tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14735463008867658442024-03-13T20:24:43.346-07:00AmberPdiditNot sure what this space will be now, but I'll probably run again.aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.comBlogger452125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-48463463525073294602018-01-30T15:48:00.000-08:002018-01-30T15:50:05.049-08:00The Way Car Buying Should(n't) be*<div class="MsoPlainText">
I am in the lobby of Carmax selling my first grown up
car. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I bought it in 2007 when I was converted to full time at
my first biotech job. The
summer before I went to work at my current job. When I finally decided to jump
into the world of dating- didn't start well. Just before I joined team in
training - which was such a fun experience and a huge boost to my mental health
and the reason why I started this blog.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Because it was so entwined in
the fun and excitement of my early 20's you'd think I would be sad to see it go
but I am not. It was such a poor financial decision and I felt almost coerced
into or like I had gotten myself tied up into buying it. I was so ashamed of
the financial pickle I'd gotten myself into. No, it is actually a longer story.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In college I paid my way with
grants, loans and work study. Every September I'd meet with the financial aid
department and we'd go through how I was going to put together the cost of
classes and room and board for the year. Work study was an integral part of
that and I started the lab tech job that I'd have for the next four years on my
first day of class freshman year. I always quip that seeing my loan amount each
year was the biggest driver for doing well and staying on track to graduate in
a timely manner. I'd divide my costs out to determine how much each lecture was
costing me and that price made it so the only classes I ever missed were when I
was interviewing for grad school (if my college roomie still reads this then yes
I still count when I'd drag myself to 8am physics halfway through). But I also
realize how I missed the fact that if my job was contributing to the total cost
per quarter then I couldn't have any extra expenses or I should've gotten
another job for those. In the early 00's
they still sent credit cards in the mail and before I knew it I had a couple. And
I didn't understand them. Fast forward to moving to CT for graduate school.
More money on my credit cards to get there and get settled.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But then I was living the life.
I had a stipend every month and quite frankly I felt really lucky and basically
rich but FREAKED out over the credit card debt I'd gotten into. I genuinely
didn't know what to do. No one that I was close to had enough money to be any
good at it and I didn't ask the ones who may have. So I called a debt
consolidation company I found online and started making payments. I didn't use
credit cards. I was so proud of myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now back to that car dealership
in 2007. Still debt free, still not using cards and finally employed in a real
job. I was mortified and ashamed when the financing came back on the first car
I test drove. I was so embarrassed that they saw the debt consolidation on my
history. By this time I'd started reading Suze Orman and realizing what a silly
thing it had been to do the DC on (what I now know was) such a small amount.
But again instead of acting in my best financial interest I took the impossibly
bad rate on that first car I tested. It makes me sad for 25 year old me. I was
too embarrassed to keep looking for better financing or to have to go through a
credit check at another dealer. I was also probably too lazy to figure out what
I was going to do for a car while I saved for one and I was just ready to have
the car question answered (so as not to be embarrassed). I bought it, the first
car I test drove. And when people would ask if I loved my car they'd get a
hesitant or forced smile. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As I continued to have a real job
and to extinguish the tiny flicker of shame I always had when I saw my car I
worked to pay it down quickly and our relationship improved when I owned the
title outright. But I am not sad to see it go (though, I was a bit sad no one
we offered it to wanted the old girl). I guess it'd be redemptive to see it as
a symbol of growth but it wasn't. For me it sort of symbolized how often I would
do dumb stuff so that I don't have to feel momentary shame- even when that
shame is unfounded. I would tell my 25 year old self to go easier and that she
shouldn't be ashamed about something that she was really working hard on. And I am sorry that past me had to feel that
way so often and that current me still does occasionally. <o:p></o:p></div>
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* the car max motto is "the way car buying should be" and totally inspired this post</div>
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PS. These heads are the BEST financial decision I've ever made and they still haven't ceased to be funny.</div>
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aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-86101907098702515792018-01-23T14:16:00.001-08:002018-01-23T14:32:27.688-08:00This kid!<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I LOVE two. It is so adorable and hilarious (and
exasperating). And this kid is absolutely all of those things some or most of
the time.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It is amazing how much we are shedding the baby part of our
lives. Everyone orders a meal at restaurants, we get four opinions on what we
are doing/eating, the diaper bag has morphed into a temporary emergency haz-mat
kit now that she is in undies. At her first dentist appointment this week she
sat in the dentist chair like a big kid- with Andrew and my assurance. She is
deep in the independent stage and can pretty successfully dress herself and
buckle the top portion of her car seat depending on how much time you give her.
And, the most amazing of all, we can say to the kids “let’s go guys” and more
often than not they both ambulate themselves in the general direction of the
command (MMV).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It is pretty cool. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It is also interesting how this kid likes to throw us
curveballs we never experienced with Andrew. Like when Michael went into her
room on Sunday morning to her standing there as a free bird. She is such a nut…will
we have to free range her already!?!?!?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we decided to
try for another kid the idea of siblinghood wasn’t a very clear picture nor was
it a huge goal of mine. But, wow! It is pretty damn precious. Even at this
stage it is pretty fun to see how they know each other’s buttons- the things
that make the other crazy and the things that make the other happy. They play
together, they help each other, they clobber each other. You can definitely see
the influence of her big bro in her for better and for worse—she says “na,na,na
boo boo” a delightful phrase Andrew picked up on the streets. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This kid is a joy and a delight and hard work and wonderful.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-8775349056492383322018-01-19T09:56:00.001-08:002018-01-19T09:59:23.038-08:00You're Late: Epilogue Welp. Hopefully this was the right choice.<br />
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The email to the old preschool. Names have been redacted for privacy.<br />
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<em>Dear REDACTED</em></div>
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<em>Based on our meeting last month we’ve had a great deal of discussion and have decided that Andrew needs to move to an environment which more closely tracks with his school path. He will start at a new preschool on January 16<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> and Friday, the 12<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> will be his last day at REDACTED. </em></div>
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<em>It has been a very fun experience for Andrew and his joy and comfort in the pool makes us really happy for him. But we were really disappointed with what feels like his being dismissed as having more time, rather than being helped to get where he needs to be. I hope that our discussion will change the way the “younger” kids are viewed and handled. To us, responding to their immaturity with passivity encourages immaturity where helping them see and work toward bigger expectations will help to mature. We also think that the very loose cutoff date of January 31<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> for the 3-5/pre-k doesn’t make sense and the number of kids who don’t adhere to that date and enter the pre-k class skews the distribution in the 3-5 too much. And if asked I would discourage families from sending their children to the “5-day 3-5” class. It wasn’t clear to us initially that this really only consists of M/W/F and T/Th together. This breaks up his peer groups and teachers and doesn’t feel like a consistent environment.</em></div>
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<em>We are giving this feedback because it is such a unique preschool experience and we want all kids in it to be successful…even if they are a bit wild and born in August. We hope that it will be taken in that spirit. Let us know what we need to do to end enrollment and billing.</em></div>
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<em>Thank you,...</em></div>
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The above is 100% the type and tone of interaction my mom had MANY times throughout my childhood. I was child number two and benefited from many teachers and administrators who'd already been Vicky'd and knew not to mess with her. I LOVED it so much. Knowing that my mom had my back. I also feared it, because sometimes it meant doing something uncomfortable (changing teachers, not taking the bus to field trips, not doing detention that the whole class was given, being moved into advanced dance even though my Jr High school self desperately didn't want to wear electric blue dance trunks during assemblies). </div>
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I'm sad that Andrew had to do something uncomfortable because of it. I am not as bad-ass as my mom was and was totally cringing about how to face the staff there for another week.</div>
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But I really did want to give them my honest feedback. </div>
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This latest stage in parenting is constant feeling like I keep having big mideterms and completely missed every lecture(*).
