tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88592156104029338172024-03-13T22:38:28.673-04:00The England family!!!Ben+Katy= Declan & Aengus (fresh baked family fun)McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.comBlogger130125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-58060277395969419052013-04-15T21:38:00.002-04:002013-04-15T21:41:28.347-04:00Boston. Here's the thing about the running community: It's 100% a tribe... And you don't even have to be a fast, elite athlete to be in it. Heck, you don't even have to lace up or train. It can be as simple as volunteering to pass out t-shirts at registration, or waking up early to hold a sign and holler "GO FAST, MAMA!" to be in it. The running tribe is made up of runners and spectators, volunteers, spouses and offspring, parents and friends, police, medics etc. Every person counts. Every person is necessary in making it happen. If you have a heart full of love and joy beating in your chest, you're in! It's true.<br />
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Which is why we are all hurting so bad. Which is why I can say for certain that the evil that did this today was no part of our tribe. We know how hard those runners trained and sacrificed to EVEN QUALIFY to participate. We know that, at mile 26, they were so close to a dream fulfilled. We know HOW LOUD and EXCITED and JOYFULLY those spectators and volunteers were cheering. And we are devastated that someone so cruel could rob countless racers of the dream of those coveted finishers medals, far too many people of their limbs, three families of precious loved ones. Someone could dare rob OUR TRIBE of those three important members.<br />
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Oh Boston.McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-40131181756411375172013-03-08T22:08:00.002-05:002013-03-08T22:20:17.520-05:00Proud. <div style="text-align: justify;">
I am a proud mama. My boys are the light of my life. They make my heart explode about a million times a day for a million different reasons. I will give a brief run-down of their personalities: Both boys are happy, smart, sweet, funny, loving and stubborn in their own ways. They are very similar in most ways but differ in a few key traits. Declan had colic and didn't sleep through the night until he was 11 months old. Aengus, on the other hand, barely made a peep and was sleeping through the night before 4 months old. Aengus is laid-back (possibly the side effect of being born second) and very cautious while Declan has no in-born sense of self-preservation and, well, he's my spicy fella. </div>
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Declan has had a rough week. It's likely due to his staunch refusal to nap (Oh, only since he was 18 months old. We tried to force it about once every 3-6 months for a while, but usually those 20 minute power naps ended in major mischief of epic proportions. Imagine what would happen if you were to leave a billy goat/raccoon/honey badger-hybrid in a toddler's room for 20 minutes) despite waking up earlier and earlier. So, yeah, some major melt-downs and hot toddler tantrum action have been reported this week. He had to go to the preschool principal's office both days. :(</div>
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He's also been in full-tilt danger-tot mode. Evel Knievel's got NOTHING on this boy. I'm guessing he's averaged a concussion a day. </div>
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He's been a hand full of dynamite this week but still... he tries so hard to be a good boy. He hugs fiercely, he smooches freely, he readily apologizes and he still makes me proud a hundred times a day for a hundred different reasons. I will say in no uncertain terms that never before have any of those reasons ever been based on his behavior in a restaurant... until tonight. </div>
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So, yes, I am bragging on my amazing, fearless kid despite all the time-outs and trouble! We decided to take the boys out to dinner at a restaurant we've never been to as a family. It was a yummy Thai restaurant. Declan sat down, spoke politely to the server, didn't wander all over the establishment or make a big scene. He didn't yell or get mad. When the food was brought, he ate EVERY bite we put on his plate. He tried everything (and we didn't play it safe, folks) and even asked for seconds. </div>
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He. Was. Awesome! </div>
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I am so proud of my little foodie and I am thrilled we were able to end a bumpy week on such a positive note! </div>
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Three cheers for Declan!</div>
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Hip! Hip! HOORAY!</div>
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McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-10620818746069307042013-03-08T21:08:00.002-05:002013-03-08T21:08:48.253-05:00Failing at Lent. You guys... It's just not going to happen. Forgive me. We had a few really great first few days of Lenten photos, but it really was too ambitious.McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-60819242987912511722013-02-17T20:57:00.000-05:002013-02-17T20:57:13.735-05:00L.P.D.C. "Settle"<div style="text-align: center;">
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The prompt today is "Settle"</div>
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The boys were restless little souls today. </div>
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It took forever for them to wind down and rest their little bones this evening. </div>
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I initially thought I would end up taking a photo of our little funny pug, Stella, nestled in Aengus' chair. She's the queen of "Settle" as she could find a nest anywhere. </div>
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That's not what happened. </div>
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This is what I found with my camera and my flash about 20 minutes after the bedtime wailing and gnashing of teeth subsided. </div>
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So. Much. Drama. </div>
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Sometimes, it's two sides of the coin. Nothing profound tonight. Sleep tight!</div>
McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-61668283656501559772013-02-16T15:46:00.001-05:002013-02-16T15:52:57.666-05:00L.P.D.C. "injustice"<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://rethinkchurch.org/article/lenten-photo-day-challenge">Lenten Photo of the Day Challenge</a></div>
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The prompt for the day is "Injustice"</div>
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Of course I should be out on the street looking for injustice , but one could turn on any news channel and see hundreds of examples of injustice in the world at large. As much as it pains me to admit, there are examples of injustice in my very own home. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S4dnqWS5ml8/UR_rk8k0XgI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/adFmWCwlNC8/s1600/IMG_4447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S4dnqWS5ml8/UR_rk8k0XgI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/adFmWCwlNC8/s640/IMG_4447.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is my beautiful first born, Declan. </div>
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He is an amazing kid!</div>
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He is full of energy and strong as an ox.</div>
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HE NEVER SITS STILL. EVER.</div>
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He is curious and incredibly kind. </div>
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He is strong-willed and stubborn. </div>
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As a mother who has struggled with Attention Deficit issues my entire life, I recognize too many of these traits that my genetic code has passed on to him. </div>
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I feel like I have failed him simply by passing these difficulties on to him. </div>
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I fear that I don't have what it takes to mother him the way he needs to be mothered. </div>
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Children with A.D.H.D. need consistent boundaries. They need gentle discipline. </div>
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I feel like all I ever do is put him in time out. </div>
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I feel like I scold too much or too harshly. </div>
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I pray daily for patience it takes to repeat myself over and over again without getting testy. I pray for the wisdom in finding the ability to strike the right balance between giving him the discipline he needs and the celebration of his unique and wonderful gifts of spirit. </div>
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I don't ever want him to feel like a bad kid, because he's not a bad kid. He's an awesome kid. </div>
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I don't want him to lose his glorious smile</div>
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But for all the prayers, I still feel completely inadequate when it comes to being his mother. </div>
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He was born first to a mom who has no idea what she's doing.</div>
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He was born on the cusp of August and September so he can either be the youngest kid in class or the oldest.</div>
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He was an only child for such a brief moment. </div>
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The world is not fair but we have to do our best to be as fair as possible. </div>
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Please pray with me that I can be the kind of mom he needs. </div>
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McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-54470560099972226212013-02-15T23:26:00.003-05:002013-02-15T23:26:57.799-05:00L.P.D.C. "See"<div style="text-align: center;">
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The prompt today was "See"</div>
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**Spoiler alert**</div>
