tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66398137317071109172024-03-13T14:48:09.817-07:00Jonny + JanayeJanayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.comBlogger134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-2131503165965854512015-12-14T20:22:00.003-08:002015-12-15T12:41:25.920-08:00the day we met Walter Thomas<div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">On June 17, 2015 at 10:22 in the morning we laid our eyes on you for the very first time. You are, just as your older brother, a good and undeserved gift from God, our Father. But your story starts much earlier than that rainy day in June...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Your Daddy and I dream of having a home full of children, a quiver full! So after your older brother Owen was born we were hopeful to conceive again with no trouble. Time passed and month after month we were eager to know if we would be given another child. Month after month we were dissapointed. This waiting was something we did not experience with Owen and proved to be a test of trusting the Lord. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Each month I would battle with numbers in my head...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;">How</span> many months have we been trying?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We won't have a baby by <span style="font-style: italic;">that </span>holiday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Owen will be <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> old before he has a sibling.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">They will have <span style="font-style: italic;">this many</span> months between them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Some months we were just <u>sure</u> it would happen. We had confidence in ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">For 10 months we were taught the hard lesson that God's plans are not our own.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">His timing is perfect, His plan is good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">On October 5th we found out about you! God had heard our prayers! From the beginning, this pregnancy was harder than my first but I'm positive it was because your older brother wasn't giving me a moment's rest. At 15 weeks (my first appointment) the ultrasound tech was able to tell us you were a boy, from that moment on you've been called Walter. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">From early on in this pregnancy I was plagued with fear. A hard 36 hour labor with your brother who weighed in at 11.1 lbs left me anxious as to how you would come + how big you would be when you did. Humanly speaking, I did everything I could to keep you from growing <span style="font-style: italic;">too</span> large. Coffee stunts growth they say, so I steared clear of it with Owen, but was sure to have a cup every morning with you. Excercise? I can count on one hand how many times I did anything of the sort while pregnant the first time, but I made it a priority this time around, even if it just meant a sweaty dance party with your brother in the living room. I did not have Gestational Diabeties in either pregnancy, though that is the first question I'm always asked when they hear those big birthweights.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Beyond all of those things, we prayed! I remember praying the day of the positive pregnancy test that you would be smaller. But I did it for the wrong reasons. I was concerned for my pride. I wanted to prove that under average circumstances I could do a drug free birth-<span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> could be that strong. It took 30 hours of intense labor to reach 8 cm with Owen before I got on pitocin + subsequently got an epidural. Turns out, he was just huge and that's why he was taking so long to descend and depleting me of all energy to go on naturally. But maybe, just maybe, his size was a fluke? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So while I feared you would be too big, my fear was fueled by pride. Track with me as I try to explain- we prepared for a natural birth with Owen <span style="font-style: italic;">to the max</span>. We read every book on drug free birth-everything by Ina May, Penny Simkin, Bradley Method-the whole nine yards. I labored at home for 19 hours before going to the hospital where I labored another 11 hours unmedicated, making it to 8 cm but was physically <u>completely</u> spent. Without an ounce of energy left to muster we tearfully decided to start pitocin accompanied by an epidural to get Owen to move down the birth canal. And I bawled.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>I felt like a failure. Another two hours of labor, 25 minutes of pushing and he was in my arms and all those thougths of failure were the furthest thing from my mind. He was here and nothing else mattered. But fast forward eighteen months later, looking at that positve pregnancy test, all those stupid thoughts came rushing towards me again. Was Owen's size a fluke? Would you be smaller so I could prove I could do it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The fear stayed with me through most of the pregnancy. Some nights I would toss and turn with anxiousness. We prayed. My close friends were praing also; "Lord, let him be smaller, let him come early, with a smooth delivery." Near the end, God graciously made fearful thoughts less frequent and paralyzing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">At 38 weeks a doctor at the practice thought you might be breech + scheduled an ultrasound to find out. Here we heard you were an estimated 9 lbs and measuring off the charts, similar to 42 weeks gestation. But in His kindness, God kept me from panic. I was dilated to between 4-5 cm at this point, I thought you were coming soon. That Saturday night, May 30th, I woke up to consistent painful contractions, lost some mucas on a trip to the bathroom + my body started shaking. This was identical to the beginning of Owen's labor. I called out to Jonny, "I think were going to have a baby in May."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wrong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Almost every night for the next two weeks I had strong contractions that would cease in the morning. My heart grew weary of all the false labor. I grew ancious-wanting to hold you, wanting to know when my last moments with Owen as my only would be. Your due date came and went (I actually went on a hike, dragging your brother up and down hills on your due date!). I had my membranes stripped after 39 weeks and one other time on June 16th. Dr. Evans was shocked I still had not delivered and I really was too. At that Tuesday afternoon appointment we set an induction date for Friday the 19th, 40 weeks 6 days (same as Owen's gestation, figuring you didn't need more time to grow than him!). But as I left her office I started to realize that an induction wouldn't be needed.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The day labor began.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">That afternoon (June 16) Owen and I walked around the mall waiting for your Daddy to get off work. I felt very crampy and moved at a snail's pace. Jonny wanted to order dinner from Simply Thai- pad thai, spice level 4 to get things moving, and I complied, though I normally woundn't get hotter than a 3. We sat at the dinner table that night, eating while I bounced on the birthing ball through strong contractions, undeniably different than any contractions I'd had for the last few weeks. I'd been on the ball for about an hour and didn't want to stop for fear the contractions would quit and labor would stall again. It came time for Owen to go to bed so I got up and rocked my sweet boy for the last time as my only baby. I savored it because I knew. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once he was asleep, your Dad and I started walking laps of our apartment complex parking lot to get things going again and oh boy did it work! The contractions were so strong, starting 2-3 minutes apart, but soon they were every minute. The sky was a dark purple + a storm cloud was coming in the west, the air smelled so intensely like rain. I made your dad carry an umbrella for the first lap but it only ever sprinkled on us so we ditched that quickly. We were so unsure of what to do. The doctor had told us to come to the hospital as soon as I had consistent painful contractions, thinking you would come quickly being my second big baby. But the weeks of false labor kept us guessing when they would stop. For an hour and a half we walked, stopping for every contraction that took over my whole body. But it's so much nicer to labor outside, it just feels right. A contraction comes like a burst of wind-violently shaking the leaves of a tree, but in a moment it stops and all is calm again. We kept mentioning going to the hospital but we'd talk ourselves into walking a bit more. Finally, around 10 pm we came back to our apartment to grab our things. A friend of ours was staying with Owen until my parents arrived, who had preemptively started their 9 hour journey to Louisville that morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I feared, contractions stopped once we were in the car. We kept going though, thinking that if they started back up as strong as they had been, we'd want to be there. My doctor had said to me <span style="font-style: italic;">the entire pregnancy, </span>literally at every appointment, "You have a proven pelvis, when it happens, it will be quick." So we got to triage and I felt really silly because I didn't feel like I was in labor anymore. Dr. Evans was on duty and checked me in at 6.5 cm dilated. Unlike with Owen, I was positive for Group B and per standard, was to be given two rounds of antibiotics before delivery. Dr. Evans thought it best if I stay and get the antibiotics since I was so dilated. She was confident that labor would pick back up and we'd "have a baby by 4 in the morning" she kept saying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The nurses were coming in and out, prepping me and setting up my IV port. Before I knew it we were walking the all too familiar halls of labor and delivery. They are etched in my mind. Your father and I walked hand in hand, round and round the nurses station wanting desperately for your brother to decend. Now I was there again, wondering how you would come. So many unknowns would be answered as the night/morning preceeded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We came to our room, I was pleased to find it had windows! Seeing the sky really gives you bearings on the whole experience. There were no windows in my room for Owen's labor- it was fancy, with a tub and lots of space, but I'd pick a room with windows any day. I really was so pleased with the room. The nurse came in with the first round of antibiotics around 11:30 pm. Jonny got comfy on the couch and I sat there in bed, head buzzing about the possibility of meeting you soon. The nurse had heard me say I wasn't having contractions so she looked surprised when the monitor showed I was having one. "So you don't feel that contraction?" To which I replied, "I'm having one?" "Uh ya, a pretty big one" she said. I had no epidural at this point so I don't really have an explantion for that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Four and half hours passed just like that, I didn't sleep, though I know I should have, but how do you calm down enough to sleep when you know you're meeting your child for the first time? <span style="font-style: italic;">Really, how?</span> The nurse came in with word from Dr. Evans to start pitocin. We weren't taken by surprise by this, she had mentioned in my last few appointments, suspecting you were similar in size to Owen, that pitocin would be helpful in bringing you down the canal. Knowing I would prefer less inteverntions, she made it clear she did not think I would need it for long, just long enough to move you down a bit. So at 4:30 am pitocin started. There is a crazy difference between natural and augmented contractions. They literally do feel so very unnaturally<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>painful. Shockingly painful. They kept building in strength and intensity. Your father stayed by my side, breathing with me through them, shaking my legs and hips and lower back through each one. That brought the most relief. I breathed into my lavendar washcloth and exhaled like a horse, flapping my lips, Ina may would have been so proud. But after 3 hours of feeling like each contraction was literally going to rip me in half and split me open, I was done. I was 8 cm and asked for the epidural. But the greatest part about it wasn't knowing that soon the crazy pain would be over, the greatest part was the <span style="font-style: italic;">complete</span> peace I had about it. There was no shame like I had experienced the first time. And in an instant all those fears for my pride were exposed as the silly, God dishonoring thoughts that they were. He banished the fears and the peace I felt was a perfect example of His kindness that leads to repentence!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The epidural was effectively relieving pain by 8 am. Dr. Evans had to leave at 7 and introduced us to Dr. Dutton who was now on duty. She was a very sweet lady, very petite. "I hear you have big babies" she said. I remember thinking "<span style="font-style: italic;">One</span>, I've had just <span style="font-style: italic;">one </span>baby." She relayed that Dr. Evans thought you would be just as big but stressed <span style="font-style: italic;">again </span>I "have a proven pelvis." She left with a smile letting me know she'd pop in again to check on me. From 8 to 9 am I dilated to 9.5 cm, and wouldn 't you know <span style="font-style: italic;">that's </span>when I finally fell asleep! Between bouts of shut eye (I could still feel contractions which kept me from deep sleep) we called my parents to check in on Owen and let them know it should be soon! Another hour passed and at 10 am, I was at 10 cm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The room started buzzing as nurses came in and out preparing to receive you. I noticed everything with such detail-I looked at Jonny with the realization that in moments we would have two boys to hold and love, protect and train. A few years ago we were just kids who met and fell hard in love + now we were raising kids, kids<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>(plural)! I was a little nervous but mostly just really excited to see you finally. Dr. Dutton came in smiling. She asked about Owen and what he was like...little did he know his world was about to be rocked!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The nurse asked if I'd like a mirror and I said no, I find them a bit distracting. She and the doctor tried to convince me otherwise. I don't actually remember changing my mind but the mirror was put in place despite my hesitation. Before I knew it we were talking about pushing with the next contraction. It was 10:10 am, I'd been in the hospital for 12 hours, and in labor for about 22 hours.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dr. Dutton was so peaceful and calming. After fighting fear for most of the pregnancy you'd think this moment would be the height of it, but fear was far from me, praise be to God!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pushing with each of the next three contractions, we were able to see your head, with one more push your head was completely out. I continued to push as coached but soon the Dr. fell silent and whispered something to the nurse that started with "Go..." Her face that had been so pleasant all morning was struck with terror. In seconds the number of people in the room more than doubled and I was laid flat on my back. No one was talking to us and we didn't ask any questions. My nurse was back at my side, along with three others. She pushed hard on my abdomen while the two others pushed my pelvic bones. Your Daddy's face was directly above me, he was staring at the doctor with what looked like a million fears in his eyes, I'll never forget his face, the most scared I've ever seen him. He looked down at me and I'm sure I told him, but without a word, that I was scared and didn't know what to do. With his next breath he spoke out our only hope, "Please God." I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed the same. More than a minute passed in slow motion and I noticed the deepening concern on everyone's faces. My nurse told Jonny to lift my head up and push on my shoulders and told me to continue pushing "with all you've got!" How many times I pushed with all of my strength I can't be certain, but it felt like forever. In reality 2 minutes had gone by. The two most terrifying minutes of our lives. Suddenly, Dr. Dutton's eyes gave me a glimmer of hope. She had managed to hook her fingers around your armpits and bring you out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">You were a deep purple, your face was swollen and bruised. I heard no crying as you were quickly put on the baby bed and the other doctor in the room examined you. So many thoughts were ringing in my ears, questions, concerns, things seemed to still be in slow motion. I was holding my breath until I built up the courage to ask if you were okay. The pediatric doctor with you looked up and right at me and said "He's okay." Tears poured out of my eyes. Every fear I had was let loose in a flood and replaced with sobering relief. I didn't stop crying for the rest of the day. Dr. Dutton was busy dealing with some excessive bleeding from the traumatic delivery. Afterwards, she came to hold my hand and tell me that I remarkably only had a second degree tear but I would likely experience PTSD. I'm sure my crying had something to do with it but she just kept apologizing over and over again. When I could control the crying enough to speak I tried to convey how grateful I was that you were here and alive. The doctor and nurses were checking your vitals and making sure your shoulder or collar bone were not broken. Once they determined you were okay, they put you on the scale. Your Daddy was holding my hand, so torn between comforting me and checking on you, standing between me and the scale. I heard a nurse say "11.15"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Bigger. Bigger than your brother. It didn't register to me just then, that you were nearly a pound bigger! I was in shock, but I heard you crying and that was the sweetest sound to my ears. You were brought to me and laid on my chest. God had heard our prayers, you were safe and I wept with thankfulness.</span><br />
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Click <a href="http://jonnyandjanaye.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-story-of-how-we-met-you_18.html" target="_blank">here</a> to read the birth story of our first son, Owen. </div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-86021800472632919522014-08-07T13:21:00.002-07:002015-11-01T18:48:41.807-08:00in the shade<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Stumbled across this from an anonymous writer featured in a devotional by Joni Eareckson Tada. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"If God has called you to really be like Jesus in all your spirit, He will draw you into a life of crucifixion and humility...and put such demands of obedience, that He will not allow you to follow other Christians, and in many ways He will seem to let other good people do things which He will not let you do. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Other Christians may push themselves, pull wires, and work schemes to carry out their plans, but you cannot do it; and if you attempt it, you will meet with such failure from the Lord as to make you sorely penitent. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Others will be allowed to succeed, or having a legacy left to them or in having luxuries, but God will choose to supply you daily because He wants you to have something far better than gold...and that is a helpless dependence on Him.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The Lord may let others be honored and yet keep you hid away in obscurity...because He wants to produce some choice, fragrant fruit which can only be produced in the shade.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">God will let others be great but keep you small. He will let others get the credit for the work you have done, and this will make your reward ten times greater when Jesus comes. The Holy Spirit will put a strict watch on you and rebuke you for little words and feelings which other Christians never seem distressed over.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So make up your mind that God is infinitely sovereign and has the right to do as He pleases with His own. And He will not explain to you a thousand things which may puzzle you. God will take you at your word, and if you absolutely sell yourself to be HIs slave, He will wrap you up in a jealous love. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Settle it forever, that you are to deal directly with the Holy Spirit. Now when you are so possessed with the living God that you are, in your secret heart, pleased and delighted over this peculiar, personal, private jealous guardianship and management of the Holy Spirit over your life, you will have found the vestibule of heaven."</span><br />
