tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22624791006169426712024-03-05T21:31:54.522-10:00Off the Beaton PathThe grand adventures of the traveling Beatons.Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.comBlogger219125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-6867343330902760622019-10-29T00:38:00.001-10:002019-10-29T00:38:32.218-10:00Around Here | May 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Around here | We're gearing up for a cross-country drive: planning itineraries, pinning activities, thinking about snacks and stops and keeping everyone in good spirits for the long haul. </div>
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Around here | We're getting ready to transition Aidan to a legit loft bed. He's been using the Ikea Kura bed since he was 2.5. We've modified it multiple times, and it has served him well these past 6 years but it is time to move him to some big kid furniture. </div>
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Around here | Aidan has finally succumbed to a video game. He asks for time daily to check on his animals and do...whatever it is he does on the Jurassic World game. Fortunately, it is still contained to the iPad. I have mixed feelings about it but am willing to observe for the time being. </div>
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Around here | When Daddy's gone and the meltdowns are hitting fast and heavy I pile everyone in the van and drive. If the drive happens to end with milkshakes at a playground, so much the better. </div>
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Around here | Naps are largely a thing of the past. It's not that the toddlers don't need one, but Baxter has trouble turning his body off long enough to take one, and, if he naps, he's awake until 9 PM or later at night. Oliver can fall asleep basically anywhere if he's got his monkey and he'll still go to bed at a reasonable hour but having them on 2 different schedules is a deal-breaker for me--so no more naps after 11 AM. If Oliver falls asleep mid-afternoon I let him nap for 15-20 minutes to take the edge off. Without a nap, both boys are done for the day by 6:30 PM. They sleep about 12 hours at night so it works out okay. This new schedule is draining for me though. They are too young for a meaningful quiet time and the TV doesn't hold Baxter's attention long enough for me to get any non-household tasks done. Aidan consumes the time in the evening after the toddlers are asleep so by the time 9 PM rolls around I'm completely spent and I haven't accomplished anything on my personal list. It's a hard cycle right now. I know it is short-lived (it will get better once we are through the training period and the boys are a little older) but it is tough right now. </div>
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Around here | Reagan had his first TDY since the babies were itty-bitty. It was a bit of a trial run for all of us as he'll be traveling a lot more with his next job. My takeaway is that 1) we have to switch to an unlimited data plan, and 2) as long as he is home for the weekends we'll be fine. The weekend days are when the bottled up crazy comes out. If he can't make it home for the weekends I'm just going to feed my children a steady diet of milkshakes and screen time while I rock myself in the corner. </div>
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Around here | <span style="font-style: italic;">Mine! My turn! AhVER!!</span> (Which could be either Baxter or Oliver--for whatever reason they both say Ahver when referring to the other in 3rd person.) <span style="font-style: italic;">NOOOO! Give.it.back!</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Knock.it.off!</span> are all heard a lot these days. One shares well, the other not at all. Both bite and hit. I spend a good part of my day putting words to frustrations and modeling how to work out these things with each other. </div>
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Around here | dumping is the name of the game. When the boys sit down to play they empty out 2-3 baskets of stuff and then mix it all together. It drives me batty but when I clean up one of the activities to make space on the floor they huff at me (Oliver, in particular) and then pointedly walk over and dump the newly tided basket out again. It's definitely expanded play and developmentally on target but I'm excited for our next house where this kind of play can happen in an out of the way corner and not in the middle of our living room. </div>
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Around here | even with the struggles that come with twin toddlers I'm feeling very thankful to be out of the baby stage. That first year was a challenging time for our family and the biggest crisis of our marriage. Last week I was sitting at Chick Fil A while all my kids played on the playground when a family came in with 2 young kids and 6-month old twins. There was no part of me that missed that stage. I had overwhelming sympathy for the mom and gratitude to no longer be in her shoes. Bring on independent little people. I'll take 'em!</div>
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Around here | Ice cream is pretty much the answer to any family squabble or frayed nerves. It just seems to hit everyone's reset button. </div>
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Around here | The temperature is rising which means our outdoor play involves a lot of water. Sprinklers under the trampoline is a guaranteed hit. So is adding a slide to the kiddy pool. </div>
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Around here | Oliver is FAST on his Strider bike. Fast enough that I can take a real bike ride with him and enjoy myself. It's impressive. </div>
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Around here | all our kids bring us so much joy. There's a lot of maneuvering and stretching and figuring out their places in the world. They definitely try our patience on a regular basis, but they are such cool little people. We feel lucky to have them in our lives. </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i><div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-64753634390516981472019-03-27T11:10:00.000-10:002019-03-27T11:10:42.434-10:00Currently | Oliver, Feb. 2019<div style="-en-clipboard: true;">
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<span style="-webkit-line-break: after-white-space; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Watching</span> "Teh-rrucks" More specifically, he wakes up and immediately moves into his standard appeal for the day: "Tehrrucks. Watch. Mote." Translated that would be: "Mama, I know what that thing is for. Use the remote to turn on a truck show for me. I need to get my fix of 'dirt tehrrucks, woo-woos, and big tehrrucks', STAT." He makes his request with wide eyes and a serious expression (imploring, really) while his curls bounce around his face as he nods his head enthusiastically, attempting to gain my acquiescence through some kind of innate sales pitch strategy. Others would be doomed. As his mom, my defenses are a little stronger, although not impenetrable. Usually, truck watching happens after a nap or during meals (if it's been a day filled with noise). The rest of the time I redirect his requests toward playing with his many trucks or reading about them. I've got to hand it to the kid, though: he knows what he wants and he is persistent in trying to get it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Reading</span> Everything he can get his hands on. He is a lover of books. I love watching him look through Aidan's collection of reference books. Oliver is fascinated by all the pictures. Usually, he does great with them but if he is tired or bored he'll start tearing pages and then the fun is done. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Loving</span> Trucks: construction ones (backhoe loaders are a perennial favorite), fire trucks (woo-woos), and garbage trucks. Daddy's new truck is a fairly big hit as well.</div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Wanting</span> More "tehrrucks." Mainly shows, but if we can find real-life action he is down for that too. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Eating</span> A lot. The kid can put away a serious amount of food. He can easily put eat 2-3 eggs in the morning or 2-3 bowls of pasta during a later meal. He doesn't snack much but come meal time he is all in.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>Cheese, eggs, and noodles (anything but actual noodles) are current faves. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Playing</span> In the dirt. He loves to dig, use his trucks, transfer piles, sweep, make mud, whatever. He's super happy in the dirt pile. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Singing</span> not much yet. he sings parts of the ABC song for us occasionally. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Listening</span> to what you say and then acknowledging it...or not.</div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Asking</span> to watch trucks. The kid would happily sit in front of a TV or iPad for 4-6 hours every day just watching truck videos.</div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Negotiating</span> how to handle letting Baxter get recognition for his accomplishments without being jealous or upset. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Wearing</span> clips or rubber bands to keep his hair out of his face. It's getting so long but his curls are amazing and we just can't bring ourselves to cut it. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Looking</span> for messes to clean up. He is a good little helper, inside and out. He loves to sweep, vacuum, rake, dust, do laundry, wash windows, do dishes...you name a household chore and he's probably all in. Throwing the dryer balls back into the dryer is a particular favorite. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Creating</span> train track paths. He can put a fair number together to run his trains along. He is drawn to a lot of activities that have a puzzle aspect. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Saying</span> less, at the moment. Baxter is in the middle of a language explosion but Oliver, who has been making sounds for what feels like non-stop since he figured out how to do it as a wee babe seems to be taking a bit of a break. He's absorbing the world, listening to books being read, examining pictures and tactile objects, but I think a lot of the language work is happening internally right now. Common things he is saying (besides "tehrrucks"): Up! (pick me up), Bike! or Walk! (I want to go for a walk or bike ride.), Monkies (refers to both his monkey pacifier and his blanket), Ah-ver (Baxter), Ain (Aidan), NOOO/nope/no, mm-hmm/uh-huh (positive agreements with whatever you just said, usually murmured while nodding his head in the affirmative.), MINE!, Turn! (give me a turn/my turn), muss (mess), </div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-38799017438484424832018-09-12T09:04:00.001-10:002018-09-12T09:20:55.499-10:00 Project Life | June 2018<i>Hello, family! I'm here. I'm writing, I just haven't been sharing. Let's start again here and see where this goes. Love you!</i><br />
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Project Life | June 2018</h4>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Baxter gives real kisses. Love how he says <i>MUAH</i> as he’s giving them. Oliver is starting to give kisses too. He is still in the open mouth phase though.</li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Both boys wave at everything that moves on our street. Oliver holds his arm straight out and just rotates his wrist/hand. Baxter has a more typical wave with hand, wrist, and arm action. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Babies are picking up signs and words at rapid speeds. We are on the brink of an explosion into talking. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">We’re experiencing more 1 nap days. I like that the corresponding earlier bedtime allows for more 1:1 time with Aidan, but there are definitely more whiny moments in the late afternoon. Hoping things level out once we get the nap closer to noon. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Aidan is such a cool kid! We continue to be amazed at his maturity, responsibility, awareness, intelligence, and love of family. He has some less-than-stellar moments from time to time, but, on the whole, he is a delight to have around. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">My parents here for a visit. It’s always nice when they come, but it also seems to correlate to B & O get sick (I think this is actually the universe helping me out because two sick babies with only one mama does not make for good odds.) <span style="font-family: "segoe ui emoji" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";">🙄</span> This visit it was herpangina, a cousin to hand, foot, and mouth disease. Not fun. Blisters in their mouth and on their hands, arms, legs, and feet (especially little Oliver!) meant no one was comfortable. I’m glad my parents got at least a few days with them as their regular selves. They are such awesome little people. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Abnormal grocery purchases this month: tapioca pudding, hostess cupcakes (we freeze them, of course), Top Ramen, and jello cups.<o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Baxter runs to the door, or outside if he can when he hears <i>Retreat</i> at 5 pm. He knows to stop and put his hand over his heart. I love how he peeks up at me throughout, apparently checking to be sure he is doing it correctly, making sure I notice him doing it, and mostly just delighted with himself that he is doing what the big kids do. I love it!<o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Aidan has been drawing a lot of dragons lately. He's using a couple reference books to practice but his favorite is <i>Drawing Dragons</i> by Sandra Staple. His skills are really improving, especially in texture and shading. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Some high drama mid-month. Trying to navigate a sensitive 7-year-old's anxieties and emotions is not for sissies. I keep trying to find the best way to connect with him; to help him help himself. I was near tears the other day because the tension was so high in our house. It took him 5-6 hours to finally calm down and remain that way. It's days like these when I feel like a failure as a mom. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Started watching <i>Young Sheldon</i> at the suggestion of my mom and dad. Yes! So yes! That kid is Aidan taken to the extreme, his mom is my new hero, and the rest of the family is just funny. I love the comedic spin it gives to my day-to-day life. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Took a several week break from memory keeping/photography. It interrupted my 100 days project, which I thought I'd be more upset about, but I needed a change of pace and I feel really good about all the things I did accomplish before I stopped. It’s mid-month now and I'm easing back in. I do love playing with pictures and words. I love capturing memories. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Yet another difference between Aidan and I: I read <i>Harry Potter</i> and thought what a great series. He read <i>Harry Potter</i> and has now researched every owl the Smithsonian has cataloged and is creating a complex communication system based on owl size and location.<o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">I want to remember feet stomping rapidly as a show of excitement or impatience; squishy cheeks, dimpled elbows, wrists, and knees; little hands reaching for mine trustingly; the love of and for a daddy; mischievous giggles; “I can do it” grunts; the soft slap of tiny bare feet against the tile as they search, run, and play; I want to remember the sweet sounds of them playing together, and their satisfaction in being alone. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Oliver's vocabulary is expanding by the day. <i>Ball </i>and <i>bottle</i> sound the same "beh ba" but contextually it is clear what he is referring to. He can say <i>thank you, done, yes, </i>and<i> please--</i> when he feels like it. So many sounds come out of his mouth, it is only a matter of time (I'm guessing weeks) before his brain and his mouth fully sync up. It's going to be awesome and annoying. Once he starts talking, the words are likely to flow freely and endlessly. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Baxter's agility continues to amaze me. He is so sure-footed, so confident. Every day he climbs higher and higher. I know there will be injuries in his future--I hope nothing serious--and I try to monitor and manage boundaries, but mostly I'm in awe of his skill.<o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">The little boys love the shopping cart MeiMei and Boppa got them. Depending on who's driving it could be demolition derby (Baxter) or a stroll around the store (Oliver). They are currently working on getting themselves out of tricky situations: dead end, door jam, cart tipped, etc. They are each good little problem-solvers in their own way. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">I attempted to bake brownies with Oliver and Baxter today: Open a bag, dump in the dry ingredients, add water, oil, and an egg, stir, then pour in a pan and bake. Simple, right? No. I wasn't fast enough with the wet ingredients so powdered stuff was flung everywhere. Once we got to the stirring part, they both wanted to stir but having that many (3) spatulas in the bowl meant everyone got tangled up. I took mine out but then they mike dropped theirs and fought over mine. More mess. Fingers in the batter, fists in the batter. Angry cries when I took the bowl away completely. I promptly texted Gillian and asked her how she managed it. She didn't (phew!). I don't see a lot of twin cooking happening in the near future. Cleaning, on the other hand, yes. We've got a real winner there. <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Baxter and Oliver love to clean. Brooms, mops, dusters, vacuums. They love them all and like to use them for their intended purposes. I just need to channel this energy to have it work in my favor. I'm not brave enough to try dishwashing yet, but we'll get there (just as soon as Baxter stops drinking from every water source he comes across.) <o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Reagan's office inspection is done and it went much better than expected. It is a huge weight off his shoulders to have this finished and successful. Hopefully, the long hours will end (it has been 3+ months of 14-16 hours days, plus weekends) and we can resume our regular family life. I'm certainly looking forward to seeing him more often during the daylight hours. The kids are ecstatic to have him around again too. </li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">The new gate is open. I use a lot of brain power trying to remember to leave and return to base. #newroutine #iwasfinewiththeoldone<o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">#gamechanger You can roast frozen veggies! Super simple and just as tasty.<o:p></o:p></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;">Every time I take the twins out in public it feels like we are doing a bit of community service. They bring such joy to people, especially older shoppers. I encourage all of my little people to be responsive, but even when they are not, smiles follow in their wake.<o:p></o:p></li>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-7617814552422815302016-12-11T17:08:00.000-10:002016-12-11T17:08:57.735-10:00Aidan | And then he was 6<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Montessori schools have a unique way of honoring birthdays: a child, holding a globe, walks around the sun (a lit candle) for each year he or she has been alive, thus replicating in the classroom what has happened in real life. As the child completes each loop there is generally a picture of him or her at that age presented for the class to look at. Montessori Academy, Aidan's current school, takes the celebration a step farther than previous schools we've participated in by also asking the parents to provide a brief written synopsis of each year's highlights. Despite all my memory keeping over the years, this particular assignment was a real challenge for me. It turns out Aidan has led a very full life for one so young, making it difficult to consolidate all his many experiences into a few sentences per year. I've given it my best shot, though. Below are the results of my effort. Enjoy the trip down memory lane. I certainly did. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At 11:55 AM on Wednesday,
December 8, 2010, on the island of Okinawa, in the country of Japan, on the
continent of Asia, Aidan John Beaton was born. His dad was the first
to see him and told Aidan's mom: "It's a boy! We have a beautiful baby
boy!" Aidan's MeiMei anxiously awaited the family's arrival back
in the delivery room. Aidan was the first grandbaby for 4 delighted
grandparents and the 5th for two other grandparents. At 4 months, Aidan took
his first plane trip across the Pacific Ocean to visit the rest of his excited
family, followed by his first train ride, and several more plane flights. Aidan
liked baths, being cuddled, and chewing on spatulas. He did not like going down
the slide. He took his first steps while on vacation in Hawaii.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And then he was 1.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aidan went from walking to running
very quickly. He loved to be tossed high up in the air and twirled around and
around. Now he thought going down the slide was fun. He traveled to Guam and
Hong Kong for family adventures. At 1.5, Aidan moved from Japan to Virginia,
making his third trip across the Pacific Ocean. He loved watching trains rumble
down the tracks and requested to ride the city bus as often as possible. He
liked it when other people built tall towers that he could then knock over.
"Again! Again!" was a favorite phrase. Aidan started in the Butterfly
Classroom at the Montessori School of Charlottesville. He loved playing in the
sandbox during recess and at home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And then he was 2.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aidan loved attending classes for
music and movement, as well as art. He especially liked projects that involved
paint. Owls and I's were favorite things to draw. He also loved going to the
pool with his parents. Dinosaurs became Aidan's favorite topic to read and talk
about. At 2.5, Aidan moved from Virginia to Hawaii, where he entered his first
year of Primary at the Montessori Center of Pearl Harbor. He made his first
real friend during that time (Charlotte) and frequently requested playdates with her. The warm weather allowed Aidan to
practice riding on his balance bike and spend lots more time at the pool and
beach. During the year Aidan's hair changed from blonde to
brown. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And then he was 3.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A great helper to his mom and dad,
Aidan also loved to cuddle up for snuggles and reading. He enjoyed exploring
new places and investigating interesting objects. Swimming and playing with
friends were two of his favorite things to do. After a trip to the Big Island
in Hawaii, Aidan's love of volcanoes flourished. He still loved to play in the
sand, building volcanoes and digging lakes for hours at a time. That summer, he
changed schools and was now part of a Montessori co-op. He had his first
backyard camp-out with his dad. Toward the end of the year, he decided
snorkeling was pretty fun after all, especially after watching sea turtles swim
through the water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And then he was 4.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Just after Aidan turned 4, his dad
deployed for 4 months. This gave Aidan lots of Mama-time and oodles of
opportunity to play with his most favorite friends. Dinosaurs were still his
favorite topic of study, discussion, and play
although crocodilians became a close second. Once his dad came home,
he and Aidan spent time together playing the ukelele, going hiking,
practicing riding a two-wheeled bike, testing out the slides at Wet n' Wild,
and cuddling up on the couch to watch <i>Dinosaur Train</i>. In June, Aidan
started attending a STEM preschool camp at The Children's
Discovery Center. He loved telling people about all the interesting facts he
learned throughout the day. His favorite month at school was November, when the
class spent the entire month learning about dinosaurs. Aidan helped the
teachers whenever they needed help with pronunciation or
random dino facts. After lots of practice, Aidan mastered riding a
bike without training wheels. He could really fly down the road!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And then he was 5.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Five was a big year for Aidan. He
outgrew his dairy allergy, learned to read, learned to ice skate, jumped off
diving boards, went down the big slides at Wet n' Wild, decided pepperoni pizza
was delicious, took a ride in a submarine 102 feet below sea level, climbed to
the top of Koko Head Crater all by himself, figured out how to climb
trees on his own, and finally got his long-requested 6-foot long stuffed snake
friend, Anacondy Sparkle Crocs were his favorite shoes and
he was delighted to discover he could now run in flip-flops without a
back-strap. He got a bigger bike which allowed him to race way ahead of his
parents during bike rides, practiced holding his breath underwater until he
could do it for 27 seconds, and played as much as he could with his best
friends, Lela and Abby, before moving again, this time from Hawaii to Alabama.
