tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41860713773102203392024-02-07T11:23:28.272-06:00RunNerdMom Run...because life is a crazy multi-variable systemRiyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-77023839451654005642015-08-17T11:59:00.002-05:002015-08-17T11:59:21.315-05:00Punctuated Equilibrium, Changes and Almost a YearI was a biology major. In college I was introduced to the concept of punctuated equilibrium, and it has stuck with me. Punctuated equilibrium and gradualism are both part of the evolutionary theory. Gradualism suggests that change occurred slowly over time. Punctuated equilibrium disagrees suggesting that the fossil record doesn't support gradualism. Rather, huge changes happened all at once and then everything settled down for a while.<br />
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I never taught biology after student teaching so may not have the theory exactly correct after all these years. Forgive me, but our lives have gone through some punctuation this year, and I could use a little equilibrium. I feel like the ground rumbled under my feet and a new landscape emerged. Because it did.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDMorLCbXAwnyscHGIqsoEkCQszOHzV4lX7NekTq-GUpY7DW-fWcRk6FfOZcA6HfwZ5mQ6_jUJnh8JKxfVynDF6TfVGFruveYNyYmznHEl3cUQSae_TJvpQ5Pa_LFqTv1CteZi14drmoE/s1600/IMG_0463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDMorLCbXAwnyscHGIqsoEkCQszOHzV4lX7NekTq-GUpY7DW-fWcRk6FfOZcA6HfwZ5mQ6_jUJnh8JKxfVynDF6TfVGFruveYNyYmznHEl3cUQSae_TJvpQ5Pa_LFqTv1CteZi14drmoE/s320/IMG_0463.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We planted this tree when we moved in 11 years ago.<br />It had a V but one part was broken in a storm. It's grown.</td></tr>
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When I was in graduate school, I had a friend in a counseling program who was taking a class on change. A whole class. And he had books all about change: the nature of change, helping people with change and the effects of change. It seems many people have trouble finding the equilibrium or the "new normal." I'm not alone. Personally, I know I suck (I mean "grieve badly") at goodbyes especially when I don't know what lies ahead.<br />
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Let's recap. In the past year, one of our dogs passed away, we went to China to pick up my son, and we moved. All the while still doing the regular parts of life, like homeschooling, teaching and taking classes. There were doctors' appointments all over the county. Buying a house and selling a house. Packing all of our stuff and then unpacking (not really yet) all of our stuff. Doing homework until midnight. Grading and instructing. And we went back in time to diapers, nap time and strollers. Add in language acquisition, sleep issues and toddler tantrums. Leaving our home and neighborhood of 11 years. Settling into a new neighborhood. Travelling too. Rumble. Rumble.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJdxuSJ3uxMqC6ymDGJya15LyJ784rUb9qDlh7WoHZykN_wRFDgvWKgn23lLK4OZv8Vvbqfmn61B1s9rS-d4DaY3d3-aEPHHx2olqdRnMwsqRRbHaTIrmS_KtKvagCVhA2dPz7NhKP08n/s1600/IMG_0478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJdxuSJ3uxMqC6ymDGJya15LyJ784rUb9qDlh7WoHZykN_wRFDgvWKgn23lLK4OZv8Vvbqfmn61B1s9rS-d4DaY3d3-aEPHHx2olqdRnMwsqRRbHaTIrmS_KtKvagCVhA2dPz7NhKP08n/s320/IMG_0478.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last time on the swing set</td></tr>
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I've put on some weight. Actually, my son and I are pound for pound. His is catch up weight. Mine, not so much. It may be stress related. Last year at this time we were scrambling for flights and getting our ducks in a row to go. It's hard to believe it has almost been a year. It's been hard, but the good hard that stretches and grows you. Patience and perseverance isn't learned on the sofa with a bag of chips. I wish. My son has come so far. A friend was listening to him talk yesterday and understood him. Huge deal. His most used phrase is "I got it" because he thinks he can do everything himself. Everything. Two year old boy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everybody is tired. </td></tr>
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I am thankful that I can run again this year. Running with people like Bobbi, Kate, Carrie, Emily and Julie has been a saving grace. My ankle gets cranky, and I listen. I've already run two half marathons this season, Wisconsin and Grandma's. They are both great races, and I had good races. Win. Win. I did the Esprit de She Naperville Tri as well. I love that tri. It's fun and fancy. It was also my first time in the water at the race as well as the longest bike of the year. I'm training for the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon in Oct and finished the first of the really long runs this past weekend. I'm not as strong as I'd like to be, but things are different. And that's okay.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miles, smiles and sole sisters.</td></tr>
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School is starting. My husband is back. My classes to take start today. Half my brood are going to school this year, and they are starting the same time my classes to teach start. We are keeping it classy. We will be a mixed family: homeschool and public school. I hope both sides are kind as we ride the fence. They can get pretty polar. I think it is what is best for us right now.<br />
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Anyway, this is long. Sometimes bloggers talk about little changes in their lives day by day or week by week. This year I couldn't do it. I didn't have the time, and I didn't have it in me. I hope to get back to a balance where I am posting more often. If I don't, life is still in flux and the landscape is still changing. Did I mention we also started potty training today?Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-57957027926526239102015-01-09T16:53:00.001-06:002015-01-09T19:13:08.910-06:00I Remember Her CandorI had a flashback after getting some news the other day. I thought about my mom.<br />
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I'm at a very sensitive time of my life remembering my mom. My girlios are in and around the age when she was sick and when she died. I marvel at the situation from the other side, as the mother, a healthy mother, with daughters. I have long forgiven my mind for having only a few memories. It was a hard time, and I was young. I had guilt for some time as I developed emotionally and cast my maturer emotions on old memories expecting more of myself at a young age. Watching my girlios at this age and seeing their priorities next to mine, I release myself all the more and let my childhood be a childhood. Feelings are more memorable than details.<br />
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I don't remember a lot about my mom. I remember her hands and the smell of Oil of Olay. I remember her and I fighting. I was a feisty child. I come from stubborn stock, and I have passed it on. I remember her making clothes for us on her Singer sewing machine. Her craft room was full of projects. She crocheted dolls and doll clothes. I remember her telling me that she learned to knit using spokes from a bike, I remember her undoing a sweater she made to make another one. It hangs in my closet. She sewed, crocheted, knitted, and drew. She walked me to school across the street the long way around the corner. On Valentine's Day she made me a Valentine's pillow and left it on my bed so I would wake up to it. I didn't notice it until she pointed it out.<br />
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I remember her being sick and bedridden. I remember the wigs that she wore out and her bald head after chemo. She looked good in a bandanna. I remember her last day at our house. My memories are few and scattered.<br />
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The memory that came back the other day was a conversation that she had with me and my brother. The conversation. She sat with us in our sun room to tell us that she only had a short time to live. She was honest about her condition, her illness and her prognosis. By that time she had been battling cancer for a long time. I absorbed it as much as my young mind could. She was very candid.<br />
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I count that conversation as part of her legacy. I admire her strength. Remembering it brings me to tears. As a mom now, I cherish that memory even more. That had to be heartbreaking conversation for her, especially to children who could not full understand. Being honest and straightforward with my children is something I strive to do. Sometimes it's hard. I hope to not have the conversation with my children my mom had anytime soon, but I do hope they appreciate the honest conversations we do have. I did. I do.Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-5447664133911459252015-01-06T23:11:00.000-06:002015-01-07T09:06:52.293-06:00Recap of 2014 and Ready for 2015Let's take a look at last year. After finishing the Naperville Marathon in November 2013, my right foot started hurting on runs. It got to the point where I actually went to the doctor in January, where my car also died on a major road on the way home, and it was -20 degrees out. Sweet. The doctor gave me the okay to run the Frozen Gnome 10k but I chose a DNS (Did Not Start) as my foot HURT. The doctor sent me to the podiatrist who made me snazzy orthotics, told me my calves were too tight and sent me to the physical therapist. I went through PT for months starting with picking up marbles with my toes which KILLED. I had neglected so many of my small muscles and tendons, and they were upset about it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMeJeYlnggnoCpdlFxONVom7GLyjlOlyZ-PTY2J5dmd-3q5ZMq7W0tGaYj2EedJ000JK9dEo3FHtPVRYvIGpz6vNUE3-FZBIxC3vYQQBYZcCE_DrO9idaJwPT3NGAj6K5A13AYmtXUJwxU/s1600/WP_001679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMeJeYlnggnoCpdlFxONVom7GLyjlOlyZ-PTY2J5dmd-3q5ZMq7W0tGaYj2EedJ000JK9dEo3FHtPVRYvIGpz6vNUE3-FZBIxC3vYQQBYZcCE_DrO9idaJwPT3NGAj6K5A13AYmtXUJwxU/s1600/WP_001679.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2 out of 3 DNS shirts. I think I may have thrown the other one out. Sad.</td></tr>
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Meanwhile, we were matched with a beautiful boy from China who was younger than the ages included in our home study. So we filed an amendment on our home study to include his age and waited for the state to get its paperwork back. And we waited. And we waited. And I fretted. And we waited. China got our stuff together, and we still waited for the paperwork from the state.<br />
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My poor PT, who was fabulous, heard all about it, but he didn't hear about when the paperwork came. He said running the Wisconsin Half Marathon was not a good idea. Another DNS. I would show you a picture of that shirt, but I can't even find it. I did find the $20 deferment from last year. I'm already signed up for this year. He said I could do a Fall half marathon if I was very very careful in my training. I was doing ankle, core and hip exercises regularly. Basically, he said the whole body needed to be strengthened. My calves were tight and doing all the work.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz31AUssGzfsTPx6DvuzyxblBwGnntfiPZNM8DPEu5MLYCPwOlPou8zK9en2ThBCIY6CsXUnDyEI7-b0E1Jx30T53fTSkYCihVInFID-duQNNKk9ZV0KJKH6KmOdTeTnSJAdBZRTmCVwlc/s1600/WP_001680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz31AUssGzfsTPx6DvuzyxblBwGnntfiPZNM8DPEu5MLYCPwOlPou8zK9en2ThBCIY6CsXUnDyEI7-b0E1Jx30T53fTSkYCihVInFID-duQNNKk9ZV0KJKH6KmOdTeTnSJAdBZRTmCVwlc/s1600/WP_001680.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love that they do this if you can't run. Love it.</td></tr>
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I did do the <a href="http://bit.ly/NAPERVILLETRI">Esprit De She Naperville Triathlon</a> again as an ambassador. I love that race. It's a full body exercise, and EDS puts on a great all women event. As slow of a runner as I am, I feel great running and actually passing people in the run. Nobody sees me crying in the swim. I'm an ambassador again this year on June 14. If you sign up too use code <b>EDS033</b> to use me as a reference.<br />
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I also ran the Antioch Run for Freedom 5k. My parents and family friends run it too. My dad didn't medal this year because there were 4 men in the over 70 category and he was the 4th.<br />
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In other areas, I taught some lovely hard working students this year. I finished my first class in my MSM program, and my head spun. I love math, and I find it so interesting, but I can also feel inadequate. Getting over myself is a full time job.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMEdw0rxrkXwPPSFHhdglj36uYRMY4V8fZzM8h3h-QNIQuMk2NJ2EUVsVsF4U6RaZ4p5AI4snyutFUz3H5BTaNJ9_2QfgEBtjjy7wsNksBsIX9uO9DVsBeSDtISRzcEzQLTibSnvQOvhL/s1600/WP_001678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMEdw0rxrkXwPPSFHhdglj36uYRMY4V8fZzM8h3h-QNIQuMk2NJ2EUVsVsF4U6RaZ4p5AI4snyutFUz3H5BTaNJ9_2QfgEBtjjy7wsNksBsIX9uO9DVsBeSDtISRzcEzQLTibSnvQOvhL/s1600/WP_001678.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No running medals this year, but cute shirts. </td></tr>
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In July, I said goodbye to my Seamus dog. Great sadness. In August, our paperwork got speed routed, and we had 13 days to get our act together to travel. THIRTEEN DAYS. I freaked out like it was my job. I ran 8 miles with Bobbi as my longest run of the year before heading out to China. To read more about our adoption read the current 5 part series <a href="http://runnerdmomrun.blogspot.com/2014/10/my-name-is-mom-and-i-have-jet-lag.html">here</a>. God was so good to us. He is still good to us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVZ68KDnjLNLPRXqn2d80swfMP94dYxr9LD3P9t7KFsL0rYxHo2Sm8bbtvVKERqJjBtr07dlXiaejFXJEMX51az7IuCvskuVbqgq4GlBARDHE0NACrs53A_QrlNbOKEfvuOlKWZX9xA67/s1600/WP_001261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVZ68KDnjLNLPRXqn2d80swfMP94dYxr9LD3P9t7KFsL0rYxHo2Sm8bbtvVKERqJjBtr07dlXiaejFXJEMX51az7IuCvskuVbqgq4GlBARDHE0NACrs53A_QrlNbOKEfvuOlKWZX9xA67/s1600/WP_001261.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Seamus dog</td></tr>
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After coming home I decided to take another DNS for the Prairie State Half Marathon. Do you see a trend here? DNSs are sad. Don't get me wrong. I am glad I can still run, and that I am being body wise, but I still grieve the DNS. This year I stopped recording my miles on Dailymile. I even forgot my password. A hard fitness year. Let's call it a rebuilding year, because it was.<br />
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In an effort to keep my sanity, my fitness and my run, I joined my local <a href="http://jcls.jazzercise.com/facility/round-lake-sports-center">Jazzercise</a>. I love it, and my whole body loves it too. I'm stronger, and I know my weaknesses. And it's fun. My elder girlios come too - <i>voluntarily</i>. After a few weeks of Jazzercise, I ran the Kenosha Mayor Turkey Day 10k. I didn't come in last, and my foot didn't hurt. I win. As it has gotten colder, it has been fun to workout inside. I have to tell you that the people in class are inspirational. All different shapes, sizes, and levels of fitness doing something positive for their health. That's<i> so</i> good. The instructors are fabulous too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHPBq7oFaFmBIpM4lhqBLmeqg4Sqd8ynKmPFGD-meFzD8o9PSUmDEUYJTGWrvZYOPFrJSFvidrp4Oe0l2rudeYdfcYDWbEETGXpEnYv7Z9mXbVlSYSjZFM2L4I_ofUYpCw1CtuNdZib1T8/s1600/WP_001667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHPBq7oFaFmBIpM4lhqBLmeqg4Sqd8ynKmPFGD-meFzD8o9PSUmDEUYJTGWrvZYOPFrJSFvidrp4Oe0l2rudeYdfcYDWbEETGXpEnYv7Z9mXbVlSYSjZFM2L4I_ofUYpCw1CtuNdZib1T8/s1600/WP_001667.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melanie teaches, encourages and makes Jazzercise look easy. <br />
My sweaty self says, "It's not."</td></tr>
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So there. What do I expect from this year? I resolve to thrive. That's my word for the year. I've seen it in my son. I want to see it in me. I may not run a marathon this year, but I want to feel strong. To make choices and create habits that encourage development. I'd rather not break anything again. I want to be strong mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. To grow vigorously and flourish. To THRIVE.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjHl836UZGsgLMWf-Hez09PP4f-Bkwid0oc12zWQ8Oe_gVgD7TY4dVcx3hcAHQiM_tlMaK-_wznLjCoZyh0eB3FRh7QIfXFEgIx_qkXrW_vy2-k0GCkBKP8KRlWY0o6BNGeLmNhLbOtUy/s1600/WP_001674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjHl836UZGsgLMWf-Hez09PP4f-Bkwid0oc12zWQ8Oe_gVgD7TY4dVcx3hcAHQiM_tlMaK-_wznLjCoZyh0eB3FRh7QIfXFEgIx_qkXrW_vy2-k0GCkBKP8KRlWY0o6BNGeLmNhLbOtUy/s1600/WP_001674.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thriving, like this guy.</td></tr>
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See what I did there. I didn't make any measurable yearlong goals. Nope. Little goals. Little successes. A year full of wins.Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-34420181444283880732014-12-16T22:41:00.001-06:002014-12-16T22:41:52.006-06:00There Were Blues [Adoption Series Pt 5]I love shopping at Goodwill, and I enjoy trolling the book section. As we were in the process, I repeatedly saw the book "Post Adoption Blues" on the shelf. I saw it over a period of months before it was finally bought. I never picked it up; I ignored it. From our adoption training and the presence of a whole book about it, I knew the blues was a definite possibility.<br />
