tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41134076870509775812024-03-05T23:21:58.955-08:00Life With ArloA frazzled first time mom's account of life with her son and everything in between.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-24080190986829669972016-08-21T10:41:00.001-07:002016-08-21T10:41:56.369-07:00Don't Check Your Email on the Weekends: A Reminder to MyselfAlthough weekends are now exceedingly precious to me as they are the most quantifiable and qualitative time spent with my family, I, as an anxious individual tend to check my email at work so that I do not come in on Monday and feel bombarded. I've done that in the past to help alleviate anxiety; but I think it's now having an opposite effect. Thankfully, when reading my daily meditations with Frederick Buechner, today's post rang true entitled " Adversaries":<br />
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" In this war of conquest we all must wage, there are also the adversaries with whom we have to wage it; and they are adversaries of flesh and blood. They are human beings like ourselves, each of whom is fighting the same war toward the same end under a banner emblazoned with the same word that our banners bear, and that word is of course Myself, or Myself and my Family, or Myself and my Country, or Myself and my Race, which are all really Myself writ large. It can be the most ruthless of all wars, but on the other hand it need not be, Saints and Sinners fight it both. Ghengis Kahn fought such a war under such a banner, but so did Martin Luther King Jr.. It can be the naked war of the jungle, my ambition against your ambition, my will against your will,,, it is often the war of the just against the unjust . Whichever it is, it is the war of flesh against flesh: to get ahead, to win, to regain power, to survive in a world where not even survival is without struggle."<br />
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Sigh. This work/life balance is hard.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-71205580387251515722016-08-13T19:15:00.001-07:002016-08-13T19:19:20.124-07:00UpdateI'm finding it difficult to sit down and write anymore, but I've had a few reminders lately that this is a passion of mine that I should continue, however mundane my thoughts might be.:)<br />
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Quick update: Annie Gray is now 9 months, crawling and will be walking soon enough. Her colic has subsided, however, she still remains a very spirited young lady. She loves to eat, listen to music, and reminds me a lot of my dad. Has a very obvious temper but also enjoys just being held. She likes watching the weather reports on TV and is interested in singing ( dad was obsessed with weather as well as his father, Both had weather radios that were always on, blaring away no matter what was going on.:) She is a daddy's girl through and through and watching Geoff and Annie Gray together melts my heart and increases the love and gratitude I have for him. We're a full family now, and I can't stress enough how lucky I am to have Geoff as my husband and best friend.<br />
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Arlo is so amazing. He has definitely taken on the role of big brother with humor, kindness, and empathy. Of course as a big brother, he has his moments of " older sibling" syndrome... but overall, I am so proud of him. He starts first grade on Monday and I am so very confident that he will do well. He cracks us up on a daily basis from his ruminations on the illuminati to his pokemon knowledge and ability to understand and participate freely in the process of pokemon go, something a year ago might have been difficult. I feel he has gained so much confidence this summer in making friends and I thank Geoff and my in laws for supporting him in this as I went back to work full time in June.<br />
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I love my job, This is what I need at this time in my life. It was tough at first leaving the kids. In all honestly, I still feel some guilt going back, But in the few months I have been back I have felt more confident, assertive. I feel like a "better" mom and person. I admit that I am struggling with finding myself again-- a momma without kids and other responsibilities and relationships. Thankful I am working with teenagers now as it might have been more of a struggle working with the little ones. Thankful I have begun to foster friendships with people that I work with-- something I thought that I was never totally good at in the past, although in discussion with Geoff tonight he reminded me of all the friends I've made along the way that we still connect with.<br />
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I feel happy and content at the moment. I feel supported and loved. I feel grateful. And of course, for those of you that know me well-- I feel like maybe I'm making mom and dad proud.<br />
<a href="mailto:laurabeth78@gmail.com">laurabeth78@gmail.com</a><br />
<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-41254364864796867062016-02-03T17:26:00.002-08:002016-02-03T17:26:57.479-08:00Welcome to Parenthood. Again.Well, it's been a long time since I've updated this blog. Many things have happened, but the biggest thing that has happened is the arrival of our newest family member, Miss Annie Gray, born 10/24/2015, 2 weeks earlier than scheduled.<br />
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We're now into February, and things haven't changed since welcoming Arlo into the word. <br />
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<u><strong>THIS SHIT IS TOUGH</strong>.</u><br />
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Going from one kid to two is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life besides dealing with the loss of my parents, and if you truly know me, this speaks volumes about what we're dealing with right now. I love Annie more than I can explain, yet, I am so lost. So frustrated. Her smiles are absolutely beautiful and for the short time in which she decides to give those smiles, I am smitten beyond belief. My heart lurches forward and I feel so lucky to have her and be her mom. I see so many people in her eyes, her face... my dad, my mom, Geoff's Aunt Katie... and the way she looks at and loves Arlo is beyond anything I can describe. But we have ourselves another "high needs" baby. Some call it colic, some describe it as just having a " grumpy beast of a baby", but whatever it is, it's rough, and both Geoff and I are struggling. She won't nap unless she's being held. Sleeping at night equals her being up every hour, sometimes with screaming that we can't find a reason for. Geoff and I fight. We fight over who slept the most, who got the most sleep, and who deserves it the most. Poor Arlo isn't getting what he needs from us, and I think this is the worst part for me. My son, my heart and soul, feels slighted because mommy isn't 100 percent there for him anymore. I get it. I miss him so much. I miss our relationship before all the madness. I hope he doesn't grow up to resent me, Geoff, or Annie.<br />
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I'm divulging all this information because I think a lot of moms don't. They feel ashamed, they feel guilty, and I'm here to say that there are so many of us in the same boat, and that those feelings are a byproduct of the need to be "everything to everyone" and be<u><strong> good</strong></u> at it, by standards put in place by others. This need is, of course, ridiculous and if I may say so, dated and not a realistic goal of being a mother or a person in general. If a friend were to come to me with his/her feelings that resembled mine, I wouldn't think twice in saying " You're a great mom/dad. You're doing the best job, and I am here to support you. Let me know what I can do to help. " Because at least for me, that's what I need. Unconditional love and support.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-52300388994982400592014-08-30T13:23:00.003-07:002014-08-30T13:23:51.409-07:00For Arlo<br />
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<br />
<table align="CENTER" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody>
<tr><td>No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="111"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td>Am an attendant lord, one that will do</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="112"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td>To swell a progress, start a scene or two,</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="113"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td>Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="114"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td>Deferential, glad to be of use,</td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"> </td></tr>
<tr><td>Politic, cautious, and meticulous;</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="116"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td>Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="117"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td>At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="118"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td>Almost, at times, the Fool.<br />
</td><td><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="119"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
- T.S. Eliot, <em>The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock</em><br />
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Dear Arlo,<br />
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We've learned a lot together, you and I. These past 4.5 years of cultivating each other's lives have entertained a tangled yarn ball of every emotion I've ever experienced, multiplied by 8. At times, I've felt I have been the ultimate warrior in shaping your identity. But more often, I have felt ( and still do) the fool. <br />