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It may just be universe payback.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Because I never suffered
much parenting angst over my babies/toddlers. I kind of thought I was doing a
pretty good job and felt relatively secure in parenting decisions I made. Fast
forward to recently. I AM FEELING LIKE A DISASTER.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Every decision around school feels so big and consistently
like I am wrong. I think this comes from one of my deepest parental desires for my
children. I want them to like and be comfortable at school. They don’t need to
be geniuses or class president but I want them to feel good about going there
in the morning on most mornings. Because they will be in school for so many,
many mornings. It breaks my heart to think of the kids who felt like school was
torture- whether for academic or social reasons. Kids have so little power to
change their own situations and they are also pretty bad at getting adults
involved when there is some situation that needs changing. So even the most
interested parents may never know all the ways that school is painful for their
child. THAT SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mKgOJhrmRu8/WmIwtucWwtI/AAAAAAABgqA/NCgej2MNsQIPZoTMmBYUoAYHEIvuYrhpwCKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mKgOJhrmRu8/WmIwtucWwtI/AAAAAAABgqA/NCgej2MNsQIPZoTMmBYUoAYHEIvuYrhpwCKgBGAs/s320/IMG_0661.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, we are one week into our new situation- preschool at the elementary school where he'll go in the fall. I'm pretty proud of how Andrew did this week and it is kind of exciting being at the elementary school everyday and seeing all the big kids doing their thing. Hopefully I will be able to get into a better rhythm for trusting myself and my kids throughout all of these school decisions.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">*I am writing this entirely in my own voice because that is
where most of the crazy happens. In real life I have a partner who is working
through these decisions with me and is able to have slightly more perspective</span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-70743769239527263272017-12-21T14:14:00.000-08:002017-12-21T14:14:04.871-08:00Mark it Down!Andrew and I just finished our first chapter book.<br />
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The Chocolate Touch</div>
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It was slow going. He'd lose interest and we'd step away for weeks at a time. The way he poured over the minimal chapter head art was cute and funny. But he understood the story and it has been fun arguing whether someone could ever get sick of eating chocolate. Plus he was riveted with horror when (SPOILER) the mom gets turned into chocolate- so that made me feel good.</div>
aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-82350469508839354312017-12-11T15:08:00.003-08:002017-12-11T15:08:59.903-08:00If you’re 29 Days early then you’re late<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 28px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
It is happening. I’m losing my mind. This has been slowly and insidiously working on me since the moment my precious son was born. In August.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Apparently, being born in August as a boy, especially one of smaller stature, is an unimaginable tragedy when it comes to school.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ever since he was a tiny pup I always got strange flip comments about how “you can keep him home an extra year” when the topic of school would come up. I always found this an annoyance and pretty ridiculous. By my math with the school entrance cut off as <a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" style="-webkit-text-decoration-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.258824); color: black;" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">August 31</a><sup><a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" style="-webkit-text-decoration-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.258824); color: black;" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">st</a></sup> that put him well within the cutoff and, barring any developmental issues, it made no sense to plan on such a move before the child even had the chance to grow and learn anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Well, he’s grown and learned. And he is pretty great. He is sharp, a critical thinker and incredibly imaginative. His speech is clear and he has a diverse vocabulary. He has shown with his dinosaur phase that he can have focus but doesn’t get too intense. He makes friends, he is rude sometimes to some of them. He reveres his teachers and sometimes doesn’t give them the time of day. In other words…he seems right on target to me. He certainly has things to work on before September but that’s kind of the point of preschool, not to mention, the kid has parents who care. Oh and he continues to be quite small for age.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In September he started stand-alone preschool. Inexplicably, the school is divided into a 3-5 year old class and a “pre-k” with end of January as the cut-off for the division between 3-5 and pre-k. Andrew is in the 3-5 and we have noticed that his class skews more to the three year olds. This seemed to be setting expectations closer to the 3’s and the bigger issue to me was that his future elementary classmates were all in the other class. We called a meeting to discuss moving him into pre-k.<o:p></o:p></div>
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You can all imagine my face when the teacher (PT) starts the conversation by saying that they really think he should do an extra year of pre-k. When I asked her to elaborate her main points were that he is young and small and everyone else is doing it. After I recovered from my annoyance stroke I think I did a good job of not only debunking her but also of giving myself the reassurance that, despite the hesitation to initiate yet another childcare change, it needs to happen.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But as with everything parenting there is a ton of doubt so I will lay out for you/myself why red-shirting is a major issue and why I shouldn’t fall into it with my kid.<o:p></o:p></div>
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1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>It further widens the age and ability range for kindergarten which requires teachers to further expand their already strained focus. People are sending their kids to kindergarten at nearly 6.5 (this was a point that PT used to argue for red-shirting.) other people are sending their freshly turned 5 year olds to school as indicated by the cutoff. And if we all keep doing that doesn’t it just push the date up further and further? Until a kid born in July, then June and so on, are bullied into red-shirting? Someone has to be the youngest in school, it just is. If I got to pick the cut off would be <a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://5" style="-webkit-text-decoration-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.258824); color: black;" x-apple-data-detectors-result="5" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">June 1st</a>, that way it gives people a few months to wrestle with the idea of their 5 year olds starting school and parental emotion can be taken out of the equation a bit.<o:p></o:p></div>
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2.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>It is an option disproportionately unavailable to poor and working parents. Red shirting requires an extra year of child care and in a climate where that is unaffordable I think it is wrong to incentivize it. If anything we should get all kids into school sooner and let curriculum reflect that. <o:p></o:p></div>
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3.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>It is gaming the system. The talk used to be more about size….let your kid get bigger and better at things like sports. Now the conversation avoids that and pretends to focus on “maturity” because size makes it sound more explicitly like what it is, a way to game the system. But for public schools to thrive we need less of this than more. For my kid he will likely always be the smallest, treating that like it is a disability is not ok. If he was having motor skills issues and an OT thought a year would be helpful that’s one thing. A year for him to grow taller? Maybe we can just help our kids not be assholes to short kids? And I have a sinking suspicion that it starts with us parents (this mom at preschool drop-off, who I’d never spoken a single work to said, “He’s starting K next year? HE’S SO TINY” in front of the whole class.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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4.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>That spread in ages? It perpetuates through school until you have high schoolers ranging from 13-19 years old.<o:p></o:p></div>
