tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40619333321879280322024-03-13T10:07:48.615-04:00Beautiful Life Made EasyMOM OF 6. WIFE. TEACHER.
Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.comBlogger287125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-17480107004301220752020-01-20T21:51:00.001-05:002020-01-20T22:09:22.630-05:00My parents have loved each other for 50 yrs...so we celebrated BIG time<br />
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It wasn't my idea.<br />
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Not mine at all. But hey--if you put an idea in my head, I'll roll with it.<br />
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So when my dad said he wanted to celebrate the fact that my mom and him started dating and fell in love this time 50yrs ago, I took it on.<br />
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A nice, simple dinner at a restaurant is what he had in mind. But this mama of baby twins had other plans. Because, anyone with one baby knows how hard it is to be at a restaurant with that nursing baby--let alone two of them...not to mention the 6 other little kids (my sisters included) who would be with us too. And 50 years together warranted way more than just a simple restaurant dinner. So I told him I'd take care of it, with no restaurant in the plans--but something even better.<br />
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So I stayed up late planning. I sent emails out trying to track down excellent musicians, went to millions of stores after the kids went to bed, made decor late into the night, baked cake layers while babies napped, practised little speeches with all of the kids on weekends, planned a meal I didn't have to cook myself and told everyone to show up at our house in their Sunday best.<br />
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Because, when two people meet and fall in love when they're teens, it's a pretty big accomplishment to still be in love and actually <i>like </i>each other 50 years later.<br />
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You see, my parents are the type of people that we all aspire to be. They adore each other, they adore their family, they always ALWAYS put their family first and they know and have taught us that love means <i>showing up</i>. So they show up for each other, they show up for special events, they show up when their kids need help, they show up with meals in arms, they show up to hold crying babies, they show up when their kids are overwhelmed or stressed out, they show up for no reason--they're just always there for all of us. And always there for each other.<br />
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So this celebration of 50yrs of loving each other wasn't just about the fact that they are an incredible couple who deserve all of the praise in the world--it was also a thank you from my sister and I (and our families) to them for all that they have done for us over the years. For the excellent example that they have given us in modelling what a great, healthy marriage looks like--for the years of dedication to their family and grandchildren, and for the unconditional love that they have given us our entire lives.<br />
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So in knowing nothing other than they were coming for dinner (and had to be all dolled up), mom and dad showed up that day--and walked into our house to the sound of musicians playing beautiful music right in front of them...and a million grand kids running into their open arms.<br />
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And as they continued into our house, they found a table full of memories wrapped in gold frames (since 50's colour is gold, says Google)...<br />
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and sitting there tempting all of the kids sat the cake I made wrapped in milk chocolate and the cookies that I wish I knew how to make myself.<br />
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And of course there was a little extra for my dad--a booklet full of pages and pages of memories, songs, movies and events from 1969...<br />
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and an adorable little sign that my sister made all about my parents love story.<br />
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And then, to top it off...a huge over sized photo of them on their wedding day--just for kicks.<br />
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Because, you see...it's not every day that you get to take a minute out of your busy life to celebrate people in big ways. So we made sure to do it right.<br />
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So the table was set all fancy...<br />
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and the kids got their own fancy table too, which they were thrilled about--complete with little plastic wine glasses for their juice.<br />
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And we spent the afternoon celebrating together.<br />
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Just our family.<br />
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Just a small affair, with a big heart.<br />
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Because these two deserve all of the praise and love in the world.<br />
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So we listened to beautiful music, and snacked on appetizers and treats...</div>
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while dancing into the evening...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uMFTrkX8YqI/XiUDvaMIeSI/AAAAAAAAnfk/m3rMl745dkMl3eOpxeBkNCcNYGFGCV-LgCKgBGAsYHg/s1600/MVIMG_20200118_173218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uMFTrkX8YqI/XiUDvaMIeSI/AAAAAAAAnfk/m3rMl745dkMl3eOpxeBkNCcNYGFGCV-LgCKgBGAsYHg/s640/MVIMG_20200118_173218.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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and decorating cookies to the sound of violins and cello's behind them.<br />
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And they ate a delicious dinner with pretty cloth napkins on their laps...just to be sure that they felt extra fancy and proper.<br />
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And we finished off the night with speeches from men in top hats, and a little performance from all of the kids, telling their Nana and Papa all of the reasons that they love them so much--which was pretty much the cutest thing ever.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cLix1TQvCB0/XiUDvUjwRnI/AAAAAAAAnfk/VYWx2Qi-pRc1AMiUaENf9v2Nllu-ya1FACKgBGAsYHg/s1600/IMG_20200118_171712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cLix1TQvCB0/XiUDvUjwRnI/AAAAAAAAnfk/VYWx2Qi-pRc1AMiUaENf9v2Nllu-ya1FACKgBGAsYHg/s640/IMG_20200118_171712.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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And presented them with a little gift from us all--a photo book including pictures from their 50yrs together and pictures and writing from each of the kids all about their beloved Nana and Papa. <br />
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And we celebrated until the sun went down and babies needed to be put into jammies...because celebrating such a huge milestone is utterly exhausting for two little babes. </div>
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So to our amazing parents--congratulations on 50 wonderful years together.<br />
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50 years since that first date when my 16yr old mom was swept off her feet by this tuxedo wearing, dapper guy in the top hat.<br />
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50 years of love, patience, joys, hardships, kids, memories, adventures and many adorable grand kids...you've been a pretty amazing couple to watch. We love you mom and dad and we are so grateful to you for your constant love, support and help over all of these years.<br />
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We love you both to the moon and back. </div>
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Love Erica (and us all) </div>
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xox </div>
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-31616632898853361622019-11-04T10:45:00.000-05:002019-11-04T17:04:34.097-05:00We traveled to Mexico with 6 kids--and lived to tell the tale <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I still can't believe we actually did it. </div>
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The plan was hatched long before <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/2019/07/our-twins-birth-story.html" target="_blank">these two tiny babies were born</a>. Long before the sleepless nights and utter exhaustion had set in. Long before <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/2019/07/from-nicu-to-home.html" target="_blank">NICU </a>stays, C-sections, paediatrician appointments and tandem nursing around the clock began. Long before finding out we had not one, but two babies with acid reflux, and where days filled up with diaper changes, rocking crying babies to sleep and keeping up with our four other kids. </div>
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Our plan to take our family to Mexico once the twins were born actually came to fruition a few weeks ago, and in my own mother's words..."It feels now like it was just a dream". </div>
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Six kids, all 8yrs old and under at the time. Twins who weren't even 12 weeks old yet. It was like the time we <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/search?q=dominican" target="_blank">took our 4 kids to Dominican</a> with a newborn--but you know, a million times more exhausting. </div>
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In the wise words of our paediatrician..."You're safe and fine to take the twins and everyone to Mexico, but I think you're crazy for wanting to try to". </div>
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Maybe he was a little bit right--but it didn't stop me one bit from trying.</div>
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It's hard to believe we were actually able to pull it off, to be honest. </div>
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I mean, the airport and air plane alone with that amount of little people could have put us all into a tizzy--and that's just getting us there. But with a TON of planning ahead of time, a lot of research into resorts and lots of snacks and prayers, we did it. </div>
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And I'm so glad that we did. </div>
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We invited our family to come along with us, and my parents and Terry's mom bravely agreed, knowing full well that laying by the pool with drinks in hand <i>actually relaxing </i>would not be on the menu. </div>
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But sun, sand and palm trees? Yup. </div>
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Lots of delicious food? Definitely.</div>
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Tons of swimming and fun? You bet. </div>
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Tired adults? For sure. </div>
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So we spent our days at all of the pools, swimming after all the kids, while scoping out the best shaded spots for the babies and all of us everywhere we went. </div>
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We took turns holding babies and sitting in this one particular spot by the pool that was completely and fully shaded, so the baby holder could at least have his/her feet in the water while snuggling babies and watching everyone splash around. </div>
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And we soaked up the fact that off-season travelling meant that we had many of the pools all to ourselves each morning...</div>
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and first dibs on all of the water slides each afternoon. </div>
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*insert picture of Terry on the slide graciously volunteering to take the big kids to the huge water slides each day so that Mya and Carter could have fun--thank you for the sacrifice. Thank you. </div>
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And we danced pool side to music each day...<br />
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and snuggled babies on the beach for two seconds until mom got too sandy to nurse, and we all left cranky and hot.<br />
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But the good news about the Mexican heat is that it was always remedied with cold drinks around every corner...</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lS6M07N2lc4/XaC6zXoRe5I/AAAAAAAAmBQ/sir-uKJgg_M7VFq-vXij_WLDdcy-Ysr8ACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_7486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lS6M07N2lc4/XaC6zXoRe5I/AAAAAAAAmBQ/sir-uKJgg_M7VFq-vXij_WLDdcy-Ysr8ACEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_7486.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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and kind bartenders who took care of our every request.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-deoa9URG5g4/XaC7SMS3xaI/AAAAAAAAmBg/4dXw38cw3FAlx9dP5pH5FgjN5Ly9uNvmgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_7526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-deoa9URG5g4/XaC7SMS3xaI/AAAAAAAAmBg/4dXw38cw3FAlx9dP5pH5FgjN5Ly9uNvmgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_7526.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ygjVusUBk-0/XaC6f1DV-XI/AAAAAAAAmAY/aE6zleVe6IQ8GkBDDANH2fBpeCR3wj1XgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_7469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ygjVusUBk-0/XaC6f1DV-XI/AAAAAAAAmAY/aE6zleVe6IQ8GkBDDANH2fBpeCR3wj1XgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_7469.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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But you know what I'll remember the most from this trip? The thing that I'll never forget above all, is the joy that I got to witness in others as they enjoyed our family.<br />
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I wasn't quite prepared for it, to be honest.<br />
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We could barely move from one spot to another without curious, loving strangers wanting to know all about the babies and our family. Millions of questions about how many kids we have, how old they all were, how we were managing this trip with all of them--and the most frequently asked question...are they all YOURS? We had people counting us as we walked by, snapping pictures of us on their phones and always offering a lending hand when our hands were full. We had groups of women swarming us at our dinner table, gushing over the kids and wanting to hold our babies. We had other vacationers coming up to us all day long, smiling ear to ear as they looked us over and cooed over the twins and kids. I had women pulling me aside in the pool asking me how I did it--how I was managing it all day to day at home and how I actually looked so happy doing it.<br />
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And my response was the same every single time...<br />
"I am SO happy doing it, the happiest I've ever been...and it's the hardest thing I've ever done".<br />
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Because that, my friends, is the absolute truth.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maL7ZtbJjrU/XaC7ZyPbeXI/AAAAAAAAmBs/ZnL3aWc9NIkY2mvYLqV1DpYOfwZRndsVwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_7536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maL7ZtbJjrU/XaC7ZyPbeXI/AAAAAAAAmBs/ZnL3aWc9NIkY2mvYLqV1DpYOfwZRndsVwCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_7536.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So I'll remember this trip for all of the fun and all of the laughs and all of the exhaustion...<br />
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for all of the experiences that our kids were given...<br />
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and for all of the love that our family gave to them.<br />
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I'll remember the day that our boy turned 7yrs old that week and breakfast turned into a birthday celebration... </div>
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followed up by drinks and presents at the sports bar, at this little 7yr olds request. </div>
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And I'll remember the look of pure joy as our kids ran along the beach and splashed in the waves...<br />
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because those experiences, those memories that we made...in the end, made it all worth it.<br />
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And I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat...well, maybe 4yrs from now :)<br />
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'Til next time, Mexico.<br />
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'Til next time.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-46344713852072751022019-07-29T15:47:00.001-04:002019-07-29T15:47:19.789-04:00From the NICU to home <br />
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It took me three entire nights once I got home from the hospital to finally stop feeling like I couldn't breathe.<br />
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I'd lay in bed with these two tiny beings beside me in their little bassinets and I felt like I couldn't catch my breath. My heart would race throughout the night and I remember feeling like I needed to get control of myself before starting to gasp for air. It was something I had never experienced before, but looking back on those first few days out of the hospital I know now that it was from those days and nights in the NICU and on the Paediatrics floor that I'll now never forget. I've since learned that there is something called NICU PTSD--I'm not sure if that's what I experienced, but I can tell you it was difficult, emotional, draining, stressful and hard. Really hard. </div>
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The series of events that unfolded during those days in the hospital all compounded one on top of the other, until my body and my mind began to not be able to take any more. The fears, the stress, the anxiety, the surgery, the recovery, the sleepless nights, the noises, the experiences and the longing to take my babies and run from this place that told me that they weren't okay--it was all just too much for one mama to take. </div>
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It's all a bit of a blurry dream at this point--the moment that they snuggled those sweet babies up to my neck right after they were born, then just moments later they told me they were taking them away--and they were gone. My breathing started to deepen and my heart started beating a second beat the moment I watched them being taken out of the room. Because no mother should have to watch her babies being taken away just moments after breathing them in for the first time.</div>
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I remember lying there on that operating bed, feeling the room begin to quickly empty as masked nurses and doctors shut the door behind them, trailing after our babies. It got quiet as the OB carefully stitched me up and as nurses fussed over my paralysed legs and body, wiping my stomach down and covering me up again. </div>
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They wheeled me into the recovery room as they watched carefully as the feeling in my body began to come back again and I was well enough to sit in a wheelchair. </div>
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I was dying to see our babies. Hours passed. I had no idea if they were okay. </div>
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I remember just willing my body to move the way that I wanted it to, convincing the nurse that I was beyond capable at this point of getting into a wheelchair and being wheeled down the hall to see them.</div>
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It felt like an eternity before I heard those blessed words "Do you want to go see your babies now?".</div>
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And that's when the true heart palpitations really began. </div>
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No one warns you about what you are about to see. No one prepares you. </div>
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So as I was wheeled in through those NICU doors, and turned the corner towards two incubators side by side in a darkened area of the NICU, I wasn't ready for what I was about to see. </div>
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Our two tiny babies, completely enveloped in cords, machines, tubes down their throats, tubes down their noses, breathing machines attached to their heads and cords everywhere.<br />
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I could barely breathe.<br />
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<i>You can't touch them</i>, we were told. <i>One is doing alright, but the other one is not.</i><br />
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My heart dropped right then and there.<br />
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What does that even mean?? Is he going to die? Is he going to be okay?<br />
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I stared at both of them, just willing them to feel me, to know that their mama was right there with them...through the plastic and cords and tubes and alarms going off--I wasn't going anywhere.<br />
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So Terry and I waited patiently at their bedsides, following doctors orders as we just peered in through the plastic at them--until finally the day came when they let us touch them.<br />
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Stretching our hands carefully through the holes on the sides of the incubators, we laid our hands on our babies for the first time--and hoped they knew it was us. <br />
