tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109628962024-03-07T01:45:40.327-05:00Seriously.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.comBlogger797125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-38748169190585500502012-04-19T12:45:00.000-04:002012-04-19T12:45:40.110-04:00FinSeven years of blogging. Sounds like a good number to go out on. This space has served its purpose, I think. It gave me a creative outlet, a place to grieve, express myself, find new friends and explore a world of craft, art, photography.<br />
<br />
It was a huge part of my life and helped me cope with life and celebrate the ordinary. <br />
<br />
Somehow I don't feel like I fit in this place anymore. In fact, it makes me profoundly tired. I've outgrown it, I guess. <br />
<br />
Time to explore new possibilities, new ideas. <br />
<br />
Maybe I'll start a photoblog. That's one thing I never seem to get tired of.<br />
<br />
I'll add a link here at some point if I decide to head in that direction. In the meantime, I'll always be posting to<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/"> flickr.</a> Can't stop me. It's like a disease.<br />
<br />
Thank you to all my loyal readers and commenters for keeping me going as long as I have.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-17877385226966147072012-03-21T14:04:00.000-04:002012-03-21T14:04:39.548-04:00Recycle BinCleaning out my phone of a few recent shots.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6857415368/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7121/6857415368_a9745341b5_z.jpg" width="478" /></a><br />
Sitting on the sidewalk in the sun, waiting to pick up Drew.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/7003531393/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6113/7003531393_80c9be56c4_z.jpg" width="478" /></a><br />
Spinach smoothie. Breakfast.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/7003530117/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6051/7003530117_e6396f5978_z.jpg" width="478" /></a><br />
Lots and lots of walking. And a little running.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6857416102/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6233/6857416102_928c2ceb7e_z.jpg" width="478" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/how-to-make-crispy-potato-chips-in-the-microwave-166718">Microwave potato chips.</a> Thanks, Emma!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/7003531453/" title="IMG_1218 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1218" height="572" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6238/7003531453_4d3842df65_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
My new ring. 10x bigger than I thought when I ordered it. Love it.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-16926310030992550662012-03-14T08:31:00.001-04:002012-03-14T08:33:11.518-04:00Sometimes<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6981821819/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7200/6981821819_23d5e6fbe0_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
<b><i>it feels as if</i></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6835698782/" title="DSC_0711 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0711" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7182/6835698782_56c8d424c4_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
<b><i>a very small, very angry person</i></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6835697402/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="426" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7055/6835697402_78921bb10c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
<b><i>is making all the rules.</i></b>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-89434216603086367562012-03-13T09:55:00.000-04:002012-03-13T09:55:08.392-04:00Puddle stompingI decided to revisit walnut boats with the boys. <a href="http://seriously-lee.blogspot.com/2010/11/little-creative-fresh-air.html">Last time we made them</a>, we were limited to a kitchen sink boat launch because of weather.<br />
<br />
But yesterday evening, the warm spring air and the morning rains had given us perfect waterways in the rutted driveway of the vacant driveway next to ours.<br />
<br />
The boys each made their own sail and Ethan helped me fill the walnuts with dripping hot wax.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6833062892/" title="Walnut boats by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7055/6833062892_5651b79126_z.jpg" width="426" height="640" alt="Walnut boats"></a><br />
<br />
They lined up the fleet at some sort of prearranged starting point. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6833063552/" title="The Launch by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6833063552_39f90bc2f0_z.jpg" width="640" height="513" alt="The Launch"></a><br />
<br />
After that, we were all a little unclear how these boats might "race" each other. The boys decided they would blow on them to get them going.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6833064210/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7184/6833064210_9f28e57523_z.jpg" width="640" height="453" alt=""></a><br />
<br />
It was pretty intense.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6979190503/" title="Walnut boat race by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7038/6979190503_cac06707e9_z.jpg" width="640" height="426" alt="Walnut boat race"></a><br />
<br />
Within seconds, boats were tipping and sinking and hopes were dashed.<br />
<br />
Sadly, one unfortunate walnut was even stomped on in a fit of rage.<br />
<br />