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5.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>He is a normal, developing and thriving kid. Why would we make this kind of decision without there being a true developmental reason? He absolutely has things to work on to be ready and I guess this is where I get a bug in my shorts. That’s what I want from preschool. I want them to have the expectation of him that in the next 6-9 months he is making progress in the areas he needs to for school. I feel like these kids considered “young” are being written off. This idea that they have this luxury of an additional year so there’s no need to help them progress now. It is wrong and it is unfair. I want my kid to be asked to rise to the occasion and then evaluate where he struggles to do that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The points that are bringing me down:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Everyone is doing it. When PT said this to me my response was, “you have to be what you want to see.” But if we have a de facto cutoff date based on everyone red-shirting (except the poor and blissfully clueless) then isn’t that just the new cutoff date?<o:p></o:p></div>
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2.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>I am finding as the start of real school is on the horizon that I am desperately wishing to pump the brakes. That parental emotion I spoke of above…turns out I’m swimming in it. I am so excited for him to continue to learn and grow but what about the parks we haven’t gotten to yet? Or the library trips or vacations or anything that being in real school conflicts with. It is a lot for me. BUT THAT IS ME NOT HIM. My mom is good at gently reminding me of this and I have to continue reminding myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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3.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>What if he really does need more time to get ready for school? Well, no brainer, if he genuinely needs that then we would make that decision. But to me he deserves the chance to get there before deciding he won’t get there in time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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One thing in all of this is that my confidence in Andrew in particular has never wavered. I don’t think I have blinders on to his flaws and weaknesses. But now to go find a preschool environment who shares our commitment to helping him grow. <o:p></o:p></div>
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aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-343816701860454412017-10-24T21:45:00.001-07:002017-10-24T21:45:24.633-07:00Puffy heart I’m having a head over heels for my kid kinda day. <br /><br />Andrew is just growing up and it is cool and crazy. <br /><br />We went on a preschool field trip together. It was to a “farm” (emphasis on the quotes) and I decided that M would go to daycare and it would be the two of us. <br /><br />Well, this morning I set off the smoke detectors while trying to make us popcorn to take as a snack. They both did amazing and then I noticed that he put away the broom and pole I had to use to turn it off when the noise and chaos was over. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tz9bvWxiYeE/WfAWs7gt1aI/AAAAAAABaSM/dyjwDzUufnoriJoMu8xvxVyqBP7BwiqnQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tz9bvWxiYeE/WfAWs7gt1aI/AAAAAAABaSM/dyjwDzUufnoriJoMu8xvxVyqBP7BwiqnQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Then we had a great time at the field trip. I loved watching him with his little friends and it made me so happy that he is still little enough to enjoy me being a part of his posse. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1LZ7QRxcnuU/WfAWupspQOI/AAAAAAABaSQ/hlyQncLm8_AUkFBe1JEjyvT9AtKM5uB_QCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1LZ7QRxcnuU/WfAWupspQOI/AAAAAAABaSQ/hlyQncLm8_AUkFBe1JEjyvT9AtKM5uB_QCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oOGwXaDTpnU/WfAWwjx706I/AAAAAAABaSU/42o3AaU22rgVz9u0XFAXzsbg1AtN0B2TQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oOGwXaDTpnU/WfAWwjx706I/AAAAAAABaSU/42o3AaU22rgVz9u0XFAXzsbg1AtN0B2TQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DguG1vDrrLQ/WfAWygrp2OI/AAAAAAABaSY/cmOMjnJDCUErEom8C4tVUKcQv2bQyS0oQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DguG1vDrrLQ/WfAWygrp2OI/AAAAAAABaSY/cmOMjnJDCUErEom8C4tVUKcQv2bQyS0oQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We then went to lunch with my mom and he sat and colored while she and I chatted about boring stuff. <br /><br />Then he and I attempted to go shopping for out adopt a family for USVI relief. And he sorta got it. He suggested getting them pumice stones but.... <br /><br />After dinner we went to the elementary school and he scaled the big play structure like it was nothing. <br /><br />Finally while I was getting M into bed he colored. But I loved watching him trying to copy the colors to match the sheet to a sticker he had. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6FI8xU3Sqkg/WfAW0PzmNqI/AAAAAAABaSc/5lS4sxoPV2IVGUQI1ZYm4mE3aQsGmJfSACHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6FI8xU3Sqkg/WfAW0PzmNqI/AAAAAAABaSc/5lS4sxoPV2IVGUQI1ZYm4mE3aQsGmJfSACHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />He’s cool. He’s big. He has his moments- even today we didn’t get to make the crafts he wanted because he got himself into trouble. But man, I was having a day of such deep appreciation for the kid he is. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wZ8I0Gr8McE/WfAW1hfwlrI/AAAAAAABaSg/t48wcQ2t584yUDgEJH9FDIW9NFoUtAIowCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wZ8I0Gr8McE/WfAW1hfwlrI/AAAAAAABaSg/t48wcQ2t584yUDgEJH9FDIW9NFoUtAIowCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IMGOhVJ4Ung/WfAW3W4VsEI/AAAAAAABaSk/KqP9DNKRBN422Qa78jkFQCCVuxYSTeWlQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IMGOhVJ4Ung/WfAW3W4VsEI/AAAAAAABaSk/KqP9DNKRBN422Qa78jkFQCCVuxYSTeWlQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eGdZp2045qs/WfAW41AeeAI/AAAAAAABaSo/2hl4ITs6yWMc-7tjn6AgxG5s8nLYeWTsACHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eGdZp2045qs/WfAW41AeeAI/AAAAAAABaSo/2hl4ITs6yWMc-7tjn6AgxG5s8nLYeWTsACHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-49859428007378470912017-10-13T04:07:00.001-07:002017-10-13T04:07:17.534-07:00Things I've learned this year It's my birthday on Monday. <br />Here's what I've learned this year:<br />1) I am a stupid idiot. <br />This time last year I was so hopeful and excited. Like a big stupid idiot. The events of the past year have shown me how idiotically blind I've been to the depth and depravity of the ills of this country and the world. I am humbled and cowed by my idiocy. <br /><br />2) How to fry a dippy egg. <br /><br />So, I guess this year has been a mixed bag. <br /><br />Pictures of a few of the people who've been the highlights of my year. <br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eQTT8eM0Eb8/WeCeQSrCDSI/AAAAAAABZys/oz4v-GK34_03SLNEb5N4oi_2DkMj3kr_ACHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eQTT8eM0Eb8/WeCeQSrCDSI/AAAAAAABZys/oz4v-GK34_03SLNEb5N4oi_2DkMj3kr_ACHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Kf4DRo_jyo8/WeCeSSNjJgI/AAAAAAABZyw/zlySm5GISL0yQEkuX4zelPZNWT4sDcZDgCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Kf4DRo_jyo8/WeCeSSNjJgI/AAAAAAABZyw/zlySm5GISL0yQEkuX4zelPZNWT4sDcZDgCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-u1dAwMPg9cQ/WeCeT8w56iI/AAAAAAABZy0/S6BS5V-G_lgq_tabmJTVj80WGj6XN_sRgCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-u1dAwMPg9cQ/WeCeT8w56iI/AAAAAAABZy0/S6BS5V-G_lgq_tabmJTVj80WGj6XN_sRgCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-716wvB_y1jw/WeCeVjVPVZI/AAAAAAABZy4/LIoehsJbKTsEoiGxRuXHd_xcafhrcQfAQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-716wvB_y1jw/WeCeVjVPVZI/AAAAAAABZy4/LIoehsJbKTsEoiGxRuXHd_xcafhrcQfAQCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Sxyo1hEuksA/WeCeXt4lkDI/AAAAAAABZy8/l5Nus_T-ATwU2YVdR4vnDOFpWUbfr0j3gCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Sxyo1hEuksA/WeCeXt4lkDI/AAAAAAABZy8/l5Nus_T-ATwU2YVdR4vnDOFpWUbfr0j3gCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='257' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-aDeDA5ri4qg/WeCeZBOIgHI/AAAAAAABZzA/t92xaLCgX3onz6L5xNNpZnc4QjWzThZVwCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-aDeDA5ri4qg/WeCeZBOIgHI/AAAAAAABZzA/t92xaLCgX3onz6L5xNNpZnc4QjWzThZVwCHMYCw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='157' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-45134830670862793902017-09-08T16:24:00.001-07:002017-09-08T16:25:46.232-07:00I wish I didn't hate religionBecause I’d LOVE to belong to a church.<br />
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Last weekend the whole family volunteered at our neighborhood elementary day for a big city-wide school clean-up day. It was open to the public but was organized by a religious group.<br />
We had a great time. It was fun being in an elementary school- for me and Michael out of nostalgia and interested in the ways things have changed and for the kids because they’d never been in big kid school before.<br />
We were as helpful as we could be. Andrew and Michael sharpened pencils, Miranda and I wiped desks and fetched some supplies. Michael and I helped a bewildering collating project and the kids played in the gym/picked up trash.<br />
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I LOVE a volunteer group. People are generally in such good moods and willing to do things they aren’t great at or don’t take the most specialized skills. I get to see how different organizations run and how the slack is picked up by a helping hand. Everyone is usually really friendly and there are typically donuts.<br />