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Apparently that's what parenting is. Feeling, more often than not, that you really have no clue what you're doing, but doing it anyway. <br />
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As I head back into the workforce next week for the first time since the doctor wrestled you from my very oversized belly, I want you to know and fully understand how much the time I've spent at home with you has changed me. I am more of a fool than I was before, no doubt. Each year of being a parent makes me feel more and more confused. But I am also much more comfortable being a fool... meaning that I now possess the confidence to laugh at myself, which I didn't have before you were here. My confidence is the direct result of having you in my life. Your laughs, your screams, sleepless nights, power struggles, even your knock-knock jokes... everything you've ever done or experienced has been incredible, one way or another, and has significantly enhanced my life. <br />
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This next phase in our mother/son saga will be different. Not bad, just different. We'll both need to adjust to my work/life balance, and while I am obviously sad to be leaving this part of my life behind, I am truly excited to see how our relationship grows in other ways. I truly enjoy seeing you get older. I don't know many parents who say this, but I do. Your personality is unlike any other I've known. I love hearing you talk about dinosaurs and Canada and trains. I love watching you evolve as my determined, caring, dramatic,intelligent and quirky little man.<br />
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Mommy loves you more than anything else in the world, Arlo. Always.<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-62143980868136275592014-06-21T16:08:00.000-07:002014-06-21T16:08:07.403-07:00What's Next?Arlo loves to know what's coming up next. He is my mother's grandchild for sure, and if I'm being honest here, I also thrive on knowing "what's next". I'm guessing this is a hereditary thing. From the moment he wakes up until he goes to bed, he is always asking about what will happen in the next portion of our day. And sometimes, I don't have an answer for either him OR myself. <br />
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I finally graduated with my MSW in April, and the " what's next" portion of my brain is very active. I've been a stay at home mom now for 4.5 years... much longer than I had ever envisioned. Part of me is amazed at how quickly time has passed, and part of me feels like it has been 20 years since I last had a job. <br />
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I'm now at a point where I really, really want to get back into the workplace and use my degree and skills to assist others. I mentioned to my husband this morning that I just feel flat. I don't feel like I'm doing anything to give back to the community, and this bothers me. So this afternoon I spent my time going through endless papers and documents from school and organizing them... so much so that when I was finished, I decided to start working on weeding out all of the random papers I have kept from my mom and dad's house. In doing this, I found a letter that my dad had kept in a folder entitled " keepers ". In this folder,there were a couple of sappy letters from me with a barrage of quotes from other people-- this is how I usually expressed myself as a teen/young adult. There were a few blank cards my dad had bought and never sent out, and then, a letter from my mom to me. On yellow lined paper, dated 3/21/79. I had read the letter with my mom many years ago, and she explained to me that she wrote it the night before she and my dad had ever left me alone with someone else for more than an evening. She explained that she wrote the letter in case anything had happened to them. I remember her laughing when she initially showed it to me- I was probably like 12 or so- but after seeing it then I never saw it again until now. As she was most certainly planning for what might be next, her words were anything but anxiety laden. They were calming and loving, and more evident of someone living in the moment than I think she ever realized. Her words are timeless, and without the anxiety of someone needing to know the what comes next. She writes:<br />
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" I hope your life is full of love and joy. I know that there will also be pain and disappointment and I only hope that this will make you a stronger person... if I could choose to give you all the qualities that would make you have a good life, I would want you to have the ability to be unselfish and know the feeling that comes from giving to another without thinking of yourself. I would want you to be able to risk your own sense of security in order to gain and grow from new experiences. I would want you to know what comes from loving and being loved... I would want you to feel the specialness and uniqueness of yourself." <br />
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So after reading this tonight, I know what's next. Being the person she wanted me to be. <br />
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Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-14455174897996145202013-09-13T17:49:00.003-07:002013-09-13T17:49:24.168-07:00Mother and SonToday I had a downright amazing day with Arlo. We didn't do anything new, travel anywhere exotic or interesting, or encounter anything extraordinary. We traversed the mundane... yet had a blissful time doing so. It becomes inherent to me, in times like these, when I realize that with each day my child gets older, our mother/son relationship grows with reckless abandon, and I absolutely love it.<br />
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I look back at Arlo's earlier years with fond memories, but if I'm being honest, I don't always necessarily yearn to have them back again. Sure it was nice when I could cart him around to various places and not have to worry about him running off and disappearing into random clothing racks or the candy isle at Target. Of course I loved watching him learn to crawl and walk, and cherished many of the moments that I attempted to rock him to sleep at night. But I have decided that with increased age comes such incredible personality ... and with every morning I am so excited to encounter whatever new phrase he's going to repeat throughout the day, or what song on the radio he's going to either approve or disapprove of, his most recent obsession being the "banjo station" (aka Sirius Bluegrass).<br />
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While having lunch today, a little girl ran up to Arlo and began screaming " Hi, Arlo! Hi! Hi!" all the while twirling her hair and looking at him excitedly. His face went from his normal pale complexion to beet red in about 4 seconds. He smirked and said quietly " Hi, Sophia" and then hid his face. She ran off to her mother and Arlo continued to hide his face. I waited a few seconds and then asked him who the girl was, in which he replied " my friend who is a girl at school. Sophia." At that moment I felt really proud, and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I witnessed a key developmental phase in Arlo's growth, the " oh crap, I've been seen in public with my mother" phase, or maybe it was how happy the little girl was to see Arlo. In any case, seeing him grow and develop as a person is so amazing. His interactions with and thoughts about the world around him are incredible, and I feel so fulfilled accompanying him on his life journey.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-21448428546211896972013-08-18T18:35:00.000-07:002013-08-18T18:35:45.065-07:00SurvivorsI've always been a fan of the National Lampoon Vacation series. Chevy Chase's depiction of the clueless, giddy yet ultimately gracious and humbled family man is one of my favorites, and the underlying plot asserting Murphy' law of vacations that " if it can go wrong, it probably will in some fashion" rings true when reflecting on our recent initial full-family sojourn to Florida.<br />
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<b><u>Before I go into the details of our trip which at times might err on the negative tip, I want to emphasize that we had a great time overall, and I mean that in all earnestness. We had a wonderful visit with Geoff's brother Mike and his fiance, Jessi, and this in itself was reason enough to travel to Orlando and encourage future trips.</u></b><br />
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Oh, and the wizarding world of Harry Potter was awesome as well.<br />
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Now, onto our Chevy Chase-esque adventure.<br />
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This was Arlo's first time as an air passenger, and he assumed the role like a pro. He navigated the airports with the ease of a pharmaceutical rep from Eli Lilly slinging Prozac, and was very calm during the flight. Well, the first flight. The flight back he was somewhat restless and at one point began to take his seatbelt off. Geoff and I were completely frazzled by that point in time and mentioned to him that the police " air marshals" would come and tell him to put his seatbelt on if he didn't listen to us, to which he very loudly exclaimed " BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO TO JAIL".<br />
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Once we arrived in Orlando, we disembarked our flight and had a little trouble locating our baggage claim area. Once we found it, I'm not sure what happened, but Arlo wasn't having any of it. He conveyed his frustrations through his many attempts to run away " MOMMY, IT'S HARRY POTTER AND MINIONS AND SHREK" ( after escaping my grasp and sprinting towards a poster for Universal Studios) , refusal to walk, and just generally not following instructions.<br />