He saw his first snake in the wild, rode the metro train from CT to NY where he
saw oodles of dinosaur fossils at the Museum of Natural History, and sped along
a lake on a jet ski. In August, he started his final year of Primary at
Montessori Academy. He made new friends, found out he was going to be a big
brother, practiced his writing, learned how to do multiplication, lost his first tooth, and became strong enough to make it all the way across
the monkey bars along the side and middle! Dragons and trains became his new
favorite interests. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And then he was 6.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i>Happy birthday, sweet boy! So looking forward to living this year's stories with you. We can't wait to see what you conquer next. </i></span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-31921009260745515632016-11-19T10:24:00.001-10:002016-11-19T10:24:29.060-10:00Currently | Things Causing Aidan Distress<div>
<span>Problems. We've all got them. While we struggle to find order in a world that's gone a little topsy-turvy, sharing what is currently distressing my favorite little boy seems like a good way to both revive this long-neglected blog and bring a little humor to your day. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span>First-world, five-year-old problems--you know you want them too. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span>Things currently causing Aidan distress:</span></div>
<ul>
<li><span>Not enough play time after school</span></li>
<li><span>Not enough cuddle time with Mama</span></li>
<li><span>Not enough wrestling time with Dada</span></li>
<li><span>Gymnastics class is too "worky-outy".</span></li>
<li><span>"The pillowcase on my comforter makes me too hot."</span></li>
<li><span>Having to split apart his aebleskivers to add a heaping gob of jam instead of having the jam pre-cooked into them.</span></li>
<li><span>Eating egg yolk now that we've pulled the blinders off and told him he's been eating it, and loving it, all along. Previously we referred to any yellow egg as naturally-colored (instead of admitting to it having yolk).</span></li>
<li><span>New school playground rule: only one person on the monkey bars at a time. "But Mama! Now I have to <i>wait</i>!"</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
and my personal favorite,</div>
<ul>
<li><span>"Mama, the holiday performance is only a couple weeks away and the kids in my class <i>still</i> can't sing the 'pa-rum-pum-pum-pums' properly. I've tried to teach them but they keep saying 'pa rum <i>bum bum bum' </i>!" (We take the <i>Little Drummer Boy</i> song seriously around here.)</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
Enjoy your weekend!</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-8911690031135204962016-04-21T11:32:00.001-10:002016-04-21T11:32:13.783-10:001 Second EverydayIt is no secret that I love memory keeping. Photos and words are two of my favorite things. While I can't seem to make a regular habit of getting the two together on this blog, there is a lot of documenting happening behind the scenes.<br />
<br />
A couple months ago, while listening to <a href="http://www.elisejoy.com/podcast/shownotes83" target="_blank">this episode of the Elise Gets Crafty podcast</a>, I was introduced to a new way to capture our days: video! Specifically, recording one second everyday. The <a href="http://www.1secondeveryday.com/" target="_blank">1 Second Everyday app</a> then compiles all my second-long clips into a video for my viewing pleasure.<br />
<br />
It was a slow start but I'm in the groove now and LOVING it! When I forget to take a video, I can use a picture instead. Such a fun snapshot of our lives these days.<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-28355819868004550082016-03-18T11:27:00.000-10:002016-03-18T11:27:31.809-10:00Taking One for the Team<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's a pretty awesome life. So thankful we get to live it.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-29382860344773500562016-02-09T09:47:00.002-10:002016-02-09T09:47:19.277-10:00Aidan Says | Future Job<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCRkG4jJq_lHkTzZCGHwRJ_rG8yMsRoJJMxsAb0hJpb_TDO5jJHDAn9ebN0fEiijA87krd7ZbHUOMrNC-QadKtkXUjfx9SRNBFY4vyDH2rPwxxuVIbA9DiSwkvzrFaZOSKw2ieNLZ1jAJ/s1600/IMG_3086.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCRkG4jJq_lHkTzZCGHwRJ_rG8yMsRoJJMxsAb0hJpb_TDO5jJHDAn9ebN0fEiijA87krd7ZbHUOMrNC-QadKtkXUjfx9SRNBFY4vyDH2rPwxxuVIbA9DiSwkvzrFaZOSKw2ieNLZ1jAJ/s640/IMG_3086.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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February 9, 2016<br />
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From the backseat of the car on the way to STEM class:<br />
<br />
*deep sigh*<br />
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In a very serious and slightly concerned tone: <i>"I don't know what I want to be when I grow up anymore. I was wanting to be a T-Rex...or a crocodile. I was also thinking about being a giganotosaurus. I just don't know what I want to do for work. Maybe I'll grow up to have wings and stuff. Then I could be a quetzalcoatlus."</i><br />
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He gazes out the window for a minute in quiet contemplation. Then he hops out of the car and heads off to play.<br />
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I love that kid!<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-3221325501599531912016-02-06T16:39:00.001-10:002016-02-06T16:39:37.002-10:00Right Now | Aidan (January 2016)<div>
<span><i><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dyIs2JWaJ3tgh3OzqxY229xc2N_xhh4h_X-gZJxSbaVv8uL6CAxVSoH6RlBYDlg7-fFWJb782LPioXhy7cYFjuttCO9HiVvco-3YAVx8Eabuyq2jH6wMZ9vwLiljDE5BOhLAbT9Vyaop/s1600/IMG_4849.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dyIs2JWaJ3tgh3OzqxY229xc2N_xhh4h_X-gZJxSbaVv8uL6CAxVSoH6RlBYDlg7-fFWJb782LPioXhy7cYFjuttCO9HiVvco-3YAVx8Eabuyq2jH6wMZ9vwLiljDE5BOhLAbT9Vyaop/s640/IMG_4849.jpg" width="640" /></a></b></i></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Watching</b> Dino Dan</i> (on his very own Kindle!), Nat Geo Wild shows about snakes, crocodilians, and whales; YouTube videos of the same</span></div>
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<span><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Reading</b></i> Beverly Cleary's <i>Ramona</i> series (completed or finishing: <i>Beezus and Ramona, Ramona the Pest, Ramona the Brave</i>) at night with Reagan, lots of library books about snakes and crocodilians with me</span></div>
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<span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2cZdh9sCX7SQLyBOeEvJk6KVV8HFwQIRMVAOdB_Rg3P2JLbF-oHFOAMIQs0_hu9Hs0gvFCwg0Mul-FXH7wktmeE7bmlHA1opSTV2kz1nmleVf-BBuvOYGte-uCDFVhMfqGBBvhPlAye9e/s1600/IMG_4874.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2cZdh9sCX7SQLyBOeEvJk6KVV8HFwQIRMVAOdB_Rg3P2JLbF-oHFOAMIQs0_hu9Hs0gvFCwg0Mul-FXH7wktmeE7bmlHA1opSTV2kz1nmleVf-BBuvOYGte-uCDFVhMfqGBBvhPlAye9e/s640/IMG_4874.jpg" width="426" /></a></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Loving</b></i> his bike. Each week brings a new level of riding confidence. He keeps testing his limits and finding joy in the process. </span></div>
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<span><strong><em>Wanting</em></strong> "A rattlesnake, a big one. No, an 18-ft long giant snake, a stuffed animal. The green one we saw on Amazon that weighs 16 pounds." (Note to any grandparents reading: This is a pipe dream not a suggestion, just in case you were getting any ideas.) </span></div>
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<span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHJ0As4mywiQlHZummNDnzslBM63OXRbXOy-PeRF8se1SkwBWaGe7ZTppN5oAsG6eTutwN4UfbIxLUpwFwHtB9R6qPyrFKBxi-wXIOZ8RSuXQcvB9tC4ATgb8JFFMCL1PSa03H_xN1HzK/s1600/IMG_4813.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHJ0As4mywiQlHZummNDnzslBM63OXRbXOy-PeRF8se1SkwBWaGe7ZTppN5oAsG6eTutwN4UfbIxLUpwFwHtB9R6qPyrFKBxi-wXIOZ8RSuXQcvB9tC4ATgb8JFFMCL1PSa03H_xN1HzK/s640/IMG_4813.jpg" width="426" /></a></span></div>
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<span><b><i>Eating</i></b> Dairy!!! He outgrew his allergy and was officially released from all dairy restrictions on January 25, 2016. </span></div>
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<span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKv5fdvbsnql7K4YgNCmUU-7iRdFcLe5e4zNcKGwahyphenhyphenV3245j_j-mn_oUXjCiQ2NPJusa57e08PUitpwUS_mfTBX7-hxVhYp-gunpAuxZ54Tg7CFKquVjom1v99tvfxFaJ97Q51-bpBEW/s1600/IMG_4879.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKv5fdvbsnql7K4YgNCmUU-7iRdFcLe5e4zNcKGwahyphenhyphenV3245j_j-mn_oUXjCiQ2NPJusa57e08PUitpwUS_mfTBX7-hxVhYp-gunpAuxZ54Tg7CFKquVjom1v99tvfxFaJ97Q51-bpBEW/s640/IMG_4879.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span><strong><em>Playing</em></strong> on his own/with us. He has declined many offers to play lately, even with Lela, in favor of continuing a solo project or hanging out with us</span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Singing "</b></i>Do-Re-Mi" from <i>The Sound of Music</i>. He's about 8 words away from having the whole thing memorized. He loves it and it ties in well with the music lessons he is getting at co-op. Reagan asked Aidan if he wanted to take guitar lessons together when we get to Alabama. Aidan sounded excited by the idea. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Listening</b></i> tracks 7, 8, 9, 10, 16, and 25 on <i>The Sound of Music</i> soundtrack. He made a special point to tell me that he chose extra songs so that when I got tired of listening to 7 (My Favorite Things), 8 (Do-Re-Mi), and (9 kids singing "Sound of Music")--his favorites--I could switch to the other songs. So kind. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Asking</b></i> about animal sizes: How long do they grow? How much do they weigh? Is the male bigger than the female? (he likes it when the answer is yes). We've been encouraging him to utilize his resources to help answer the questions. Our Smithsonian reference books are getting a lot of use these days, not that they were collecting dust before. He practices sounding out an animal's name so he can find it in the index and then searchs for the information he wants within the animal's blurb. He memorizes both the metric and English system amounts for later random repeating. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Navigating</b></i> through a speech challenge. His r's still sound like w's in many words. Although it is not abnormal for his age Aidan has become more aware and self-conscious about it. He is a smart kid with a lot to say. It frustrates him when other kids struggle to understand him. Adults can usually puzzle their way through any hiccups but the kids are more blunt. An online resource suggested smiling whenever you intend to say an "r" sound because you can't make a "w" sound when smiling (who knew?). Aidan was happy to have a suggestion to work with and has been practicing intermittently. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Wearing</b></i> Underwear! He decided to reincorporate it on his own. Reagan and I are trying to be super low-key about it lest he change his mind and go back to his commando ways. This is one notable instance when I picked my battles (forcing Aidan to wear underwear when he was so adamantly opposed to it was <u>not</u> one of them) and it worked! Hooray for the occasional parenting win. </span></div>
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<span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiquW0UGs3Y521sMD3AolHMRDFgrTaIN4nrv62j2nqqyGa7s8P6Rg8h-9ukj8TFnWgZDuyCZYBGArJ2C2-CNCWd9wzlN7WPgs3UrGxN2wMnm39JP4ckLyxc9sKWDj9ENbaXFFrQRU6Zeihe/s1600/2016-01-24+11.34.35.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiquW0UGs3Y521sMD3AolHMRDFgrTaIN4nrv62j2nqqyGa7s8P6Rg8h-9ukj8TFnWgZDuyCZYBGArJ2C2-CNCWd9wzlN7WPgs3UrGxN2wMnm39JP4ckLyxc9sKWDj9ENbaXFFrQRU6Zeihe/s400/2016-01-24+11.34.35.jpg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQE7NqCG2PjG671DteFfX_yB6O2Ay9REo1anjNcnIvC91v0lmqgJRrS_VqjHv2_bxq58q93bcPT9emk5WehbNfN20a-og5OhRPzhMehwCv6HHCC3va1R_XgUpVT_uvVPZTumctjAHiOrO/s1600/2016-01-24+11.24.01.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQE7NqCG2PjG671DteFfX_yB6O2Ay9REo1anjNcnIvC91v0lmqgJRrS_VqjHv2_bxq58q93bcPT9emk5WehbNfN20a-og5OhRPzhMehwCv6HHCC3va1R_XgUpVT_uvVPZTumctjAHiOrO/s400/2016-01-24+11.24.01.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div>
<div>
<span><strong><em>Looking</em></strong> "at the alligators at the zoo and the gharials and the komodo dragon and crocodile monitor lizard at the zoo." </span></div>
<div>
<span><br /></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Creating</b></i> illustrated stories. More words are appearing alongside pictures. He is practicing in cursive too because my brainwashing is working: cursive is easier. </span></div>
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<span><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<span><i><b>Saying</b></i> "I love you" (frequently and spontaneously) and "Thank you" and "Will you please...?/May I please...?". His politeness factor has skyrocketed in the past few months. Also, "I noticed that...", "from time to time", and he tries to bargin with kisses ("If you read me this story, I'll give you 100 kisses!")</span></div>
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<span>A big puffy heart for the 70" anaconda that finally made its way into our home. </span></div>
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Aidan started ice skating lessons at the beginning of January. He rallied after a rough go the first day and has made huge progress in a few short weeks. He likes it so much he wants to continue with the next session. There is even some discussion about hockey. Fun times ahead. </div>
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<span>We've always known we had an awesome kid but his awesomeness has become easier to appreciate these past few months as he moves away from trantrums and outbursts and into self-reliance, calming breaths, and a willingness to more frequently operate in the land of reason. This is a super fun age. We LOVE it!</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-57169238310075062212015-10-22T10:53:00.000-10:002015-10-22T10:53:14.718-10:00Right Now | Aidan (October 2015)<br />
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<b><i>Watching</i></b> Nat Geo Wild- Any show involving reptiles (snakes and crocodilians), sharks, and whales will do. We've got half-a-dozen on the DVR he likes to watch on repeat. (Recent sick days allowed for more TV watching in a 72-hour period than the prior 3 months combined). <i>Cobra Mafia</i>, anyone? Just the kind of entertainment this (me) non-snake lover can't get enough of. <sigh> The things we do for our children. </sigh><br />
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<b><i>Reading</i></b> to himself! He figured out some of the basics: small words ending in at, ot, am, and a handful of sight words. He loves to find words he can read.<i> The Magic Treehouse</i> series is still favored for mid-day story time unless there is a new batch of library books in the house. Then we cycle through those.<br />
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<b><i>Loving</i></b> riding his bicycle without training wheels! They've been officially hung up (literally) and Aidan is zipping everywhere on two wheels.<br />
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<b><i>Wanting</i></b> a 72" long stuffed anaconda from the zoo's gift shop. He's saving his spending money in order to buy it.<br />
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<i><b>Eating</b></i> fewer processed grains. I've been easing him over to our new and improved whole/real foods way of eating. I'm not sure he's noticed. The kid just likes to eat.<br />
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<i><b>Playing</b></i> with the tee-pee Reagan made for him. Aidan chose the fabric and the two of them cut down the bamboo poles together after a trek to the bamboo forest. (Aidan's first illegal act. Why isn't that listed as a milestone in any of the baby books?) Reagan did the sawing, sewing, and constructing. Aidan is in charge of the playing.<br />
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<i><b>Singing</b></i> Frère Jacques. He likes it in English, French, and Spanish.<br />
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<i><b>Asking</b></i> "May I please...?" and "May you please...?" We celebrate the first one. There have been a lot of conversations about asking politely and Aidan was clearly listening. He almost always remembers to use polite verbiage these days. The second one (May you please...?) gets a nod for the attempt but has opened the door to a whole new world of English language pitfalls. Trying to explain the difference (and correctness) of <i>may I </i>and <i>will you</i> has led to a lot of blank stares pointed in my direction. Darn English language. I didn't realize how confusing it really is until Aidan came along.<br />
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<i><b>Negotiating</b></i> There is no negotiating happening right now. Reagan and I do not negotiate with pint-sized terrorists which is exactly what Aidan was turning into. This behavior sneaked up on us a bit. We've been lenient and/or flexible because we believed he didn't have the emotional/mental resources for reasoning and logic. He still may not, who knows, but he has become a master manipulator and threatens us (if you don't...then I'll...) with maddening regularity, particularly when he wants to do something and is told "no" or if he is asked/required to do something he doesn't want to do. Since neither Reagan or I have any desire to raise a whiny, lazy, self-absorbed brat we decided it was time to draw a hard line in the sand, to heck with his age. He's a smart kid. It shouldn't take him long to figure out his gig is up. (Update: It didn't take long for marked improvement to appear. Things are much more pleasant around here now.)<br />
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<i><b>Wearing</b></i> fewer dinosaur shirts. As he gets bigger they are getting harder for me to find. Most of the ones his size tend to be too graphic or they have the wrong dinosaur (he loves the carnivores). As a result, we've had to branch into other reptiles. He's taken it okay for now but I'm not sure how it will go when I take the last of the T-Rex shirts out of rotation.<br />
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<i><b>Looking</b></i> at the calendar repeatedly. December 8th can't come fast enough for him. He's tried to convince me on several occasions that he was actually born in an earlier month. No dice, kid. I have a VERY clear recollection of the birth. I'm the least likely person to forget the date. I suggested to him that, considering an international date line and 16 hour time difference are involved, I might be willing to honor his birthday on December 7th, just this once. He wasn't impressed.<br />
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<i><b>Creating</b></i> a glue resist painting using his low-temp glue gun and watercolor. "Mama, this is the first time I feel like a real artist!" I tried to reinforce the idea of everyone being an artist in their own way but he wanted none of it. "Can we be real artists, Mama? Let's be da Vinci. I'll be baby da Vinci and you be mama da Vinci." We have Jack and Annie of <i>The Magic Treehouse</i> series to thank for Aidan's interest in Leonardo da Vinci. Ditto for Mozart. <br />
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<i><b>Saying</b></i> "Mama" a lot. He manages to work it in about 5 times for every sentence/ thought that leaves his mouth. I'm going to tally them up one of these days.<br />
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A:"Mama?"<br />
S: "Yes"<br />
A: "Mama...um, Mama, can we have chicken nuggets for dinner, Mama?"<br />
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Toward the end of the day I start adding his name into the mix, just for fun.<br />
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A: "Mama?"<br />
S: "Aidan?"<br />
A: (pause, pondering) "Mama?<br />
S: " Aidan?"<br />
A: "Mama...um, Mama, why are you saying my name, Mama?"<br />
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Other fun from the past couple months:<br />
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We have pets! Three fish and three shrimp have taken up residence in a borrowed fish tank. Please welcome Pinky, Purply, Orangy (Can guess their colors? ;-)), Shrimpy, Jonah, and Bloopy. Now say goodbye to Shrimpy. Bloopy is the bully of the tank. We are pretty sure he killed Shrimpy but we can't prove it. We are waiting for the fish to gang up on him so he can get a taste of his own medicine.<br />
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Aidan mastered all the single letter sounds and moved on to phonograms. After doing an observation in the co-op's lawn area Aidan came back inside and worked on sounding out "aphid" phonetically before recording it in his language journal.<br />
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We attended the Okinawa Festival in early September. Aidan and I had the opportunity to learn some taiko drumming from these lovely ladies. I have a new appreciation for the coordination involved in making those performances come to life.<br />
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Pointy object, must touch it. We found this great cactus garden after the Okinawa Festival. Cactus is largely something Aidan has only read about, not experienced, so this was a great exploration opportunity. The garden was amazing and so unexpected considering the tropical location. <br />
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Aidan had been in his room for an especially long time during quiet time so I went up to investigate. This spontaneously falling asleep during quiet time (especially with the lights blazing bright) has happened a total of <i>never</i>. It deserved to be documented.<br />
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MeiMei and Boppa came to town. Aidan was in heaven. Two of his favorite playmates <i>and</i> "coffee" every morning. What could be better?<br />
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Part of MeiMei and Boppa's visit involved a weekend in Waikiki. So much water to play in, so few dry clothes to change into. :-)<br />
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With the teepee project finally wrapped up Reagan turned his attention to building Aidan's Halloween costume. They took their bikes out to search for cardboard on recycling day and then got down to the business of constructing after a few minutes spent researching and creating a design. Never one to pass up a learning opportunity, I introduced Aidan to the concept of diameter while they were drawing all their circles. Aidan loved it and had a great time finding objects around the house that were a specific size.<br />
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Testing the fit. <i>So</i> much more work to do.<br />
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Nothing says Fall like "picking" imported pumpkins off a field in 90 degree weather. This was our attempt to get Aidan outdoors after several days of croup nastiness. He had fun but relapsed that night. All told, he was down for the count for a week. That's <i>a lot</i> of TV watching time.<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-17927395105608897852015-09-29T10:26:00.001-10:002015-09-29T10:59:14.984-10:00Right Now | Aidan (August 2015)<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Written 8.15.2015</span></div>