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I wish religion wasn’t so demonstrably terrible and based on worshipping an incredibly cruel or at least indifferent being who is all knowing enough not to care about miniscule things like you.<br />
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The opposite of the terrible things people do in the name of religion are the wonderful things people do in name of religion. Building orphanages, opening shelters, manning soup kitchens. I adore this about humanity. The snag is that I hate that people need God as the motivator and justification. Or worse, that recipients are pressured to believe to receive. That grosses me out in so many ways. <br />
In my humble opinion, if there is a just and caring god then we should all be able to sit back and enjoy. It is because we are all humans and subject to the hardships and opportunities that come with this physical world that we should be helping one another out.<br />
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I know what I’ll do. I’ll start a secular organization dedicated to volunteerism alone. Since it’ll take a lot of my time I might ask people to give money to help. And to keep us on the same page, ideologically, I’ll probably give a talk once a month or once a week or so. And since it might be hard for people to keep that message in their heads I’ll write a pamphlet or book of some sort that can be used as reference.<br />
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PS we were ready to head after the break for a group picture. Miranda refused to be in the group shot and stood grumpily out of frame 😂😂😂 I think she was hoping for a solo shoot. <br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhoneaeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-75313664351069024132017-06-05T20:58:00.001-07:002017-06-05T20:58:01.020-07:00It goes to Intent<i>Alternative titles:<br />Are you fucking serious right now?<br />I'm raising a thug<br />Why we can't have nice things<br />Kids are the Worst<br />Serenity now</i><br /><br />I don't even know what to say about this. <br /><br />Let's set the scene. <br />Andrew was coming off a phenomenal weekend. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-swSXYKMPUYU/WTYoOYNbVUI/AAAAAAABVjU/ZhkLL8xE8kQLiJH7l_Z2SOufEcYP04NpwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-swSXYKMPUYU/WTYoOYNbVUI/AAAAAAABVjU/ZhkLL8xE8kQLiJH7l_Z2SOufEcYP04NpwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='257' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><i>There is a reason they are so cute. <br /></i><br />On Saturday morning we had a birthday party for a friend's daughter who turned three. That party was the first time I clearly saw how some of the HARD work that had been three was starting to come together for Andrew. For whatever reason stealing was rampant at this party. Swift and at every corner. And kids (younger) kept stealing stuff (food, balls, coloring supplies) from Andrew. Adults dealt with it but his reaction was exactly what we've been trying to work on. He was rightfully pissed but held it together so beautifully and he never retaliated and as far as I could tell was never the thief. He had a lot of fun despite the injustices. <br />Three has been rough. He is such a mix of know it all/bossypants and desperately seeking closeness to us as he realizes how confusing the world is. Both of those are cute and charming in their own way but together it is dizzying and frustrating for us. <br /><br />But this weekend it was clicking! We had a sleepover Saturday/Sunday and he was a fun and gracious host. He was excited to have her and shared his stuff and us so well. <br /><br />So this morning. <br />I had a pretty bad headache but otherwise our morning was clicking along. When I drive them to daycare I get Andrew out first and then we walk to Miranda's side to get her out. He keeps a hand on the car while I unbuckle Miranda and then we hold hands through the parking lot. EVERY DAY. <br /><br />Today I look down and there is a circle drawn with a rock on our car*. I was SEETHING with rage. My kid somehow managed to key my car in the five seconds it takes to extract his sister. Seriously. <br /><br />Immediately the two voices in my head were a competition between LIVID and a reasonable jerk who kept reminding me that to him the infraction does not involve a monetary or long term issue. I saw him seeing how upset I was, apologizing for "not listening" and being genuinely contrite. But I was losing my mind inside. <br /><br />Drop off was curt. And likely the blood pressure spike shifted my headache into a full blown, nausea and everything migraine. <br /><br />When I picked him up we had a talk about things that an apology can't fix. I'm sure we all had this conversation around something glass and precious of our parents that we broke. Mine was when I cut up one of my mom's favorite photos for a collage. She was so mad and I didn't get it- I was making something for her. <br /><br />In that respect I guess I should be glad that this was not something irreplaceable. I attempted a scratch buffing treatment that possibly helped. <br /><br />My other unreasonable reaction was/is something like shame. Like, WTF, is my kid a vandal? Is this where his life of crime begins? Where did we go wrong. Which is dumb because he doesn't have any context for body damage and BBV. <br /><br />Eventually my migraine subsided and I got to pick the kids up early for a dr appointment for Miranda. After that we went to the park. Andrew has spent the evening being his usual self with what seems like a few extra random kisses and snuggles. <br /><br />I'm proud of myself for my outward reaction and disappointed with myself for my inner one (all of the alternative titles above). I sort of feel like we've leveled up in parenting and I have not found any cheat codes. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FWPL_-OJx_M/WTYoQTzsb9I/AAAAAAABVjY/ZlokvwZbnQYcNcyVoMw1jLySrTiVxOWDwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FWPL_-OJx_M/WTYoQTzsb9I/AAAAAAABVjY/ZlokvwZbnQYcNcyVoMw1jLySrTiVxOWDwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><i>Sorry child #2. I'm onto the "kill em with cuteness" plan. But good effort. </i><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yL6x04-bRa4/WTYoSPCwIbI/AAAAAAABVjc/GLA44ywbLDMfAF1F0aKnXQOrxQSBZrGywCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yL6x04-bRa4/WTYoSPCwIbI/AAAAAAABVjc/GLA44ywbLDMfAF1F0aKnXQOrxQSBZrGywCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />*the O was about 6" long. it was not our brand new car and it is a surface scratch which can probably be dealt with pretty easily. BUT STILL <br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-62385987537380586692017-05-08T22:56:00.001-07:002017-05-08T22:56:13.089-07:00PollyannaThings are improving (at a snails pace) in the getting Andrew to not be afraid of his room front. <br />The process has involved more of his sleeping in our room then his entire life to this point combined. <br /><br />He comes in and sleeps in a little cot near our bed. <br /><br />If I'm playing the glad game I'd call out this:<br /><br />The night Andrew was born (wee morning I should say) when we all finally were alone and turned out the lights, hours old Andrew was in a newborn sleepy fog, Michael was in an exhaustion coma and I was wide awake on adrenaline and hormones. <br /><br />The two of them on either side of me. <br /><br />I just sat there looking at them. My family. By choice, by luck, by miracle. It was pretty amazing. <br /><br />And tonight and a few times in the past weeks I've found myself in the same position. And it is still pretty amazing. <br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-K_LVTLrCugo/WRFZ2g5dDNI/AAAAAAABUxI/IXvu058gRdMfBjBr9vs1OVKPfT0bUnafACHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-K_LVTLrCugo/WRFZ2g5dDNI/AAAAAAABUxI/IXvu058gRdMfBjBr9vs1OVKPfT0bUnafACHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='209' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Oh- and now flanked with this silly girl in the next room. So bizarre and amazing. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lygWUxbnOSY/WRFZ5UYDOgI/AAAAAAABUxM/4xEGgEz1Ma44LPklDBztuZGtkiH3NmOdwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lygWUxbnOSY/WRFZ5UYDOgI/AAAAAAABUxM/4xEGgEz1Ma44LPklDBztuZGtkiH3NmOdwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NiMGJYNAYZc/WRFZ8TDaAbI/AAAAAAABUxQ/k44e_1S24L4MbmXnt4B0Owa8tU3qIaI5gCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NiMGJYNAYZc/WRFZ8TDaAbI/AAAAAAABUxQ/k44e_1S24L4MbmXnt4B0Owa8tU3qIaI5gCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fqjvCGI-WeQ/WRFZ_Kzs7gI/AAAAAAABUxU/pVfaYFl-phMZm7fLrwg4lGbtoiWd1hEOwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fqjvCGI-WeQ/WRFZ_Kzs7gI/AAAAAAABUxU/pVfaYFl-phMZm7fLrwg4lGbtoiWd1hEOwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-32366347942540958702017-04-23T18:09:00.001-07:002017-04-23T18:09:57.637-07:00Shit Shit. <br />My friend died. <br />Suddenly and even more sudden to me since I didn't know she'd gotten sick. <br /><br />Man, this was one of the really good ones. I can't believe the world doesn't have them anymore. <br /><br />I'm realizing by the outpouring on her Facebook page how she was one of those friends that you feel like you have a special relationship with but it turns out they made all of their relationships special. <br /><br />This was one of the first friendships I made in Washington and in a lot of ways she was what helped me through those early days. We worked together and bonded over lunchtime hummus and a big lab move. <br /><br />She helped me buy the last beater car I've owned. She was the one who encouraged me to try pho instead of bun at Vietnamese restaurants- and changed my impression of that dark murky broth forever. She ate the radicchio out of all of my salad mixes. She fielded my IM's at work when I was bored or hungry. <br /><br />She showed me Seattle proper. She was a native and mostly loved this place. We clubbed on capital hill. Ate food on the Ave. We had a standing date to do a stairs workout in capital hill then Pho and a movie. She made me watch scary foreign films. She let me tag along to different interesting things her more artsy friends were doing. We went to step aerobics. <br /><br />This was the first friendship where we both talked about relationships and how much we wanted one and how for our self-conscious selves it was a true struggle. <br /><br />We went on vacation together to Maui and she tolerated my white knuckles while we attempted to drive up volcanoes and approximately 1/10th of the road to Hana. The only girlfriend's type trip I've ever done. We took surf lessons and attempted to beach in rainy Maui weather. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oCEcjmx3iBY/WP1QPU6Yb5I/AAAAAAABUQw/_z-D50e9aw0JhdMMftiHZQ6Hme46oEpDACHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oCEcjmx3iBY/WP1QPU6Yb5I/AAAAAAABUQw/_z-D50e9aw0JhdMMftiHZQ6Hme46oEpDACHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I watched (and I hope supported) as she found her passion, went to school for it and moved to Denver to make a life. <br /><br />We texted, IM'd and Facebook messaged. <br /><br />She met both of my babies and ate dinner at both of our homes. <br /><br />I had 100% taken for granted that we'd wind up in the same city. Her family and heart were here. <br /><br />I'm going to miss her so much. <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qAf4nXz5jCI/WP1QRiys5kI/AAAAAAABUQ4/NCIUjRKCv80dNcKaqrN7aaylQSDPCVhSQCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qAf4nXz5jCI/WP1QRiys5kI/AAAAAAABUQ4/NCIUjRKCv80dNcKaqrN7aaylQSDPCVhSQCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='185' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />She was a great example of how even though you're shy you have to push out of your comfort zone to make a difference in things you care about. <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6ppVtsdURrA/WP1QUAyLlYI/AAAAAAABUQ8/Uz2fIglrmnYyrxEtXHYWDKp-IPyXbGQQgCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6ppVtsdURrA/WP1QUAyLlYI/AAAAAAABUQ8/Uz2fIglrmnYyrxEtXHYWDKp-IPyXbGQQgCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tXMIxbysP6g/WP1QWxiTRJI/AAAAAAABURA/WcXOtCcrCTAdR9kpISGRuufgdKbDLFehwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tXMIxbysP6g/WP1QWxiTRJI/AAAAAAABURA/WcXOtCcrCTAdR9kpISGRuufgdKbDLFehwCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I'm not ready not to have this person in my life anymore. I'm heartsick about the things they never got to do. I'm sad for the world not to have this goofy, passionate, generous, opinionated, fiercely loyal and exceedingly loving person here. <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ywg__6-ej04/WP1QZI4utnI/AAAAAAABURE/V4GUn-REdxA9C0cF7_5UhWuaPTHjftx_QCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ywg__6-ej04/WP1QZI4utnI/AAAAAAABURE/V4GUn-REdxA9C0cF7_5UhWuaPTHjftx_QCHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-40292238883697494032017-04-04T20:47:00.001-07:002017-04-04T20:47:16.584-07:00RelentlessnessInalways guessed that the biggest challenge for me in parenthood would be the sheer relentlessness of it. Unlike many of my other guesses I was absolutely right. <br /><br />I'm finding myself becoming weirdly unreasonable with Andrew because it feels like it is constantly something. And for some reason I'm like "dude, I kinda thought we'd figured most stuff out for you. Pull it together THREE YEAR OLD" (sarcasm font used)<br /><br />Last night* was one of those relentless ones. <br /><br />Michael was out of town and this is the email I sent him:<br /> <i>Oh man, I was a mom disaster last night. It was clearly my fault because when Ali was asking how it was going yesterday I was too positive. I was saying what a great week we were having. Andrew has honestly been a total delight and drop offs have been good. Checklist and bed time were awesome on Monday and Tuesday. But man I totally failed last night.<br /> <br />After I put Miranda down, he ate cereal and had two glasses of water (foreshadowing) and we chatted before bed. Checklist was great but then you witnessed the “I don’t want to be alone”/”what if I’m scared”/etc. I thought talking to you had helped but no, we tried starting over with checklist stories and trying again, I sat and sang to him until he seemed calm and sleepy- all fails . Finally I turned on his light and said he was free to play and I was going to bed.(here is where you might be annoyed at me if this bites us in the ass but bear with me) I left our bedroom door open and I was lying in bed and I see a little face in the hall and I told him to come lay with me. Truth be told, it helped me sleep better and we were both out like lights. Until 3am when he wakes me to say he wet his pants- and our bed.<br /> <br />I got him new jammies and told him he would have to lay in his bed. He starts SCREAMING as I walk back to our room. I definitely yelled and asked a dumb question to a tired 3.5 year old ( “what do you want us to do Andrew?”, which he had no idea, he was as tired as I was and frustrated too.) He screams some more until Miranda starts screaming. Then I cried. I sat in his chair and cried. He sat with me for a few minutes then laid down, he seemed a little sad and maybe confused at why I was crying. I did apologize and tell him that I was tired and sad he couldn’t get to sleep. He was quiet, Miranda had settled back down and then I was up feeling like SHIT for about an hour (interrupted by one call for me saying he heard a loud sound). Then I slept next to his pee.<br /> <br />We were out of milk and I wanted a fresh start this morning- so we got up and dressed and out the door in 15 minutes and went and had Starbucks for breakfast. They were two of the happiest, cutest, chattiest kids ever and it was lovely and wonderful. Drop off was great. I went home and showered and was to work without trouble.<br /> <br />I’m not sure the moral of that story. I suck? I don’t try hard enough and I suck? I try, but still suck? I try, but still suck but hopefully he knows that even if I suck I love him?</i><br /><br />Ugh. <br /><br />Since then he is now apparently afraid to be alone in bed. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-W6BcXZz_92k/WORoue-oDfI/AAAAAAABTwA/-2i1Ifsga9Y/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-W6BcXZz_92k/WORoue-oDfI/AAAAAAABTwA/-2i1Ifsga9Y/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Things were going great! He even invented blackberry tacos. <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sv04q0ckwcg/WORow0fFajI/AAAAAAABTwE/28CI8U9STf8/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sv04q0ckwcg/WORow0fFajI/AAAAAAABTwE/28CI8U9STf8/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />And it makes me totally sad for him and I can actually totally relate to that feeling. <br /><br />But it also is an example of how, even when the hard work fades to the background and you are just in the moment enjoying things something will pop up to show you that this gig is truly never ending. <br /><br />I'm not handling this one well (mostly because it is sucking the life out of me to spend the 1-2 hours we have after they presumably are in bed dealing with this rather than get a little alone/couple/housework/paperwork time). Luckily Michael is handling it with a cooler kinder head- I handled our last crisis so I don't feel entirely terrible about this. <br /><br />But yeah. Parenting is fucking relentless. And like aging that is better than the alternative. <br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />*this was last Wednesday so now we are a week into this situation <br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-81263423717716186092017-03-19T08:56:00.001-07:002017-03-19T08:56:04.026-07:00I LOST my shit. My flight to San Diego was cancelled while we sat at the gate. I'd taken a Lyft to the airport. It was a 9:30 flight and the only one that would get me to SAN in time for my 8:30 training start time. <br />And I LOST my shit. <br /><br />I feel like this type of stress test is a good measure of my mental state. Because I like to think that when I'm in a good place I am usually pretty good at adapting or at least seeing the absurdity. But on Monday night I honestly felt completely crushed. <br />It was like suddenly a loud chorus of all the ways I was fucking everything up started running on repeat in my head. Late for the course that I was already unsure about- hadn't driven to the airport so that was an extra expense-already said goodbye to the kids so now I was going to mess up Michael's flow-rebooked on a 6am flight so I was definitely going to be exhausted. <br /><br />And the truly insidious part of it was that once