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And it was H-O-T. Like camping that year at Deer Creek for Phish hot. But with luggage and a very tired 3 year old and many miles still yet to go. We got our car and set out for the hotel and we pretty much guessed our way to the hotel( Geoff has a great navigation sense). Once there ( <b><i>NO</i></b> thanks to Onstar) we all collapsed.<br />
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Next day we awoke and immediately got ready for what I thought was going to be our vacation "it" factor. Little did I know it would be more like our vacation "shit" factor... Through media and Disney stores and Disney junior and mass marketing etc etc I mistakenly thought that my kid would become the happiest kid on earth in the " happiest place on earth". I. was. <b>SO. WRONG.</b> In retrospect, I had encountered several telling reactions towards our " Disney demise"- most notably from a momma friend who would giggle nervously and look the other way when I would discuss our trip details with her.<br />
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So we got to the park early, as everyone else in the world apparently does. 18 dollars later, we walked to the entrance and made a beeline for the monorail. Arlo was pumped about riding the monorail, but when we got to the line to get on said monorail, IT WAS CLOSED. " Sorry folks, gotta ride the ferry!" exclaimed an overly chipper park attendant. This should have been our first sign to just turn around and go back, but we pressed on. Now about 8:45AM local time, I was already sweating buckets, waiting in line for this magical ferry. We were herded on board and smashed together like some theme park crazed sardines. Once off the ferry we encountered more difficulties getting into the park, as their finger ID system eluded Geoff and I. We were yelled at by the ticket guy " only one fingerprint per person!!"but were finally granted access to the " land of dreams and creativity". We rented a stroller and Arlo immediately began to cry even though we had just purchased a gold plated water fan thingy for him ( I say gold plated because the price indicated that it had some sort of value other than plastic and dirty water). Main street was packed already at 9:30 AM, and an eccentric crowd of over-eager mouse eared wanderers and enthusiasts were already scavenging and devising their plans for the day. We, however, managed to simply score a map and decided to just try and play it by ear. Apparently you can't do that at Disney world.<br />
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We started with a walk towards somethingorother. Fantasy land, Future world, something. I think they all start with the letter F. At any rate, Arlo threw a fit the entire walk towards the castle muttering something about being scared. Never did figure out what that was about. We walked towards whatever land houses the dumbo ride and the little mermaid stuff and attempted to take him out of his stroller and stand in line. He freaked out. Put him back in the stroller, walked him towards the race cars. Tried to stand in line for that. He started hitting and screaming, so back in the stroller he went ( sorry, i don't care if i'm at Disney world, if you throw a fit, you get a time out). Had him watch dumbo ride. Screamed and cried. Bought him a cookie, refused to eat it. Finally we decided to cut our losses and go back and sit somewhere for a few minutes. Geoff had to go to first aid for a huge cut on his foot, so we tried to watch a parade. Again, another epic fail. FINALLY we decided on embarking on the train that goes around the park, and that was a success. Oh, and I got my Dole Whip thing. That was cool.<br />
We go back to the hotel ( our checkbook is now uncontrollably SOBBING with our costly mistake) and contact my brother-in-law and his fiance, who quickly come to our aid and whisk Arlo off for a few hours so that we can all take a breath and realize that Disney is not our thing, but we can still salvage this trip, which is what we did. The next few days were awesome. We went to Universal, which was much more our speed. Arlo enjoyed all the kiddie stuff and I pretended I was a student at Hogwarts. We went to dinner and had laughs playing in the pool. I think I saw the guy who played Jacob on LOST at whole foods. I finished my JK Rowling crime novel( which was excellent, BTW).<br />
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Most importantly, we SURVIVED our first real trip as a family of 3.<br />
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Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-5825226804242839802013-06-29T11:59:00.001-07:002013-06-29T11:59:57.049-07:00Life with Arlo ReviewI'm embarrassed that I haven't written much at all in the last year- writing used to be my " go to" therapy, but as I write so much for school, I've slacked off immensely. So here's an update of my life with Arlo and a break from the recent norm of journal writing and trying to use APA format correctly:<br />
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-I never knew I could love someone so very much. Arlo is so funny, so creative, so happy. I see a great deal of my eccentricities in him and a lot of Geoff's determination and strength. This kid is my entire world.<br />
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- We're still heavily into Thomas the Train. I guess it's better than being into Calliou, cause man, I can't stand Calliou. Thomas and friends may be irritating at times, but at least the narrators of the Thomas series are folks like Ringo Starr, Alec Baldwin and George Carlin. That's a win in my book.<br />
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- Arlo just finished his first year of "school" with Creative Tots here in Cincinnati. He had a great year and I am pleased with how much his confidence has grown just within the last few months.<br />
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- Potty training: Meh. Work in progress.<br />
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- Arlo's new favorite song is " Runaway Jim" by Phish.<br />
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- We'll be doing the Disney vacation this summer. Not sure if we're ready or not, but I felt like since I've been so busy with school and Geoff with work that a nice Arlo-centered vacation was in order before fall semester starts and bulldozes family time. We'll be visiting with Geoff's brother and his fiance who live in the Orlando area, and Arlo is very excited about this as are Geoff and I.<br />
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- Geoff's parents, otherwise known as " Grammaw and Paw-Paw" continue to be a positive, amazing force in Arlo's life. They provide constant, consistent support and love for Arlo and I am so thankful that they are so active in his day-to-day life. I honestly don't know what we would do without them. Words consistently fail me when talking about how important they are to Arlo as well as Geoff and I.<br />
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- We've decided ( for now) to stay in our current home and update it instead of moving. School district is great and the locale is superb. If it ain't broke...<br />
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- We're all still missing mom and dad. It's hard not to, especially as Arlo gets older and starts asking questions like " Where are Gram and Duke?" and " why can't I go see Gram and Duke?" But I know they are somewhere watching over us, no doubt laughing at my parenting fails and Arlo's hilarious nature. We sold their house to a family with twins- and while I constantly debate my decision to sell, I know it was the right thing to do. Another family needed to inhabit that house and provide it with love and memories, just as my family did.<br />
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That's all for now- I hope to write more before the summer ends and fall begins.<br />
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Much Love,<br />
Laura Beth<br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-49127817842780026612012-10-20T12:21:00.000-07:002012-10-20T12:21:13.190-07:00I Made a PlaylistI made an awesome playlist recently, to chronicle my youth in Bowling Green the best way I could. Well, <em>I</em> think it's awesome. I tried to take all the songs that made me think about my youth and put them into one list... and needless to say, it's pretty random. From NKOTB to the Fresh Prince to Weezer to my love of musicals... I think it gives the unknowing listener a very personal glimpse into who I was as a kid/teenager/young adult living in a small southern town. After listening to it for the first time, I started to think about who my influences were as far as who introduced me to certain artists and albums. I realized that at least half of everything I listened to from Jr. High on I began listening to at my best friend's house as we "borrowed" most of her older brother's albums when he was conveniently out of the house, or in the car when he was driving us around town and needed to drown us out. ( I still have <strong><u>no idea</u></strong> why he would want to drown us out. We were/are awesome.) <br />
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Pre-Jr. High I think a lot of what I listened to was what my parents were into. I kept the giant German wardrobe thingy that they kept their records and turntable in( thanks for moving that, Craig and Geoff:)). Lots of Simon and Garfunkel, Gordon Lightfoot, Don McClean, James Taylor, Billy Joel, John Denver... and then of course you have the commonplace pre-teen jams by folks like Debbie Gibson, Tiffany, etc... I still remember calling the radio station to request a song so I could record it. Oh, and buying "singles" so I didn't have to buy the whole album. <br />