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I feel stress all around my body but it is most often manifested in my face, particularly my chin. Depression I feel in my arms. I learned that many many years ago when breaking off an engagement. At that time I felt so manipulated and that I lost so much: trust, friends, and some self-respect. My arms ached for about a month.<br />
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Coming home with our son was such an adjustment. My in-laws were with us for a week, and shortly after they left my husband went back to work to a packed week. Settling in to a schedule was tumultuous. Let me be very clear, our son is adjusting really really well, almost picture perfect, but that doesn't mean it hasn't been difficult.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toddler says, "Everything is mine and I will put it wherever I want."</td></tr>
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I can say having my son has been harder than having my bio girlios. That seems reasonable. There are language and culture barriers. Time zones, nap times, feedings and diapers again. Instead of a tiny baby that sleeps most of the day, I have a rapidly developing heavy toddler. But there were things I didn't think of and things that were more taxing than I expected. Adopting a child is like birthing a baby, but it is definitely different. I was surprised and hurt that our workplaces didn't acknowledge our adoption like a birth. I apologize to all the adoptive parents I know that I didn't come alongside, and I thank all the ones that have encouraged me through this first few months because they know. So many said, "Stay strong; this is the hardest part." when we got back, and it was so encouraging. I am so thankful for Cara for setting up a meal plan and for all the families that brought us meals. We never had that with the girlios, but I can not adequately convey my gratitude. I...was...overwhelmed. I am thankful for Jennifer for clothing my son across the world and back, and for Kelly and Nadege for clothing him for the next year. We had so many offers of help. Even with all the support, it was hard.<br />
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One of the things that I didn't expect to be so hard was the 24/7 attachment process. I mentally knew it, but I didn't physically know it. Unlike my bio girlios where I felt I could get a sitter, and the girlios would still know that I am their mom, weeks and months of attaching could get exhausting, especially when meals and bedtime were stressful too. Before my son came home, we were out of the strollers, diapers, and naps phase. I enjoyed more 'free' time than I knew. Keeping up with the house post adoption was just not happening. My son got my attention. My girlios had to adjust to him and getting less attention. There were times that I felt more exhausted than I should, and my arms ached. It was another adoptive mom who brought up the blues, and it resonated with me.<br />
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I read a few books on our trip to China. One of the books that I read most of, and it really resonated with me was "The Happiness Project." I'd like to finish it, but we'll see when that happens. I love that she makes tangible goals in the book. I wrote myself a list of things I want to do long term and short term. I set some goals. It gave me perspective. Exercise, particularly running, has been an important part of my physical, emotional and mental health. I was finally at a point post physical therapy that I could run again and now when I needed it I was too tired to go out. My arms ached. My super supportive husband gets it. I love him for it. I joined a group class and have run a few times. I gave up on the house, reminding myself of toddler life long ago, and gave myself some grace.<br />
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I'm getting better. We are getting better. We are a family. There are still bumps in the road, and some of them smart. We feel like a family. I still have to remind them that I am the mom, but I've done that everyday I've been a mom. They are my favorite people.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Favorite Peeps!</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-90686983588025971252014-12-02T22:35:00.000-06:002014-12-02T22:35:09.453-06:00The Poinsettia is Acid/Base WiseYesterday, I didn't post the winner of the reflective headband. After the holiday long weekend, I had laundry up to my eyeballs. I used a random number generator to pick the winner. Congratulations Barb (and her friend Chris) on your headbands. I picked up yarn today, and I have some online training to do for work so those headbands will be done pronto.<br />
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So, I got this poinsettia from a raffle at Jazzercise class (Yes, Jazzercise. It's fun, and that's another post). As a science teacher I was so excited. You see, poinsettias are acid/base indicators. It is not as dramatic as red cabbage, but it still indicates, and it smells better.<br />
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Here's what I did, and you can to. Gather all the things you want to test (clear solutions are better as color affects color), a poinsettia, a French press (or something to make your 'tea' in), containers to test in (we used glasses), hot water, and eager helpers.<br />
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Have your super helpers take the red leaves off and put them in the French press. It does take a lot of leaves. It actually helps to rip the leaves or cut them up. On a side note you can use the green leaves too but the solution goes from green to clear rather than green to red. It's a fun secondary test if you have the time and the ingredients.</div>
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Steep the leaves. The 'tea' should be a red-brown color.<br />
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Remove the leaves. The longer it steeps the better. The more concentrated the 'tea' the better the color.<br />
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Set up your testing materials. Add water to powders like baking soda, salt, baking powder, and borax. We diluted all the containers so the color was not as striking but it was detectable.<br />
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Give the little information on acid and bases. Ask questions on which ones do you think are acids and which one do you think are bases. Why?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What is up with this picture? The milk has a hue.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remember that the orange juice affect the color. It is pink at initial mixing.</td></tr>
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I take fabulous pictures; I know it. You'll have to trust me on the colors. Anyway, the acid solutions are pink. The basic solutions are green, and the neutral solutions are brownish. We didn't put them in order from acidic to basic yesterday, but we have done it before. We did mix it all together to see what colors they would make. I, being the geeky teacher, did ask if the new solution was more acidic or basic. Our big bucket in the end was slightly acidic.<br />
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Give it a try if you have a chance. It's an easy experiment, fairly clean and definitely seasonal.Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-83706839377635523022014-11-26T23:52:00.000-06:002014-11-26T23:52:19.881-06:00Our Hotels, The Families, My Village [Adoption Series Pt 4]We stayed in three different hotels in China. In Beijing we only stayed in our hotel for two nights, and since we stayed there for so little time I don't think I even have a picture. What was significant was meeting the other families from our agency. My friend Laury, who introduced us to CHI, commented before we left that it is not uncommon for families to get close during their time together. Here is what was so neat for us. There were four families together from our agency. The families split in pairs to two different regions to meet our children and then came back together in Guangzhou. In Xi'an we met two other families who shared our Xi'an experience and the same hotel. One family walked through the whole time with us.<br />
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Neat is not a strong enough word. It was all such a blessing. I met some amazing people. AMAZING families. Beautiful families. I often send off my students with the phrase "Be amazing." because there is a choice to be made to go beyond ordinary. I met and saw so many people being amazing. People adopting their second or third child from China, giving kids with an array of special needs a forever home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5HTRLTxkTeMQnxjc5oVqFbFAzwvfuaTRJDB5vjV9Rvn4wFX6saTeE5Ivp4cZHSFg2AoxhNLN7JkSebjQQlh6AvxX8YLi06neSAWGaRGHc0pFhzjoB5pyLT10KJM_ae7QgE6sU7lNFgGqW/s1600/GEDC0444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5HTRLTxkTeMQnxjc5oVqFbFAzwvfuaTRJDB5vjV9Rvn4wFX6saTeE5Ivp4cZHSFg2AoxhNLN7JkSebjQQlh6AvxX8YLi06neSAWGaRGHc0pFhzjoB5pyLT10KJM_ae7QgE6sU7lNFgGqW/s1600/GEDC0444.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Xi'an hotel room</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The opposite view and me on the bed jet-laggin'</td></tr>
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Our hotel in Xi'an was very fancy looking. However, it sometimes had a smell of sewage and/or backed up plumbing. Bummer. On the plus side, we were put on the same floor as two families, one from our agency and one from another. This was great because we could have play dates in the hallway. I cherished those times. It gave us the opportunity to share our experiences. For me, I needed to hear other's joys, struggles and progress. I also enjoyed just laughing. Amy brought her whole family to adopt a second child from Xi'an. Her family is a hoot. And just precious. I have occasionally called my son, Chicken, and I have Amy to thank for it. Spending time with the families, with my new family member, was a great support. When the ladies went to the baby store and to the department store it was an adventure. We enjoyed different restaurants together. One of the families spoke Chinese, and we got the opportunity to experience a local hot pot/bbq meal that I would have missed without them. I laughed hard during a stressful time, and it was good for me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PiF8YV0IDyupoWL77QLWpu3s-VVmF-XceAbteYVeED_7LeTd9RJ1RTekk-nUGM13NKUkwcX-2oownk_3J15dDOb38mvZOGbCS5ArWZIm5L1YJabEXGsWiVNDoFA6EUhqqxmw2-wh3uIL/s1600/IMG_0584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PiF8YV0IDyupoWL77QLWpu3s-VVmF-XceAbteYVeED_7LeTd9RJ1RTekk-nUGM13NKUkwcX-2oownk_3J15dDOb38mvZOGbCS5ArWZIm5L1YJabEXGsWiVNDoFA6EUhqqxmw2-wh3uIL/s1600/IMG_0584.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Xi'an families</td></tr>
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When we got to Guangzhou we had to say goodbye to the families from the other agency in Xi'an as they were in another hotel. We did see them on different occasions like the boat tour and at the consulate. Another blessing. The Garden Hotel was amazing. I have used the word 'opulent'. We didn't take a panoramic of our room but the lobby took my breath away. Our room was huge. A couple of the families got rooms that were actually apartments. Huger huge.I am thankful that we could use their washer-drier to do our laundry. Nothing dried in Xi'an, and we were living on the edge. It was so nice to see the other families again and share our stories. And we all had stories. Then we got to share our time in Guangzhou together to build more stories. We went on outings, to restaurants and shopping with some or all of the other families. The Malaysian restaurant was fantastic and by the third time our family went, it was like Cheers when we came in.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClGBEdLZPEFktsQzvIEwQC_FsdhivzJsuDo1JfYjL85oYwipMqQXRs-ydzxLRU968hLfYdXSuCrXzAK2NJhyphenhyphenXMkUjXJNjKzpbMUaK8fbIeeP9Ds9EiC7ySYgLH_ZG1pT4Dw9i4uNDVWRJ/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClGBEdLZPEFktsQzvIEwQC_FsdhivzJsuDo1JfYjL85oYwipMqQXRs-ydzxLRU968hLfYdXSuCrXzAK2NJhyphenhyphenXMkUjXJNjKzpbMUaK8fbIeeP9Ds9EiC7ySYgLH_ZG1pT4Dw9i4uNDVWRJ/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The CHI families in the hotel lobby</td></tr>
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The other awe inspiring thing was that most of the other families in our hotel in Guangzhou were adopting children, many with special needs, so breakfast in the hotel was a beautiful rainbows of families. People, it brought such joy to my heart to see, like almost to tears when I looked around the room, and that room was big. As the week went on the number of adoptive families dwindled, but it was still marvelous to see all the families. We got used to seeing certain families, asking how they were doing and sharing our stories. We were one of the last families to leave, and the last morning for breakfast there were only three adopting families a breakfast.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsqaNi7HRVp8gM1caEgUJrCKrEpcawjF29jER22VDTTk8ecX-q3E8FGVGdD2LiENRXQEjEJFZZQxuQai_mxqt5GuSgfcoAt5YXOk4xNExUmkGXshB0RoX1NkxKpkVapKuRiMefQZkw-p-/s1600/WP_000755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsqaNi7HRVp8gM1caEgUJrCKrEpcawjF29jER22VDTTk8ecX-q3E8FGVGdD2LiENRXQEjEJFZZQxuQai_mxqt5GuSgfcoAt5YXOk4xNExUmkGXshB0RoX1NkxKpkVapKuRiMefQZkw-p-/s1600/WP_000755.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clinic craziness</td></tr>
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One other event I want to note was the medical checkup morning. Apparently there were 90 children being adopted to the US that week. All those children needed to have their medical clearance before they could get their visas. Saturday morning is check-up day for all the kids at the clinic. Children over two had to get TB tests. Every child had to get a general physical in accordance with their paperwork, vitals, passport photos and ear/nose/throat. That place was a madhouse. A madhouse. There was a lot of hurry up and wait. It was a great opportunity to chat with other families with a lot of background noise, mainly crying. At one point I looked around, and I got choked up. There were children with so many special needs - missing appendages, Down's Syndrome, wheel chair bound, older children, facial issues, and more. And they were all getting ready to go home. Home. Families were opening up their heart and sharing their lives. It was BEAUTIFUL. I get why people go back to adopt again. There is such a need. A huge need. From an institution to a family. Beyond surviving to flourishing. To thriving.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the zoo. Our last day all together. </td></tr>
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To all the families we met, have a memorable wonderful first Thanksgiving together.Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-4232487817289377272014-11-26T14:18:00.003-06:002014-11-26T14:25:24.387-06:00A Flashy Crafty Headwarming GiveawayIt's that time of year again. The time when the sun goes down at 4:30 pm, and I'll probably be running in the dark and cold until March. Thankfully, I am running again, but I am doing other things to round out my muscles. I think my physical therapist was fantastic, but I don't want to see him again if I can avoid it. Tomorrow is my longest race this year, and my first race in a long time, the Mayor's Turkey Day Run 10k in Kenosha. More on this later (as well as finishing up my adoption series). Much to do.<br />
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Back to topic at hand. There's a guy running in my neighborhood that scares me when I drive because I can BARELY see him until I am practically on top of him. I've 'seen' him twice. He wears red, black and NO reflective gear. Good for you for running, but don't be stupid. It is dark out there.<br />
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When trolling through the yarn area at the store the other day, I was so excited to find that Red Heart makes a reflective yarn. And in lots of colors. So excited.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojqsK0hbCmtVu32zWCu64LYQ6B-zhPlRT5ux9H05_cyDjuR3je7Jfo-FAdaunR4gQU4ddCcrFdPUQayOLK2nCa3MhM2d2bwwJ_Dxy64wg26HjLT5PpPL0gjemJHeMIHA862KSeUa0vK-_/s1600/WP_001479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojqsK0hbCmtVu32zWCu64LYQ6B-zhPlRT5ux9H05_cyDjuR3je7Jfo-FAdaunR4gQU4ddCcrFdPUQayOLK2nCa3MhM2d2bwwJ_Dxy64wg26HjLT5PpPL0gjemJHeMIHA862KSeUa0vK-_/s1600/WP_001479.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at all the colors and possibilities.</td></tr>
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Check out how cool they are. With the flash on they reflect everywhere. There was a pattern on the package so I bought the same colors and made a couple of headbands.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0mzkswHMMKH4ua-rZYx_G5wtYAx2DyPNtjT3Oa2vXqQqlQX-R9sDezYL3kt4Ty_Xvx7KW8oDvXtFe0MH9fwAYai-l7-7MluQvWQvX3dibbUrH5NpWO1Nh9gldsnSx3RxEnbkjrs9XTKo/s1600/WP_001510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0mzkswHMMKH4ua-rZYx_G5wtYAx2DyPNtjT3Oa2vXqQqlQX-R9sDezYL3kt4Ty_Xvx7KW8oDvXtFe0MH9fwAYai-l7-7MluQvWQvX3dibbUrH5NpWO1Nh9gldsnSx3RxEnbkjrs9XTKo/s1600/WP_001510.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No flash. I swear by those pocket guides.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Will the flash on. Super cool!</td></tr>