Then came the natural progression of chaos and splashing and mud in the eyes.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6833067554/" title="DSC_0668 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7205/6833067554_3f9635f9cb_z.jpg" width="396" height="640" alt="DSC_0668"></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6833068066/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7192/6833068066_4a3763d1ea_z.jpg" width="640" height="546" alt=""></a><br />
<br />
And, not much later, bath-time.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-3930153434293831522012-03-08T16:06:00.000-05:002012-03-08T16:06:05.158-05:00Medical historyIn my closet today I found a lined piece of paper folded up inside a book. Nothing profound, just some notes I had jotted down during my OT internship living in Providence. I was trying to keep a more personal record of my everyday interactions with patients. Something more human than the treatment plans I labored over every night.<br />
<br />
I'm glad I found these. I remember each of these patients clearly.<br />
<br />
January 21:<br />
<br />
Portuguese, 91 years old--constructional apraxia. This morning he put his straw in his pancakes and leaned over to take a sip. I had to redirect him 2x. The confusion in his eyes made me want to cry for him. How hard to grow old. Later, we laughed together over the language barrier.<br />
<br />
<br />
Walking down the hall with a patient we heard E, a little old African American woman, legally blind, twisted and shriveled in her chair singing, "Amazing Grace", her head tilted to the side. Beautiful voice. When she finished, everyone at the nurses station stood up and clapped.<br />
<br />
<br />
January 22:<br />
<br />
The therapist I was shadowing said he was her hardest patient yet. An Asian man who insisted on watching Good Morning America during ADL's and refused to sit while grooming or dressing. He kept referring to the differences between The East and The West as excuses for everything. I could barely stifle my laughter the whole time especially at his comment while dressing, "I'm too intellectual for this nonsense!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And, on the back of the paper, a poem, which as weak and rough as it is, brings back a visceral anxiety, remembering those three months:<br />
<br />
Every week I face my fears<br />
and pick them up<br />
and put them on. I wear them<br />
like a sweater<br />
all week long.<br />
<br />
Til Friday comes<br />
and gasping, I can<br />
throw my fears aside.<br />
They sit there in the corner<br />
and watch me all weekend long.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-28206554683705926202012-03-06T13:57:00.001-05:002012-03-06T13:58:56.350-05:00Every day is yours to winOn his birthday or Christmas, Andrew would often request a mix CD. Sometimes he would give me a list of specific songs. For the most part we shared a love for the same kind of music. I could usually predict what he would like.<br />
<br />
Andrew also introduced me to some obscure bands and singers. He was always up on the latest thing and knew what kind of sound I would like. Whenever these bands come out with new albums, I listen with him in mind.<br />
<br />
A few days before he died, Andrew stopped by our house and I remember discussing a particular new song with him. I asked him if he'd seen the video and he hadn't but he liked what he'd heard.<br />
<br />
In the days after his death, I worked on a presentation of pictures and videos from his life. We decided to use his brand new laptop to set up and run the slideshow. I opened up his media player to get started, and there was the last song he had listened to. The one we'd discussed together.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I fell in love with a song from R.E.M.'s farewell album. Just a sad, sweet, somewhat vacuous song about making the most of life.<br />
<br />
Listening to it today, as I drove to meet a friend, it struck me why. I knew Andrew would love it too. Exactly his type of song. No one else would quite understand why I turned up the volume, pressing play over and over, the bittersweet breaking my heart.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-82334269647965451212012-02-20T15:27:00.001-05:002012-02-20T15:28:03.236-05:00Out with my hobosThe boys have a couple days off from school for mid-winter break. With the sun shining and snow gone, I managed to convince Ethan and Drew to get out and explore with me.<br />
<br />
I've really wanted to try the town trails in the winter sometime. A real winter. With real snow. Instead, we maneuvered around a little mud and leaves. Still, nice to get outside.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6911608167/" title="Paint Creek Trail by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7070/6911608167_89b56cb249_z.jpg" width="426" height="640" alt="Paint Creek Trail"></a><br />
<br />
It was fun to be out with just the older boys. No need for bathroom breaks or snacks. They were constantly making me laugh.<br />
<br />
We saw two or three suspicious looking characters in the woods and they would shout out, "Hobo with a gun!"<br />
<br />
We found a little pond, if you can call it that, in the Dinosaur Hill section of the trail.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6911615685/" title="Ice! by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7204/6911615685_7d70457019_z.jpg" width="640" height="426" alt="Ice!"></a><br />
<br />
It took the boys a little while to get used to the ice.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6911625993/" title="There were a few falls by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7191/6911625993_72073ebce2_z.jpg" width="640" height="391" alt="There were a few falls"></a><br />
<br />
Every time it cracked a little, they would shout at me to get off saying, "But you're the heaviest!"<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6911618159/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7038/6911618159_47f6e57560_z.jpg" width="426" height="640" alt=""></a><br />