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My family is my whole wide world so pretty much all of the pictures I post are going to be of them. If you do not enjoy pictures of the world's greatest dogs, impossibly beautiful children and a breathtakingly handsome husband/father then you better lurk someone else's blog. </div>
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This is Aengus. He's my youngest heartthrob. Here he was playing in a blackout tent and peeked out to say "Faprise!" </div>
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I see a bright light in a dark place when I look at this picture. </div>
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This is my <a href="http://themcenglands.blogspot.com/2012/06/dear-aengus.html">Aengus</a>.</div>
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McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-83304869037938421852013-02-15T00:09:00.002-05:002013-02-15T00:09:53.080-05:00L.P.D.C. "Return"http://rethinkchurch.org/article/lenten-photo-day-challenge<br />
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Today's photo prompt was "Return"<br />
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I have two photos from today and they are both of the same subject.<br />
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Both I find to be visually interesting images as well as fitting. </div>
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Is there any coincidence that "Dog" is "GOD" spelled backwards?</div>
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What if we remembered that a dog's faithful love is the way God loves us broken down into small enough pieces for our feeble human minds to understand? </div>
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Faithful.</div>
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Devoted.</div>
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Forgiving.</div>
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Unconditional. </div>
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(even when we skip a walk or are too slow filling up the water)</div>
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So incredibly happy to see us return. </div>
<br />McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-86478568422325992762013-02-13T23:42:00.002-05:002013-02-13T23:43:04.962-05:00L.P.D.C. "Who am I?"<a href="http://rethinkchurch.org/article/lenten-photo-day-challenge">http://rethinkchurch.org/article/lenten-photo-day-challenge</a><br />
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My dear friend, Erica, encouraged me on facebook to participate in a photo-of-the-day Lenten challenge. I decided to go for it. The link above will explain. So I thought I'd post them here with just a few words. If this is too introspective, please forgive me. I try not to do too much navel-gazing or philosophize too much here but Lent is a time of renewal... so I'm doing it.<br />
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The first day's prompt is "Who am I?"<br />
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"Who am I?"</div>
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I was known in my family/circle/pool-that-i-lifeguarded-at for always having my toes done. It's my thing. The pedi has always got to be fresh. I've had a foot obsession all of my life (as my parents will attest). Currently my toes are painted in a sandy textured purple glitter polish. No one in my current/recent life knows this about me unless they've seen me in sandals.</div>
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Maybe it's because I'm a mom or maybe it's because I'm a wife. Maybe it's because I no longer work for a paycheck. Maybe it's because I am recovering from a bout with the flu and household stress has been weighing pretty heavy on me... or maybe it's because I've washed and folded and put away what feels like a dozen loads of laundry over the past 2 days... but some days I feel like I've lost myself. Like "Katy: The individual" is taking a backseat to a mountain of laundry. </div>
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I initially took a photo of two little backpacks. </div>
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I had just filled them. "Who am I? I'm a mom, I guess. " I thought.</div>
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Up to the point where I picked up my camera to take this shot last minute, I had just spent every second of today being "Mama". I took one potty, carried the other downstairs, made little breakfasts, changed a diaper, put little shirts and pants and socks on little bodies, smooched little faces, wiped little noses, folded and hung up more little clothes than you could shake a stick at,broke up a fight then it was time to make lunch...I could go on but I won't because I think you probably get the idea. I didn't have time to drink water. I was non-stop moving.</div>
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"So maybe I should take a picture of the backpacks I just filled" I thought.</div>
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And then I looked down...</div>
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I saw my purple glitter toes looking up at me from the kitchen floor I've walked across hundreds of times today alone... Kissing "bonked noggs", giving lots of hugs, making little tiny peace treaties with my little tiny humans that God blessed me with. </div>
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This is my life.</div>
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But there they were. </div>
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Staring back at me. The last vestige of my individual self.</div>
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In the picture they look far away and distant... You can't tell that they have glitter. You can't really even distinguish if they're even purple at all. </div>
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That's Ok. </div>
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I've always loved "making the ouchies go away" and cooking nourishing food for people that I love and hugging little tiny humans... The nature to nuture has always been a part of me, this wife-mama aspect. But Wife-Mama took a backseat while Purple Sparkly Toes did her thing. Now it's Purple Sparkly Toes turn to sit back. This is not her time to shine. </div>
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This is Wife-Mama's season. (Purple Sparkly Toes is still there, though.)</div>
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McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-55442615167297227432012-12-16T16:38:00.000-05:002012-12-16T16:55:03.412-05:00Romans 12:15<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep. </i></div>
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There is not a single parent or teacher in this country unable to feel the same aching pit of grief deep in the gut that I've had since hearing the news on Friday. Most of us have no connection to anyone in Newtown, Ct but it doesn't matter. Those twenty little faces may have just as well been in our scout troop or on our swim team or running past us in the church hall. Those teachers are the same teachers we bravely (but confidently) trust our most precious treasures to at the beginning of every school year (and rightfully so. They EACH gave their life attempting to protect their little students).</div>
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This feels local.</div>
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And it should. </div>
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It should feel personal. </div>
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Because it could happen anywhere. Be it in an Amish school house or at the local elementary school two blocks away. </div>
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Right now 26 families are planning funerals.</div>
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20 families are trying to decide what to do with the Christmas gifts that their 6 and 7 year olds will never open. </div>
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With the beds that didn't get made friday morning.</div>
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With a laundry basket full of size 6x play clothes. </div>
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How to remind the baby of the big brother she'll barely remember in 3 years time but won't stop asking for now. </div>
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Some people have said that it's because we kicked God out of schools. As if God would EVER abandon these little ones. As if GOD caused or willed this evil act to happen. </div>
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Not MY God.</div>
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My God is a loving God. </div>
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He instilled the bravery in these courageous teachers. He erased the fear these children surely must have felt. He HOLDS THESE FAMILIES CLOSE.<br />
He lost a Son as well. </div>
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It's personal for God too. </div>
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Please join me in continuing to pray for our teachers, our students, our schools, our Country and our law makers. Please pray that Mental Health Care becomes more easily accessible than the weapon used to ruin 26 families. Please pray for safety in our schools.<br />
Please pray for these forever changed families that they find peace.<br />
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McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-27504197098376310172012-09-06T13:14:00.000-04:002012-09-06T13:14:13.564-04:00This boy...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-acUJL4rlO1A/UEjVRRaKXVI/AAAAAAAAA9w/PuiATMwkDmo/s1600/IMG_1159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-acUJL4rlO1A/UEjVRRaKXVI/AAAAAAAAA9w/PuiATMwkDmo/s640/IMG_1159.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Turned 3 last week.</div>
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My sweet, beautiful Declan has grown up so much this last year. He LOVES rocket ships, bubbles, books, firetrucks and "playing guys"(This is like playing cars or trucks but with good guys/bad guys action figures but in Declan world they all are friends and practice manners ... "Oh NO, Pider man, are You ok?" "Yeah, Gween Gwobin, I OK!") and he LOVES being a big brother. He listens and minds his mama 95% of the time and he's such a loving guy! He is quick with a laugh and a universe-brightening smile!</div>