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You may wonder when I have time to be so crafty. My answer is in two parts. These are fast to make, and I don't sit still well. I never thought I would be a crocheter or a knitter. My mom was and I didn't understand. Now I do. It's rhythmic, it can keep me awake when the day is long, and it keeps my hands busy. I don't make big or involved things, but I do have a sense of accomplishment in a short time. It is rather mindless. Considering I feel like I get nothing else done, it helps.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGd6-tlejhdsry9p9k5tZMiMM8jic0ylYoiWbxs_BbvlvWRfDJryW0cRnQU4UmPGSGYQGRe-V5nUzPTGA3ucEvqi6yhZzgOhbfYtM1AOKvPPlvRguV3NbQMO0CUzrk3FAGCxK2jxwiZ6Q/s1600/WP_001539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGd6-tlejhdsry9p9k5tZMiMM8jic0ylYoiWbxs_BbvlvWRfDJryW0cRnQU4UmPGSGYQGRe-V5nUzPTGA3ucEvqi6yhZzgOhbfYtM1AOKvPPlvRguV3NbQMO0CUzrk3FAGCxK2jxwiZ6Q/s1600/WP_001539.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue trim.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NIWF1acnB2JVuAGcMZyana7o5CsQuNlotWm8_HVFUjuda5ktu76RHC1JjqlXPpUclTuGih2KAKJcYGxNGiam9Pqv7pRi9CgODpn8MTmFcW_RUSAKnLetatwRa9G9L4UnP5UO21CXZs0M/s1600/WP_001541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NIWF1acnB2JVuAGcMZyana7o5CsQuNlotWm8_HVFUjuda5ktu76RHC1JjqlXPpUclTuGih2KAKJcYGxNGiam9Pqv7pRi9CgODpn8MTmFcW_RUSAKnLetatwRa9G9L4UnP5UO21CXZs0M/s1600/WP_001541.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Purple trim. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flash on! Look at Me!</td></tr>
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In the spirit of Thanksgiving and giving in general, I am doing a little giveaway. The winner will get to pick two colors, and I will make them two headbands, one in each color trim. One is to keep and one to give. In order to enter,<u> leave a comment on the colors you would choose, who you would give the other headband to and follow the blog if you haven't already.</u> The giveaway will end on midnight Sunday 11/30, and a winner will be picked using a random number generator on Monday (Remember, the headbands are handmade so they are not perfect, unless perfect means flashy and cozy. I have worn mine around the house.)<br />
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Happy Thanksgiving!<br />
<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-54060104705625491862014-10-30T22:26:00.000-05:002014-10-30T22:26:30.881-05:00Getting to Know You - Daily Gains and Losses [Adoption Series Pt 3]When we show people pictures of our son, they are often taken aback because of his fair complexion. He has albinism. Albino is the more familiar term, but it can have a negative connotation so I hesitate in using it. We weren't sure when we met him if he would have red eyes and white hair, which is not uncommon with albinism. In fact, he has blue eyes and light red/blond hair. He actually looks like he fits in with our family.<br />
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Albinism affects vision, skin sensitivity and vary rarely can be associated with a bleeding and neurological disorder. We were not sure what to expect when we met him because there is very little on his medical report. It did say that he was afraid of light (which he is). The condition is called photophobia. It's like being woken up by a bright light and not being able to relax your eyes. It hurts. Poor depth perception, nsytagmus (involuntary wiggling of the eyes) and lower resolution vision are some of the vision issues related to albinism.<br />
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This post comes off a bit clinical. I'm sorry for that. My mind works analytically and loves observation. You may not see in my observations the emotional roller coaster, the emotional weariness and the grief of letting expectations go. A friend said when she met our son that he was surprisingly average. I take that as a huge complement because it shows how far he's come.<br />
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When we met our son, he was stressed and nervous. His nystagmus was in overdrive. The first day he self soothed with his shirt on his imaginary soul patch and his eyes danced eerily. Because of his poor depth perception and lack of vision resolution he had to be dependent on his caregiver and he played with toys very close to his face. He held the toys we brought very close, curving his neck and back to see more clearly. Consequently, we don't think he walked much. He stood up for us on the second day and walked a few steps before throwing himself into our arms, but he was unsteady on his feet. He had a squishy belly and squishy thighs. Since his calves were super strong, we suspected he scooched on his bottom and kicked like a champ.<br />
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While other children were running around and enjoying their new freedom, our son sat and played quietly. It worried me. When our son cried, he cried a close mouth cry except when he had a full out tantrum, and then he would flail so much that we tried to keep him from hurting himself. We suspect that the children could have those tantrums in their cribs and not be injured as they would have been on our hotel marble floor. That first night, I confessed to my husband, "He's so broken." My husband replied, "He's who God chose for us." I had to let go of all my expectations and get to know our son right where he was. I had to cheer at every gain and not be discouraged by the losses.<br />
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His nystagmus his calmed down so much. Now, I rarely see it. He's got to be tired or stressed out. He still self-soothes on everything he can find that is soft and cuddly. I made him a blanket out of the softest yarn I could find. He's attached to it well, and it signals naps and nighttime. We all walked him down the hall of the hotel holding his hand for long stretches of time. He would walk and walk and walk. He never walked independently in our first hotel room. In our second hotel, he walked cautiously around the room. It filled me with joy. He's still unsure on slopes, grass or uneven ground, but he is making strides. I see them as huge gains, but to the outside eye may not even notice. He's smart, determined and a quick learner. He is almost running now, but only where he knows the terrain. He doesn't play on playground equipment, yet.<br />
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He has lots of eating issues. When our son eats, he makes a sound like "yumm" but the "um" doesn't stop. It started out endearing but it became stressful. The noise would go on for the duration of the meal. Baby signs and food security has made meals more manageable. He has transitioned from a bottle to sippy. He didn't eat solid food when we met him. His tongue still got in the way and he didn't know what to do with his bottom lip. He didn't open his hands to put hand held food into his mouth. He didn't use his thump effectively. Now, he'll try to feed himself with a spoon. The dog loves it. Huge strides in a short time.<br />
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I could go on and on about how he is overcoming delays. Two things I want to note. When we were at a meal in Xi'an our guide Sherry encouraged me by saying that some kids in the orphanage get attention because they are loud and demand it. She said that other kids are quiet and since they play by themselves they don't get as much attention, but they still need it. "Don't worry," she said, "He'll be fine." She was right. Our son has attached remarkably well. The psychologist at our adoption intake evaluation made a statement that has stuck with me. "Somebody at the orphanage loved him." They did, and we do too.<br />
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Everyday we make gains. I can't imagine where we will be in a year. I look forward to it.<br />
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Photo Drop Time!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our guides, Sally and Sherry, in Xi'an</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the new section of Guangzhou</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfOpNMHcymjFH4rSeO6HE95jIO0ZNm-68KQTVzQE-spRUowL_VaVKxuzIBsLM1is5R0a7Z15nILiDTsxGaGHfIWOs9YbdbDKQnp-oiDf17KMb4PGL2h2LI90aPzCNqwjfd-2S22XRf_Dy/s1600/WP_000784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfOpNMHcymjFH4rSeO6HE95jIO0ZNm-68KQTVzQE-spRUowL_VaVKxuzIBsLM1is5R0a7Z15nILiDTsxGaGHfIWOs9YbdbDKQnp-oiDf17KMb4PGL2h2LI90aPzCNqwjfd-2S22XRf_Dy/s1600/WP_000784.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite cling-on before the river cruise</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making it legit and getting a visa</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLknocQKU16ur9H6RI0IACFKGo_KJAz3JRBJZs98VwN-nrkCPqq1XDKYteLxVJFeJls-5_BQ-d8KU3vplMqtuCAZtc5QRnzSZXMW4DlTmOIndzbqX4x-5uF_g1tujWbcweBNO9TM84cB-6/s1600/WP_000817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLknocQKU16ur9H6RI0IACFKGo_KJAz3JRBJZs98VwN-nrkCPqq1XDKYteLxVJFeJls-5_BQ-d8KU3vplMqtuCAZtc5QRnzSZXMW4DlTmOIndzbqX4x-5uF_g1tujWbcweBNO9TM84cB-6/s1600/WP_000817.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At our hotel in Guangzhou and pretty happy about it</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-30419967421929847702014-10-26T23:16:00.003-05:002014-10-26T23:17:00.155-05:00Schedule? What Schedule? [Adoption Series Pt 2]There were some parts about our adoption process that made my heart race and tears well up in my eyes. There were other parts that lacked the luster I expected them to have. When we met our son it was fairly unceremonious. The room was an office with a desk on one side and a conference table on the other. It was poorly lit with whitish tile. I was nervous. Our guides told us to come up with questions for our child's nannies who would be dropping off our son. The orphanage was a two hour drive from the office. I am sure it was the second car trip my son had taken. The first was to the orphanage from the place he was left, and the second was to this office. There were six families meeting children in this office, from more than one orphanage, at the same time.<br />
<br />
I made my list of questions. What does he like to do? To eat? What time does he get up? Go to bed? Please, tell me all about him. I'll be honest. Asking through the translator was difficult. Lots of people were talking all at once in an enclosed space about the size of our family room. The nannies told us his schedule. Eventually, after all the questions, our translator wrote down the schedule for us, and then the nannies left. We were one of the last families to leave the room and go back to our hotel room just a few levels below.<br />
<br />
My son didn't cry, but he was nervous. We were nervous too. He clung to an apple slice in his hand that had been slightly gnawed on. My husband removed it from his hand when he fell asleep for the night. My husband also went out to get baby food and apples for him. (Yesterday, was the first time I saw my son eat raw apple. We ended up giving the apples we bought to our guide.) We made it through the first night, but we felt over our heads.<br />
<br />
It rained in Xi'an for almost the whole week. It felt like Seattle in the Fall. Xi'an happens to be the home of the Terracotta Warriors as well as having one of the oldest and most intact City Walls in the world. Both of them were fascinating. It was important to see the local sights and to be able to share them with our son. Due to the rain, we had our day of rest and then two days of sightseeing after a paperwork day rather than jumping right into sightseeing. That was good. Either way the days were packed.<br />
<br />
Having the nannies write down our son's schedule was futile. He had lived a scheduled life in the orphanage, and we blew his schedule completely. We fed him different foods. Most of the children were food insecure. They ate almost everything and anything. Crinkled packaging elicited a response often desperate. Wake up times, napping, regular meals - gone. Travel in buses to new locations. We brought a stroller around the world only to find, our son didn't want to be put down. Poor kid.<br />
<br />
Looking back, our son went from the orphanage to two different hotels before coming home and any hopes of reestablishing a schedule. We took him all over the countryside at a variety of times, we fed him a variety of foods, and we gave him naps whenever. We messed up the world he knew. We didn't even speak the same language. The only constant in the two weeks of travel until we got home was us. I am thankful he learned to trust us.So thankful. I can't even imagine how hard it was for him to go from the normal and routine of his first year and a half to what we introduced him to. We learned a lot about him and he of us, but it was hard.<br />
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Photo Drop...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last full night in a crib until we came home. <br />
The next night he woke up screaming and then he co-slept.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carrying him up the Xi'an City Wall steps. Our arms hurt, often.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb90VAsgzSSNHkI-DQbJngtack_M_Jm9-K_mGs7zUv2tSg1uvXZBafXKQcZNqTErXbDSgP6YPE1tSbe5ZmxMkmOv82TCFENN3bh3z9dJ61a3ktWUgxAZwGJ5cefGjWIvkC-DusLL45QB6s/s1600/GEDC0465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb90VAsgzSSNHkI-DQbJngtack_M_Jm9-K_mGs7zUv2tSg1uvXZBafXKQcZNqTErXbDSgP6YPE1tSbe5ZmxMkmOv82TCFENN3bh3z9dJ61a3ktWUgxAZwGJ5cefGjWIvkC-DusLL45QB6s/s1600/GEDC0465.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The City Wall was beautiful,<br />
and I wanted to go back to walk/run/ride the 8+ miles all the way around it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1lsOWtpVXoT1tFGwl-DzdAhvUXCGZKWxfbU5uxnB7gy6VVXQDlR_aGV3BXasVbFlbXaVqrHM3YXvsdkZX6oH0dkTDUhNvSeizcnzHaLpH7VawHCWwyPdx2F7qwWytzBkpuc-RBKSGbzz/s1600/GEDC0514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1lsOWtpVXoT1tFGwl-DzdAhvUXCGZKWxfbU5uxnB7gy6VVXQDlR_aGV3BXasVbFlbXaVqrHM3YXvsdkZX6oH0dkTDUhNvSeizcnzHaLpH7VawHCWwyPdx2F7qwWytzBkpuc-RBKSGbzz/s1600/GEDC0514.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild Goose Pagoda Fountain Park</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU2bTo-y_IMl_TLVWDxFeCMeBQUvjy2pwMXN-VrH7EVejfpZujB_Ptu9tE3W5j-kQqRayITIUk0k0kyhXEkOsGboDZlXpDMUOhLOIU8kvo5XAhp1lUumM3oPDdMtaNMJwDTz0oJHxBOab/s1600/GEDC0529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU2bTo-y_IMl_TLVWDxFeCMeBQUvjy2pwMXN-VrH7EVejfpZujB_Ptu9tE3W5j-kQqRayITIUk0k0kyhXEkOsGboDZlXpDMUOhLOIU8kvo5XAhp1lUumM3oPDdMtaNMJwDTz0oJHxBOab/s1600/GEDC0529.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At a Terracotta Warrior Replica Factory</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghS02x-hmlg89y0B44MBw_7iPP21dDytLSO-NFJG-bI6CGM5pF88FgJdsvrHIsLeOHHHfjFbpl41xaY4aTG65d7k5G9Ot1w3F0wEHpdK_wY_cMRuBoe4_cmO0PtS06szM-qRIULoqS6mvO/s1600/GEDC0542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghS02x-hmlg89y0B44MBw_7iPP21dDytLSO-NFJG-bI6CGM5pF88FgJdsvrHIsLeOHHHfjFbpl41xaY4aTG65d7k5G9Ot1w3F0wEHpdK_wY_cMRuBoe4_cmO0PtS06szM-qRIULoqS6mvO/s1600/GEDC0542.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Terracotta Warriors Pit 1: Amazing. Wow.</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-53930533158060089442014-10-14T13:25:00.000-05:002014-10-14T13:25:19.677-05:00My name is Mom, and I have jet lag [Adoption Series Pt 1]Adoption is a crazy long paperwork trail attached to the beginning of a long relationship with a child. This is a series on how it was for us at the end of the paperwork and meeting our son. I need to qualify and say that I can only speak for myself. My experience may be a little different than my husband or my daughter who went too. Our experience is definitely different from other people's experiences. Now that I've had a little time to process and to sleep I am able to see a little more objectively. People have asked how our trip was. That's a hard question to answer. It can't be answered simply. It was sweet. It was hard. It was a whirlwind.<br />
<br />
Since the first week of October is a national holiday in China and the third week is a sales convention in Guangzhou where the only US consulate in China issuing visas is located, when we received our travel approval in the last week of August our agency worked to get us an appointment at the consulate in September. We had just under two weeks to get our own visas, our ducks in a row and head out. In hindsight I am thankful for the Labor Day weekend within that time because we could do nothing that day. It slowed us down.<br />
<br />
I am one of those people who doesn't relax on a trip until I get on the plane. We had lists of papers to bring, gifts, money, and a booked itinerary. I relaxed a little and but not all the way. We arrived in Beijing late in the evening after a 13 hour flight to find out that we would be sightseeing early the next morning with the three other families from our agency, Children's Hope International. I appreciate all the in-country logistics that our agency did. If my body was in the right time zone it would have gone much better. All of us woke up at 2 am and stared for a while. Sweet jet lag.<br />
<br />
Our day of sight seeing included Tienanmen Square, the Forbidden City, a jade shop, the Great Wall, the Olympic village and a tea shop. On little sleep, I was a zombie. I found it ironic that the Forbidden City that the Emperor only came to three times a year has thousands of people visiting daily. Definitely not what he had in mind. It was all fascinating but so hard to appreciate in my fatigue. My daughter fell fast asleep after the Great Wall where she boasts walking more than 1100 steps. I boast a drool spot on my leg. Yes, I took pictures, but I 'm saving those for her wedding.<br />