<br />
Ethan had grand schemes of ice-hockey. Which lasted until he stepped through a thin spot in the ice.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6911622645/" title="Makeshift hockey by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6911622645_c385fb0597_z.jpg" width="640" height="426" alt="Makeshift hockey"></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6911620665/" title="Hockey-ish by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7041/6911620665_2d131cf511_z.jpg" width="640" height="426" alt="Hockey-ish"></a><br />
<br />
We headed home, had a few impromptu races on the trail. Not gonna say who lost every single one. Still fun.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6911705929/" title="photo by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7208/6911705929_5ef228af8c_z.jpg" width="640" height="480" alt="photo"></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-67996517131040027932012-01-31T17:03:00.000-05:002012-01-31T17:03:45.148-05:00With the needlesPattern: <a href="http://navlne.blogspot.com/2009/12/knitting-pattern-capucine.html">Capucine</a><br />
<br />
Yarn: Malabrigo worsted merino, Deja Vu, a little more than one skein<br />
<br />
Left off the tassel in the back.<br />
<br />
Loved the pattern, love the yarn. Not sure if I can actually pull off wearing it. Maybe I'll get brave.<br />
<br />
In the meantime I had to pay Ethan to model it for me:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6797913427/" title="Ethan as hat model by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7026/6797913427_6fa72210a9_z.jpg" width="426" height="640" alt="Ethan as hat model"></a><br />
<br />
He was thrilled.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6797914953/" title="Capucine by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7031/6797914953_9f850abebe_z.jpg" width="640" height="448" alt="Capucine"></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-18651375536108968622012-01-23T17:56:00.001-05:002012-01-23T17:58:05.593-05:00GrandpaThis morning, for no particular reason, I remembered the last conversation I had with my Grandpa S. He was about to leave his home in New Hampshire for a nursing home in Florida. Florida, with the palm trees he despised.<br />
<br />
Keith and I were getting ready to move in and rent his house. I went over the night before he left to say goodbye. We stood, down in a dusty corner of the basement as he attempted to entrust his very particular home maintenance into my unskilled hands. He showed me the fuse box and how to empty the lint trap in the dryer.<br />
<br />
We both acted as if he was just going on a short vacation. I think a part of him believed this. Cruel time put a lump in my throat. I tried not to let him see my tears.<br />
<br />
Independent, stubborn, prickly, a fierce perfectionist, able to make us laugh until our faces hurt. I often see him in myself. A hard man to love. Loved deeply, nonetheless.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-63449167498330292592012-01-12T17:52:00.005-05:002012-01-12T20:18:40.614-05:00Social phobias go to StorytimeToday I renewed my efforts to socialize our monster son. As we climbed into the car together, I turned on the cheer. "Adam, this is going to be fun! Just you and me!" <br />
<br />
Adam, from the back seat, "When we get back home it will be<i> more</i> funner."<br />
<br />
Yes, I had to silently agree. That's exactly how I feel. Let's go, get this done and get back home. Quickly. Preferably before anyone sees us. <br />
<br />
I'm here to tell you there just isn't much of anything more tedious than Storytime at the library by the time you are attending with Child #3. It's like having to repeat Kindergarten three times. Who wouldn't get bored? Right?<br />
<br />
Adam and I reluctantly joined the circle of fresh-faced young moms with their designer diaper bags, stilettos (yes!) and their precious offspring. These mothers ooze enthusiasm. Every utterance of their child is greeted with wide-eyed coos and delighted laughter. Every movement celebrated. I always marvel at their energy.<br />
<br />
I grew so weary of trying to involve Adam on any level that we both sat and stared grumpily at the carpet. Mothers and newborn babies performed elaborate dance steps all around us and placed their beanbags appropriately on their heads. Adam growled and kicked me.<br />
<br />
We stuck it out.<br />
<br />
When the last repetitive page was wrung dry and the goodbyes handed out, we fled to the toy section of the library before the other horrible human beings could follow.<br />
<br />
Adam played happily for about two minutes until a little boy wandered over. We moved away to a nearby mirror. Our new friend, apparently without a guardian, joined the shot.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6686648845/" title="Library mirror by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7143/6686648845_2b43807c22_z.jpg" width="515" height="640" alt="Library mirror"></a><br />
<br />
<br />
"He keeps FOLLOWING me!" was Adam's outraged cry.<br />
<br />
Oh, boy after my own heart. Why do I need to change you?ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-65220202316923420022012-01-10T16:51:00.001-05:002012-01-11T08:19:12.184-05:00File this under useless informationSo, I've had this pomegranate that I picked up with a rare spirit of adventure sitting on my counter for a couple weeks, mocking me.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6675240985/" title="Pomegranate by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7008/6675240985_9fb5ca1b74_z.jpg" width="640" height="466" alt="Pomegranate"></a><br />
<br />