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Big hitters on the list: R.E.M., They Might Be Giants, 10,000 Maniacs, Indigo Girls... These are the bands I hope my son discovers in 10 years or so and asks me " hey mom, did you ever listen to( fill in the blank)." I will proudly shout "<strong>YES!"</strong> and fervently dig up my antiquated cassette tapes and Cds, and we will spend a weekend soaking in the somewhat angst-ish musical tastes mommy preferred when she was "young". ( Geoff will have his own weekend in which they listen to Jane's Addiction. I will be out of town that weekend.)<br />
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Some of these songs just scream " teenage Laura in age-appropriate boy crisis", and I think it's hilarious. I can still see myself listening to some of these tunes, sitting in my room, wondering how in the world artists such as the Rolling Stones, Simon and Garfunkel, Edie Brickell, the Indigo Girls, and Tori Amos could have written songs that were about <strong>MY EXACT SITUATION.</strong><br />
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And then there's Steve Winwood.<br />
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I love Mr. Winwood. Born from earlier roots of Traffic and Blind Faith, this guy is one of my favorite artists. I saw him play with Ricky Skaggs and KY Thunder in Telluride years ago, and their onstage collaboration of " That's The Way it Is" ( which is STILL not on an album yet :/) was probably THE highlight of my live music sojourn thus far. But his song " Back in the High Life" will forever remind me of living in Bowling Green. I'm pretty sure WKU did a campaign for the college (primarily focusing on the athletic department)that featured this song in a commercial on both the TV and radio... and every time I hear it, I'm transported back. Back to my mom/dad's car, the mall, basketball/football games, Halloween, Christmas, Bowling Green in general. I'm transported back to all of it, into a nice little slide show in my brain.<br />
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A good friend of mine also put together a "BG" playlist recently, and although his memories were more focused on Jr. High on, it's funny how many of the same songs/artists we both included without consulting one another beforehand. It's obvious my friends were very influential on who and what I listened to, and for this I am very thankful. Music makes my life, and this playlist has certainly helped me to remember it fondly. <br />
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-76620831818534039962012-08-19T09:27:00.000-07:002012-08-19T09:27:53.215-07:00For Ed, wherever I may find her<br />
I'm lucky.<br />
<br />
I'm lucky enough to have not just one, but two people I can truly call my best friend. One of those people is my husband; in the 9.5 years or so we've known each other, he has had a remarkable gift at being not only my partner in love, but also being an honest to goodness companion. <br />
<br />
The second person has carried the title of "BFF" for much longer. We first met at a birthday party when we were in the 6th grade. Our first act of friendship was a game of ping pong in a hotel lobby in which most of the balls ended up on the second floor terrace or in the pool-- a very appropriate foreshadowing into our friendship...goofy and genuine... and it was never about what we were <em>doing</em> per say, only that we did it together, whether it be ping pong games, cruising the mall, visiting various tennis courts in town, irritating her older brother to the point he began refusing to drive the two of us anywhere together. As the years went by, we continued to find humor and grace in the world around us and within our friendship. She was the friend who helped me mend my first broken heart and every one since then. She saw me through those difficult teenage years yet still loved me regardless of my neuroses. She was my maid of honor at my wedding, and was there when my son was born. She was there with me when both my parents died( and when I say "there" I don't mean just emotionally. She was literally <u>standing right next to me</u> through it all). A couple of weeks ago she helped me put all my parents' belongings in boxes, which was not an easy task.<br />
<br />
I write this because I love her, and I think she's probably the strongest person I know. She deserves to be reminded of what an amazing person she is, and I feel like I need to be better about expressing my gratitude. As the course of our lives continue to change, she is still a constant in my day-to-day despite living 3 hours away. I hope I can be as good a friend to her as she is to me. <br />
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Love you Ed. Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-61928280509380566242012-07-04T10:57:00.000-07:002012-07-04T10:57:29.338-07:00Home<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I've used this quote before, but as I edge close to selling my parents' house and things, I have needed to refer back to these words to help me deal with the internal struggle I've got going on: </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">" The first thing the word <strong>home</strong> brings to mind is a place, and the next perhaps most crucial thing is people and maybe utltimately a single person." - Frederick Buechner, <em>The Longing for Home</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I know it's just a house. And the things in it are just things. They don't define me, my parents, our memories, our life together... but damn if it doesn't feel like they do. Over the past year or so I've come upon so many "things" in that house that make me feel so connected to them although they aren't physically here anymore. Random stuff-- reading glasses, pocket knives, letters, books... the stories behind all the furniture. Everything had a story, or at least a small ancedote behind it. I'm <u>still</u> learning about many of the things in the house with help from family and friends. My parents took great pride in attempting to lead a graceful and meaningful existence, and I have to say, they did an amazing job, even with all their "stuff".</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I can still feel them when I'm in that house. Geoff and I laugh about the phantom noises we sometimes encounter when we're there.... my dad snoring in the living room with the 1987 RCA television blaring sportscenter in the background at 2AM....the ever present clink of ice cubes in the kitchen... my mother guffawing at something on the food network... and the fierce bark of Abbey who usually barked at nothing in particular. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Home, for me, used to be wherever my parents were. Then it became wherever Geoff was. Now it is wherever Arlo and Geoff are... but I'm always searching for that first, initial feeling of home that my parents provided for me... and I guess I feel like selling the house will undoubtedly take that away from me in some way. </span>Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-63583375670205430002012-06-12T15:34:00.001-07:002012-06-12T15:34:46.309-07:00A Little More GroundThings have continued at their busy pace since last I wrote. Graduate school has ended for the summer, and I have a little over 1 more year to go... I ended up with all A's and one B. Turns out I'm not as adept at social policy history as dad was.. but one of the last things he said to me about school was " I hope you get a B. I don't mean to be an ass, but straight A's aren't necessary... you know I'm proud of you, no matter what." I guess he got his wish.:)<br />
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Arlo started " school" this summer, and absolutely loves it. No tears, screaming on the first day... just a huge grin that said " I'm ready, momma. And also, I see that they have a train table" and off he went. My father-in-law came with me on that first day since Geoff was working, and I'm convinced the only reason I escaped somewhat emotionally unscathed is because of his presence. That and the train table. <br />
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I'll have enough to occupy my brain this summer without school. We're slowly getting my parents' house and it's contents ready to sell/.auction. Who knew old tattered shakertown baskets and ancient wooden wagons would turn a profit? I admit I wanted to scrap most of that stuff. because I thought they were merely decorations. Very glad I've had a team of friends and family to advise me otherwise. <br />
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As father's day comes upon us, I realise again what I have lost. There are some moments in which I feel like I can't breathe. Many moments when I want to cry for hours. The anger is also supremely difficult to wade through most days. But I remember what I presently have, which is a knowledge of two amazing, beautiful, graceful and giving individuals who are my parents. I am comforted somewhat. I use the present tense not because I'm horrible with grammar, but because they are STILL my parents, regardless of whether they are with us physically or not. I still show Arlo pictures of them, we still call their house " Gram and Duke's", and he is responsive to this, although I have to say when he says " where gram" but more often " where duke, mama" I get very sad. I don't know what other feeling to have with that.<br />