I figured out my plan-hotel near the airport that cost less than another round trip Lyft-resigned about being late to course-apologized to Michael for being a spaz, then I was SO mad at myself for not being able to deal with the situation like a functional adult. And frankly, a functional adult with the means to pay for adjustments. I felt like such an asshole for being such a baby. <br /><br />I was still dogging myself pretty hard through my flight but once I was breathing San Diego air and found that my rental car had been given away I had to let it go and at least try to laugh at myself. <br /><br />I need to keep myself from being in such a low state that I can't function. I give myself enough credit to say that when I'm in my right mind, I am more mentally tough. So now gotta stay in that right mind. <br /><br /><br />Sent from my iPhone<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-32105339032579708642017-03-19T08:55:00.001-07:002017-03-19T08:55:33.480-07:003.5 yr old musings Andrew had a quarter he was taking to show my mom. <br />As we drive to her house he asks Michael and I why it has a pirate on it. <br /><br />We were a bit confused so he clarified. <br /><br />A flyer-dapter (pterodactyl) on one side and a pirate on the other side. <br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IQk28i2gvd8/WM6p5zZNJ3I/AAAAAAABTd8/tt2231nVS2A/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IQk28i2gvd8/WM6p5zZNJ3I/AAAAAAABTd8/tt2231nVS2A/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-88FI-pU9IDo/WM6p85X5U7I/AAAAAAABTeA/RIvyD3Z91hU/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-88FI-pU9IDo/WM6p85X5U7I/AAAAAAABTeA/RIvyD3Z91hU/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-12142608384753982002017-03-17T22:16:00.001-07:002017-03-17T22:16:36.091-07:00America's Finest!<br />I'm sure I sound like a broken record but since I don't go to San Diego with any marked frequency I figure I can indulge myself when I do. <br />I freaking love San Diego. <br />When I got off the plane after what was a tumultuous trip* i could immediately breath in the feel and smell. <br /><br /><i>My children will never know about walking down the street and hearing eucalyptus bark sloughing off and the crunch of it under foot.</i> <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XYp8dqHivpE/WMy4bGdVmPI/AAAAAAABTcI/YPu6Hav89QQ/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XYp8dqHivpE/WMy4bGdVmPI/AAAAAAABTcI/YPu6Hav89QQ/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I was by myself for a training course for work. My first time traveling at all since last April, my first time flying away from either kid and my first night away from Miranda period. <br /><br />I missed those guys a lot. <br /><i>Andrew made me a bracelet </i><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hWhqEd9CTIs/WMzCMrEnZXI/AAAAAAABTcg/1FEiyghLJ3M/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hWhqEd9CTIs/WMzCMrEnZXI/AAAAAAABTcg/1FEiyghLJ3M/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />But I had an awesome trip. <br />The work stuff was so helpful and energizing. I feel like I have a much better grasp of the technology, how we might use it and importantly, how to help manage expectations around it. It was a hands on lab and it was great to do the experiments with other people and talk true logistics and work flow. It was fun brainstorming potential work flow for my company and even more fun helping others talk out their projects (always 1000X more fun to suggest experiments if you don't have to do them). The training facility was so nice and since they make all of the equipment they had every scientific toy you could imagine. <br />I told Michael that I would LOVE to work there. It is like being a lab TA with slightly fewer hopeless students. <br /><br /><i>Gel that you can watch in real time. Eat your heart out. </i><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-K1gR5-DUp0k/WMzCQAWx0TI/AAAAAAABTck/sJFwFS_sUE0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-K1gR5-DUp0k/WMzCQAWx0TI/AAAAAAABTck/sJFwFS_sUE0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My down time was lovely too! I took a long walk in the beach each morning. Walking from my hotel through Carlsbad to the beach. Carlsbad is adorable! I didn't know. People who live by the beach are just happier people and it is a great mood booster to stroll along smiling and wishing everyone a good morning. I love seeing the old couples walking hand in hand (as the kids say #couplegoals). <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qsndX0wstoM/WMzCTzpQAHI/AAAAAAABTco/-Ac-g-bEKg8/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qsndX0wstoM/WMzCTzpQAHI/AAAAAAABTco/-Ac-g-bEKg8/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--igdvFsArFA/WMzCXiySReI/AAAAAAABTcs/lTbpMBODdUE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--igdvFsArFA/WMzCXiySReI/AAAAAAABTcs/lTbpMBODdUE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I went and saw TWO movies. Moonlight and Beauty and the Beast...neither was as "out and proud" as the media had led me to believe. <br /><br />I ate carne asada burritos for 2 of 3 night's dinner. And I met up with my oldest childhood friend for the third. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iRDBeD32qas/WMzCdTBLmBI/AAAAAAABTcw/J8h30LekIQo/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iRDBeD32qas/WMzCdTBLmBI/AAAAAAABTcw/J8h30LekIQo/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I wandered Target leisurely, bought a pint of B&J's and ate it in bed watching Queer as Folk on Netflix. <br /><br />This trip has been a real refresh for me and I hope it sticks. I hope it will help me move on some things that are holding us back at home as far as figuring out childcare and work life balance and such. I hope I can translate the genuine enthusiasm I have about this new project at work into action. <br /><br />I also feel like it is a hint to me that Michael and I should try to fit in small solo getaways for just such refresh. And one day even a couple getaway. <br /><br />*travel will be a post of its own<br /><i>The fog on my final morning walk</i><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wceJWgVXDuI/WMzCsmBuelI/AAAAAAABTc0/ThZrQ_qs94g/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wceJWgVXDuI/WMzCsmBuelI/AAAAAAABTc0/ThZrQ_qs94g/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-81133239005021078842017-03-05T08:54:00.001-08:002017-03-05T08:54:39.186-08:00Female stuffTmi potential: high<br /><br />Ok, I often feel like I never got the memo on how to do standard female rituals- hair, makeup, clothes, nails, skin, etc. And how others did regular menstruation was a mystery too. <br /><br />So have I totally just missed the memo on how amazing a menstrual cup is? <br /><br />Holy crap, it was awesome. My biggest female fail was I could never figure out how to sleep during my period without it looking like a stab victim was triaged in my bed by morning. It was so gross, disturbing and embarrassing. But I just had my period and only had to wash my sheets by choice!<br /><br />It is so cool! I was super intimidated by it- size and firmness gave me some serious trepidation. But, I figured if I'm on the menstrual train for reals now I needed to try something new. <br /><br />I hope next time I will spend les mental energy being amazed and thinking about it. And fewer bathroom trips just to check all is well. But overall I'm pretty stoked and unsure if I missed the memo or what. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-76690627178363473022017-01-26T18:31:00.001-08:002017-01-26T18:31:20.894-08:00Nuclear optionAndrew just started being into a show called "harry and his bucket full of dinosaurs"<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xW_aNkbcza4/WIqwqn7BFlI/AAAAAAABR5o/FyWPXry3g8A/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xW_aNkbcza4/WIqwqn7BFlI/AAAAAAABR5o/FyWPXry3g8A/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GMSWUFGTtV4/WIqwt5EUcwI/AAAAAAABR5s/6VP5rKB-Fek/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GMSWUFGTtV4/WIqwt5EUcwI/AAAAAAABR5s/6VP5rKB-Fek/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='1600' height='1600' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-842F8bYt8ug/WIqw97pkI-I/AAAAAAABR5w/YBzD-tgDpy4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-842F8bYt8ug/WIqw97pkI-I/AAAAAAABR5w/YBzD-tgDpy4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />It's cute enough but today it hit me that harry seems to live with just his mom and his nana helps out. <br /><br />Wow. Can you imagine it?