I remember having some of this fruit as a girl and liking it. But I also have a more recent memory where I tried to reproduce this childhood experience and something wasn't right. I wasn't sure if my trouble was cutting into the fruit, or just with the taste.<br />
<br />
Either way, I thought I'd try again.<br />
<br />
Believe it or not, there is a correct way to cut these and it makes a difference.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6675242253/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7005/6675242253_932cf44e09_z.jpg" width="640" height="426" alt=""></a><br />
<br />
Cut vertically through the stem (core?). Also, it might be good, if you value your clothing, to wear an apron or possibly an entire hazmat suit. This baby is messy. Lucky for me, I have no clothes that aren't already covered with stains and holes. It's my signature look.<br />
<br />
Make another vertical cut and then pull the seeds away from the membranes by hand.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6675248761/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7151/6675248761_ca61d79ba3_z.jpg" width="426" height="640" alt=""></a><br />
<br />
One tip I read was to drop the seeds in a bowl of water and the membranes should separate and float to the top. Kind of a scam but worked some of the time.<br />
<br />
<br />
My kitchen looked like a violent crime scene by the time I'd finished. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6675250245/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7143/6675250245_e258af4dd2_z.jpg" width="640" height="426" alt=""></a><br />
<br />
After all that, I didn't find the seeds that wonderful. Love the flavor but hate the chewy texture. They taste just like those berries you know you probably shouldn't sample while wandering around in the woods. The kind where someone yells, "Hey, don't eat those!" That kind.<br />
<br />
But, you know who really did like them?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6675251469/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7165/6675251469_e97cc311b5_z.jpg" width="640" height="473" alt=""></a><br />
<br />
Innocent little children. They devoured those seeds and screamed for more.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6675253865/" title="DSC_9926 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7011/6675253865_e983f779c7_z.jpg" width="640" height="483" alt="DSC_9926"></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-3615495473481183632012-01-02T19:48:00.000-05:002012-01-02T19:48:56.581-05:00Kids keepin' it realIt just might have something to do with the fact that I'm their mother, but I'm fascinated by the pictures my kids take. I had way too much fun going through our little camera today, deleting most shots and finding a few keepers from as far back as October. <br />
<br />
They pose for each other in different ways than they might for me:<br />
<br />
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I love seeing the world they choose to frame and the items they find important.<br />
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There were more than a few hideous shots of me in various degrees of Bad Hair Day. I reserve the right to edit in this case.<br />
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I realized while clicking through the shots: these blurry, gritty moments are a truer representation of my life than the carefully cropped, often edited bits I choose to show.<br />
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Because the truth ain't always pretty. The truth has a lot of bad hair days in this house.<br />
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Just in case you were wondering.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-35005048015007388102011-12-19T16:02:00.000-05:002011-12-19T16:02:50.405-05:00HobbledFor a couple years Ethan has been complaining, usually at the end of a soccer season, that the bottom of his heels hurt. At first we thought it might be a mild injury, and later maybe just his shoes. It subsided for a while and then returned.<br />
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Since his soccer time has increased this past year, the pain came back and didn't leave. We tried new shoes, new inserts and enforcing rest periods. It would seem to get better, I would forget about it and then glance out at the soccer field and see him limping like an old man.<br />
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Finally, a week or two ago, after a visit to a specialist, he was diagnosed with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sever%27s_disease">Sever's Disease.</a> Not a huge deal and not terribly uncommon in young athletes.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6539578865/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7018/6539578865_1c402fa58c_z.jpg" width="457" height="640" alt=""></a><br />
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Now it's just a matter of icing, stretching, good support shoes and possibly limiting some of the time he's on his feet. The first three we can do. Limiting soccer? Not so sure.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-21822146886203089462011-12-18T08:00:00.000-05:002011-12-18T08:00:56.164-05:006 years agoAll through my pregnancy with you, I held my breath. Every time a nurse was unable to find your heartbeat and wandered off slowly to find a doctor, I closed my eyes and turned myself to stone. It happened a lot.<br />
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The morning before you were born we headed to the hospital because I couldn't feel you moving. I tried everything- the orange juice, lying on my side. Nothing. As we drove to the hospital, I was almost able to convince myself that you were already dead. <br />