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Benjamin Declan England, you are such a brilliant ball of joy! You make me so incredibly proud to be your mama EVERY SINGLE DAY! I hope you never lose your exuberant belly laugh, your intense curiosity and that beautifully kind heart (just like your daddy!). You make up for a hundred bad guys, Declan England, and the world is so much better as long as your little feet are walking on it!</div>
McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-73715152873561660522012-07-09T15:01:00.000-04:002012-07-09T15:01:00.926-04:00Hot, Cranky and Annoyed.<div style="text-align: justify;">
It has been hot here. I mean really hot. We just moved into our new house and within days, the AC went out and then temperatures soared into the high 90's and low 100's. What. The. CRAP! </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELinKFL1Eoc/T_sfmjKTJxI/AAAAAAAAA7w/wci_VeVly0A/s1600/IMG_0803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELinKFL1Eoc/T_sfmjKTJxI/AAAAAAAAA7w/wci_VeVly0A/s640/IMG_0803.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />Holy Redheaded-baby- in-the-Shade, Batman. </td></tr>
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We tried hard to find ways to keep the boys entertained AND ALSO beat the heat. Our biggest wins were the water table...</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1k3PPSY4Kvo/T_sf3xUKsLI/AAAAAAAAA8A/D1A833yNIRw/s1600/IMG_0872.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1k3PPSY4Kvo/T_sf3xUKsLI/AAAAAAAAA8A/D1A833yNIRw/s640/IMG_0872.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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and the sprinkler...</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qinTZ3t3hs8/T_sfwvs8yiI/AAAAAAAAA74/TbWcu_QhnGs/s1600/IMG_0861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qinTZ3t3hs8/T_sfwvs8yiI/AAAAAAAAA74/TbWcu_QhnGs/s640/IMG_0861.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I should also mention that the boys have recently decided to take their brotherly-loving relationship to the next level...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RYjfbamLINs/T_sf_ME9FVI/AAAAAAAAA8I/jc7XcYcHtJY/s1600/IMG_0950+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RYjfbamLINs/T_sf_ME9FVI/AAAAAAAAA8I/jc7XcYcHtJY/s640/IMG_0950+-+Version+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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With noogies...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5jC2GlyecfM/T_sgVZZE__I/AAAAAAAAA8g/wi-keMMruic/s1600/IMG_0967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5jC2GlyecfM/T_sgVZZE__I/AAAAAAAAA8g/wi-keMMruic/s640/IMG_0967.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Choke holds, wailing...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gr1zBv1Sdh0/T_sgN7hEQfI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/sptUHnIW8mY/s1600/IMG_0957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gr1zBv1Sdh0/T_sgN7hEQfI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/sptUHnIW8mY/s640/IMG_0957.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Eye pokes...</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JQ6uAgHkwTw/T_sgGncBGKI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/BGRsyRpA59o/s1600/IMG_0953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JQ6uAgHkwTw/T_sgGncBGKI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/BGRsyRpA59o/s640/IMG_0953.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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and whining to try and deflect the trouble and make one's self look totally innocent. </div>
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Good times. </div>
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It's completely not given me a headache in the least bit... </div>
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Oh wait, No, it has.</div>
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And if one more person tells me that I have my "Hands full" I may actually cry. </div>
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(I hear that phrase at least 5 times an hour if I have both the boys together )</div>
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I don't think people realize how insulting it is when they say that to a mother brave enough to take her two wild, but very loved and treasured babies out to target (or the grocery store or to just run errands because how else are these things going to get done???). </div>
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I really feel good about myself and capable (and maybe even a little bit like I can actually handle it) when I've got Aengus on my hip and Declan by the hand... </div>
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but then some well-meaning member of the peanut gallery shatters that with a thoughtless figure of speech and I am crushed.</div>
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All I can think is "What a mess I must look like..."</div>
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It's never from people who know what it's like to have babies back to back (or even multiples). </div>
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Those people are the ones that end up making my day with their comments of </div>
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"It will get better, Dear."</div>
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and</div>
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"Do your best to enjoy it because it goes by much too fast"</div>
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or</div>
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"You are doing SUCH a great job." </div>
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In order to avoid ending this blog on a grumpy note, I'm going to post pictures from Father's day weekend of some of my favorite, heart-exploding images of AWESOMENESS...</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PkCOEnfTBBs/T_snv8pp2PI/AAAAAAAAA80/V3f5CWGnwDM/s1600/IMG_0598.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PkCOEnfTBBs/T_snv8pp2PI/AAAAAAAAA80/V3f5CWGnwDM/s640/IMG_0598.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Baby Cousin Automotive repair...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"I'm just gonna poke this dot right here, Britton, let's see if that does the trick..."<br />"That's smart thinking, Aengus. It'll probably work..."</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Success!!!"</td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EAvkTX-gfYk/T_soFpqQ5fI/AAAAAAAAA9M/Vqk9tITN8ns/s1600/IMG_0705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EAvkTX-gfYk/T_soFpqQ5fI/AAAAAAAAA9M/Vqk9tITN8ns/s640/IMG_0705.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Awesome, slightly older boy cousins who know how to have a great time on a leaf-covered trampoline</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5rdya87E7DU/T_soNLE7_YI/AAAAAAAAA9U/TxwMp_TjHLE/s1600/IMG_0710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5rdya87E7DU/T_soNLE7_YI/AAAAAAAAA9U/TxwMp_TjHLE/s640/IMG_0710.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery...</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dl2zDEO9_aI/T_sn97-tA4I/AAAAAAAAA9E/JoDUjvzWjaA/s1600/IMG_0617+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dl2zDEO9_aI/T_sn97-tA4I/AAAAAAAAA9E/JoDUjvzWjaA/s640/IMG_0617+-+Version+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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My whole wide world on a picnic table bench...</div>
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Happy July!</div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-30372011563648310892012-06-01T12:41:00.002-04:002012-06-01T23:28:16.027-04:00Dear Aengus...<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dear Sweet Aengus,</div>
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June 1st was your due date. Can you imagine how incredibly large you would have been had you baked another 3 weeks? Holy smokes. I'm still stunned. I know I should have written this post to/for/about you when you turned one on May 11th. Please know that I was really just waiting on the family party so that I could post pictures of you with your big boy cupcake. It had nothing to do with putting in an offer on a house on your actual birthday. I swear. It also had nothing to do with procrastinating due to the fact that I just can't bear to wrap my mind around how it's already been over an entire year since you looked like this:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JabuXn61rbM/T8jo4IVZCvI/AAAAAAAAA50/FMIApISZ-WY/s1600/240320_10100217072841175_9433304_49867627_2169408_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JabuXn61rbM/T8jo4IVZCvI/AAAAAAAAA50/FMIApISZ-WY/s640/240320_10100217072841175_9433304_49867627_2169408_o.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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I can't swear to that one, though. </div>
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I really cannot believe it's only been a year since you were born. Reflecting on the experience of when you and I shared a body and then when you were born, what sticks out in my mind the most about that time is how palpable the feeling of falling in love with you was. And how immediate. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eUt6kwb1kQM/T8jo5C3uGUI/AAAAAAAAA58/mJUqJF0aS5w/s1600/240320_10100217072846165_9433304_49867628_6366672_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eUt6kwb1kQM/T8jo5C3uGUI/AAAAAAAAA58/mJUqJF0aS5w/s640/240320_10100217072846165_9433304_49867628_6366672_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Maybe it's because you had been through so much with me already by the time you were born. You were the promise of light during a very dark time in my life. I was so miserable and depressed in Lynchburg but then there was you. The promise of you reached a place inside of me that even your darling brother and your amazing father couldn't touch. You were on your way through the entire time and the hope of meeting you was what pulled me through.</div>