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I remember that moment so vividly now--placing my hands on each of them and rubbing their tiny backs, telling them that we loved them. That Kleenex box on top of the incubator was placed there for me moments after tears began rolling down my cheeks as I told their NICU nurse how helpless and terrible I felt not being able to hold them, nurse them and care for them the way I have all of our other babies. The weight of guilt hit me hard and grief poured down my cheeks as Terry hugged me and that sweet nurse talked me down.<br />
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The NICU is a hard place to be in.<br />
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I stayed there and lived in the NICU with our babies the entire time that they were there. Struggling with the pull between being at home caring for our other four kids and knowing that I needed to stay to care for our babies. I wanted them to know that their mom was there, I didn't want to miss a moment of those first few days of their life.</div>
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So our family came to us--our sweet kids meeting their new brother and sister for the first time, trying to grasp what the NICU meant and why their mom had to be away and why their dad kept going back and forth from the hospital to home. Our parents and family kept us afloat during those hard days--bringing our kids to us, tucking them in at night, bringing food to the hospital and distracting 4yr olds who cried every time it was time to say goodbye to me again. </div>
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It was hard. </div>
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But through the tears and stress there were also moments of bliss--like the time that they finally let us hold our babies for the first time. Their tiny bodies skin-to-skin on us, cords everywhere, breathing machine loudly reminding us that they were still so <i>so </i>fragile. But it really was the best moment ever.<br />
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As the days turned into night and the sounds of alarms going off, machines beeping, nurses and doctors showing up in large groups every day to discuss our babies in front of us--the days began to blur into each other. But slowly but surely I began to watch as the nurses began stripping away one cord at a time, one tube at a time, one breathing machine at a time--until our babies began to look like they weren't as sick anymore. </div>
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"Their breathing is under control now, so we're now just going to have to wait until they're strong enough to breastfeed so we can remove their feeding tube", the nurses told me. "It will be weeks before they're able to feed properly since they're preemies. They likely won't go home until their due date--August 17th". </div>
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<i>"August?!"</i> I remember saying to her. "I just want to get them home. I don't want them in here for weeks on end". </div>
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And she looked at me like I had no idea what I was talking about. </div>
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Because I didn't. </div>
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So she left, that sweet nurse. And I got to work. </div>
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Determined to get these babies feeding, I sat with both of them for hours on end--singing to them as I encouraged them to feed, teaching them how to do it, helping them with every gulp, telling them that they could do it and reminding them that this was our ticket out of here--they just needed to eat. </div>
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I'll never forget the look on the nurses face when she came back the next day and saw me nursing Blake. The little boy who wasn't even breathing without help just a few days before, the little boy who I was told to not even bother trying to nurse yet since he simply wouldn't be capable of it. </div>
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She looked over my shoulder as he gulped away, latched perfectly, eyes closed enjoying the one thing that I knew I could do for him amidst all of the guilt of everything that I couldn't while in the NICU. </div>
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"Well, I guess you just proved me wrong young lady!" she said with a laugh. And I smiled quietly, and continued to show her how I had gotten Hailey to also now feed just as well. </div>
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We were moved down to the Pediatrics floor a couple of days later, knowing this would likely be our last night in the hospital. The NICU was bursting with sick babies at this point, and we were told our babies were doing so well that they could be transferred down while still being in the safety of nurses on the floor where sick children stay. </div>
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I thought it was a dream come true. I thought it was our ticket out of there. I thought it would be wonderful. So I remember taking this picture of the nurses wheeling our babies out of the place that reminded us how ill they really were--into a place where it would likely tell me that they were on their way home.</div>
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Little did I know that that one night on the PEDS floor would leave me gasping for air for the next three nights.<br />
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They set us up in a room directly beside a very sick little 2yr old girl. I glanced through the large glass door of her room as I walked by with our babies and noticed this tiny little child. With only patches of hair left on her sweet bald head, her face bloated from the cancer medication and her mother trying to sooth her into taking a nap in the over-sized metal hospital crib, my heart completely sank.<br />
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She was trailing an IV pole around beside her and there were a few toy blocks left on the bed that her mother slept in beside her.<br />
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I couldn't stop thinking about her.<br />
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The day quickly turned to night and the lights went out as I settled in beside our babies, nursing them to sleep.<br />
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Then it all began.<br />
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It was 9pm and I could see nurses in the hallway suiting up--covering their entire bodies in yellow gowns, placing clear plastic shields over their faces and tying up masks over their nose and mouths.<br />
<br />They looked intimidating and scary to an adult, let alone a child.<br />
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"No, no!" I heard her little 2yr old whimper when they opened her door. She knew they were coming for her. I could feel her anxiety and fear. She had experienced this likely many times before.<br />
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I froze, not knowing what to do.<br />
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Then it continued. She cried, that poor little girl. She cried, and screamed and with few words that a 2yr old even knows, all I heard was "Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie! Mama! Mama!".<br />
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And tears rolled down my cheeks along with her.<br />
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It didn't last long, as whatever procedure the nurses were doing they did it quickly. But it left me aching for this poor tiny child.<br />
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I laid back down, wiping my own tears away and I tried to go back to sleep--hoping the little girl was tucked into bed now too.<br />
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It was 11:00pm when I was woken up by the sounds of unbelievably loud alarms ringing out, and nurses yelling "Are you okay? Are you okay?" as they ran down the hall and swung open the door next to mine. I heard her tiny cries again. Her monitors were blaring, screaming for someone to help her. I didn't know why.<br />
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I felt paralyzed with anxiety. I didn't know what was happening. Her cries got louder, her screams began to fill up the entire floor and those gut-wrenching pleas for the nurses to "Stop! Stop! Ouchie, ouchie! No! Mama! Mama! " just about killed me.<br />
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I balled my eyes out, in my dark little room, praying for it all to stop for her.<br />
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I held my babies tightly, as my own tears dripped down onto their sleepy bodies and I just kept praying for her pain to end.<br />
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It was almost midnight by the time that her cries settled, the nurses had left and the lights went out again. I wanted the night to end. I willed daylight to come.<br />
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Then just when I thought it was all over, the clock read 1:00am, and the fire alarm in the hospital went off. Huge loud ringing sounds echoed through all of our rooms, and "Code Red!" could be heard over the loud speaker.<br />
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Patients started to open their doors, escaping into the hallway just as I was about to do the same--but just as I started to jump out of bed I heard nurses yelling loudly at people to "Get back into your rooms, this is a real fire alarm!".<br />
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Everything about that statement felt wrong.<br />
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We flee fire.<br />
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We run for our lives.<br />
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So getting back into our rooms, shutting the doors and waiting as the alarms ran out around us felt unbelievably wrong.<br />
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My heart was pounding as I grabbed my two tiny babies and started to work out scenarios in my mind as to how I was going to escape with both of them if the fire got too close. Panic was all that I felt at that moment. My heart, already racing from the cries of the little girl next door all night long, could barely take any more.<br />
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I don't even know what time it was when a nurse came into my room to check on us. The fire had been controlled, wherever it was in the hospital, and I had closed my eyes for only a few minutes, hoping to will the night to be over sooner.<br />
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So when I watched the sun creep into my room the next morning, I was thankful for a new day.<br />
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I packed our bags that next morning, being told that we were allowed to now take our babies home.<br />
I called Terry early that morning to tell him the good news and he said he'd be over to get us in a few minutes.<br />
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Our little Chloe had just turned 2yrs old the day before, and I had bought her an adorable baby doll complete with a bottle, soother and clothing to dress her in. I told Terry to bring it to the hospital. I knew if I could do nothing else for the little girl beside me, I could give her a brand new doll to ease a bit of the stress. I knew this little girl needed it more than my own. <br />
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I asked the nurses to please give it to her once we left the hospital--to just let her mom know that it was from someone who was thinking of them both. But as I followed Terry out of the room, breathing a sigh of relief that we were on our way home, the little girls door opened and a quiet sweet woman stopped me, tears in her eyes, and said "Thank you so much".<br />
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One mom to another.<br />
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"Take care" I said to her, as I caught a glimpse of that sweet little girl hugging her new doll on her bed.<br />
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I walked away and took a deep breath as I left the hospital that day...not knowing that my breath would never come back for the next 3 nights. Because feeling the pain of others is something that haunts you, even once your own pain has gone away.<br />
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So we're hugging these babes tight today...<br />
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because they're finally home. Safe and sound.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-78364992215396975202019-07-16T10:11:00.000-04:002019-07-16T11:21:03.004-04:00Our twins birth story<br />
I've been trying to put the pieces back together as I sit here with my fingers on the keys. The blurry, exhausting, amazing pieces of the puzzle of events that have happened over this past week. The days, nights, feelings and moments that make up the birth story of our twins. Because our babies are here, and it's hard to know how to even put it into words.<br />
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My chest is heavy as my fingers hit the keys at just the thought of trying to start--because these past few days have been filled with every emotion that you can ever imagine and I don't want to forget a minute of it, so I'll just start typing.<br />
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There were some signs of what was to come a few days before I went into labour. Painful cramping, nausea and just the feeling that something wasn't quite right led me to check my hospital bag, get the last minute things done at home and call on my family to warn them that something might be happening.<br />
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Then by Monday afternoon it all began.<br />
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Slight cramps led to stronger cramps, which led to me jumping in the car with my mom as my sister called Terry at work and told him to meet me at the hospital. Thoughts of my previous fast deliveries, where nurses were running me down the hallway, calling for OB's to get there in time and barely making it to a hospital bed all flooded through me as my mom sped down the road. Both babies were breech, so horrible thoughts of feet coming out first and not getting there in time overwhelmed me.<br />
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I told the nurses my previous birth stories when we got there. That these slight cramps would quickly turn aggressive and all of a sudden the babies would be born--quickly. No one ever really believes me though.<br />
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"You're only 2 centimeters dilated" one of the nurses said to me as she explained that they might just send me home and I could come back later if things progressed.<br />
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<i>You can send me home</i>, I thought in my head, <i>but there's not a chance that I'm leaving this hospital and having breech twins on my living room floor. </i>So I just kept smiling and told them that this is what always happens--by the time I got to 3 centimeters dilated last time, I had one more contraction and the baby's head was coming out in the hallway. So I'd rather stay put, <i>thank you very much.</i><br />
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Anxiety started creeping through my body as I realized time was passing, my contractions were getting stronger and closer together and there was still no mention of getting me prepped for a c-section. "We don't want to have to deliver 34 week old babies if we don't have to", they kept telling me. "We need them to stay put if they can".<br />
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I agreed, but I also knew otherwise. These babies were coming whether the doctors and nurses wanted them to or not.<br />
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It all gets a bit blurry at this point, but I remember starting to get sick and people rushing a k-basin to my chin as a violent contraction ripped through my body--and all of a sudden I was being wheeled down the hallway into a room where the OB was ready for me. He still wasn't convinced as he checked me and realized I was only 3 centimeters dilated at that point--until he watched as one aggressive contraction took hold of me, then another one right on top of it, and another one right on top again--and all of a sudden things moved quickly.<br />
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"Let's get her into the operating room!" I heard someone call out and I felt the locks on my bed being clicked open and I felt myself being rushed down the hallway. My eyes were closed as contractions tore through me, one on top of the other. No time to breathe. No time to think. No one spoke to me as a million hands grabbed every part of my body, quickly prepping me for surgery. I felt needles in my back as two nurses held my shoulders down, cool liquid being rubbed all over my stomach, my legs were being positioned, my arms placed on the arm rests beside me, masked people stood over me as the room quickly filled up with more people than I could even count. I lost sight of my body as they pulled the blue sheet up over my face. It felt like a dream. I could feel the panicked energy in the room and the speed at which they were prepping me.<br />
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Then I heard a concerned masked voice behind me "Do you not have a partner here with you?".<br />
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"Yes, my husband is waiting to be called in here", I said, not realizing that they had already started cutting into me and had forgotten about him.<br />
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I still remember the look in Terry's eyes as he entered the room. That moment when you walk into a room where your wife is lying on a table having surgery performed on her right there in front of you--already cut open, already in the midst of it. I don't think he was prepared.<br />
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"Just start taking pictures" I remember telling him. "I want to see them being born".<br />
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He looked at me like he might throw up.<br />
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"You can do it--you have to", I said.<br />
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I didn't want to miss it. I would have torn that blue sheet right down if I could have.<br />
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So that brave soul--he did it. He stood up and took all of the pictures that I could have ever asked for. The bloody, the gory, the amazing and the miraculous birth of our twins--all documented. Thank you Terry.<br />
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*trigger warning--bloody but beautiful pictures to come. Feet first and all.<br />
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I heard a tiny cry, then another one right after that--they were here.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0ZY7Y14zT6I/XS3ObNZi0YI/AAAAAAAAlSQ/uGy3pRZChFos46hED-jTUcHGFIAwI-8NgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_6247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0ZY7Y14zT6I/XS3ObNZi0YI/AAAAAAAAlSQ/uGy3pRZChFos46hED-jTUcHGFIAwI-8NgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_6247.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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One minute apart.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QPncMvtKjHE/XS3ObXnA6GI/AAAAAAAAlSM/sjkyxrgqWy4K6Bt8652if7EuP_uEgZg9QCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_6246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QPncMvtKjHE/XS3ObXnA6GI/AAAAAAAAlSM/sjkyxrgqWy4K6Bt8652if7EuP_uEgZg9QCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_6246.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I remember cranking my neck back so hard that it hurt, trying to get a glimpse of even one of them as both teams of nurses and doctors whisked the babies over to the warming beds and started working on them. I felt like I was outside of my body, watching this happen to someone else.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2PgYx_ltvwM/XS3O2LYjt8I/AAAAAAAAlSw/M7vVUBfddcQIqmus9xqejWTs5op4wZcugCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_6248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2PgYx_ltvwM/XS3O2LYjt8I/AAAAAAAAlSw/M7vVUBfddcQIqmus9xqejWTs5op4wZcugCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_6248.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Then suddenly it happened.<br />
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Two warm, tiny bodies were placed on my chest and I could hardly catch my breath.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K_Cpqo09kUU/XS3O6s2yEAI/AAAAAAAAlSk/sxSD-r2Rblc8v7eNrYR7O3v0jadTgO5ugCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_6257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K_Cpqo09kUU/XS3O6s2yEAI/AAAAAAAAlSk/sxSD-r2Rblc8v7eNrYR7O3v0jadTgO5ugCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_6257.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I had maybe 2 minutes with them before they were taken away to the NICU, but those 2 minutes were all wrapped up into a lifetime of waiting, hoping, praying, wishing for this miracle of twins. I couldn't believe it was actually happening.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t4jmxfBxXxc/XS3PAIW23lI/AAAAAAAAlSo/r4yBnpsfpJgydzrYqLNDiO31W9F2toyyQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_6260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t4jmxfBxXxc/XS3PAIW23lI/AAAAAAAAlSo/r4yBnpsfpJgydzrYqLNDiO31W9F2toyyQCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_6260.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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An absolute dream come true. Unbelievable.<br />
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So as I lay here with these tiny babies snuggled up next to me, I'm reminded that this isn't the end of their story--the birth was only the beginning of the roller coaster ride that we went on throughout our stay at the hospital. My heart is already racing with anxiety just thinking about trying to put down into words the days and nights that followed. So I'll stop here and just pace myself--remembering just that precious moment with those two warm bodies placed on me, because that is the memory that I want to hold onto the most.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-4071184504850701932019-03-08T21:55:00.002-05:002019-03-08T21:59:12.787-05:00Twin gender reveal--we finally found out! <br />