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Just as we pulled in to the sprawling Beaumont campus, I felt it. A kick, a punch, something. And I knew with sudden clear joy, I wasn't leaving without you. The car seat would have a baby in it when we left the hospital this time.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRltKE_Ikbe64mWU1WCCKju9iTQjC8mzyshBWoFkNfAZURT-9I6ZczpEgzRrFG4HaCHfYQASyFSmSFtnZZfvmujaFdhZnDxNaNpEQJ-uzsrLmTgpPYxQSv5UxScb7vc_aE0lydg/s1600/DSC_0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:center; float:center;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRltKE_Ikbe64mWU1WCCKju9iTQjC8mzyshBWoFkNfAZURT-9I6ZczpEgzRrFG4HaCHfYQASyFSmSFtnZZfvmujaFdhZnDxNaNpEQJ-uzsrLmTgpPYxQSv5UxScb7vc_aE0lydg/s400/DSC_0857.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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I'll never forget the sound of your first cries. Loud, insistent wails. Such a contrast to the silent delivery before yours. Relief and joy and sadness. And so much joy.<br />
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Drew. You are creative and fun. You make us laugh almost every day. You don't really like hugs but you occasionally endure them for my sake. You've loved your little sister since you first put your hand on me and felt her move. You are a little bit of a mystery.<br />
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We love you and are so glad you're here.<br />
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Happy birthday!ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-7725175405086891272011-12-16T10:54:00.001-05:002011-12-16T10:54:09.024-05:00Friday foto<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6521177995/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7014/6521177995_6fa7aef55b_z.jpg" width="640" height="411" alt=""></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-70592335765249695782011-12-11T12:02:00.000-05:002011-12-11T12:02:42.471-05:00PlansWhat may or may not be included in this day:<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6493370735/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7173/6493370735_b2625b577b_z.jpg" width="640" height="428" alt=""></a><br />
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::Christmas projects<br />
::Decorating giant gingerbread man (Trader Joe's was sold out of the house kits)<br />
::Homemade pumpkin spice latte (<a href="http://vanillaandlace.blogspot.com/2009/11/pumpkin-spice-latte.html">info here</a>)...without pumpkin puree<br />
::Comforting sick, fussy baby<br />
::Skipping soccerljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-84990977153055760072011-12-09T12:06:00.001-05:002011-12-09T12:11:01.734-05:00Back on the gridSnow is falling, the kids are playing quietly for the moment, and both of our computers are back in working order. Finally.<br />
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Computer trouble began last week with my geriatric laptop, It hobbled, stumbled, crashed and burned. For years now its use has generated enormous energy just short of puffing smoke so I really wasn't surprised by its sudden refusal to function.<br />
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The PC was another story. It's a fairly recent acquisition and the most accessible, used unit in the house. Completely fried.<br />
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Keith scrambled around and managed to get the laptop up and working(for now) and backed up the PC before eventually installing a new hard drive. Amazing and a little scary how we missed it.<br />
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So, that's my excuse for no Friday photo last week.<br />
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But, I've got one today! <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6482256461/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7141/6482256461_1342a923a9_z.jpg" width="640" height="426" alt=""></a><br />
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There are quite a few things I will not be sad to see my children grow out of. Sprawling block creations are not one of them.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-28196524945135357892011-12-01T14:51:00.001-05:002011-12-01T14:57:05.429-05:00The forest in spite of the trees<i>The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet. <br />
-</i>James Oppenheim<br />
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I've been struggling lately with my own tendency toward discontent. I see my own feelings mirrored in the whining of my oldest son, so much my clone.<br />
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When Ethan reports in an aggrieved tone that so-and-so in his class has a new ipad and this other one went on a cruise, I don't react well. I become annoyed at him, angry at the entitled brats, and exasperated at myself. Five minutes later, I find myself wishing I could buy him an ipad.<br />
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I've been feeling a desperate need to teach him how to be content. But how can I model this, when apparently I haven't learned it myself?<br />
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Thanksgiving, I thought. That will do the trick. We'll count our (many!) blessings. We'll name them one by one! We'll feel better! We'll all get some perspective here.<br />
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We tried.<br />
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I try. I purpose to put aside all whiny, unattractive behavior. The seal breaks off the dishwasher (again) and through clenched teeth I mutter my mantra, "Give thanks". The little things become so heavy, unrelenting. My resentment stacking up like falling snow. A lack of cupboard space reduces me to tears.<br />