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What I want: to be able to call them both, to say " hey, here's what I did" or " hey, I totally screwed up" and hear their voices say " we love you, we're so proud of you, uncondtionally". The reality, obviously, is that this cannot happen. Yes, I hear it in my heart, but it's not the same. The selling of their house and things is horrendusly hard. It's like I'm selling them, their lives, and their memories. I know this is probably just part of the grief process, but it's how I feel at the moment. It might be different if one of them were still here to help, and although I have a tremendous amount of love and support, and the end of the day, it's a lonely process. Being an only child is not the best position at the moment. <br />
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But, things must go on. And I conclude this entry with lyrics to one of my favorite songs that keeps me going when I'm feeling low and helpless:<br />
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<em>The wheel is turning and you can't slow down<br />You can't let go and you can't hold on<br />You can't go back and you can't stand still<br />If the thunder don't get you then the lightning will</em><br />
<div class="chorus">
<em>Won't you try just a little bit harder<br />Couldn't you try just a little bit more<br />Won't you try just a little bit harder<br />Couldn't you try just a little bit more</em></div>
<div class="verse">
<em>Round, round, Robin run around<br />Gotta get back where you belong<br />Little bit harder, just a little bit more<br />Little bit further than you gone before</em></div>
<div class="verse">
<em>Small wheel turning by the fire and rod<br />Big wheel turning by the grace of God<br />Every time that wheel turn round<br />Bound to cover just a little more ground</em></div>
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<br />Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-73685812524253884432012-03-20T18:40:00.002-07:002012-03-20T18:40:44.723-07:00Shadows<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After putting the baby to bed, I went outside to let the dog out. I had lit a couple of candles on the deck for ambiance and calm. I went over to the edge of the deck to check on Sadie when I noticed my shadow in the reflection of our kitchen window and candles. How large and confident that shadow was. How tall and sure. And that’s when I realized: I want to be my shadow. I long to be my shadow. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some days are easier than others. Today is in the mediocre category. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I woke up to a cheerful household and personal disposition, yet now after the day is done I am somewhat pensive and wistful. When they say that the death of a loved one is like a roller coaster, however clichéd this might seem, it’s totally true. My proof: My “ Dealing with Death setlist” ( for me anyhow):Wow, What in the World is Going on> Wow, Did That Just Happen?> Wow, That Couldn’t Have Just Happened>Crap,That Did Happen, and Piss on Everything because it did and I have to Deal with it All >That Totally Happened, and I get it, but it Still Sucks. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think it’s harder for me because I had to do it twice in less than a year’s time with two of my heroes, the people who knew me best and closest to me. Currently with Mom I’m in the “ Crap, That Did Happen” category, and with Dad It’s more of the “ Wow, Did that Just Happen” mentality. Psych folks, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get the connection to the Kubler-Ross grief model, and while I used to scoff at models dealing with such intimate, situation-specific and personality based emotions, with this one I don’t anymore. It’s right on, although I do inherently believe that folks bounce around the model like being jostled around in a children’s bouncy castle, or at least I have. Once you think you’ve come to a certain point that you can stand and be stable, some force, whether it be an emotional bully or just your own difficulty of the perfection of emotional homeostasis, you can go back to lying helplessly pummeled by outside forces on that rubbery bouncy castle floor very quickly. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One thing I’ve learned over the past year is the importance of help. Not just of having it, but also of asking FOR it. Friends and family are so important, and over the years I have neglected my tight woven net of pals and kinfolk for one reason or another… and now that I need them more than ever, they are here in droves. I am so lucky and fortunate, beyond what I deserve given my horrendous pattern of not communicating with people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So thank you, folks, and I hope you know who you are.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The anniversary of Mom’s passing is coming upon me. I typed in “us” beforehand and then realized it isn’t an “us” anymore since Dad is now gone as well.... I used to think people who had trouble with anniversaries like this had some thinking to do. “Why haven’t you dealt with it yet” crossed my mind many times… Now that I am in this position… it ain’t what I thought. I remember the smells, sounds of spring… and relate them to last year, mom being in the hospital, me going outside to get some fresh air… I miss her so. And I wish I had Daddy here to help. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pushing forward… I am still in graduate school to obtain my MSW. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still have a 4.0.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went to part time due to the fact that I now have to deal with an entire estate since Daddy passed away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few professors at UC have been great at helping me muddle through, glad I got to know them before everything happened, and I’ve made some great friends at school as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My inner Laura is slowly channeling the shadow Laura, with the help of family and friends. Thanks and much love to you all. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div>Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-76631699299295434472012-03-10T18:52:00.000-08:002012-03-10T18:52:48.104-08:00In God's Country(for grandaddy)A couple of weeks ago, Geoff and I were on a date night and discovered an amazing bluegrass band named the Infamous Stringdusters. They opened with a U2 cover of " In God's Country" off of U2's Joshua Tree album... I was instantly hooked. Not sure if it was the cover or the band, but I have this song on repeat on my itunes now. I started to think of my grandaddy as he loved the fiddle, and the fiddle player for this band was up to grandaddy's standards( or what I think they were). The BOOM of the bass kept me alert, and for the rest of the show, I couldn't stop thinking about " Stew-baby" and his love for the string opera. Grandaddy used to tell me tales of the days that he went to the fiddle judging competitions at Opryland, and I can only think that he felt the same thing, watching all the stringed instruments on stage converging into beauty and feeling a spiritual and strong connection the music, just as I have. I have often thought to myself, " the love of this music has to be inherited." Not a bad thing to inherit, in my opinion. I can recall him saying on several occasions that " nobody beats that gal, Alison Krauss. Nobody." Turns out these guys( Infamous Stringdusters) are on Alison Krauss's label, so I guess I'm not too far off of his standards.<br />
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So thank you, grandaddy. I love you and will always attribute my love for bluegrass music to you.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-73895028005602225502012-02-21T17:51:00.000-08:002012-02-21T17:51:17.939-08:00Initiation ( of sorts)Last night, Geoff and I had our first foray into the toddler/own child stomach virus arena. Poor Arlo woke me up at 11:15 ( yes, I was in bed, and had been since 9) crying. Just as I went into his room to check on him, I heard that vaguely familiar sound you hear when someone vomits. I didn't hesitate to rip him up out of the crib and sit him up on the changing table( thanks years of CPR training) and check for signs of difficulty breathing and breathing obstructions. He was fine, but he was so scared and confused, which begs the question: What in the world is going on in the mind of a child the first time they throw up? Is it " What in the hell is my body doing" or maybe more of a Talking Heads vision of " Well, how did I get here?" <br />
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Regardless of what he was thinking, he was frightened beyond belief. Geoff hadn't come home from work yet, and I was basically just encouraging him to " get it all out", which now I think is hilarious because he has no idea what that means. I think that was my 21 year old sorority sister dialogue coming forth. At any rate, Geoff came home quickly thereafter and said " I knew something was wrong when his light was on and I heard howling from the house." We changed his clothes about 4 times, and finally ended up in the living room watching Thomas and Dora at like 230 in the morning, with Geoff and I discussing Sir Topam Hatt's genuine intentions for the engines( we think he's a bit of a harsh employer and might be an IRS case to be explored) and how Dora is still sounds like she's screaming when she talks. About anything. I would hate to invite her to a dinner party, she'd be like Kevin Nealon's character in SNL called Mr. No Depth Perception, but hers would be related to voice volume as if her guests were 600 miles away: " PASS ME THE SALT! I NEED MORE GRAVY! HOW WAS YOUR DAY? I CLIMBED UP CANDY MOUNTAIN, WENT THROUGH THE BALLOON FOREST AND ENDED UP SOMEWHERE IN MEXICO!" <br />