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I went in for a quick ultrasound today to check on the twins and came out with the most wonderful news ever. It was news that I thought we'd have to wait a few more weeks for. News that we have all been desperate to know. News that we have been dreaming of, regularly guessing and trying to be patient about. </div>
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Today was the day that we found out if the kids would be getting brothers or sisters, or one of each.</div>
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So I baked up the quickest cupcakes ever when I got home and carefully filled each cupcake with the appropriate colour icing (blue/pink) in order to share the secret news that I alone had kept for a few hours as I waited for everyone to get home. This moment that I had today lying on the ultrasound table was supposed to be Terry's and mine for another more intensive ultrasound coming up that he was going to come to. But this quick check-in ultrasound revealed to me the secret that I ultimately had to save for everyone for this moment tonight. </div>
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So with Baby A cupcakes in hand, everyone took a bite and PINK icing was inside. Baby A is a GIRL!! </div>
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And then, moments later after I handed out the Baby B cupcakes, everyone took a bite and BLUE icing met them, because another BOY is definitely needed to level out the estrogen in this family!! </div>
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We are thrilled beyond belief. So happy. So excited.<br />
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And although we would have been thrilled no matter what (two healthy babies please, is all that I have prayed for), we are so excited for these two to join our family. </div>
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Couldn't be happier.<br />
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If you want to see the (slightly blurry)--ugghh....videos of the moments everyone found out, click on the video links below. First one is for Baby A, second one for Baby B.<br />
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<a href="https://youtu.be/qgPj-1_ir6Q" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Baby A gender reveal video</a></div>
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<a href="https://youtu.be/K_ahJwB6vUs" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Baby B gender reveal video</a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div>
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Enjoy the start to March break everyone, and rest well. </div>
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Erica xo</div>
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-52530547035791708302018-12-19T20:30:00.001-05:002018-12-19T20:30:27.369-05:00Some big beautiful news after the bad <br />
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I feel like I need to start out by telling everyone to take a minute and take a deep breath...<br />
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because...<br />
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we just found out we're having TWINS!!<br />
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Those beautiful sacs..baby A and baby B showed up on my ultrasound on Monday and I just about jumped off of the table with excitement.</div>
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I was so nervous walking into that dark ultrasound room early Monday morning. I prayed that they wouldn't tell me that my baby didn't <a href="https://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/2018/12/an-suv-hit-me-head-onand-this-is-what-i.html" target="_blank">survive the accident</a>. I prayed that they wouldn't tell me that I had to go home and tell my family that another baby was now in Heaven. My palms were sweaty and I tried to control my breathing as I felt that cold jelly roll over my stomach. I arched my sore neck as far as I could to try to see the computer screen as the technician kept a solemn face and continued to click, click, click the keys in front of her. She didn't say a word. She didn't even blink as I continued to try to decipher the little grainy grey images flashing across the screen. My neck hurt, my body was hot, I couldn't catch my breath. I was waiting for the moment when she turned to me and said "I need to go get the doctor"--the worst words that any mother could ever hear while looking at an ultrasound. <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/2014/04/grief-stricken.html" target="_blank">I had heard those words before</a>, and left bawling. </div>
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Then, just when I knew I couldn't take the silence any longer, she spoke. She spoke the most beautiful words I have ever heard. </div>
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"Everything looks great. No evidence of any injury or impact from the accident. AND...although it's still early, I do see two sacs. You're going to have twins". </div>
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My heart stopped in that moment. Literally stopped. Then the tears immediately drained out of my eyes down my cheeks. </div>
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"This has honestly been my dream my whole life" I told her as I wiped the tears away. "I've always wanted twins. I can't believe you're telling me this right now. I can't even breath I'm so happy".</div>
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She smiled at me and chuckled..."I'm so glad that you're so happy about this news", she said. "To be honest, I've never had a mom of 4 be this excited about having twins". </div>
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"No, you have no idea---I'm elated" I told her. </div>
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I couldn't stop crying.</div>
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In that moment, I thought about the little Dream Board that I have hung up in my closet at home. A place where I cut out pictures of the dreams that Terry and I have together and goals for our future. A place for visualizing our future together and creating a space for big ideas that barely seem attainable. Right at the top centre has always been a picture of twins snuggled together. </div>
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Our reality truly feels completely unreal right now.</div>
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The doors closed behind me as I left the ultrasound building exhausted with excitement and shock. </div>
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I couldn't wait to tell my family. </div>
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Mya had said to me before I left for my ultrasound "Mommy, I really hope we get twins". She loves babies. She loves family. I just kissed her head and told her that we're just going to hope for a healthy pregnancy--knowing full well that the reality of becoming pregnant with twins again was slim to none. </div>
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So when the kids walked in the door and rushed to see the ultrasound picture, the news of twins was greeted with squeals, big hugs, jumping up and down and then Carter grabbed the ultrasound picture and tore out the front door and ran across the front lawn to my sisters house. He couldn't wait to tell his cousins. We then went to pick Sophia up from daycare and when we told her that there were two babies in my belly she immediately screamed and jumped up and down and clapped her hands in excitement. </div>
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Terry was at the hospital with the surgeon while I had the ultrasound since he broke his shoulder the other week (just to add some more excitement to our lives at this point). So I carefully avoided the details when he called just moments after I got home from getting the news. "Baby looks great", I said, "I'll tell you all about it when you get home", and I quickly got off the phone with him before he started asking more questions. I knew I wanted to tell him in person.</div>
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So when he walked in the door from work that day, he had four little people tackle him with the news. Flashing the ultrasound picture around in the air, they all jumped around with excitement. He laughed, then looked at me "Are you serious??" he said between kids jumping all around him. I nodded and smiled, then he just laughed and we all laughed and hugged each other. </div>
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So life is moving. Life is changing. My neck and shoulder are beginning to heal, I'm starting to feel better and my hand has already healed completely. Weekly physio and massage therapy is now my reality, but there is so much to look forward to now. So much to be grateful for. So much excitement and hope for the future. Such love for these two babies who are only just beginning to grow into this life of ours. </div>
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And although this wouldn't have been the way that we would have planned to tell the world--our pregnancy secret would still be our secret if this accident hadn't happened. The strangers on the street, the paramedics, my family, then my school all had to find out under the most unfortunate circumstances and way earlier than we would have ever planned. But here we are regardless, now thrilled and excited and also terrified and worried at the reality of <a href="https://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/2016/12/a-new-little-life-and-terrible-loss.html" target="_blank">losing twin babies like before</a>. </div>
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But for now we'll just take this time and enjoy it. Because our reality right now is all of a sudden looking a lot brighter. </div>
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Erica xo </div>
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Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-74977161980249391362018-12-11T20:06:00.000-05:002018-12-11T20:32:16.493-05:00An SUV hit me head-on...and this is what I know for sure<br />
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I still can't shake it. My breath is heavy even as I begin to type. This space of mine--this blog space that I have left empty for months now feels like a safe retreat. A space where I can release the fear, the anxiety, the what-if's...the trauma from Friday.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mrcQctSu3Nw/XA3PUp5kE0I/AAAAAAAAkb8/zA3nd74S6wwzVQ2ldCbh9kfEO7M6G9yMgCLcBGAs/s1600/20181207_170446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mrcQctSu3Nw/XA3PUp5kE0I/AAAAAAAAkb8/zA3nd74S6wwzVQ2ldCbh9kfEO7M6G9yMgCLcBGAs/s640/20181207_170446.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I can feel my chest tightening and tears are burning my eyes as I type, trying to process the reality of life right now. Being forced to feel the feelings with every hit of the keys that I have been trying to push down and manage in the midst of day to day life now.<br />
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It was chilly, with a cold wind hitting my face as I left school on Friday. I was on my way to pick up my babies from daycare--Chloe and Sophia, who were waiting for me, and my other two were going to be home soon from school. I drove quietly in an empty van full of car seats.<br />
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I wasn't even two minutes from my school when I pulled up to that intersection, as I do each and every day on my way home. The normalcy and routine of that moment waiting at the light brought about a sense of security that always comes from knowing what will happen next. But Friday was all of a sudden drastically different.<br />
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All of a sudden my normal, secure moment turned from routine to chaos, in only seconds.<br />
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I remember the sounds, the smells, the fear that I felt as if it happened only moments ago. The feeling of my body being thrown, my head banging the back of the headrest, burning on my hand, a huge gunshot sound, smoke, the sound of crushing metal...a huge hit, then spinning, spinning, spinning...wondering if it would stop and how. Then the second huge crash, head on into another car. Cracked windshield, burning, smoke in my lungs, panic, silence.<br />
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I remember the absolute terror of feeling like my van was about to start on fire and I needed to get out and away as fast as possible. The smell of smoke and chemicals surrounded me from the airbags going off and I reached for the door handle, body shaking, trying to get out.<br />
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I remember the feeling of the cold air down my back and my hand burning. I looked down to find blood on my hand and my neck and back were throbbing. I looked down to find liquid pouring from my van all over the road. The sloshing sounds that my boots made in the gas and oil as I tried to escape from what I thought was going to be a van exploding right in front of me. The world stopped in that moment. No one moved. Cars around me were frozen in time. The moment was shaken as I heard people start screaming--"Call 911!" "I can't get through!" "911 is busy! Just keep calling!" People started running towards me--women holding phones, screaming, panicked.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NwrVzaqZbcY/XA3PUYkNrRI/AAAAAAAAkb0/DWNpCMaKNZcr6P-pVWJR23M6QgLpBvHkwCLcBGAs/s1600/20181207_162931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NwrVzaqZbcY/XA3PUYkNrRI/AAAAAAAAkb0/DWNpCMaKNZcr6P-pVWJR23M6QgLpBvHkwCLcBGAs/s640/20181207_162931.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
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I walked straight towards the white car that was in front of my van, front bumper crushed, as two women emerged from their car.<br />
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"Are you okay?!" I screamed at them. My heart was pounding, the world was spinning, I didn't know where I was, I didn't know which direction to move. Absolute panic had come over me, with a sense of complete shock protecting my body.<br />
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The women came towards me "We're fine. Are you okay?!" they screamed back at me.<br />
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"I don't know", I remember saying. I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. My body was shivering, but full of heat. I didn't know how to get out of the middle of where I was--cars surrounded me and as I tried to gain some composure to figure out where the sidewalk was I felt an arm grab me and lead me away.<br />
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"It's going to be okay", she said to me in a panicked, but controlled voice. "He ran the red light and hit you hard, head-on".<br />
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I looked over to see a silver SUV, the front completely crushed and a young man kneeling down talking to an elderly man sitting in the front seat.<br />
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My heart stopped.<br />
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Was he okay? Was he dying? I saw him struggling to breathe. I rushed over to him.<br />
"Are you okay?" I gently said as I watched the younger man looking at his stomach.<br />
The older gentleman didn't answer. The young man said "I think he'll be okay--he's in shock and needs an ambulance. I'm an ER doctor--I was in that car over there when I saw the accident happen. I think he'll be just fine".<br />
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I remember saying out loud "God, please protect him. Please please just protect him" and the lady who had my arm pulled me off of the road onto the sidewalk.<br />
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She put her arms around me as I shook, and then all of a sudden people were everywhere. I just remember women and men were hugging me, asking me if I needed blankets, asking me where it hurt and telling me the exact sequence of events that they saw.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2OB1K4QjWE/XA3PVP66AkI/AAAAAAAAkcA/roISd4nYu4Yif9wfe5HnfT6MMJ5B72MuACLcBGAs/s1600/20181207_170513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2OB1K4QjWE/XA3PVP66AkI/AAAAAAAAkcA/roISd4nYu4Yif9wfe5HnfT6MMJ5B72MuACLcBGAs/s640/20181207_170513.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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The woman holding my arm started quickly explaining what she saw. "I saw it was your right of way and then all of a sudden I watched terrified as the SUV gunned it and accelerated right through the red light". Her eyes were huge and filling up with tears as she held me. She continued to tell me "I started screaming NO! NO! NO! as I sat in my car watching what I knew would be a terrible accident. I couldn't stop it. I'm so sorry.". I squeezed her, this stranger. Hugging her to ease her pain and mine.<br />
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"It all happened in slow motion", she continued. "I watched as your body was thrown around and you kept spinning and spinning.." then she stopped. I could tell she was going through her own trauma just re-living it in that moment herself. "I'm going to stay to tell the police what I saw".<br />
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The sirens were loud and the lights were bright as firetrucks, ambulances and police cars pulled up to the scene. More people came up and hugged me, telling me they were going to stay to tell the police what they saw. I was just worried about the man. Paramedics started putting the elderly man onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. My heart sank for him.<br />
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My fingers were frozen as I tried to get a grip of my phone to call Terry and my parents and sister. I could barely type in the numbers my hands were shaking so violently.<br />
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"Terry--I was in a horrible car accident. It's really awful" I heard myself say. I remember hearing him say "I'll leave work right now, I'll be right there". And I repeated those same horrible words that no parent ever wants to hear to my dad as he picked up the phone.<br />
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"Dad.."...I could barely get the words out.<br />
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"I'll be right there honey" is all I remember.<br />
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I remember the paramedics assessing me. Asking me a million questions. But all I kept saying was "I just found out last night that I'm pregnant"...and sobbing. Was my baby okay? That's all that I was worried about.<br />
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Tears flooded my face as this lovely paramedic tried to reassure me. Then just as quickly as I called him, my dad was beside me hugging me, holding me as the sirens and flashing lights surrounded us.<br />
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I cried tears of relief, comfort and fear all rolled into one as I sunk into him. He couldn't get through the rows and rows of stopped traffic, so my mom had dropped him off at the side of the road and he had run up the street to me.<br />
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"Sir, I just need to ask her a few more questions", the paramedic interrupted, "especially due to the pregnancy now".<br />
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I looked at my dad. She looked at him. I looked at her.<br />
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"Surprise, dad", I said, with a bit of a laugh. "We just found out last night".<br />
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He hugged me and the paramedic's eyes filled with tears " Oh now you're all just going to make me cry too..I'm sorry I didn't know that he didn't know". I didn't care. All I cared about was whether my baby survived.<br />
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I looked up to see Terry running through the flashing lights towards me. He looked pale, panicked and wide-eyed. He grabbed me and hugged me as I tried to reassure him.<br />
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The events of the evening became a bit of a blur after that. I remember a kind tow-truck driver helping me into his truck so that I could have a warm space to fill out all of my paper work. His kindness was something that I'll never forget.<br />
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I remember people coming up to me, strangers hugging me, telling me that they were going to stand in the cold with me for as long as it took so that they could tell the police their version of the SUV running the red light. They held my hands, these strangers, as I told them I was pregnant and so worried. They told me to trust God, they told me that everything would be okay. They told me that I would be okay. They wrapped me in their hope and warmth and kindness and I know that that is something that I will never forget. The kind paramedic who first got to me, her sweet, calm voice that left me feeling like I would be okay, like our baby would be okay. I'll never forget it. The way that those strangers held me, telling me that they couldn't believe I survived such a huge crash, will be forever in my memory as I try to process how I actually survived (how we all survived) such a tragic incident. <br />
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I look at these pictures now--of my van staring at the white car. I was originally facing the opposite direction when I was hit. And that gray SUV at the bottom of the picture. I hope that poor man is okay. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dT4QdKS8yE8/XA3PUplHr5I/AAAAAAAAkb4/36rLIAGYPMAbZWQc_EoK77nwFYeXwTWsgCLcBGAs/s1600/20181207_162633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dT4QdKS8yE8/XA3PUplHr5I/AAAAAAAAkb4/36rLIAGYPMAbZWQc_EoK77nwFYeXwTWsgCLcBGAs/s640/20181207_162633.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I think of him constantly. How is he doing? I hope he doesn't feel the obligation to live with this the rest of his life. He was 85yrs old. Maybe he panicked and hit the gas instead of the brake. Maybe he had a medical issue which left him slamming on the gas. We'll never know. But I do know that I plan to write him a letter to let him know that all will be well. I would never want him to feel the burden of such an accident. We'll all be okay eventually. The nights won't always be full of panic, anxiety and flashbacks, as they are right now. I won't always cry at the drop of a hat when I start thinking of it. My hand, neck and back will heal. We'll get a new van. New car seats. We'll keep monitoring baby to make sure that he/she is growing as intended and I'll pray that this pregnancy wasn't affected by this cold Friday afternoon.<br />