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Watching </i>Us. Mimicking us. Questioning inconsistencies. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><em><b>Reading </b>The Magic Tree House</em> series. They are always his first choice during our afternoon reading time. He has several of the books in audio form as well, which he listens to on repeat. I love that he loves books about reading. He is so close to making the leap to being able to read on his own. So close. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Loving </b>his family.<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>There have been a lot of hugs and snuggles and spontaneous "I love you"s lately. He insisted on writing and mailing a note to his daddy during a recent work trip: "DADE, i LUV U. i mis u. DADE. AidAN". "Dade" is the special way Aidan spells daddy. When Reagan returned from his deployment, Aidan wrote him a welcome home sign and sounded the whole thing out on his own. That spelling is what he heard in his head and it stuck, despite knowing that it is not the normal spelling. I find it completely endearing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><strong><em>Wanting</em></strong> to take swim lessons again. He seems re-motivated to pass the swim test at the base pool. That means swimming 25 feet without stopping or touching anything and then treading water with chin and ears above the water line for 30 seconds. Yesterday was a victory. He completed the swim portion for the first time and treaded water for about 10 seconds. He and Lela are working toward the goal together. Aidan noticed that Lela was making more progress than he was and that is when the request for more swim lessons came into play. We've been on a 5 month break from them because Aidan was having trouble remembering that swim lessons are for learning, not playing. We did the first of 8 lessons this week with much improved participation. He may get that wrist badge of honor yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><em style="font-weight: bold;">Eating </em>slowly. From birth, he has been a slow eater. This has not improved with age. No worries on him suffering from indigestion. Reagan and I might have to add a padded portion to the wall though. Our foreheads could use a break. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><strong><em>Playing</em></strong> with Lela. Or James (new neighbor) or Abby if Lela is unavailable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Singing </b>made-up ditties. His CD preferences are the same: a lot of <i>Frozen</i>, Charlie Hope, and Kenny Loggins (kid songs) so those songs stay the same but he puts a lot more of his life to random tune. My favorite to-date is the poop sung, overheard one day while he was, you know, pooping. The exact words and tune elude me but it was something to the effect of "POOP! We all go POOP! There are many kinds of poooop. Sometimes it comes out nice. And when we are sick we have dia-RE-AHA. Diarrhea is brown and runny. Sometimes we can see the food that we eat in our POOP!..." and so on. I should have recorded it but I was doubled over laughing. That moment is right up there with another all-time favorite potty moment: "MAMA! I'm a volcano and poop is erupting out my bottom!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Asking</b> for his money pouch. He got a taste of the freedom having his own spending money provides while we were vacationing this summer. He had some money from cash gifts presented earlier in the year and while, perusing a museum gift shop, decided to use it to buy another set of plastic animals </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><strong><em>Negotiating</em></strong><em> </em> the struggle of being 4 while his closest friends turn 5. He wants to be 5 too, or for them to still be 4. Usually any mention of this topic brings on instant tears and demands for reality to somehow alter itself. Recently, a child on the playground asked Aidan how old he was. "I'm 4.5," he answered. "You're 4?," replied the child. "No! I'm 4.5," countered Aidan. "What's 4.5?" the child asked. "The <i>oldest</i> kind of 4!" stated an exasperated Aidan. And so it goes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Wearing</b> no underwear. Still. He used to wear underwear on Tuesdays and Fridays but now he is commando 100% of the time. The only exception is when he is wearing <i>only</i> underwear. Then he's fine with it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh yes, and red sparkle Crocs. He's in heaven.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><strong><em>Looking</em></strong> around his world and asking questions about everything. So many questions. Good ones. Thoughtful ones. Insightful ones. He wants to know what he doesn't know and then he wants to know some more. </span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Creating </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Saying </i>"Oh. My. Gosh...." and "From time to time..." Sometimes I hear myself repeated back to me. Other times I have no idea where he comes up with his phrases. </span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-3127584553174625712015-09-05T21:00:00.001-10:002015-09-05T21:00:52.910-10:00Week in the Life 2015 | Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Friday | August 21, 2015</div>
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The day started off calm enough. I spent some quiet time in the morning working on...whatever I was working on. I like lots of quiet in my day so mornings, before the house is bursting with noise and energy, are delightful for me. Reagan had the day off from work so he stayed in bed reading articles on his Surface tablet. Aidan awoke of his own accord (not a common occurrence these days) and happily so. We didn't hear him get up. The only warning we had was a "LOOK OUT BELOW!" before AJ dropped from the second floor down into the hallway. </div>
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I asked Aidan what compelled him to toss AJ over the stairs and send Baby Bear sliding down the banister. He looked at me very seriously and said: "AJ wanted to fall and Baby Bear wanted to slide. They like to do that from time-to-time. What's today called?" "Friday," I answered. "They like to do that every Friday." he replied.<br />
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My words came back at me today. The kitchen is a mess from our latest ant invasion. Aidan looked at me and said: "You made the mess so you have to clean it up. Go!" I didn't move fast enough so he put me in a 50 second timeout on the stairs (good counting practice for him). When I pretend-whined about having to clean up, he stayed firm. The kitchen is now clean.<br />
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Every so often these little role-reversals come up. I let them play out because it gives me an inclination of what Aidan is hearing (vs. what I think I'm saying) and it lets me model some of his behavior back to him. It's always enlightening.<br />
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Reagan gets in a run or two a week these days. Aidan usually makes <i>eewww</i> comments about how sweaty Reagan is and refuses to hug him. This morning Reagan left a little later so there was some cuddle action before the run.<br />
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While Reagan was out running, I took a few minutes to eat and read. Breakfast this morning was cinnamon-cumin roasted carrots and parsnips topped with two eggs over medium and an avocado garnish. Delish! All part of my healthier eating plan. I enjoyed my final glass of Tazo Chai Tea latte mix with soy milk. In an effort to reduce my processed sugar intake, the tea mix is getting the boot. It's back to the Good Earth Sweet & Spicy tea bags for me.<br />
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Reagan refuses to get his own Facebook page but will happily spend 30-40 minutes at a time scrolling through mine. He likes seeing but not participating. In this couple, that's my job. Because of his sweaty grossness, he was relegated to Aidan's stool for reading.<br />
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Right before a weekend trip to the beach seemed like the perfect time to detail the car. That was Reagan's big morning project while Aidan and I left to meet friends. Despite the odd timing of this particular cleaning session, I do enjoy it when Reagan cleans my car. It is a complete after-thought for me but, just like a made bed, I enjoy getting into a clean car.<br />
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So many choices when leaving the base.</div>
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Racing to meet his friends.</div>
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The dinosaur exhibit is only here for a few more weeks. Obviously that means the gift shop is more interesting than the displays. Luca brought $12 of his spending money; Aidan had $3.20. We just started an allowance with him. He is under the misguided impression that if he doesn't have enough spending money, I will just give him some more. Um, no. Not exactly what we are trying to teach regarding fiscal responsibility. </div>
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Aidan looked around for a while but, after realizing he didn't have enough money to buy anything he wanted, he moved on with essentially no whining. That's a big deal for him. I was proud. Of course, I went back and bought the elasmosaurus figurine he'd been hankering for. It will make an excellent birthday or Christmas gift. </div>
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Aidan also asked Luca how he'd accumulated so much money. Luca has a special job at home which he earns $1 a week for if it is completed daily, on time, and without fuss. Aidan was intrigued. He has shown no interest in such a thing until now but at his prompting, Reagan and I talked it over and agreed on having Aidan set the table every night. Aidan seems excited. We'll see how it goes. </div>
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I love picnics in the grass under a big tree. I should make time to do more of them.</div>
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No trip to the Bishop Museum is complete without a visit to the volcano. We've made about 82 trips to this place since living here but it still holds as much fascination today as it did two years ago. </div>
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A walk up the glow-in-the-dark Hawaiian tunnel is also a must. Doubly fun if your clothes glow too. </div>
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Upon our return we found Reagan hard at work, mowing. He tends to do several neighbors' yards at once, usually in response to illness, a husband's TDY, or just because he enjoys it. </div>
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Reagan and I prepped for our beach weekend while Aidan did quiet time. The later in the afternoon it got, the snippier we were with each other. That seems to be the way of things when we are trying to hurry up to go have fun. We just want to get there already and are irritated by things that slow us down, including each other and Aidan.<br />
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The cilantro is trucking right along.</div>
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Every weekend outing takes more prep time than I think it will and this one was no exception. After chopping, packing, and loading we managed to roll out of the house 1.5 hours past our goal departure time. We were the last family to arrive. Our Bellows weekend includes some of our favorite neighbors: Brant, Sara, Lela, and Estelle; Craig, Jamie, Andy, and Abby; David, Annie, Kate, and Claire; and us. Three of the families are in the condo units. The Reillys have a cabin down the way. </div>
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We ran into part of our crew at the check-in office. They were headed out to play putt-putt golf (Aidan's favorite Bellows AFB past-time) so Aidan tagged along with them while Reagan and I got the car unloaded. </div>
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Aidan wanted to try the climbing wall. He was a little nervous at first but made it to the top after a few tries and got himself back down again with minimal help. He is proud of himself. Me too.</div>
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Dinner was interrupted by a text from Sara: she has cupcakes for Lela's birthday and they want to come celebrate. We had planned on an early night but cupcakes and friends do not a tired boy make. It was awesome spending social time with our friends, away from day-to-day life.<br />
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Three weeks ago eating a cupcake would have been a no-brainer for me. It's a celebration, after all. However, I'm trying to reduce my intake of processed sugar and I knew my favorite cookies were waiting for me in the fridge. If I was going to have a sugar treat, I really wanted it to be the cookies. I spent way more time debating my options than was necessary. There might be something to the whole complete elimination thing after all. Then the decision is just made for me. I can move on to more interesting topics in my mind. <br />
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I realized around bedtime I'd forgotten my glasses, extra camera battery, and the camera charger. Good thing we have the waterproof point-and-shoot. All is not lost where WITL is concerned. Some might say it is a sign to just take it easy for the weekend but I am not one of them. I am committed to being committed. I need a completion win under my belt.<br />
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For the record, this is what my world looks like without the benefit of contacts or glasses. A -4.25 prescription in both eyes is no joke.<br />
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It was not the most restful of nights. I need to remember to pack my own pillow next time we come. And ear plugs. I hate the sound of venetian blinds knocking together from fan-generated air movement. It is next to impossible for me to tune it out. Even though we turned out the light at a reasonable time (9:30ish) I slept lightly, more like resting than sleeping.<br />
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At about 2 a.m. Aidan called out: "Mama, I'm frightened." It's hard to tell if he is or he isn't. He uses that word for a lot of things that are not actually fear-inducing. In any case, I snuggled up to him on the twin bed until he went to sleep again then returned to my bed. Several minutes later, he called out again. In the interest of everyone going back to sleep and staying that way, I crawled into the other twin bed in his room for the remainder of the night. I used AJ as a pillow since Aidan had both pillows on his bed. I think I'll steal him for tomorrow night too. The crocodile is much more comfortable than what I've been sleeping on.<br />
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I spent much of the remaining time in my head: composing blog posts, having imaginary conversations, contemplating Montessori stuff, and so on. I was too tired to get up and record any of it but not tired enough to just pass out. So frustrating. At 7:22 a.m. I tapped out, announcing "tag" to a swimsuit-clad Reagan as I closed the door to our bedroom and attempted sleep. 24 minutes later, I was up for the day<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-2576536939181248002015-09-03T10:45:00.000-10:002015-09-03T10:45:03.978-10:00Week in the Life 2015 | Thursday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thursday | August 20, 2015</div>
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Today, one day out of this whole week, our normal routine will prevail. Reagan is back to his regular schedule at work. It's a school day at the Discovery Center. I'll have a few hours to work through my to-do list. I take a deep breath. I'm feeling good already.</div>
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This is pretty standard breakfast fare for Aidan: fruit, a frozen waffle (the more frozen, the better), granola, and milk. Sometimes there is yogurt. Some days, eggs. Occasionally he eats oatmeal.<br />
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Twirly morning hair: it took me 12 shots to get one with the focus in the right spot. Wiggly person + changing light = frustration! Aidan was <i>done</i> long before I was. The twisted hair screams early mornings around here though and I wanted that shot.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgc8fhX73RUyNAzp6rSl-U8Jifug8fMNud3phzVMRluyfFsGlNRjOJ04wIYwHAlHz1oZGdkjxDV2K7V6eGeJ59lm1-T8Kvp_3KgSSb4DRj9QoFGHNvcNinEz8HZw0qbLdgdU_jkOpXK5J/s1600/IMG_9236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgc8fhX73RUyNAzp6rSl-U8Jifug8fMNud3phzVMRluyfFsGlNRjOJ04wIYwHAlHz1oZGdkjxDV2K7V6eGeJ59lm1-T8Kvp_3KgSSb4DRj9QoFGHNvcNinEz8HZw0qbLdgdU_jkOpXK5J/s640/IMG_9236.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="background-color: #444444;">Someday those legs will touch the floor, but not today. That make my mama-heart happy. </span></div>
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We took the plastic cover off his chair a few months ago. He sits more comfortably but we are constantly reminding him to use his napkin and not his shirt/shorts/chair for wiping. </div>
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Many days Aidan requests turkey for his lunch. He likes turkey sandwiches, turkey/salami rolls, or just piles of turkey and thin crisp Triscuits to make sandwiches with. Most days I strive for a balance of protein, veggies, and fruits in his lunch. Some days I don't. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicVHB0N3733eDVg0EaVo2unT1Hl3zHoyFwingAP81lYXD6hb0fft8wpSadpExuJOKG5wzFouvdKslRvCMrCR2P03XmWq7yXiNmCAxIvcdbRB-ysoJNkhIOB300KqWY6Vo9gNTfTESkIdP/s1600/IMG_9254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicVHB0N3733eDVg0EaVo2unT1Hl3zHoyFwingAP81lYXD6hb0fft8wpSadpExuJOKG5wzFouvdKslRvCMrCR2P03XmWq7yXiNmCAxIvcdbRB-ysoJNkhIOB300KqWY6Vo9gNTfTESkIdP/s640/IMG_9254.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Aidan likes to do his morning routine downstairs. Some days I remember to grab his clothes on the way down, some days I have to make an extra trip. He's slow to get going in the morning and will often pause mid-dressing to stare off into space. </div>
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On school days, the front passenger seat of my car looks like this: purse, backpack, extra clothes for Aidan (just in case), his still-to-be-consumed breakfast, water glass, and sometimes, tea. Underneath or to the side of all that can be found: black out curtains I've been meaning to return for the past 2 months, Kleenex, (a must-have in any car), an applesauce (because having a snack on-hand is also a must), a hat (it's Hawaii, after all), and my ever-present mama emergency bag (containing things like hand sanitizer, a tide stain pen, band-aids, notebook, pen, more tissue, hair ties, an eye-mask (always hopeful about getting in that nap), lip gloss, and so-on). That bag goes where I go. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRdILKvowFaI6u4aTqz1HKk1rJmsHwpJbpAIZuoZh7-oI_KhsInTKE1VO7ciPY-f59Kqc-HRpzRpcqQuUhb9hsd5jFfkm5QvzU_HWBVu7diRyDKszTnTW961ombE2H6NOaBg9fie5GNRx/s1600/2015-08-20+18.32.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRdILKvowFaI6u4aTqz1HKk1rJmsHwpJbpAIZuoZh7-oI_KhsInTKE1VO7ciPY-f59Kqc-HRpzRpcqQuUhb9hsd5jFfkm5QvzU_HWBVu7diRyDKszTnTW961ombE2H6NOaBg9fie5GNRx/s640/2015-08-20+18.32.49.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We log a lot of miles together. <span style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On the way to school today Aidan asked me if I was practicing to be a real photographer. I asked: "What makes you think I'm not one already?" He's thinking on that and getting back to me. I'm not actually sure where he was going with that or why he thought to ask (it's not as if he's never seen me use my camera) but it did get me thinking. Truthfully, I have considered developing my photography skills further and going into business. I added it to my "to-contemplate" list in Evernote and am letting the idea marinate. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEN8K6ZoUOr9PLlE0Im3aXRH6_bVZf0bMd8Q5cYr7lG9Z4mL8Czan61mXeS7wjX0huB3GDwilh2pyXubzA7NkibyoqMg82A6IBIZ-JhB3RFRutBxyjzzUVgyJh2ihZV_O-e_VnDk4yUskF/s1600/2015-08-20+08.43.33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEN8K6ZoUOr9PLlE0Im3aXRH6_bVZf0bMd8Q5cYr7lG9Z4mL8Czan61mXeS7wjX0huB3GDwilh2pyXubzA7NkibyoqMg82A6IBIZ-JhB3RFRutBxyjzzUVgyJh2ihZV_O-e_VnDk4yUskF/s640/2015-08-20+08.43.33.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I investigated larger backpack options but, frankly, I'm just not ready for Aidan to part with this bee backpack. I bought it for him when he was a baby, one of my many Okinawa gift shop finds. I love that he runs back to give me a kiss on the lips and a "Bye, Mom!" every time I drop him off. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJlsM7PgpPnvXWvBI3wOb38UYaN6Rx3wg92TRX217N7hHOLnwl0I1u_LB7reQUHMKGEDLbXFxBYXgn5DfLUzPtWGqYP3SlArvNlkCYSJooQScQo6VhQKHvjrA6MbONOR1AtXU8kj5DWPu/s1600/2015-08-20+09.09.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJlsM7PgpPnvXWvBI3wOb38UYaN6Rx3wg92TRX217N7hHOLnwl0I1u_LB7reQUHMKGEDLbXFxBYXgn5DfLUzPtWGqYP3SlArvNlkCYSJooQScQo6VhQKHvjrA6MbONOR1AtXU8kj5DWPu/s640/2015-08-20+09.09.29.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is the point where I realize I somehow managed to turn on a filter on my phone's camera and am now stuck with stupidly colored, tiny pictures. It is definitely a GRRR! moment for me. I am not a fan of phone photo filters or tiny, unprintable photos, especially when there are cute pictures involved! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaXOrVEnhZwaGZEEhD4TsOcLtTgCCt7KwrewF44OKtMfH60VDC8ENm6FA-8jzGaiNtGmJNB8Rfa-qKxrfKaVZnf11m9fD-YYJ-C1gG4b3c89C-medtj74U_RR4r7-2XP3w8oqmgE0diM6/s1600/IMG_9262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaXOrVEnhZwaGZEEhD4TsOcLtTgCCt7KwrewF44OKtMfH60VDC8ENm6FA-8jzGaiNtGmJNB8Rfa-qKxrfKaVZnf11m9fD-YYJ-C1gG4b3c89C-medtj74U_RR4r7-2XP3w8oqmgE0diM6/s640/IMG_9262.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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When the house is mine for a while, I generally operate in silence. I often start my time in the kitchen reading blog posts, flipping through cookbooks, or researching a topic that interests me. I don't clean during me-time. I don't do anything during me-time that can be done with easy or moderate difficulty when a child is around. This is <u>my</u> time. I relish it!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgMnxY9F2UNa6qLh8O_kKSI9Y97uLB3itOxb_DkgxNoro9_E8HDuV8RPnjw51wHURs4Xc6mgnh5WkV0IIWIUrgwil0ST9Xjqf7l-IqNAaiGHApUIIoTCoqqR-HE2BuItoIYlYnKXbZBnk/s1600/2015-08-20+09.22.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgMnxY9F2UNa6qLh8O_kKSI9Y97uLB3itOxb_DkgxNoro9_E8HDuV8RPnjw51wHURs4Xc6mgnh5WkV0IIWIUrgwil0ST9Xjqf7l-IqNAaiGHApUIIoTCoqqR-HE2BuItoIYlYnKXbZBnk/s640/2015-08-20+09.22.15.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Part of the WITL project involves capturing myself in a lot more photos than I might otherwise be in. Occasionally I have to get creative with how that happens. I have a tripod. I could use it, but where is the fun in that. Somehow this seems easier in the moment. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVRyDW49u6azTzZ0OxPw8bfcHHG1m9kOqCVT0ompsmtorI1icZg-2T9xy_NRlQw7u3gY90Z_WjSpwNlQbDQYJ14ni6YiBYjAA764spZRljVSTcGkc_nF-WaT5iCjGqgg-qG1TU5FZ9xwL7/s1600/IMG_9266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVRyDW49u6azTzZ0OxPw8bfcHHG1m9kOqCVT0ompsmtorI1icZg-2T9xy_NRlQw7u3gY90Z_WjSpwNlQbDQYJ14ni6YiBYjAA764spZRljVSTcGkc_nF-WaT5iCjGqgg-qG1TU5FZ9xwL7/s640/IMG_9266.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Most days I like to curl up with a good cookbook. These days I am researching the Paleo way of life. Here's my completely unscientific observations since instituting this method of eating: my weird food aversions seem to have dissipated and I haven't been <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Hangry" target="_blank">hangry</a> at all this week. That second one is a big accomplishment for me. Anyone closely related to me will understand. We haven't gone whole hog Paleo (or Whole 30) but there continues to be a significant reduction in the key no-no food areas, as well as an increase in healthy fats and vegetables. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBVShBhHqpV8m9x8gIJGMbLI_5EpeSR4e6a2ZWvzziWnHr19NzP9C412sLKKvKkokbToI08VNC6OysDkdmn1mXOJdi6ARX5KN8ElDa-pVn34cFjtniXd_JZFhswWiJFUWsrPngnc_X3ft/s1600/IMG_9274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBVShBhHqpV8m9x8gIJGMbLI_5EpeSR4e6a2ZWvzziWnHr19NzP9C412sLKKvKkokbToI08VNC6OysDkdmn1mXOJdi6ARX5KN8ElDa-pVn34cFjtniXd_JZFhswWiJFUWsrPngnc_X3ft/s640/IMG_9274.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The home page of my kindle is a pretty good snapshot of my varied reading these days. A little Montessori/homeschooling, a little organizing, a little how-to-keep-from-throttling-my-child-when-he-______(fill in the blank), a fiction book I keep meaning to get to but never seem to have time for, and a little historical romance because I just enjoy the well-written ones. They are an easy read (and re-read) when I want something requiring minimal brain power and that won't keep me up until all hours of the night (at least not after the first read through).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzC-HVGA1j_A34Rr3sjj1Gj39LfE6Uw1Si-U492qChfkPEA50xDhR8ZE8fPGqKTBfCwqdnmWfgGOzFE2ltQYb4_hpzeEym_z61nDPMofyrxrc8wr5E6f3BFYfIw0zkNnP9SX3rU-wp0a7/s1600/IMG_9269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzC-HVGA1j_A34Rr3sjj1Gj39LfE6Uw1Si-U492qChfkPEA50xDhR8ZE8fPGqKTBfCwqdnmWfgGOzFE2ltQYb4_hpzeEym_z61nDPMofyrxrc8wr5E6f3BFYfIw0zkNnP9SX3rU-wp0a7/s640/IMG_9269.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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More of my to-read pile. I'll get there, someday. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwhUMP0aLnBNMxx-CJYqWCN7XyuT5CYL4A8YBNtMhj_nHVCyE1Y6C73jpIA0Yh0rogo9VvuNkjY_O8sMj_nsDo7FlmmCe3r41i9oFFVOT_y0UWMfThEHGTe9SLaH4Wh2p1uMlN7atPSwV/s1600/IMG_9280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwhUMP0aLnBNMxx-CJYqWCN7XyuT5CYL4A8YBNtMhj_nHVCyE1Y6C73jpIA0Yh0rogo9VvuNkjY_O8sMj_nsDo7FlmmCe3r41i9oFFVOT_y0UWMfThEHGTe9SLaH4Wh2p1uMlN7atPSwV/s640/IMG_9280.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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In the interest of keeping it real, here is what our bedroom looks like most days. At the end of the day I'm still too lazy 5 days out of 7 to walk my clothes from the side of the bed to the hamper 8 steps away. I usually take care of it when a couple day's worth have piled up. I also haven't embraced bed making. Most days, I just don't see the point although I do like to walk into a room with a made bed. Ironic, I know. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAbCGHa8JSPAAUZlAgk7hGKEzk7fHp58rTXJRDE9Yp5nwQc5nIIjsYRwQAMLHUajFzH6FYt1KWdDi6Y3Z4RtkRXyx-4cavxd3o5b0MzrA9qiY29Q56qW8F1p26Jy3ojYQtW3gEepUnWoT/s1600/IMG_9282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAbCGHa8JSPAAUZlAgk7hGKEzk7fHp58rTXJRDE9Yp5nwQc5nIIjsYRwQAMLHUajFzH6FYt1KWdDi6Y3Z4RtkRXyx-4cavxd3o5b0MzrA9qiY29Q56qW8F1p26Jy3ojYQtW3gEepUnWoT/s640/IMG_9282.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lest one think Reagan's side is any better, it's not. I did, however make the bed before taking the picture because he is a bed maker and this is a more accurate view of what our room would look like if he had his way 100% of the time. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWpWOBZHToBsGkyVjfqHvsl8VZYeREHPi7nWdyRyzlQbHaxIAq2uGlQ0IsfqBAz9CiiaEB7FbOT009PBaHeJVb1tK6ie3ZCXjqk5E4sPhSVt93aKkSyztAqpcOPf0swhOJ_4g7lvf9aFT/s1600/IMG_9290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWpWOBZHToBsGkyVjfqHvsl8VZYeREHPi7nWdyRyzlQbHaxIAq2uGlQ0IsfqBAz9CiiaEB7FbOT009PBaHeJVb1tK6ie3ZCXjqk5E4sPhSVt93aKkSyztAqpcOPf0swhOJ_4g7lvf9aFT/s640/IMG_9290.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And then there is the guest room or, as I prefer to refer to it, my over-sized inbox. I like it when people come to visit. It motivates me to do something with the accumulated stuff other than closing the door on it. Fortunately, we live in Hawaii and never go more than a couple months without visitors so nothing scary lives in this room. </div>
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The upstairs desk is another work-in-progress. I have a large-format printer and a Silhouette Cameo that do a fine job collecting dust. I'd really like to change that. </div>
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The descent. I love our entry area. It makes me smile when I come down the stairs each morning, doubly so once the autumn wreaths are hanging (not pictured). Fall makes me happy. </div>
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Most days Aidan's bed nook area looks like this. Every so often I require him to put all the books back on a shelf and once in a blue moon I will attempt to organize them but, by-and-large, the area looks like this from one day to the next. He always has a water bottle and some version of a flashlight by his bed. Hidden from this view are pictures of his adoring parents and a cluster of fake pink flowers. He loves them, I let them be. Many of his books get rotated out of the bed area into one of the other book deposits semi-regularly (happens organically during play) but his Hallmark read-to-me books and his picture album tend to stay put. </div>
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The view from his pillow. We also rotate toys fairly regularly but the three baskets on the bottom right have taken up permanent residence. Those baskets from left-to-right: his upstairs collection of animals (there is another full basket downstairs); things that move, but mostly airplanes; and his train set. Items deemed too special for casual play go higher up. Everything else is fair game.<br />
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I've had this bookcase since high school. A very talented friend painted it for me and I've found a home for it in every place I've lived since the day he gifted it to me. </div>
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The reading pile from yesterday's quiet time.<br />
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The reading corner in the hallway (as opposed the the reading nook in his bedroom a.k.a., his top bunk). Some days, Aidan sits here for an hour or longer flipping through pages. He usually leaves a stack of books in his wake. Some nights he likes to sleep on the reading cushion. He asks more often than his request is approved. </div>
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My work space. Back in March, the desk went from being buried in piles to completely clear. Most days I make an effort to keep it clear when I am not working. However, I'm currently buried in post-vacation backlog and have not achieved a clear desk again yet. </div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;">Most days I sit down with a planner to map out my day/week. My ongoing action item lists reside in Evernote but I am still a pen and paper girl at heart so my list for the day get written down longhand. </span></div>
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Several times a week I tackle my physical inbox (basket) and as well as my online ones. I have notepads all around the house to capture on-the-fly thoughts so this is the time I bring them all together and redistribute the items to their appropriate home (action items, memory keeping, file, etc.) Several months ago I started putting everything that needed my attention in the basket in order to reduce the paper clutter that was accumulating elsewhere. I then deal with it throughout the week, as time allows. Generally, the system has been working great. I'm still tweaking the overall GTD execution but am so happy I stumbled upon it this past winter. It's helped me get my brain wrapped around my life and move forward on projects that have been sitting dormant for years. </div>
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While I was taking pictures around the house Aidan was busy learning. Each month has a different theme; this month is "garden inspectors." The classroom assistant takes pictures every day and posts them to a Shutterfly gallery. I love being able to peek inside his days. </div>
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At pick-up, he said: "Mama, we got to go to the Rainforest Room today! But the crocodile was gone so I went up into the treehouse and pretended to be Jack from <i>The Magic Treehouse.</i>" I love how he fuses stories and play together. </div>
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Practicing ice cream scoops (crawl stroke)</div>
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Swim lessons are a struggle. We stopped going about 5 months ago because Aidan wanted to play, not listen. I wasn't actually planning on enrolling him again but he begged for them and I capitulated. I hoped that because he was asking for them this time there might be a different outcome with the play vs. listening struggle. Last week went really well. This week, not so much. Unfortunately, it is a hot button issue for me at this point: I go from calm to ticked in a nano-second. At the end of the lesson there was a lot of lecturing and threatening. Not one of my finer moments. </div>
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When I was calmer, Aidan and I talked the situation over again. I asked him how he could help himself remember that lessons are for listening and learning. I got a classic Aidan response: "Mama. Kid-a-neys (kidneys) send messages to our bodies so I will send my kid-a-neys a message from my throat and they will send a message to my body." Problem solved. </div>
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He likes to open and shut the car door on his own now. Every so often I give him a reminder to try it again with more force. Most days he does it perfectly the first time. </div>
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I posted a picture of Aidan's upset/angry face earlier this week. I thought it was only fair to include one of mine as well since it does make an appearance occasionally. Obviously this is a re-enactment. When this face comes out, I am definitely <i>not</i> thinking clearly enough to go grab the camera. </div>
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Lela knocking at the back door, an almost daily experience. "Can Aidan play?" </div>
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After make-up hugs and I love you kisses, Aidan spent about 30 minutes in quiet time. When Lela showed up, I let her go up and join him. It's an occasional treat for Aidan, not a regular occurrence. We all do quiet time in the afternoon. It is mandatory for my sanity. </div>
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At 3:15 we started making our way towards the pool. Given our pool luck so far this week and the ominous looking clouds, I can't say I was overly hopeful about this outing. Aidan and I made it to the pool first. We played Whale, Whale, Krill (think Duck, Duck, Goose, with some Aidan tweaks) until Lela showed up. </div>
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At 3:50 the whistle blew for the hourly 10 minute break. Aidan and Lela lined up to do the swim test again. Aidan did complete the swim portion and treaded water for almost the full 30 seconds. He needs to work on keeping his chin and ears above the water during the whole tread portion but he's definitely making progress. I love how supportive most of the lifeguards are, giving the kids kudos and encouraging them to try again tomorrow. </div>
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I took the opportunity to swim laps while the kids were otherwise occupied. I forget how much I like swimming until I do it. I'd like to incorporate it into my workout routine on a more regular basis. </div>
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About 10 minutes into my lap swim it started pouring down rain. The lifeguards closed the pool temporarily but the kids had a great time with the puddles. Once the rain cleared out, the pool area had too so we had the pool to ourselves for the remainder of the afternoon. It was awesome!</div>
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I thought about face-swapping but, despite the lifeguard's best attempts, there is not a single picture of a happy Aidan to switch with. Too bad. It was a great afternoon with the Reilly's.</div>
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And then the ants descended. I am perfectly happy to let all manner of creatures live peacefully outside. Inside is a different story. </div>
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While I was making dinner, Aidan came running in to tell me there was a rainbow I just <i>had</i> to see. We see rainbows often here but we don't usually see them like this: full and framing our neighborhood. Such a great way to document this piece of Hawaii life.</div>
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At dinner, I whispered to Aidan the name of the birthday gift Reagan will be receiving from my parents. Reagan, who is absolutely terrible about waiting to get or give presents, spent most of dinner trying to guess what it is. Aidan kept getting out of his chair to whisper in my ear: "I'm tricking him, Mama." Then he'd giggle and go right back to playing the guessing game with Reagan. Aidan did spill the beans but in such an outlandish way that I don't think either of them realized it. Awesome game though. </div>
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We are heading out for the weekend so, after putting the kitchen back together, again!, I started the laundry process. Just like dishes I prefer to do large batches of laundry all at once rather than having continuous loads going throughout the week. It makes for marathon laundry days but then I don't have to think about it again all week. </div>
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The rest of Bellows prep got delayed until tomorrow. There was a more appealing offer for cuddle time on the couch with my husband. We don't get a lot of that. Reagan is working his way through the most recent season of <i>Mountain Men</i>. I don't watch the show on my own but there is something fun about watching it with Reagan. </div>
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He surprised me by announcing a strong craving for buttered popcorn, heavy on the butter. I'm usually the popcorn person in our couple, minus the butter, but when he is in the mood he does make a nicely seasoned batch. Aidan, who was not asleep <sigh>, heard the tell-tale sound of kernels popping and called down for some too. Later that night, while picking through the popcorn, trying to find a few that hadn't drowned in butter, I commented that it was too bad my mom wasn't here to partake. She would have fully appreciated Reagan's popcorn toppings this evening. </sigh></div>
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By the time we finished our popcorn and show, Aidan had finally decided to throw in the towel too. We checked on him together, smiled at our beautiful, sleeping boy, and then turned out the hall light before climbing into bed ourselves. </div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-26532865963046494162015-08-31T14:18:00.001-10:002015-08-31T14:18:53.499-10:00Week in the Life 2015 | Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Wednesday | August 19, 2015</div>
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Happy 35th birthday, Reagan! </div>
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Reagan is still participating in the exercise, working an 11 am-11 pm shift, so we opted for a breakfast celebration. His preferred birthday meal is <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/tuna-salad-recipe.html" target="_blank">tuna avocado salad</a> followed by eggless raisin cake with cream cheese frosting, just the way his grandma used to make it for him. Given the early morning hour we opted for the cake, minus frosting. He'll get his tuna dinner another night. </div>
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Love this. Love these two. A happy snuggle while Aidan read Reagan his birthday card.</div>
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Our first family bike ride in a while. Aidan is still sporting his training wheels but we discussed the possibility of removing them. He says soon. He's grown an inch in the past 2 months. Time to raise the seat again. </div>
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Aidan watches shows a couple times a week. This morning he chose <i>Little Einsteins</i>. I like that the show focuses on classical music in an engaging way. As Aidan gets older he interacts with shows more, following the prompts from characters. Here he is keeping time with the beat of the music. </div>
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Most days Reagan comes home for lunch. This week Reagan has been packing enough for lunch and dinner to tide him through his 12-14 hour shifts. </div>
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I made my peace with Blogger this morning. A few hours sleep, renewed resolved, and more time messing with formatting got me to a place I can live in for the moment. Back to photo work. Turned on the most recent video from Ali Edwards's Story subscription series (Build) and started in on the photos from yesterday. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjV0wulclsbQHRLL6cNCJ4bT14Mibu5Ww3jvKHmlulcwsQTsYPMnntk0s7dO8f-MiiAvS_MujcRV7YRIKML0BUdeJjvHpqxv4i2wNeguWGYTywfPLBAM4IpeCbvpjaQ4hXmBUzs2dzUOA/s1600/IMG_9079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjV0wulclsbQHRLL6cNCJ4bT14Mibu5Ww3jvKHmlulcwsQTsYPMnntk0s7dO8f-MiiAvS_MujcRV7YRIKML0BUdeJjvHpqxv4i2wNeguWGYTywfPLBAM4IpeCbvpjaQ4hXmBUzs2dzUOA/s640/IMG_9079.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Our days involve a lot of this. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvDchMfdkNslHazpwZEp7bEY-fXKFrqsmOP1k_pqQo5FFwXEsuRs9Y0YEj3KPq1k_0IwXvHNrBwZoxIe6azkpgcv2HrB-CQOWQvlnRkSQnFpkmatr86G_M5aAT1PmlwrHJPEh8frkIk0n/s1600/IMG_9082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvDchMfdkNslHazpwZEp7bEY-fXKFrqsmOP1k_pqQo5FFwXEsuRs9Y0YEj3KPq1k_0IwXvHNrBwZoxIe6azkpgcv2HrB-CQOWQvlnRkSQnFpkmatr86G_M5aAT1PmlwrHJPEh8frkIk0n/s640/IMG_9082.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And this.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwrQaqE2o1WA12s5Izwfs9sYG0QmSpTGGgVitgENoqOxN-drrg8c1DJlUGZ5Rv1m_ZuhGVcXEpZuRIlvHNfwOX7_Nmo4OMKdIL8h2m4imBT92e2FJOP7ScfKc-d1xIAuRpI1oiUt1CqoU/s1600/IMG_9105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwrQaqE2o1WA12s5Izwfs9sYG0QmSpTGGgVitgENoqOxN-drrg8c1DJlUGZ5Rv1m_ZuhGVcXEpZuRIlvHNfwOX7_Nmo4OMKdIL8h2m4imBT92e2FJOP7ScfKc-d1xIAuRpI1oiUt1CqoU/s640/IMG_9105.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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As Aidan gets older he is able to take responsibility for more projects. Today he switched out the batteries on his books, identifying battery polarity and practicing proper installation.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJLu-eKrBEGUQxbiNj9osVpmSx8tqdvuzzwUEFNgN3BG-StH7Ey6_0w1mUEl_PQqOhGrZsLa4s4iAsSD52TzmyoGrBv2Mvp3X5JAtxmyLSjUgS5mxbHTCmDF11QwOv1__2DvnddRWoL5G/s1600/IMG_9107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJLu-eKrBEGUQxbiNj9osVpmSx8tqdvuzzwUEFNgN3BG-StH7Ey6_0w1mUEl_PQqOhGrZsLa4s4iAsSD52TzmyoGrBv2Mvp3X5JAtxmyLSjUgS5mxbHTCmDF11QwOv1__2DvnddRWoL5G/s640/IMG_9107.jpg" width="640" /></a>This week saw me cooking a lot of meat. I'm switching up our meal plans and planning ahead again. I like having the food ready to go at dinner time but I do feel like I've been a bit of a slave to the kitchen these past few days. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-yzoX6mi3NcuLBjQ99fyi6UspSFMm3NPf0V5nBavrM1u-SxFGtaAgHgo9yFKEBVthOYSgyDAtp32vRmI120mtp2Gzg0Z1gWKBueUCAmWXmFkIk7Eut9rmoBaEw7pP4J3oLnvQ5dYTdL8V/s1600/IMG_9115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-yzoX6mi3NcuLBjQ99fyi6UspSFMm3NPf0V5nBavrM1u-SxFGtaAgHgo9yFKEBVthOYSgyDAtp32vRmI120mtp2Gzg0Z1gWKBueUCAmWXmFkIk7Eut9rmoBaEw7pP4J3oLnvQ5dYTdL8V/s640/IMG_9115.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Making the trek to Lela's house. It's a well-traveled path.</div>
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The dining table is a collecting spot for piles. Today's assortment includes the pool bag, my camera bag, the box for our new dustbuster, Aidan's allowance jars, reading materials for co-op prep, and the remnants of lunch. I worked on the blog while Aidan ate. Missing from the picture is a bowl with more grape stems than grapes. Aidan is a grape monster.</div>
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During the day our sink often looks like this. I prefer to do dishes in batches, usually while listening to online class videos or podcasts at night. I used to be fine leaving them overnight but I prefer to come down to a clean kitchen in the morning these days. </div>
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Aidan voted for another combined quiet time/bedtime. I didn't put up much of a fight. It's been working for us and, with the scheduling all funky this week, it doesn't really matter. As long as he keeps a good attitude, I'm fine. I did remind him that we would be going back to our regularly scheduled life next week. That means a daily routine of school, lunch, quiet time, and then play. He assures me he won't throw a fit about it. I <i>want</i> to believe him. I really do. </div>
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One of their favorite activities is picking the grass (we are constantly trying to redirect them to the weeds) and building nests for their play or imaginary animals.<br />
Today they watered the nest to help it grow. </div>
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Most days involve this. They can spend hours up here in his room. Sometimes I listen from the hallway, just outside of their view. I love the world they play in. </div>
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THUMP! The jumping has begun. We've approved feet-first jumping from the top bunk. </div>
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Every kid's dream </div>
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His interest in <i>The Jungle Book</i> is recent. He and Boppa watched it in July, now he's hooked. Wondering when to introduce him to the real story, minus the Disney spin. </div>
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Of course, all things <i>Frozen</i> still reign.</div>