<br />
By the time we got back to the hotel, I crawled into bed with my clothes on and slept. No dinner. Up at 4 am. Somewhere in there I changed. Exhausted and still jet lagged. We got up early again that morning because we flew to Xi'an, the capital of the province where our son's orphanage was located. After checking in, (we are thankful for our CHI coordinator, Amy) we took one of the most turbulent flights I've ever been on. One and a half hours of the one hour and fifty minute flight was bouncy. We were in the back. One other family traveled with us, and we all were praying for safety. And for the flight to be over. I am not a good flier. I am a terrible turbulent flier.<br />
<br />
We arrived in Xi'an around noon, met our guides, met other families, checked into our hotel, and exchanged money. That afternoon we met our children and took them with us. Excitement and exhaustion were overwhelming. Our son traveled two hours from his orphanage to meet us. All the children had different manifestations of stress. Crying, withdraw, fatigue. It was hard, but it was sweet. It was a moment all the parents had been waiting for. We all knew that things take time and that this was just the beginning. Our son laughed with the toy we brought him. This encouraged us. The next few days included more paperwork and logistics. I am so thankful for our guides because I was Out Of It. Sherry knew everything we needed to do, she was patient, and she was gracious. She had been doing this for five years every week from March to October. She was training our guide, Sally, and she knew that we were there for the children. I eventually got in the right time zone, but it took at least one nap. The whirlwind wasn't done. I had just gotten my bearings.<br />
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Photo Drop Time!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yum, Mexican food before traveling.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tienanmen Square</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forbidden City</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Great Wall <br />(1173 steps for B and S. Umm, less for me)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDegTNoVvGh_pW_o3BjQuTuPAO-CGxbvaQFbj1OHJe-bxWUxrviKhJbRHriFkNmrc4DHTvHeMEUdeSvv52QGyDloElS1GDtXIO8T9U6MiOzWmELL_E4tVyvfRf6NIZ9DFd-gtO5SQAKoxz/s1600/GEDC0438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDegTNoVvGh_pW_o3BjQuTuPAO-CGxbvaQFbj1OHJe-bxWUxrviKhJbRHriFkNmrc4DHTvHeMEUdeSvv52QGyDloElS1GDtXIO8T9U6MiOzWmELL_E4tVyvfRf6NIZ9DFd-gtO5SQAKoxz/s1600/GEDC0438.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olympic Village - Bird's Nest <br />(My daughter asked "What's that?" I replied, "You were sleeping.")</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello son!</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-74604654237245137652014-07-28T19:04:00.001-05:002014-07-28T19:34:59.910-05:00A Letter to My SeamusMy boy Seamus,<br />
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Thank you for being my dog. My dog. It is really hard to say, "Goodbye."<br />
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Yes, you weren't the perfect dog. You were a chatty corgi, barking at everything. And your bark was loud. People could hear you down the street. The girlios took your lead and learned that if they nagged at Mom long enough they got what they wanted. "SIT WITH ME. RIGHT NOW. RIGHT NOW. I SIT ON THE LEFT." "IT'S 4:30 PM. DON'T YOU KNOW I EAT AT 5:00 PM." So so annoying, but when you made that noise like Chewbacca it was hard not to smile. "Rrrroooooh!" Your face was so expressive. The Lord gave you eyebrows, and you could work 'em.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sweet face</td></tr>
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I remember when we brought you home. You spent your first few months in a house with no stairs. As you walked into our home with stairs up and down off the landing you looked so confused. The stairs have always been a little weird for you with your wacky back and wiggly hips.<br />
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When we first got you I would read my Bible on the sofa and you would crawl up on the pages snuggling in pressing your nose leaving your watermark. You were known for laying on any object that was on the ground. Anything. Paper. Socks. Jackets. During a Pampered Chef party at my home you laid on the folders on the floor.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You loved the girlios, letting them lean, hug and play with their friends.</td></tr>
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I am sorry that you never got to eat at the pace you wanted. Winnie always had your food in mind and in sight. She wouldn't even let you by the kitchen table. I loved being able to give you empty peanut butter containers. I am sorry that you didn't enjoy riding in the car. I am sorry that you never liked anybody touching your paws. I am sorry that someone left the gate open twice, and you wandered away. Winnie came right to the front door, but you followed your nose. The second time a man picked you up and you were exchanged from car to car. The first time I rode my bike looking for you, and when you saw me you ran to me full of energy and excitement. "Mom, I found you!"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No candy for you!</td></tr>
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You were picky about your water bowl though. We have three water bowls inside and one outside. You liked your water fresh too. Once, the water bowl upstairs was empty, and you pushed it down the stairs to let us know it was empty. Many years later you learned that same pushing motion would let you out the screen door. An old dog learned new tricks. It was so much better than that time you ran into the screen door.<br />
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With other dogs you were dog aggressive on walks, protecting the family. However, you always waited for the dogs in neighboring yards to come out so you could 'chat' with them. Taking running leaps off the deck eventually wore on your little legs, but in your youth you could catch flies and dragonflies in the air. You never really got the hang of catch as you always let Winnie have the ball and barked the whole time. It only took about 20 throws to wear out corgi legs. When Winnie got tired, you refused to play. Such a funny pair.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbVHKk7MMkvLsQuqloIE9_AC2zLh8041gH4p6fTWLhcNHTOsk8TG7NQs7njFdm8aGcFkHJ0k07Fd_39Jt3gpm1Dl2_twRYKtQshJAsGr97DwmnEB7Px8PUNMq9hui5d6g1cKvCrPY-ovJ/s1600/WP_001205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbVHKk7MMkvLsQuqloIE9_AC2zLh8041gH4p6fTWLhcNHTOsk8TG7NQs7njFdm8aGcFkHJ0k07Fd_39Jt3gpm1Dl2_twRYKtQshJAsGr97DwmnEB7Px8PUNMq9hui5d6g1cKvCrPY-ovJ/s1600/WP_001205.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winnie and Seamus</td></tr>
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You never liked to go to a kennel. As a nervous dog, you would suffer for days after your return. When we moved into our current house, we put you in the kennel for the move but not for the packing. You were always nervous when we packed, even for vacation. The first morning in our house my husband woke up to you throwing up next to his head. You threw up four more times. I'm so glad we never changed the carpeting before we moved in. We tried to have house sitters from then on. Just for you.<br />
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Thank you for being our weather dog. You were more predictable than the Weather Channel. Six hours before a front came through you would be in your kennel. The kennel was your safe place. After barking at company, hearing loud noises, while the girlios practiced piano and through storms, the blue box was your haven.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stretching out your spine</td></tr>
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When we took obedience class together, you graduated at the top of your class. The instructor told me during one of the classes, "You know he just wants to please you." Yes, you did. Early on you slept intermittently on the bed, but as the years went on your place was at the end of the bed. At night you would stretch you spine out along my leg and your breathing and warmth would calm me, especially on those nights my anxieties got to me.<br />
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When the girlios took their naps, you took one with me. Since B was gone, you would sneak up and take his spot by the pillow. You were sneaky on the sofa too. Though you preferred the left, when someone got up you took their warm spot. Especially when you licked a huge spot on your side. Stinker. Thanks for taking one last nap with me yesterday. The girlios have their lovies. You've been my lovie for years. There will be a void when you are gone.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet drooly boy</td></tr>
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I am sorry you got sick. I was hoping my boys would meet each other, but it wasn't meant to be. Thank you for 12 years of service. For 12 years of faithfulness. For 12 years of love. I hope we've loved you well. We will miss you. We miss you already.<br />
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Good Night Sweet Prince.<br />
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-84108226856578324352014-06-13T21:12:00.000-05:002014-06-13T21:12:01.193-05:00Esprit De She Naperville Triathlon Recap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A good tri day. A bad hair day. Didn't find my pony until post race.</td></tr>
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Last weekend I completed my fourth triathlon. It was my first foot race since graduating PT. (The swim and the biking were just a long warm up for the run.) Today I ran 6 miles, my longest post injury run. Two big wins in a week.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Early early morning selfie with the portas</td></tr>
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I forget that getting ready for a triathlon is like packing for a trip. Swim stuff, bike stuff, running stuff, and post race stuff. I bought a wetsuit this year, and it was my security blanket. Not only does it keep me warm, it gives me a little buoyancy, and it acts as a protective layer from lake/beach goop. Sweet. All your stuff has to be set up in the transition area before the race actually starts. At some triathlons you can get your gear together the night before. For Naperville, we set up before the race. This year the tri was sold out, and the racks were much more crowded than last year. There was a woman who had come early, had a flat, gotten her flat fixed and had about 10 minutes to lay out her gear and rack her bike. It was her first tri. She was frantic. The racks were so packed she was having trouble finding space. I swished my stuff over and racked her bike. She gave me a hug and a blessing. That's a nice way to start a race.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the stuff<br />
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Transition closes and the race starts. The elites start first. (The winner finished in 1:04:59. A-mazing) The cancer survivors go next and then waves by age. The older I get the sooner I start. This year the swim felt much more crowded. I don't like kicking people or being kicked. There was also the emotional struggle in the swim. Can I make it? Do I really know how to swim? Don't panic. I love that when going out and back in the Naperville beach there is the opportunity to walk before going back into the water. It allowed me to emotionally regroup. I felt confident for the last leg. (17:01 min swim)<br />
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Okay, I know I'm not supposed to set time goals for a comeback event for which I'm terribly under-trained, but I did. My goal was to finish the whole race in under two hours. My time overall time was 2:00:44. I will tell you where that 44 seconds went. During Transition 1 from swim to bike, I changed out of my wetsuit and into my Nuu Muu dress, and I went to the bathroom. While in the porta I totally Ross Gellered. My wet tri pants were stuck. Good gracious. I spent almost 4 minutes longer in T1 than I did last year. Ridiculous. Even I couldn't help but laugh. (T1-9:19 min)<br />
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My max distance on my bike this year has been about 5 miles. I have done 5 mi bike x 3 mi run x 5 mi bike bricks, but I was pretty nervous about the bike section. There are two laps for the Naperville tri, and when I started the bike section I reminded myself that it was a great opportunity to warm up my hip, leg and foot. I also noticed as the miles progressed that I was behind "Elly." I decided to pace Elly for the bike section. As I got tired or the wind picked up, I kept my eye on where she was and pushed a bit harder. As we came around the second lap, I passed Elly. I turned to her and told her that she couldn't slow down because she was my pacer. She said she knew I was close behind her because she kept hearing people say "Cute dress!" At that point, Elly and I rode side-by-side for the rest of the bike section. We talked about our kids of similar ages, our husbands, the swim, and our love of trails. I am so thankful for Elly. So thankful. She made the time go quickly, and the bike go swiftly. (58:37 min bike - 13.61 mi/hour)<br />
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Transition 2 went much better. (4:48 min) My feet didn't feel like bricks. I think having toe clips on my bike really helped. My legs were warmed up for my run, and I ran. I ran happy. The course was mostly shady (PTL) and went quickly. I am stunned and pleasantly pleased finding out my pace. I don't wear a watch on race day. I will take a 9 in front of my pace any day, even a 9:59. (31:01 min - 9:59 pace)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All done! Now to walk it to the car...</td></tr>
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Here's what I love about the Esprit De She Naperville Triathlon. It's an all women's event, and women of all shapes, sizes, ages and phases participate. I often play the compare game with other women. When I was picking up my packet and listening to the course description I looked around. I saw such a spectrum of women. And overall, during the race women were encouraging other women. Yes, the competitors were annoyed with lollygags getting in their way, but there was a tremendous feeling of encouragement. I love that. Love that. Esprit De She has fabulous swag and throws a great party (for packet pick up and post race). The flower station where you pick and pot a plant is wonderful. I sampled and strolled. I enjoyed myself. I tri-ed, and I'll tri again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3swkdZpJv62EIK0tjM5SU7KshVU0D-rXuf7cfjsNIBY_zKI1sfP_tTFUD6DTOj_aRpVkbqihgM-QpfoP_SFD46Uga28IJ_DNv0qsKfPhPhxmNdf9wKR7nBWliHeozbDOZI_uB5UlLU5P/s1600/WP_001208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3swkdZpJv62EIK0tjM5SU7KshVU0D-rXuf7cfjsNIBY_zKI1sfP_tTFUD6DTOj_aRpVkbqihgM-QpfoP_SFD46Uga28IJ_DNv0qsKfPhPhxmNdf9wKR7nBWliHeozbDOZI_uB5UlLU5P/s1600/WP_001208.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sweet swag - ornate, living and usable.</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-47549682463889177162014-05-28T22:19:00.000-05:002014-05-28T22:19:37.408-05:00Des Plaines River Canoe Marathon RecapI got my patch. (And my 18.5 mile sticker.) I earned my very own patch. And Maria earned her patch. We conquered the Des Plaines River Canoe Marathon together.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZ1V-KN2YMQdYESpDlNKyM96HStSB-fGBn1wxUUFc4MP9E1k0Rs3EYT0jklNPcUOoUvPILDl5GX37qG722gnaHQFrlZBX24POb77qWMYMYKrynEvsH-HGwJJ28XmadBfD3ikl1qlMUD1R/s1600/WP_001166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZ1V-KN2YMQdYESpDlNKyM96HStSB-fGBn1wxUUFc4MP9E1k0Rs3EYT0jklNPcUOoUvPILDl5GX37qG722gnaHQFrlZBX24POb77qWMYMYKrynEvsH-HGwJJ28XmadBfD3ikl1qlMUD1R/s1600/WP_001166.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first canoe patch!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I grew up in a canoeing family. My dad has many, many of these patches. That is one of the reasons this patch means so much to me. We canoed Boundary Waters on the US side. We canoed Quetico on the Canadian side. We canoed on vacations in Wisconsin. Here are just a few of the memories that I have about canoeing as a youth:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Watching my brother and his friend canoe into a waterfall thinking they would be shot out just like on the cartoons. Oops. Foiled by physics again.</li>
<li>Having a competition to see whose intestinal system could be stopped up the longest on a trip and losing by a day to my brother's friend. </li>
<li>Being mocked by my nephew about how I couldn't portage/canoe because I was a girl until he lifted my pack. Boom.</li>
<li>Being in the canoe when my other brother stood up to show off to his now wife and have the canoe tip over.</li>
<li>Wearing rockin' flannel button downs, Converse All Stars and out of control naturally occurring BHS (big hair syndrome). There are pictures. Awwe yeeaaah.</li>
</ul>
<div>
I paint a lovely picture. My memories are fond and humorous. That is why when Maria asked if anybody wanted to do the Canoe Marathon with her I thought, "Why not?" Neither of us had been in a canoe for 20 years or something, so why not do 18.5 miles in one shot. My parents were not doing it this year so I asked to borrow the canoe. Thankfully, we tried the canoe out for about an hour the day before the race so we were definitely ready. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvGd408cErARJJR2PiQaSyrCwFzfQr4tXy5PN_9ou0uekEYjMENTlG_mL6vsfBoHUVQ-ySVPHNEjpVyxZipjPQ39Fih18rabr0802amU0t5OjmVR4_wMzKiTyz9i9dn5xrfu__8AC9pk3/s1600/IMG_2890.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvGd408cErARJJR2PiQaSyrCwFzfQr4tXy5PN_9ou0uekEYjMENTlG_mL6vsfBoHUVQ-ySVPHNEjpVyxZipjPQ39Fih18rabr0802amU0t5OjmVR4_wMzKiTyz9i9dn5xrfu__8AC9pk3/s1600/IMG_2890.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our faithful steed</td></tr>