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-4026306749017194292014-07-07T07:33:00.000-07:002014-07-07T07:56:42.764-07:00big things and small things<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, Owen turned 1 year! </div>
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Also 13, 14 and 15 months. But who's counting?</div>
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Spring came and went. </div>
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Jonny turned 27 and graduated with his M.Div. at SBTS.</div>
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We took a trip to Nashville to celebrate our 3rd Anniversary; Lots of touristy things happened there.</div>
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Now we're well into summer here in Kentucky. </div>
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And we've spent several golden evenings grilling and eating together on our porch. </div>
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Many hours have been spent poolside and kicking a ball around with Dad.</div>
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There are lots of new things on our horizon; </div>
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A lot of unknowns.</div>
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A couple different job possibilities have been presented to Jonny.</div>
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We are excited to see what may unfold but are asking the Lord for contentment even </div>
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if nothing were to change.</div>
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We started Foster Care training back in April.</div>
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Lord willing, we'll be done with training by the end of July.</div>
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There are still a few logistics to be completed, (home studies, background check)<br />
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but in the meantime </div>
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we are praying the Lord would prepare our hearts and minds as our family</div>
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seeks to open our home and battle for the broken and vulnerable.</div>
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Please pray with us in the waiting.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Owen hasn't let a week go by without growing a tooth!<br />
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Somedays aren't so bad, but...<br />
<br />
some. days. are. rough.<br />
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His eating goes in spurts depending on the pain in his gums.<br />
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BUT* I cannot go without mentioning a huge grace from the Lord.<br />
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With as poor of a sleeper as Owen was in the beginning<br />
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<i>(cough, cough, first 11 months of life, cough)</i><br />
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I had prepared myself that everything<br />
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<b>EVERYTHING</b><br />
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would be a battle.<br />
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The beloved paci.<br />
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He's been sucking on one since about 3 weeks old.<br />
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Jonny and I have spent too many hours of our lives concerned with the whereabouts of pacis.<br />
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I've heard from friends of horrible attachment issues with pacis and<br />
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was bracing myself for the parting of the paci to be an issue.<br />
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But the Lord is kind.<br />
<br />
A little over a month ago, Owen's teeth bothered him so bad that he did not want anything<br />
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in his mouth, including the beloved paci.<br />
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He had chewed a hole through it, I'm not sure if that made it lose it's suction,<br />
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but whatever the reason, he didn't want it anywhere near his mouth.<br />
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He held it in his hands for about two weeks during naps and at night.<br />
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But we haven't been able to find it and he hasn't missed it at all!<br />
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I'm kinda shocked that it wasn't a big deal.<br />
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But mostly thankful.<br />
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-14596718450856117112014-05-10T07:58:00.000-07:002014-05-10T08:49:27.135-07:00Ready?Motherhood.<br />
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It's a trending topic in the month of May.</div>
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Thoughts have been whirling around in my head about motherhood.</div>
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Owen was about 2 months old last Mother's Day.</div>
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My life had never been jolted so much than with becoming a mother.<br />
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I'm not sure I had ever wanted anything more than to be a mother.</div>
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I remember spouting it off to my classmates at the age of 17. </div>
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And Jonny didn't need to guess if I was "ready" to be a mom just a year after getting married either.</div>
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But was I really ready?<br />
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Sure, I thought I was.<br />
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People ask all the time now, "Are you ready for another one?"<br />
And I wonder what they think being "ready" would mean?<br />
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Are you ready to be needed 24 hours a day?<br />
When you're tired? When you're sick?<br />
Are you ready to put someone else's needs above your own, always?</div>
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I just don't think anyone can say they're <i>really</i> ready for that.<br />
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Our flesh won't let us be.</div>
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One day in May last year, I'd been at home all day (as everyday) with my newborn. </div>
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Things had gone about as smoothly as possible with a tiny human who eats and poops continually. </div>
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Not much sleeping happened in Owen's newborn months though. </div>
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He's never been a fan of naps, and for the longest time, sleeping in general. </div>
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It was a warm day, we'd stayed inside and made it to the 4:00 hour. </div>
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Jonny wouldn't be home until 9:00. </div>
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This was during that unexplainable period when babies like to cry hours in the early evening for seemingly no reason at all.<br />
He had been fed, changed, swaddled, rocked, listened to music, </div>
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taken to the window to watch the birdies and the tree branches sway. </div>
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Nothing was going to make him content. </div>
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I desperately tried to nurse him again and again just to see if he would be satisfied with more to eat. </div>
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But he wasn't. </div>
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And as I listened to his persistent wailing all I could do was cry myself.</div>
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I'd do anything to get him to settle down.</div>
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But I couldn't.</div>
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And I balled my eyes out.</div>
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I called Jonny and couldn't get any words out, he just listened to me sob.</div>
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I just needed someone to know I was on the brink of what I thought was the end of my world.</div>
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Really, truly, in my sleep deprived, not-thinking-straight, focused-on-my-own-strength mindset </div>
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I wasn't going to be able to go on. </div>
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With a few more hours of listening to the cry that makes your heart ache and head split at the same time, Owen settled.<br />
I got him bathed, swaddled, fed and fast to sleep.<br />
My head was numb from its spinning and my heart was broken from the angry and selfish thoughts I had had during the evening.</div>
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And there, laying on the couch, as all was silent and I started to fit the pieces together, the Lord showed me that I had been relying on my own stamina and few physical comforts to get through motherhood up until that point.</div>
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I had been broken in those hours.</div>
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Broken and weary and desperate and lonely and scared and so so very aware of my weakness.</div>
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Broken of self reliance.</div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></div>
Where do you turn in your weakness?<br />
There is nowhere to turn apart from the perfection of Christ and the lavish love of the Father.<br />
I have this hope.<br />
That he who saved me, also brings me to and through each season of life, with every joy and trial, for my sanctification.<br />
For my good and His glory.<br />
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I was told over and over growing up that I'd make a great mama one day.<br />
And I wanted to be a great mama.<br />
The one thing I wanted so badly from an early age, to be a mother, is where I consistently see my desperate need of Christ.<br />
The sin of selfishness and pride, encompassing self-pity and entitlement, can so easily sneak up and strangle all the joy to be found in the good gift God has given me in motherhood.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I wasn't ready to be a mother in my own strength.<br />
God has lavished his rich mercy on me in my many moments of failure.<br />
And He has given me the strength for each new day.<br />
<br />
Owen is a tremendous and underserved gift.<br />
Being a mother is both a million times harder and more joyous than I could ever have imagined!<br />
But the greatest gift of all is knowing, <i>really</i> knowing, that I have a sure Hope when I fall.<br />
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-28879073171660192112014-02-26T07:36:00.003-08:002014-02-26T07:53:25.426-08:00eleven months<div style="text-align: center;">
Very hard to believe the picture below was taken just about a year ago.</div>
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Just looking at it makes me uncomfortable.</div>
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Pregnancy is a miracle.</div>
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I was carrying Owen around the seminary last week and I had a thought... </div>
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He weighs maybe about 25 pounds (I'm guessing)</div>
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and I was getting pretty tired of carrying him, for how heavy he is.</div>
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Then I remembered that I was carrying <i>nearly </i>double that weight by the end of pregnancy.</div>
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See for yourself.</div>
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Thankfully, the weight loss that comes with breastfeeding is nothing short of a miracle either!</div>
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I weigh less now than what I did before Owen.</div>
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Different shape, though. </div>
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But, tis life!</div>
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I'm feeling so nostalgic as of late realizing how quickly time is passing.</div>
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Like, whoa.</div>
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He's going to be </div>
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ONE YEAR OLD.</div>
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I just can't even expound upon that.</div>
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Just, whoa.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RgrAarEoFNU/Uw4INCMjZYI/AAAAAAAABqU/KOf2SzLFcpU/s1600/Image+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RgrAarEoFNU/Uw4INCMjZYI/AAAAAAAABqU/KOf2SzLFcpU/s1600/Image+2.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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This month has been different, so so different than all the rest.</div>
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What's the biggest change you ask?</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We're sleeping through the night!</span></div>
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IT TOOK ABOUT TEN MONTHS</div>
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but he did it.</div>
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They told me this day would come.</div>
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And I'll admit it, I was skeptical.</div>
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But it's here.</div>
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AND IT'S AWESOME.</div>
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Occasionally he demands some attention (milk) in the night but it's rare.</div>
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We have a fireball on our hands.</div>
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He is very observant, always watching.</div>
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But when he decides to do something, he does it with everything he has.</div>
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For example:</div>
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He's loved using his walker since he got it at Christmas, </div>
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but now that he's gained confidence he tries to "walk" with everything.</div>
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Most recently, his high chair.</div>
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He gets behind it and pushes it all around with a big grin on his face.</div>
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Not walking solo yet. He's pretty scared to try.</div>
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We've been calling him "scaredy cat" lately.</div>
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If anything happens he's not expecting his eyes get big, </div>
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eyebrows furrow and he lets out an exclamation like, "Oooh, Oooh!"</div>
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He's starting to show affection more.</div>
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Sometimes he'll cuddle with mommy and daddy now.</div>
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I've been waiting for this!</div>
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It may be teeth coming, but I am cherishing this time with him.</div>
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He's started to mellow down a bit.</div>
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Before, he would always fight tiredness at all cost.</div>
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Never give in to the urge to shut his eyes.</div>
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But now, he'll be playing and all the sudden just lay down for like 5 minutes for a rest.</div>
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Jonny even rocked him to sleep at church last Sunday for the first time since he was a newbie.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lFavyCobYKE/Uw4IT99kn4I/AAAAAAAABqg/dWnpsFd2IW8/s1600/Image+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lFavyCobYKE/Uw4IT99kn4I/AAAAAAAABqg/dWnpsFd2IW8/s1600/Image+1.jpg" height="640" width="484" /></a></div>
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We're having food issues as of late.</div>
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Before he'd eat anything and everything in sight.</div>
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Like, he could put it down.</div>
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But he's not so interested these days and is wanting to nurse more often.</div>
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I don't want to force feed him if he's not hungry,</div>
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but the tantrums he throws are not okay.</div>
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It could be teeth coming (he still only has the 6).</div>
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As this is our first, Jonny and I are in uncharted territory everyday.</div>
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I need the reminder of God's lavish grace on me every hour </div>
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to be able to parent Owen through the good times and the tough.</div>
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He's doing a new squishy face smile lately and we can't get enough of it.</div>
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Thankfully we caught it for his 11 month picture.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qqq7NaetK58/Uw4IVKtuRyI/AAAAAAAABqo/u4Wfo0ZZ35g/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qqq7NaetK58/Uw4IVKtuRyI/AAAAAAAABqo/u4Wfo0ZZ35g/s1600/Image.jpg" height="640" width="482" /></a></div>
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One more month until we are parents of a 1 year old.</div>