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I smile every time I open the door to my recently reorganized pantry. </div>
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This structured happiness counters my kitchen table piles. </div>
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The fridge was looking pretty good too...</div>
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...and then maintenance showed up to fix our fridge (which for the past two years has done a really good job of acting like another freezer for anything that was unfortunate enough to be tucked in the back half of the unit) so everything came out. </div>
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Seemed like as good a time as any to do a little reorganizing here too. This is how it goes for me. There is always something that grabs my organizing attention. </div>
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This pot is part of a set gifted to us by my parents for our wedding 9 years ago. I prefer non-stick or cast iron pans but the three pots get daily use and still look and work great. I'll probably have these forever. I love them.</div>
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No bath, no matter the duration, is complete without toys. Animals are his favorite. Orcas, the non-whale whale, have had top-billing for the past few months but whales in general (or animals with <i>whale</i> in their name) play a prominent role in all bath times. It started with the whale shark 2 years ago and has been steady ever since. </div>
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He loves his baths: short, get-clean ones; long play baths; and everything in-between. He doesn't necessarily like the get-clean portion of the bath. It is one more thing we are handing over responsibility on. He definitely likes the rinsing off part. Usually it involves diving but waterfalls factor in occasionally, too. </div>
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Our master bedroom is a work-in-progress. I'm pretty happy with the direction it's going, especially when it is picked up and put together. It has a tropical-ish vibe which appeals to my desire for color and Reagan's preference for calm neutrals. Still working out the wall decorations. I might have that figured out by the time we move next summer. Maybe. </div>
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The exercise wrapped up early. Reagan made it home around 5:30 pm, in time to rest a bit while Aidan finished his bath. I like it when he takes a breather. He works hard at his job and for our family. These fleeting moments are well-deserved.<br />
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With Reagan home in time for dinner, we reverted back to our usual Aidan/Daddy bedtime routine. While they were upstairs working through the steps, I stayed downstairs to continue cooking and cleaning. At one point during the routine Aidan, attempting to stall, exclaimed to Reagan: "You used to love it when we would play when I was young." I love how relative things are for a 4.5 year-old. </div>
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Finally discovered what <a href="http://nomnompaleo.com/post/5695132949/zucchini-spaghetti-zoodles-meatballs" target="_blank">zoodles</a> are all about. My first go was too salty but I was otherwise pleasantly surprised. I'll be making them again, with a few modifications the next time. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In other news, which only my mom is likely to appreciate, I f</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">inally threw away the pajama pants that have been with me since my pregnancy. Multiple holes and shredded hems finally convinced me but I had a little moment before releasing them into the trash can. Those pajama pants have been through a lot with me these past 5.5 years. :-(</span></span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-30867912274457404232015-08-19T23:29:00.002-10:002015-08-19T23:29:41.844-10:00Week in the Life 2015 | Tuesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Tuesday | August 18, 2015</div>
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I'm awake but I refuse to open my eyes. Thank goodness for my eye mask (yes, it looks like a mini bra) which keeps the morning light at bay. We still haven't figured out a way to hang curtains in our room with our furniture configuration so it's eye masks to the rescue for both of us. I'm tired. Really tired. Late nights and early mornings don't mix well for me anymore. It's easier for me when Reagan is home, on his regular schedule, or all the way gone. I have a terrible time getting to sleep on the nights when he just works late. My brain knows he's coming home and doesn't seem to be able to shut-off until he does. </div>
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It's 6:30 now. There is a pile of work waiting for me downstairs but I ignore that in favor of grabbing the iPad and scrolling through Week in the Life (WITL) blog posts that appeared overnight, starting with <a href="http://www.aliedwards.com/" target="_blank">Ali Edwards</a>. Reagan is awake and reading next to me. It's nice to have some quiet time with him while we are both conscious.</div>
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The first thing I do every morning when I come downstairs. Our house doesn't have great light during most of the day so I try to enjoy it while I've got it. </div>
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7:04 am: Time to stop reading and get on with the day. On school days, Tuesday and Thursday for this week but switching to Tuesday-Friday beginning next week, Aidan gets a gentle wake-up around 7 am. For both schools, Honolulu Children's Discovery Center and the Kailua co-op, we have to leave our house around 8:05 to get to where we need to be on time. Aidan takes some time to get rolling in the morning. Trial and error has shown it is better to wake him up earlier and let him come-to gently rather than let him sleep longer and then race him through the morning routine.<br />
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He is unusually perky again this morning, popping downstairs right away, ready to help with chores after a morning mama snuggle but before eating breakfast. Aidan and I water the plants while Reagan makes breakfast. The boys are having eggs and bacon (hold the yolk for Aidan). This is Reagan's go-to breakfast on mornings when he has a little extra time. I'm not hungry yet. I'm also suffering from indecision. Nothing sounds particularly tasty this morning. I hold off on eating for a while until inspiration hits. In the meantime, I pour a glass of iced soy milk with a splash of the Tazo Chai Tea blend. It's like a coffee house date but on the cheap and not nearly as sweet. </div>
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Cilantro, day 2. Currently sporting some decoration of the picked flower variety. </div>
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Some days he wants to use the hose, some days he wants to use his watering can. </div>
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Today is a watering can day. </div>
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I currently have greek basil, thai basil, and sweet basil growing in the garden. I gave up deadheading the flowers ages ago. I don't notice a significant change in taste and the bees LOVE all the flowers. </div>
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Limes! So excited to start picking them. </div>
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More a jungle than a garden at the moment but I love it!</div>
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"What's in our package, Mama?"</div>
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"<i>A new dustbuster!</i> Mama, we got a new <i>dustbuster</i>! Hooray!!" Indeed, we did. The old one served us well for 4 years but can no longer hold a charge. I actually felt a little sad throwing the old one away. It's seen us through a lot of messes over the years. </div>
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Aidan grabbed the bubble wrap and went to town. That used to be the end of play but now that he's had some experience walking dogs and picking up poop we have a new scenario to work through. "Mama, you be the dog, okay? Go poop, pretend poop, and I will pick it up." This said as he sticks his hand in one of the popped pockets and play 'scoops'. Crazy kid. </div>
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8 am: The morning music plays (National Anthem-plays every morning at 8 am on base). That's Aidan's cue that go-time is approaching. He suddenly realizes that he hasn't brushed his teeth or gotten dressed and starts scrambling around like a maniac. This is more like the little boy we are used to in the mornings. Reagan volunteered to take Aidan to school today so I pack Aidan's lunch while Reagan supervises the morning routine. Aidan requestes sunflower seeds, half a PB & J sandwich, and fruit (he gets a sliced pear-apple). I add water and a granola bar for his snack and then the boys are off, sort-of.<br />
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First we have to do the car seat shuffle. Aidan tries to get into his booster seat but, after being reminded that he can only ride in that for short trips, which this does not qualify for, he reluctantly sits down in his black car seat. He is perfectly capable of buckling himself in but doesn't always complete the task in a timely fashion. We have taken to playing a fun counting game to get him moving. I start counting slowly and he races to see if he can beat me. There is no set number and he usually asks for a counting reset several times during the process but he is always thrilled to be done buckling by the time I get to 3 or 4 (which is really like, 12, once resets are factored in) and the job gets done semi-quickly and without yelling. It works for now so we are sticking with it. Kisses and good wishes then the Subaru pushes back from the gate and we have lift-off.<br />
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8:15 am: I spend a brief moment contemplating my breakfast options again. Still not inspired or hungry, so I move on to the main task of the day: documenting. I'm lured down the Facebook rabbit hole briefly when I notice that a couple people have already commented on my post from yesterday (thanks, ladies!) plus, what's this? Jennifer Aniston is expecting her first child at 46? Nope, just kidding. It only takes me one click through to realize the tabloids got it wrong again. I would absolutely hate being a celebrity! I feel for them, especially the ones who aren't lunatics but continue to be hounded by the paparazzi anyway. Okay, 45 seconds wasted on that. Back to the task at hand.<br />
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I briefly consider being less prolific with my writing. I thoroughly enjoyed the WITL posts I read that were just pictures with a little blurb under each photo but, alas, that is just not my style. Maybe this is why I am so sporadic with writing. Enough time goes by that I forget that once I start writing, I have a really difficult time stopping. It can consume entire days if I let it. That might be helpful if I were writing a book but, currently, it is just the nonsense in my head pouring out onto paper (both real and electronic).<br />
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9:45 am: Starting to feel the pangs of hunger but still can't decide what to eat. Yeesh! Might be leftovers from last night. Those lettuce tacos were tasty. Reagan is upstairs cutting his hair (#1 all over) before showering and heading to work.<br />
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10:30 am: Finally got my breakfast. Tacos won. I can hear the washer churning away behind me. Reagan realized he was out of work shirts while getting ready for the day. The solution: he wore one that was minimally smelly and I started a load of laundry so he would have clean ones for tomorrow. Wasn't planning on this as a laundry day but such is life. Might as well just keep washing. Folding can happen...at some point. Probably Thursday night. That's how I roll.<br />
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Did some miscellaneous kitchen tasks while prepping my breakfast and found more things requiring my attention that shall be added to the to-do list. Now that I have the house to myself for a bit, I realize I neglected to take pictures of any of our getting ready routine. :( Maybe tomorrow.<br />
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11:15 am Time to get dressed and brush my teeth. My normal 5 minute routine prevails: throw on workout clothes, brush teeth, spray dry shampoo on my roots and put my hair up in a tucked ponytail, deodorant, face lotion, curl my eye lashes, put on blush, lip gloss, a swipe of gold eye shadow, and mascara. Done. I'm out the door at 11:36 am. That's a few minutes behind schedule but within the window of an on-time arrival.<br />
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Driving through downtown Honolulu to pick up Aidan from school. Aidan and I like to switch up our route to keep things interesting. There are beautiful buildings here. Some day I am going to drop Aidan off at school and then just wander around downtown admiring them. </div>
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The saddest sight I see every week. Oahu has a huge homeless population. This particular tent city goes on for 7-8 blocks and largely surrounds the Honolulu Children's Discovery Center. Driving through it 4 times a week makes my stomach turn. What must it be like to live here?</div>
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I arrive a few minutes early. I love Aidan's class and classroom. We are primarily homeschoolers but this monthly, themed STEM camp gives Aidan a larger social group (which he asked for), fun hands-on activities, and me some alone time. It's an all-around win. We will be continuing with it until we move. Also, Libby, in case you were wondering where your doppelganger resided, she's here, doing an awesome job teaching Aidan's class. ;) </div>
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The kids made seed houses two weeks ago. Each seed got water, a pillow to sleep on, and lots of sunlight. It's been fun watching Aidan's seed grow. </div>
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Bumblebee backpack this week (he likes to change it up), his lunchbox, and those awesome sparkly red crocs. I love this kid!</div>
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Pretty soon Aidan will be too old for me to post these kinds of pictures. I've already eliminated any full frontals but the behind shots are staying for the time being. He can roll his eyes at me later. </div>
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Aidan loves to dress up so the theater area of the Discovery Center is a huge draw for him (we stayed to play for a while). So many outfits to choose from. The sound and music controls are a delight. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzCp5TIononezLRb8gw2kpDqHO36Woy12wfOpWwK8z-TK7jtcRttF0_3GyDs3hOjTyT2QhdjAQs9hKde5s3HQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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1 pm: Closing time for the Discovery Center. Time for Costco. I used to love going to Costco. Then we moved here. The closest/most convenient location happens to be the busiest Costco in the country. It is crazy no matter what time of day we go. Costco is something I survive now. Aidan and I always reward ourselves when we've made it through in one piece. Meltdowns don't even count here.<br />
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Aidan got a new dress-up outfit to replace this awesomeness (photo taken in April 2015)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84CUXR8Jekphl7BfmoR7E3USOhKphK3oKewHM1-vgCd353KpUNVk8aDJ0r5eGFxxqsq8GrkxsOPSf9kP3sYL4eqjAxefTYQcw4__sVThjQTXp6sm6O59buXIecyy7Bp1gVanOZ_Sae5Pn/s1600/IMG_4284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84CUXR8Jekphl7BfmoR7E3USOhKphK3oKewHM1-vgCd353KpUNVk8aDJ0r5eGFxxqsq8GrkxsOPSf9kP3sYL4eqjAxefTYQcw4__sVThjQTXp6sm6O59buXIecyy7Bp1gVanOZ_Sae5Pn/s320/IMG_4284.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
because he and his friends have all outgrown the Power Rangers suit. He doesn't give a hoot about superheros. He thinks the A on the Captain America outfit he just got stands for Aidan. None of the grown-ups in his life care to disabuse him of the notion.</div>
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He usually decides to stay in the cart during check out and then changes his mind at the most inconvenient time. </div>
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Usually we have to wait in much longer lines. What a treat. </div>
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We survived! A berry smoothie for Aidan and a latte freeze for me. Peace out, Costco. </div>
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We'll see you next week. </div>
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Home, sweet home. </div>
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Aidan opted for delayed quiet time again so after putting away the groceries and a little playtime at home, we headed to the pool. We arrived at 3:40 pm. </div>
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Lela was waiting for him.</div>
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Sara and Estelle. Part of the Onizuka BFF crew and directly related to Lela, so there's that. I have a hard time thinking of anything cuter than Estelle in her swim get-up and goggles. The picture doesn't do it justice but those who've seen it in person will understand. </div>
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I love this kind of light-play through dark, billowy clouds. Awesome!</div>
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Grabbing a few photos before jumping in...</div>
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...but wait, what's that? A potty accident has occurred and playtime is done. We depart at 3:54 pm. That's been a lovely 14 minutes at the pool. </div>
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After running back home to get my wallet, we fill up the tank. </div>
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Aidan is still pleading with me to take him back to the pool but we have the "accidents end playtime" rule for a reason. Aidan had been doing really well listening to his body's cues (following a strict enforcement of the aforementioned rule) but we've noticed a backward slide on that lately and we are putting the brakes on it before it gets out of hand again.</div>
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I was really proud of myself for the way I handled the whole situation. I stayed calm, remained firm, and validated his feelings. When we got home I gave him a big hug and suggested that when he was ready, we could come up with different choices for the next time. He choked out an: "Okay," before going back to pleading. I honestly thought this was going to end in me lecturing him later but, no. He totally floored me by popping into the kitchen an hour later and spontaneously role-playing alternate situations with carrot slices. He figured out the solution on his own. </div>
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Aidan loves to check the mailbox. He's not quite tall enough to reach it yet so I lift him up to insert the key. His attention is short. He decided picking kukui nuts from the tree was more fun. </div>
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4:30 pm Aidan runs off to play with James, a new neighbor. I take a look around the house and let out a deep sigh at the mess that's accumulated, again. I start in on the dishes and the piles before turning my attention to cooking another meal.<br />
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5:45 pm: Aidan eats his untouched sandwich from lunch, a slice of special cheese pizza, and a pile of broccoli for dinner. I keep slogging through laundry and cooking duty while he eats.<br />
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At 6:30 the timer starts for bedtime routine. He hams it up a bit in the mirror when he notices me taking pictures. One of these days I am going to make him that routine chart I keep thinking about. Really. I swear it. One of these days....</div>
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6:57 pm: I am back downstairs, having finished reading <i>The Fat Cat Sat on the Mat</i> for Aidan along with my other Mama duties. He says he wants to go straight to sleep. Ok. We'll see.<br />
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My dinner consists of BBQ Chinese pork and roasted veggies. Once clean up is done, the remainder of my evening is spent cursing Blogger and researching other blogging options. It was <i>not</i> spent enjoying the process of WITL (or making headway on it) and that frustrates me. I want to share this project with others but not if it impedes my joy of doing it. Going to have to think this one through a bit more.<br />
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Reagan is late getting home. After midnight, in fact. That's nice. I get to wish him a happy 35th birthday 12 minutes into the day. I turn the iPad off (broke my own rule because I was so keyed-up about the blog issue), cuddle up to my handsome, no longer younger-in-number husband, and go to sleep. During the night, I dream of laundry. <sigh></sigh><br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-13133727223079658442015-08-18T21:50:00.001-10:002015-08-19T13:16:12.180-10:00Week in the Life 2015 | Monday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I remember now why I didn't blog about Week in the Life during the prior years I participated: I spend so much time documenting with words and photos for the actual project that spending any extra time trying to format that content for a blog post seriously affects my sleeping hours. It also occurred to me that part of the reason I stopped blogging regularly is that Blogger (my current blog host) is a pain to use for posts requiring anything more than a very basic format. Finding a new blog host just moved way to the top of my to-do list. </span></div>