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The waiting is the torture. But we'll get there and trust that everything will work out exactly as it's supposed to. So as my days begin to fill up with ultrasounds, blood work, massage therapy, physio appointments, phone calls from insurance companies and visits to car dealerships, I'll just remind myself to breathe. And I'll believe what others have said--that the <a href="https://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/2014/04/grief-stricken.html" target="_blank">two baby angels</a> that <a href="https://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.com/2016/12/a-new-little-life-and-terrible-loss.html" target="_blank">we have in Heaven</a> were there with me on that fateful day, looking down on their mom--because walking away from an accident like this was nothing short of a miracle.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-78947701055226076572018-04-19T21:02:00.004-04:002018-04-19T21:07:02.850-04:00Baby cake for the baby obsessed girl <br />
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There just wasn't any other type of cake that I could have made for this girl.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uCMLFu1Plas/WtPu2SU6LQI/AAAAAAAAhDk/2AN7t3k9Dw8aKdktrObr24QQlg2CTVoIACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uCMLFu1Plas/WtPu2SU6LQI/AAAAAAAAhDk/2AN7t3k9Dw8aKdktrObr24QQlg2CTVoIACEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3171.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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This birthday girl, who just turned 3, is absolutely obsessed with babies.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Eba8sDWnc4/WtPyGmI5tRI/AAAAAAAAhGQ/Qrf0qBoeJCc7oBbYfaiUeEbXtTaEG6oJgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Eba8sDWnc4/WtPyGmI5tRI/AAAAAAAAhGQ/Qrf0qBoeJCc7oBbYfaiUeEbXtTaEG6oJgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3358.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So a baby doll birthday cake is exactly what she ordered.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yQcZxSWxwpE/WtPwKqc6BsI/AAAAAAAAhE0/FaNXeUP0hm8PQ7FEzIG9L7l2UknD4TC7ACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yQcZxSWxwpE/WtPwKqc6BsI/AAAAAAAAhE0/FaNXeUP0hm8PQ7FEzIG9L7l2UknD4TC7ACEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3198.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3XC-DpwV7QE/WtPu-xIm0WI/AAAAAAAAhDw/PK7n0zBejb0XkYgBcSgrBRKB3nd5aA1lgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3XC-DpwV7QE/WtPu-xIm0WI/AAAAAAAAhDw/PK7n0zBejb0XkYgBcSgrBRKB3nd5aA1lgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3177.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And a baby doll birthday cake is exactly what her mama made her.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z3Uo9gpkjvA/WtPx9oZFKxI/AAAAAAAAhGk/vAwmuucyPbcim8ii4iO0Ap-vQvDSogK1gCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z3Uo9gpkjvA/WtPx9oZFKxI/AAAAAAAAhGk/vAwmuucyPbcim8ii4iO0Ap-vQvDSogK1gCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3365.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ie89y_E6HYc/WtPx94qwluI/AAAAAAAAhGI/ZKgXYf6DgRQJgsJwfIm6YgJQBTCIf8U9wCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ie89y_E6HYc/WtPx94qwluI/AAAAAAAAhGI/ZKgXYf6DgRQJgsJwfIm6YgJQBTCIf8U9wCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3366.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So I searched high and low for the perfectly sized doll to fit into this little "bathtub" and finally walked out of the store with the cutest little baby, tiniest little rubber ducky and all of the visions of a baby in a bathtub rushing through my mind. </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m0mFLsiFr8s/WtPu2TAPsgI/AAAAAAAAhD0/7QGUBxeZSME_ahCGkk0Ti6JbzQ9FshWWACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m0mFLsiFr8s/WtPu2TAPsgI/AAAAAAAAhD0/7QGUBxeZSME_ahCGkk0Ti6JbzQ9FshWWACEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3170.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because Sophia is a little mama in the making (and an excellent one, at that). And she loves every minute of it.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rXFFWAK3eCQ/WtPvcwM-f_I/AAAAAAAAhEM/ja6_mKo5iC8jk6SxaZUrFfNt7f_h0f8OgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_2432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rXFFWAK3eCQ/WtPvcwM-f_I/AAAAAAAAhEM/ja6_mKo5iC8jk6SxaZUrFfNt7f_h0f8OgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_2432.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So we watch as she gently tucks her babies into bed, shushing them ever so quietly as she gently wraps the blankets around them. She sings them lullabies, reads them stories, tells them that she loves them, kisses their little heads and tiptoes out of the room. Playing out what she lives herself as she is tucked into bed each night.<br />
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And there isn't a day that goes by that I don't have to unclip baby dolls from Chloe's carseat before putting her in--because the reality is that having a real baby in our house means that Sophia's dolls all of a sudden get real-life experiences.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N02JPZW1O74/WtPv0igN32I/AAAAAAAAhE8/PRKPGbWtwUk1gn2bE6l1RrVFkUZHJwnlgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_2439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N02JPZW1O74/WtPv0igN32I/AAAAAAAAhE8/PRKPGbWtwUk1gn2bE6l1RrVFkUZHJwnlgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_2439.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So baby dolls get baths in our bathroom sink...<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ywG-xneI5Ys/WtPtv6nRbeI/AAAAAAAAhC0/8JUGPdlxy4IgVgFDkzM-9xUErVcsHlkWACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ywG-xneI5Ys/WtPtv6nRbeI/AAAAAAAAhC0/8JUGPdlxy4IgVgFDkzM-9xUErVcsHlkWACEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_3159.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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and get carried around in carriers....<br />
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and get loved on day in and day out by the girl who tells me all of the time that she wants to be a real mommy. </div>
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So we celebrated this little girl last weekend, as she turned three. We celebrated the three years that we have had with our little Sophia. Three years full of great times and hard times--great times when we would sit back and stare at this beautiful little soul who is so loving and kind. And hard times when we would remind ourselves that two and three year olds are so incredibly tiring in so many ways and that the hard parts are only passing phases that we'll all get through, we promise. Because that's just the reality of parenting.<br />
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So we celebrated these past three years with family all around her, handing her gifts, opening cards and watching her beam as we sang Happy Birthday to her over and over again. We watched as Mya and Carter handed her their picture that they made for her together, explaining every detail to her with pride. And we watched as she tore into gifts, ate her cake and basked in the glory of this day finally arriving.<br />
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And that morning? Well, she woke up to balloons at her chair, a pink tablecloth draped over the table, party plates and cups set out, party napkins and a Happy Birthday banner hung above her </div>
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head--because what I've learned about kids (or people in general) is that it takes such little effort (a few dollar store items that I always keep stocked in my basement) to make someone feel like this day is something absolutely special. So everyone always wakes up to decorations on their birthday--because isn't this just what life is all about? </div>
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So with a big sister who told us she wanted to make her breakfast that morning, I guided her through every moment--teaching her each step of the way and watching as she carefully created a breakfast especially for her little sister... </div>
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...which was quite delicious, I might add.<br />
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So happy birthday to our big 3yr old. The girl who I will always remember as being a mini-mommy, loving on her dolls as if they were her own--and loving on her own baby sister as if she was actually her real mama.<br />
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And just remember, when it gets tiring that those dolls sometimes just won't respond to all of your love the way that you want--you can always put your baby sister in a doll stroller and that's kinda hilariously entertaining too.<br />
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Just don't take your hand off of her, or her real mama will have a heart attack, okay?<br />
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Love you sweet Sophia. Love you forever. </div>
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Love your mama xo</div>
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Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-59512250548989379062018-04-03T16:49:00.001-04:002018-04-03T17:04:06.267-04:00Dear Single Mom with the help sign at Walmart <br />
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Dear Single Mom who was holding a "please help" sign outside of Walmart last night,<br />
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I saw you when I first pulled up late last night. It was dark outside, cold and close to 8pm. I was exhausted after a long, busy weekend, but I needed a few things, so grocery shopping was supposed to be a quick in and out experience for me.<br />
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But then I saw you. Holding that sign. Standing outside of the store alone. Your sign said "Single Mom with 3 kids. Please help. No money for food or rent".<br />
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And of course my heart sank.<br />
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My heart sank because I felt your stress. I felt your despair. I felt your desperation.<br />
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We might not all have the same struggles, but we all need to take care of each other regardless.<br />
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So I quickly went into to the store to finish my shopping and as the wind hit my face as I opened the doors to outside, I saw you there. I walked over to you and we locked eyes.<br />
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"Hi", I said to you. "My name is Erica. Is there anything I can do to help you? I'm a mom too. I'm sorry you're going through a hard time right now".<br />
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And we talked for a moment, as I asked you about your children and you told me that you had a four year old boy and two girls, ages eight and ten.<br />
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You had tears in your eyes. You looked so sad. You were shy and uncomfortable. I felt it.<br />
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You said that your mom was looking after your children right now and that you needed to take the bus home to get to them tonight.<br />
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I told you to wait and I went back inside the store, looking at my watch realizing that it was almost 9pm. My body ached, the exhaustion from the day had set in, but I walked down each aisle picking out food for you that I thought you would like. Food that I thought you could put in your children's lunch pails tomorrow. Cereal for the next morning, fruit, bread and bagels along with many other items that my own fridge is regularly stocked with.<br />
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I went to the till and the man at the cash register scanned each and every one of those items for me, and I handed over my bank card. It didn't matter to me how much it cost. You needed it. I could help.<br />
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Because we all need to help each other.<br />
<br />
So I pushed my cart out of the store and handed you several grocery bags full of food.<br />
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Your eyes filled with tears yet again. You thanked me over and over again. I smiled at you and told you to take care. I then pulled my hood up over my head as the cold wind blew down my back, and I left quickly for my car.<br />
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I noticed that you watched as I pulled away.<br />
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As I headed for the exit, I had a curious feeling. I wondered what you'd do next. I wondered where you'd go. Would you be okay?<br />
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So I did a quick u-turn and pulled my car around so I could see you.<br />
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In the dark of the night, I noticed another woman who approached you. You knew her. She was with you. But she wasn't at the door with you when you were there with your sign only moments before.<br />
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She had been at the other door, on the other side of the store.<br />
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That other lady tucked her body behind the large garbage bins sitting at the doors and pulled out several bags of groceries of her own. You had hidden my groceries behind those same garbage bins.<br />
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My heart started beating quickly.<br />
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You collected your bags, said something to her that I couldn't hear, and then walked off together with your arms full of groceries.<br />
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I realized that both of you were doing the same thing that night. Both of you were together. Both of you were on a mission together.<br />
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As I began to realize the reality of the situation, I could feel my breath getting shallow. I could feel my heart start to race.<br />
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And I turned into a flippin' ninja spy.<br />
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I all of a sudden started ducking into empty parking spots, following both of you as you made your way through the parking lot. Slowly inching my way, zig-zagging through the parking lot, making sure that you didn't see me, but following your every move.<br />
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You walked far away from the store, through several parking lots, making your way up to another row of cars where I could see you both stop and look around, searching for something.<br />
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Then, just as I inched my way over to where you had stopped, I saw a van blink it's lights a few times at you, and you both quickly opened the doors and climbed in.<br />
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I pulled up closer and peered inside the van to see two men sitting in the front seat.<br />
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NO FREAKIN' WAY.<br />
<br />
In a matter of minutes, seeing those two men with you, realizing that you were likely not a single mom at all, realizing that you were clearly not needing to get on a bus to get home to your children, I felt completely defeated.<br />
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Defeated because I believed you. Defeated because my faith in humanity was shaken. Defeated because a moment of trying to help out a fellow mama turned into a spy game which left me feeling sick to my stomach and exhausted.<br />
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Sick to my stomach because of course not everyone is truthful in this world, but I would like to think that MOST human beings are.<br />
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So I drove home, turning down the street as the street lights paved my way through the dark. I pulled into my driveway, and started pulling my grocery bags out of the car.<br />
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And of course as my heart was a wee big broken by what had just happened, I turned to walk up the driveway and my grocery bag broke and apples fell to the ground and started rolling down the dark driveway all over the place. So I ran to get them, bending over to grab speeding apples flying away from me, like a real life cartoon clip. It was ridiculous.<br />
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I gave up.<br />
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This day needed to be done.<br />
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"Your heart was in the right place" my husband told me as I re-told the entire story from start to finish.<br />
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But here is the thing, lady with the sign, you may have shaken my faith in humanity for a moment.<br />
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But it hasn't shaken it completely.<br />
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I wondered as I lay in bed last night what your life was really like at home. I bet you do have children. I don't doubt that. I bet you are struggling in some way--because isn't everyone? An elaborate act like this, that was clearly planned out, screams desperation to me--in some way or another. Maybe you really did need that food. Maybe you needed someone to show you a bit of love that day. Maybe those men in the van were your husbands and maybe they aren't treating you well. Maybe they forced you both to do what you did last night.<br />
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Or maybe not.<br />
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I'll never know.<br />
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But as I told my own children this story about you this morning before they went to school, I wanted to thank you. Because you see, I always always tell my kids that if you see someone in need, you help them. You think of others. You put yourself in others shoes. You care for people. You be the one that steps up and runs to grab the hand of the child being bullied. You be the one who picks up the friend or sibling who fell and scraped their knee. You be one who puts yourself out there to care for those around you.<br />
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So I'll keep telling them this. It won't stop me from that.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gHGD_o3VH7Q/WsPlGniEL0I/AAAAAAAAgvU/mm0HVAOdDO87kJvW1oWzWSEfAM0c_CalwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gHGD_o3VH7Q/WsPlGniEL0I/AAAAAAAAgvU/mm0HVAOdDO87kJvW1oWzWSEfAM0c_CalwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_3084.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_RNc-ghLPKM/WsPlYSZM6vI/AAAAAAAAgvY/la16ZowBOMsIIWe1Agli_f0XyD0VT6lbgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_RNc-ghLPKM/WsPlYSZM6vI/AAAAAAAAgvY/la16ZowBOMsIIWe1Agli_f0XyD0VT6lbgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_3092.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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But I'll also now remind them that sometimes they might get burnt. Sometimes they might fall into a situation where people are not honest, like you. But then you know what? I'll also remind them that even a lady like you is a human, and let's not villainize people for the poor choices they make. Because we're all human and we're all just trying our best to make sense of this life that we're given and turn it into something amazing.<br />
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So you're welcome for the groceries, lady from Walmart. I hope you enjoy them and I hope that life in the weeks and months ahead brings you to better things. I really do.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Sincerely, </span><br />
Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-14581294379364498022018-03-31T20:12:00.003-04:002018-03-31T20:12:59.363-04:00When the Easter bunny comes early...<br />
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This is what my living room floor looked like on a dark cold night last week when all of the kids were fast asleep. </div>
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Sorting and organizing almost 30 piles of treats for our neighbourhood kids...making sure that everyone ended up with the exact same items and the exact same amount.<br />
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Because today was the day when our neighbourhood friends arrived family-by-family to our court, and the kids searched high and low through everyone's yard until they found all of their treats.<br />
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I had prepared all of the candy into a scavenger hunt for the kids and we spent the morning furiously running around hiding hundreds of treats all over everyone's yards.<br />
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Then as the clock hit 10am this morning, crowds of people starting walking up our court...and the fun began.</div>
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So after collecting the kids to explain how the scavenger hunt was going to work, I handed each of them their papers and everyone was off.<br />
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Our court was all of a sudden a buzz of little people and older kids too running around desperately trying to find every single item on their page--searching in bushes, behind rocks, under trees, in planter boxes and all over the grass.<br />