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How time flies.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-40141079239878634032014-02-11T17:11:00.000-08:002014-02-12T05:35:40.773-08:00the very best<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm currently reading a little book that gives a glimpse into the lives of five "faithful" women. </div>
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Today I began reading about Lilias Trotter. </div>
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I haven't finished her story yet but I was struck by some of her words and wanted to share them.</div>
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A little about Lilias Trotter:</div>
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Lilias, born in England, lived from 1853-1928. </div>
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She had an incredible talent for art, particularly painting. </div>
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Her mother sent Lilias' work to John Ruskin, known to be "<i>the </i>voice of the art world"at the time. </div>
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He took her in as a pupil and claimed that if she would devote herself to her artwork </div>
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"she would be the greatest living painter and do things that would be immortal."</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H_1-5pHIgso/Uvp8EDWZ1qI/AAAAAAAABpc/ZB7FnSFyT0A/s1600/27-buttercup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H_1-5pHIgso/Uvp8EDWZ1qI/AAAAAAAABpc/ZB7FnSFyT0A/s1600/27-buttercup.jpg" height="344" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://ililiastrotter.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">[via]</a></div>
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Here are her words:</div>
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"Never has it been so easy to live in half a dozen good harmless worlds at once --art,<br />
music, social science, games, motoring, the following of some profession, and so on. </div>
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And between them we run the risk of drifting about, the "good" hiding the "best.". . .</div>
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It is easy to find out whether our lives are focused, and if so, where the focus lies. </div>
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Where do our thoughts settle when consciousness comes back in the morning? </div>
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Where do they swing back when the pressure is off during the day? . . </div>
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Dare to have it out with God . . . and ask Him to show you whether or not all is focused on Christ and His glory.</div>
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How do we bring things to a focus in the world of optics? </div>
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Not by looking at the things to be dropped, but by looking at the one point that is to be brought out.</div>
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Turn your soul's vision to Jesus, and look and look at Him, and a strange dimness will come over all that is apart from Him."</div>
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. . .</div>
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Life always has and always will be full<b> </b>of "harmless worlds" to devote ourselves to. </div>
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Be it books, fashion, fitness, music, movies, or "motoring". </div>
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Our lives can be divided and dispersed between so very many interests. </div>
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Or maybe not so many. </div>
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Maybe we just have our one<i> thing </i>that we are intensely passionate about. </div>
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It drives us, it gives us self worth or purpose. </div>
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For Lilias, it could have been painting.</div>
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For me- </div>
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In high school it could have been music.</div>
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In college it could have been finding a spouse.</div>
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Presently, it could be motherhood.</div>
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Music.</div>
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A spouse.</div>
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Motherhood.</div>
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Those are all certainly good things. </div>
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But Lilias warns, don't be caught drifting among the "good" and miss the "best"!</div>
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How do you know if you're doing that?</div>
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Lilias gives this challenge;</div>
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<b>What's your first thought in the morning?</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>What is it you can't wait to get to when your to-dos are checked off at the end of the day?</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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Be honest.</div>
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<b>Is your aim Christ and his glory?</b></div>
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<b>Are you preferring good things when you could have the Ultimate?</b></div>
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If your answer is "no", like mine in countless cases, what do you do?</div>
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I know I have the tendency to begrudgingly try to "let go" of these things.</div>
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But with that mentality my focus is still on that very thing, by trying to focus on it-less.</div>
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<i>Which doesn't work by the way.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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I had to read that last point she made again. </div>
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Optics. She's talking about the eye! I imagined a camera and that helped.</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">"Not by looking at the things to be dropped, but by looking at the one point that is to be brought out."</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Focus doesn't happen by erasing the background. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">It happens by illuminating the main thing.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The "best" thing.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>The best thing is <i>always</i> Jesus.</b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">"Turn your soul's vision to Jesus, and look and look at Him, and a strange dimness will come over all that is apart from Him."</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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Illuminate Jesus by taking time to look at him.</div>
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<b>And then look at him some more.</b></div>
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The Bible gives us the ability to do that. </div>
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We can meditate on the truths of Scripture that show us God's goodness, </div>
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ultimately in His son Jesus, and He alone is worthy of our devotion.</div>
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. . .</div>
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Lilias' last point almost read like a song didn't it?</div>
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That's because it is.</div>
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<i>Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus </i>was written in 1922 by Helen H. Lemmel,</div>
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inspired by those very words of Lilias Trotter.</div>
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Have a listen, just press play.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/2cQqLqs5FGE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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. . .</div>
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Lilias did not choose to devote herself to art as the renowned John Ruskin would have it.</div>
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She chose to devote her life to Jesus and making him famous in the world.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-86145621693406882742014-02-06T17:23:00.004-08:002014-02-07T07:08:59.569-08:0010 months & I quit.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDnP-lNfhZ0/UvQ0SRjV6HI/AAAAAAAABo4/jqfII1d7sis/s1600/Image+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDnP-lNfhZ0/UvQ0SRjV6HI/AAAAAAAABo4/jqfII1d7sis/s1600/Image+4.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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Two weeks ago Owen turned ten months old.</div>
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That makes him ten and a half months old,</div>
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in case you weren't sure about how those things work.</div>
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Weeks and stuff...they can be tricky.</div>
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Well it's hit me like a ton of bricks that he's about to be one.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">ein Jahr alt.</span></div>
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That's German for 'one year old'. </div>
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Because we're learning German. </div>
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Jonny & I.</div>
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He's learning it for a Ph. D. that is on the horizon and I'm learning it for fun.</div>
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And in hopes of traveling and putting it to use one day.</div>
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Annnnyways. </div>
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Can you tell my husband has been gone all day and I'm a little loopy?</div>
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Spending all day with a crazy, <span style="font-size: large;">adorably crazy</span>, 10 month old will do that to you.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zpOX0rMCb4s/UvQ0dbNBGcI/AAAAAAAABpM/veprsOelDYc/s1600/Image+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zpOX0rMCb4s/UvQ0dbNBGcI/AAAAAAAABpM/veprsOelDYc/s1600/Image+1.jpg" height="640" width="492" /></a></div>
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But he's in bed now.</div>
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And I'm sitting here with a slice of whole foods pizza and gonna just spew some words out, k?</div>
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Owen's appetite has grown tremendously over the last month and a half.</div>
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In early January we went on a trip to see family in Missouri, Arkansas and Texas.</div>
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It was then that I started to notice his increased appetite.</div>
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I'm sure it has to do with the fact that he's moving a lot more.</div>
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Practically running from furniture piece to furniture piece.</div>
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He cannot be contained!</div>
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He's not walking solo yet.</div>
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But could if he got over the nerves.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4udrhsgTGU/UvQ0dR0cdRI/AAAAAAAABpQ/fdHOIZFSW4c/s1600/Image+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4udrhsgTGU/UvQ0dR0cdRI/AAAAAAAABpQ/fdHOIZFSW4c/s1600/Image+3.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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I feel it too.</div>
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He is heavy. Packing on the pounds.</div>
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He's fluctuated between 95th-75th percentile most of his life.</div>
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(With the exception of his birth and first month where he was considerably above normal)</div>
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Some of his favorite foods:</div>
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blueberries</div>
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peas</div>
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cauliflower</div>
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green beans</div>
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mac&cheese</div>
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yogurt</div>
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oranges</div>
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meat of any kind</div>
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toast with coconut oil and cinnamon</div>
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He likes bananas but I only give them in moderation <i>(constipation is an issue).</i></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VMOTqWP4-yc/UvQ0OfDQT2I/AAAAAAAABow/w-kW2Kb8fZQ/s1600/Image+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VMOTqWP4-yc/UvQ0OfDQT2I/AAAAAAAABow/w-kW2Kb8fZQ/s1600/Image+2.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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This kid can have fun.</div>
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all-day-non-stop-who-needs-to-nap?-kind-of-fun.</div>
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My absolute favorite thing is to watch Jonny and Owen play.</div>
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They are such boys.</div>
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Owen even laughs after tooting now.</div>
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He looks at you and raises his eyebrows like, "Did you hear that?"</div>
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But yes, they rough house, like boys do.</div>
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Sometimes more than I'd like, </div>
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but I have to remember to chill out a bit.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDnP-lNfhZ0/UvQ0SRjV6HI/AAAAAAAABo4/jqfII1d7sis/s1600/Image+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDnP-lNfhZ0/UvQ0SRjV6HI/AAAAAAAABo4/jqfII1d7sis/s1600/Image+4.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And if you've made it this far and are still reading you'll get to know what I'm quitting.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Or going to try to quit.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today, for what feels like the first time, I let Owen make messes </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and instead of following his trail of messes and</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
picking them up,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I got down on the floor and played with him.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A lot.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And we had fun.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now I'm not saying I will always resist the urge to tidy up behind him.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I am saying I'm going to try and be more intentional to stop.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There's a time and a place for cleaning up.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think realizing he's almost a year old is making me relish the time I have with him.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I want to remember the way his face crinkles up </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and eyes sparkle with delight at the newness of a toy he hasn't seen in the last five minutes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I want to remember the funny noises he makes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The way he purses his lips to say "words"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The way he stretches out his arms and rotates his hands when he gets excited.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Things change so quickly.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I want to see them happen.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-17525578851973890502014-01-03T08:18:00.001-08:002014-01-03T08:18:55.844-08:009 months<div style="text-align: center;">
9 months</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
21 pounds</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
29.5 inches</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
75th percentile for height and weight</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GEOvKk7AnCg/UsbhrmUJ-1I/AAAAAAAABoM/j6Ri6VBrKks/s1600/Image+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GEOvKk7AnCg/UsbhrmUJ-1I/AAAAAAAABoM/j6Ri6VBrKks/s640/Image+3.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"He's by no means skinny!" said the doctor.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(as indicated by the rolls in this picture)</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Vaxk9LUSTg/Usbhq0ML_MI/AAAAAAAABoI/v9HtCGjGFDc/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Vaxk9LUSTg/Usbhq0ML_MI/AAAAAAAABoI/v9HtCGjGFDc/s640/Image.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Owen breastfeeds 5 times per day.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
7AM, </div>
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after first nap (between 10 and 11AM), </div>
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after second nap (around 3PM), </div>
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before bed at 7PM </div>
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and once in the night between 2-3AM</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IczClHSfRXs/UsbhjcvHsuI/AAAAAAAABn8/6DPMC6O5sUc/s1600/Image+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IczClHSfRXs/UsbhjcvHsuI/AAAAAAAABn8/6DPMC6O5sUc/s640/Image+2.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is eating three meals and a few snacks during the day. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He also tried to eat a bandaid yesterday...sneaky guy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
By now he is an expert cruiser.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He walks with the help of a push cart that his grandparents gave him for Christmas.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He sometimes will stand unassisted for several seconds at a time.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fex1y87iJZw/UsbhkocrDbI/AAAAAAAABoA/ZwdY8q6XsBk/s1600/Image+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fex1y87iJZw/UsbhkocrDbI/AAAAAAAABoA/ZwdY8q6XsBk/s640/Image+1.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
His naps are good when things are consistent.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When we had Jonny's family here for a week, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he didn't do so well with naps- </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he reverted to his old cat-napping ways!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He probably won't do well next week when we take a trip to see family either.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He's currently been asleep for nearly 2 hours</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and it's wonderful.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Good naps are a kindness from the Lord to mommies!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-91669103652932822952013-12-12T17:54:00.002-08:002013-12-12T17:54:50.773-08:00eight months<div style="text-align: center;">