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<div>
There was talk about postponing the race because it had rained so much during the week. The river was very high, and the current was strong.(These actually helped us) We had to sign a waiver that asked if we were prepared to handle such situations appropriately, like swimming to shore, bailing on the canoe and helping others in need. Sure, why not?</div>
<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sUaoUF-nH_1J2y17b-oIk3zRxaW9UKUkHRT-CoayrG973Rp6vJNkSMvitl3BfqPbgxpLHM_2Uu-nEViIXufeskerGdJPGiz0Q5nAxWK88nJ1QLbm01-JC1-tH80zXhJowHuJZgYRmMEI/s1600/WP_001157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sUaoUF-nH_1J2y17b-oIk3zRxaW9UKUkHRT-CoayrG973Rp6vJNkSMvitl3BfqPbgxpLHM_2Uu-nEViIXufeskerGdJPGiz0Q5nAxWK88nJ1QLbm01-JC1-tH80zXhJowHuJZgYRmMEI/s1600/WP_001157.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canoe dropped off. When we came back, every spot was taken.</td></tr>
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<div>
We were supposed to arrive early enough to put our canoe at the start, drive down to the finish, park at a lot, take two shuttle buses back to the start and be ready an hour before our time to go. We did all of them except we arrived at the start at our time to go. And we didn't know what to do exactly because we hadn't done it before. When we left our canoe to park, there were 20 crafts in the starting area and when we started the race there almost double. After accidentally cutting in front of some kayaks, we were waved through the start (because we were late) and off we went.</div>
<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3SuWjQpE20-Cu3nttGmzpsFSiGGklA0N5_uqPShXyEqh_mQQr8lu1k3jE2HHVXZ7MOtJRtzybDBIt_xa73kxGvi-U6z2dUYWxR-xLz9F_uWKd3a47w3R6rxU6thTliZkFTrRTZrIyUUJ/s1600/IMG_2878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3SuWjQpE20-Cu3nttGmzpsFSiGGklA0N5_uqPShXyEqh_mQQr8lu1k3jE2HHVXZ7MOtJRtzybDBIt_xa73kxGvi-U6z2dUYWxR-xLz9F_uWKd3a47w3R6rxU6thTliZkFTrRTZrIyUUJ/s1600/IMG_2878.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-race selfie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
It was a beautiful day. The current helped us move along as we had some zig and zag. I would find myself only paddling on one side because I got distracted. We didn't have a particular rhythm. Go forward. Our goal was to enjoy our time, to eat chocolate to stave the h-anger (peanut butter m&ms to the rescue) and to finish.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV83XMH2kR5rpRdVo2ba5fN4PIjef7eeE5dotFZcCoOePs4iArvQrIfQI5WOpy4994zDIRuJR0186NwW7S0JsGN7DZIfCxDu54ljRdGPaueAJ-DcCV98WQcByVr4IQpVGRb1ujyqmUfl-H/s1600/IMG_2882.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV83XMH2kR5rpRdVo2ba5fN4PIjef7eeE5dotFZcCoOePs4iArvQrIfQI5WOpy4994zDIRuJR0186NwW7S0JsGN7DZIfCxDu54ljRdGPaueAJ-DcCV98WQcByVr4IQpVGRb1ujyqmUfl-H/s1600/IMG_2882.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And to take Chewbacca on a ride.</td></tr>
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<div>
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<div>
At the start of the race we worried about the warnings. About a half a mile in a man in a single kayak tried to pass us on the left in a narrow portion and hit a branch that was reaching out into the water. He got stuck and was grunting/gasping for help. We tried to back pedal a bit to see how he was doing and, thankfully, another canoe was able to keep him afloat until help could rescue him. It was a grim image to the start of our race. </div>
<div>
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<div>
I had a grand time. The day became warmer than we expected and both of us went to short sleeves with no sunscreen. I have a great tan line at my wrists because I wore my yoga gloves for most of the race. That's the handiest they have ever been. There was wind but since the river was windy we would have stretches where we would have to work hard and stretches we would could take it easy. The wind only caught us off guard once where we were pushed hard to the bank. It was a bit surprising, but we got a hold of ourselves and continued on.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3k33xChpLVSaJmD6cvziaM3To7UtY2BUYeNv22SuYk5MlrY0TNVAdu7wDYv4XaS1IdQFdfKaYIBQ4vnr4jvqKbqN67OHYd_Ff-_W9ipFlVZVxUpxbD1d1MEnbmLSEdGVJ9gPq3sXEP36e/s1600/IMG_2885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3k33xChpLVSaJmD6cvziaM3To7UtY2BUYeNv22SuYk5MlrY0TNVAdu7wDYv4XaS1IdQFdfKaYIBQ4vnr4jvqKbqN67OHYd_Ff-_W9ipFlVZVxUpxbD1d1MEnbmLSEdGVJ9gPq3sXEP36e/s1600/IMG_2885.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful. Just beautiful.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
We got passed a lot. People are serious out there. There was a canoeing couple in which the husband would grunt when it was time to switch sides. There was a couple rowing to a four count. The kayaks flew by. One set of guys told us to look out for another canoe and tell them they would have dresses waiting for them at the end. Long and flowy. A Boy Scout leader had bet his scout. We were able to pass on the message.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
One of the things that really struck us while canoeing as runners and riders was the lack of communication in passing. As a runner or a biker, "On your left' is a common phrase. Boaters would just fly up past you without warning. Maria and I both had opportunities to smack another boat if we had not noticed as they came close unannounced. That became a little unnerving. Communication, please.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So in the end it took us just over 4 hours to paddle our way down. That's decent. Both of us had to go to the bathroom sometime along the way and we held it because trying to get out at a flooded bank and get back in seemed like a lost fight. Plenty of people did stop. When we got to the end I was pretty zonked, and we had to get the car and load the canoe. Loading the canoe again was brutal. We were both sun burned. Unloading the canoe at my parent's house was also brutal. Would I do the race again? Yes, but the conditions would be hard to beat: great company (Thanks Maria!), swift current, beautiful day and lots of peanut butter m&ms.</div>
<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xfY4fq3qbDNfR6O6l6OmN6kisFbn4paICg7parBxJ59Z4O48P9zVMFe8GbvpxvakjdxCNFreh42euN-XYF0G7kShMwKmgfx-7OUtR8VA-q1zui8rd2glJMVAM6fQ8xOcWTj2yaDdV_2L/s1600/IMG_2886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xfY4fq3qbDNfR6O6l6OmN6kisFbn4paICg7parBxJ59Z4O48P9zVMFe8GbvpxvakjdxCNFreh42euN-XYF0G7kShMwKmgfx-7OUtR8VA-q1zui8rd2glJMVAM6fQ8xOcWTj2yaDdV_2L/s1600/IMG_2886.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We did it! Post-race selfie!</td></tr>
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Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-21048917192380176462014-05-11T22:18:00.000-05:002014-05-11T22:18:08.348-05:00Holding my breathI want to tell you that we are booking our tickets to China and picking up our son, but I can't.<br />
<br />
I want to tell you all I know about him and how excited we are to meet him, but I can't.<br />
<br />
I want to tell you how our lives are all abuzz about preparing for him and my wacky nesting habits, but I can't.<br />
<br />
I just can't.<br />
<br />
Because I'm holding my breath. Waiting. Wondering. Hoping. Praying. Distracting myself. Guarding my heart. Still holding my breath. Feeling helpless. And I'm getting a little blue.<br />
<br />
See, we're in limbo. A few months ago we would have called it the 'Waiting Time' between matching us with a child and getting all the travel paperwork together, the last stages of paper pregnancy. However, the Chinese government changed their policy the week after we made our match tightening the timeline of when we have to get our US paperwork together. Our matched child happens to be a few months younger than our home study age range. This is not uncommon, and our home study simply needs to be updated to include his age. Sounds simple.<br />
<br />
However, I live in a state that does its paperwork very very slowly. In the paper race between the Chinese government and the US government, my state cuts Achilles tendons. Due to delayed US paperwork, a family has lost their referral, their match. Our agency said this is a first. I do not know if this family was from our state. At first we simply guarded our hearts because neither paperwork had come through so there was nothing to worry about. Or at least nothing to really worry about.<br />
<br />
This week however, the Chinese government won this leg of the paper race. And still we wait on our state. We know that it is truly out of our hands. We have done our part until we need to do our part again. We have to wait for others to do their part.<br />
<br />
We sincerely wish we could say that it will all work out, but we can't.<br />
<br />
We will hold our breath, rub a nose for good luck, and hopefully have some news soon.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrmePqxh2cDUgHAutjRm-xEtfXisSEtF6tDkmlDdZIhFYtV21aTVmOXdcvY2VwuKVYxCJY_I4yTKoIPqnjOkhYPTqGhyphenhyphenThJcLPTP7XdSkAvkm_xKwxXyJGwerLybFfyCtprfQl4NcaDr05/s1600/WP_001154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrmePqxh2cDUgHAutjRm-xEtfXisSEtF6tDkmlDdZIhFYtV21aTVmOXdcvY2VwuKVYxCJY_I4yTKoIPqnjOkhYPTqGhyphenhyphenThJcLPTP7XdSkAvkm_xKwxXyJGwerLybFfyCtprfQl4NcaDr05/s1600/WP_001154.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For luck.</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-46208400882718250512014-05-09T11:07:00.001-05:002014-05-09T11:07:26.778-05:00Women, Education, STEM and a Masculine Mind<i>"Let it not be said, whenever there is energy or creative genius, 'She had a masculine mind.'" - Margaret Fuller</i><br />
<br />
A few months ago I had an older student ask, "Why aren't there very many women in math?" It was a good question. I've been pondering it, and I think in light of the kidnapped Nigerian girls, I'd try to answer it to my limited ability. I don't really have a complete answer as I am one woman with a limited exposure in math and science, but I have thoughts. Buckle up.<br />
<br />
First, I'd like to open up the question to "Why aren't there very many women in STEM (science, technology, engineering and math)?" In college my biology classes were full of women. (The soft science) In chemistry the numbers got lower (The semi-hard science or the semi-soft science) and in physics (The hard science), even fewer. I took engineering physics at one of the top engineering school in the nation. I remember being one of two women in a lab class. The other woman was all, "Girl Power! Let's best these guys!" And I was definitely, "I just want to pass." The numbers of women in my math courses also decreased as the courses became more complex . What's up, Ladies? Where are you?<br />
<br />
As for my personal experience, I grew up in a science house. My dad and mom were scientists. I remember dinner conversations that were scientific and completely beyond my understanding. Boy, these peas taste great. Having a science family helped create an encouraging math-sci environment for me. My parents, particularly my dad, believed in equality of the sexes. That helps even more. My dad says with regularity that he grew up in one of the most egalitarian societies in the world. No, it's not here. The only person who told me that I couldn't do something was me. I'm awesome at thwarting my own efforts. Thank you very much. My family, my micro-community, easily negated social messages that said science is for boys or that math is hard. Oh Barbie, even you can learn.*<br />
<br />
Educating women is fairly historically new, and it's definitely not global. #bringbackourgirls. Unfortunately, when women have gone against the social grain historically there has not been a celebration or a warm reception. The seas do not part. There is often hostility. It is like cutting a new path through tall grass with a machete. Tiring. Sweaty. A horrible stink. Putting forth great effort often looks like a hot mess. You have to be ready for a pretty crappy time. I am not a trailblazer, nor did I sign up for it, but I find in just moving forward in math and science that the path is not well worn by women. I am so thankful for those who I can look ahead and see, like professors and scientists. What about the women who are themselves pioneers and can not see other women ahead of them? Women around the world being the first to get an education in your family. You are amazing. Take my strength. Don't lose heart.<br />
<br />
So I am quoting Margaret Fuller all over the post today. I was introduced to Margaret Fuller in a U.S. literature class in college. She said some pretty profound things in the 1840s. Almost two hundred years later, her quotes resonate. She was an American Transcendentalist who basically said that, of course, every person wants to be an enlightened man; no enlightened man wants to be a women. Why? Because the social position of women has been wife, mother, cook and housekeeper. There was little room for books, philosophy, science and mathematics which involve extended time as well as thought and often a good housekeeper. She was a voice outside of the men's philoshophy club that said, "Hey, I can't find the door." It looks great for the people inside thinking about greater society but what about the greater society that isn't allowed in.<br />
<br />
<i>"In order that she may be able to give her hand with dignity, she must be able to stand alone" - Fuller</i><br />
<br />
So back to the question, "Why aren't there are more women in math and science?" There is definitely not one answer. And the factors work together even though they don't plan to. There are collective forces. To name a few...<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Straight up sexism. Just a girl. I'm just a girl in the world.</li>
<li>Social pressures. Women are marketed for their parts not for their brains. Seriously, marketing parts.</li>
<li>Gender education. Girls play with dolls. Boys build things. </li>
<li>It's challenging. Some sciences are physically challenging as well as mentally challenging. Math is so mental. Letters and numbers, come on.</li>
<li>Discouragement. Possible and probable failure. Struggling for success is tiring.</li>
<li>Loneliness. </li>
<li>Feeling or looking 'different.' Nerd. Geek. A masculine mind.</li>
<li>Role models overshadowed by fad models. I love you Mayim Bailik and Danica McKellar.</li>
<li>People, influential people, telling them the can't or shouldn't. People say dumb things. I am everyday people, btw.</li>
<li>Thinking how teachers or influential people think about them. Women emote and are empathic. People say dumb things or look us in a way that we take to heart even if they are not true. And it collects in our minds and beings.</li>
<li>And of course, the tyranny of the urgent. Somebody has to cook, clean, and help fulfill all the other lower properties of Maslow's hierarchy.</li>
</ul>
<br />
There are barriers both real and imaginary. The barriers are internal and external. Thankfully, times, they are a changin'. Let me be clear, not every girl should grow up to be a scientist or a mathematician, but they should have the opportunity to do so if they wish. If they have the talent, we should encourage them and applaud their development. And it shouldn't be so hard for them to find the door. So, Ladies, young and old, if you want to pursue math and science, getting all STEM like, I'll try to clear a path for you.<br />
<br />
<i>"We would have every arbitrary barrier thrown down. We would have every path laid open to women as freely as to men. If you ask me what offices they may fill, I reply ---any. I do not care what case you put; let them be sea captains." - Fuller</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1k0NZN9Kiuhw-zPc0KLbiwVENu2_hDXqIrsLjcyTM0O-TE22wJeDusg9meaptPKfkHE-9qY4yjizZEt4mGR8utsfMIquDwyA35rrLiBHZom4v3tEwnDEUPhaxJKABSIexsi24DpARXT4O/s1600/WP_001132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1k0NZN9Kiuhw-zPc0KLbiwVENu2_hDXqIrsLjcyTM0O-TE22wJeDusg9meaptPKfkHE-9qY4yjizZEt4mGR8utsfMIquDwyA35rrLiBHZom4v3tEwnDEUPhaxJKABSIexsi24DpARXT4O/s1600/WP_001132.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smart girlios...stay clever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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*Do you want to encourage some science and math in your home but don't know where to start? Try GoldieBlox or Snap Circuits. Buy a microscope or a telescope. Investigate.Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-81701153472329068662014-04-26T23:35:00.000-05:002014-04-26T23:35:30.375-05:00Earth Day 5k ~ The Comeback Race**Not for me<br />
<br />
I needed a comeback race, and since I've been running about a 5k distance without too much irritation a 5k would be great. The weather has been getting better. It's tolerable to be outside, and people have actually been mowing lawns, like my neighbor's whose lawn service comes at 7 am. Awesome.<br />
<br />
The Lindenhurst Park District had a free Earth Day 5k on Saturday morning, and many of my running buddies were going. I thought I could run it and then be back in time for soccer games. A great plan. On the morning of the race two of my girlios woke up early, and as I was getting ready they asked what I was doing within 15 minutes of me walking out the door.<br />