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<strike><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In the interest of my sanity (way too much time has been spent tonight messing with formatting issues) I'm posting just the photos from Monday (in Blogger's preferred linear format) which provide a decent visual story of the day. I'll work on other options for sharing the words and photos together later this week. </span></strike></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Monday | August 17, 2015</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My brain is racing. So much to do. So much to consider. Can't turn it down enough to fall back asleep so I am out of bed at 5:56 am. This is actually an hour later than yesterday and two hours later than the day before so I guess you could call it sleeping in. But not really. Every night, the same stack of stuff comes up stairs with me and every morning I collect it back up to take down again. The iPad and phone go on the charger at night. Sometimes the iPad doesn't need charging but I bring it up anyway because I always think there might be some dire case when I will want it/need it but not want to go downstairs to get it. There rarely is. I try not to read the iPad at night because I am really affected by the light output. It can easily delay my sleep by an hour or more. I don't seem to have the same problem with my Kindle Paperwhite or my laptop (which hardly ever comes upstairs) so bedtime is reserved for reading Kindle books, paper books, magazines, or Montessori training materials. I'm a complete sucker for a good story, happily sacrificing all sleep and family duties when absorbed in one, so I try to avoid those kinds of reads unless I'm on vacation. Sometimes I miss my former life when it was not unusual for me to finish 2 or 3 books a week. Now I'm lucky if I can get through one a month. Anyway, I grab my water, my electronics and reading material for the day and head downstairs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I skipped my workout yesterday (too busy eating cookies, I think. Fail!) so it is first up on my to-do list. Shaun T and I are getting reacquainted during his new workout series: CIZE: The end of exercise. It is all dancing which really appealed to me as I find ways to be kind to my body again. I get my inner hip-hopper on (she needs some serious help) and then move along with my day. Reagan appears downstairs toward the end of my routine. He grabs his guitar and heads outside for a little morning practice. There is a work exercise (think war game) going on this week (last week too). He's now on the 11am to 11pm shift so our days are skewed from normal a bit. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNOcpGgNV5R9EKzoNC_gc0wDZXDKdjEio-5VRjIQyJIjjDJPmK2wai0goaI_oMZBiwDAu8HUn9nRveZ632kuPFNwvGO24FNfPafAPZ1-hEFgvmCA-nLp2OgKm6gdWOg1VQvQFe8xMNnNP/s1600/IMG_8723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNOcpGgNV5R9EKzoNC_gc0wDZXDKdjEio-5VRjIQyJIjjDJPmK2wai0goaI_oMZBiwDAu8HUn9nRveZ632kuPFNwvGO24FNfPafAPZ1-hEFgvmCA-nLp2OgKm6gdWOg1VQvQFe8xMNnNP/s640/IMG_8723.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After working out, I head to the kitchen to make another round of dinners. Trying to give Reagan lots of choices when preparing his to-go meals for the day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Aidan joins us shortly after 7. He is in a surprisingly good mood this morning, even voluntarily (happily!) crawling into his dad's lap for a morning cuddle after realizing I was still sweaty from my workout. Aidan dragged AJ down with him so there was some crocodile play before moving on with our morning. Aidan informed me that since AJ is 6 feet long and I am still only 5 ft tall, AJ was bigger than me. I tried to accept his omission of my final 2.5 inches with grace. When you fall into the short category, every little bit counts. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNafXvJxQMT3sWIvpKR2YnToLIWlL5x_F6vQwcuWymvnzgN5qY63B4hMj2wI6sCZs9bYueEglSzFv54ftkLSw5dYpvwIqreQXCg_BXBOwncPfCWGFjlzgqWnvZt6sRjlPCTwN6TAyMyRAv/s1600/IMG_8734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNafXvJxQMT3sWIvpKR2YnToLIWlL5x_F6vQwcuWymvnzgN5qY63B4hMj2wI6sCZs9bYueEglSzFv54ftkLSw5dYpvwIqreQXCg_BXBOwncPfCWGFjlzgqWnvZt6sRjlPCTwN6TAyMyRAv/s640/IMG_8734.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYebYvNzYlA9MXSxhbQhW4dblHE6jyD_lSiuGw2CgmGCYW0hy2Pd5TowMz7xxh4pB-uGGyxLptj_4aOCT2lu0FF1ZmFxyy4Y8fN4jQUPUyJepPDjZJpxAD0VSUDcl8u-WyNgzrYsDxxlQM/s1600/IMG_8742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYebYvNzYlA9MXSxhbQhW4dblHE6jyD_lSiuGw2CgmGCYW0hy2Pd5TowMz7xxh4pB-uGGyxLptj_4aOCT2lu0FF1ZmFxyy4Y8fN4jQUPUyJepPDjZJpxAD0VSUDcl8u-WyNgzrYsDxxlQM/s640/IMG_8742.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMan29th_6fWO3gD8tqUkSTb48aB-tC5OnHeb0P37UQCd3M5k_QRD0IbWbATHsMjBtcmBJzxjQ7tEPxqxciBjTM3JkMwd4m124pftZJGPT7Eu8mMrRYuv42PD9V44L7Q42lVar2sfnGY9R/s1600/IMG_8745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMan29th_6fWO3gD8tqUkSTb48aB-tC5OnHeb0P37UQCd3M5k_QRD0IbWbATHsMjBtcmBJzxjQ7tEPxqxciBjTM3JkMwd4m124pftZJGPT7Eu8mMrRYuv42PD9V44L7Q42lVar2sfnGY9R/s640/IMG_8745.jpg" width="425" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Zoned. We see this look a fair amount on either side of the day.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Y6bN98tKyMYN9a5R2GQEMY2y3H9unCjaZvIGVIWSK0I3FbF5DIxmJ-bz9qThl1YSSt8jFyNxARtoS1SjdhSNfh6bbFaPRrYsZ9qzuKfXJWW96a4dNYFT1LiwHIaOsJcNREYx-OtvgPxd/s1600/IMG_8748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Y6bN98tKyMYN9a5R2GQEMY2y3H9unCjaZvIGVIWSK0I3FbF5DIxmJ-bz9qThl1YSSt8jFyNxARtoS1SjdhSNfh6bbFaPRrYsZ9qzuKfXJWW96a4dNYFT1LiwHIaOsJcNREYx-OtvgPxd/s640/IMG_8748.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hamming it up for the camera. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZWOyErZwu7Otcvc5MXMzJcSw5J11bkXbDQINyLfhns22poixweCENBgJV8RHXRehQzvOjN8oMbgpJuNe0xfDcY6wVd3zQ87DHt-fpMLrPt2AtsR0ivCD6FFhsLD8jE-ehbx8UqQgZ8oeM/s1600/IMG_8751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZWOyErZwu7Otcvc5MXMzJcSw5J11bkXbDQINyLfhns22poixweCENBgJV8RHXRehQzvOjN8oMbgpJuNe0xfDcY6wVd3zQ87DHt-fpMLrPt2AtsR0ivCD6FFhsLD8jE-ehbx8UqQgZ8oeM/s640/IMG_8751.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLAx6cH8j-i2zSTdfWu_SYtY8ltF1uhHXh6ZoVgVphX2G11hxlkjFhXgCV94blNgmR3M9ixcLJvjfnCm_GlEpc4yYCsOU0zIP9eB8ImWNMm6sG4CQbcwCGJm24IDQkOH78Bem1SvuxVzA/s1600/IMG_8758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLAx6cH8j-i2zSTdfWu_SYtY8ltF1uhHXh6ZoVgVphX2G11hxlkjFhXgCV94blNgmR3M9ixcLJvjfnCm_GlEpc4yYCsOU0zIP9eB8ImWNMm6sG4CQbcwCGJm24IDQkOH78Bem1SvuxVzA/s640/IMG_8758.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">AJ sustained an injury that required emergency surgery. Both the crocodile and his keeper were troopers throughout the process.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixa7TxpwKbBnqWXO2C7RxZOPWWdwhR03ZDD67k2TYtHruEIulPTKN7G8-z1dx1aXeVTetKp3Oj62v323YRD9NiAsMbpreIWZGuRNzLlGN1857lXl6FMxV6CXwSwKymnJChR9j3za1mlUKr/s1600/IMG_8767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixa7TxpwKbBnqWXO2C7RxZOPWWdwhR03ZDD67k2TYtHruEIulPTKN7G8-z1dx1aXeVTetKp3Oj62v323YRD9NiAsMbpreIWZGuRNzLlGN1857lXl6FMxV6CXwSwKymnJChR9j3za1mlUKr/s640/IMG_8767.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Trash and recycling day. Aidan helped me wheel the bins to the curb. I love it when he thinks helping is fun even if it involves wrangling smelly, unwieldy bins down the driveway. One thing I will NOT miss about Hawaii is the weekly maggot fest in our trash can. So gross! Just makes my skin crawl thinking about it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At 7:30 Aidan decided he'd waited as long as he could to find out if Lela was awake and available to play. With my subtle nod, he was out the door in a heartbeat, racing down the well-trodden stretch of grass between our house and hers. Reagan took that opportunity to get his own workout in while I continued on with my cooking and organizing tasks. I spent a ridiculous amount of time searching for a spice blend that I once had but apparently got rid of before deciding to just make the blend from scratch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lela and Aidan enjoy playing many things, but pretending to be pregnant with babies is a perennial favorite. They were just about to give birth when I went upstairs to give them the clean up warning. I love how specific they are with the details. Birth location, dates, and times have all been discussed and decided, gender negotiated, and names considered. These two just get each other. I sincerely hope Aidan finds another soul mate when we move. Lela's absence is going to leave a big hole in his life and heart. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWct_Hv5z5v_E6iaGO9wopfhGmkJP5ut_X_-vYGKiW1cZkVDIIUmVOEJoiGLk1XHNlz5KXpdCjPN4WRSw8LZDy4KNUljSJoy4_3ySP93pQD7HeSKi7Z47MB4sgnKaODf8lxX0K8L7LP5cV/s1600/IMG_8778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWct_Hv5z5v_E6iaGO9wopfhGmkJP5ut_X_-vYGKiW1cZkVDIIUmVOEJoiGLk1XHNlz5KXpdCjPN4WRSw8LZDy4KNUljSJoy4_3ySP93pQD7HeSKi7Z47MB4sgnKaODf8lxX0K8L7LP5cV/s640/IMG_8778.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With Lela returning home, Aidan jumped at the chance for playtime with daddy. I took the opportunity to shower, a feat not often accomplished in the morning these days. My usual go-tos are dry shampoo spray and really good deodorant before dashing off to whatever morning activity we have that day. While getting dressed, I took the time to appreciate my new wardrobe. My old one was getting pretty stale and worn. It's nice to have new colors and choices greet me each time I get dressed in non-workout clothes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I peeked in on Reagan and Aidan playing. They were involved in some game which required them to make the bedroom dark and go to sleep for a nano-second before waking up to ____ fill-in-the-blank. Reagan does such a great job of getting into Aidan's pretend world. I love watching the two of them together. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81-ASQeafQho9gDeKa3mlfpABWb7gGFFpHSAkdxPSzqnqNTznyZB2JUipuoXbd5gqmnu-Ld4Qq-iJGWGpA8ShyphenhyphenA_oLRZkb55n3EgYnxlbQVW3hjwFLG-pYlFX-qy8sOadtwdOCy2OtwFg/s1600/IMG_8784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81-ASQeafQho9gDeKa3mlfpABWb7gGFFpHSAkdxPSzqnqNTznyZB2JUipuoXbd5gqmnu-Ld4Qq-iJGWGpA8ShyphenhyphenA_oLRZkb55n3EgYnxlbQVW3hjwFLG-pYlFX-qy8sOadtwdOCy2OtwFg/s640/IMG_8784.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While Reagan got ready for his day, Aidan took up his vigil on the driveway, waiting for his friend Noah to appear for a scheduled playdate. Unfortunately, the arrival time was fluid so Aidan waited for almost an hour before finally agreeing to come inside for a bit. Once Reagan left, and I wrapped up my morning chores, I joined Aidan outside with water and a notebook and pen for each of us. He took that opportunity to start composing and singing music. The topic was entirely his choosing. I love this little ditty he came up with titled : The Number Show.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJvGOiWoy8RMDGSRSy5K2r1VZFKLIuEElzFztC0-VkoX0uSneHCInktteKpryTz_DbRt48pMRHpimC4Z41t6d_j_jKh87FJWg3cBUzQqgvKvibn0fWfMP5a5XWLfoUfaRQDC26OP-_5RK/s1600/IMG_8795+licence+covered.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJvGOiWoy8RMDGSRSy5K2r1VZFKLIuEElzFztC0-VkoX0uSneHCInktteKpryTz_DbRt48pMRHpimC4Z41t6d_j_jKh87FJWg3cBUzQqgvKvibn0fWfMP5a5XWLfoUfaRQDC26OP-_5RK/s640/IMG_8795+licence+covered.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I recorded the audio for this but am unclear how to upload it at the moment. The song is set to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse tv show's opening song. It's pretty awesome. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3egBxc6FUG0yXpJ0NzeJKCIMLgP-jy0yXTEj1YrSvUYtXZFgwBu_k5JeBxtyyYp7iiTIuilA0l0RW8S4lGWulFsTVKlv4NwTOCEasLFyYfDMIjWOXw-LndsTU1ILN5srtOfwoDo_h9sQW/s1600/IMG_8802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3egBxc6FUG0yXpJ0NzeJKCIMLgP-jy0yXTEj1YrSvUYtXZFgwBu_k5JeBxtyyYp7iiTIuilA0l0RW8S4lGWulFsTVKlv4NwTOCEasLFyYfDMIjWOXw-LndsTU1ILN5srtOfwoDo_h9sQW/s640/IMG_8802.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Trying to grow cilantro again. Day 1</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpV21QngvWMnB-d_RxstYUNP1jMydLKcSZyWac07Jcx9hmN5ERAwGLU_AX4XMi1nSl-GmIjtbe3pFT_vE03zlpcv4TQ_ijC5g42Y2DlZ1T0d8OeBoDkbbPmyx3_2gEVOQkId_ILYWuUTam/s1600/IMG_8806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpV21QngvWMnB-d_RxstYUNP1jMydLKcSZyWac07Jcx9hmN5ERAwGLU_AX4XMi1nSl-GmIjtbe3pFT_vE03zlpcv4TQ_ijC5g42Y2DlZ1T0d8OeBoDkbbPmyx3_2gEVOQkId_ILYWuUTam/s640/IMG_8806.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finished baking the rest of the cookie dough. We made one of my favorites, <a href="http://www.sweetlittlebluebird.com/2013/05/tried-true-tuesday-loaded-sweet-salty.html" target="_blank">Sweet and Salty cookies</a>, minus the caramel bits. So good!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Once Caryn and Noah arrived, Aidan and Noah got down to the business of playing while Caryn and I dug into co-op planning. I love partnering with her through this Montessori homeschooling journey. She and I balance each other very well and share a passion for the Montessori method of learning. Our newest joint project is embarking on online training for the elementary level students. With the kids in our co-op getting older, it is a whole new world for both of us to wrap our brains around. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhco91KG2EfMRq5nBnUcUQcUa_gvJB4AnF6Mdy2n-V3iNZGKO99QJR8TBSrvCPwSIAU4qHbVgJz2d_7JrkIgQZHuZoR18GjpWKPT6Aw9rFQ6sz17PVovd_evN5QBdMgv-BPgXuQJAEOy6Dk/s1600/IMG_8813.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhco91KG2EfMRq5nBnUcUQcUa_gvJB4AnF6Mdy2n-V3iNZGKO99QJR8TBSrvCPwSIAU4qHbVgJz2d_7JrkIgQZHuZoR18GjpWKPT6Aw9rFQ6sz17PVovd_evN5QBdMgv-BPgXuQJAEOy6Dk/s640/IMG_8813.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Caryn and Noah left just before 2 pm. Aidan finally decided he was hungry so he ate while I worked on cleaning up the kitchen. For his dining pleasure, he selected dinosaur oatmeal (a special treat) and edamame. Aidan's body can tolerate very small quantities of dairy these days, a fact he is eager to remind me of when there is something he really wants but I don't usually allow him to have, like dinosaur oatmeal. Most packaged oatmeal contains dry milk, not to mention crazy amounts of sugar. He asks for this oatmeal every time we go to the grocery store (he still loves all things dinosaurs). Last week was the first time I capitulated but only under the clear understanding that it was to be considered as a dessert treat, not a breakfast food. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Following food consumption, he announced that he needed a rest and was going upstairs. What? Self-imposed quiet time? That rarely happens around here. He asked for me to rotate his cash register back into his bedroom, which I was happy to do, but I did not anticipate what that would lead too. Aidan has shown an interest in money since our trip to WA/OR last month. On Sunday, we gave him the first installment of his allowance. He will be getting $3 a week: $1 to save, $1 to share, $1 to spend. Once the cash register was down from the closet, he started asking all kinds of questions about the value of coins, what made each of them different, why the amounts didn't correspond to the size in increasing progression, and how to operate the built-in seek and find quizzes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Aidan was so engaged with testing the weight of different objects, practicing coin values, and then applying that information to "shopping" his room. It was supposed to be quiet time, and I could have used the break, but it is hard for me to leave him when he is on a learning roll like that. In homeschooling, life really, I have to jump on the opportunities when they come. At 4:05 pm we made a deal: we could go to the splash pad and join Lela but he would have to go to bed early, completing quiet time before his sleep time, or, we could just stick with the regular routine of quiet time, a few minutes of play, dinner, bath, maybe a short walk, bed. He chose the first option so off we went. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKpO-N5fnT6wmQ84kFHlp9HveMQr-mAM3fjHs46FjhlLerB4GiB_CldQB76y2LxD2dJmWVPpuBT74y1DYr7CRU6qUwh2fRnM88L_lFEW_WEPNOQCPG2PAM1JsGWbTIaqd4ZqlFCxai8_i/s1600/IMG_8824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKpO-N5fnT6wmQ84kFHlp9HveMQr-mAM3fjHs46FjhlLerB4GiB_CldQB76y2LxD2dJmWVPpuBT74y1DYr7CRU6qUwh2fRnM88L_lFEW_WEPNOQCPG2PAM1JsGWbTIaqd4ZqlFCxai8_i/s640/IMG_8824.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cIMQXU2MiZv5sUnHqUai_4nuS-Kbn4QXJk3ehxrGgWaS6Yt-NyRUuhvVXGYPpILDYeqeeexS-0Qkyh0dFbf9vKszjhdo9GJks3UpiwWkzlGAt_nVJSXJaTpUlRar_BrU1g0WQRDEa_JQ/s1600/IMG_8820.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cIMQXU2MiZv5sUnHqUai_4nuS-Kbn4QXJk3ehxrGgWaS6Yt-NyRUuhvVXGYPpILDYeqeeexS-0Qkyh0dFbf9vKszjhdo9GJks3UpiwWkzlGAt_nVJSXJaTpUlRar_BrU1g0WQRDEa_JQ/s640/IMG_8820.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Aidan assumes the downward facing dog position for his check-wipe. We are trying to phase this out, encouraging him to take care of all his poop wiping needs on his own. He has the first swipe down. Wiping until he is clean is still a work-in-progress. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSVnevOg8_q5KbU5Sgi6pmix7jLihHzl8idYR6jabmZ1XX1fozHv5DUV-9Uafnl4UMHaPdBhj5N0858pIkJlkkA6ez5GFOybDNnQCk7MIi3NDkOOJflT5MatOex-isitbE6T-ygy2XHXd/s1600/IMG_8833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSVnevOg8_q5KbU5Sgi6pmix7jLihHzl8idYR6jabmZ1XX1fozHv5DUV-9Uafnl4UMHaPdBhj5N0858pIkJlkkA6ez5GFOybDNnQCk7MIi3NDkOOJflT5MatOex-isitbE6T-ygy2XHXd/s640/IMG_8833.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I often forget about the base splash pad but it is a great play option, especially since it allows me to multi-task. We always enjoy time with the Reillys. After a few reminders to not drink the water and keep shoes on, we had smooth sailing. Aidan chose to stay behind after the Reillys left, splashing through the water, slipping down the slides, and going on a flower hunt. The plumeria flowers are so tempting for him to pick. We have to remind him often that it is okay to take one but we need to leave the rest for other people to enjoy. He doesn't like that rule and often finds ways to grab 2 or 3 before we shut him down completely. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98garUAJkm5rrNuT3ZfP8GHgbB6q9V2ztoJN3NWjNQmRRyVSbgZ4evnNaHmM7na6iXH6-cZHe4g7W1u4pSVEht1glpVToZ-j1qKIY1dBVbYMIwihczlEAvEdqf25W9ux4Bf0tL5KYcdLG/s1600/2015-08-17+16.39.13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98garUAJkm5rrNuT3ZfP8GHgbB6q9V2ztoJN3NWjNQmRRyVSbgZ4evnNaHmM7na6iXH6-cZHe4g7W1u4pSVEht1glpVToZ-j1qKIY1dBVbYMIwihczlEAvEdqf25W9ux4Bf0tL5KYcdLG/s640/2015-08-17+16.39.13.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Pretending to be crocodiles. First you swim, then you bask. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEtjRNJsk_glQVOD5uX-cOOV5y-nNMglAeefEdID1YkVyRi8lhRXTdcRE0Szu0QMqDwSNRDEhihSS_aLU0r5DNTpBxunflbFRjkfyjKQv9lb8GFVsgHHswa0SKvGV88oAAP5Qh3AkK8pf/s1600/2015-08-17+17.11.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEtjRNJsk_glQVOD5uX-cOOV5y-nNMglAeefEdID1YkVyRi8lhRXTdcRE0Szu0QMqDwSNRDEhihSS_aLU0r5DNTpBxunflbFRjkfyjKQv9lb8GFVsgHHswa0SKvGV88oAAP5Qh3AkK8pf/s640/2015-08-17+17.11.25.jpg" width="480" /></a></span></div>
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A little rinsing off action after failure to make it to a tree in time. </div>
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Flowers from my baby.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPwn8As8E3WNLCx2qCK55zIg5_HDOS_pMT_mn2RjVY_zF9qL2qN4Q7-IZbRIW7jxIQ7etuRMiaV8YRO7mTm1RE22S5-3N1fBjs4HazxQ9CBSfa3K3Bk7fcu1QJdNmu7aueNArMtIhlkUr/s1600/2015-08-17+17.28.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPwn8As8E3WNLCx2qCK55zIg5_HDOS_pMT_mn2RjVY_zF9qL2qN4Q7-IZbRIW7jxIQ7etuRMiaV8YRO7mTm1RE22S5-3N1fBjs4HazxQ9CBSfa3K3Bk7fcu1QJdNmu7aueNArMtIhlkUr/s640/2015-08-17+17.28.19.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The extra playtime at the park meant only a few minutes of play with Lela once we got home. He's getting better about not throwing a complete fit when it is time to come in, especially once he is reminded that he has made a deal/promise of some kind. It's a big concept/task for a little person--reasoning through something and not immediately responding with a gut reaction. I can see he's trying and I'm proud of him for it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After swapping bbq sauce for a bell pepper with Sara, I finished making dinner--an easy task which involved slicing peppers and tomatoes and mixing up guacamole. I'm really digging having so much dinner prep out of the way already. I'm making a note to keep up this weekly batch prep going forward. Really frees up my afternoons. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Reagan has been encouraging a Paleo diet for some time now. Up until recently, I wasn't really interested. We already eat pretty healthy. I was happy to make some changes (mostly eliminated starchy sides) for him but nothing super drastic. Lately I've been having some weird health issues though, which I believe stem from prescribed drugs I've been taking, so I started looking for a way to reset my body without throwing more drugs at the problem. Research led me to the Whole30 program and by extension, the Paleo way of eating. I'm still reading up on the pros and cons so nothing has been fully eliminated yet but I have made more substantial changes in what we eat, really minimizing alcohol, grains, legumes, processed sugar, and refined oils. I am feeling better but it is hard to isolate the winning factor. At the same time I changed the food we eat, I also refocused on working out regularly, added a couple sessions of yoga to my week, and stopped taking anything except a multi-vitamin. I figure all those extra veggies can't hurt so, regardless of the root cause, the overall effect is a win. Also, the food is still delicious. And beautiful. Win-win. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Carnitas lettuce tacos</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Most nights, Reagan is in charge of Aidan's evening routine/bedtime. It gives them a chance to spend a little extra time together and it gives me a break. On nights when Reagan is gone, things look a bit different. Where Reagan will stay with Aidan the whole time, brushing teeth together, flossing, keeping him company during potty, washing, and putting on pajamas, I just set the routine timer and ask Aidan do as much as he can in the downstairs bathroom while I work on cleaning up the kitchen. I've already put in my quality time with Aidan for the day and have no desire to sit there and watch him dink around while he is supposed to be brushing his teeth. He is surprisingly efficient on our nights together. He still resists going upstairs by himself at night, even with all the lights turned on, but that is usually our only point of contention. We often have quite a bit of reading time before his 20 minutes of allocated nightly routine time are done and I still feel cuddly, instead of ticked about all his dilly-dallying. Most nights we use the watch Boppa gave him as our routine timer but on mama nights, a small kitchen timer keeps us on track. Aidan was super patient while I messed with the camera in order to get a shot of us so I read a book to him before I started the timer again as my way of saying thank you. When the timer goes off, we spend one minute cuddling with the lights off. Then it is kisses and hugs and good night wishes. Aidan likes to sleep with his door open and the hall light on. Reagan or I will turn it off when we go to bed, after checking in on the little man. Watching him sleep each night is one of my favorite parts of the day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Because we'd agreed earlier that down-time/quiet time would be tacked onto bedtime, tonight worked a little different. We finished with our regular routine just before 7. Aidan chose to spend the next 30 minutes reading (looking through books) so that involved multiple trips between his room and the reading corner in the hallway. It took a few increasingly stern reminders that quiet time involved being quiet and did not involve repeatedly calling down to mom for one thing or another. After realizing that the next infraction would result in all lights being turned off, he figured out a way to occupy himself.