Back in November, Owen hit 8 months.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kMgrjhkjs-I/UqpiQ5fQXjI/AAAAAAAABmU/QuTWcQHpDwM/s1600/IMG_2713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kMgrjhkjs-I/UqpiQ5fQXjI/AAAAAAAABmU/QuTWcQHpDwM/s640/IMG_2713.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is now a wiz at crawling, standing, "walking" with the support of furniture</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and picking up any speck of dirt (errrr...food) left on my carpet.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Which happens to be a lot, especially around the dinner table, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>especially</i> around Owen's high chair.) </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I just got done picking up enough rice and broccoli to feed a second child.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gross.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XrQvAsTffUo/UqpizjUcoiI/AAAAAAAABmg/B738IDoZfP4/s1600/IMG_2711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XrQvAsTffUo/UqpizjUcoiI/AAAAAAAABmg/B738IDoZfP4/s640/IMG_2711.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
More mobility has called for some changes around the house. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Two baby gates were installed.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Plug-in covers have been placed.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And those handy gadgets that keep drawers and cabinets closed, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ya! Those are going on shortly.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We are trying our hardest to be consistent with discipline when he</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
reaches for something he shouldn't touch,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but there are times we just aren't looking and we don't want baby boy </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
getting hurt if it can be avoided.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sleep.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A great night for Owen is a waking around 2 or 3AM, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a quick feed, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and back to sleep until 6:20AM.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A bad night? Well I'll spare you the details. But its no fun for anyone.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But it is easier to handle now that we've moved into a bedroom.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gone are the days of couch sleeping (October-November)</div>
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and air-mattress sleeping (November-December), </div>
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Jonny and I are sleeping on our bed, in a bedroom. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And it feels like a dream.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I'm sleeping hard enough to actually dream which is the first time since way </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
before Owen was born and I was uncomfortably carrying all 11 pounds of him in-utero.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One of the last not bitterly cold days in November we took Owen to the park.</div>
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He was his usual stoic self for most of it.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnBie3y0xZU/Uqpi1YZCLUI/AAAAAAAABmo/-sfClztxijk/s1600/IMG_2603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnBie3y0xZU/Uqpi1YZCLUI/AAAAAAAABmo/-sfClztxijk/s640/IMG_2603.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V0fnVacZFAY/UqpjYIdpcLI/AAAAAAAABm4/5TedYUI3p08/s1600/IMG_4658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V0fnVacZFAY/UqpjYIdpcLI/AAAAAAAABm4/5TedYUI3p08/s640/IMG_4658.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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But we eventually got him to smile.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8fsjLsSxUuw/Uqpm0bO4yBI/AAAAAAAABnY/Xx0pEn7TY3s/s1600/IMG_2604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8fsjLsSxUuw/Uqpm0bO4yBI/AAAAAAAABnY/Xx0pEn7TY3s/s640/IMG_2604.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
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At the end of the month we went on a little mini-vacay to Nashville, IN.</div>
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Mini-vacays are a whole lot different with a baby in tow.</div>
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But we enjoyed ourselves.</div>
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All except when Santa got near. Owen doesn't like Santa we found out.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--aT8YRWS65I/UqpjQqzmmKI/AAAAAAAABmw/Lp6aa7AU4RU/s1600/IMG_4734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--aT8YRWS65I/UqpjQqzmmKI/AAAAAAAABmw/Lp6aa7AU4RU/s640/IMG_4734.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8H1uPmIWkLo/UqpjcL4BiwI/AAAAAAAABnA/y6z3TXnpsqA/s1600/IMG_4733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8H1uPmIWkLo/UqpjcL4BiwI/AAAAAAAABnA/y6z3TXnpsqA/s640/IMG_4733.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3fsG1sMABvE/Uqpjyfc9sBI/AAAAAAAABnI/SNJbvHuJrRs/s1600/IMG_4756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3fsG1sMABvE/Uqpjyfc9sBI/AAAAAAAABnI/SNJbvHuJrRs/s640/IMG_4756.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And when we came back home we got some snow.</div>
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It was one of the sweetest things ever to see Owen watching the snow fall with amazement.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mlXgnracX9U/Uqpj24pEqmI/AAAAAAAABnQ/b9jknKvNBkg/s1600/IMG_4780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mlXgnracX9U/Uqpj24pEqmI/AAAAAAAABnQ/b9jknKvNBkg/s640/IMG_4780.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-15188517681707390702013-11-02T09:46:00.002-07:002013-11-02T09:51:26.815-07:00seven months and some fun stuff<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TtTiAZJIvZE/UnUpqlAkdVI/AAAAAAAABlE/wufgRqMac_E/s1600/Image+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TtTiAZJIvZE/UnUpqlAkdVI/AAAAAAAABlE/wufgRqMac_E/s640/Image+4.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
Owen is nearly 7.5 months old.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He has changed so much in the past month.<br />
He loves to have fun with mommy and daddy.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iSYM9NKskY0/UnUpu7oGaGI/AAAAAAAABlg/i_1bWMV_EbA/s1600/Image+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iSYM9NKskY0/UnUpu7oGaGI/AAAAAAAABlg/i_1bWMV_EbA/s640/Image+3.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's hard to believe he is now closer to a year old than birth.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He has been eating a lot of </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
green beans, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
brocolli, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
cantelope, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
blueberries, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
prunes, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sweet potatoes, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he loves to chew on slices of bell peppers.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I gave him greek yogurt the other day and he wasn't thrilled.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think I'll try some plain yogurt soon.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jemzLWAqDn8/UnUpm9Ec-GI/AAAAAAAABk8/fhoBbfFNa0Y/s1600/Image+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jemzLWAqDn8/UnUpm9Ec-GI/AAAAAAAABk8/fhoBbfFNa0Y/s400/Image+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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He has also almost gotten the hang of a sippy cup.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UAnh2YzfI5Q/UnUpr8OTniI/AAAAAAAABlM/vCoQwbcK8iQ/s1600/Image+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UAnh2YzfI5Q/UnUpr8OTniI/AAAAAAAABlM/vCoQwbcK8iQ/s400/Image+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The biggest change this month is his sleeping.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We sort of went to drastic measures to intervene on his</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pretty terrible night sleeping habits.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cry it out.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(I know everyone has an opinion on this but we had pretty much exhausted all other methods)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was so scared to try it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But honestly I think I have shed more tears than Owen.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The first night (about two weeks ago) was the worst, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and it was nowhere near as bad as we thought it was going to be.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He has just realized, night time is for sleeping.<br />
Yes it's hard to hear your baby cry but ultimately, it is for his good.<br />
He needs to sleep. And he is learning sleep <i>is </i>good!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Since then, Jonny and I have been sleeping on the couches.<br />
No, not ideal-but hey,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it's dramatically changed the amount of sleep I've been able to get.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And it's incredible.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Before, a really GREAT night of sleep for me would have been 4-5 broken hours.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jonny and I are trying to go to bed by 10, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Owen lays down at 7PM<br />
is waking for one feeding (around 2-3AM)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and sleeping until around 7AM.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AM</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
NEW</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
WOMAN.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A woman who is about to turn 25.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What the heck?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can remember thinking</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
how incredibly old I will be when I turn 25.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Like, old.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yet, here I am. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Maybe I am old?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I don't feel I have the wisdom that comes with "old" age.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Though, I did get carded the other night on our date and the waitress said I looked 17.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I took it as a compliment.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Anyways...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Owen has been flashing his toothy grin all the time lately.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lfnmqJPyz-A/UnUpvFt6QyI/AAAAAAAABlk/QhUTyCKN_oE/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lfnmqJPyz-A/UnUpvFt6QyI/AAAAAAAABlk/QhUTyCKN_oE/s400/Image.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's adorable.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(I know, I'm biased being his mom and all but seriously, I get like heart flutters when I see it)<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XskPmh8B7qY/UnUpvX-uQ4I/AAAAAAAABlc/BkcORppksDU/s1600/988762_10202334243499783_1023181541_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XskPmh8B7qY/UnUpvX-uQ4I/AAAAAAAABlc/BkcORppksDU/s400/988762_10202334243499783_1023181541_n.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A couple weeks ago we took some family pictures with a friend of ours.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here are some,<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FiFkHNBuu9Y/UnUjoGQE2qI/AAAAAAAABkA/u_77ly33Ybc/s1600/0016734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FiFkHNBuu9Y/UnUjoGQE2qI/AAAAAAAABkA/u_77ly33Ybc/s640/0016734.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Check out our post and all of her photography<br />
<a href="http://schreinerhannah.blogspot.com/2013/10/atkinson-family.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #f6b26b;">over here</span></a>.<br />
We love all the pictures,<br />
mostly Owen's fun faces<br />
but my favorites I've saved for our Christmas cards<br />
so be looking for that in your mailbox next month!<br />
Yes, I've already ordered them.</div>
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Yes, Jonny and I just started reading<span style="color: #f6b26b;"> <a href="http://saintwhowouldbesanta.com/" target="_blank">this book</a></span>,<br />
<i>The Saint Who Would be Santa Clause:</i><br />
<i>The True Life and Trials of Nicholas of Myra</i></div>
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Yes, we're contemplating putting the tree up next weekend.</div>
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Yes, Christmas music is playing as I type.</div>
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Oh, well.</div>
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I remembered that this weekend, last year, </div>
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Jonny and I took a little trip.</div>
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<a href="http://enjoy-in.tumblr.com/post/59397001175" target="_blank"><span style="color: #f6b26b;">(via)</span></a></div>
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We had just found out we were having a boy.<br />
Read about that <span style="color: #f6b26b;"><a href="http://jonnyandjanaye.blogspot.com/2012/10/boy-or-girl.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
And took a relaxing weekend in the Great Smokey Mountains<br />
to celebrate the news (and my 24th birthday).<br />
<a href="http://jonnyandjanaye.blogspot.com/2012/11/hanging-out-in-great-smokey-mountains.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #f6b26b;">there's a post about it here.</span></a><br />
It was so much fun to go exploring with Jonny.<br />
Both on the way there and on the way back we<br />
thought about what to name our son.<br />
We could at least agree on some boy names we liked,<br />
not so for girl names<br />
Finally, nearing the end of our journey home we settled on<br />
Owen Alan Atkinson.<br />
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And now I'm watching that baby boy try to crawl.<br />
It is crazy the changes a year brings.<br />
We are very very fond of the changes.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-4168160765477951232013-10-22T07:11:00.001-07:002013-10-22T08:15:28.406-07:00surviving by grace<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="color: #666666;">I read this blog post today by Wendy Horger Alsup over at her blog, </span><a href="http://www.theologyforwomen.org/" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="color: orange;">Theology for Women</span></a><a href="http://www.theologyforwomen.org/" style="color: #666666; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">.</a><span style="color: #666666;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I just stumbled upon the post but it was so encouraging to me. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I really resonate with her "survival mode" thoughts. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">When we brought Owen home from the hospital my world flipped upside down. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Yes, some time has passed now (almost 7 months!), </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">but I would say even now I am </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">barely</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"> getting out of survival mode and in recent weeks </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I've been really hard on myself as I see other brand new moms </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">who seemingly have life with there newborn babies already figured out. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I think "What is wrong with me?", </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">"Why did I have such a hard time adjusting?", </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">"I'll never be able to have many kids, I can't even handle one!"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">But my thoughts have focused on myself and not my God who gives grace and strength!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">This is an excerpt from her post, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Give US Grace – parenting advice for moms of infants and toddlers</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="color: #666666;"> Read the whole post, </span><a href="http://www.theologyforwomen.org/2011/11/give-us-grace-parenting-advice-for-moms.html" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="color: orange;">H E R E</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I was at peace for the first few months with a newborn—I knew those first months would be dominated by feeding issues and trying to get my child on a schedule. But I didn't realize that the survival mode I was in in those early months would actually go on for years. I thought I should be progressing faster than I was. Part of my problem was that I had a number of friends with similarly aged daughters who communicated much faster with their mom than my boys did with me. The other problem was that my little ones did not take in a new environment by observation, but by exploration. I've noticed some little ones who hang back and observe in new environments. But my boys walked in a room, noticed a door, and start opening it and shutting it to figure out the hinges. How does that outlet work? What's a fire alarm? How does this thing I've never seen before taste? It was pure survival in our home for a good 4 years. Sure there was nurturing. There was training, correcting, and management. But the overarching theme of it all was simply SURVIVAL. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">As a mom finally out of that stage, I recognize the symptoms in my sisters in Christ right in the middle of it. Stress in our marriages. Stress in our friendships. And so much stress just in our heads and hearts. In light of all that, I have a few points of advice I wish someone had shared with me.</span></div>
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1) Preach the <a href="http://www.theologyforwomen.org/2011/01/gospel-defined-part-1.html" style="color: #73a313; text-decoration: none;">gospel</a> to yourself. You will not survive this stage without meditation on all God has said over you in Christ. Chances are your figure at this stage isn't going to help your identity. Your homemaking skills aren't going to help your identity. If you are relying on your external successes at this stage of life to give you meaning, you are sunk. But let this time, when you can not keep up a facade, reveal your true heart, and then turn to God in that desperation. He has a good plan for your life, and part of that good plan are these years of simple survival nurturing your young children.<br />
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2) READ YOUR BIBLE. I talked in <a href="http://www.theologyforwomen.org/2011/11/there-is-no-coasting-in-this-walk-of.html" style="color: #73a313; text-decoration: none;">my last post</a> about this. God promises supernatural strength through His Word, and you KNOW right now you need supernatural strength. You may only have 5 minutes (even if you have more time, you likely don't have the brain power to process more than that). The Psalms bring me so much comfort at stressful seasons of life, primarily because the majority of the Psalms were written during stressful seasons in the Psalmist's life. His cries to God echo mine in the stress of life, and God's answers to him always encourage me.<br />