<br />
Me: "I'm going to run a 5k."<br />
<br />
Thing 2: "Can I run?"<br />
<br />
Thing 3: "Me, too."<br />
<br />
Okay, here's the thing about wanting the family to be active. When they want to be active, you have to let them. Like offering them vegetables, you offer and offer, and when they take the bait, you reel them in. Letting them in my races is a sacrifice.<br />
<br />
Me: "You have 15 minutes to get ready, and you still have to show up on the soccer field later"<br />
<br />
Thing 2 and Thing 3: "Okay!"<br />
<br />
Thing 1 wakes up during the getting ready time. When asked if she wants to go she emphatically says she's tired and hates 5ks.<br />
<br />
25 minutes later we are all ready to go.<br />
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When we arrive, we find we are all under-dressed. It looks warm, but it is windy. The girlios cling and whine. I rub goosebumps away and cuddle them. I suppress my whining because I am cold too. I love meeting and greeting my running pals that I haven't seen in so long.<br />
<br />
The race starts, and it is not long before the whining begins. I was hoping to run the first mile. We didn't make it that far before fatigue set in on little legs. Cramps and tight tummies. These girlios have run races before, but this is early in the season. We have had a rough winter inside, and they are not in the condition that they normally are in Spring. Mentally, they remain in end of the Summer, but physically they are in the dead of Winter.<br />
<br />
Thing 2 wanted to cry. I could tell. She chose to whimper and didn't break down into full sobs. Huge self control for her. She held it in looking rather dismal. I walked at a brisk (for me) steady pace reminding them to keep pace. I had calculated the time to get to soccer with my slow race pace not girlio walk pace. We had some time limits. Thing 3 bounced along because she's my Tigger.<br />
<br />
It was hard to be supportive. It was a gorgeous day on the trail and dragging the girlios was not fun. We have done some excellent hikes in the same area, but we were not limited by time. We play. We look at stuff. We dawdle. This day we had to get to the end in a timely manner. I tried so hard to play it cool.<br />
<br />
As we approached the end Thing 2 who had been looking pale and pained, took off running. We ran to catch up, and then Thing 3 pouted out. A.R.G. The tired talk transferred from girlio to girlio. Thing 2 ran all the way to the finish. When asked later why she started running she said, "Because I wanted to be done." She's such a runner. When I suggested to Thing 3 that we run to the end, she took off sprinting. We crossed the finish line in 51 minutes. Just enough time to go home, get changed and head out to soccer games.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_M9TlwQHghz8v32pljw3aDZtn1Rn1OtLIWUxv6iPYLkG0m6cjJUkrSqKI9mXS57sGa2cSOtZRAlOj3VsXhxFvSP8ZNYo-Oj3c3imEiCilnGpsPUa-NBttOmhQHxrIiTrmUhomVvZM5eb/s1600/Aine+running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_M9TlwQHghz8v32pljw3aDZtn1Rn1OtLIWUxv6iPYLkG0m6cjJUkrSqKI9mXS57sGa2cSOtZRAlOj3VsXhxFvSP8ZNYo-Oj3c3imEiCilnGpsPUa-NBttOmhQHxrIiTrmUhomVvZM5eb/s1600/Aine+running.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not a clear representation of her race face. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It wasn't my comeback run. It was a comeback run for my girlios after a long winter. I'll have mine soon, but today was their day. To their credit, they played hard at soccer. They showed up, and both girls scored goals. From the looks on their faces, they are going to sleep well tonight. That's my reward.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPwAkbKIUkeQAPL8tn6F8VAriUUlz0rtk6Pn78aI6jo_sMU5Nww4WYQajpnLLiSlOpiKDBAMRjojwImvhwTcywVsmw8LMYPCVUWWpeuZAxRQ9Ie2uhqxTfB8n5OIcu70eAxNkjjN4Voqr/s1600/iona+running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPwAkbKIUkeQAPL8tn6F8VAriUUlz0rtk6Pn78aI6jo_sMU5Nww4WYQajpnLLiSlOpiKDBAMRjojwImvhwTcywVsmw8LMYPCVUWWpeuZAxRQ9Ie2uhqxTfB8n5OIcu70eAxNkjjN4Voqr/s1600/iona+running.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finishing Strong! Stick a fork in us; we're done.</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-32852557601450801042014-04-15T21:42:00.001-05:002014-04-15T22:47:07.122-05:00T'was the Night Before Easter Cookies and DevotionalLong ago in my MOPS group we got a newsletter that had a recipe for resurrection cookies in it. I tried the recipe and kept it. I loved the idea, but there were a few things I didn't like about the cookie. Like the nuts. And that there was no chocolate. Nice idea, blah cookie.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJba6K4sGDe6jUhr6pfoXz92-2xTKh9soVg5-uyoh1tNWOONUxfoeJBoo4KPNGHBAB_EyD9wON5v5SmwAy6jlgvLm4IkAJWeU0PmJ0dK3P9sIfnAZ_IjC9d9VLAvmay_IU-_ORGd61oVE/s1600/WP_001109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJba6K4sGDe6jUhr6pfoXz92-2xTKh9soVg5-uyoh1tNWOONUxfoeJBoo4KPNGHBAB_EyD9wON5v5SmwAy6jlgvLm4IkAJWeU0PmJ0dK3P9sIfnAZ_IjC9d9VLAvmay_IU-_ORGd61oVE/s1600/WP_001109.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can't be the only person with candy canes left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In our house we try to emphasize Easter as much as Christmas. Birth, death and resurrection of the same Jesus. We do have an in-house egg hunt and give a bigger gift in our yearly recycled Easter baskets. Easter, much like Christmas, has been ridiculously commercialized. Ridiculous. It's easy to be sucked in. I've already put away a fun sized bag of Reese's Eggs. This recipe/devotional is a good reminder of what Easter is about, and if you forgot to start the Resurrection Eggs on the right day you can still cram it in the night before or even during the week.<br />
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My adaptation has a Christmas twist. It's good to read the "Legend of the Candy Cane" too while they are eating them on Easter Sunday. The recipe begins Saturday night.<br />
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<u>Ingredients:</u><br />
<br />
1/2 cup of mints - or leftover candy canes<br />
1/2 chocolate bar<br />
1 teaspoon vinegar<br />
3 egg whites<br />
pinch of salt<br />
3/4 cup sugar<br />
zipper baggie (freezer)<br />
wooden spoon/meat tenderizer/hammer<br />
masking tape<br />
Bible<br />
<br />
<u>Directions and Devotion</u><br />
<br />
1.Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F.<br />
<br />
2. Place the mints and the chocolate bar in the zipper baggie. Let children break them apart using spoon or tenderizer into small pieces. Explain that after Jesus was arrested he was beaten by Roman Soldiers and read <i>John 19: 1-3.</i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dgkMiBZRMnorzu83OhZtgZrp9JBaxQidAQmr8maOTQgbL6emSFuBH9b3vBI5GuQzr9V9tPqOcZd9ECFvKUSmGGv3wQDufe0jSnSwRrbeD2orlaQrCsvBU1oO-belIFdCvynufT8DeoEU/s1600/WP_001110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dgkMiBZRMnorzu83OhZtgZrp9JBaxQidAQmr8maOTQgbL6emSFuBH9b3vBI5GuQzr9V9tPqOcZd9ECFvKUSmGGv3wQDufe0jSnSwRrbeD2orlaQrCsvBU1oO-belIFdCvynufT8DeoEU/s1600/WP_001110.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In bag pre-meat tenderizer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqixu3RCMXp89Nnvlsfovd2urRQ9o4ImR1y3dOh4l_R5YTjSlEEzucflM80vJITduOvWLJe2VWYAF3BINVbUVHxBHHBm8_IZbBAzeODemQ4llkQ51315ycAkoJGldJDIrdAshF2ifa3Sa/s1600/WP_001111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqixu3RCMXp89Nnvlsfovd2urRQ9o4ImR1y3dOh4l_R5YTjSlEEzucflM80vJITduOvWLJe2VWYAF3BINVbUVHxBHHBm8_IZbBAzeODemQ4llkQ51315ycAkoJGldJDIrdAshF2ifa3Sa/s1600/WP_001111.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delish chocolate and peppermint</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
3. Let you children smell the vinegar. Put a teaspoon of vinegar into a large mixing bowl. Explain that when Jesus was thirsty on the cross he was given vinegar to drink and read <i>John 19: 28-30.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
4. Add the egg whites to the vinegar. Eggs represent life. Explain that Jesus gave His life to give us life and read <i>John 10: 10-11.</i><br />
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5. Sprinkle a little salt into each child's hand and let them taste it and brush the rest into the bowl. Explain that this represents the salty tears shed by Jesus's followers, and the bitterness of our own sin. Read <i>Luke 23:27.</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAcxrD9OrzJWdfpO2BPrhYkaah_sauf8BWSaqsF6Kt1Z61O2Jrz1ED_o741XlpmRl3-VW_SXjokidyvz624eo1hrtmqKclDuhEFp_1-UFEoNluqWmY9LZTxCBmCnzt828bJKS9uSm2Wlq2/s1600/WP_001112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAcxrD9OrzJWdfpO2BPrhYkaah_sauf8BWSaqsF6Kt1Z61O2Jrz1ED_o741XlpmRl3-VW_SXjokidyvz624eo1hrtmqKclDuhEFp_1-UFEoNluqWmY9LZTxCBmCnzt828bJKS9uSm2Wlq2/s1600/WP_001112.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salty sweet hands</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
6. So for the ingredients are not very appetizing. Add the sugar to the bowl and explain that the sweetest part of the story is that Jesus died because He loves us. He wants us to know and belong to Him, and then read <i>Psalm 34:8</i> and <i>John 3:16</i>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rtkCgHwBVJTX7r03djh6EsG7ETmu84RocpgcKTEY8vSVVzILmlKQr2cBsmcVllI65T4rEhm7_uexLdI9QAIcq32anBJq7zhxm0XNm8u1fbOuxNNKk-4qZB6APQPCubw3mRxHJUfe3MAZ/s1600/WP_001113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rtkCgHwBVJTX7r03djh6EsG7ETmu84RocpgcKTEY8vSVVzILmlKQr2cBsmcVllI65T4rEhm7_uexLdI9QAIcq32anBJq7zhxm0XNm8u1fbOuxNNKk-4qZB6APQPCubw3mRxHJUfe3MAZ/s1600/WP_001113.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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7. Beat with mixer on high speed for 12-15 minutes until stiff peaks are formed. Explain that the color white represents the purity in God's eyes of those whose sins have been cleansed by Jesus. Read <i>Isaiah 1:18</i> and <i>John 3: 1-3.</i> This is a good time to have them get read for bed, clean up or read the Legend of the Candy Cane. The egg whites have to be stiff.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrtH2PMntxmk3N408cU8FiTbpXZdfwIXacEQeM97pcHPc2DO348YuZziEzaD-VWzZkLPgctw44d3hZfAs9_SWsPTkGH8vD0SW7TWBZ6-NxVTRFnaPFSqguIw_iMivh1gGz2Oag4gN7iiH/s1600/WP_001114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrtH2PMntxmk3N408cU8FiTbpXZdfwIXacEQeM97pcHPc2DO348YuZziEzaD-VWzZkLPgctw44d3hZfAs9_SWsPTkGH8vD0SW7TWBZ6-NxVTRFnaPFSqguIw_iMivh1gGz2Oag4gN7iiH/s1600/WP_001114.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whip it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjES8spYJpbvjk_d7znU1Iaw9BvlOIIQGpPPjAEedrD0pTHeDMIvocl_-0tLg0npOBSzoOpp8rfonrwhNzuf1VKRmr_i7RK8FFK4PzzArew2uC2nDePhmNPYQ-s-XWdiUojp2uO3EfxPgGq/s1600/WP_001115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjES8spYJpbvjk_d7znU1Iaw9BvlOIIQGpPPjAEedrD0pTHeDMIvocl_-0tLg0npOBSzoOpp8rfonrwhNzuf1VKRmr_i7RK8FFK4PzzArew2uC2nDePhmNPYQ-s-XWdiUojp2uO3EfxPgGq/s1600/WP_001115.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whip it good.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
8. Fold in the chocolate and mint pieces.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMAa6SYhduu-5GTCob3WsmST6quMBtd5uLFYPuumzWcHZQs0HGqPJ5FPbMdKI2gEalHE5Yekepx3KhtwAC3Sby89mqRuf7n0TfOEP5NDAhMU0wot5zm1d7pKqmGX1Jqyk9lwdRI2fe6y0/s1600/WP_001118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMAa6SYhduu-5GTCob3WsmST6quMBtd5uLFYPuumzWcHZQs0HGqPJ5FPbMdKI2gEalHE5Yekepx3KhtwAC3Sby89mqRuf7n0TfOEP5NDAhMU0wot5zm1d7pKqmGX1Jqyk9lwdRI2fe6y0/s1600/WP_001118.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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9. Drop by teaspoons onto wax paper covered cookie sheets. Explain that each mound represents the rocky tomb where Jesus's body was laid and read <i>Matthew 27: 57-60</i>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMfj68SXsGijSt0XK95WKhR4xQtKCFXKNjJ2OOE6RFeSvjL8YJAci6_iq07J-vHn9CCVhx4FZjBhjwHwEU8i5aaSLuUKnJvupLU9gsPWpHNrnqq60C-Pv1IcQDne8SY0J7ND0cV6estjs/s1600/WP_001119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMfj68SXsGijSt0XK95WKhR4xQtKCFXKNjJ2OOE6RFeSvjL8YJAci6_iq07J-vHn9CCVhx4FZjBhjwHwEU8i5aaSLuUKnJvupLU9gsPWpHNrnqq60C-Pv1IcQDne8SY0J7ND0cV6estjs/s1600/WP_001119.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: center;">10. Put cookie sheet in the oven, close the door and turn the oven OFF. Give each child a piece of tape and seal the oven door. Explain that Jesus's tomb was sealed and read </span><i style="text-align: center;">Matthew 27: 65-66</i><span style="text-align: center;">.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5ufZ7iu1__0qARUz-eKytmtIAB6eDuQK-Q85MCYEAVbaOwHtQ9ItT8Xlu0kJpgYBYS4iJQHuzSZMZoY90omksXtGdonerXKl336wl3SBPhdrXcXJavwv-Yzm2g6ct_dOMLELbcGt5yQ2/s1600/WP_001120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5ufZ7iu1__0qARUz-eKytmtIAB6eDuQK-Q85MCYEAVbaOwHtQ9ItT8Xlu0kJpgYBYS4iJQHuzSZMZoY90omksXtGdonerXKl336wl3SBPhdrXcXJavwv-Yzm2g6ct_dOMLELbcGt5yQ2/s1600/WP_001120.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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11. Explain that they may feel sad to leave the cookies in the oven overnight. Jesus' followers were in despair when the tomb were sealed and read <i>John 16: 20, 22</i>. Send the kids off to bed and eat the other half of the chocolate bar as you prepare for the rest of the possible chaos on Easter Sunday.<br />
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12. On Easter morning, open the oven door and give everyone a cookie. Notice the cracked surface and take a bite. The cookies should be hollow. He has risen! On the first Easter morning, Jesus's followers were amazed to find the tomb open and empty. Read <i>Matthew 28: 1-9</i>.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbHVOnq5Hagg9R5kP_-dqqJYZHJM3_0QIcw_rsqOj4qZ1nS5PeDrU4lDXspYUVgxG-MF_W8f9FhmGioBgUybxl4UC660x5yuagtQprpjcJKWl2-HTFLzoRRiaCIEkO2xEF74Y-gXoJFFab/s1600/WP_001123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbHVOnq5Hagg9R5kP_-dqqJYZHJM3_0QIcw_rsqOj4qZ1nS5PeDrU4lDXspYUVgxG-MF_W8f9FhmGioBgUybxl4UC660x5yuagtQprpjcJKWl2-HTFLzoRRiaCIEkO2xEF74Y-gXoJFFab/s1600/WP_001123.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Christmas Easter cookie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-68335069644522328172014-04-06T21:58:00.000-05:002014-04-06T21:58:12.788-05:00Spring Roll, Sweet ChariotI can't help it. As soon as I say "Spring Roll," I want to sing..<br />
<br />
Spring roll,<br />
Sweet chariot<br />
Coming forth to carry me home...<br />
<br />
Tasty bundles. Easy to make and made to order. As a gluten free gal these days, I've been looking for more meals everybody in the house can and will eat. Making multiple meals is a hassle.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVXZr6CK0WRdoN3pORyohyphenhyphenI4nCfaH1GND8RU-Squv-QmiPsGo2_OiMZiC8vuvrgTb4QAeMOHTbMDEHe5hW-oT1bela4prJ-Z01Y7eKBIuG4CixDVPco82YMoXgVcEI8gr7BcNEUqejYyki/s1600/WP_001100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVXZr6CK0WRdoN3pORyohyphenhyphenI4nCfaH1GND8RU-Squv-QmiPsGo2_OiMZiC8vuvrgTb4QAeMOHTbMDEHe5hW-oT1bela4prJ-Z01Y7eKBIuG4CixDVPco82YMoXgVcEI8gr7BcNEUqejYyki/s1600/WP_001100.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I ate way more than this. This is just the pretty picture.</td></tr>
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I bought circular and square spring rolls wraps. After looking at a few recipes, I decided to use some of the vegetables I had in the house. We didn't have Thai basil or lime. We'll try those another day.<br />
<br />
Our ingredients:<br />
-strips of carrots<br />
-strips of cucumber<br />
-strips of orange pepper<br />
-romaine lettuce strips<br />
-an egg omelet cut into strips<br />
-rings of green onion<br />
-leaves of cilantro<br />
-brown rice vermicelli soaked in boiling water for 5 minutes and drained. A tablespoon of hoisin sauce added and cut up to fit easily into the rolls<br />
-cut up cooked chicken (We added this tonight)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTtVMzbR9jFZPwAHig45B_jjxlzObK6jFWZPys32Tb36z-TPkOcewNiqaV3RvjkIufM8m_6IoJabL4HU0e9_GixQ1aeKMOw4Os1PmjvHjXWNJb7FUVmp_8exlXAbSxmWNRUgGhKAbfWns/s1600/WP_001098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTtVMzbR9jFZPwAHig45B_jjxlzObK6jFWZPys32Tb36z-TPkOcewNiqaV3RvjkIufM8m_6IoJabL4HU0e9_GixQ1aeKMOw4Os1PmjvHjXWNJb7FUVmp_8exlXAbSxmWNRUgGhKAbfWns/s1600/WP_001098.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It took some prep, but it was worth it.</td></tr>
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Really, add whatever you want and will eat. I made the sauce in a pan whisking on a low heat until smooth.<br />
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The Sauce:<br />
-a tablespoon of peanut butter<br />
-two tablespoons of hoisin sauce<br />
-a tablespoon of soy sauce<br />
-water to thin<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDBLZDp5cy9vnYBcP4VnJEINXLVjRLTE72UCFI1ZRip2VqiXE386MreqboBm7hBIXLU92ewUwzvnksCx-hBpwyB8XCh_RUxHup_Bm0Ohyphenhyphen3GRZQnDk8qPMiaHbUI2dGsi29WQzzTjOVUPn/s1600/WP_001102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDBLZDp5cy9vnYBcP4VnJEINXLVjRLTE72UCFI1ZRip2VqiXE386MreqboBm7hBIXLU92ewUwzvnksCx-hBpwyB8XCh_RUxHup_Bm0Ohyphenhyphen3GRZQnDk8qPMiaHbUI2dGsi29WQzzTjOVUPn/s1600/WP_001102.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy for little hands</td></tr>