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Somewhere between Dora and an episode of Blue's Clues Arlo finally nodded off, sitting up. He had insisted on keeping his mouth somewhat open throughout the ordeal primarily because I'm sure his mouth tasted horrible, and also because he was probably scared of what might happen again. Once he popped his pacifier in I knew he was feeling better, and I nodded off as well to the sounds of Steve and Blue attempting to solve the latest issue concerning where they had left Blue's Science Diet food and organic turkey treats. It was an intense night/morning, but we have now been initiated, and I feel more like a mom now. I now inherently understand what my mom was feeling when she would tell me " I wish I could take away all your hurt" when I was sick. Much thanks to my mother and father-in-law for answering their phone at midnight and assuring me that Arlo was going to be okay, and to my parents, who I know were watching over us and most likely cackling at how freaked out I was over puke.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-13022859651349441102012-01-16T19:43:00.000-08:002012-01-16T19:48:40.425-08:00The Nod I was fortunate enough to get down to Bowling Green on Friday morning to be with Daddy before he passed away early Saturday morning. When I got to the medical center, he was alert, lucid, and asked me " how were the roads, baby?" in pure Michael "always weird about the weather" fashion. I was greeted by my best friend, Erin, and her mother, Chris, who had been visiting with Daddy until I arrived. <br />
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He was weak, and I could tell in his voice and demeanor he knew what was happening. For about an hour or so, I held his hand, asked him philosophical questions about life, encouraged him to eat the orange sherbert someone had brought him, and watched him attempt to rest. I Then I heard a deep voice say " Laura Beth", and a tall figure entered the room with a smile and graceful sweeping of physicality. One of daddy's oldest and best friends entered the room. My father's eyes immediately lit up and then creased at the ends, a sign of sadness yet immense respect and love. <br />
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Over the next few hours, Daddy had many visitors-- neighboors, CEOs, nurses, social workers, friends... and over those next few hours, Daddy grew weaker, and it became evident that he was in pain. It was at this moment that his friend encouraged me to consider hospice. God, everything was happening so fast. Hospice? Now? But looking at him, I knew it was the right move. We consulted with the social worker and various nurses and doctors who agreed. He would be more comfortable. <br />
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I have to say a thank you to the Medical Center of Bowling Green for having such wonderful staff to assist with these issues. They assisted with my mother's care when she was sick, and I appreciate all of the doctors, nurses, social work and adminstrative's staff in her care as well as my dad's. The Medical Center of Bowling Green helped me in more ways than I can count or repay.The adminstrative staff at the Medical Center of Bowling Green is also amazing; I can truly, honestly say that they care about their patients and the care that they are given. I felt enveolped and humbled by their love and support. <br />
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Once we moved Dad to the Hospice of Southern Kentucky, he became more at ease, as did myself and his friends. He smiled more and was able to tell us what "hurt" and what he needed. Both myself and his lifelong frend Bill Mcdonald, and Erin Desmarais stayed by his side. His friends Nate and Katrina Phelps came by for a visit and rally-- but it seems that eventually he wanted only two of us to be with him when he passed- Bill McDonalnd and myself. Bill asked me to try and sleep, which I did. He eventually woke me with a gentle voice, letting me know that Daddy was almost gone.<br />
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Bill and I then floated over to his bedside, but at that time daddy was already gone.<br />
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That is when I got ' the nod". I will never forget the nod, Bill, and I will write about it for years to come,<br />
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Thank you, Bill, for your love and support. <br />
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The world was the way it should have been.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-28671812306332987712011-12-17T13:16:00.000-08:002011-12-17T13:16:48.818-08:00Holiday ReflectionsArlo turned 2 last week, and I can hardly believe it. Seems like yesterday I was up every 2.5 hours, praying for sleep, daylight, and sanity. It's funny, most of our friends told us we'd *forget* those difficult times, and while I haven't forgotten, I don't cringe as much when I reflect back on those nights/days. .. as a matter of fact, I have fond memories of exploring the wonders that are On Demand television and the art of adjusting his boppy appropriately so I could finish whatever show I was into at the moment. At 3AM, it was just he and I, and there was a sort of bond we built because of that. As mom would say, " that's neat, Laura." <br />
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Arlo is a bright, lively force in my life. Everyday he reveals a new parts of his personality that keep me astonished, humbled and curious. He loves Thomas the Train, singing his ABC's, and music in general. Gramma and Paw-Paw bought him a music kit for his birthday, and watching him rock the snare drum is pretty damn awesome. Truly, my family is blessed. Geoff and I have the unconditional support of his parents and our friends, and there isn't a day that goes by that I am not utterly in awe of the kindness and love that our family and friends give to us. <br />
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In some ways, though, observing and experiencing Arlo's milestones without mom is like a nasty scratch in your favorite record. Just as soon as I think normalcy is settling in and I am truly enjoying things , something happens to remind me that things are indeed different now. I miss daily phone call updates from her. I miss the weekly packages of toys and clothes. I started wrapping presents today and was reminded I wouldn't be recieving any of her goofy novelty gifts or even see her handwriting on gift tags. I'm trying very hard not to be negative , but I can't help but wish mom and dad were here and present to be able to enjoy Arlo as much as the rest of us. Trying to channel that frustration into something proactive and meaningful is exhausting at times. If I'm being honest, it takes a quiet yet upsetting toll, regardless of support. No one can truly fill that void of my folks not being present, not even me. <br />
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Torn and Frayed by the Stones is one of my " I can listen to this song on repeat for days and never get tired of it" songs. Lately it's been on repeat everyhwere in my life-- in my car, computer, head, etc...that and " The Obvious Child" by Paul Simon. Sometimes I measure out my life in songs, and these two seem to be hitting the mark lately. Freudian? Perhaps. Therapeutic? Of course. But overall, I am thankful for what I have now, presently. I have wonderful memories from mom, a dad who is working to get better and stronger, and an amazing son, husband, family and friends. Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-20077928501748063172011-12-01T19:13:00.000-08:002011-12-01T19:13:22.760-08:00Update.I figured the holidays would be rough this year without mom. The stress of school has kept me busy, but I still can't shake the feeling that something is missing this year. Even with my finals, term papers, Geoff's job, planning of Arlo's birthday and Christmas extravaganza and other miscellanous issues, I know inherently she isn't here, and won't be again. I hear a lot of " she's here in spirit" or " she's within you and what you do", but even as a therapist and a daughter of two therapiststs, I call bullshit on those sentiments at this time in my grieving process. I don't care about spirits and memories. I want her here, now. I wanted to see her at Thanksgiving, laughing and rolling her eyes at my neuroticism in parenting. I wanted to lay my head on her shoulder and hear her say " I love you, but stop laying on me. It's hot in here, you're 33, and too old to lay on your mama". Most importantly, I wanted her to enjoy watching her grandson as he ran around, played, threw tantrums, and just enjoyed his family and being himself. <br />
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We went ahead and went with the usual Thanksgiving traditions this year, and although there was an observable hole my heart and head, but I am glad we did. The look of delight on my son's face as he entered my Aunt's house with new Thomas the Train toys she had waiting for him was beyond amazing. My Aunt truly made Thanksgiving this year easier to digest even though mom was not present. <br />
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Unfortunately, the holidays look like they might be a bit more rough than previously expected this year. My father was placed in the ICU of the hospital this week, and is in serious but stable condition. His nurse was very kind this evening and attempted to help me talk to him over the phone. The only thing I could make out was " Laura Beth" and " I love you and your mother". I can't fathom life without both of them, but sadly it seems I must. I hope that he makes it through this hospital stay enough to be able to have a little more meaningful time with not only myself, but more importantly, with Arlo and my grandfather(his father). <br />
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I just finished up my first quarter of my MSW studies, and I'm hoping to get a 4.0, but we'll see. I truly feel like I have worked hard enough for a 4.0, but tests and finals are tricky so I'll be happy with whatever I get. I've met some awesome folks in my classes and am really thankful for their friendship and support.<br />