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3) Don't let women at other stages of life pressure you with expectations of what you can accomplish at this stage. When your children are little, forget color coordinated meals. It's ok if there's laundry in the basket or your bathroom needs cleaning. If you have a choice between doing dishes and taking a nap, use paper plates and take the nap. Rest helps so much with the stress of life at this stage. You will be better able to nurture your children and keep them safe if you've had a nap.</blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Eventually, you'll emerge from this stage. Your children will start communicating with you. They will reach a point developmentally where you can start communicating the essence of gospel grace to them. But you'll never communicate it to them until you first get it for yourself. And the early years with infants and toddlers, as we are stripped of our abilities to do for ourselves what we once easily did, are a prime time for us to understand God's grace to us more deeply than we ever have before. </span></div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-89731257613236765302013-10-02T09:19:00.003-07:002013-10-02T09:19:48.310-07:00a sweet little Sequeira. (Newborn Photos)<br />
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Petra Hope Sequeira</div>
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Our dear friends Aubrey and Nishika welcomed this sweet bundle into the world </div>
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in the early hours of September 9th. </div>
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We are praising God who preserved Petra's life through pregnancy complications and rejoicing with the Sequeiras as the Lord has graciously grown their family!</div>
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Praise God from whom all blessing flow!</div>
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Thank you Aubrey and Nishika for letting me take pictures of this beautiful occasion.</div>
Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-87706056197593755252013-10-02T09:16:00.003-07:002013-10-02T09:16:39.294-07:00six months, too soon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tz4Vnk3gkNM/UkxEQWhm16I/AAAAAAAABiE/lvy_KSN7tpI/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tz4Vnk3gkNM/UkxEQWhm16I/AAAAAAAABiE/lvy_KSN7tpI/s640/Image.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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Here we are, </div>
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6 months and 1 week into our first child's life.</div>
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I kinda had a teeny-tiny breakdown the other day</div>
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as I realized all the newness of our first baby is over.</div>
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Like, the boy is about to crawl.</div>
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Well, maybe..we'll see.</div>
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In the past month, he has expanded his food repertoire</div>
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(avocados, bananas, sweet potatoes, peas, carrots, mandarin oranges)</div>
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and subsequently his belly.</div>
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Little man is chunking up.</div>
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He weighed 19.14 lbs,</div>
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measured 27.5 in.</div>
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Both of which put him in the 95th% for his age range.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBA9CUx-HeM/UkxEWhzBF8I/AAAAAAAABiU/MC_-uSWrz9w/s1600/Image+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBA9CUx-HeM/UkxEWhzBF8I/AAAAAAAABiU/MC_-uSWrz9w/s640/Image+1.jpg" width="494" /></a></div>
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His babbling vocabulary is also expanding.</div>
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Jonny has always loved being Owen's daddy, </div>
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but it's been really sweet recently, </div>
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watching the two of them interact now that Owen </div>
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is more aware and responsive.</div>
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He got a Safety 1st bouncy car thing and loves it.</div>
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Even when he's not in it, </div>
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if I say "Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy"</div>
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he smiles really big and propels up and down.</div>
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He is waking usually twice in the night to feed.</div>
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The last wake is around 4:30-5:00AM </div>
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and he would be ready to get the day started and party</div>
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but I do everything I can to keep that from happening.</div>
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I am continually thankful that despite Owen's </div>
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not so wonderful sleep habits, </div>
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he generally is a happy baby.</div>
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Granted for a little over a month we've been battling teeth coming in.</div>
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(bottom two are up and doctor said the top two are making their way)</div>
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But even still he's a bundle of joy!</div>
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And a picture of Owen with his cousins (2nd or 3rd) on a trip last month,</div>
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just for good measure.</div>
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I realize this blog has become pretty much a</div>
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monthly baby documentation.</div>
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But hey, I'm a mom, and this is my life.</div>
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...and I love it.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-49428669680557393502013-09-03T11:30:00.000-07:002013-09-03T11:30:09.888-07:00eliana & owen @ the park<div style="text-align: center;">
A few weeks ago my friend Nishika and I </div>
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took our little ones to the park and brought along my camera.</div>
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Jonny and I got a really nice camera for Christmas and</div>
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(to my shame) I haven't used it as often as I hoped, so far.</div>
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Eliana is adorable. She's at a great age to get sweet pictures, </div>
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and it doesn't hurt that she's just incredibly photogenic.</div>
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Owen on the other hand, </div>
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he drools, <i>a lot</i>.</div>
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The boy is teething, so rarely is there a picture these days, </div>
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where he is not gnawing on anything or drenching it with slobber.</div>
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At some point this month, Nishika will be having another beautiful baby girl!</div>
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We love the Sequeiras dearly and look forward to seeing the Lord grow their family.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-12043199312145075392013-09-03T07:30:00.004-07:002013-09-03T10:23:01.105-07:00Owen: 5 months<div style="text-align: center;">
Another month has flown by and Owen is now a 5 month old.</div>
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At his monthly check up he weighed</div>
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16.15 lbs (75th-85th percentile)</div>
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and was 26 inches long (95th percentile).</div>
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The doctor says its a good thing that he is</div>
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"thinning out" so that I don't have to carry a baby that looks </div>
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like Michelin man around.</div>
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We definitely have a tall baby on our hands.</div>
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Everyone had kept making comments like, "Oh he's at least 20 lbs"</div>
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So I honestly was expecting that.</div>
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I asked the doctor if it was normal that in 5 months he's only gained 5 lbs, </div>
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and this was his clever answer.</div>
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"Well you know, what's not normal is being born 11 pounds. </div>
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You have nothing to worry about"</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fIZMPox32rk/UiXjVF_EY-I/AAAAAAAABag/Bm51MoXfWYs/s1600/1187005_10201844403174081_1323639078_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fIZMPox32rk/UiXjVF_EY-I/AAAAAAAABag/Bm51MoXfWYs/s640/1187005_10201844403174081_1323639078_n.jpg" width="476" /></a></div>
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He looks not as thrilled in this picture as he has in the previous months.</div>
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Just the night before we discovered his first tooth had started to break through</div>
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the gums. It sure has given him a lot of trouble.</div>
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Our friend Hannah invited us over for a water party.</div>
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Since Owen loves baths I thought for sure he'd like this.</div>
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At first I wondered if he'd think it was too cold (like the ocean on vacation)</div>
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but he was all about it. He just sat there splashing without a care in the world.</div>
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Speaking of sitting up, he'd been doing it with help for a good while but probably a </div>
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week before that pool picture was taken he really got the hang of it and didn't much </div>
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need (or want us) to help. </div>
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He sits up loads these days.</div>
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We try to keep comfy things around him so that when he eventually</div>
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falls over, its a soft landing!</div>
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Another new thing this month is rugby. </div>
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Daddy is already promoting it for our little big guy!</div>
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This ball has gone everywhere with us, even to church.</div>
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As evidenced by the red around his eyes in the above picture,</div>
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the biggest issue this month was sleep.</div>
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Really, thats been the biggest issue every month of Owen's life</div>
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but this month was intense.</div>
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We went on a trip to Missouri for a family event</div>
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and it was clear he was soon ready to be done with the swaddle.</div>
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I was terrified.</div>
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Any time I had tried to get Owen to sleep without the swaddle,</div>
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no one slept.</div>
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But we had come to the point where he also refused the swaddle.</div>
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So as soon as we got back home we did away with the swaddle.</div>
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We have this sleep sack called a Zipadee Zip.</div>
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It's star-shaped, so it slightly restricts movement,</div>
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(only enough so he doesn't whack himself in the face)</div>
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but is still safe so that he is able to lift up on his arms and roll over if need be.</div>
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He has been sleeping from 8pm to about 6:30 am</div>
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with three or four night wakings.</div>
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I feed him two of those times, and when he is up for good.</div>
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I am thankful that the transition out of the swaddle</div>
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wasn't the end of the world like I thought it was going to be.</div>
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(there was one or two really bad nights)</div>
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but he seems to have gotten the hang of this sleeping unswaddled business.</div>
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His naps have also improved.</div>
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His morning nap has always been the best, but it is a good solid 2 hours now.</div>
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(which is AWESOME)</div>
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Afternoon naps still vary.</div>
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He goes down at about 1pm and 4pm for anywhere between 30 mins-1 hr 30 mins.</div>
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There was also a big change in his diet this month.</div>
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After talking with the doctor we decided we'd try out some rice cereal.</div>
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He loves it! And is such a champ at eating from the spoon.</div>
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It was literally like he'd been doing it all his life.</div>
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The only downside to rice cereal is pumping the breastmilk to mix it with.</div>
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That is a chore, but I will spare you of the details.</div>
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It's crazy to think we are now less than a month away from half a year of Owen!</div>
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We have loved every minute of it.</div>
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Even the hard, sleepless nights.</div>
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He is such a blessing.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-64102526218031774022013-08-14T09:22:00.002-07:002013-08-14T09:22:54.397-07:004 Months<div style="text-align: center;">
Owen turned 4 months old.</div>
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It is absolutely absurd how quickly time is passing!</div>
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Every morning when Owen wakes up, </div>
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we are convinced he has grown some overnight!</div>
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His fourth month was full of excitement.</div>
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He took his first trip to the zoo.</div>
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He didn't see a single animal though, </div>
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so it was basically just like any other walk to him.</div>
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He rolled from his belly to his back that same day...twice!</div>
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The next day, we drove for 12 hours to Virginia beach to vacation with Jonny's family.</div>
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Owen did pretty well in the car, only a couple crying fits that ended in naps,</div>
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but hey-if I was stuck in the same position</div>
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(bar a few pit stops)</div>
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for 12 hours, I'd probably cry too.</div>
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Owen wasn't the biggest fan of the beach. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The first two days we used a broken umbrella by digging its edge into the sand, to shield him from the sun. </div>
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But doing that also blocked the breeze which basically culminated into one very hot, very tired, fussy and frustrated baby. </div>
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After the second day, Jonny agreed to buying a beach umbrella and that made a great difference. </div>
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The next two days at the beach were much better. Owen was content enough to hang out with his</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
NaNa and PaPa while I got some time in the sea!</div>
</div>
<div>
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I learned how to boogie board with some help from my brother in law, </div>
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and we all got to enjoy being thrown about by the waves. </div>
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<br /></div>
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It was a good change of pace to get out of our normal routine. </div>
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We soaked up lots os sun and lots of time with Jonny since he is at work most days of the week. </div>
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</div>
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The way home was a crazy (but so misfortunate, it's funny) adventure.</div>
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To sum it all up,we got stuck in two hideous traffic jams,</div>
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during the second traffic jam Owen had his first ENORMOUS diaper blow out.</div>
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Which I only discovered because I tried (and failed thankfully) </div>
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to put his paci in his mouth without looking and missed, his paci grazed his cheek, </div>
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at that point I looked and to my horror saw poop on his face! </div>
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All I could do was gasp, </div>
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and Jonny just kept asking what was wrong and I just kept gasping.</div>
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So he sat in poop while we sat in traffic.</div>
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It was everywhere.</div>
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When we FINALLY got to an exit, </div>