<br /><br />Sometimes it is really bizarre to me the way my family has shaken out. A married couple with two kids (one son, one daughter even) a house, a cat. <br /><br />This is not only NOT my personal experience but I can't even think of one example of this arrangement in my immediate circle during my primary school years. Now this is likely due to the village my mom created. It makes sense that families with adult deficiencies ban together to get shit done. <br /><br />I just never really pictured myself in such a classic family structure. It is a good setup but surprises me sometimes in both good and bad ways. <br /><br />The good: my mom told me once that the times she missed having a husband weren't the hard things as much as they were the good things. And I sort of get that now. Nobody on the planet other than Michael sees the way these kids shine to us alone. Nobody else fully grasps the goofy pride over the smallest of mundane accomplishments much less the big ones. I thought I did as a doting auntie but it is different (though I also realize that as an aunt I am able to see the good without any underlying crap..so trade offs). I love being able to look at Michael looking at our kids and know what he's feeling. <br /><br />But it is also nice to have them for the hard stuff. When we were a trio it allowed us to have another adult with us when things are hard and now we can be man-on-man. When I think of the scramble that my poor mom had when one of us was sick or when both of needed to be somewhere at once. Until I had to deal with childcare scramble myself I used to fondly remember the little bed my mom made for my sick self under her desk at work and the sleepy morning drop offs at my aunt’s house because she needed to be at work before school started.<br /> <br />Since Andrew is in a major feisty moment of life ATM I also really enjoy having someone to side-eye and laugh at my kids with. With Michael, I know that I can share any frustrations or incredulity I have while knowing he knows the depth of my love and fondness for the little nut job.<br /><br /><br />As for the cons there aren't many I can imagine yet. Co-parenting can be somewhat tricky in ways I guess. It is hard enough to know what to do but then to add in another voice. Plus in a single parent household there is one ultimate answer rather than a two person committee (really a poly household would be good for tiebreakers). <br /><br />I didn't ever imagine myself in such a family. Another piece of evidence that sometimes you just don't know what you want and need in life. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-40980292707577720592017-01-21T20:50:00.001-08:002017-01-21T20:50:41.487-08:00Here's the thingI'm not marching today. <br /><br />I could say it is because I decided the forum thing we went to last night was my action. Or that I wanted to stay with my still kinda sicky family. Or that I feel like my little buddy needed a Saturday morning with the four of us and especially me. <br /><br />All of that is true but none are why I'm not out there. <br /><br />I'm sad and mad at us all. I can't get over it. How did this happen. And these marches just baffle and sadden me more because when you see the turn out and the passion it begs the question of why wasn't that enough before the election? What is wrong with us? How did this much fire not ignite when it actually mattered?<br /><br />Plus there is the fact that i feel like I've been slapped in the face as a woman. Really I do. It's easy when you're surrounded by upstanding men and a kick ass female boss and other phenomenal women to ignore how fucked up the world is. But our president was on tape saying disgusting things about a woman and he was elected. Hillary Clinton still had to apologize for how she dealt with her husband's infidelity while her opponent got little beef for actually being the philanderer. We still absolutely suck at how we treat women as a society, how woman treat each other and how women still have to do the same jobs 100x better to even be considered. <br /><br />I'm so disheartened. Or was, the stories and images from today's march are somewhat cooling the burn I've had in my gut since the election. <br /><br />Now I look and am sorry to have missed such an historic and beautiful gathering. I just couldn't. I needed the extra beat to think about things. <br /><br />My resolution to action is to make it my mission to defeat the only nearby republican congressman. He doesn't represent this region and his party doesn't represent the America i think we deserve.<br /><br />My first trip to D.C. In 2004 was for the march for women's lives. I guess that's part of it too, I'm sad that we are still doing this. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xVwUkPlT0bw/WIQ6IDhjpUI/AAAAAAABRyw/5-0-HmEhQkI/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xVwUkPlT0bw/WIQ6IDhjpUI/AAAAAAABRyw/5-0-HmEhQkI/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='217' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-28821775860180525222017-01-01T10:41:00.001-08:002017-01-01T10:41:40.744-08:002017: digging outThe snow on the ground this morning was symbolic for me. It is a symbol of the figurative digging out that I need to do in 2017. Personally, in my relationships with others, nationally against the pile of crap coming our way. <br /><br />We tried to do a best of 2016 for our family during dinner last night. I will preserve the answers here for posterity:<br /><br />Best movie: M&A- Paddington, a-how do dinosaurs eat their food (Christmas gift)<br /><br />Best trip: A&a- California and the swimming pool. M- pacific beach with the family <br /><br />Best adventure: all- Dozer Day! Runner up- kids quest<br /><br />Best month: M-December, A-July or August<br /><br />We sort of ran out of questions at this point. <br /><br />One thing I accomplished just under the wire was I put a bookcase in this baby's room FINALLY (like 6 months after I blogged about it). <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oexb7BO267M/WGlNRlZ7VjI/AAAAAAABRa4/TaEdCJ6YrVA/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oexb7BO267M/WGlNRlZ7VjI/AAAAAAABRa4/TaEdCJ6YrVA/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Bonus Christmas pics<br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OzyvDC22RKg/WGlNTf9A2GI/AAAAAAABRa8/AgOVGfySMHg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OzyvDC22RKg/WGlNTf9A2GI/AAAAAAABRa8/AgOVGfySMHg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MpKd35NkF4A/WGlNVgtMJ1I/AAAAAAABRbA/5j40qywHyjg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MpKd35NkF4A/WGlNVgtMJ1I/AAAAAAABRbA/5j40qywHyjg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IBiLK7JMTR4/WGlNXKmmTVI/AAAAAAABRbE/D3PHSTU8dQQ/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IBiLK7JMTR4/WGlNXKmmTVI/AAAAAAABRbE/D3PHSTU8dQQ/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MKJ50Ql03P0/WGlNYwTZSDI/AAAAAAABRbI/JSywfmmREDY/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MKJ50Ql03P0/WGlNYwTZSDI/AAAAAAABRbI/JSywfmmREDY/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-56803451812769050652016-12-15T19:54:00.001-08:002016-12-15T19:54:05.782-08:00Still here I'm still here but my lifeguard duties at bath time have gotten more intense now that Miranda tries to stand up and walk around the tub. Plus I don't pump anymore (!) so that time is gone. <br /><br />But here I am. Guess I should carve out non bathroom blogging time. <br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6WeyGod49T4/WFNlQTSv_0I/AAAAAAABQfI/gl0CNWfwgYg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6WeyGod49T4/WFNlQTSv_0I/AAAAAAABQfI/gl0CNWfwgYg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />This girl is a major daredevil climber. <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jvsHkWG72ow/WFNlSlXoCnI/AAAAAAABQfM/z83uzM1tT7o/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jvsHkWG72ow/WFNlSlXoCnI/AAAAAAABQfM/z83uzM1tT7o/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qd5ImvhDztc/WFNlVHzmg4I/AAAAAAABQfQ/WwUr8-KP4g0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qd5ImvhDztc/WFNlVHzmg4I/AAAAAAABQfQ/WwUr8-KP4g0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Swinging in the snow <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-v0fNuLwOK5U/WFNlXchCNdI/AAAAAAABQfU/gqQkZNEcF6k/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-v0fNuLwOK5U/WFNlXchCNdI/AAAAAAABQfU/gqQkZNEcF6k/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-37842472573116911792016-11-21T19:51:00.001-08:002016-11-21T19:51:24.584-08:00Date reportI'm here in the future. Sadly Donald trump is still going to be president. <br />But Andrew and my date went well. It went exactly as expected and having the reminder from myself about expectations was helpful. <br /><br />It actually started off a little rocky because he decided to be pain and refuse to take a picture. This battle annoys me because I could likely coerce a photo but then I don't want one of me and my coerce-ee. So I was already a little annoyed and a little leery of what Andrew-tude I was getting. But I checked my own 'tude and we reset and were on our way. <br /><br />We went to his favorite place for lunch and he was stoked since he'd been asking about it for weeks. <br /><br />Then we headed to Pike Place market. We walked around and looked at ferries in the sound. I realized how annoying it must be to be at everyone's butt height so we walked up toward west lake center and looked at the Christmas tree and whether they had a playground. Then we grabbed ice cream at cupcake royale. <br /><br />By then it was almost showtime. <br /><br />I was most worried about his reaction to the theater. We were early enough that we had time to walk around and go up to the stage and generally get a lay of the land. I plied him with chips which they allowed the children to eat inside the theater (crazy!). He was not pleased when the lights went down and sat on my lap with hands over ears for a song or two. But he couldn't resist the raffi and before long was having a decent time in my lap. The sillies kicked in and he got wiggly on me/in his seat/in the aisle. I let him do his thing as long as he was being a decent audience member. <br /><br />As for me, i enjoyed the show SO much. There were tons of groups of three or even four generations. It made me really happy