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And then, suddenly, there you were, Precious Boy, and I couldn't smell your perfect scent or let any part of my body graze your perfect skin without instantly falling asleep in a dizzying, oxytocin-induced haze. You made it all better, Aengus. You lifted my depression and made my whole world bright again.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cSLJILUBkMM/T8jo2QV4gFI/AAAAAAAAA5s/Wua5hhNW3Ig/s1600/218900_10100218741217735_9433304_49898389_6646569_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cSLJILUBkMM/T8jo2QV4gFI/AAAAAAAAA5s/Wua5hhNW3Ig/s640/218900_10100218741217735_9433304_49898389_6646569_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And all it took was your smile. </div>
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I cannot believe how seamlessly you fit into our family. How lucky we are that we got yet another happy baby (Two in a row?!? WOW!!!) and how much you've changed in just a year's time. You've gone from a roly-poly punkin' head...<br />
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To a lanky, leggy wild boy in the blink of an eye. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t-fHtN16n7g/T8jpmBCt6kI/AAAAAAAAA68/aCX_G6uvUpg/s1600/IMG_9408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t-fHtN16n7g/T8jpmBCt6kI/AAAAAAAAA68/aCX_G6uvUpg/s640/IMG_9408.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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All the while, doling out the sunshine wherever you go.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgHinN9y_cw/T8jp1GpPwYI/AAAAAAAAA7M/VRJK3pxwBbE/s1600/IMG_8794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgHinN9y_cw/T8jp1GpPwYI/AAAAAAAAA7M/VRJK3pxwBbE/s640/IMG_8794.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Aengus, I am so incredibly proud of how you talk and play and climb. How you roll with the punches...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vAZYnQyWqks/T8jvU6VhxjI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/JhCrfeNdHAA/s1600/IMG_0476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vAZYnQyWqks/T8jvU6VhxjI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/JhCrfeNdHAA/s640/IMG_0476.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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But take every bit of it in stride...</div>
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You do everything your own way and in your own time...</div>
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And your smile brightens our world, beautiful boy!</div>
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Thank you for giving me a year that was so amazing that I wish I could rewind and live it all over again. </div>
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Happy First Birthday, Aengus!</div>
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May you have a hundred more!</div>
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<br />McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-30420423424929465692012-04-14T22:38:00.003-04:002012-04-14T22:43:59.543-04:00A.D.H.D. melt-down.<div style="text-align: center;">
The past 2 and a half weeks have looked like this:</div>
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My Mama (Or "Gramma" as she's known around these parts) had a non-life-threatening medical emergency that required emergency surgery and a brief medical suspension of driving privileges.</div>
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My Daddy (A.K.A. "Grandaddy") then followed that up with a non-life-threatening medical emergency and a brief medical suspension of driving privileges of his own.</div>
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Got my hair did. And dyed some of it pink. It's cute and I don't have a boss to dictate inappropriate so party on, Wayne. </div>
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Easter (Holy Salvation, Batman...And too much candy.)</div>
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A plane ride to Buffalo by myself. Oh wait... Did I just say "By Myself"? I had both children with me. (Ben stayed home because he had to work)<br />
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Neither child has hit the ripe old age of 3 yet.<br />
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Full flights. Most definitely not alone. </div>
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Seven nights of sharing a bedroom with both of my sons.<br />
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And of not playing footsie with my sweet husband. </div>
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Return flight back to Tennessee with both boys in tow.<br />
(I threatened to leave the big one a time or two) </div>
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567 images uploaded from camera onto computer.</div>
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CRAAAAP! </div>
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Now I have to delete and edit.</div>
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**Overwhelmed and shuts down**</div>
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In case you've ever wondered...</div>
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Here's what I look like. </div>
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I think it's very telling that I'm out of focus in this photo.<br />
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Have a nice day. </div>
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<br /></div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-51155084089938119282012-04-01T00:14:00.003-04:002012-04-01T00:23:24.673-04:00The illusion of perfect mothering...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyWrdFkL8EbQlzdzFsaAX32grgK2qZSHRDvwsACffXXfn2tE5YTCZIb_03XtEysK73cDk8V_3vINlr1o6Suww' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
Someone called me "such a good mother" today.... I KNOW, Right? Obviously, she missed the blog about Aengus rolling off the changing table. I looked behind me to see if there was another, more put-together woman with a well-behaved child standing behind me in line because MY SON (the one in the dirty t-shirt and the animal-cracker-crumb fu manchu ) had just butt-shoved the lady in front of us in line. He then proceeded to roll around on the floor of T.J. Maxx(which he calls "Mama Mac!"because... gosh, I dunno. Maybe he thinks she'd like it.) in an attempt to lather up his total rage and frustration at HAVING LIFE SO INCREDIBLY EASY into a full-tilt, multi-octave tantrum. She could not have possibly meant me. But she did.<br />
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I apologized to her friend and then I stopped the tantrum by encouraging him to sing a theme song to a TV show (one of many) he watches ALL THE TIME. It worked... and then he got a book as a treat.<br />
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And then I had to muscle him back into his carseat while he bucked and hollered. <br />
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And I potty trained him using candy and toys and bribery.<br />
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And sometimes we eat lunch in front of the t.v.<br />
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Also, my son knows a lyric to "I'm sexy and I know it..." (blame his uncles and his father for that one).<br />
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My point is this... I'm not perfect. I'm ridiculous. I'm not even that great of a mother. I'm doing the best I can. Sometimes I cuss. Frequently, I loose my patience with the boys and yell about 100% more than I need to out of sheer frustration. I'm trying every day to improve but the truth is that I was a waaaaay better parent before I had actual human children.<br />
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I want to be a great mom.<br />
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A mom with well-behaved children.<br />
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A mom who doesn't raise her voice.<br />
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A mom that has it all together.<br />
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I I know my blog is typically happy and my pictures are bright and vivid but I've got a very long way to go. Don't believe me? Look closer...<br />
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This baby is FILTHY! </div>
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(and happy. Good enough. )</div>
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<br />McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-85556837326041750452012-03-27T21:09:00.000-04:002012-03-27T21:11:17.386-04:00Aunt Susan."You don't <i>have</i> a soul. You <i>are</i> a soul. You <i>have </i>a body."~C.S. Lewis.<br />
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Our Aunt Susan* is dying. Our sweet, beautiful, humble, generous, amazing, epitome-of-a-servant's-heart Aunt Susan is dying. While this is not unexpected as her body has been fighting a very long and very hard battle for years, it is a most devastating loss. Not devastating because her great suffering is almost over but for the simple reason that Sweet Susan's battle is so incredibly, heartbreakingly unfair.<br />
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Susan has devoted her ENTIRE life to her family. She birthed and raised four of the finest, most brilliantly kind, compassionate and loving human beings to ever walk on this planet. Her marriage to her equally wonderful and equally devoted husband, Don, has been a shining example of what a loving marriage looks like. She never misses an opportunity to tell the ones she loves how much she loves them and still... she has suffered so much more than any one person should ever have to.<br />
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I hate cancer. HATE. I hate that it can strike someone barely months old. How it can force a mother to watch helplessly as the sweet, happy baby she grew in her very own womb can be snatched from her loving arms and robbed of a future. How it took away the opportunity to dance with my grandaddy at my wedding. How it can grow silently for years and then,by the time it is discovered, it is often too late. How it can take away someone who puts so much more than her fair share of goodness into this world and someone who is so incredibly loved. Someone that radiates such amazing, unadulterated joy into this universe. <br />
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It. Isn't. Fair.<br />
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Here's what I know, though. I KNOW there is a loving God. A God who watched His Son suffer miserably and unfairly and watched, helplessly as His VERY OWN SON died. A God who understands the pain our family is reeling from much better than anyone could ever begin to express. A God that has a perfect plan. A God that will welcome His humble servant, Susan, into His kingdom with open arms. It's just her body that is dying. Her soul will never, ever, ever die. We WILL see her again.<br />