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One of his projects was to go through all his Hallmark recordable books and find the ones that need new batteries. I found a stack of four waiting for me at the top of the stairs when I went up at 7:30 to let him know it was time for sleep. He loves hearing people read to him and those books are great for bringing distant loved ones close. Tomorrow we are embarking on a book project together: we are going to read every single children's book we have and sort them into love it, like it, and meh piles. I figure if we do two a day, we might be finished by the time we move next summer. Aidan loves to read, and I love that about him, but we have reached critical mass for children's book storage. Time to purge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With Reagan at work until 11pm, my nights are ruled by pending projects. Once the dishes are clean, it is on to uploading photos from the day and typing up notes. I've recently rediscovered podcasts and often turn them on while cooking/cleaning up and leave them running until I reach a task which requires my full attention. I have a large variety of podcasts in my pool but right now I am most interested in the ones focusing on organizing, productivity, inspiring creativity, and creative entrepreneurial pursuits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Since a second baby doesn't seem to be in our future, I've been giving a lot more thought to what's next for me. As Aidan gets older, I'll have more time to pursue my interests and potentially a career, even if we continue homeschooling, but its been so long since my brain was in that mode that it is taking me a while to get the gears grinding and shifting again. I've got a vague inkling of what I want to do but the specifics are fuzzy and the details non-existent. I feel okay just letting the idea of a next <i>something</i> marinate for a bit but I do enjoy listening to experiences of individuals who have traveled this path before me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After deciding there was no way I would get a WITL post done before I my eyes shut of their own volition, I switched gears to formatting and selecting photos for a different post. I made a commitment to myself (and the 11 people still checking in on my blog) to post something today and so I shall. The "Right Now" write-up from June seems like the clear winner since it is semi-current and in the style of WITL, detail-wise. I think my blogging really fell off when Windows Live Writer stopped being updated. It was such an easy way to write and publish blog posts. The native screen for Blogger stinks. I'd clearly forgotten about that because I spent a good amount of time swearing at it in my head while trying to get today's post compiled. Might be time to bite the bullet and switch to Wordpress if I am serious about stepping back into blogging. One more (a couple more, really) thing to add to my ever-expanding next action lists on Evernote (I'm all about the <a href="http://gettingthingsdone.com/fivesteps/">GTD method</a> these days). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tried to go to bed semi-early but that didn't work out. I think Aidan has a special tuner set to spike when I come upstairs. About a minute after stepping into my bedroom he cried out for me. His water bottle was empty. <sigh> I thought he'd gone back to sleep but shortly after I nodded off, he came running into my bedroom, distraught, and crawled into bed with me. When Reagan made it home shortly after that, our queen-sized bed got a little squishy. Aidan finally decided sleeping in our bed was not the best option and relocated back to his room. </sigh></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ah...space, darkness, and peace. Let the sleep come.</span></div>
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-16872544953902017622015-08-17T22:24:00.000-10:002015-08-17T22:24:28.493-10:00 Right Now | Aidan (June 2015)Good news! Week in the Life started today, as planned. I had a great day taking photos and jotting down notes. Unfortunately for you, I am not blessed with the succinct, straight-to-the-point writing gene. I like to elaborate, to really tell the <i>whole</i> story, which is exactly what I have been doing at my computer for the past 2 hours. I'm not done with the writing portion and I haven't even started in on the 250 pictures I took today.<br />
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So. I'll keep plugging away at that while you enjoy this little tidbit I compiled a couple months ago but never got around to posting. My bad.<br />
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I'll see you tomorrow with the short novel and supporting photos of how our day went today.<br />
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Cheers,<br />
S<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Right Now | Aidan, age 4.5 (June 2015)</span></b><br />
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Watching</b><span> </span><b>|</b> Very little TV. I took show privileges away about 2 months ago, except for special occasions, because Aidan was having trouble remembering that movies and shows are a want, not a need. When he does have the opportunity<span> </span><i>Dinosaur Train</i><span> </span>is still his go-to show. He's slow to adopt new movies but a recent family date night introduced him to<span> </span><i>Home</i>, the result of which is his very first joke, delivered in such a way that anyone with half a funny bone can appreciate it: Knock, knock. Who's there? Interrupting cow. Interrupting c {MOOOOOOO} ow... He loves interrupting people with whatever animal noise happens to apply to his current joke (although he doesn't always remember the interrupting part, which is equally entertaining too. Regardless, his animal noises are en-thu-si-astic!. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Reading \ </i>SO MUCH, via listening. Aidan is hooked on audio books. He will sit in his room and listen to them for hours. We currently have<span> </span><u>The Magic Tree House</u><span> </span>(Books 1-8) and<span> </span><u>Charlotte's Web</u><span> </span>checked out from the library. I had to renew them for another 3 weeks because Aidan wasn't ready to part with either yet. We started incorporating chapter books into our parent/Aidan reading time a few months back, with great success. Aidan and I are reading<span> </span><u>Charlotte's Web</u><span> </span>during quiet time, he and Reagan are reading<span> </span><u>The Adventures of Paddington Bear</u><span> </span>at bedtime. Still lots of picture book reading taking place too. We have to regularly purge books from around his bed because huge piles accumulate, seemingly overnight. The little man is on the cusp of figuring out reading on his own. I'm so excited for the world that awaits him when he does. </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Loving \</b> Lela. At 4-years-old, they interact like an old married couple. She trumps everyone, although MeiMei is still a close second. Aidan also loves dinosaurs, crocodiles (particularly the 6-ft stuffed one MeiMei and Boppa just added to his collection), whales, and really animals of any kind.<br />
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<strong><em>Wanting \</em></strong> Well, he wanted to be 4.5<span> </span><i>so badly,</i><span> </span>like all his other friends<i>, </i><span> </span>but, after reaching that milestone a few days ago, he immediately turned his attention to being 5. <sigh></sigh><br />
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<em style="font-weight: bold;">Eating \</em> He's still a hearty eater but he's definitely developed some quirks over the past 6 months or so. He loved eggs until one day he decided he only liked egg whites. He's perfectly happy to eat regular scrambled eggs as long as you tell him you used natural food coloring to make them yellow. If you mention there is yolk in the eggs, game over. Some days he will eat bread crusts, some days he won't. He started an annoying habit of announcing he doesn't like whatever I'm making for dinner before he even knows what it is. That's a hot button issue for me so we put the kebash on that immediately. A couple times he has taken his 3 courtesy bites at dinner, announced that the meal wasn't to his taste (which is our agreed upon family protocol), and then proceeded to make himself a PB & J sandwich instead. It's a new world for us.<br />
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<strong><em>Playing \</em></strong> Dinosaurs. Dress-up. Trains. Building (with blocks and magnetic tiles). Reenacting stories we've read (built a fair after we read about the one in Charlotte's Web). Loves being outside and can find endless activities to entertain himself.<br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Singing \</b> The planetarium show song: "Oh-oh-oh, what do you see when you look at the moon? Is it full and round? Do you see a balloon? Does it look like a cookie with a bite taken out? What do you see when you look at the moon?" He does a lot of listening (songs, audio books, conversations) but, otherwise, we have a bit of a lull in the singing department. He did rediscover the "Trucks" song (from his Alligator Crawl CD) a couple months ago when Reagan brought home a guitar from his deployment. I love listening to him sing that when the mood suits him.<br />
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<em style="font-weight: bold;">Asking \</em> About a little sister. He wants one, bad. He knows I miscarried earlier this year. It is both heartening and disconcerting to overhear his play and the matter-of-fact way in which he processes things: "You be the daddy horse and I'll be the mommy horse. Our last baby died in my tummy but we are going to try again." It is just part of his play with no apparent emotion tied to it, but he keeps pretty close tabs on our baby-making progress all the same. <br />
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<strong><em>Negotiating \</em></strong><i> </i>Riding a bike with 2 wheels while retaining the mental security of training wheels. Aidan is adamant that he needs his training wheels despite demonstrating on several occasions that he can ride a two-wheeler just fine. He told us he'd be ready to take the training wheels off when he was 10. We suggested that might be a problem since the next bike we buy him isn't going to have training wheels on it; he is going to look awfully silly riding down the street sporting 12" rims. In frustration with the impasse, Reagan, after drilling new holes, moved Aidan's training wheels even higher off the ground to see what effect that had. Much to our surprise, it worked. Aidan still wants his training wheels on but he immediately came up with a new "trick" of riding his bike so that neither of his training wheels touch the ground. He's 4, excuse me, 4.5, so, you know, he loooooves showing off his new trick to people. </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Wearing \</b> No undies. This boy likes life commando-style. Sometimes I insist on underwear but mostly it is not a battle I care to fight. Ironically, he decided to try sleeping in just his boxer briefs for a few nights. I'm not ready for that though. I still want to see a little boy decked out in stripes, giraffes, dinosaurs, or glow-in-the-dark space ships. Bring back the slipper pajamas ASAP.</div>
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<strong><em>Looking</em></strong> <b>|</b>Like a little boy. There is no more toddler left in him but thank goodness he's not all big boy yet either. I love the dimples in his little hands, the softness of his feet, and the way he snuggles up to me when his world is off-kilter. </div>
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<b><i>Creating</i><span> </span>|</b> Scenes from books we've read. Writing notes to Elsa, which he leaves by the front door. He is ecstatic when he finds a note gone, replaced by a letter from Elsa herself. He couldn't give two figs about Santa but Elsa, Elsa is<span> </span><i>magic</i>! Sounding out words and writing them down. </div>
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Some June highlights:</div>
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Camping in the backyard with daddy</div>
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Showing off his "trick"</div>
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Share day at human body camp (Honolulu Children's Discovery Center)</div>
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Watching his newly-adopted pet bug march across the sheet</div>
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Trying to figure out what kind of pet bug he'd adopted</div>
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Showing the face painter how big a T-Rex's teeth were so she could properly paint them on his face. </div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Meeting Nalala, the gorgosaurs currently in residence at the Bishop Museum</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-36789549997362640022015-08-15T08:47:00.001-10:002015-08-15T08:47:14.945-10:00Hello Blog! Remember me?It's been quiet around here. I'm okay with that. Life has been tripping along merrily and I've been chasing it, doing my best to keep up. Some days I write, most days I don't. Pictures happen frequently but that has its own ebb and flow too. I work in cycles, you know that. I always strive for balance but, as the long silence at this space can attest to, rarely manage it. Meh, it happens. I'm okay with that too.<br />
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<a href="http://aliedwards.com/projects/week-in-the-life" target="_blank">Week in the Life</a> is approaching though and you know what that means! Time to wake up! Dust off the cobwebs, roll out the coding, shake off the lazy daze. I'll be back on Monday night with the first entry for our 2015 Week in the Life. I've participated for the past 4 years but have never posted it to the blog. I'm going to take this chance to accomplish two goals at once (document AND share). If you need some reading material before then, here is a little blast from the past: <a href="http://www.reaganandsierra.blogspot.com/search/label/Day%20in%20the%20Life" target="_blank">Day in the Life (May 2012)</a>. My, how things have changed. I also blogged about our life, daily, during December 2012. For those posts, look <a href="http://reaganandsierra.blogspot.com/search/label/December%20Daily" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Aloha!<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-30505403807666253272014-10-04T13:15:00.001-10:002014-10-04T13:15:41.493-10:00Catching up with myself<p>On Monday, I will begin publishing quite a few posts that have somehow managed to live quietly on my computer for months, even years. I’ve apparently been writing far more than I’ve been publishing so, in an effort to bring the blog up-to-date before getting it printed in book format, anyone still paying attention to this online space gets to take a little trip down memory lane with me. Just a heads up on the randomness headed your way. Hugs!</p> <div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-80954038667296281272014-08-05T20:56:00.000-10:002014-10-05T09:10:30.869-10:00This is the Picture I Didn’t Take | August 2014<p>Charlotte, NC <p><strong>This is the picture I didn’t take |</strong> Anna, Bee, and Aidan playing, reenacting the <em>Three Little Pigs</em> story with Auntie Bean...over and over and over. Taking turns being the "woof", chasing each other around the kitchen, giggling hysterically, before returning to the couch where the next "howuse" was being built (using blankets). Aidan deciding he wanted to be a dinosaur (of course) and promptly inserting the role into the story. Pillows scattered everywhere but the couch. Everyone is pjs with mussy hair and huge smiles. <p><strong>This is the picture I didn’t take | </strong>Aidan, embracing the role of helper at bedtime: going potty right away and then, on his own initiative, emptying the little girls' potties into the big toilet, rinsing the bowls and replacing them; washing his hands; wiping his face and arms; putting toothpaste on all three toothbrushes; and making sure that each of the girls had what they needed to prepare for bed. <p><strong>This is the picture I didn’t take |</strong> Eating asparagus at dinner. C doesn't like the tops, Aidan does. Aidan ate the tops off of C's 4 pieces and handed over the stems before announcing the next 2 were all his. Aidan helping Anna decide that she did like "gus" and offering to eat her tops too. All of them eating way more asparagus together than they ever would have individually. The beauty of positive peer pressure (and helpful cousins). <p><strong>This is the picture I didn’t take |</strong> Walking with Bean. Talking and laughing then stopping suddenly to witness the awesomeness of lightening bugs floating through an evening sky. It has been years since I've seen them. I am immediately transported to the back door of our NC house, watching breathlessly through the screen while glowing bugs saturate the trees, like nature's Christmas lights. <p><strong>This is the picture I didn’t take |</strong> Girl time with Bean. Spending a good portion of our kid-free time on the floor of a toy store, digging through an open stock bin of Safari Ltd. Toob animals, searching for objects for the sound baskets. Continued bonding over our shared love of all things Montessori. </p> <div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-83146479681533939242014-05-01T21:16:00.000-10:002015-09-29T11:00:13.577-10:00Right Now | Aidan (May 2014)<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-RuzDQntf-ic/U2NIRkKs4QI/AAAAAAAAXPw/PwgVHVZIAmA/s1600-h/20140404IMG_5731%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="20140404IMG_5731" border="0" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ai8T8t1v_Wc/U2NISVv6AZI/AAAAAAAAXP4/4nNPvkUJGPA/20140404IMG_5731_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="370" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="20140404IMG_5731" width="545" /></a></em></strong></span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><em><strong>Watching </strong>Dinosaur Train, Wild Kratts, Frozen, </em>and<em> Walking with Dinosaurs</em></span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Loving</em> </strong>Dada. Mama is still pretty cool but Dada has the added benefit of being a boy. "Two boys, Mama! Two boys and one girl. Dada and me are going to play upstairs. You stay down here by yourself."</span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Wanting</em></strong> to be taller, faster, bigger, and 4. "When I'm 4 I'll be able to..." </span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Eating</em> </strong>baked dairy! Hooray, we are making headway on the allergy front. </span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Playing</em></strong> with magnetic tiles, dinosaurs, wild animal figurines, and in the water table. His sharks, hippo, and platypus are getting lots of love these days. </span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Singing</em> </strong>a lot. Little ditties he learns at school. Random passages/thoughts he makes into songs. Nonsensical words sung in familiar tunes. In the car he wants to listen to "songs I can sing". That usually involves the Charlie Hope CD and 50 Silly Songs. Song #8 on Disc 1, "She Sailed Away", is his current favorite. He just can't get enough of the crocodile eating the lady. </span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Asking</em> </strong>Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Ugh! We are working on making his questions a little more specific.</span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><em><strong>Negotiating</strong> </em>bedtime, number of stories read, playtime (when, where, and for how long), dessert...pretty much anything he thinks has any wiggle room. </span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Wearing</em> </strong>at least one article of clothing backwards on any given day. He likes it that way. :)</span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>Looking</em></strong> taller. And older. And less blonde. There is less baby and more boy every day.</span> <br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-37818979790668518472014-03-18T21:11:00.000-10:002014-10-05T09:12:21.237-10:00Around Here | March 2014<p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-HvgWT0KKvyU/VDGQ-alD2YI/AAAAAAAAXv4/OvVy3sKKjKk/s1600-h/20140313IMG_5075%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="20140313IMG_5075" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20140313IMG_5075" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-9PhibpUCEZY/VDGQ_GJcszI/AAAAAAAAXwA/gRX5GULezec/20140313IMG_5075_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="495" height="338"></a> </p> <p>Around here | We’ve been studying the life cycle of butterflies. Some caterpillars took up residence on my Cara Cara orange tree. By the time I noticed them they were a vibrant green, too beautiful to kill. My orange tree hasn’t done a thing since I planted it 7 months ago so I figured feeding future butterflies was as good a use as any for the leaves. We started with 4 caterpillars; one disappeared, one made it to the cocoon phase and then shriveled, the other two are quietly working their transformative magic. If I have seen this process before, I have no memory of it. I’m fascinated. I check on the pupas several times a days.</p> <p>Around here | Aidan still calls headphones “ear muffs”. I find myself doing it too.</p> <p>Around here | It is spring break. Reagan took the week off, I minimized my calendar, Aidan thinks he should get non-stop videos all day, every day. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-YGxn2t-EuPY/VDGQ_95QfnI/AAAAAAAAXwI/b9A9u37kH9U/s1600-h/20140318DSC02700%25255B10%25255D.jpg"><img title="20140318DSC02700" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: 0px" border="0" alt="20140318DSC02700" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ZdbQLvLjTd8/VDGRAWinmVI/AAAAAAAAXwQ/_jfFMzn3evg/20140318DSC02700_thumb%25255B8%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" align="left" height="188"></a> <a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-X-nHJQQp9-I/VDGRBBjlCiI/AAAAAAAAXwY/OiK3gMioNE8/s1600-h/20140318DSC02720%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img title="20140318DSC02720" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20140318DSC02720" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-LfkFC6ccusE/VDGRBtXoZ0I/AAAAAAAAXwg/1seLvle1QBY/20140318DSC02720_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184"></a> <a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-fg2mVA-yu-o/VDGRCU2sPVI/AAAAAAAAXwo/knp9JQu1fYE/s1600-h/20140318DSC02742%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="20140318DSC02742" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20140318DSC02742" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Ikl20bPSDWM/VDGRC43aa-I/AAAAAAAAXww/IhxN-QaEoUU/20140318DSC02742_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="255" height="199"></a> <a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-336Nx-4jgOM/VDGRDrujYfI/AAAAAAAAXw4/3GQpJToOOLs/s1600-h/20140318DSC02753%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img title="20140318DSC02753" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20140318DSC02753" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-tiKJJkMNsHY/VDGREMuHW2I/AAAAAAAAXxA/OH0v7rZMDxY/20140318DSC02753_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184"></a> </p> <p>Around here | We are back to acting like tourists. Today’s stop was Tropical Farms Macadamia Nut Farm. Great tour! The area is used extensively for movie and TV show filming but our favorite former set was the building used as the Hukilau Café in <u>50 First Dates</u>, one of our favorite movies. </p> <p>Around here | We are getting ready to build raised garden beds. We are jumping on the bandwagon of growing our own food. </p> <p>Around here | The breeze has allowed for some long pants and sweater-wearing days. The temperature still shows as 73 but it feels like the low-60’s. I know sweltering days are coming so I am enjoying the cool ones while we have them. </p> <p>Around here | We are preparing for more visitors. Aidan is going to be inundated with big-girl cousins. Lauren is home for a few weeks. Shannon arrives for a visit on Friday. Larissa and Desiree fly in Sunday night (along with Cindy and Len). We are going to have a full house, over-flowing with laughter and fun. Aidan is beside himself with anticipation. </p> <p>Around here | I am back to drinking tea and doing it in the heirloom teacups I’ve moved around with me for years. It makes me smile every time I take a sip knowing these cups have been passed from one generation of strong women to the next. I feel wrapped in Macleod/Bachtel love and strength with every sip. </p> <p>Around here | I want to create things that are tangible. I love writing and photography but so much of that takes place in the digital realm. I want to physically experience the steps of bringing something from idea to fruition. To that end, I have been baking from scratch, rearranging the house, and even pulling out my sewing machine. </p> <p>Around here | I’ve decided to homeschool Aidan beginning next year. Many things led to that decision but now that the shock to my system has passed, I am energized by the idea. The majority of my reading time has been spent researching the how-tos and wherefores of the process. I know it can be a take-it-one-day/year-at-a-time kind of thing but the more I read, the more I feel, in a visceral way,that this is the right path for our family on a permanent basis. </p> <div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-74086819037634142882014-03-04T21:36:00.000-10:002014-10-04T15:59:54.940-10:00Half-baked Moo<p>(Originally written early-March 2014)</p> <p>Last week presented Aidan and I with one of our most traumatic moments as a mother-son duo. In the ongoing battle against his allergies, we were finally able to get a skin test done, confirming or clarifying some of my long-held suspicions, but not without many tears shed by both of us. </p> <p>Originally <a href="http://www.reaganandsierra.blogspot.com/2011/05/milk-it-does-not-do-our-little-boys.html" target="_blank">diagnosed with a dairy allergy</a> in May 2011, Aidan has been consuming a dairy-free diet for almost 3 years now. Although we’ve been able to keep a pretty good lid on dairy consumption over the years, he continues to be plagued by hives. At one point or another I’ve eliminated soy, orange and yellow veggies, cooked tomatoes, strawberries, whole wheat pasta, quinoa, peanuts, and Cheerios from his diet after an outbreak (or several) of hives post-consumption. I’d mostly resigned myself to a life of selective cooking, but a recent visit with an allergist changed all that. </p> <p>In a moment that rocked my world, the allergist hypothesized that, rather than being allergic to a bunch of different things, Aidan merely suffers from chronic hives. What? <em>Are you kidding me?</em> He went on to tell me that the blood test for allergies has an almost 50% false-positive result ratio so it was possible the milk thing was all just a bad joke. I was both elated and skeptical. I wanted to buy into the theory lock, stock, and barrel (visions of cheesy enchiladas and pizza night instantly started dancing through my head) but I’ve seen the results of accidental dairy exposure one too many times to be convinced it wasn’t the real deal. </p> <p>We scheduled a skin test to sort out the matter once and for all. That brings us to last Thursday when I found myself pinning Aidan’s body to mine while a technician covered my baby’s exposed little back with 23 injections. Aidan was pleading with me to protect him, sobbing, “Mama, make them stop hurting me. Please, Mama!”, crying hysterically and trying to thrash out. I could only bury my head in his neck while my hands clamped his shoulders down and my thighs anchored his hips to my stomach, knowing it would be worse if he moved. We sat in the test room this way for 15 minutes while the extracts battled with Aidan’s immune system: Aidan begging me to put his shirt back on and go home, me trying to bite back tears while simultaneously reassuring my tiny little boy that the hurting part was all done. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-lXzBHhOCNGI/VDCmFgJOHBI/AAAAAAAAXvg/Nww1szvcvdQ/s1600-h/2014022710.10.2513.jpg"><img title="2014-02-27 10.10.25" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: left; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 13px 0px 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="2014-02-27 10.10.25" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Ks0HrqjLfO8/VDCmGToh3uI/AAAAAAAAXvo/LR9IahHH--4/2014022710.10.25_thumb4.jpg?imgmax=800" width="284" align="left" height="370"></a></p> <p>The results, making themselves clear in the shape of swollen mounds around the injection sites, were interesting. The milk allergy was confirmed. No allergies were detected with other food items, reinforcing the doctor’s theory on chronic hives. And, in a crushing blow to Reagan’s appeal for a four-legged friend of the canine variety, Aidan is apparently allergic to dogs. That one caught me totally by surprise since I’ve suspected cats for years now. </p> <p>Nothing about allergies is straight-forward, particularly the food ones. In a true allergy (which Aidan has) each exposure to the trigger food will lead to a progressively worse reaction. Here’s the tricky part for us: Aidan’s reactions have become <em>less</em> severe recently (finally) allowing us a little flexibility in the food department. However, it is still an allergy and could reverse course at any time. Fortunately, almost everyone eventually outgrows a dairy allergy to some degree. Initially we hoped he would grow out of it by age 1, a good sign for a future life filled with ice cream and grilled cheese sandwiches, but with each passing birthday the pediatricians were less enthusiastic and more focused on coming up with a long-term plan for management. We had a turning point a few months ago though. I remembered talking with a woman whose son, several years after being diagnosed with a severe dairy allergy, was able to start eating small quantities of baked goods without a negative reaction. During the holiday baking season, I decided to do a similar test with Aidan. </p> <p>I started by giving him a piece of cookie, about the size of a quarter. No reaction. The next day, I did it again. No reaction. I wasn’t convinced. We’d been down that road before, thinking the allergy was getting better only to have it flare back to full strength within a couple instances of exposure. I did it again and again and again. Each time, no reaction. I tested other baked items. No reaction. And just like that, we were in business.<font size="2"> <font style="background-color: #ffff00"></font>My joy knew no bounds as I wa</font>tched him inhale a piece of cake at a friend’s birthday party last week without any concern at all. He is so used to having his “special” whatever that when presented with the opportunity to have what all the other kids were having, his eyes danced with glee and he literally hopped back to his seat bursting with merriment. Better than Christmas. </p> <p>Milk is still an issue. Ice cream, cheese, milk, yogurt, butter, and the like in their whole, unbaked state still cause instant hives and present a very real risk to Aidan’s health with continual exposure, but the prognosis is looking brighter. Since Aidan and I were already traumatized by the skin test, I agreed to a follow-up blood test to check the current severity and nuances of the dairy allergy (Aidan was NOT impressed). This will help us zero in on exactly what he can and can’t eat, and illuminate a path forward. We’ll have those results in a month or so. In the meantime, we are celebrating small victories (an unlikely classification for chronic hives) and keeping our fingers crossed for continued improvement on the allergy front.</p> <p>Oh, and Daddy has been assigned to shot duty for the foreseeable future. Mama’s out. </p> <div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-40868223302841264782014-02-13T12:48:00.001-10:002014-02-13T13:54:33.259-10:00Friends who make you happy<p>Friends of ours are moving away on Friday. While my first instinct in these situations is to cross my arms, dig in my heals, stick out my lower lip, and refuse to enable yet another departure of people we like and haven’t had nearly enough time with, the adult in me eventually regains control, offering assistance in whatever way I can provide it. </p> <p>This week that means lots of extra playtime for Aidan with his bestest of best friends, Charlotte. Her little brother will be joining us this afternoon as well, while Van, the harried mom who is one wrong look away from losing it (a PCS state of being I am all too familiar with), gets her house clean, suitcases organized, and finds a new place to stay after a surprise hotel cancellation left them sleeping on a borrowed air mattress in the middle of their empty house last night. </p> <p>I am well-practiced in the art of saying goodbye. I have to be with this highly-transient lifestyle. Sometimes, it isn’t goodbye so much as, <em>see you at another base somewhere down the line</em>, as is the case with several of my friends in Hawaii, originally met during different assignments. Mostly though, the personal relationships I develop are carried forward through Facebook, Christmas cards, and the occasional email or text, just checking in. </p> <p>As Aidan gets older, he is developing friendships on his own, outside of the playdates I set up for him with moms I like who happen to have kids his age. He established connections in Charlottesville that I’m still hearing about (Will the real “My Corey” please stand up?) but not necessarily local friends solely of his own choosing. Hawaii has been different. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-MTx9Cuj-UNY/Uv1L1fK5bAI/AAAAAAAAXNY/HdKEQ27mPOQ/s1600-h/20140212IMG_47127.jpg"><img title="20140212IMG_4712" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="20140212IMG_4712" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-460tfk2mIHM/Uv1L2B0YKdI/AAAAAAAAXNg/qMJ7o_Y5xzM/20140212IMG_4712_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="370" height="370"></a></p> <p>While riding to school earlier this week, Aidan announced, in a sad little voice from the backseat :<em> Mama, Charlotte moves on Friday. Mama, when Charlottes leaves I’m going to be sad. </em>I’d been expecting this and replied in my most sympathetic voice: <em>I know, Honey. It’s okay to sad. I’m going to be sad too. We can be sad together.</em> What I wasn’t expecting was his response: <em>Mama, I’m not going to have any friends ever again. </em></p> <p>And with that, the mundanity of our morning commute became a minefield to navigate, simultaneously trying to safely traverse the road while reassuring my 3-year-old son that life was not over. That there would be other friends, now and later. That different friends make us happy in different ways. That it is okay to be sad when parting with one friend, just as it is okay to delight in a new friendship made. </p> <p>I wanted, more than anything, to pull that car over and gather Aidan to me in the most giant of giant bear hugs. I would have too,if there had been a good place to do it. Instead, I had to wait seven agonizing minutes until we pulled into the school’s parking lot. Seven minutes that tore me up. Seven minutes during which I silently cursed the military, Reagan’s job, the general unfairness of life, the specific unfairness of Aidan suffering needlessly. I mourned the friends I’ve had to leave, wallowed in self-pity, cried a few tiny tears, wished things could be another way, and, then, looked around, first in accusation, then in wonder. </p> <p>We live in an amazing place, surround by friends and friends we have not met yet. We live here because of the military, because of Reagan’s job, because of the general unfairness of life. And while it is true neither Aidan or I will ever be able to point to someone and say, <em>I’ve spent my whole life growing up next to this friend</em>, what we lack in depth, we make up for in breadth. </p> <p>I am so thankful for the friends I’ve met and the ones I’ve yet to meet. I am thankful for this beautiful, challenging life we lead. I’m thankful that, even though Aidan is experiencing his first real loss with the departure of Charlotte, he has a mama who is uniquely qualified to help him with his grief. Whose arms and body are just the right size to wrap around him and tuck him in tight. Who can hold him, comfort him, kiss him, and, when he’s ready, will let him jump back down to the pavement to race off in search of his friends. And there they will be, different friends who make him happy in different ways, but friends all the same. </p> <div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262479100616942671.post-25778947563018490492013-12-28T21:27:00.000-10:002014-01-08T21:33:09.143-10:00A Little Boy Lives Here<p>It’s quiet. Aidan is in bed. Reagan is working at the desk. I stand up from the couch to take my empty mug into the kitchen tripping over a stray ball that has clearly wandered from its basket. Regaining my balance, I deposit my dish in the kitchen and move to the bathroom, my original goal for disrupting the exhaustion-induced coma I’d been enjoying a moment before. </p> <p>Still not fully aware of my surroundings, I am surprised when my hand encounters a small truck, lined up with precision along the corner of the stool, instead of the tissue I’d been searching for. I laugh. <em>Aidan. </em></p> <p>Even while he sleeps, his presence permeates the house. I stop to think about it for a minute, sighing, knowing that one day I will miss this. I will miss his littleness. I grab my camera and start walking. </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ3bl7ehV7hb1lMqK7rtOcUg1TbKZ5x1dAZY6gflcZgWU2Ngubw1gDGYR8MGsTTAOGAbeBiwqeWSv97tdS5TdQmKqu2Xeib0MLfpmdxaBQSfaZRfdelt_f2pwdbx2cfqbSkwhEwXQ2cKC/s1600-h/20131227IMG_38995.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3899" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3899" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Am4q8HxGr8o/Us5PwVlE5pI/AAAAAAAAXJ4/uLs1vfFq8DA/20131227IMG_3899_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="329" height="520"></a></p> <p>I find the multi-story airplane hanger Aidan and Grandpa Frank built earlier in the day. Matching planes—one little, one big—just like the two boys playing with them--are tucked inside. </p> <p>Farther beyond, the Christmas tree is still surrounded by wrapped presents, although on this eve of December 27 Christmas has already come and gone. Each present has been a delight for Aidan. He opens one and immediately starts using it. Suggestions to continue opening more presents are met with loud protests or flat out refusal. He just wants to enjoy what he has right now. We’ll make it through all of them eventually. I appreciate the generosity of family and friends but right now, in this moment, I am thankful that my son is so content to be. To play. To truly embrace a gift instead of glancing at it and tossing it aside for whatever is coming next. I imagine that Christmas will be a different story next year so I savor this for a moment and then continue my stroll. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-SjZBPSkUI84/Us5PwzULj3I/AAAAAAAAXKA/0MCm_ctDib0/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39013.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3901" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3901" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-KUmbLitk76g/Us5PxprZIgI/AAAAAAAAXKI/4I1jyhq5iTs/20131227IMG_3901_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="545" height="370"></a></p> <p>Piles have accumulated on the dining room table. Aidan’s yellow sun hat rests below the child-sized Santa hat he has been sporting off and on for the past few days. A bag full of tropical ocean figurines sits on the edge, abandoned there after a Skype call with the Baxters. Aidan was so excited that he and the girls all have fish and scuba divers now. </p> <p>Model dinosaurs join us for meals. A spot-on gift from Auntie Bean and Co., Aidan can’t get enough of Tyrannosaurus Rex roaring or Triceratops stomping (not pictured). Thanks to PBS’s <em>Dinosaur Train</em>, Aidan can list off an impressive number of dinosaurs and their notable features when he is in the mood to share such information with me. Which isn’t always. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Pl5fJ-4w3dA/Us5PyDflw6I/AAAAAAAAXKQ/EY5zuzJWogE/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39073.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3907" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3907" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-9Nmn923Ol8Q/Us5Pyz-UYQI/AAAAAAAAXKY/BG_qlxjswr4/20131227IMG_3907_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="545" height="370"></a></p> <p>Books are everywhere. He loves reading cuddled up on the couch most of all. The loft reading nook in his bedroom is a close second. He is showing all the signs of a budding reader. His interests are varied. Soon we will step into the magical world of chapter books. While I have encouraged a love of reading from the very beginning, my heart gets all pitter-pattery when I think of what literary adventures are coming next. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-s682VlqMNtA/Us5PzZQFw5I/AAAAAAAAXKg/zyCmggeB2BA/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39024.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3902" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3902" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-TQkxu55-pnI/Us5P0JTYUcI/AAAAAAAAXKk/8K_i2PtWLVs/20131227IMG_3902_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="339" height="236"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-mEKAdBb5vzs/Us5P0ygfmBI/AAAAAAAAXKw/o1ddrNoXuyQ/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39083.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3908" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3908" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-1JKGg77W-p8/Us5P1VQOUBI/AAAAAAAAXK4/gCt_Td0WDMU/20131227IMG_3908_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="253" height="370"></a> </p> <p>I find vehicles and musical instruments in the bathrooms. Objects no doubt carried in, clutched in a tiny hand, to be held while he goes potty or brushes his teeth, only to be abandoned when a more enticing distraction takes the reins. Sometimes they get cleaned up. Sometimes they sit there, little forgotten treasures, to be rediscovered later.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-1QLAHF0ZDG0/Us5P2BdbibI/AAAAAAAAXLA/fVXqO8KJARA/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39113.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3911" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3911" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ME4kux5nN3w/Us5P2kl1r3I/AAAAAAAAXLI/Yp_boxc2M9s/20131227IMG_3911_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="545" height="370"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Qgu7VTSbhvQ/Us5P3YTWhUI/AAAAAAAAXLQ/36PiNm5q6JM/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39123.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3912" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3912" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-7MJil-4MQ9o/Us5P4BS13-I/AAAAAAAAXLY/i09COjdaQoc/20131227IMG_3912_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="545" height="370"></a> </p> <p>Walking on, I find pieces of toys tucked into corners of the hallway and my bedroom. A Lego from an earlier project sits, waiting to be reunited with the rest of the set; a train track piece and a hammer, used together to help a stubborn piece set into place, also forgotten when the baskets were refilled. Some nights I am surprised by books or bath toys that have somehow migrated from their rightful places to the covers on my bed. Little treasures layered between sheets and blankets, no doubt during a boisterous game of hide-and-go-seek. It elicits a smile every time. A reminder that my son was here, playing, enjoying life, in a place he finds safe and comforting. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-RfPhGNmbAQ0/Us5P4p4pWcI/AAAAAAAAXLg/UHx8vPkHPhg/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39173.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3917" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3917" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-tL2ohMH-KIc/Us5P589BuWI/AAAAAAAAXLo/ZaZk8hb9YhM/20131227IMG_3917_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="545" height="369"></a> </p> <p>The candles on the bathtub ledge share space with wind-up water toys and other little boy bathing paraphernalia. He has his own bathtub but there is something magical about Mama and Daddy’s space. I wonder when he will be too big for us to take baths together. He is not aware of anatomy differences in any meaningful way yet. He enjoys making bubble beards, hanging foam letter ornaments on his make-believe Christmas tree, and motoring his submarine through the deep cave created by my or Reagan’s bent knees. He’s playful and lovable and happy. I love being happy with him.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-sXlm9-1MuC8/Us5P6W0_efI/AAAAAAAAXLw/pj03qM4TV5U/s1600-h/20131227IMG_39253.jpg"><img title="20131227IMG_3925" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="20131227IMG_3925" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-urJOvJHbVI8/Us5P7AXvcYI/AAAAAAAAXL4/k3nKtuj3M28/20131227IMG_3925_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="545" height="370"></a></p> <p>And then here, my final destination. A place I come to every night before retreating to my own bedroom. </p> <p>Aidan’s days are filled with imagination. His nights are too. The hallway light is on, his door open wide—our compromise in an ongoing challenge to get him to fall asleep on his own when he would rather cling to us claiming he is “sca-wood.” Mike and Sully, lovingly painted by Auntie Em, guard the entrance to his bed. An array of stuffed animals stand at the ready if he needs them. His bedtime books rest on the floor, waiting to be put away or paged through in the morning. </p> <p>And he sleeps. The deep, restful sleep of a contented, thoroughly exhausted child, recharging for another day of exploration. I can hear his little boy snores, muffled by the blanket, and see his long eyelashes resting gently against his sun-kissed cheeks. I end every day like this, standing or kneeling by his bed, just watching him sleep. No matter how hard the days has been or how ready I was for him to just-go-to-bed-already a few hours earlier, I am overcome by the urge to crawl in bed alongside him and snuggle in. To hold him tight, kiss his head, and just cherish these quiet moments, these crazy days. </p> <p>A little boy lives here. A little boy who is loved so very, very much. </p> <div class="blogger-post-footer">SJB</div>Sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00863391694681842098noreply@blogger.com5