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I wanted to take the opportunity in this blog entry to thank my best friend, Erin, for not only being just generally awesome, but for taking care of my dad when I couldn't and being there for my family throughout everything. I love you, ED. Thanks also to all the friends and family who continue to be so supportive to Geoff and I, we greatly appreciate it. I also want to thank my mother and father-in-law for being so wonderful in helping to raise Arlo. We are so lucky to have such an awesome support group. <br />
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Arlo turns 2 a week from tomorrow... my, how time flies! He's still obsessed with Thomas the Train and loooooves singing his ABC's song. Everyday he does something absolutely amazing, and I am so lucky to have him as my son. Being a mom has really helped me define who I am as a person, and I have my son to thank for that. His sense of humor and general love of others is astounding. <br />
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I hope to update more as the holiday season rolls along. Thanks again for all the support.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-10863360381798856392011-08-03T18:04:00.000-07:002011-08-03T18:04:05.556-07:00DifferentSo I guess I'm no longer a full-fledged "stay at home mom" now that I'm back in academia. I've only taken a couple of classes this summer to ready my brain for the full-time experience to come this September, but WOW-- it really is a balancing act, especially with a 20 month old and a husband who now works 45 minutes from home. This isn't a complaint, rather just an observation and description of how my life has drastically changed within the past four months. <br />
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My first class was Statistics... and it met every single damn day for 3 weeks. I passed. Nothing really else to say other than I NEVER HAVE TO TAKE THAT CLASS AGAIN. The caps convey my feelings on this. I couldn't have done it without the help of my husband, mother-in-law, father-in-law, and my dad. Arlo decided it was time to nap in his crib right around when class started. Thank you, son. Thank you. Unfortunately, it still seems I suffer a bit from test anxiety. But the math anxiety? That's gone. Not sure why or how, but I got to the point where I pushed myself to believe that I really COULD do it, and threw out the old " I just can't compute" excuses. I think that in itself was a victory-- the biggest most important victory. Ironically enough, on the first page of the book in my psychometrics and personality traits class was a huge, glaring SCATTERPLOT with x's and y's and r= blah blah blah. But i didn't freak out, because I knew what it meant, thanks to my recent dance with stats class and new found confidence that math is NOT the root of all evil. ( it is the root of a lot of evil, but not all)<br />
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I registered for classes in the fall-- 16 credit hours, every day of the week, Friday classes are field placements which means I have to do some soul searching as to what sector I really want to work in, and fast. I'm in the mental health/direct practice/clinical track so I have an inkling of what I know I want to do and what I don't want to do. As an aside, apparently the government is offering 5000 bucks to any MSW who goes into the Child Welfare track... wish I could do that but that time has passed with me. Maybe 8 years ago, but definitely not now that I have my own kiddo. Went to the MSW Orientation and re-connected with an old friend which was really wonderful. I sat there in that tiny little classroom with those tiny little desks and thought... here I am... where I have wanted to be for 10 plus years now. I hope my mom is watching, and that she is proud. <br />
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My current class is extremely interesting but there is SO MUCH INFORMATION. Pro: the professor wrote the book that we are using for class. Con: the professor wrote the book that we are using for class. He's british (YAY, although I detect a hint of scottish in his accent as well) and very knowledgeable. My biggest difficulty is getting through all of the text. It's so dense, and I want to take it all in, but still have a life. In some ways this class is making me realize how much I love psychology and research... never thought I'd say that. <br />
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I miss my mom ferociously these days. Still angry, sad, lonely from her death. Arlo pointed to the picture of her and dad on the fridge today and said " gramanduke? hi gramanduke? It still takes a lot of effort not to totally break down when he does things like that. He has a mickey plane that she gave him for his birthday that hasn't worked in like 5 months or so-- it needed new batteries. Arlo likes to cart it around the house for some reason, and last week Geoff said " buddy, we need to get some new batteries in your mickey plane"... not 2 minutes later the thing started working again. Instances like that make me feel certain that she is present with every step we take.<br />
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It's been a tough road lately, but with the love and support from friends and family, we're going to make it. Thanks to everyone.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-44971809637202899792011-05-10T19:05:00.000-07:002011-05-10T19:05:38.226-07:00StillI have to admit, Mother's Day was so much more difficult than I thought it would be. Mom and I spent many Mother's Day celebrations apart, so it was odd to me how upset and depressed I felt when I woke up. I spent the morning watching the newest Harry Potter for the gazillionth time, and the idea that it was all really just a distraction is not at all lost on me. <br />
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The previous week I kept going to the internet to try and order flowers... only to be reminded that I didn't need to. I would see a picture of her in the house and say to myself " you've got to get a card or something" only to have that thought interrupted by the realization that a sending a card and flowers wasn't necessary anymore. <br />
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"Not necessary anymore"... this truth haunts me now. I never thought I'd be in a place where I didn't obsess about the last minute about birthdays, mother's day, christmas, etc... and yet here I am. And it's confusing. Upsetting .But really it just makes me angry. She's supposed to be here to receive all these goofy consumer driven gifts of remembrance. She's supposed to endure my procrastination and tell me she doesn't " need any of this stuff anyway." My son is supposed to be making her scribble scrabble mothers day cards and sending her video greetings/phone calls.<br />
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I recently watched a video of my son when he received his "mickey plane" from my parents for his birthday, and in the background, I heard her distinctive chuckle... that machine gun laugh of hers that could permeate a room for years. Her passing is STILL amazing to me in that I can't believe it happened. It's been almost two months, and I honestly still can't wrap my head around it. <br />
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I'm jumping around the Kubler-Ross stages like my pants are on fire. I so wish that she could have watched Arlo grow up. I have this intense need for him to have some sort of memory of her although I know that his having any true memory of her is probably stretching it. Life with Arlo is amazing-- but life without mom is pretty darn lonely and debilitating. I just hope I'm being the best mom I can be to Arlo.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-73368731359643605272011-04-19T18:42:00.000-07:002011-04-19T18:42:03.671-07:00Blowing in the WindMy mom and dad were huge Peter, Paul and Mary fans. They saw Peter, Paul and Mary live many times... and I will never forget the instance in which my mother told me she got to touch " mary's flowing skirt" as mary billowed from her limousine into the Seelbach Hotel's Lounge in Louisville where my parents took a parental vacation yearly. Mom was in awe, and if you know my mother, it is very rare that she outwardly showed genuine awe of something. Not that she didn't get excited, not that she didn't care, not that she didn't have important and wonderful things happening around her... she just wasn't one of those folks who wore their "excitement" on their sleeve. Mom would have been an amazing poker player. <br />
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She would later describe the event as "magic". She was able to see her musical heroes up close and personal, and for some reason this really affected her. Whenever she would recount the evening, her eyes became starry and she sort of gazed out into the open for a bit, later coming back to her listening audience and stating " I touched her skirt. She was in one of those revolving doors and I touched her skirt. It was white." <br />
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Now that mom is gone, I think about this every time encounter wind(and not the flatulent kind:). When the wind blows, sometimes I feel as though she is haphazardly messing with my hair like she used to do, saying things like " you really need to brush this" or " let's get you in for a haircut and highlights". She bought Geoff and I some wind chimes a couple of Christmases ago, and maybe I'm just listening now, but it seems like they make a lot more noise now that she has passed away. Sometimes I imagine that she is patting me on the shoulder, telling me that everything is going to be okay, all the while staring up into the stars... as she was known to do on a consistent basis with me.<br />