to see him with Andrew even if it wasn't the highlight of our special date to him. <br /><br />I didn't take many pics <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ru6xAETiuI8/WDPAl-gKEbI/AAAAAAABPmc/FwQ72hhT0Bk/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ru6xAETiuI8/WDPAl-gKEbI/AAAAAAABPmc/FwQ72hhT0Bk/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y6Qr25GsZcw/WDPAnw0XAsI/AAAAAAABPmg/WfFK0Y1-KdA/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y6Qr25GsZcw/WDPAnw0XAsI/AAAAAAABPmg/WfFK0Y1-KdA/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7rtbiucqFoI/WDPApi6xByI/AAAAAAABPmk/eMpbYk4n2dY/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7rtbiucqFoI/WDPApi6xByI/AAAAAAABPmk/eMpbYk4n2dY/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HH4X5z1CpDQ/WDPArdmJ5jI/AAAAAAABPmo/kPuAv99yiZE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HH4X5z1CpDQ/WDPArdmJ5jI/AAAAAAABPmo/kPuAv99yiZE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0RUan7sYllw/WDPAtVJXENI/AAAAAAABPms/Ane2rXZRl_o/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0RUan7sYllw/WDPAtVJXENI/AAAAAAABPms/Ane2rXZRl_o/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kKy-vOZIMN4/WDPAuzmZbDI/AAAAAAABPmw/rWieWdakAg0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kKy-vOZIMN4/WDPAuzmZbDI/AAAAAAABPmw/rWieWdakAg0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-60407750424084246112016-11-19T20:15:00.001-08:002016-11-19T20:15:17.954-08:00Note to future self I'm really excited about the mother/son date I have tomorrow with Andrew. But I am writing myself a little reminder here to <b>have the proper expectations</b>. <br /><br />While I have visions of Andrew and I, getting lunch and tromping around Seattle then heading to the raffi concert in great spirits before rocking out to America's most beloved children's folk singer. The reality is that Andrew is his own self and his enjoyment of the day and concert are up to him. I can fully imagine him soaking up the first part of the date I described but absolutely being uninterested in the concert. His right. I won't let him be a jerk about it but he is tentative in new situations and just might not be that into it. <br /><br />I genuinely want to see raffi perform- the songs All I Really Need and Thanks A Lot are special TO ME. But my choice of date means being flexible and having reasonable expectations. <br /><br />So, future amber, I hope it went awesome and if it didn't I hope it wasn't because you expected too much and the day still ended as a great mommy/son day for the books. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fcHaOQUCYSY/WDEjVOXdngI/AAAAAAABPhI/uCvOmyngc0Q/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fcHaOQUCYSY/WDEjVOXdngI/AAAAAAABPhI/uCvOmyngc0Q/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Will report back!<br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-17826475964351820692016-11-17T09:54:00.001-08:002016-11-17T09:54:12.276-08:00Onion of shitThe layers of hurt are just so deep. <br /><br />I'm not saying I'd have voted for ANY woman but I was counting on electing a woman and the fact that we didn't against someone so wildly unqualified hurts me. <br /><br />A personal anecdote that keeps popping into my nogs. <br /><br />I spent all of my high school days busting my hump for the class of 1999. I served as sophomore and junior class treasurer, I led our spirit committee for three years, I did all of the footwork to scout out prom locations and costs and borrowed my mom's car to drive my classmates around to see them all. And I was planning to be the senior class president. I was ready and I had earned it. <br /><br />When the time came for elections a football player approached me. Friendly guy, bit of a stoner, the lovable flake. He had decided to run for president. He was sort of mocking me but as a professional high school politician I kept my cool. I told him that if he felt like he had something to offer our class he should and I'd run my hardest to beat him. He laughed. I went home and cried. <br /><br />Either I got to him or his flakey stoner-ness made him miss the filing deadline. Either way he flaked and I ran unopposed. <br /><br />It hurts that this doesn't just happen to high schoolers. That the scale is boundless. And yes, it could have happened to a nerdy boy - it is generic light bullying. But my femaleness and my preparedness were absolutely being used against me then. And they are used against women now. Because we are used to it and it feels shitty but normal. I'm still optimistic for little girls today. Scratch that. I was optimistic until we just showed them this stark example between a qualified woman and a man who was not only unqualified but outwardly hostile and disrespectful to women. <br /><br />I remember 16 year old me crying in my car, why the fuck is 35 year old me having to do so again?<br /><br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-6250127922563663482016-11-14T23:22:00.001-08:002016-11-14T23:22:46.412-08:00I'm a little lost. I wasn't sure what path I was on before but as we've finally started getting our shit together in my house I was sorting out a plan. I'd started volunteering a little again. I thought I'd found a useful and fun place to give a little time and money to. <br /><br />Now I'm confused again. What can I do? What is my part in mitigating this hideous new reality? I'm trying not to be hyperbolic but every piece of evidence seems to indicate that I'm in line with reality. <br /><br />The charities I'd settled on seem like frivolous extras in what is now a crisis situation. <br /><br />I am so heartbroken about the choice this country has made and I'm terrified of what this moment in time means for what is next in our history. <br /><br />Pictures that now punch me in the gut. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--kSuH96u4ew/WCq3txpu2jI/AAAAAAABPVQ/AF2iPhJsdvs/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--kSuH96u4ew/WCq3txpu2jI/AAAAAAABPVQ/AF2iPhJsdvs/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DNW8ZEbMlpU/WCq3vtPeeoI/AAAAAAABPVU/tgO8qnw1e4U/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DNW8ZEbMlpU/WCq3vtPeeoI/AAAAAAABPVU/tgO8qnw1e4U/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uliUvzhHbRs/WCq3xR2I0CI/AAAAAAABPVY/rJPe130x-X0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uliUvzhHbRs/WCq3xR2I0CI/AAAAAAABPVY/rJPe130x-X0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone<br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473546300886765844.post-87478496096733704202016-10-30T19:27:00.001-07:002016-10-30T19:27:29.115-07:00Washington, you're doing it wrongWe went to the beach! Last weekend of October. You'll be SHOCKED to learn it was rainy. <br /><br />M's dad rented us all an awesome base house with a killer ocean view. His family had been going here for many eons and it was cool to get to bring our kids with him. Sadly this weekend was the first available so we didn't exactly get to do it the sunny way. <br /><br />But we tried! <br /><br />The full day we were there it was a torrential downpour but we attempted the beach with hopes of a break. No such luck <br /><br />It was pretty comical, the sand for sand castles was soaked and heavy. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NXXD10fkaYk/WBar4FOmIgI/AAAAAAABOv8/OVSa4mWukzo/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NXXD10fkaYk/WBar4FOmIgI/AAAAAAABOv8/OVSa4mWukzo/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YiGEsvDslcg/WBar6U8DINI/AAAAAAABOwA/52xDh6lrGl4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YiGEsvDslcg/WBar6U8DINI/AAAAAAABOwA/52xDh6lrGl4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Miranda was not buying it. <br /><br />But we explored and did our best to enjoy the surroundings. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oBVLqEylehI/WBar8V3ChnI/AAAAAAABOwE/UtGs5QouuZQ/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oBVLqEylehI/WBar8V3ChnI/AAAAAAABOwE/UtGs5QouuZQ/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /> <br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ucl4n5nChPQ/WBar-8v8cSI/AAAAAAABOwI/2Msgmjv-d3U/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ucl4n5nChPQ/WBar-8v8cSI/AAAAAAABOwI/2Msgmjv-d3U/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='280' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />But the true value of the trip came from hanging out with M's family. We watched movies and colored and played Zingo. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5nVqPKklUsc/WBasAaISSmI/AAAAAAABOwM/v2Y7Zlcq050/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5nVqPKklUsc/WBasAaISSmI/AAAAAAABOwM/v2Y7Zlcq050/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D0--rx_DXOE/WBasCe9NcVI/AAAAAAABOwQ/yi2HAH2o-qs/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D0--rx_DXOE/WBasCe9NcVI/AAAAAAABOwQ/yi2HAH2o-qs/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Andrew slept in a twin bed for the first time which felt crazy. <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-j2x4uREmufI/WBasELAaRAI/AAAAAAABOwU/jiV3uAouI9E/s288/iphone_photo.jpg'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-j2x4uREmufI/WBasELAaRAI/AAAAAAABOwU/jiV3uAouI9E/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />I feel like Washingtonians are sadly under experiencing what a real beach weekend is. But they are cute for trying. <br />aeephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05689224956222574899noreply@blogger.com0