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Thank You, God, for giving us Susan.<br />
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*<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I should point out here that I'm calling my mother-in-law's sister, OUR aunt even though she's only technically been MY aunt for about 4 years. Still. She told me every chance she could how much she loved me. And guess what? I LOVE HER. Seriously. Like she's actually my honest-to-God-blood-related-AUNT. Its probably exactly how anyone who has ever met that woman feels about her, though.</span>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-53395107079913251462012-03-26T01:25:00.003-04:002012-03-26T01:25:33.439-04:00Monkey Business<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week has been a hum...</div>
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DINGER!</div>
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Allow me to begin with the ER trip on Monday. Ye Olde 10 month old took a tumble and "bonked uh nog!" as the toddler fella would say and had some brief neuro changes. It was all my fault (*beats breast, shouts "Mea CULPA!") . I normally keep one hand on him at all times when he's on the changing table but was trying to shove a particularly bulky diaper into the pail and took my hand off for a brief second when he crashed. Oh, the guilt! Long and expensive story made short, no skull fracture, no bleeds. To quote the ER Doc, "He just got his bell rung pretty good". Ugh. I want to throw up just thinking about it. </div>
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Now, fast forward to Friday night... I am most exhausted from the wild week(where everybody under 3 cried in unison for no discernible reason ALL WEEK LONG) but Ben and I swear to each other that come hell or high water, we WILL do our p90x workout. We feed, bathe and put the wild boys to bed. Aengus wakes up and I nurse him a little longer while Ben runs downstairs to set up the dvd. I put Aengus to bed and then run downstairs to workout. Ben stops </div>
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me at the foot of the stairs and says "Katy, we've got a BIG problem." and all I can think of was "Oh CRAP! Did Declan throw a weight through the tv again?!?" </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shame on Mama. He wouldn't dare!</td></tr>
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... And then I smelled it. </div>
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Apparently there was a blockage somewhere in the plumbing and raw sewage backed up into the downstairs bathroom... and bedroom... and into the drywall. You see where this is going? It's bad. Thankfully, we are renting so our landlords are handling it. Sadly, we are friends with our landlords so we feel extra terrible that this happened while we were living here. It ruined an old mattress of ours but that mattress needed replacing anyway. This house is having to have carpet, baseboards, drywall and a vanity removed. </div>
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This whole mess has made Ben extra nervous about buying a house sometime in the not so distant future. He's rented his entire adult life except the first 2 years of our marriage when we paid a mortgage on the house I bought before I met him. I HATE renting, though. It makes me all hive-y and itchy. All I can hear is my dad's voice saying "You're throwing money down the drain when you rent!" every time I write the rent check. I miss being a homeowner and feeling invested in where I live. I miss having a garden and planting perennials (which get bigger and better every year!). I miss diy home improvement and painting a back bedroom just the right shade of green to make someone I love feel content and welcome when they're in it. But mostly, it's the garden. </div>
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I am my father's daughter and it is NEVER more apparent than during Lent when I peruse greenhouses and seed catalogs daydreaming of summer's vivid bounty. I scoop up seedlings and packets of zinnias and get all fired up about Good Friday (That's the day you're supposed to put out your garden, don't you know!). I stick my nose in a potted rose bush and wonder about whether or not the blooms were fragrant enough to waft into the house if I planted her beneath an open window. </div>
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Last year we lived in a town home with no outdoor greenspace so in terms of Spring planting, it was a bust. This year we have a deck and a big yard and I'm getting the boys in on the action...</div>
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I think it's a winner. </div>
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<br /></div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-91918200426833315962012-03-14T20:36:00.000-04:002012-03-15T00:00:20.259-04:00Recent Thoughts on Motherhood in 3 Parts.<div style="text-align: center;">
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I.</div>
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We "potty trained" Declan this past weekend. At the very least we ditched the disposable baby diapers in exchange for the more comfortable cotton potty training pants. We also transitioned Aengus into cloth diapers. It was a LOOOOOOONG three day test of wills, patience and being housebound. By the end of the weekend, Declan was running and sitting on the potty every time he needed to go. Our only real issue has been the whole "Pull down your big boy pants BEFORE you sit on the potty". He really seems to get it, though, and it makes me incredibly proud to be his mama. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Declan in "big boy" underpants, pajama top and prop hat from the preschool program</td></tr>
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In addition, there was the "daylight savings time" time change. Had I remembered that this past weekend was the weekend to move clocks up, I would have postponed the potty training another few weeks. I didn't remember and Ben and I both ultimately paid for my oversight. </div>
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For adults, the time change means late for church or spending the next week a little on the sleepy side until your body readjusts. For children(at least for mine) it apparently means going to bed an hour or more later and waking up two hours earlier... and also waking up repeatedly throughout the night with a loud and long caveman yell ensuring that your brother ALSO wakes up wailing like a banshee. So, instead of only getting one less hour of sleep, the children are getting 3+ less hours of quality snooze time ensuring that Mom and Dad get EVEN LESS sleep than their typical 6-8. Good times. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aengus practicing fine motor skills with finger foods</td></tr>
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My children also subscribe to the whole "Let's learn a new trick and while we're at it, let's sleep super crappy and wake up our folks and each other about a million times a night... I mean, we can always take a few naps as long as we don't take them at the same time, right?". If Ben and I were looking for a world of hurt, well, we found it. Potty training bootcamp + time change + thunderstorm = THE PERFECT STORM. (Did I mention that Georgia, our boxer, is our very own in-house meteorologist and she likes to tell us that it's about to rain by whining and fretting in my ear at 2 am? It's kind of like having a really unpredictable rooster with dog breathe. I didn't mention that? So sorry!). I'm pretty sure you can surmise that Ben and I probably slept a grand total of 45 minutes on Monday night. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, the rest of his class were not <i>supposed </i>to be his back-up singers. Declan had other ideas. This is from the Preschool Spring Program. </td></tr>
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The ONLY thing that I could do was pray for mercy. The reply I heard loud and clear was,"Katy, there are families all over the world, country, state and city that would give everything they could to have the opportunity to settle their beloved child down just one more time. This is a blessing. I know you are exhausted but you need to take a deep breath and enjoy rocking those boys back to sleep." It's amazing how much patience gets scrounged up when God whispers THAT little message into your heart. Regardless, I really, REALLY needed some alone time. Sometimes blessings can really wear a mama out!</div>
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II.</div>
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Speaking of blessings, it's no secret how blessed I feel to have found nursing(the career path, not the baby feeding... although, I love that too!) so early on in my life. When I was 22, I would have given ANYTHING to have found the right person in college, get married shortly after graduation and have lots of babies. I knew very early on that there was a longing in my heart that only a loving,devoted marriage and a house full of children could soothe. God's master plan for my life was a much less direct route ("the scenic route", you could call it!) and I am so incredibly grateful that He had a much better idea and didn't give me what I wanted exactly when I wanted it.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scenic route is ALWAYS better.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The cornerstone to His amazing plan for my life (from my current perspective) was/is my nursing career(I met my husband on the job, y'all! Don't tell me that life is random, God PLANNED that little introduction). I learned so much because of nursing. I learned to hear little, tiny whispers of a heart murmur and to trust that little, tiny whispered voice in my heart that said,"Something here is worse than anyone knows... stay close to this little one. She's going to need you to be on your toes, today". I learned to tell the "I'm hungry" cries from the "I'm wet" cries and most importantly, how to swaddle tight and hold heart-to-heart in case of the "I just wish I was back inside my mama!" cries that keep those frazzled first-time parents up all night. I could go on and on about what I learned because of being a nurse but the honest-to-goodness most important thing I learned was that in order to give the very best care of your patients, you have to LOVE your patients desperately like they belong to you. Like you are caring for YOUR baby/little sister/grandmother etc. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was through that little pearl of nursing wisdom that I met our newest babysitter. I was frequently her nurse for YEARS back at Children's before she "aged out". She has always been one of those precious patients that you just can't help but love to pieces. A really good kid. Last week I ran into her here in Johnson City. Turns out, she lives within walking distance from our house and she LOVES to babysit. Also, turns out she's GREAT! She watched the boys yesterday and Declan loved her so much that he smooched her square on the mouth and yelled "BYE, S, BYE!!!" for 20 minutes after she left. She cared for those wild boys so lovingly, just like I did for her years ago. The moral of this story is that one should <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">take every opportunity to love on another mother's baby because you never know if that love will grow up, turn around and love on your baby in return</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">Being good to people is never ever a mistake. Neither is loving someone. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">III. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">S came over yesterday and watched the boys while I took myself on a little date. I went into an overcrowded(with merchandise, not actual people) over-priced boutique that I would have NEVER pushed a double stroller into. There I was hounded mercilessly by an over-eager saleslady. No, I will NOT buy cobalt blue capri jeans and just pretend they're petite, full-length jeans. That never ever works, y'all, because I can't adjust the placement of my knees. I'm short, not a side-show. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I left and then travelled further down the road to a newly-opened nail salon. This place was staffed/owned/managed by an immigrant family* (see foot note). The father and the uncles were there, engrossed in their iPhones when I walked in. A small, twinkly-eyed little girl of about 3 flittered around the store and spoke the family's native tongue. A 6 year old boy with a buzz cut ran in and out of the shop. I requested a pedicure and was seated immediately. My feet were plunged into a hot, soapy tub to soak and I immediately escaped into a magazine. I felt more relaxed than I had all week. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Then it happened. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">The Mama walked in. She'd been out running an errand, I suppose. Her thick, glossy black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was easily 7-8 months pregnant and looked as adorable as could be in her breezy maternity tunic, leggings and sparkly flip flops. Radiant, I'd say. At that moment, her little 3 year old daughter pranced right up to her and began chattering in the mother tongue. The Mama reached out her hand and beamed down at her little one with pride as she replied back to her daughter. They walked hand in hand, chirping happily back and forth as they made their way to the back of the shop... I didn't understand the words but the message was clear as a bell. And as I watched, I felt my heart smile a little bit and then I felt something else.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"> I missed them.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"> Those busybody boys of mine that, quite literally NEVER let me rest. They finished my nails and I paid and tipped and walked next door to a children's shop. As I walked back to the wall of stride-rites, my attention fell to a pair of "early walker" soft, rubber soled shoe in Aengus' size. And it struck me... Aengus will be walking in a few months (if I'm lucky) or weeks (if I'm NOT lucky)! How could it be that the best parts are flying by so incredibly fast? Tears welled up in my eyes and I slipped my shades back on and went home to my babies.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Part of me misses working. It was so much easier when I could compartmentalize my life. I got a reprieve from motherhood, if only for a moment. I could focus on one thing at a time and do a job that I was proud of. I could get immediate feed-back on whether I was doing a good job or not. When I was done for the day, I could go pick up my happy baby and head home to snuggle until it was time to go to bed, wake up to do it all over again. It was exhausting. But this part of my life is harder. I don't get a break. I'm on the clock 24 hours a day and I wonder constantly if I'm doing right by them. I give Declan the same direction over and over and over again ("Declan, please, get down off the chair. Chairs are for bottoms, not for feet") and still, he climbs until I say it again. I am often out of breath and near tears by the time Ben gets home from work. Believe me when I say that stay-at-home mothering is by far the hardest job I've ever had. Sometimes, I am resentful. But maybe it's just because I'm tired. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I am all-too-aware that these beautiful boys will only be little for such a short time... and it is breaking my heart. I know how blessed we are that I can stay home with these funny little souls and I am so grateful. Now, when either of them does something amazing, I can pull out a camera and take a picture instead of hearing about it after 4pm when I pick them up at daycare. Now, when it's beautiful outside, we pull the table on the deck and eat our lunch... then we play until we're so filthy and exhausted that all we can do is eat our dinner and get a bath. I get to be there for this amazing, beautiful, wonderful time and I really do love it. I certainly don't want to get to the end of this chapter of my life and feel like I missed even a typo. Now, I'm certain that I won't. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px;">*I love these immigrant family-owned nail salons. They work hard and their little funny kids help you pick out glittery polish. They understand if you hold your baby in your lap while you get your toes done and will often volunteer to give your baby a cuddle because they, too, know the secret about loving someone else's baby. Also, the stories are amazing... "We left Vietnam two years ago. I wanted my children to have a better education than me. I've been taking English at the night school and my daughter just got a nursing scholarship! She wants to help people!". Also, I only go to shops where I see them clean the foot soak tubs so, no, I'm not afraid of toe fungus.*</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-2593780750074635082012-03-07T15:28:00.002-05:002012-03-07T15:28:42.791-05:00I Heart Faces: Beautiful Black and White<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is my boy. </div>
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I think he's beautiful all the time.</div>
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Not just in black and white. </div>
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<a href="http://www.Iheartfaces.com/">More beautiful B & W at Iheartfaces</a></div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-66917722286176938642012-03-01T23:54:00.001-05:002012-03-01T23:54:35.541-05:00What a day!Today was amazing. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! The entire day! Seriously. Warm and sunny and no longer a "winter" month (as it is now currently March)! Plus, the boys and I drove to Gatlinburg to meet up with our dear friends, <a href="http://thefawvers.blogspot.com/">the Fawvers</a> (minus Travis) in order to spend some quality time with the creatures at Ripley's Aquarium (yes, I took pictures). In addition, we didn't hit the double bottleneck of traffic because we drove through Newport and Cosby to get there! Woot, WOOT, Y'all! I'm telling you.<br />
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The drive was so incredibly beautiful. There is something so special about Tennessee and as we made our way through the mountains today I could practically touch it. I felt an overwhelming sense of belonging mixed with nostalgia and a heavy undercurrent of joy. Meredith (of Fawver family fame and also one of my very best friends) asked me over dinner if I was happy in Johnson City and, incredibly(and it's incredible because I was so unhappy in VA despite all the wonderful people there), I AM.<br />
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I am in such a great spot in my life. I have a loving, devoted marriage to my soul-mate. I have two sweet, healthy, hilarious little boys that make my ever lovin' heart explode. I am two hours or less from practically all of our family and lifelong friends. Also, need I remind you that the groundhog was wrong this year and Spring arrived early? I can't think of a single thing I want right now except a smaller jean size (and I'm workin' on it, yo!)<br />
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I promised you pictures so I'll just get on it with it so y'all don't have to keep pretending that you're here for the words.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Declan points out the fish</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridgette would actually <i>face</i> the camera when I took her picture. GENIUS!</td></tr>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Bridgette and Declan are 6 weeks apart and have been sweet friends ever since...</span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">They really do play very well together...</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />He wasn't the center of attention but he sure was a good boy at the Aquarium!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meredith and Mason. Mason was such a good boy too! He's about 3 months younger than Aengus but outweighs him by a good pound and a half! </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Aengus with his eyes on the big kids! It won't be long, buddy!</span></div>
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<br />McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-90063051342249790252012-02-27T18:36:00.000-05:002012-02-27T18:40:08.098-05:00February and a misinformed groundhog...I don't know what February's weather has been like where you are but here in East Tennessee it has either been rainy and gray or bright, sunny and unseasonably warm. On the wet days I morph into a sad and mopey girl because pretty much all of my pants need to be hemmed and too long pants+ rainy weather equals wicking and wet feet/ankles. Yuck. I also don't take any pictures on rainy days.<br />