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I think I am in the phase of "looking" for things, a sign, etc... and a friend mentioned to me that I may not ever see or find a true, solid sign that my mom is, indeed, watching over me. What she did offer was that no matter what, the love that mom had for me is the biggest sign that she is still with all of us, and the love that I continue to give to my friends, family, and most importantly Arlo, is the biggest truth that she is indeed still here and present in all of our hearts for as long as we want her to be. <br />
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I am still in awe of my mother's being, her presence, her love... I hope to be as amazing a person and mother as she was to me.<br />
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Thanks, mom.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-39821590213458458622011-04-12T19:43:00.000-07:002011-04-12T19:43:14.851-07:00Open LetterMom,<br />
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I have severe writer's block. I know this is surprising as I have always appeared to have something to write about. But since you've passed away, I have nothing witty, philosophical or intelligent to proclaim other than the old standby of " I miss you." I am very embarrassed with my current writing skills, but I know I need to emote in this manner it as it is an important way of foraging through the grief spiral. <br />
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Nothing will ever be the same. I still can't believe that you are truly gone, " gone" being the word of discussion here. It depends on what and who you believe in, and to be quite honest, right now I am struggling with it all. " Gone" is so final, but aren't we dealing with finalities daily anyway? I think so. Maybe. I suppose my indecision with this makes me the perfect philosophy major. In the end ,though, in MY mind, it's what we believe to be true and comforting that matters that is important. Who cares what the rest of society believes?<br />
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I continue to project this image of you hanging out with your father(my grandfather), Doris(my father's mother), and your friend Susan who passed away from cancer several years ago, at some hippie bar , laughing and smiling and occasionally checking in on the rest of us down here on earth. My Harry Potter imagination yields you a special wand to wave when one of us finds ourselves in some sort of conundrum. This image of mine does not paint a picture of "gone" , but rather " delayed" for the moment.<br />
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Whatever you are, or wherever you are, I miss you. I think about you all day, all night. When I do sleep, I keep my husband up with my nightmares( which I can't remember). When I am awake, everything I think and do requires a memory that you have provided for me. <br />
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I pick up the phone with the intent to tell you something, whether it is that I won the lottery or that Arlo did something ridiculous that I wanted to share. I loved sharing Arlo stories with you because you would laugh that guttural laugh that was your own... daddy described it once as a "machine gun" laugh...and now it will never be heard again, except in dreams. I want to tell you my day to day boring crap. I want to tell you that I was accepted into graduate school. I want to tell you, again and again, how much I love you and miss you....<br />
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But I can't.Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-23193748802788685902011-03-16T17:27:00.000-07:002011-03-16T17:27:28.740-07:00ReflectionsThis post has little to do with Arlo, i'm afraid. Don't worry; he's fine, in the awesome care of my husband and my in-laws... I miss him terribly. Currently I am in Bowling Green taking care of my father. My mom is in the ICU wing of the hospital and I am extremely overwhelmed. I'm headed back tomorrow to be "mommy" again although I think I have been mommy all along while I have been here in BG.<br />
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My mom is sick. I'm not sure if she'll ever fully recover from whatever it is that is going on. Doctor says it's septic shock>inflamed liver>crappy blood pressure> strange blood loss with an encore of *" we don't really know what the hell is going on". I keep going to my phone. I keep going to it because I want to call her. I want to call and ask her for help. And then the realization comes that I can't. The ONE person I need right now is the one person who can't help me. <br />
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I love her beyond words, beyond this blog, beyond anything. I find it hard to really talk about what's going on which is odd since I am always an advocate for talking about anything that is bothersome. I've never felt so completely helpless. So I beg of you, people who read this, to do what you can to send happy thoughts, prayers, etc this way. Not just for my mom but for my entire family. Dad is tripping along but he needs major support, encouragement and love. I do feel some guilt that I can't be here 24/7 for him but that's my own doing, he doesn't give me any grief. And at the same time I feel super guilty that I am not at home with my OWN family. I guess the correct term for that would be " pulled". But nobody is pulling me but myself. <br />
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I'm doing what I can-- cleaning, being secretary to all the phone calls and inquiries... but really my biggest focus is mom. This house is so empty without her. <br />
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Thanks for reading my vent.:)Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-84405738121805301532011-02-28T16:18:00.000-08:002011-02-28T16:18:16.858-08:00Up and Runnin'Seems I've lazed out with writing over the past few months, but generally everything has been somewhat the same( as " the same" as it can be with a kid). Now enter the last few weeks: MAJOR GAME CHANGE! One of those " well shit, I thought things were kind of settling down for a bit but NOPE, YOU COULDN'T BE MORE WRONG" game changers. Arlo began walking pretty fiercely a couple of weeks ago and my attention span/energy level really need to catch up. We were at a birthday party the other day and I thought he was right next to me... turns out he was, but had quickly sauntered off to another child's birthday cake with plans to consume the sugary contents that did not belong to him( hands outstretched, asking the child's mother " Cake?" very pitifully even though I had been trying to feed him his own piece of cake for about 15 minutes but with no luck). He was so obsessed with walking around observing everyone else and their "cake" that I had to take him in another room away from all the others to get him to eat. He reminded me of a balding restaurant manager in some dark Italian joint in jersey careening around his family owned restaurant, schmoozing with the patrons. <br />
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It couldn't be more bittersweet. One the one hand, thank goodness he is fully mobile. On the other, holy crap, he is fully mobile. He's not a baby anymore...and I can't really pinpoint why that makes me sad. I wasn't very adaptive to the newborn thing. I had a lot of trouble with it. I'm having so much fun now... but for some reason, every now and again, I get a little weepy when I see him chasing sadie around the living room. He's such a joy and that smile of his is absolutely amazing... I can't wait to see his next trick.:)Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4113407687050977581.post-90909836383290285932011-01-24T07:34:00.000-08:002011-01-24T07:34:37.390-08:00A Year in the LifeWell folks, we've made to that high water mark... one year. 13 months now, to be exact. I can't begin to express how much easier and gratifying mommyhood has become, so I won't. Just know that it's worlds away from what it was a year ago... still have our ups and downs, major nap strikes, the makings of an interesting little temper... but I'm not sitting on the couch at 3AM sobbing every other night. That alone makes it better.:)<br />
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I feel years older than I did this time last year. I have learned so much, and I hope Arlo has too. The heartbreak of the miscarriage I had at the end of the year brought a lot of things into perspective for me, one being that I have an amazing little boy and family, and that I am truly lucky. I also re-vamped my passion for things I had set aside for a bit-- music, movies, books, writing... and this makes me feel like "myself" again, whatever that means.<br />
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Arlo is not walking yet but he will be soon. He's jabbering a bit, usually experimenting with " dada", the occasional " ma", and lots of " car" and " gobble". Not sure where the "gobble" came from but it's funny nonetheless. He is still obsessed with baby einsten videos and watches them with the intensity of a crack addict in Reno. I continue to be confounded by his infatuation, but when he refuses to nap they come in very handy so I will remain blissfully befuddled.<br />
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I started and ended a job, all within a month. The money was almost non-existent and attempting to manage and organize the lives of 5 other kids not including my own began to take a toll on me. So I'm a full-timer once again, but this go round is proving to be less "frazzled". <br />
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So that's somewhat of an update I suppose. My 33rd birthday was last week, and my one resolve was to be more creative. Hold me to it!!Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15482790689935970878noreply@blogger.com0