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Searching until every single box on their sheet was checked off. Then proudly showing everyone their stash.<br />
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And as the buzz died down and the treats were finally all found, the kids sat to explore their baskets and nibble on treats and food from our snack tables...<br />
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because a basket full of treats on Easter weekend is exactly what the Easter bunny had in mind.<br />
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And Terry and I are now off to hide more eggs since the real Easter bunny arrives tonight and our house will all of a sudden be a buzz all over again tomorrow morning as Mini Eggs, foil wrappers and plastic eggs will be scattered about--and 4 little kids will be racing all over the house with excitement. <br />
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Thank you to our wonderful neighbour friends for a great morning and for all of your contributions and help! Childhood memories are in the making.<br />
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Happy Easter weekend everyone.<br />
Enjoy the chaos. Eat the chocolate.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-54072315421571800562018-03-26T21:32:00.003-04:002018-03-27T10:48:34.518-04:00Cheap and chic Easter vignettes<br />
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This just makes me so darn happy.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W8awnyaSQpM/Wrj23ahzQRI/AAAAAAAAgZk/sU3X0z0QOxQiToGvdyl_95aTo2_5Y2gqgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_2809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W8awnyaSQpM/Wrj23ahzQRI/AAAAAAAAgZk/sU3X0z0QOxQiToGvdyl_95aTo2_5Y2gqgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_2809.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Speckled eggs in a little tin pot. I mean, seriously. How cute is that?!<br />
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It gives me visions of my dream of owning lots of land, a barn and our kids running into the chicken coop to collect eggs each morning for breakfast.<br />
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A girl can dream.<br />
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But in the meantime, this little egg basket, flowers and Happy Easter sign is all sitting in my dining room, where our kids are instead just playing with the eggs--not eating them. So, one step at a time. I suppose.<br />
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And on our dining room table? Well, there are even more speckled eggs, soft green moss and bunnies--begging for Spring to arrive for good. Begging for the baby bunnies to be born under our back deck for the 3rd year in a row, for flowers to start popping up and for the sun to bring some warmth to what have been some very cold days.<br />
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Then if you head into our kitchen, more bunnies and speckled eggs sitting on soft green moss will greet you--because holidays are just my favourite.<br />
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But you know what else is my favourite? </div>
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A great deal. </div>
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So here's the truth--you want to create your own little Easter vignette? You don't have to pay a fortune---you just have to go to a Kindergarten teacher's paradise (a little ol' place called Dollarama). Don't tell anyone. But seriously, almost everything you see was from that gem of a store. You just have to be prepared to do a little Dollarama DIY and you're all set. </div>
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Some brown craft paint and a steel wool scrub pad is all you need to turn solid coloured plastic eggs into adorable speckled eggs. And those white bunnies? Well...</div>
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THIS is what they used to look like when I first bought them (for only $2 each!).</div>
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But with a little white spray paint they've been transformed into adorable little bunnies...a little more chic--a little less cheap.<br />
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And that adorable teal coloured cake stand? Yup, $4 Dollarama special.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LlFbsUssxxQ/WrmYicSKLGI/AAAAAAAAgdg/zs1ZuF_Mf5gTaZNgLcsImKGYNuRSZ3CUgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LlFbsUssxxQ/WrmYicSKLGI/AAAAAAAAgdg/zs1ZuF_Mf5gTaZNgLcsImKGYNuRSZ3CUgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2761.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I use it for parties (<a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/2017/11/myas-tea-party.html" target="_blank">Mya's tea party was why I originally bought it</a>) and I swear I'll find a million other ways to use it throughout the rest of the year.<br />
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$4 well spent.<br />
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Then you throw a little green moss on top of it (found in the craft aisle), some decorative twig balls and you've got yourself a little rustic spring vignette, for only a few dollars.<br />
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And that pretty little <i>Happy Easter</i> sign? Well, if you want one for yourself, <a href="https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/AaIwWo3UyouLIFHqQMhW1qCPTkw9od2matCv85p9F5jn61gVXlfhk18/" target="_blank">HERE </a>is where I found it for free online (I just printed it off of my printer at home on regular white paper and popped it into a white Dollarama frame that I already had). Perfectly easy, perfectly cute. Add some mason jars (free from my basement) and whatever spring flowers that you love, and you've got yourself a cute little spring scene.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vsSzv1HHr6I/WrmYmlr6kFI/AAAAAAAAgdk/QL2eODDjgJsaCB7cfYQ8E0Ej2XMPL_SAwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vsSzv1HHr6I/WrmYmlr6kFI/AAAAAAAAgdk/QL2eODDjgJsaCB7cfYQ8E0Ej2XMPL_SAwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2806.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So if you're sick of the cold drab weather that seems to never go away these days--add a few speckled eggs, a couple bunnies and some flowers to your space and I swear you'll feel better. And so cheap--I mean seriously you can't go wrong. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cjJTIuPp_dI/WrpZUoi0IOI/AAAAAAAAgd8/thHHY6DO5K0HjCqhnqpbPKL5LU_A58L9wCLcBGAs/s1600/Collage%2B2018-03-27%2B10_43_19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="800" height="441" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cjJTIuPp_dI/WrpZUoi0IOI/AAAAAAAAgd8/thHHY6DO5K0HjCqhnqpbPKL5LU_A58L9wCLcBGAs/s640/Collage%2B2018-03-27%2B10_43_19.jpg" width="640" /></a>It almost makes to believe that Easter is actually just around the corner, despite the fact that we're all still wearing winter coats. </div>
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Happy spring everyone. </div>
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Erica xo</div>
Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-75653578351379121722018-02-22T21:43:00.000-05:002018-02-22T21:49:30.891-05:00A Year In Photos<br />
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This picture was taken at nighttime several months ago, right before Sophia was introduced to her big girl bed. Right before our sweet little girl took the plunge and entered the great big world of being BIG. Because being big, to a little person, means everything.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-94D4IZ3aCZA/Wn5AzhPZw8I/AAAAAAAAfnU/pXFKOBMtgLcrZ4KDw3jcGZkkwPBv4DtSwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-94D4IZ3aCZA/Wn5AzhPZw8I/AAAAAAAAfnU/pXFKOBMtgLcrZ4KDw3jcGZkkwPBv4DtSwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9971.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So as I scanned through some of the old photos still sadly sitting on my camera card, it brought back memories that I had already forgotten about. And the reality is that it made me realize that my never-ending goal of creating photo books representing each year since our first baby was born needs to be a big priority, that I just need to get done.<br />
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I want our pictures to be frozen in time, in real paper-back books. Books that our kids can hold in their hands, not just look at from a screen. Books that will be loved and cherished, and looked at over and over again until the pages are worn and the pictures are familiar.<br />
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So as I scanned through the mounds of pictures that are still sitting there waiting for me, it made me smile--because as I looked back at all of the things that we have done as a family, all of the cute adorable moments that our kids have had, and all of the simple moments that we've had together as a family, it stopped me in my tracks for a moment. It made me put everything else aside for a moment and I just sat in that moment for a minute. That moment of appreciation, of thankfulness, of knowing that (for me) my role as mom really is the most critical, and most important role that I'll ever have in my life.<br />
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I have a little card on my fridge that says "You will always harvest what you plant", which can be interpreted in a variety of ways to whoever reads it.<br />
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But to me, I read it as <i>what I do right NOW with my children--what experiences we give them, how we respond to them, what words we choose to use when speaking to them and how we treat them now will ultimately turn them into who they are going to be when they are older.</i> What we plant RIGHT NOW will affect who they are in their future (the harvest). It will impact how they feel about themselves, what kind of people they are going to be, whether they're kind, compassionate, loving...what kind of life they will choose to lead. So as I scanned through all of these photos of our babies, our kids--it made me so grateful, so ridiculously grateful for this role of mother that I get to play.<br />
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So when I do finally just sit down and take the time to figure out these photo books, I'll tuck away memories now of times like this...<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HscRT1DdQjs/Wn5AZa1YuuI/AAAAAAAAfnM/V-db9G58FLsHRrSFDW700tHY5cWCdUXkwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HscRT1DdQjs/Wn5AZa1YuuI/AAAAAAAAfnM/V-db9G58FLsHRrSFDW700tHY5cWCdUXkwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_4065.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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when my kids were the guinea pigs for so many of my kindergarten activities, where they worked in complete silence for the longest time, stringing Cheerios one by one onto spaghetti, working on their fine motor skills, hand/eye coordination and patience.<br />
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Or when Sophia refused to wear anything but this Tinker Bell costume for months on end.<br />
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or when we grew huge zucchinis in our vegetable garden that the kids loved to pick and turn into delicious zucchini bread.</div>
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Or that time when we watched a live show and Carter spent the whole time snuggling his little sister</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c8sJWOYDLKA/Wot12BVj5TI/AAAAAAAAfr8/r7bzf_czKh0tWuH4JT0sR1Kz-aTobI8pwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c8sJWOYDLKA/Wot12BVj5TI/AAAAAAAAfr8/r7bzf_czKh0tWuH4JT0sR1Kz-aTobI8pwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0016.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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or that time that the kids came to the hospital to meet Chloe and they wrapped up a bunch of their own toys from home to give her as her first baby gifts...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e1wb6F1UE3Y/Wot25eJwn4I/AAAAAAAAfsM/8Vji2m5es08YB7CdkCjJgSMlf79CANRTgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e1wb6F1UE3Y/Wot25eJwn4I/AAAAAAAAfsM/8Vji2m5es08YB7CdkCjJgSMlf79CANRTgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0403.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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or after-school hot chocolate at our kitchen table with friends on cold afternoons.<br />
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So when life becomes distracting and busy and my mind forgets about this little memory-storing photo goal of mine...when I'm swamped with cupcake orders...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qfzaBr-1t4A/Wot4rqSAt8I/AAAAAAAAfss/tlcS9sDmSWYOG1nQSTvTx8CCU81dlzvhwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qfzaBr-1t4A/Wot4rqSAt8I/AAAAAAAAfss/tlcS9sDmSWYOG1nQSTvTx8CCU81dlzvhwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2499.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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and when I'm boxing mounds of cupcakes and treats during nap time, I'm reminded of those darn photo books that I still haven't gotten done yet.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UPAu3M4CT1U/Wot6GCpct_I/AAAAAAAAftg/_VQKW4sjjJUeCVKtCDj04cLjY7Mlk429wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UPAu3M4CT1U/Wot6GCpct_I/AAAAAAAAftg/_VQKW4sjjJUeCVKtCDj04cLjY7Mlk429wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2587.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Or when holidays like Valentine's Day sneak up, and all of a sudden I find myself scrambling late at night to get things ready for the next day--I push the photo books aside again. Because it's like the world has given us these moments as excuses to celebrate with each other--so I'll take it. I swear I get just as much joy out of holidays and traditions and all the fun stuff that comes along with them as the kids do. </div>
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So the night before Valentine's Day, when all the kids were asleep, I pulled out my Valentine's Day decorations and hung cheap dollar store hearts, set the table for breakfast with heart paper plates and napkins, and wrote out little Valentine cards for each of the kids to find at their chair when they woke up. A surprise was my intention, but my kids now know me and my antics too well. </div>
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Before even going downstairs that Valentine's Day morning, Mya starting collecting her brother and sister together at the top of the stairs, wanting to step into the kitchen together since she knew that something fun was waiting for them all.<br />
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Yes, cheap tablecloths, mini red and white Smarties and decorations that I store away each year for this very moment is what thrills them--because all of a sudden our morning became a celebration, right before school.<br />
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And at the end of the day, the celebrations continued as everyone dumped out and showed off their Valentine's Day treat bags from school to everyone and we all got excited and thrilled at each little sucker or card that each of them pulled out and presented to everyone.<br />
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And literally 2 minutes before heading to bed, I turned to Terry, "Shoot! I forgot about their heart hunt!"...so I told them to close their eyes as I ran around the house and hid hearts with clues on them that led them all over the house until they finally found their little cheap Valentine's treat at the end.<br />
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Because these are the little moments that I want them to remember. These are the moments that are just plain fun--for them and their parents alike!<br />
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But here's the thing...you know what the honest truth is? If I just gave them a great big hug and called out Happy Valentine's Day to them as they walked into the kitchen with nothing set out but their mother standing there with a baby on her hip, they'd remember that too with fondness and their faces would light up with smiles just the same. Because it doesn't take much to bring happiness to children.<br />
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Now excuse me while I go try to figure out how on earth to make one of these photo books. Because I figured if I told the world I'd do it, I'd be much more obliged to actually get them done. No more distractions. <br />
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Anyone have any good photo book suggestions??<br />
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Night everyone,<br />
Erica xoEricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-53583989933166378722018-02-01T20:33:00.000-05:002018-02-01T21:28:31.283-05:00When motherhood feels like you're drowning<div>
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There was once this hilarious <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEbZrY0G9PI" target="_blank">comedian </a>(and father of 4) who described having four children with a little visual to let everyone know exactly how it felt. </div>
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In all of his hilarity, he said to his audience..."You wanna know what it's like to have a fourth [child]? Just imagine you're drowning---then someone hands you a baby". </div>
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Which makes me laugh, now that I'm in his same shoes. </div>
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Because, yes, of course some days it feels like you're not only drowning, but the waves are actually crashing up and over you, and someone has actually passed you eight babies--because once you have 4, really there may as well be a million in your arms. </div>
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Those mornings when I've been up all night nursing babies, changing bedsheets, calming kids from bad dreams or falls out of bed, and then the clock hits 6am and I wonder how I'm actually going to physically get my body out of this bed. I wonder if my legs will actually hold me and if my brain can actually make the appropriate thought processes in order to move my body from bed to floor. And I can't imagine how completely disheveled I must look at this point, with my hair all a mess, deep bags under my eyes, milk dribble all over my shirt...so I somehow quickly find my way to the shower where the warmth of the water makes me feel whole again, and where I self-talk myself into having a great day. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vyqrc8nIslc/WnNkoidTHzI/AAAAAAAAfeo/ygyzxBJrX2cxZeOC_HmtPgBYuCqTcsKbwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vyqrc8nIslc/WnNkoidTHzI/AAAAAAAAfeo/ygyzxBJrX2cxZeOC_HmtPgBYuCqTcsKbwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2332.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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These are the moments when I remind myself of how lucky I am, how lucky we all are--because it's in these moments that I always think that we're not only living out our dreams right now with these four beautiful kids of ours, but we're also living out the dreams of so many people who would give anything to have a baby or a family of their own. So, when I'm feeling like the waves are crashing down on me, I always always always remind myself that someone else would give anything (<i>everything</i>) to have even just one night of sleep deprivation if it meant that they had a baby or family of their own. </div>
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So I step out of the shower, dry myself off, brush my hair, slap on some makeup, get into legit clothes and welcome my kids to a new day with a smile and a "Good morning my loves!", as if I'm not actually about to fall over. </div>
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Because this is real life.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mX9mHfEXZuQ/WnNkTwf6Q7I/AAAAAAAAfec/i2oRZMqdl0Qv54bAat8xEypT0DrwOOcEgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mX9mHfEXZuQ/WnNkTwf6Q7I/AAAAAAAAfec/i2oRZMqdl0Qv54bAat8xEypT0DrwOOcEgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2250.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And here is the honest truth...as I drag myself down the stairs some mornings...<i>drag </i>myself...my head pounds, my body aches from nursing all night and the weight of my responsibilities weighs heavily on my heart. So as I take that last step onto the cool hardwood floor at the bottom of our staircase, the famous author and teacher Toni Morrison's words always play over in my head..."When your child walks into the room, does your face light up?".<br />
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So I think about that a lot. And I try really hard.</div>
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Is my face lighting up when I see them first thing in the morning, or am I instead too tired and about to nag them about getting dressed and brushing their teeth before that moment even has a chance to happen? I know they can feel it, either way it plays out. </div>
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So on those days that I feel like I'm drowning in exhaustion, drowning in laundry, drowning in chores, drowning in little people's needs and wants, drowning in self-doubt and noise...I take a breath. I breathe, and pray and reflect on what I really want from this life. What I really want for our kids. What I really want for our family. I remind myself that life is bigger than our emotions, life is bigger than our feelings and life is <i>meant </i>to be abundant and joyful. So I need to find it. It is my job to find it. It is <i>my </i>job to find my own happiness, as it is everyones. It's not Terry's job to make me happy (although of course he does). It's not my children's job to make me happy (which of course they do). My happiness is my own responsibility, and I take it very seriously. So if I'm having a day where I feel like I'm drowning, I pull myself up before my head is actually under the water. I start to get active about my happiness.<br />