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a torrential downfall of rain came which soaked us all to the bone.</div>
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Owen was screaming.</div>
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He was naked in a truck stop in Poca, West Virginia</div>
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(home of the Dots, get it?...Poca Dots)</div>
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the only thing that made this better was a chubby little girl</div>
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who came up to me while Owen was screaming with poop all over both of us and exclaimed, </div>
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"I like your baby"</div>
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She will never know how much that meant to me </div>
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as I was dodging stares from other women who told me with there eyes </div>
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that I was the worst mother...ever.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Oh, I've gotten sidetracked...</div>
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back to his four month update.</div>
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<br /></div>
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He went to his 4 month check-up two weeks late.</div>
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He weighed 16.15 oz and was 26 in long.</div>
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His head circumference is in the 75th percentile, </div>
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weight in the 85th percentile,</div>
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and length in the 95th.</div>
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The doctor says he has a good chance of being 6'3''</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and that he will be eating more food than me by age 10, </div>
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suggesting we should invest in a big fridge.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I talked to the Dr. about Owen's lack of sleep, and he wasn't concerned.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He thinks Owen might just be one of those babies who don't like to sleep,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and that would be right. He fights sleeping. He wants so badly to keep his eyes open. Always.</div>
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Everybody had made comments that he was surely 20 lbs by now.</div>
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So when I saw the scale read 16.15 oz, I was a little worried.</div>
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I asked the Dr., "Is it normal to have only gained 5 lbs since birth?"</div>
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to which he replied, </div>
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"Well ya know, what is NOT normal is being born 11 lbs. He is just fine."</div>
<br />
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Some of his favorite things this month were, </div>
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<br /></div>
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Baths (again).</div>
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<br /></div>
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Looking in a mirror.</div>
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He could be crying and very upset </div>
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but if you brought him in front of a mirror he would</div>
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give a big smile and even maybe a giggle.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My parents brought him lots of toys</div>
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that have been passed down.</div>
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He loved having new things to see and touch.</div>
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There is one toy in particular, </div>
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it's like a car dashboard and each gadget </div>
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sings or makes a noise.</div>
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The songs are about learning English and Spanish.</div>
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He loves it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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His toes.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We haven't listened to much Matt Redmond this month.</div>
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Except for a couple of desperate times on the road to and from VA Beach.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We got a new sound machine and it comes with a projector.</div>
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We discovered that we could leave him alone to look at the </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
images projected on the ceiling and he would</div>
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"oooh and aaah" at them.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Oh, baby boy. You just keep growing. </div>
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It makes me happy and sad at the same time.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-75975136921961040592013-07-08T10:45:00.000-07:002013-07-08T10:45:02.827-07:00welcome to slober city: 3 months<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
These first three months with Owen</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
have been both the most</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
trying and rewarding time in my life. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is such a joy, the sparkle in</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
his eye and the spunk in his smile</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
make me forget about all the</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
hard work that goes into motherhood.<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Some of Owen's favorite things in</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
his third month included:<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Shoving all the fingers of one hand</div>
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plus one or two of the other hand</div>
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into his mouth.</div>
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<br /></div>
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He still loves his baths.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But he used to hate when it was over.<br />
I think he was cold or something.<br />
But now, he doesn't cry about it, just sucks on his hand<br />
and everything is OK!<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The tune of ABC's</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and TwinkleTwinkle Little Star.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The Itsy Bitsy Spider rhyme.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Welcome to Slober City!"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I randomly said that one day as I was</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
wiping drool off his face,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he thought it was hilarious.</div>
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<br />
"Hi there!"<br />
Say this to him and you'd get a big grin.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This month he became pretty talkative.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It started one day in the swing. </div>
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We "cooed" back and forth to each other</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
for the longest time. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There's this balloon that came with flowers that some friends of mine </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
had delivered to the hospital when Owen was born.<br />
Jonny tied it to Owen's crib and surprisingly it still floats.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Every night after his bath and fresh diaper is put on,<br />
I pick him up from the changing table and he spots the balloon.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It must be the most interesting thing he has ever seen.<br />
His eyes get so big and he flails his arms around and<br />
purses his lips together to coo at the balloon. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's priceless.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He similarly is intrigued by his "Monkey Friend"as we call it.<br />
It's the mirror that hangs on the backseat of the car facing him.</div>
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He has conversations with it and grins at it for most of the car ride.</div>
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<br /></div>
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He also has really enjoyed standing up and being held by his hands.</div>
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He probably prefers this to being held most of the time. </div>
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Then he likes to lower into a sitting position, and then lay totally flat,</div>
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and then start all over again.</div>
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He pushes off with his feet when sitting, so that he's standing.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is really strong!<br />
<br />
We are reading one of two books with him every night at bedtime.<br />
Thoughts That Make Your Heart Sing<br />
(by Sally Lloyd Jones)<br />
on nights when Jonny works late so its just me an Owen.<br />
Or,<br />
The Big Picture Story Bible<br />
(by David Helm)<br />
when Daddy's home to read with us.<br />
Owen is fascinated with the pictures and watches eagerly.<br />
<br />
He aggressively chews his hand and anything else he can reach with his mouth.<br />
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He can be carried in the Moby without absolutely hating it.<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
He got his first vaccines and didn't even cry.<br />
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<br />
It really is crazy how much they change in so little time.<br />
We love our growing boy!<br />
<br /></div>
Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-39294366741686582222013-06-25T13:18:00.004-07:002013-06-25T13:46:59.653-07:00playing catch-up: 2 months<br />
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At two months old Owen was hanging out around 13-14 pounds.</div>
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He was in the 90th percentile for height and weight at his check-up,</div>
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and 75th percentile for head circumference.</div>
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He loved to stare at our eyes and really started expressing himself</div>
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with facial expressions.</div>
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His favorite room in the house was the bathroom</div>
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(because of the moon roof).</div>
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He continued to absolutely love taking baths and </div>
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the running water could calm him down in half a second if he was worked up.</div>
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He still loved to listen to Matt Redmond's song '10,000 Reasons',</div>
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it could put him to sleep in ten seconds flat and</div>
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he would know if you turned it off and start to make a sad face.</div>
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</div>
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A friend of ours gave us a bunch of sun hats for Owen that</div>
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her son could no longer wear and we pretty much fell in love with </div>
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this baseball cap on him.</div>
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He wears it everywhere.</div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, we put it on him even when he was just wearing a diaper.</div>
</div>
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We started working hard at tummy time. </div>
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He still wasn't a big fan, but we're making progress.</div>
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Just when we think he can't get any cuter, he proves wrong. </div>
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So very, very wrong.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-43181740165984223192013-06-20T13:57:00.000-07:002013-06-20T14:15:34.307-07:00mundane<div style="text-align: center;">
Just dropping in to say, </div>
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Owen pooped in the bathtub for the first time the other day.</div>
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And it was anything but g-l-a-m-o-r-ous.</div>
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My life is not glamorous.</div>
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In fact, my life as a new mommy is quiet mundane.</div>
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Don't get me wrong, </div>
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it's full of joyous moments and smiles and giggles.</div>
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I do love this job.</div>
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But when it comes right down to it, </div>
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I'm doing the same things over and over again.</div>
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Laundry. Dishes. Diapers. Nursing. Naptime. Dinner. Bathtime.</div>
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I painted my toenails last night and that's about as </div>
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adventurous as I've been in the last 12 weeks.</div>
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And I know I'm not the only one who sees how their life can be mundane, </div>
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whether you're a mommy or not.</div>
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I found <a href="http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2013/06/13/god-rules-the-mundane" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">this</span></b></a> article encouraging the other day.</div>
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I hope you can be encouraged by it as well.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-30388013239604882002013-06-18T11:51:00.001-07:002013-06-20T13:37:31.136-07:00the story of how we met you<br>
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This is the birth story of Owen Alan Atkinson, March 25, 2013. It has taken nearly three months for me to find the time to finish writing this. It's not perfect, there are a lot of details and many run on sentences. But the end of this story is our beautiful baby boy.</div>
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I can’t even start writing this without my eyes filling with tears. I know mommy’s can tend to be particularly emotional after birthing, but these tears are just tears of absolute joy and thankfulness. Thankful for a healthy baby boy, an amazing husband to lean on through the intense pain of bringing a child into the world, and most of all, thankful to the grace of our great God who gave peace and comfort to us through the whole process. I am overwhelmed with His goodness towards us in giving us this beautiful, healthy, precious baby boy. Owen Alan Atkinson, you are loved more than mommy and daddy’s hearts can contain, it is just spilling out of us, every day.</div>
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Because I am horribly forgetful, I want to be incredibly detailed so I can read this and be flooded with memories of the day and days leading to your birth. So here it goes.</div>
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On Saturday evening, March 23 things felt a little different but I didn’t pay much attention to it. I had been having serious Braxton Hicks contractions for well over a week. Jonny would constantly feel my belly and say, “Whoa it’s never been that hard! Feel that!” So, with those happening quite regularly, I wasn’t surprised by the crampy feeling that became more and more constant throughout the evening. These cramps felt pretty much like light menstrual cramps that didn’t go away. The funny thing is, I had been so wrapped up in wondering when he would come, until that day. In a whirlwind of events, we found out that we would likely be moving from the second floor apartment (where we’ve lived since being married, bar the first two months) to the first floor apartment in the same house. It is much bigger and we would even get our own washer and dryer inside it! That is all it took to get my mind off of going into labor. Jonny was at work that evening and I sat drawing out a floor plan of the apartment, thinking of where we would put furniture! It was a definite grace of God to distract me like that. Because we were planning on showing our apartment to possible renters the next day, I started cleaning which doubled as nesting…I just didn’t know it would need to be done so soon! </div>
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Jonny came home from work and did the dishes as he promised. I knew he was tired after a long day at work. He laid in bed but for some reason I sat in the rocking chair blabbing on and on about the first floor apartment. Jonny knows this, but I’m typically not too chatty at the end of a day. He normally gets a “fine” when he asks about my day. Well not this night, I felt like I had so much to tell him. Just another sign that I was <i>clearly</i> distracted from the signs of early labor, and another grace of God.</div>
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Sure enough, Jonny was right. At exactly four in the morning, I woke up with really painful cramps. I went to the bathroom and something made me turn the light on this time. Typically I just leave it off, the toilet is right by a window and the moonlight is usually enough to work with (and who likes light bulbs in the middle of the night?). Of course I had to pee, but afterwards I noticed a few drops of something that didn’t feel like pee. I looked and sure enough, it was blood. Jonny and I had educated ourselves well throughout pregnancy, though all women are different, I knew this was my “bloody show” another sign of early labor. I called Jonny into the bathroom and let him know. He encouraged me to lay down again, I tried, but the cramps, which were actually contractions by this stage, were incredibly uncomfortable to lay through. We sat with the lights off for another 30 minutes. During this time my stomach was growling really loudly, so Jonny was determined to make pancakes, whether I liked it or not…but I did like it. So 5:00 came and Jonny and I were just eating pancakes. We were taught to determine if the contractions you are experiencing are actually real labor to try eating, showering, drinking and walking. If the contractions stop with these activities, it is most likely not true labor. So I had eaten pancakes and was still having contractions. I then had to go to the bathroom. *Sorry if the following is too much, but like I said, wanting to be very detailed for my memory’s sake* Here I had a very loose bowel movement, which I knew was also a sign of early labor. If that was not enough to convince me this was the real thing, I also lost my mucus plug shortly after. At this point, we were both pretty sure we’d be meeting our baby boy soon. After all, it was just 5am Sunday morning, surely we would hold him before the night was over. With the excitement also came nervousness. I have a tendency to shake when I’m nervous, and shake I did. Jonny would look at me with this sweet face and try to calm my nerves with encouraging words, and that helped immensely. I decided to try the next test, a shower. This helped to calm me and stop the shaking, and though the contractions felt much better under the hot water, they by no means subsided. I stepped out of the shower knowing I was in labor. Something I hadn’t thought of too much throughout pregnancy. I read so many books, so many birth stories, we had been going to birthing class since the beginning of January, but finally being the one in labor, that was a surreal moment. I sat in the rocking chair next to our bed, drinking water and going through the motions of the contractions. Jonny lay in the bed sideways, with his hand holding mine. We knew we’d need to rest to get through the day. We sat in the dark with a candle flickering, just taking it contraction at a time. I never fell asleep but could relax between contractions, which was a relief. At 7am Jonny wanted to time the contractions for an hour to get an idea of where we were.</div>