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Last week, though, we had TONS of sunny weather. Tuesday morning started off on a little bit of a gloomy foot but by the time Declan got out of preschool it was gorgeous! We rushed home and had a little lunch then loaded back up and looked for a park to play in that wasn't crowded with big kids. I got tons of great pics.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br />Look at those lashes!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Getting pics of this kid is getting harder and harder! </i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Fun fact about Aengus: Loves to swing!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Climbing champion...</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The only pic I've ever taken where he looks like his Mama. </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A slide! </i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ears all a'glow!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Another backside shot!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BrXXE2Ud_oA/T0wIXi1NXkI/AAAAAAAAAps/knwISuBX-n0/s1600/IMG_8818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BrXXE2Ud_oA/T0wIXi1NXkI/AAAAAAAAAps/knwISuBX-n0/s640/IMG_8818.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Heck yeah, we're here to rock!"</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-81BVic24wg0/T0wIys-fiyI/AAAAAAAAAqU/vS37kYQt8j8/s1600/IMG_8898.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-81BVic24wg0/T0wIys-fiyI/AAAAAAAAAqU/vS37kYQt8j8/s640/IMG_8898.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>He looks like a wrangler model here. YeeHaw!</i></td></tr>
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On Wednesday, we were in Knoxville for a minor surgery that Aengus needed. It was also rainy and cold. Boo! Hiss! BOO HISS!<br />
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On Thursday, back in Johnson City, it was another gorgeous day. So gorgeous that we ate our lunch outside...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Please note the tooth placement up-top. Team Edward, I'm afraid. </i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We played our little hearts out...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> got incredibly filthy, went inside for a quick bath...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Put on dry clothes and spent the rest of the afternoon napping, basking in the warm weather on the back deck while wearing sporty pipe cleaner spectacles...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And painting rocks...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And hoping that the fat rodent meteorologist was wrong because ...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Escaping the house never felt soooooooo good!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Have a great week!</span></div>
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<br />McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-31582860563506485572012-02-02T23:38:00.001-05:002012-02-03T09:19:48.612-05:00Of puny babies and jealous big brothers...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KKBAWNDn8R0/TyYSMp1JGvI/AAAAAAAAAm4/j2tI0Ao48IE/s1600/IMG_8161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KKBAWNDn8R0/TyYSMp1JGvI/AAAAAAAAAm4/j2tI0Ao48IE/s640/IMG_8161.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(This is not a "Sick Aengus" pic. A pic of that would get this blog shut down for "too much pitiful on the internets")</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Aengus was pretty sick over the weekend. He was diagnosed on Friday with a case of pneumonia. This entailed 3 shots of rocephin, 2 lab draws and currently he's on oral antibiotics. I would have taken pictures of him but he insisted that no one touch, look at or speak of his boo-boos and that includes non-flash photography. Frankly, he's a bit of a diva when he's sick. Needless to say, there wasn't much sleep for us. He's much better now but Declan... oh, that Declan. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hS6n5-_fhHI/TytZVKy-IfI/AAAAAAAAAn4/R8_7s33A1kA/s1600/IMG_8502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hS6n5-_fhHI/TytZVKy-IfI/AAAAAAAAAn4/R8_7s33A1kA/s640/IMG_8502.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He's not the jealous kind, see, but when one is forced to sit through a 2 hour doctor's office visit that does not actually revolve around one's own self, despite the dare devil acrobatics and pull-ups on the very high exam table, only to have one's own sick and needy baby brother hog one's mama for 2 days straight... well, that makes ONE ACT OUT, ok? So, while Daddy took Aengus to the pediatrician on Saturday for a re-check, Mama took Declan on a special play date to see if we could maybe fight back at that old green-eyed monster eating at my blue-green-eyed boy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CWv93Rns0M4/Tyta0yqHt_I/AAAAAAAAAoA/ZJb75StTeD4/s1600/IMG_8524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CWv93Rns0M4/Tyta0yqHt_I/AAAAAAAAAoA/ZJb75StTeD4/s640/IMG_8524.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We started the Mama/Declan-doodle-mama's-noodle Date off at Panera where Mama had a bagel and half sweet/half unsweet iced tea and Declan had some milk and the world's crumbiest heart-shaped cookie. He wolfed that puppy down like his life depended on it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K-35U76YjDQ/Tyta7qCO0kI/AAAAAAAAAoI/AI5mP3ikvAM/s1600/IMG_8527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K-35U76YjDQ/Tyta7qCO0kI/AAAAAAAAAoI/AI5mP3ikvAM/s640/IMG_8527.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Cro-magnon table manners aside, still the cutest cookie steam-shovel ever!)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then we headed on over to the Hands-On Children's Museum where we played so hard that that place didn't even know what hit 'em. Declan got to do a little climbing:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A little kayaking...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Flew a little plane...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ki36GyHNWtE/TytdC3qzd0I/AAAAAAAAAow/VHzyvaOgpG0/s1600/IMG_8584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ki36GyHNWtE/TytdC3qzd0I/AAAAAAAAAow/VHzyvaOgpG0/s640/IMG_8584.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Drove a tractor...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And manned the helm of a riverboat through a school of amazonian barracudas</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> (or, at least a cousin of the barracuda) </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We also saw a snake get fed (We didn't stay to watch her chow down, though. Maybe next time.).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then we went to Pal's and picked up some french fries for a snack. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On Monday, our pediatrician called to check on Aengus' progress. He then informed me that I could have saved my $8 admission to the Hands-On Children's Museum and have Declan lick a few door knobs around town for free if putting his immune system to the test in the middle of winter was what I was after(I'm paraphrasing here, ok?). Crap.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fast forward to Wednesday afternoon: Declan falls asleep at 4:30 pm. No big surprise since he often refuses to nap all day long until right around 4. But typically, by 5 pm Declan is up and at 'em. 5 rolls around. Then 6. Ben feeds Aengus and I put Declan's dinner in the oven. Still, Declan slept. He slept until 7:45 the next morning (or this morning, as I write this)... He woke up ready for action but his nose was very stuffy/runny. He also took a morning nap(VERY unusual). He still played hard, climbed everything in sight, excavated the back yard sandbox for an hour and a half, finger painted, had 2 baths and went to bed clutching a sippy cup of ice water. While Aengus does sick like <a href="http://www.slate.com/blogs/xx_factor/2012/01/09/did_beyonc_s_delivery_of_blue_ivy_carter_cause_other_parents_to_be_mistreated_.html">Beyonce does child-birth</a> (this link's for you, Dad), Declan does sick like a pioneer woman squatting in the middle of a row of green beans to give birth only to dust off and keep on harvesting. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's all the news that's fit to print around these parts! Happy Groundhog day, friends!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">***Re-edited this post on 2/3/2012 @ 9:18 am. Was unable to do so last night as the littlest England was refusing to be put down. Good times...Actually, it's kind of great times. ; )</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-46720371822920428552012-01-30T09:46:00.000-05:002012-01-30T09:46:28.146-05:00IHF- Oh So Silly!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Can babies be silly? I'm pretty sure it happens. In fact, I have photographic proof!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eYznLI0j15o/Tyas0ulPxWI/AAAAAAAAAno/qNPf8RReyJs/s1600/IMG_6500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eYznLI0j15o/Tyas0ulPxWI/AAAAAAAAAno/qNPf8RReyJs/s640/IMG_6500.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Get another whopping dose of "the sillies!" at </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/">Iheartfaces!</a></div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-74492041083084624342012-01-25T17:51:00.000-05:002012-01-25T17:51:24.782-05:00On to lighter fair... The January wind-down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ogtSiiK7AbQ/TyB7l0UCGUI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/0cvgohAAr3o/s1600/IMG_8235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="542" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ogtSiiK7AbQ/TyB7l0UCGUI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/0cvgohAAr3o/s640/IMG_8235.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Ben giving us the Insanity fierce face!)</div><div><br />