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I tell Terry about how I'm feeling so we can talk it through. I go for a walk or turn on some good music. I bake some cookies or I get together with friends. I walk the aisles of Home Sense alone or I take a long bath. And I start to remind myself about all of the tiny blessings that I have in my life--because our minds are ridiculously powerful things. </div>
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It's the same reason as to why I stood outside the door of a therapist's office on a cold winter day not too long ago, knowing that I needed to work through the grief and sadness I still constantly feel <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/2016/12/a-new-little-life-and-terrible-loss.html" target="_blank">over loosing Chloe's twin</a> and our other baby <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/search?q=grief+stricken" target="_blank">who I carried and lost right before Sophia was born</a>. Because my sadness, my grief and that burning sense that <i>something is missing</i> in our family is real--and I want to be able to work through it in a healthy way. Because happiness needs to be a priority. </div>
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So sure, I can say that some days I can definitely appreciate the whole 'drowning and someone then hands you a baby' visual. But most days? Well, most days I'm at the most peace that I've ever been in my life. I can honestly say that since growing our family to a family of six, I have never been happier or more content. I mean, I just look at our family sometimes when we're all together and I can't get over it...I just can't believe how incredibly lucky we are. These kids--all four of them, have just stolen my heart completely. And yes, sure, it's a lot of work. And yes, sure, it takes a lot of patience and sacrifice and organization and cleaning and some days it's just downright exhausting. But these four beautiful children of ours--well they're just everything to me. And I wouldn't want it any other way. </div>
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So those days and nights that are long...well, <i>let them be long. </i></div>
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Because what I know for sure is that these days won't last forever. These tiny humans will not be tiny humans for much longer. So I'll take the hard with the easy, the good with the bad...and when I really feel like I need a life line, I'll call another mom--because without me even saying a word, she'll understand (and maybe even bring chocolate). </div>
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Erica xoxo<br />
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Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-29199654045871975212018-01-17T14:00:00.002-05:002018-01-18T20:04:45.729-05:00Punta Cana oh how we miss you <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have finally forced myself to sit down in this little space of mine today, because what I'm learning from having 4 little kids these days is that it's getting harder and harder for me to find the time to actually sit down and write.<br />
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So it's the middle of the day, the baby is sleeping and Sophia is in quiet time...and the laundry is waiting, I'm ignoring the dishes from snack time, I still have to make dinner and I already hear the baby stirring. So this is going to have to be quick. <br />
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It was one of those spur of the moment decisions, where I turned to Terry late one night and said "Let's pack up the kids and go away for a week".<br />
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And he turned to me with that look of, "That seems crazy, and sounds like a lot of work".<br />
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I mean, sure we had a 13week old at the time...but no better time than the present, right?<br />
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So we scanned the internet for a resort. asked friends for recommendations, invited our whole family to come along (and sadly Jen and Jeff and the kids couldn't make it, but both my parents and Terry's mom were in), and finally we booked ourselves a trip to Punta Cana, Dominican for a few weeks from then.<br />
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This is going to be great, I told myself as I packed a million bags full of clothes, diapers, swimsuits and soothers and tried to ignore the understandably concerned people in my life asking me if I was crazy for taking so many little people on a trip like this.<br />
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It'll be fine, I'd repeat to myself--everyone will be fine.<br />
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And you know what? It was.<br />
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It was amazing.<br />
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I told myself d<i>on't get stressed out no matter what happens. Stay calm no matter what happens. </i>If everyone is crying on the airplane? No problem. We'll work through it. If noone wants to go to sleep at night? Well, we've all been sleep deprived before--no big deal. If our luggage gets lost? Well, it's just stuff.<br />
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Cool, calm and collected. This was my mantra.<br />
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And you know what? All of the things that I was worried <i>could </i>happen, <i>didn't </i>happen (minus the luggage getting lost--and when we found out Terry's and my suitcase was missing, I actually did say to myself and everyone around--no big deal, it's just stuff. Not to worry).<br />
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We knew that our actions and reactions would set the tone for the whole trip, so Terry and I purposed to be cheery, calm and relaxed as much as we could, especially during the <i>getting there</i> part. Terry and I always give eachother the pep talk before we go away anywhere fun with the kids. This is pretty much how it goes <i>every single time</i>: "For our kids, the family trip starts from the moment that we start packing up the van and pull out of the driveway, so we need to be careful about what kind of memories we want to leave them with. Stressed out snappy parents trying to get everyone into the car or onto the airplane really is what will be left as their memories if we let it happen"--so we try really hard to keep our cool as the chaos of departure begins.<br />
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We started our adventure at 4:00am that morning, as we woke up excited kids who were desperate to get on that airplane. We packed them all into the van on that cold, dark morning and drove off as the rest of the world slept.<br />
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And after a flight full of lots of snacks, books, movies and nursing a tired baby, we landed safely and hurried through the Dominican airport constantly counting little people, hauling suitcases, waiting in unbelievable lines and stripping kids down layer by layer as the heat hit us hard.</div>
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But we made it.<br />
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Tired. Exhausted. Hot. But we made it.<br />
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And the resort? Well it was incredible.</div>
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We arrived to cold drinks and wash cloths being handed to us, and we were introduced to our butler (that's right--we had a BUTLER).."for whatever you need, whenever you need it" we were told.<br />
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Geeze, I could get used to this.<br />
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And with 24hr room service included, we could have stayed in our room the whole time essentially--but we headed out for meals all together each day and the food was amazing and delicious.</div>
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And at night time, the kids got to be a part of the evening shows, acting in plays in front of huge audiences...(see that cute little sheep on the back right?..that's Mya).<br />
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and Carter was one of Snow White's seven dwarfs (green guy at the front).<br />
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We all stayed up late dancing to live music,<br />
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and had a blast jumping in the waves at the beach and walking through the most beautiful, soft sand that you could ever imagine... </div>
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while someone collected all of the seaweed that had washed up on shore.<br />
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The kids indulged in ridiculously decadent ice cream treats by the pool,<br />
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and listened to story after story from each of the adults at the table, in an attempt to keep a bunch of little people to sit still in the restaurants for all of the meals that we had together.<br />
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And entertainment? Well, they were set. With a water park right in the resort, we spent our mornings going down water slides...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hn4sycu2w3s/Wl49-j0o5II/AAAAAAAAfV8/IV-_DtGIS-cJPtl3V2AI36IBs2jdyylLACLcBGAs/s1600/20171121_104245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hn4sycu2w3s/Wl49-j0o5II/AAAAAAAAfV8/IV-_DtGIS-cJPtl3V2AI36IBs2jdyylLACLcBGAs/s640/20171121_104245.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
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and our afternoons were spent swimming in the gigantic pools... where they had kid performances right on the deck each day...<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sk46exeKRow/Wl4_GPNA02I/AAAAAAAAfWw/K9ZP7Vd8CWcRsDPjCa7yNYCf2nIQYCmPwCLcBGAs/s1600/20171122_111719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sk46exeKRow/Wl4_GPNA02I/AAAAAAAAfWw/K9ZP7Vd8CWcRsDPjCa7yNYCf2nIQYCmPwCLcBGAs/s640/20171122_111719.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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and water aerobics that mom, Mya and I loved doing together (two blond pony tails are mom and I sweatin' it out)<br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">And just in case you needed a bit more excitement, all of a sudden a circus show was being set up right there in front of you by the pool </span></div>
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so Chloe watched from under our sun umbrella, and the bigger kids were encouraged to actually become a part of the entertainment...<br />
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and they finished off each morning by blasting fun music and having the kids do the actions in front of other guests in the pool while we sat off to the side under huge umbrellas and cheered and clapped and took lots of pictures. </div>
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And when all of the excitement was over, we rested in the shade...</div>
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and drank copious amounts of pineapple juice and other said beverages for the non-nursing folk. </div>
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*we <i>may </i>have encouraged the grandparents to do some double-fisting by the end of the day, just for kicks. </div>
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And with nighttime entertainment designed to blow your socks off, the kids still can't stop talking about Michael Jackson and now constantly ask to watch old YouTube videos of the pop star back in the day.<br />
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So we made it, our little family of ours. We had a ridiculously fun time and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.<br />
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Family time together is really what this life is all about. So we soaked up the fun, soaked up the memories and we really can't wait to continue to create some more.<br />
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*this was one of the highlights of the trip for this 2yr old. Mini sinks built just for her height. Perfection.<br />
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So the lesson in all of this? JUST GO.<br />
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Don't wait until they're older and it's easier. Don't wait until the perfect time. Don't wait until you don't have to haul diapers and wipes and blankies and stuffies. And it doesn't have to be as big of a deal as getting on an airplane. Just go to a hotel for a night with the kids. Go on a day trip to the park or somewhere local and free. Swim in the pool and eat breakfast at a buffet. Just get the kids out and have fun together as a family. The kids will never forget it. <br />
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And I highly suggest getting some rest in when you can. Cause no matter what, traveling with little people is just plain exhausting...</div>
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but a million times worth it.<br />
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Happy whatever day it is today everyone. All the days just seem to blend into each other these days.<br />
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Thanks Nana, Papa and Grandma for coming with us. 'Til next time Dominican. 'Til next time.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-9089182381298976462017-11-29T21:33:00.003-05:002017-11-29T21:33:47.604-05:00Mya's Tea Party <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is going to be quick. We all just got back from Dominican, so we're wading through piles and piles of laundry, the baby has been up 4 times already since I put her to bed just over two hours ago, and I'm wiped.</div>
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So with few words and a lot of pictures, here is our girls big day. She turned 7 last month, and a tea party was her request. So before I forget to actually place these pictures here for her to look at in years to come, I figured late was better than never.</div>
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So, a tea party. A cute girly tea party. I got a little excited about the details...because a tea party with a bunch of kids is pretty fun to organize. </div>
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So we made treats for the kids to take home,<br />
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and borrowed the most adorable perfect set of tea cups from a friend (thanks Sarah!).</div>
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We welcomed all of her friends with cute signs that my dad had printed for us and encouraged all of the guests to wear their favourite dress or outfit (because a tea party needs to be fancy, of course).<br />
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And as I carefully iced every last one of those cupcakes for her pull apart cake and sprinkled hot pink sprinkles all over it, she was absolutely thrilled. </div>
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So, here's the thing...</div>
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somehow our guest list turned into 18 kids--like a full classroom of kids in our house. So I literally had to run the party like my kindergarten classroom...with a variety of centres where the kids could flow from one to the next. </div>
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And it actually worked like a charm. </div>
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So we filled the table with little tea party food</div>
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and tiny heart shaped sandwiches, because, well it just felt appropriate...</div>
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and as kids piled into our house, we set them up with ribbons and Froot Loops and they made beautiful necklaces that they could wear to tea. <br />
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and then we sent them off to their centres, where they continued to prep for the tea party by making beautiful bracelets for themselves out of gorgeous beads and charms...<br />
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and then sent them off to make cute bonnets (made simply by gluing paper plates and bowls together and adding ribbon)--and we had special black hats for Carter and Oliver to decorate since they were the only boys in the mix.<br />
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and then we had a Shopkins centre, where there were Shopkins galore for the kids to play with--just because, well these little Shopkins are all the rage right now (and I have no idea why). </div>
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And then...just as they finished tying the last of their bonnets on and finished showing off their new necklaces and bracelets to eachother, they all sat down to a cute little tea party where they were served hot tea (or lemonade for those who prefered it) and they ate, and laughed, and giggled the whole way through it. </div>
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And we taught them how to hold up their little pinky finger while sipping their tea...because, well, that's just how the fancy people do it apparently.<br />
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And then, just as they were jammed full of tea and sugar, we pulled out the piniata that was full to the rim with candy and let them go nuts.<br />
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and we played a little game of pin the tea cup on the tea pot...<br />
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and this new 7yr old was thrilled with all of her gifts.<br />
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And then, just as I was about to fall over from party exhaustion...I made her a candy drip cake, dripping in pink ganache and covered in her favourite candy for her actual birthday with our family--because I like to run myself ragged apparently.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mm8OBBla11M/Wh4E919QKBI/AAAAAAAAevo/cLFcPSGEu1U9vKbeWeGzVkKzsqmK-B93wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mm8OBBla11M/Wh4E919QKBI/AAAAAAAAevo/cLFcPSGEu1U9vKbeWeGzVkKzsqmK-B93wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1571.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So, there it is. Another birthday passed by. Another year older. Another party in the books.<br />
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Happy (late) 7th birthday Mya, to the sweet girl who made me a mom.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-81429463770989560902017-10-31T12:01:00.001-04:002017-10-31T13:28:55.254-04:00When your blog post makes it all the way to Galen Weston <br />
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So here we are, Halloween 2017. Where kids are giddy with excitement, where sugar overload is coming, and where costumes are being pulled over the heads of children everywhere.<br />
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It's hard to believe that a whole year has passed since this time last year. A whole year which has thrown us some hard moments, where it can seem like the world might just be falling apart a bit. But as I read through this old blog post that I wrote from last Halloween, it reminded me for a moment of the good. The good that is always around us--the people who surprise us with kindness and love when we least expect it. The kind of good that needs to be recognized, to inspire others to do the same.<br />
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So as I think back to that time when I pressed "publish" and my words of thanks landed on the page for a company who went above and beyond to make my students Halloween memorable, it's hard to feel anything but grateful still--even one year after the fact. It's also hard to believe that somehow in all of the sharing and attention that my little o' blog post created, my little Halloween post got into the hands of Galen Weston (the executive CEO, chairman and president of Loblaws Company Limited)--you know that cheery guy on all of those commercials for the Superstore and Loblaws? Ya, him.<br />
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HE read my blog post. And he didn't only read it himself--he read it out loud to his ENTIRE company at a town hall meeting. A little way to inspire others to be kind too--because if you see kindness, you have to pass it on.<br />
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So here it is, the post from last year as a little reminder that there really is a lot of good in this world--people are good, companies are good..and Halloween should be fun for absolutely everyone. And by the way, thank you Galen for using my story to inspire others. And thanks for making great meatballs.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Sometimes you get these little pockets of magical things that happen in life. These little moments that bring you to tears, things that make your heart jump, things that make you realize that the world really is full of so many great people.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Last Friday I had one of those moments. One of those moments that took my breath away and made me so incredibly grateful.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">You see, I was on a bit of a mission this past week. A mission to convince companies to donate Halloween costumes to our school. Halloween costumes for all of the kids who I knew would walk into school Monday morning, see others dressed up and feel upset knowing that their family couldn't afford such luxuries. So, I went store to store </span><strike style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">begging</strike><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"> asking managers to please consider donating some costumes to our kids...but I got turned down over and over again.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Then my mom, my 6yr old daughter Mya and I walked into the Superstore this past weekend and I stopped the very first lady who I saw with a name tag, and I told her about my kids at my school. I told her that I didn't want any child to show up feeling upset, feeling like they didn't fit in, or feeling that terrible sinking feeling in the pit of their stomach when it feels like you don't have what everyone else has. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">And I could all of a sudden see it happening in her eyes.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">She GOT it.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">She felt it.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">She immediately called her manager.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">And then the real magic happened. She literally spent all of two seconds explaining the needs of some of the kids at our school and the managers response was an immediate YES.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">YES!!!</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">I couldn't believe it. I swear my heart stopped for a moment.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">This angel of a lady turned to me and said, "Go pick whatever costumes you need".</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">I thanked her profusely, took Mya's hand in mine and turned away so she wouldn't see the tears streaming down my face. Overwhelmed with gratitude. Overwhelmed with shock and with the incredible feeling that </span><i style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">people are good. </i><br />