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Three things helped me a little this past Sunday. A Fernando Ortega song, better than any sermon. An <a href="http://www.bibleclassbooks.com/teaching-values/contentment.html">article I read</a> after googling for help. Is there anything more pathetic than trying to save your child's soul with Google?<br />
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This rather random article was full of so many good reminders. Once again, I'm measuring my success by the wrong standards. Money and possessions. Comfort and ease. Sometimes it is all I can see.<br />
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Contentment is not gratification. We don't have to have everything we want. It is finding satisfication in what we do have. In savoring what is ours.<br />
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Sunday night I turned on 60 minutes and there was a segment about homeless children in Florida. They interviewed a girl who lived with her brother and father in a truck. Every morning they try to find a new gas station bathroom in which to brush their teeth before heading off to school. Her spirit was so strong and hopeful in spite of her circumstances. I was ashamed.<br />
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So, here I am. Surrounded by good things, a recipient of so much grace. Getting my focus back on those savor-worthy moments whenever they arise.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-62001617923452016822011-11-25T20:14:00.001-05:002011-11-25T20:14:50.028-05:00Friday<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6401893473/" title="e.e. cummings by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7161/6401893473_a9a2c66b71_z.jpg" width="478" height="640" alt="e.e. cummings"></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-10225622037283827712011-11-18T13:23:00.000-05:002011-11-18T13:23:25.020-05:00Friday Foto<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6358994715/" title="Library garden by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="Library garden" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6040/6358994715_3f1a3a0acc_z.jpg" width="458" /></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-42336077340508123302011-11-16T12:22:00.000-05:002011-11-16T12:22:37.990-05:00How to spell ThanksgivingI've been looking forward to the Thanksgiving season. It's good for my mental health. Actively replacing all my natural discontent and worry with the reality of what's good. So many good things. <br />
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We plan to do the ol' listing of blessings at some point, whether I find an original way to do it or not. In fact, we do a daily version of this but it does become pretty rote. <br />
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Recently I came across the word "Obrigado" in a book and it brought back a flood of mostly-repressed memories from intern days in Rhode Island. A time when I carried around Portuguese flashcards in my scrubs, hoping to communicate with patients. Really, it was my supervisor I should have worried about. Sadly, there were no flashcards to help me speak petty tyrant.<br />
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This, with another post I'd seen recently<a href="http://ohhappyday.com/2011/11/thanksgiving-pie-topper-diy/"> using pasta letters</a> to make name-cards, gave me an idea.<br />
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A banner with "thank-you" in several different languages. Good for the fine motor skills, pre-reading skills and more!<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6350282739/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6115/6350282739_7bae8e024a_z.jpg" width="474" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6351028298/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6224/6351028298_66f3c805ec_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6350284753/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6232/6350284753_e3ec713c78_z.jpg" width="457" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6350285243/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6233/6350285243_4c6b0a8224_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-38940212060328871422011-11-11T10:45:00.002-05:002011-11-11T10:45:31.338-05:00Friday Foto (Ethan's latest obsession)<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6333473438/" title="Bob feels like a pawn by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="Bob feels like a pawn" height="478" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6225/6333473438_5e01841bf6_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-34766070965093353962011-11-10T18:08:00.000-05:002011-11-10T18:08:28.004-05:00Yarn it allI recently tried my hand at dyeing yarn for the first time. I wanted to make duck feet for Sadie's costume but had no yellow yarn the right size. I did, however, have yellow food coloring and an old skein of white yarn. The transformation was so satisfying, I knew it would be something the kids would enjoy.<br />