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They were averaging to be no more than 4 minutes apart, lasting an average of 46 seconds long. This didn’t mean much, yes they were quite frequent but not lasting the typical 60 seconds you hear of, so we just waited. Around 8am, we called our parents who live 10 hours away, thinking surely things will have progressed nicely in 10 hours and they would arrive to meet their first grandbaby. The contractions continued at that same rate and intensity for quite sometime. Our friend, Nishika came over to support us and pray with me. She brought a rice sock that you heat in the microwave and put on your lower back to relieve pain. Jonny took a shower and Nishika and I walked around our tiny apartment to get the contractions to pick up. It had been raining since we were up at 4 but finally around 9 it was starting to let up. So Jonny and I got dressed in rain gear and headed outside to walk up and down our street (which is situated on a hill). The contractions came quicker and stronger as we walked, but when we would stop walking they would slow down again. I wonder what the neighbors thought of us, me and my huge belly holding on to Jonny every 45 seconds walking up and down the street, in the rain. I didn’t care in the slightest, just wanted to get things moving. Once we had enough of walking, we took Nishika home and came back to our place. Jonny kept trying to get me to snack on cantaloupe, which we had determined would be my labor snack, that and red Gatorade, but I’m pretty positive Jonny ate and drank most of it because I just wasn’t interested. The afternoon is sort of a blur to me. It really was just more of the same kind of contractions, the pain intensified but they never got longer or closer than two and a half minutes apart. We had called Ashton, our Bradley Method teacher for support and advice a couple times throughout the day. She offered to come over and by late afternoon we were starting to wonder when we should go to the hospital since clearly my contractions weren’t like we had read about in any book. Ashton came and sweetly encouraged us through several contractions. She gave suggestions about positions and told us if things kept up like they were, we should head to the hospital in an hour or so. Before leaving she suggested I sit in a warm bath, so Jonny starting filling the tub. In the bathtub, the contractions were not as painful. I loved sitting in there, it brought much needed relief from the pain. As usual, Jonny was concerned about what we would eat. He knew we would both need energy to finish this task so he asked me what I would like to eat. I really didn’t care but it needed to be delivery and I certainly did not want pizza. So Jonny ordered us Jimmy John’s sandwiches and we ate them around 7pm. After that I spent the next two hours on the birthing ball (an exercise ball) with Jonny behind me, rubbing my back and encouraging me to breathe through each contraction, which had become more painful and averaged 2 minutes apart. At 8:30 I decided I was ready to go to the hospital. Not sure what emotion took over, but I just remember crying to Jonny that I wanted to go. I had been laboring at home for nearly 17 hours, I wanted to move on, I wanted it to be over.</div>
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I cannot say enough about how encouraging my husband was, he never left my side unless I asked him to grab something for me. He was full of encouraging words and I knew he truly would take the pain for me if he could. I don’t know how women can go through something so intense without any support at all. I certainly could not have done it without him.</div>
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Knowing that my dilation would be checked once we got to the hospital was both exciting and nerve-racking. I did not want to be disappointed by little dilation so we planned to have the nurse tell Jonny and not me. Jonny would know how to break the news to me, whether good or bad. Driving to the hospital was surreal. I hadn’t thought much about the actual labor, because you can never know how that will go, but I did often think about driving to the hospital. It was a cold and wet night, we had always imagined we would drive to the hospital at night. Funny thinking of that now because when labor started at 4am, we thought we'd be driving during the day. On the way there, Jonny got a text from my mom saying they were at the hospital. I couldn’t help but laugh. My parents, who had driven for nearly 11 hours because of bad weather, made it to the hospital before we did. When we got there, Jonny and I couldn’t find labor triage and were wandering around until someone thought to offer some assistance! (Maybe we should have done the hospital tour after all!) Once we found triage I was immediately hooked up to the EFM and soon after checked for dilation. The nurse took Jonny outside the room to tell him the news. Jonny came back in smiling. I was dilated to 5cm and her words to him were “her cervix is really thin.” Five centimeters in 17 hours. We had learned that getting to 5cm took the longest time, so we were hopeful! We were taken to our room by our first nurse, Joyce. We had a corner room, usually reserved for those wishing to do natural childbirth. It was big and spacious, the lights were dim and there was a huge tub in the bathroom for hydrotherapy. The contractions certainly became more painful at the hospital. I was nervous again, and I’m sure that had something to do with it. Relaxation has never been something I’m great at, but the breathing techniques we learned in the Bradley class, once again proved helpful. Jonny could tell when a contraction was beginning because I would tense slightly, but he would quickly remind me to breathe. After coming to the hospital I lost all track of time, which was probably a good thing since we were in that room for another 18 hours. I remember hearing laboring on the toilet is sometimes helpful, that couldn’t be further from the truth in my case. Every time I sat on the toilet (which was often, because I still needed to pee frequently) the pain intensified, causing me to shake and get tense, consequently causing me to be on the toilet longer until I could relax enough to pee. Jonny and I walked around the labor floor to get things moving. The rooms of the other laboring mothers were completely dark and they were watching TV, I didn’t understand how they could be watching TV! Walking was most painful; my back was exhausted by this point and felt incredibly weak, like it might snap in two at any moment. When I had enough of walking, we would go in the room and labor on the ball or a chair. I did utilize the hydrotherapy tub, which was comforting, but I love hot water, and because of safety precautions, they aren’t allowed to have the water reach the kind of temperature I would have liked. The warm water just made me cold, and I shivered for a long while after I was out. Jonny frequently made runs to the ice machine. You are not allowed to eat or drink while in the hospital, for the rare chance you might throw up while under anesthesia, in case a cesarean is necessary. But you are allowed ice chips. And how I love ice chips! I was checked a few times between 9pm and 7:30am, each time I had dilated no more than a centimeter. After 24 hours of labor, we both found ourselves falling asleep between contractions. One of the doctors from my practice came in around 3:00am, she was impressed that I had been able to sleep between my contractions, but she must not have realized how long we’d been going at it. The same doctor came in at 7:30, with little progress since her last visit she suggested that my bag of water be broken. They had reason to believe the slow progression of dilation was because the Owen’s head wasn’t descending. Breaking the water is one way to speed things up. This was something I will never forget. The doctor broke my water and immediately I felt a huge release and heard the words, “we have dirty water.” Sure enough, our little guy had a bowel movement inside the womb and my water was stained with meconium. When this happens, babies are at risk for infection if they ingest it at delivery. To make this less likely, I received a catheter that ran water into my uterus to flush the stained water out with clear water. Now, this was where I was the most discouraged in the whole process. The same release I felt when the water was burst, continually happened for the next few hours. I was having to sit up, with gushes of dirty water pouring out, and pooling at my feet. The nurse was putting giant adult size diapers under me and they were soaked in seconds. All the while, having even more painful contractions as a result of my water being broke. This went on for what seemed like forever. This was the lowest point of the 36 hour labor. </div>
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An hour and half later at 9am, after 29 hours, our nurse sweetly came to us with some advice that was hard to hear. I had not dilated any more after my water had broke, and the doctor and her believed that if I wanted a real shot at a vaginal delivery I needed to consider labor augmentation with Pitocin. Those words cut like a knife. I knew with Pitocin would come a waterfall of interventions, the chief of those being an epidural. 41 weeks of thinking about the beauty of natural childbirth without being medicated met the reality of nearly 30 hours of labor. I was drained, very much so physically and since having the catheter, I was drained emotionally. I wanted so badly to continue without the pain medicine, but even more so did not want a cesarean. A whole flood of emotions came over me. Jonny was so strong. He responded to me with love. He wanted just as much as I did to get through it all without intervention. He pleaded with me to give it thirty more minutes, not to give up now, that pushing could be right around the corner. I loved how strong he was, but knew my body had been through enough and I couldn’t muster another ounce of energy. Now on top of being emotionally and physically drained, I was feeling disappointed. We had spent the last nine months preparing for natural childbirth and it was slipping away from me. I wrongly began to feel like I was letting Jonny down by feeling a need for the Pitocin/epidural. The decision was made and by 9:30am the anesthesiologist was in the room. Your husband has to leave when they give you the epidural; I hated that. Our sweet nurse held me by the shoulders as I sobbed. After it was over, the anesthesiologist said, “Oh sweetie, are you disappointed?” I couldn’t get any words out but nodded my head. She tried comforting me by telling me the stories of her two births, and how if she labored as long as I had been laboring she would without a doubt have the epidural. It neither encouraged nor discouraged me. My head was just buzzing from exhaustion.</div>
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They started the Pitocin drip and turned down the lights. The room was a completely different place. I now knew why all the other rooms were dark, only lit up by the TV; Everyone gets an epidural! Jonny came back with more ice chips, which helped to calm me down. Here I was with all these cords and contraptions on me. The epidural was starting to set in, and my body was starting to sink heavy into the hospital bed. Jonny laid down on the squeaky plastic couch and went right to sleep. For the next six hours I had Pitocin contractions to dilate the last two centimeters. I had a patient-controlled epidural, which allowed me to control the amount of medicine I was getting with a little button. I kept it at a level in which I was able to feel the contractions, but the pain had gone for the most part. I still felt pain in my upper abdomen with each contraction, just enough to make me uncomfortable. I didn’t sleep. I should have slept. But I don’t know what kept me awake. Anticipation perhaps? Afterall all, I should be having a baby soon! After such a long labor, I was beginning to wonder what the outcome would be. I know it sounds silly, but by this point it felt like it was never going to end. I know that sounds dramatic, but its how I really felt. The nurse came in and I took her by the hand and said, “Tell me, do you think I will have this baby today?” She laughed and said of course. She must have thought I was joking, but I was dead serious. I had lost all track of time, not knowing the time, let alone the day.</div>
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Our families came in to see us, it was the first time I had seen them since 9pm the night before. I have no idea what we talked about, but it was good to see their faces. Next thing I knew, the nurse came in and sent everyone out of the room to see how I had progressed. I honestly was expecting bad news, but instead she said, “Are you ready to have this baby?” I just sat there completely unfazed. I had convinced myself it was never actually going to happen.</div>
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This was it. It was time to push! Everything had been so slow up to this point, but here is where the action finally started. My doctor was on her way but still not at the hospital, so another doctor from the practice came in. I was prepped and the neonatal team was in the room getting ready for the delivery. Because there was a meconium stain in my water, Owen would have to be deep suctioned immediately after birth to prevent any infection from ingestion of the fluid.</div>
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I remember the doctor had the sweetest smile, which really calmed my nerves. She gave me instruction to push “like you have to go to the bathroom” for as long as I could, then take a quick breath and push some more. Jonny was there holding my hand and ready with a wet rag to put on my forehead. And with the next contraction I began to push. After two pushes the doctor was saying she could see Owen’s head. I knew the pushing stage could last anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours and if my labor was any indication, I was prepared to be doing this for 2 hours. But there was such anticipation in the voice of the doctor, and then she said, “Sweetie, I’ll be delivering your baby, Dr. Evans is not going to make it in time.” This gave me such hope! The end was in sight. With just a few more pushes Owen’s head was delivered and with the next he was completely out and everyone in the room was commenting on his size. It was 2:31 pm, the doctor raised him up and I was in disbelief. “Is this real?” “Did that really just happen?” From the look on Jonny’s face I could tell he was thinking the same thing. Since he needed to be deep suctioned, we were not able to delay cord clamping and Jonny cut the cord soon after Owen was delivered. He then followed him just a few feet away where they would suction and clean him. It really was one of those moments where I didn’t hear anything that was going on and everything looked as if it were moving in slow motion.</div>
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Then they put Owen on the scale, everyone was saying,“Oh he’s a ten pounder for sure!” But the number kept growing, until it stopped and everyone’s eyes got really big. But the number was in kgs so I had no idea what it meant. Jonny looked at me and said “11.1 lbs Janaye.” All I can say is, I am so glad I had no idea he was so big. The nurses kept hinting they thought he was a big baby during labor but the reality did not set in until he sat on that scale. He was measured at 21 inches long. About this time my doctor came in the room. The doctor who had delivered said, “This girl just pushed out an 11 pound baby in 25 minutes.” Owen was placed on my chest and I was in love. He was immediately lifting his head up and looking around. It was such a sweet moment, one I will never forget.</div>
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I ended up with a second degree tear, which is actually really good considering Owen’s size. The doctor told me she herself had second degree tears with her children who were 6 pounders. I had not wanted an episiotomy and the doctor knew that and did a wonderful job to avoid one, as well as additional tearing. After the doctor had finished with the stitches and everything was cleaned up, we were left alone as a family of three for the very first time. Jonny and I just stared at him. His tiny nose, beady eyes, the hairs on his ears, all of him. He latched on immediately, which was a relief; he’s been a good eater from the very beginning. After about 45 minutes, our family came in to meet the newest addition, Owen Alan Atkinson. Our precious gift.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-55852999826758736152013-06-10T17:03:00.000-07:002013-06-20T13:37:49.165-07:00tools not treasures.<br>
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In the last post I shared how I have been tempted to be </div>
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concerned with my outward appearance after the birth of Owen. </div>
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There are many things you will never fully realize </div>
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(even though people may tell you a million times) </div>
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until after your baby is born. </div>
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I thought I would go crazy if someone told me to </div>
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"Rest while you can!" one more time.</div>
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But boy were they right. </div>
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Because this morning I was on cloud nine rejoicing that I was able to sleep in until 6:30. </div>
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This was after Owen woke up at 12:20, 3:15, 4:00, and 5:00AM</div>
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The point of my saying that is not to have you feel sorry for me, </div>
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it's to let you know that those people <i>were</i> right! </div>
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And they were trying to do me a favor,</div>
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I should've gotten rest when I could.</div>
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Another thing people tell you when you're pregnant is</div>
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"Your body will never be the same."</div>
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I don't think I believed that either. </div>
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But I do now.</div>
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Recently I read a book by Rachel Jankovic called 'Loving the Little Years' </div>
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and I cannot recommend it enough for my fellow mommies.</div>
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I've read several blog posts of Rachel's via Desiring God and</div>