<i style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><br /></i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">I turned to look at my mom and her eyes were full of tears too. So there we were, two blubbering women, walking down the aisles at the Superstore, heading towards the costume racks knowing that those costumes were not just costumes anymore--they were a lifeline to some kids at my school who would all of a sudden get to feel that surge of excitement of being handed something </span><i style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">new</i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">, that feeling of belonging and that sense that they could, if even just for a moment, have what everyone else had.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">So we picked through the racks of beautiful princess gowns, complete with jewels, crinoline and beading. We scanned through the Ninja Turtle costumes complete with built in muscles, turtle shells and masks. We looked at sizes and types, holding each one up to Mya's body to make sure we had appropriate sizes and we tried to pick a variety of options so that there could possibly be a good match for any child in need who showed up at my classroom door on Monday.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1xdd2yf3XBs/WBjyN5dTFuI/AAAAAAAAcLw/455f3vGFUyAqbjVbixYithOlUy1cX9uOACLcB/s1600/IMG_0603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1xdd2yf3XBs/WBjyN5dTFuI/AAAAAAAAcLw/455f3vGFUyAqbjVbixYithOlUy1cX9uOACLcB/s640/IMG_0603.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">And then we carried our pile of costumes to customer service where they scanned each and every one of those amazing costumes through and handed them over to us, free of charge, with a smile.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">When I stood there watching her scan each and every one of those costumes through, I realized that Loblaws had just donated over $300 worth of Halloween costumes to our school, </span><i style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">without a second thought.</i><br />
<i style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><br /></i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1w1gBuzXTPo/WBjy1DJmpsI/AAAAAAAAcL0/sW5udJBp9tsAamGOgdoPXfO0tC9UY-e9wCLcB/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1w1gBuzXTPo/WBjy1DJmpsI/AAAAAAAAcL0/sW5udJBp9tsAamGOgdoPXfO0tC9UY-e9wCLcB/s640/IMG_0587.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Unbelievable.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iW4EttKKUdA/WBj1F8tkPRI/AAAAAAAAcMU/Tg2hTwbBHp4sTAe_eYCZW4MDlOhUiL7PQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iW4EttKKUdA/WBj1F8tkPRI/AAAAAAAAcMU/Tg2hTwbBHp4sTAe_eYCZW4MDlOhUiL7PQCLcB/s640/IMG_0606.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">So my intention with this blog post is to say a great big thank you to Loblaws. To this wonderful company, please know that when the word started trickling through the school that I had costumes available for kids I started having teachers stop me in the hallway. I had one teacher tell me that she had a little boy in her classroom at that very moment who was incredibly upset since he didn't have a costume. Ironically, she told me that he spent the day before drawing a picture of Ninja Turtles since he loved them so much, so I handed her a Ninja Turtle costume and watched her walk down the hall to deliver this amazing gift to this unsuspecting little boy. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Please know that I had a kindergarten teacher come to my room telling me that a 5yr old little girl in her class was crying in the hallway since she didn't have a costume to wear, so I brought her into my room to pick a gorgeous sparkly dress from the pile that fit her perfectly and all of a sudden made her feel like she was the same as everyone else. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Please know that I had a shy little girl show up at my classroom door with her friend asking if there was possibly a costume that might fit her since she didn't have one of her own. So we pulled a gorgeous Snow White costume over her head and she was all of a sudden transformed.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Please know that at the end of the day a little boy came up to me in a panic, asking if I had any costumes left since he had nothing to wear trick or treating that night. I'll never forget watching him skip down the hall holding his Ninja Turtle costume over his shoulder, thrilled beyond belief.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sgFIo5iMRcw/WBjzRZhJ-tI/AAAAAAAAcL8/a-6Hw1-qt1ApUsyEfqdJ8h7xFoSgVmW4wCLcB/s1600/IMG_0616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sgFIo5iMRcw/WBjzRZhJ-tI/AAAAAAAAcL8/a-6Hw1-qt1ApUsyEfqdJ8h7xFoSgVmW4wCLcB/s640/IMG_0616.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Please know that there was a little girl whose mom drew whiskers on her face with eye liner and told me that it was all that she had. She said that they were late for school that day since this little girl was so upset about not having a real costume--so we took her back to pick from the pile of gorgeous ball gowns.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QPtdwOUYf04/WBj0OkawYWI/AAAAAAAAcMI/Qv4qHl2J4LIXDY3sm8U07kZn3UovA3WRQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QPtdwOUYf04/WBj0OkawYWI/AAAAAAAAcMI/Qv4qHl2J4LIXDY3sm8U07kZn3UovA3WRQCLcB/s640/IMG_0599.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">I wish I could post a picture of her beaming face wearing the most beautiful purple princess gown that day.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYbqH1dqKrc/WBjz5YN6b3I/AAAAAAAAcMA/rUmXUCeQD5YjX_5oSSCoFfI9ri_7txg1ACLcB/s1600/IMG_0595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYbqH1dqKrc/WBjz5YN6b3I/AAAAAAAAcMA/rUmXUCeQD5YjX_5oSSCoFfI9ri_7txg1ACLcB/s640/IMG_0595.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">So thank you Superstore and Loblaws for making this joy happen.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-634K1ziD1k8/WBj0fSmNHdI/AAAAAAAAcMM/tMC86Eiqo9w3AfQLtXDERSxnKb8CjvUXwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-634K1ziD1k8/WBj0fSmNHdI/AAAAAAAAcMM/tMC86Eiqo9w3AfQLtXDERSxnKb8CjvUXwCLcB/s640/IMG_0609.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Thank you for caring as much about our kids as we do.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ed8T6h3Y_P8/WBj1gudlhAI/AAAAAAAAcMc/1Bi9gDprrfk7Xvmkie7N5qmhCKs_s7L3QCLcB/s1600/IMG_0607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; color: #747474; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ed8T6h3Y_P8/WBj1gudlhAI/AAAAAAAAcMc/1Bi9gDprrfk7Xvmkie7N5qmhCKs_s7L3QCLcB/s640/IMG_0607.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Thank you for your generosity, your thoughtfulness and your kindness.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">And thank you for showing my own 3 kids the importance of giving--even if it meant Mya watching her mom and Nana sobbing down the aisles of the Superstore.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Happy Halloween from our little family to yours.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i6PUCXryBnY/WBjwNJTti_I/AAAAAAAAcLU/XEaXIAnBTeow4NOsBjgRv9BYyeqw0tX6gCLcB/s1600/IMG_0655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="color: #747474; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i6PUCXryBnY/WBjwNJTti_I/AAAAAAAAcLU/XEaXIAnBTeow4NOsBjgRv9BYyeqw0tX6gCLcB/s640/IMG_0655.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"> And thank you Superstore and Loblaws for being so amazing.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"> Love Erica xo</span><br />
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Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-24034614727733922802017-10-25T09:24:00.001-04:002017-10-25T09:24:35.684-04:00Carter's Star Wars Party <br />
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I would have taken a shot of vodka, if I was a drinker. You know, just to take the edge off.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cX5T8FNs3EQ/We4nFXfhc_I/AAAAAAAAdrA/gAUM5Vl6YA8akRDgYYZPbqlxWPjAjUUnACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cX5T8FNs3EQ/We4nFXfhc_I/AAAAAAAAdrA/gAUM5Vl6YA8akRDgYYZPbqlxWPjAjUUnACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1350.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rl84Ape1Zm8/We4qBp_oFeI/AAAAAAAAdr4/ejKXHWD3P8IGQsiNf_KTjIbKAXa4B7f_QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rl84Ape1Zm8/We4qBp_oFeI/AAAAAAAAdr4/ejKXHWD3P8IGQsiNf_KTjIbKAXa4B7f_QCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1371.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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But since I haven't even touched a drop of alcohol in like 7 years since I've been growing babies and nursing non-stop, I took a shot of lemonade and hoped for the best...<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c1f1scge-pg/We4l901DgHI/AAAAAAAAdqg/6lxxGJacVYINkUu9rL2-cfseIAoXxHT9wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c1f1scge-pg/We4l901DgHI/AAAAAAAAdqg/6lxxGJacVYINkUu9rL2-cfseIAoXxHT9wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1337.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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because our boy turned 5, and our house was about to fill up with a lot of little people for one wild and exciting Star Wars party.<br />
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With a 13 week old.<br />
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You know...just cause I like to spread myself a little too thin sometimes.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ci-_FkK6IWA/We4kT4SkDHI/AAAAAAAAdpw/Z3Iwrp15Q9IGhb8Jn5EkPPzEHtGh4vRSgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ci-_FkK6IWA/We4kT4SkDHI/AAAAAAAAdpw/Z3Iwrp15Q9IGhb8Jn5EkPPzEHtGh4vRSgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1315.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YDg4SJSYSXA/We4l3BbGyAI/AAAAAAAAdqc/uLTKdrD93I8a0ybCivOd96Xsn6mqmq3IwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YDg4SJSYSXA/We4l3BbGyAI/AAAAAAAAdqc/uLTKdrD93I8a0ybCivOd96Xsn6mqmq3IwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1336.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So with the table set...<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5lzsbCf-Nso/We4m_tCNQKI/AAAAAAAAdq4/nnkYBDY55mIk1WYN1-o7nAeznaD2IxXbwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5lzsbCf-Nso/We4m_tCNQKI/AAAAAAAAdq4/nnkYBDY55mIk1WYN1-o7nAeznaD2IxXbwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1343.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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and masks for each kid ready...<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1uIQizpTNkw/We4mgOYd4-I/AAAAAAAAdqs/FmWYtUqNXJkzQLFPhz5ncLKQShp53ls3wCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1uIQizpTNkw/We4mgOYd4-I/AAAAAAAAdqs/FmWYtUqNXJkzQLFPhz5ncLKQShp53ls3wCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_1340.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Terry clicked the <i>play </i>button, and our Star Wars music started playing at our front door as all of the kids showed up and starting piling into our house. Because Jedi training was in order for these younglings--and this mama who knows nothing about Star Wars tried to pretend like she knew what she was talking about.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2LvTJrr-aM8/We4l_a6e1DI/AAAAAAAAdqk/FL3uycKaUYEMrSN1P7uEka4qCfWf4aJRwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2LvTJrr-aM8/We4l_a6e1DI/AAAAAAAAdqk/FL3uycKaUYEMrSN1P7uEka4qCfWf4aJRwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1338.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So with the amazing help from my awesome dad, we turned the backyard into an obstacle course for the kids, where they had to army crawl through a dark tunnel...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ty_ywT2IE10/We4oEUlST_I/AAAAAAAAdrM/cOER_1uDnSsGPx-HaYLw-TFKB7N7FRFnQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ty_ywT2IE10/We4oEUlST_I/AAAAAAAAdrM/cOER_1uDnSsGPx-HaYLw-TFKB7N7FRFnQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1358.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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climb up and jump off a tall building <span style="font-size: x-small;">(or step stool..whatever</span>)...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hH5Ztye8P_8/We_Z9Ih5GiI/AAAAAAAAduI/gTjnNR-1zG0yzXfRkHurfJixTl2LMvyUgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hH5Ztye8P_8/We_Z9Ih5GiI/AAAAAAAAduI/gTjnNR-1zG0yzXfRkHurfJixTl2LMvyUgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1395.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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walk the balance beam...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8r0dAOzVqv4/We4n97i_0ZI/AAAAAAAAdrI/6pNmqBnpYJsECyJjeFaO55Aufgpz1RJWACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8r0dAOzVqv4/We4n97i_0ZI/AAAAAAAAdrI/6pNmqBnpYJsECyJjeFaO55Aufgpz1RJWACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1360.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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step from brick to brick without touching the grass...<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DCGyz5Szk-c/We4ovCFy38I/AAAAAAAAdrY/1vdQQXr07x07S_9Rk9lmKOSjIsV7D9WKgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DCGyz5Szk-c/We4ovCFy38I/AAAAAAAAdrY/1vdQQXr07x07S_9Rk9lmKOSjIsV7D9WKgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1361.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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shoot the ball in the sling shot (made by my dad of course)..<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z7BWtJHp2Dk/We4rMX3XoKI/AAAAAAAAdsY/fc3VV9EO0ig5PP2zwCbjmu2mpvDv_Y_VgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z7BWtJHp2Dk/We4rMX3XoKI/AAAAAAAAdsY/fc3VV9EO0ig5PP2zwCbjmu2mpvDv_Y_VgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1403.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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whip the ball around the pole two times...<br />
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whack the foam tube as hard as you can and watch it cannon ball out the other side...</div>
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throw the ball into the bucket...<br />
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then run like the wind back to the starting line and let your feet hit the deck to indicate that your training is completed.<br />
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Then of course if you're a true Jedi, you need to do some strength training...so tug o' war was next in order. </div>
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And jump-training is probably a Jedi thing, at least that's what we told them...so we stuffed them into potato sacks and let them loose.<br />
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Then, just to cause some chaos--we decided to hand each of them their own lightsaber (err..um..pool noodle cut in half and wrapped with some duct tape and electrical tape),<br />
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and I taught them a few Jedi moves that I pretended that I knew...when, all of a sudden, the Star Wars music was cranked up and in walked Darth Vader himself (and although after a little investigating, the kids swore it was Terry...it actually really was Darth Vader). <br />
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Then after they each got a turn to use their new Jedi skills to fight off the enemy...<br />
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Darth was defeated (and quite sore by getting smacked by so many 5yr olds, I might add).<br />
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Then they were presented with their Jedi Knight Training Academy certificate of completion (it's so very handy to have a dad who used to work in the sign business), and we headed in for drinks, food and cupcakes. <br />
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Then after the sugar set in, we headed back outside with our lightsabers and played <i>don't let your balloon hit the ground... </i><br />
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and pin the lightsaber on Darth Vader (where you get to pick from the candy bowl even if you're completely way off)...</div>
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And just as the clock was about to hit the 2hr mark and this mama was about to pass out on the floor, we sat on the grass as this lucky boy got to open all of the wonderful gifts from his generous friends...<br />
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and we slowed down a bit as I handed out Star Wars colouring sheets one by one (and pretended that I was back in my beloved kindergarten classroom) and watched as all of these little Jedi's cooled off and quietly coloured before their parents picked them up.<br />
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So as each child passed through our front door and waved goodbye, we handed them another lightsaber to take home (or..um...a bubble wand with the handle spray painted silver), with some Star Wars popping candies attached.<br />
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And we closed the door to another fun party. And a very wiped out mama. </div>
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So thank you family for helping me pull this off--for holding Chloe through all of the fun, for passing around bowls of food to eager little hands, for standing at each obstacle course station, for taking pictures of all of the action and for just being there. </div>
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Carter was one thrilled little 5yr old--and we spent the rest of the night getting into our jammies early, sucking on left over lollipops from the candy bowl and watching a movie together... <br />
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because this Sunday is Mya's birthday party with all of her friends---so it's time to rest up before the next one in a few days.<br />
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Good Lord help me.<br />
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Erica xoEricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-24453524897397876532017-10-19T21:22:00.002-04:002017-10-20T10:44:39.836-04:00Thanksgiving Turkey Toes <br />
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I thought about it for all of about 2 minutes before I drove out to the store to buy some candy corn.<br />
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I mean, turkey toes...on the Thanksgiving kids table, at each of their spots, is just, well...<i>festive</i>. Right?<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i6F5upvnYME/WdzmJRISsTI/AAAAAAAAdlk/NBg32xMZTeg_gMdVk69ZhQJuy3_E2IPLwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i6F5upvnYME/WdzmJRISsTI/AAAAAAAAdlk/NBg32xMZTeg_gMdVk69ZhQJuy3_E2IPLwCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_1136.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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It gives kids that immediate excitement of something special sitting right in front of them...that moment of <i>this doesn't happen every day</i>. And I can check off my<i> try to give them another good childhood memory</i> box--just as was done for me as a kid. I mean, thinking back to Christmas in Toronto, one of the fondest memories I have is of my cousins and I picking chocolate ornaments off of my aunt and uncle's Christmas tree and being absolutely thrilled. I still remember just being in awe of the fact that chocolate was actually <i>on their tree.</i> Nothing better. Or when my mom would make chocolate bark with almonds for Christmas, and let us sample as much as we wanted. Simple, no fuss things...that kids always remember.<br />
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So turkey toes it was, this Thanksgiving. And some sparkly pumpkins too. Because happiness is definitely having something to look forward to. The process, for me, is usually just as much fun as the event itself. So I was in the works with my mom this Thanksgiving about table decor and decorations for the big day. I told her I wanted to create a scene similar to that feeling you get at Christmas--where there is sparkle, candles, decorations...that feeling that this is no ordinary dinner.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EdtL61N6GGY/WdzppoWcf0I/AAAAAAAAdlk/TwQbKGinyUEuzPW7_N1Mc4z7NEPVjwdcACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EdtL61N6GGY/WdzppoWcf0I/AAAAAAAAdlk/TwQbKGinyUEuzPW7_N1Mc4z7NEPVjwdcACEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_1218.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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And maybe it's my crazy brain that is obsessed with trying to make sure that their childhood is full of memories that they can hold onto--traditions and all of the little things that I hope they'll remember when they're older (when life starts to really throw them the hard punches and when the reality of adulthood starts to set in for them). I want them to look back and have something to feel good about in their childhood--and it won't be perfect--it won't be unrealistic...but it will <i>feel good</i> to look back on when they're older. Hopefully they'll forget the days when the laundry was piling up, when the baby cried all day and it was grilled cheese for dinner or when mornings were a struggle to get everyone out the door and when their mom's patience was wearing thin. Maybe they'll remember the turkey toes. Right?? Sure, let's just go with that and keep our fingers crossed.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c1K_MfCNiM4/WdzocDrjkpI/AAAAAAAAdlk/5gG-SvXMXvgQsW4_AQKp6ARKabY66JvggCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c1K_MfCNiM4/WdzocDrjkpI/AAAAAAAAdlk/5gG-SvXMXvgQsW4_AQKp6ARKabY66JvggCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_1158.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So napkins were wrapped in cute little printables...which ultimately makes everyone feel a bit happy as they sit down at their seat and realize that someone is grateful for them specifically--and the kids loved seeing their names in print of course (found <a href="https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/122652789835183106/" target="_blank">here </a>if you want to print your own)...<br />