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With clean hands the kids can make them to order. Soak the wraps in warm water for 5 seconds or so. We had to replace the water every once in a while because it got cold. Place wrap on a plate and working quickly add your filling. The wrap will get soft on the plate. Fold, wrap and roll. Eat, dip and enjoy. Repeat until everything is gone or everybody is full.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ78sgvGJc9nB2cobWyUJa3VO-jNXLtbMkqYtuRz1m4CsSW6M2pWAE6ru2wv3po7lQnpK6l0S6EgRu_g3xcf-5R9Uv4XVwRSSUh_bDOkcEotY6OwNs_3N64ZynfOJUjRcGEz99HKIQVI8/s1600/WP_001101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ78sgvGJc9nB2cobWyUJa3VO-jNXLtbMkqYtuRz1m4CsSW6M2pWAE6ru2wv3po7lQnpK6l0S6EgRu_g3xcf-5R9Uv4XVwRSSUh_bDOkcEotY6OwNs_3N64ZynfOJUjRcGEz99HKIQVI8/s1600/WP_001101.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soaking, eating and enjoying</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-24111896966230332652014-04-05T20:46:00.002-05:002014-04-06T21:04:42.448-05:00Standing at the end of my longest run of the yearI finished a 5K today. Not a race, a distance and a hurdle.<br />
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Last weekend was the Shamrock Shuffle. This week was the Lincoln Half Marathon. The South Shore Half Marathon was today. The Cary Half is over. Four weeks until the Wisconsin Half. I won't be able to run the Wisconsin Half like I wanted. It's coming too soon and I am recovering too slowly. I normally gauge my year on the race calendar. I've been a little taken aback about how fast it has passed me by. I found myself sad about it.<br />
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This winter I have been in PT, and I needed to be there. How I was running was not sustainable. Weaknesses in some places were showing up in others. My feet and ankles were locking. Tight calves. Painful tendons. Picking up marbles with my toes was difficult and painful. Little muscles I willed to work did not move.<br />
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And as I've seen friends post training, races and successes, I felt left behind. I'm not looking for pity. I'm just emoting. This winter has been a winter I really needed running. It is one thing to do a litany of exercises in your living room and another thing to run outside under the open sky. I do have some degree of SAD and running through the winter has always helped. The snow-cold-snow sandwich all winter long took its toll.<br />
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We've also been in the process of an adoption. The flurry of paperwork, the hurry up and wait, and the bureaucracy is numbing. I can't tell you all the details at the moment, but we are on the roller coaster portion, and I don't think I'm strapped in tight enough. Off balance and queasy. I've needed the run.<br />
<br />
There is other paperwork from classes to grants to applications to more classes that have bogged me down. I go to bed thinking about what I still have to do and wake up with a list in hand. A run has typically cleared my head. This post came together on my run. I work through stuff on my run.<br />
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Our homeschool group temporarily dissolved this Spring. We no longer meet three times a month. I miss my running friends. I can't run with them. I work most nights, and I hate the phone. It's been a lonely winter. I see friends, but not with the same regularity. It takes more effort, and I'm already tired.<br />
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Somewhere along the way, I've also lost trust in myself as a runner. I feel weak and soft. I gave up gluten this year too. Then I went back on and discovered I should probably stay off. On the plus side I have a lot of new recipes and can drink coffee for the first time in my life. I haven't gained much weight, but I've lost muscle and endurance. Doing my large muscle exercises now after working on my small muscles shows me how much I've lost.<br />
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I sound depressed. It was depressing at times. For so long, running, not just physical exercise, has been my body's balance. Being physically tired as well as mentally tired helps me sleep. Being truly hungry rather than emotionally hungry helps me distinguish between the two. The outdoors reminds me that the world is bigger than the one I've constructed inside my head. Starting back at the beginning of anything is humbling, and if it teeters on humiliating it is even harder to begin again.<br />
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I've been encouraged along the way too. Matt Long's book, The Long Run, is so very inspirational. The president of our running club, Lupe, was nice enough to get me his autograph when she was at the Boston Marathon a few years ago.I keep it by my bed. It says, "Long May You Run." Matt was one of the first responders at 911, and he was also was in a horrible horrible accident. He scars are real, and his journey to a new normal was raw. I love it when people chose to be amazing.<br />
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During another point where I was throwing myself a pity party for healing so slowly I read about Sally Kipyego, the 2012 Olympian, and her slow but steady recovery. She won the Silver medal in the 10,000 meter and when she started back from her foot fracture she ran one minute and walked 10 minutes. Like in Chutes and Ladders, she went down the big slide and had to start the long slow steady journey back. Her quote. "You let your body tell you. It will let you know exactly what's happening" encouraged me to listen and lay low until the time was right. To be a better listener.<br />
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Running is different now. I can't relax and enjoy it. I pay attention to my foot fall, almost every strike. My feet have to roll differently now. It takes time to build muscle memory, to break old habits and to build new ones. How about my calves? Are they too tight? What are my ankles doing? Knees? Quads? Back? Push off? I realized I couldn't run very long because I can't hold my form properly for any more than a short distance. I am constantly listening.<br />
<br />
Next week may be my last week of PT and my physical therapist, who is great, told me I could do three miles. I wasn't sure I could do it. What if I couldn't? One step forward and two steps back. Sometimes the fear of success has to be overcome. I texted two friends to see if they would run with me. Running with other runners would be another victory on the journey. However, they were unavailable. I had to put my shoes on and prove myself to myself.<br />
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It was a beautiful day. The sun. The wind. My focus on my stride. Occasionally forgetting about my stride. Focusing again on my stride.Wondering about my stubbornness to do some exercises. My tunes. Enjoying Beck's "Loser" and Journey's "Don't Stop Believing". Skipping Pink's "Let's Get This Party Started." This run was no party. Around mile two I heard fatigue getting closer and had to work on keeping proper stride. Katy Perry's "Roar." A friend on a walk tried to start a conversation with a quarter mile to go, and I had to wave her off. This run was important, and it was important for me to finish. I've been contemplating signing up for a 5K, but I had to prove to myself that I could run that distance. A comeback race. This was a comeback run.<br />
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I finished my 5K in about 34 minutes, and I cried. I cried in my cool-down walk. I have to do those now as well as a warm-up walk. I must have looked like a hot mess walking home. I was a hot mess with my chin up. It was a cry that bubbled up from a place that was healing too. A victory. A renewed trust.<br />
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-87061615645030502392014-03-26T22:00:00.001-05:002014-03-26T22:00:30.479-05:00Would you consider...?In looking at our homestudy date this week, I noticed that I've (we've) been paper pregnant for a year. Being paper pregnant has been different than being biologically pregnant. I feel quite honored to have had the opportunity to be both. One of the things that is noticeably different is the ability to make decisions about the child you would like to adopt. My bio girlios just came out and, boom, I get what I get and I don't throw a fit. When adopting, there are some hard questions to answer. And working to decide is difficult. Here are some thing to consider:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Would you consider adopting a child?</li>
<li>Would you consider sharing your life, your family and your resources?</li>
<li>Would you consider the time, perhaps years or more, to create attachment?</li>
<li>Would you consider adopting an older child?</li>
<li>Would you consider adopting a younger child?</li>
<li>Would you consider adopting out of birth order?</li>
<li>Would you consider a child with a heart problem when you're not sure about the severity of the condition?</li>
<li>Would you consider a child who is deaf or blind?</li>
<li>Would you consider a child who has mobility issues?</li>
<li>Would you consider a child with a genetic disorder?</li>
<li>Would you consider a boy instead a girl or a girl instead a boy?</li>
<li>Would you consider a child who has been in institutional care for some time and is delayed?</li>
<li>Would you consider a child who has mental difficulties?</li>
<li>Would you consider that your adoptive child may have issues that will not be manifested for years?</li>
<li>Would you consider different parenting tactics to build attachment?</li>
<li>Would you consider changing your mind?</li>
<li>Would you consider being flexible?</li>
<li>Would you consider changing your plans or putting your life on hold since you don't know when your child is coming or how old he/she is or what his/her issues are?</li>
<li>Would you consider how much you have to open your heart and your life?</li>
</ul>
<div>
These are just a handful of the tough questions surrounding adoption. Decisions have to be made. It's almost too much control, or too much of a false sense of control, in a situation that has so many variables. We are thankful for all the people who have gone before us because our journey isn't over yet. Even after all the questions, we still feel that adoption is something to consider. Seriously consider.</div>
Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-26629559291671330722014-03-25T23:26:00.000-05:002014-03-25T23:30:37.512-05:003.14 Ways to Improve Your Mathematical IntuitionWhen I went back to school to get my math endorsement, my teachers in several classes asked us to use our 'mathematical intuition'. The term caused me to furrow my brow. What is mathematical intuition?<br />
<br />
I knew of intuition. Merrill-Webster defines it as <i>a natural ability or power that makes it possible to know something without proof or evidence, a feeling that guides a person to act a certain way without fully understanding why or something that is known or understood without proof or evidence.</i> Going with your gut. Your first instinct. You have a feeling. A sixth sense. Back when I was in the pre-married world and dating, people would tell me, "When you know, you know."* People trust their intuition.<br />
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The part of definition that says "without proof or evidence" seems like a contradiction to mathematics. However, after taking a few courses, I understood better what mathematical intuition is. It's building a trust in your own mathematical abilities. In the past we've used words like 'reason' or 'common sense,' but those do not encompass the feeling of confidence that people should have in math and their ability to do math. "That answer feels wrong." "Something doesn't add up." "Something has gone awry." Having good mathematical intuition helps you see when the math isn't right. And with math all around us - life is a story problem- being able to trust your mathematical intuition is important.<br />
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So here are <b>3.14</b> ways to improve your mathematical intuition:<br />
<br />
<b>1. Recognize Patterns:</b> A key part of mathematics and the applied mathematics all around you is recognizing patterns. I'm one of those people who looks at how gas prices move and wonders what was going on in the geopolitical world that caused the movement. I look at big patterns. When are milk prices the lowest during the year? When are certain vegetables in season? How much is packaging and product shrinking? There are also small patterns. How fast do my girlios grow through shoes? How many times does my dog have to bark before someone let's him out? How many calories am I eating daily? We recognize patterns in people's and animal's behavior. Start recognizing patterns in numerical behavior. There is no need to obsess in the patterns. Just recognize them and their anomalies.<br />
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<b>2. Estimate: </b>In order to guess better guess often. On the days that we go grocery shopping together, my husband and I over/under the bill. Guess on how much gasoline will fill the tank. Guess on how many steps to the mailbox. Guess on how long it will take you to get to work or school. Guess how much that new phone will cost with its down payment and installments. Make those numbers real. When I was in my science education classes in college I read about the Nobel Prize physicist Richard Feynman.** After Richard and his father read about T-Rex's height in the encyclopedia Richard's father explained to Richard that the dinosaur's head would fit through their second story window. I loved that. Richard's father was making the numbers real. Estimating not only can be used for guessing answers. It can also be used to show ratios, to equate values, to make numbers tangible and to build mathematical intuition.<br />
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<b>3.</b> <b>Try and Err:</b> To build some trust in your mathematical intuition, you have to test your mathematical intuition. Just like your regular intuition builds off of what you have already experienced, your mathematical intuition needs some experience. Positive experience. I do a lot of math tutoring on white boards. Why? Because white boards are forgiving. Easy to erase. People have a hard time making mistakes and getting past them. In math, you may have to make a lot of mistakes before getting it right. And when you get it right, you probably won't trust yourself until you have done it enough to feel comfortable with it. This may take some time. Just like breaking bad habits and replacing them with good habits takes repetition so does building your mathematical intuition.<br />
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<b>0.14...Don't Fear Fractions: </b>Fractions may not become your friends, but they are necessary. We use them in money without a second thought. A quarter really is a quarter of a dollar, 1/4. Cents are one hundredths. Decimals, which seem to make people much more comfortable, are really fractions in disguise. Decimals are fractions hiding in a base ten system. You often buy things in fractions without knowing it. Milk is sold by the gallon. Meat and vegetables are sold by the pound. Gasoline is sold by the gallon. Those are all fractions. Yes, the word 'denominator' seems like it has the word 'demon' in it, but it doesn't.<br />
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Good luck improving your mathematical intuition. Have your pi and eat it too.<br />
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<br />
<i>*That always caused me to furrow my brow too. 50% of marriages end in divorce. Should I trust my 'know'? Statistically, intuition didn't seem very trustworthy, and yet people often trust it wholeheartedly. There are times when my normal intuition and mathematical intuition collide.</i><br />
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<i>** Richard Feynman's books are fantastic. He's writes well and is very down to earth.</i>Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-28431668875345113682014-03-13T22:31:00.000-05:002014-03-13T22:31:45.090-05:00"Mom, can I have cuddle time?"I got up early this morning, and there were things on my mind. When things weight heavily, I don't sleep well, and it is just easier to get up and get on with it. I had fallen behind on a few things. The list was growing and registration for grad classes where seats are very competitive started today.<br />
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When I walk down the stairs in the morning, I am keenly aware that this is not only my home, but it is also where I work. I can't really escape it. Since I consider myself a poor homemaker, I often feel the burden to organize and tidy without the real motivation. This morning I felt some motivation, and I wanted to run with it. I was in task mode.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, my girlios got an early morning wake-up call too. Getting things done early was slow. I wanted to move from task to task trying to check off 'to do' items. The girlios didn't get the same agenda or the same motivation. My frustration was mounting. It wasn't going the way I had hoped.<br />
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My littlest began getting clingy, holding on to my leg. Quietly, she said, "Mom, can I have cuddle time?" I looked around my cluttered house. I could see everything that had to get done. Surrounded by a 'to do' list. I live where I work. I work where I live. "Mom, when is cuddle time?"<br />
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It's now.<br />
<br />
Now.<br />
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The urgent was done. The rest can wait. I surrender my list. I live here. This is my most important work.<br />
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-57359442062332487772014-03-10T15:42:00.001-05:002014-03-10T15:43:10.033-05:0010 things I didn't miss about not running this winterTomorrow I get to take my running gear to PT and run my first mile since Jan 1. I am so excited. Yesterday, I went to the store with my lists from the American Academy of Podiatric Sports Medicine and tried on neutral shoes with my new inserts. I found a New Balance pair I like. Shh. Don't tell my Asics. The weather is beautiful here today, and I'm ready to go.<br />