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have several friends who loved this book so I gave it a go. </div>
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The book is short, the chapters are only a few pages long,</div>
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but it is full of Godly insights into mothering. </div>
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She has an easygoing style of writing that I enjoy </div>
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and I find myself caught up in her stories. </div>
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Owen is just two months old so I cannot relate to a lot of the book just yet. </div>
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But there is one chapter that gripped my heart and it deals with outward appearance.</div>
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I can't sum it up it up in words that could make the same impact </div>
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that it had on me so I'm posting it below. </div>
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I don't know the legality of posting a quote this long on a blog </div>
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but I do know if you're pregnant, </div>
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hope to be pregnant, </div>
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or if you have any influence on a woman who will one day be pregnant, </div>
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it would benefit you to read this.</div>
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The following quote is an excerpt from </div>
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'Loving the Little Years' by Rachel Jankovic, in Chapter 12: Me Time</div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Motherhood is a demanding job. It is is so demanding and intrusive, in fact, that it takes over your body. It uses your body,oftentimes rather roughly. This can start to bother us. You may have some weight to lose, and you might start to resent that. You might have permanently damaged something during a pregnancy. You may have big scars, stretch marks, and loose skin that bothers you You might not have time to exercise the way you used to. All of these things can be seen as an offense against us--against our bodies...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">First of all, our bodies are tools, not treasures. You should not spend your days trying to preserve your body in its eighteen-year-old form. Let it be used. By the time you die, you want to have a very dinged and dinted body. Motherhood uses your body in the way that God designed it to be used. Those are the right kind of damages. There are of course ways to hurt your body that are outside of God's design for it and disobedient. But motherhood is what your stomach was made for--and any wear and tear that it shows is simply the sign of a well-used tool. We are not to treat our bodies like museum pieces. They were not given to us to preserve, the were given to us to use. So use it cheerfully, and maintain it cheerfully. When you are working hard to lose the baby weight (as you may need to), think of it as tool maintenance. You want to fix your body up in order to be able to use it some more. It might be used for more children, or it might be used to take care of the children you have. We should not be trying to fix it up to put it back on the shelf out of harm's way or to try to make ourselves look like nothing ever happened. Your body is a tool. Use it...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Scars and stretch marks and muffin tops are all part of your kingdom work. One of the greatest testimonies Christian women can have in our world today is the testimony of joyfully giving your body to another. While so many women choose to not have children or abort the children that they were given, the testimony of women who know the cost and joyfully pay it is profound. So make sure that you aren't buying into the world's propaganda. While there are a great many rewards, the sacrifice is very real. The reason so many women don't want to do it is because it is very hard and has very real costs. But the answer to these obstacles is not to run away in fear as the world does, but to meet it with joy, and in faith."</span></div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-2870739950487914112013-06-05T16:40:00.001-07:002013-06-20T13:37:57.643-07:00no time for cornbread<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Or time for anything much at all really.</div>
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Owen is ten weeks old and while things have certainly gotten easier, </div>
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I'm still learning how to manage my time well.</div>
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You see, I've been calling Owen 'king of the cat nap' </div>
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because its rare for him to take a nap more than 20 minutes. </div>
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This makes things a little tricky.</div>
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Dinners need to be made.</div>
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Dishes need to be done.</div>
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Diapers need to be washed.</div>
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And those aren't even the essentials, </div>
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I need to eat (nursing really depletes your caloric intake!)</div>
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I really should shower.</div>
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And this momma needs to sleep since </div>
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(though he's getting better) </div>
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Owen also wakes up 3-4 times a night. </div>
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Now before you think I'm complaining, know this, I wouldn't trade this job for the world! I'd take the sleep deprivation, the messy house, the dirty diapers, the days without showers, the ever growing piles of laundry, the growling belly because I haven't had time to eat over anything you could offer me. </div>
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Why?</div>
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Because this is my lot.</div>
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This is the tiny human God has given me to lay my life down for. And it is only by God's grace I am even able to do so!</div>
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I like to put tasty meals on the table for Jonny.</div>
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If there's one thing I despise it's a kitchen counter cluttered with stacks of dirty dishes.</div>
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And I don't know anyone who can say that it makes their day wiping the poo off a baby bum, no matter how adorable said baby bum is!</div>
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A rumbling tummy never feels good.</div>
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Without a shower, I just feel gross. </div>
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And let's face it, I don't look too good or smell too pretty either. </div>
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Then there's some really shallow things my flesh desires, like...</div>
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Wanting to get a tan because its summer.</div>
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Wanting to workout because, well, I just had a baby and we're going to the beach next month.</div>
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New clothes that cover up this post-preggo body a little better.</div>
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Just being honest here!</div>
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<br /></div>
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But God has given me much grace! </div>
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I don't know exactly when, but several years ago God saved me. </div>
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What does it mean to be saved? </div>
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By saying 'saved' it must mean I was headed in a dangerous direction.</div>
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I lived to glorify <i>myself</i>, to fulfill <i>my</i> desires. </div>
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I did so and saw no problem with it. </div>
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BUT God, intervened! </div>
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He showed me the sinfulness of my selfish pursuits and gave me truly amazing grace! </div>
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This grace has given me the power to live for the glory of Him who saved me!</div>
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<br /></div>
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So are you wondering what the connection is between my</div>
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'no time for dirty dishes, dinner, laundry and showering' rant is? </div>
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I am freed from living for myself because Christ died!</div>
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And as for those <i>really</i> shallow desires of my flesh,<br />
I have been given the word of God to fight the temptation to long for the things of this world,<br />
and to fix my eyes on Jesus!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I know, you thought this post was about cornbread and now you're like "Umm, what?"</div>
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I've just being sitting here in a rocking chair </div>
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feeding and rocking this precious baby boy since 5:13, it is now 7:25 </div>
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(my backside is starting to go numb). </div>
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I sat down thinking about the cornbread that would really be nice to go with our dinner </div>
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and the dishes that need to go in the dishwasher</div>
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but God has given me much grace<br />
and I am able to reframe my thinking.</div>
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When Owen takes over an hour to feed, then refuses to nap in his crib</div>
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I have the means to count it all joy! </div>
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I have <i>this</i> opportunity to lay down my life!</div>
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This is my lot and I am thankful.<br />
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<br /></div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-85077016070041525502013-05-22T20:05:00.002-07:002013-06-20T13:38:04.623-07:00the second year.<div style="text-align: center;">
Monday was our 2nd wedding anniversary.</div>
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Year two was different than year one, but every bit as wonderful.</div>
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Here's a recap.</div>
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We went to Tulsa for a beautiful wedding, </div>
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found out we were expecting a baby, </div>
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went to Northern Ireland for two weeks for another beautiful wedding, </div>
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went camping at an awesome swimming hole, </div>
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went to the lake with family for Labor day, </div>
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told our family we were having a baby,</div>
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found out that our little baby was a boy, </div>
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went to the Great Smokey Mountains, </div>
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put our Christmas tree up on November 6th, </div>
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I turned 24,</div>
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traveled to our Missouri/Arkansas for Thanksgiving, </div>
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traveled to Missouri/Arkansas for Christmas, </div>
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had two sweet baby showers, </div>
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attended birthing classes, </div>
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documented a BIG baby belly, </div>
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made lots of smoothies, </div>
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went for plenty of walks, </div>
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Jonny started a new job,</div>
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Janaye stopped working,</div>
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we brought the sweet baby boy into the world on March 25, </div>
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moved into a new apartment, </div>
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Jonny turned 26.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Monday we went for a long walk and took some family pictures. </div>
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In the evening Jonny and I went on a date, without Owen! </div>
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It was our first time to be alone together in the eight weeks since Owen was born. </div>
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It felt so weird to not have my baby in my arms or even in the same room. </div>
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It was just what we needed, a yummy meal of sushi and then a slice of cheesecake.</div>
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The best part, of course was my date!</div>
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I felt like it was the summer of 2009 and Jonny and I were so young and so so in love!</div>
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Of course, we still are both of those things, but it was like it was happening all over again.</div>
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I have loved being married to this man.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-du0kEhwR_90/UZ2FdSI_LaI/AAAAAAAABSI/InKGhUegyCo/s1600/admire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-du0kEhwR_90/UZ2FdSI_LaI/AAAAAAAABSI/InKGhUegyCo/s400/admire.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t7OhKvHew7A/UZ2FdK-ITNI/AAAAAAAABSE/cyPC0JoCcts/s1600/1+year.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t7OhKvHew7A/UZ2FdK-ITNI/AAAAAAAABSE/cyPC0JoCcts/s400/1+year.jpg" width="316" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eAap2ZYE5tI/UZ2G4bsy2kI/AAAAAAAABSc/FlPdBVnn9zk/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eAap2ZYE5tI/UZ2G4bsy2kI/AAAAAAAABSc/FlPdBVnn9zk/s400/Image.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://jonnyandjanaye.blogspot.com/2012/05/first-year.html" target="_blank"><b>Click here to read the post from our first anniversary. </b></a></div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-52200533189012859722013-05-02T16:05:00.000-07:002013-06-20T13:38:10.361-07:00one month outtakes: the cuteness never ends<div style="text-align: center;">
So I realize I still haven't posted Owen's birth story and he is over a month old.</div>
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36 hours okay! That's a looooong story to write.</div>
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Between nursing and putting our new apartment together, </div>
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the story just hasn't made the cut.</div>
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But I will get to it.</div>
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I bought a baby book for him today.</div>
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Can't wait to start filling it out with Jonny.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I was taking weekly pictures of Owen, </div>
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but now that he's over a month, I'll just take monthly pictures.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I used this one for his one month picture</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dXWey4DOn2Q/UYLwPkMb0gI/AAAAAAAABRA/kcbQycPgzmg/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dXWey4DOn2Q/UYLwPkMb0gI/AAAAAAAABRA/kcbQycPgzmg/s640/2.jpg" width="470" /></a></div>
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But the outtakes were pretty adorable as well, see for yourself!</div>
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Here we see grumpy Owen.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BhJ0pbEt0s/UYLwPiqWeDI/AAAAAAAABRI/YCNpYKBcTng/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BhJ0pbEt0s/UYLwPiqWeDI/AAAAAAAABRI/YCNpYKBcTng/s640/3.jpg" width="456" /></a></div>
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Then contented Owen.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yJtfDharScs/UYLwRfN6YQI/AAAAAAAABRU/4sPqRBdojYE/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yJtfDharScs/UYLwRfN6YQI/AAAAAAAABRU/4sPqRBdojYE/s640/4.jpg" width="476" /></a></div>
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Then, "Oops I fell over, so I'll do a belly laugh" Owen</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KlPDtUG_4eY/UYLwPUZ7YKI/AAAAAAAABRE/eKHYz03p_eY/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KlPDtUG_4eY/UYLwPUZ7YKI/AAAAAAAABRE/eKHYz03p_eY/s640/1.jpg" width="474" /></a></div>
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He is a precious, so so precious.</div>
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Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6639813731707110917.post-51775606294596224452013-04-08T11:14:00.000-07:002013-06-20T13:38:24.902-07:00a sweet baby boy<div style="text-align: center;">
On Monday, March 25th we welcomed the sweetest little boy into our arms.</div>
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Owen Alan Atkinson.</div>
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Born at 2:31pm, </div>
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weighing 11.1oz</div>
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and 21in long.</div>
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We love every bit of him.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x9l8xrkLPOw/UWMHaHaE0ZI/AAAAAAAABQk/x2eoVCZuLPQ/s1600/owen-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x9l8xrkLPOw/UWMHaHaE0ZI/AAAAAAAABQk/x2eoVCZuLPQ/s640/owen-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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He is already two weeks old today. </div>
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It's crazy how the last two weeks I was pregnant seemed to never end, </div>
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and now here we are-two weeks with our little boy, </div>
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they've gone by so quickly!</div>
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We are absolutely in love.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm working on writing the long story of how we met Owen.</div>
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Labor was 36 hours total- the most intense experience of my life, </div>
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and I'm sure Jonny's too.</div>
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But I would do it a thousand times over if I had to.</div>
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He is such a joy.</div>
Janayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077353194603241617noreply@blogger.com1