</div>I'm not sure if I have mentioned this but if you know me in real life you've probably heard me <strike>fuss</strike> <strike>whine</strike> discuss that Ben and I have been working our way through the <a href="http://www.beachbody.com/product/fitness_programs/insanity.do">Beach Body Insanity Work-out Program</a> after the boys go to bed. It's a 2 month cardio/strength training series that has effectively taken us about 8 weeks just to get through the first half(we DID start the program right before Thanksgiving AND ALSO moved in that time so we had to restart a few of the weeks a time or two). Well, we've started the 2nd month and if we stay on track we'll wrap it up around mid February. I'll post before and after pics once we've finished the program (and if I can build up the nerve to post awful pictures of my paunchy postpartum body on the world wide for anyone to see). We'll see. I haven't lost any real weight but I've definitely toned up and built up cardio strength and Ben looks GREAT! Also, it's been a great "Team Building" exercise for Ben and I because neither of us would work this hard without the other.<div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We did get a little snow earlier in the month and Declan thoroughly enjoyed it. It is so nice to have a back yard for him to run around in! I loved letting him play until he wore himself out!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Declan and Aengus received a red wagon from Nana and Poppy for Christmas and... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q5SC3lVL3B0/TyB6U4XtY0I/AAAAAAAAAl4/HS516XPAPkQ/s1600/IMG_8453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q5SC3lVL3B0/TyB6U4XtY0I/AAAAAAAAAl4/HS516XPAPkQ/s640/IMG_8453.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">well, I think the pictures will explain it better than any words I can come up with...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Obviously, Declan is pretty obsessed with the red wagon. He talks about it all the time and it has stolen the #1 spot for "most awesome activity" from playing in the "Rump-USSSSS!! RUMPUS ROOM!". He is very particular, though. He wants the handle of the wagon to be within reach from inside the wagon at all times. It's pretty awesome. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Aengus has learned to say <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVfrrB-m1ZE&list=UURwaL0dG5LxQoUyf56FkLcQ&index=1&feature=plcp">"Mama!" </a> and it is Amamamamaazing! Declan said "Dadda" for about 6 or more months before bothering to call after me so I guess it's only fair. Aengus is also learning the meaning of friendship and has 2 best friends besides his big bro. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z39YjIND3LA/TyB7gbl0MrI/AAAAAAAAAmI/L8Bp5_6Xz2c/s1600/IMG_8151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z39YjIND3LA/TyB7gbl0MrI/AAAAAAAAAmI/L8Bp5_6Xz2c/s640/IMG_8151.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Sweet Georgia Brown... our beloved boxer and Aengus' snuggle buddy BIG TIME)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HndyNYxqS1E/TyB8pf6CUMI/AAAAAAAAAmw/L_9BKOnuB-4/s1600/IMG_8479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HndyNYxqS1E/TyB8pf6CUMI/AAAAAAAAAmw/L_9BKOnuB-4/s640/IMG_8479.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Baby C... They crawl around and laugh at each other. It's about the sweetest thing you've ever seen)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Baby C's big bro is Declan's best bud. Declan hollers "Mon How-wee!"and Toddler H is there.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyway, so that's what we've got! I hope that makes up for the last bummer post. If that doesn't than this should...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZY7zZQL_46s/TyB54nmthGI/AAAAAAAAAlw/BnwIkXH29g0/s1600/IMG_8426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZY7zZQL_46s/TyB54nmthGI/AAAAAAAAAlw/BnwIkXH29g0/s640/IMG_8426.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">See ya next time!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div></div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-73566029780498100772012-01-12T23:20:00.002-05:002012-01-12T23:22:39.114-05:00Halley's CometI have a confession. It's one that many of you may find somewhat unsettling. Maybe even highly disturbing. Declan, on the other hand, will find it VERY embarrassing in about 10 years. Naturally, I'm going to spill it. Ready? Here goes...<br />
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If Declan can say your name, chances are that we discuss your potty habits in depth and on a daily basis.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Elmo uses big boy potty? Yes? Big Bird? Yes?"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">"And Nana and Poppy, Stella and Georgia..."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eTvenHr2668/Tw-mctfYRRI/AAAAAAAAAkw/7GWgc8JCvVk/s1600/IMG_8053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eTvenHr2668/Tw-mctfYRRI/AAAAAAAAAkw/7GWgc8JCvVk/s640/IMG_8053.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Grandaddy, Uncle Kip, Micah, Aunt Suz!?!?! Yeah, deh go bigboy potty."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Creepy as this may be, the good news is two-fold. Part 1: It's been decided that you guys are all pretty awesome at using the big boy potty. You should be sure that someone gives you your treat every time. It's a big deal guys. Seriously, those skittles are just gonna go to waste. You gotta get what's yours! Part 2: If you get mentioned on the potty list, you also get lots of turns on the bedtime prayer list. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">As you may have gathered, the Halley's Comet of potty training interest has, yet again, swung by our house and we are determined not to undermine our own efforts this time. This has made for some real breakthroughs. He's telling us every now and then if he needs to go potty. He's also choosing to wear "big boy underpants" more than "baby diapers". I'm pretty stoked. We still put him in "baby diapers" for naps and bedtime, though. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The whole point of telling you this is to lay the groundwork for the following tale of nap time adventures...</div><div style="text-align: left;">Yesterday, Declan needed to potty before lunch so we went and it was successful. He decided he wanted to wear his "big boy underpants" (cotton training pants with firetrucks on them. You know, officially licensed and issued to/for all "big boys". ) and actually kept them dry through lunch. After lunch we tried to potty one more time(unsuccessfully) and then went back into our "baby diaper" and big boy clothes for nap. About 45 minutes into nap I hear an unusual sound coming from his room. I peek in only to find...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Where are his clothes?" you ask. Why, in a pile on the floor, of course. His diaper, dry as a bone next to a puddle of something better left in a potty(thanks to Ben for putting down modular garage flooring so it just wipes right up). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The day before a similar scenario played out but ended up with a pile of something more... substantial (I didn't get a picture yesterday, though, I was too busy cleaning) and then he ran past me (completely naked) into the kitchen, grabbed Aengus' rice cereal from the pantry and proceeded to shake it out all over the kitchen floor, making a "snow angel". He then climbed into the fire place and rolled around in soot. Naturally, Ben chose that moment to walk through the door as I was running from one disaster to the next. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Good times. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm choosing to look at this "Strip naked during nap and pee on the floor" business as a sign that he wants to keep his undies clean. Yes? No? Maybe? Also, as dear friend Heather put it,"You'll need several rehearsal dinners for all the dirt you got on that kid". I think she's right. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859215610402933817.post-60102687956921583302012-01-11T11:47:00.000-05:002012-01-11T11:47:41.290-05:00Whirlwind December.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YvcljKnsPts/Tw2pbp5vS9I/AAAAAAAAAio/Lz-bdF8dlV8/s1600/IMG_7411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YvcljKnsPts/Tw2pbp5vS9I/AAAAAAAAAio/Lz-bdF8dlV8/s640/IMG_7411.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
As I mentioned in my previous post, I was really kicking myself the first half of December for trying to organize(Who? Me?! Shouldn't we hire an adult to handle this for us? Oh, right... Crap! ) a move during the Christmas season. It was a crazy month, indeed, and that's without even counting Christmas.<br />
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We moved on December 16th, the same day as Ben's sweet Grandma passed away. Our first week here in Johnson City, TN was spent in a haze of grief, packing peanuts and christmas paper. We are so incredibly grateful to be here, though. It was a stressful week but we kept our heads down and plowed on through. Can I just say how nice it is to be so close to family that you can see your cousins every day if you'd like? It's a blessing.<br />
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</div> We finished our Christmas shopping up on the morning of the 23rd(I HATE not being completely done and wrapped before then but with the move, what could we do really? ), I locked myself in our bedroom with all the Christmas paper and a glass of wine and I didn't come out until everything was wrapped. Then, our dear friends, The Champneys, mercifully had us all over for dinner. It was delicious and fantastic! They have 4 littles and their two youngest are boys and are very close in age to our boys. It makes for some good times. It was there that we discovered that this one :<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...had his own ideas about what constitutes "Busy". AS IF a big move, a funeral, lots of Gramma/Nana time and Christmas were not enough, Aengus decided that he would go ahead and learn to crawl AND ALSO cut 2 teeth (and alsonotsleepmorethan30minutesATaTIME!!! No, I'm not bitter. I'm just exhausted, y'all!) I thought I had at least another month. Seems to be taking after Declan. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Speaking of Declan, the kid is STILL talking about Santa Clause, Jingle Bells and the Angels watching "Baby DEEESUS!... ALL TRU DUH NIIIIIIIIGHT!!!" He had a great Christmas! Here's some pics from Christmas:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Have a Happy New Year!</div>McEngland like the McCountryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14346771516168918953noreply@blogger.com1