<br />
Since it looks like Spring will actually come I thought I would run down the list of 10 things I didn't miss about being sidelined this winter.<br />
<br />
<b>1</b>. <b>Getting out of my warm bed</b>. My bed and I have been very friendly this winter. It has been there for me in my grief. Love my bed.<br />
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<b>2</b>. <b>Getting ready in the dark</b>. After getting out of a warm bed, trying to get my clothes together for the right temperature because I didn't plan properly and trying to be quiet all in the dark is a bummer.<br />
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<b>3</b>. <b>Running in the dark</b>. Headlights are cool for a while, but I long for the sun. I love watching the sunrise on a morning run. That doesn't really happen in the winter at the times I can run.<br />
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<b>4</b>. <b>The first 15 minutes of winter running</b>. It's cold out there. I always give myself 15 minutes in the winter to warm up. Run at least 15 minutes. I normally run longer, but the first 15 minutes have been awful at times.<br />
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<b>5</b>. <b>Doing cold weather laundry</b>. There is a lot of cold weather running clothes, and since they are all soaked there is a lot of laundry to do if I run about three times a week. Those clothes have to be cleaned fast too. They are stinky.<br />
<br />
<b>6</b>. <b>Coming back from my run and making a meal in my dirty running clothes before I shower</b>. This happens more than I'd like to admit. I fit in my running before my husband goes to work or after he gets home before dinner. Since I am the meal planner, I often am cooking while "cooling down." Less than ideal, but got the run in.<br />
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7. <b>My hands turning white and being so painful after my run.</b> It's a circulation problem. I get that. Trying to figure out the right gloves and keeping my hands at the right temperature has been a constant winter struggle.<br />
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<b>8. Overeating the calories I just burned</b>. A few years ago when I did Weight Watchers between girlios, I realized that I had to run for 30 minutes to burn off two Girl Scout cookies. After running, I become a ravenous beast. Granted, I feel like my bum has expanded with the winter, but I have also been more aware of calories in and calories out.<br />
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<b>9. Drinking really cold water on my run</b>. Brain freeze. I drink room temperature water on a daily basis. Super brain freeze.<br />
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<b>10. Sweaty hair-sicles</b>. It's my signature winter running look. I produce sweat. It drips down my hair. It freezes. Eeww.<br />
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Honestly, this list was hard to come up with. There are so many more things I miss about running, even winter running, that I can't wait. I don't run for speed or distance. I run because I love it. It makes me feel strong and healthy. And it takes me outside. Wish me luck tomorrow.<br />
<br />
To many more miles...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39VZkE_p8Jo_63xbGRxe1nhK40oXcUXAebJyr4C_r7AMxxAhEKMT3Bo8rQKtCAfEd_FEnSZSpJzpYq-RXSbHpK23ZnuxvTFGVTIqUD3loqSznCIjFusx8gm6PhCjZKwYqd42lFYztZ7PQ/s1600/WP_001050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39VZkE_p8Jo_63xbGRxe1nhK40oXcUXAebJyr4C_r7AMxxAhEKMT3Bo8rQKtCAfEd_FEnSZSpJzpYq-RXSbHpK23ZnuxvTFGVTIqUD3loqSznCIjFusx8gm6PhCjZKwYqd42lFYztZ7PQ/s1600/WP_001050.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Shoes!</td></tr>
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<br />Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-39356024097716863832014-02-28T10:35:00.002-06:002014-02-28T10:35:42.786-06:00The Waiting Place<div style="text-align: center;">
"You can get so confused</div>
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that you'll start in a race</div>
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down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace</div>
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and grind on a miles across weirdish wild space,</div>
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headed, I fear, toward most useless place.</div>
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The Waiting Place...</div>
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<br /></div>
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...for people just waiting.</div>
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Waiting for a train to go</div>
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or a bus to come, or a plane to go</div>
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or the mail to come, or the rain to go</div>
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or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow</div>
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or waiting around for a Yes or No</div>
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or waiting for their hair to grow.</div>
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Everyone is just waiting.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Waiting for the fish to bite</div>
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or waiting for the wind to fly a kite</div>
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or waiting around for Friday night</div>
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or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake</div>
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or a pot to boil, or a Better Break</div>
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or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants</div>
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or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.</div>
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Everyone is just waiting"</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
- Oh, the Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss</div>
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I don't pray for patience. I don't pray for patience because there is only one way to learn patience. It involves waiting. And waiting involves giving up control.<br />
<br />
This winter has been a particularly good lesson in waiting. In Chiberia we have had the repeated snow-cold-snow sandwich since November. Often we hope for a snow fall before or around Thanksgiving. This year there were three snowfalls before Thanksgiving, and there has been some form of precipitation every 72 hours. I, like so many, am waiting for the weather to break. For Spring. For above freezing temperatures. It, however, is out of my control, so I wait. Waiting.<br />
<br />
Two other factors in my life have made this the Waiting Winter. I'm waiting to heal, and I am waiting for our son. I have not run since Jan 1st. Tomorrow is March 1st. This make me sad. Thankfully, the weather has not been cooperative, but it doesn't still take away my desire to run. The healing road has been long, and although it is fruitful, there is still a distance to go. Just waiting.<br />
<br />
I am also waiting to meet our son. Waiting for a match. Our dossier is filed, and I am paper pregnant. Unlike my past pregnancies, I don't know what I'm having or when I'm having it. I don't know how old my son will be, and therefore I can't plan. I don't know when I will meet him or what he looks like. It's completely out of my hands. I wait and pray. So much waiting.<br />
<br />
Waiting wears on me. I think it wears on everyone. I have friends who are also in the Waiting Place. They are going through tough times, and they are waiting for change or relief. It can't come fast enough, and it feels like it isn't coming at all.<br />
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So what perspective can I offer as I see the forecast for snow again this weekend? Hope. There has to be hope or waiting will wear me away. Hope offers minor relief and gives me strength to endure. The two days of above freezing weather when the sun shone remind me that Spring will come. It may take its own sweet time, but it will come.<br />
<br />
My physical therapist asks me every week how I am doing and how my pain is. Although I can't run yet, I notice change. Last night I extended my foot in bed, and it didn't hurt. That's progress. The exercises I do at PT are often painful and take a lot of concentration. It's exhausting. And the exercises seem so trivial, but they are paying off. I got my inserts this week, and my physical therapist said I could run in two weeks. An end in sight. Hope. Strength to endure.<br />
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As far as our adoption. I am thankful for the woman at the agency who is working on our behalf. It is in her capable hands, and I have hope in that. I also have a full life plate right now. Distraction can be another form of hope. It reminds me that one thing does not have to be a consuming focal point. If I wait for the pot to boil, so to speak, I will miss out on all the other things around me. I don't have control over it anyway so I try not to worry about it. Distractions. Breaking up the waiting.<br />
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I'm also not alone in the Waiting Place. It is so easy to feel alone here. I'm not alone, and all it takes is a little vulnerability to find someone else was sitting next to me all along. Community. Yes, there is a temptation for group complaining. Misery does love company, but there is also a great opportunity to build one another up and encourage each other forward. Eyes ahead. Chin up. Arms locked. Waiting together. There is hope and strength.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Somehow you'll escape</div>
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all that waiting and staying.</div>
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You'll find the bright places</div>
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where Boom Bands are playing"</div>
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-Dr. Seuss</div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-hOZxCDXfRfe7qigMJQCIXw8f9_gea4t-PiywXTnhk0UsdrdOytlSOEbEL78HXI7PhhPSYQEIfFZT0onJ2nUW2ozCCIzBN7D8u8qxe4SNvmR1d6g_XJ1EnUauyi_C0Dy9xInQrTutNBvV/s1600/WP_001036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-hOZxCDXfRfe7qigMJQCIXw8f9_gea4t-PiywXTnhk0UsdrdOytlSOEbEL78HXI7PhhPSYQEIfFZT0onJ2nUW2ozCCIzBN7D8u8qxe4SNvmR1d6g_XJ1EnUauyi_C0Dy9xInQrTutNBvV/s1600/WP_001036.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To all the waiters, I wish us Boom Bands.</td></tr>
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Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4186071377310220339.post-60528879640962348852014-02-20T15:30:00.000-06:002014-02-20T16:01:53.126-06:00Honey, I made you a hat!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
My husband has been wearing a hat around the house. Why? Because we keep the house cold, and he doesn't have that much hair. I had been making arm scarves like mad, and he said, "I wish I had a warm hat to wear around the house." Arm scarves take about an hour. My kind of craft is done quickly. "A hat, you say?" That takes actually knitting skill. "I'll make you a hat," said I. We scoured about for a pattern I could handle (<a href="http://www.favecrafts.com/Knit-Hats-Gloves-Scarves/Mens-Hat-and-Scarf-Knitting-Pattern/ct/1">men's hat</a>), and I got some cozy full thick yarn (<a href="http://lionbrand.com/">wool-ease thick & quick oatmea</a>l). Then the fun began. I was trying to get it done by Valentine's Day, but it took me a little longer. I had to learn what the pattern notations meant, and I restarted it several times to get the hang of it. Learned a lot about knit and purl on this project. I hope it fits B.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH8-MIFQO-5I0lmj5fkB6s7AG0XVgdo4wwtmLTmSLxkWO6PWnoD9mT_jWGOw70bSDY8q80YqZTTHZTiKBMXr6mR6jU93JKx4wWnIrz_ao5I_B-QVm7l6Nxx5m_pOjgT5xt0l_GcWYlu1b/s1600/WP_000990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH8-MIFQO-5I0lmj5fkB6s7AG0XVgdo4wwtmLTmSLxkWO6PWnoD9mT_jWGOw70bSDY8q80YqZTTHZTiKBMXr6mR6jU93JKx4wWnIrz_ao5I_B-QVm7l6Nxx5m_pOjgT5xt0l_GcWYlu1b/s1600/WP_000990.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too big for these needles</td></tr>
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About a quarter of the way through I had to get round needles because it wouldn't fit on my straight needles anymore. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxZ-mN6hT2nxUxsVYm9zzBaeFot6tylJ_tRg_2B3keQlJ8qp6kpIg-GYlndXZ3dAP2NU7BioBE63yLT8XMaQysqEQfiRIHI2rJovOi6tK6w0SeI63gx9cYuOdm3HZrpKQy6UnFZy1F8UO/s1600/WP_000998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxZ-mN6hT2nxUxsVYm9zzBaeFot6tylJ_tRg_2B3keQlJ8qp6kpIg-GYlndXZ3dAP2NU7BioBE63yLT8XMaQysqEQfiRIHI2rJovOi6tK6w0SeI63gx9cYuOdm3HZrpKQy6UnFZy1F8UO/s1600/WP_000998.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to sew it together. I looks a little big...</td></tr>
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The result - a big warm huge hat. I hope he has a big enough melon to fit into it. It definitely is warm. He didn't say anything about it fitting.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktx6YPSdwbZPRzz4vEJxmWIc-0WKEB86qDOFnZmB3RDr4Lun9WGo77ffa0_4cTrkl7IsCbZeVCs6IWgOIx4i1Ig5tHzn3t1alv6TD8QaZHVYIRB7ZkOpHEnQzUhPL7T4wDqzD4FjsI6E-/s1600/WP_001000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktx6YPSdwbZPRzz4vEJxmWIc-0WKEB86qDOFnZmB3RDr4Lun9WGo77ffa0_4cTrkl7IsCbZeVCs6IWgOIx4i1Ig5tHzn3t1alv6TD8QaZHVYIRB7ZkOpHEnQzUhPL7T4wDqzD4FjsI6E-/s1600/WP_001000.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your Honor, I just followed the directions.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2doPDhrRnsqvaXIsL-sXgcTClKW8Ekg2fWPgtA7xbUOsghaDrViveVDgV9pAuvgJwaZ6Mjerdvx7KUWndyYMV5hZD5vkN5-LYp1ZNIuwO0h2NsD8FBdl9LFoNJVqSAk83LzhD-6eDvAGz/s1600/WP_001001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2doPDhrRnsqvaXIsL-sXgcTClKW8Ekg2fWPgtA7xbUOsghaDrViveVDgV9pAuvgJwaZ6Mjerdvx7KUWndyYMV5hZD5vkN5-LYp1ZNIuwO0h2NsD8FBdl9LFoNJVqSAk83LzhD-6eDvAGz/s1600/WP_001001.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost stitched up</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgIC1dmP6ETlCOvEUZBVeis3SaBk1FIRjaEhiWN4N8iZtACAkL4OlI6pOqcTnFjsYpbWZaSkOCTjQX5aeg69HnoJNnhnO9jsnkmrLICqqnhBSx8h3T-L2yqSuiqPNCu61jW2QYKI8R-eR/s1600/WP_001002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgIC1dmP6ETlCOvEUZBVeis3SaBk1FIRjaEhiWN4N8iZtACAkL4OlI6pOqcTnFjsYpbWZaSkOCTjQX5aeg69HnoJNnhnO9jsnkmrLICqqnhBSx8h3T-L2yqSuiqPNCu61jW2QYKI8R-eR/s1600/WP_001002.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All done</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh3STjS13nMqyhGfLl0kPHgvrFmT0aRBete0fG-VLqu67zZJuah1eJ_TCStjus9bZ2SdPwhQWZoAPWVFN6WqixbCp5YPehK0lLiSHtbwv08QwkGuihAyoouZXUTHTQUxB46C_LJy12VLzS/s1600/WP_001003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh3STjS13nMqyhGfLl0kPHgvrFmT0aRBete0fG-VLqu67zZJuah1eJ_TCStjus9bZ2SdPwhQWZoAPWVFN6WqixbCp5YPehK0lLiSHtbwv08QwkGuihAyoouZXUTHTQUxB46C_LJy12VLzS/s1600/WP_001003.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everybody has to try it on.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T5AlMgTigyhsTFOUXgmQ9TCbrB9-vvZlg4nT6t_cm7uWn9L7mWlQNm1SjjjHKeaql8eKNDHcLFgU6JAH32eucho8WXHeboujMQMiHK9Gxu2etw7T043HzHG6sEB6mE53K4jE4vGQDSnc/s1600/WP_001006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T5AlMgTigyhsTFOUXgmQ9TCbrB9-vvZlg4nT6t_cm7uWn9L7mWlQNm1SjjjHKeaql8eKNDHcLFgU6JAH32eucho8WXHeboujMQMiHK9Gxu2etw7T043HzHG6sEB6mE53K4jE4vGQDSnc/s1600/WP_001006.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still looks a little big</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSWZxQFdeuhPwogQa-knRlWBoyRy9oSM11t4SFdgLkkDMWlep4S3PXKpqjwkSfpxg0ksSGU7W3AboC5UdNH1SdanowZpTBmaf1B-7cnfLrhH3tw6GMJ77KsN7tRj9xLyjaRy3EIiGR8HQ/s1600/WP_001007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSWZxQFdeuhPwogQa-knRlWBoyRy9oSM11t4SFdgLkkDMWlep4S3PXKpqjwkSfpxg0ksSGU7W3AboC5UdNH1SdanowZpTBmaf1B-7cnfLrhH3tw6GMJ77KsN7tRj9xLyjaRy3EIiGR8HQ/s1600/WP_001007.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is really really warm.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Try on your hat, Honey!</div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9qTe2LVbsUBLb7Q9XvPVZ0A5v0X9A8TbuufshxNtG_NYu7LBvHTHo0zC_foZR4yCcaxkblZO1tXKpeW38gFEgPHrFOlRVY-EZ5pOEEgHugWDYYptPkMxcuuR7qnGH04o1qJ2uYv0olFKz/s1600/WP_001012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9qTe2LVbsUBLb7Q9XvPVZ0A5v0X9A8TbuufshxNtG_NYu7LBvHTHo0zC_foZR4yCcaxkblZO1tXKpeW38gFEgPHrFOlRVY-EZ5pOEEgHugWDYYptPkMxcuuR7qnGH04o1qJ2uYv0olFKz/s1600/WP_001012.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, it's not for the guy on Fat Albert. (It could be)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1N5DcnMLEXYr_pJeOYIp4oJxn2amzsTNrS_qYJzYt7OCwnE-On2eI6JgQCmFwKl4CxC9Gpp_opLsJMjtWsb0J3y1YpkAYfm-7v1CkbRc4Vvq-T7RG5e0_DNUntYwuy3G8lEgr65Yigc5p/s1600/WP_001009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1N5DcnMLEXYr_pJeOYIp4oJxn2amzsTNrS_qYJzYt7OCwnE-On2eI6JgQCmFwKl4CxC9Gpp_opLsJMjtWsb0J3y1YpkAYfm-7v1CkbRc4Vvq-T7RG5e0_DNUntYwuy3G8lEgr65Yigc5p/s1600/WP_001009.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, it's warm. Hot even. :)</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Riyantihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04744285017659154919noreply@blogger.com0