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With the long weekend in mind, I bought several packets of Kool-Aid. Each of the boys picked 2 different colors, Ethan found directions for dyeing on<a href="http://knitty.com/ISSUEfall02/FEATdyedwool.html"> Knitty</a> and we were off. Some of the process in pictures, both low and high resolution:<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6332497495/" title="mosaic8089edce58cf94dbec98015e34135111a1e2c6a4 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="mosaic8089edce58cf94dbec98015e34135111a1e2c6a4" height="216" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6212/6332497495_922cbc9ff2_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6333249494/" title="DSC_8471 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_8471" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6094/6333249494_469af08fc2_z.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6333249966/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6212/6333249966_11d1f8f80b_z.jpg" width="458" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6332499485/" title="DSC_8504 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_8504" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6234/6332499485_18fb5c56a4_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6332500199/" title="DSC_8523 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_8523" height="446" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6219/6332500199_211b8ba8d4_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6333252290/" title="DSC_8555 by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_8555" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6052/6333252290_8e1cc0014c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6332501513/" title="Untitled by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6047/6332501513_2bd4bcb2c9_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-28508355871672169462011-11-08T15:18:00.000-05:002011-11-08T15:18:02.290-05:00We survived a four day weekend!Ethan and Drew had yesterday and today off from school. Some teacher professional development business or other. It's made for a bit of a lull in the usual routine, if life with four kids can ever have such a thing.<br />
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I didn't have anything spectacular planned other than keeping my head above water. I've found that kids have a way of happily filling up time themselves. Ok, not always happily. But, for the most part, we have had two fairly laid back days together which were badly needed.<br />
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There was:<br />
-lots of raking (including one of our neighboring vacant homes)<br />
-reading<br />
-at least one game of Bananagrams<br />
-soccer games (always)<br />
-visits with neighborhood friends<br />
-yes, there were quite a bit of Mario Striker games and SpongeBob episodes, I admit.<br />
-one blessed 45 minute period when Keith took ALL the kids voting with him. I vacuumed in peace (did I just say that?) and when I finished vacuuming, I enjoyed every last second of quiet. The cat and I looked at each other. And smiled. (did I say that, too?)<br />
-a visit to the library<br />
-haircuts for two of the boys<br />
-homemade tattoos (not my idea) which eventually just turned into stamping themselves <br />
-a little bit of knitting (after the kids were in bed lest you think me so indulgent)<br />
-one fun craft project involving yarn and Kool-Aid (more of that for a separate post)<br />
-lots and lots of coffee<br />
-and, oh yeah, way too much yelling and screaming and general fighting <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljmax/6326153787/" title="Long
weekend by SLeelee, on Flickr"><img alt="Long weekend" height="321" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6037/6326153787_e521ec3710_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
There was NOT:<br />
-any driving to and from soccer or school (Bless!)<br />
-hateful morning poking and prodding to GET READY, brush your teeth, get dressed already! In actual clothes, please!<br />
-packing of lunches<br />
-homework (!) Yes, you heard me, NO homework! What are elementary schools coming to these days? So lax!<br />
-no need to dress a certain way (No, you can't wear shorts and a t-shirt to school again, Ethan. People will judge me!)<br />
-endless scraping of frost from car<br />
-waiting in the Kindergarten car loop (although, I really kind of enjoy those quiet moments)<br />
-an abundance of patience on my part. But that's nothing new.ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10962896.post-18333962875050140552011-11-05T12:18:00.001-04:002011-11-05T12:58:39.246-04:00(Video after all the angst)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
It's one thing to know your child is delayed. Another thing to stand in a children's shoe store, picking out her overpriced orthopedic shoes and observe her among peers. The contrast could break your heart. Or mine, really. There she stood as two twin girls just a little older than her, literally ran and climbed circles around her in every way possible.<br />
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It took a couple tries, but I finally found an orthopedic surgeon who knew what to do for Sadie. Other than calling her "he", this doctor sized up the situation quickly, saying that her problem is severe pronation and nothing more. Instead of the barbaric night-time splint thingy another doctor fancied, this one recommended specific orthotic additions to good shoes. More than I've ever spent on shoes for myself but hopefully effective.<br />
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In the meantime, as we wait for these diamond-encrusted specimens to arrive, she makes very slow progress at staying on her feet.<br />
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I grabbed the camera yesterday when she was outside taking some steps. I realized I haven't videotaped her in a long time because her milestones might look like failure to others. Time to change that.<br />
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<embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="510" src="http://blip.tv/play/AYLcwzUA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="640" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />
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Music: Simon and Garfunkel, "Feuilles-O"<br />
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<i></i>ljmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17636461842297063133noreply@blogger.com6