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And as my talented mom whipped up this cute burlap table runner with lace just days before, (since it's impossible to find a runner to fit their massive table)...<br />
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I filled glass candle holders with dried corn (from my sensory bin from my kindie class of course!)<br />
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and my mom surprised the kids with these cute little rice krispie pumpkins (recipe found <a href="http://onelittleproject.com/rice-krispie-treat-pumpkins/" target="_blank">here</a>).</div>
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So with a little kid chaos, a lot of noise, a lot of fussing over babies and little people, a lot of hot corning wear dishes, and lots of wine and juice...our Thanksgiving was complete...<br />
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even though it's impossible to get everyone sitting or even in the same vicinity at once.<br />
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And with Carter's birthday falling on the same day, we celebrated big time...</div>
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and I made him the cake that he requested--a chocolate bar cake, drooling in chocolate ganache. </div>
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He opened mail from loving relatives a plane ride away...and was thrilled to bits as he ripped through wrapping paper and dug through tissue paper filled bags to find the toys hidden within.<br />
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So I'm trying to hold onto these moments...these moments in time. Because life can get hard. Life can get rough. Life can sweep you under the current at times and take your breath away. So maybe, just maybe, when it happens to them as they grow up and face the real world, they'll have a bit of hope from the memories that we're trying to make for them right now.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L-6ecdss6_I/WdzqqEKLF6I/AAAAAAAAdlk/TPYhW6qlgRkWH9k_gCgQrYdFhEGOEEeNgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L-6ecdss6_I/WdzqqEKLF6I/AAAAAAAAdlk/TPYhW6qlgRkWH9k_gCgQrYdFhEGOEEeNgCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_1207.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Just maybe.<br />
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I hope.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-70022308795256994492017-10-06T21:53:00.001-04:002017-10-06T22:00:18.981-04:00A month in real life pictures <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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It's been a month. An entire month since I set foot in this space of mine to write. An entire month since I even thought about taking the time to place my photos in this safe spot--this spot where I can always come back to to remember, and to re-live again and again. To be able to remember the good, the hard, the real stuff that is making our life so full, so busy, so exhausting, so hard and so wonderful all in the same breath. Because having 4 little kids at home, including one baby who has unfortunately become quite colicky and who, most nights, won't sleep more than a couple hours at a time, is all of the emotions that you can ever imagine all wrapped up into one beautiful real package that we are calling home right now. </div>
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So as I glanced through my photos I decided to just plunk them all down here all at once, in an effort to at least have a month in photos in one space so that I can look back here maybe a year from now when the dust has settled and my sleep deprivation has eased up a bit. I might be able to see more clearly through the fog of that newborn haze and actually more fully appreciate the small things that can sometimes pass us by. </div>
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I vowed to take more <i>every day</i> pictures this past month, so our kids could have snapshot memories of this time in their lives--specifically pictures of the small things that happen throughout our days....</div>
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like neighbourhood kids playing together, racing together, laughing together.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FGhTakhTiO0/WcfrAsUIF7I/AAAAAAAAdcY/HyeKi0b6SmgWuIh8nHMo8CuYlCBgaG8XACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FGhTakhTiO0/WcfrAsUIF7I/AAAAAAAAdcY/HyeKi0b6SmgWuIh8nHMo8CuYlCBgaG8XACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0902.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've vowed to take my camera out more often on our court as they play outside this year--because one day they'll gasp at how young and little they all once were.<br />
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So with the snap of my camera, I hope that they remember the impromptu piano recitals that took place in our playroom on a hot fall afternoon...</div>
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and the hours upon hours of biking and playing outside that they do--until the infamous sound of their parents voices calling them to come in for dinner can be heard. </div>
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I want our kids to remember the days of soaking in the pool...</div>
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and bathing baby dolls in Chloe's bath tub.<br />
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I want to remember this pretty red tuft of hair atop of Chloe's little head--just like Sophia once had before she turned blonde...because it's already starting to fall out, so it may not last long. </div>
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I want to remember the mounds of shoes found at our door each day as neighbourhood kids run into our house looking for popsicles and snacks--which I love. Because my house is your house.</div>
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I want to remember cousins playing with trains in our playroom,<br />
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quiet Lego creations...<br />
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and messy playroom days where Terry and I can hear a pin drop.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-inCtgkXnCq4/WcftrurBGdI/AAAAAAAAddQ/8ho1V5emhyUt9vSj5E7a6Y1LRCogr4vyQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-inCtgkXnCq4/WcftrurBGdI/AAAAAAAAddQ/8ho1V5emhyUt9vSj5E7a6Y1LRCogr4vyQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1015.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I want to remember the first day of school...</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I6fj9bTa0E0/WcftIHjopsI/AAAAAAAAddE/aKEJvdNeTdAJNfLkPJg7ghignL4EoYOvgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I6fj9bTa0E0/WcftIHjopsI/AAAAAAAAddE/aKEJvdNeTdAJNfLkPJg7ghignL4EoYOvgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0972.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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and after school snuggles.<br />
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I want to remember the really hard days when I feel like I can barely keep up...when I can barely see straight from lack of sleep, when babies won't stop crying, when kids need everything immediately, when planners need to be signed, piano practising needs to be done, French words need to be practised, Home Reading needs to be done, dinner isn't made, emotions from school are running high and no one wants to go to bed. Because some days, this is just real life. </div>
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So when I'm feeling like life is just too much on those days, I tend to try to create a little world of our own at home. I give us all something to look forward to--because in so many ways, happiness comes from the <i>anticipation </i>of something. Not always just the event itself.</div>
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So <i>Backwards Day</i> is coming up on Saturday, I told the kids one exhausting morning (as I literally made this up on the spot). </div>
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Everything will be backwards, I told them. So we'll have dinner for breakfast, snacks for lunch and breakfast for dinner. This will be AMAZING, I told them as I watched their eyes sparkle with anticipation. </div>
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And all of a sudden things felt okay again. Because Backwards Day was coming, and everyone was excited. </div>
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*nothing like chicken and peas for breakfast...<br />
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(apparently it's thrilling).<br />
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I want to remember 2yr olds who pull watermelons from our garden way too soon--and the thrill in her eyes that she had when she proudly announced to all of us that she found it (and I smiled excitedly for her on the outside, but silently cried inside after waiting so anxiously for that little watermelon to ripen to perfection).<br />
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I want to remember long <span style="text-align: center;">baths in our en suite...</span><br />
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and bedrooms completely taken over by baby.<br />
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And the never-ending Chloe-obsessed sister who just can't stop kissing her. </div>
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Because these are the real days. The good, the tough, the memorable ones, that I just don't want to forget.</div>
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Happy Thanksgiving everyone. </div>
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Erica xo</div>
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-8431794579981946602017-08-24T15:58:00.002-04:002017-08-24T21:43:12.838-04:00Butterfly Baby<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">I held Chloe tight in my arms as I scanned the restaurant for our table for 12 that was waiting for us. </span><br />
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We were on the last leg of our mini vacation to Niagara Falls, stopping off for one last dinner before heading home from our trip with our entire family.<br />
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I could feel the exhaustion of travelling with a newborn and lots of young kids setting in as we pulled up to the restaurant--hungry and tired, but happy from a fun few days away with everyone. <br />
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<br />
As I stepped towards the crowded tables and manoeuvred past fast moving waiters carrying trays of cold drinks, I could feel eyes on me in the dim light of the room.<br />
<br />
"Oh my", I heard from behind me, "she is beautiful". <br />
<br />
I turned my head to see an older gentleman staring at the tiny baby in my arms. His wavy hair filled with streaks of grey and deep wrinkles on his cheeks that moved when he smiled told a story of a life well lived. He wasn't much taller than me, so when I looked up to see who was talking to me, our eyes locked immediately.<br />
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I smiled back at him, "Thank you", I heard myself say as I ran my hand over the tiny body tucked in my arms.<br />
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"She looks so little, was she a preemie?" he asked with a curious, but warm smile.<br />
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"No, she was actually 6.1 pounds when we left the hospital" I told him, "and she's now a bit over 7 pounds".<br />
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"Oh, that's wonderful", he continued, "my daughter was so tiny at that age too--and we're now here celebrating her 25th birthday. Hard to believe. I really do remember her being that small all those years ago. She was actually a surviving twin, so this birthday somehow feels even that much more special".<br />
<br />
I could feel my heart stop for just a second and I lost my breath for a moment.<br />
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I looked down at my sweet girl and then looked back up at him again "She is a surviving twin too", I said quietly.<br />
<br />
His eyes instantly filled with tears. I mean, immediately.<br />
<br />
"Ohh...oh wow" he said between deep breaths. I watched as his body fell a bit limp and he moved towards me.<br />
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"Oh I'm so sorry", he continued, "it's just the hardest, isn't it? It's just so awful" and with a tear running down his cheek he pulled me in and gently hugged me, carefully wrapping his arms around me without touching the sleeping baby in my arms.<br />
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I was taken aback a bit, a little surprised at this stranger who all of a sudden had his arms wrapped around me as he cried--but it then odly felt okay, like I somehow knew him, like he was somehow familiar to me and like I somehow understood him.<br />
<i><br /></i>
Because, well <i>I did.</i><br />
<br />
I tried to look away as he gently pulled away from me, knowing that if I looked him in his tear filled eyes <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/2016/12/a-new-little-life-and-terrible-loss.html" target="_blank">the flood gates of my own grief would open</a>--and I wouldn't be able to close them. I would be standing in a packed restaurant, baby in arms, two sobbing strangers hugging each other while everyone stared at us, dumbfounded, wondering what on earth was going on. So I took a deep breath, and I told him I was so sorry for his loss as well.<br />
<br />
"You have a butterfly baby, a beautiful butterfly baby", he continued.<br />
<br />
I pretended like I knew what he was talking about.<br />
<br />
Then before I could even respond, a young girl with short dark hair that fell just below her shoulders interrupted us and the man quickly said to her "Look at this beautiful baby--she is a survivor, just like you". And he introduced me to his 25yr old daughter.<br />
<br />
She gushed over Chloe for a moment, then turned to her dad and put her hand on his shoulder--a gesture of comfort towards him that didn't need any words. She saw the tears in his eyes and understood why they were there.<br />
<br />
Twenty five years later, the grief was still raw.<br />
<br />
She pointed to her ankle where a tiny butterfly tattoo sat. "Just as a reminder of my twin that I unfortunately never got to know" she said.<br />
<br />
"It's beautiful", is all that I could muster.<br />
<br />
I felt like I was in a bit of a dream--this family grieving a loss that happened so long ago, combined with my fresh grief that I still haven't fully dealt with, standing in a packed restaurant that somehow all of a sudden felt incredibly quiet. I felt their pain and they felt mine--and as I stared at this girl with the butterfly tattoo it spun me ahead 25yrs, picturing what life will be like for Chloe as she thinks about her twin that she never had the chance to know.<br />
<br />
We left the restaurant that night after our plates were cleared away and we packed up the six kids, whose bellies were full and whose bodies were tired. And in the silence of the car ride home I looked up "butterfly baby" on my phone to find out what it meant.<br />
<br />
I scanned pictures of purple butterfly stickers stuck to baby bassinets and incubators in hospitals. It turns out that hospitals will sometimes place purple butterfly stickers on the bassinets or incubators of babies who are twins/triplets or multiples yet who lost a sibling. This way nurses, visitors or people passing through will know the story of the baby before even meeting him/her and the parents won't have to explain their loss over and over again and those around her will understand if the parents are extra emotional or need some space to grieve.<br />
<br />
I immediately thought back to the moment when I was sitting at the edge of my hospital bed, <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/2017/08/chloes-birth-story-and-life-at-home-now.html" target="_blank">cradling Chloe in my arms and sobbing</a>--then feeling like I had to hide my tears as a new nurse walked into the room since I just didn't want to have to explain myself. I wish that I had had a purple butterfly sticker that day.<br />
<br />
So to Chloe, our butterfly baby, we love you. We loved both you and your twin from the first moment that we saw those two beautiful sacs, side by side and those beautiful baby heartbeats that were once so strong together. And as that stranger in the restaurant taught me that day, life moves on--Chloe will one day be that 25yr old girl celebrating her special day with her family. But you never forget the pain from that loss.<br />
<br />
Even 25yr later.<br />
<br />
Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-57460696445618187032017-08-10T13:49:00.003-04:002017-08-10T13:49:42.681-04:00When motherhood calls for chocolate<br />
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I polished off a handful of Smarties the other day--letting each and every one of them melt slowly in my mouth, trying to extend that moment of bliss and distraction that only something like chocolate can bring.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jihcwlOO2g0/WYtqh7exejI/AAAAAAAAc1w/vPE8lphiw7cAqC66TiKp2do_m3Hz2n03ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jihcwlOO2g0/WYtqh7exejI/AAAAAAAAc1w/vPE8lphiw7cAqC66TiKp2do_m3Hz2n03ACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0723.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I've tried to not touch this type of food since Chloe was born--trying desperately to eat healthy and lose the 20lbs left from when this tiny babe grew inside of my body only a few weeks ago. Happily watching each passing day as my once large, round belly housing the most miraculous living miracle slowly goes back to normal, eliminating any evidence of the life that once grew there.<br />
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Isn't it strange though how we do this? How in a matter of days, we go from proudly rubbing our beautiful round bellies, to delivering our babies and then somehow desperately trying to wash away any remnants of this time in our lives?<br />
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I still remember getting out of the shower in the hospital just hours after Chloe was born, looking down at my deflated stomach and thinking "dear God, I forgot about this part". So I was determined from the day that she was born to follow suit with every other pregnancy that I've had to lose the weight--every last pound before baby turns one. I've done it successfully with Mya, Carter and Sophia and I'm just as determined with Chloe. But the other day, those Smarties were calling my name and I caved into that emotional eating craving--because the reality of having 4 little kids and one very sleep deprived mama is that some days chocolate is the only thing that will get you to bedtime.<br />
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When everyone is being too loud, when 2yr olds are having meltdowns over anything, when kids are bickering over nothing and when I'm tripping over toys with every step I take, sometimes it's okay to treat yourself to a little chocolate...even when the scale still annoyingly says <i>20 more pounds mama</i>. <br />
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So I'll keep my little stash of Smarties hidden high up on the top shelf, where I'll hopefully forget about them--but where they'll never really be too far from the grasp of my desperate hands on those tough days that motherhood inevitably sometimes brings.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mS4oic8dasM/WYtiT6E_YAI/AAAAAAAAc0g/xM14nB_hGikkBSy8DLh3teb2LpUyYNZ8wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mS4oic8dasM/WYtiT6E_YAI/AAAAAAAAc0g/xM14nB_hGikkBSy8DLh3teb2LpUyYNZ8wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0281.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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But, in saying this--although some hard days of parenting are certainly going to happen (that's a guarantee), I have also learned that nothing lasts forever. There will be days when kids will give you grey hair, and there will be days when you'll feel like Superwoman--able to pull off every last detail of motherhood like a champ.<br />
<br />
So I take the great days and hold onto them. I breathe them in and savour them. I sit back and pinch myself, wondering how we got so lucky to have four beautifully healthy children who we adore more than life itself. And even late at night, when it's just Chloe and I in the dark of the night, I hold her after nursing her back to sleep and I just feel grateful. Sleep deprived and all.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHSGBJlMP60/WYtjo9n7x-I/AAAAAAAAc04/8x12-RjCOKseigZJM5TA-dDttDtfJZQOwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHSGBJlMP60/WYtjo9n7x-I/AAAAAAAAc04/8x12-RjCOKseigZJM5TA-dDttDtfJZQOwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0645.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So we go on adventures, just the kids and I, when I'm feeling like I got this..I can handle this. Four kids 6yrs old and under? Whatever. No problem.<br />
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We slather sunscreen on, pack everything but the kitchen sink into a diaper bag, bring half of our kitchen in snacks and pile into our van to try to create a day that the kids will remember. <br />
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And when dad is home on the weekend, we take off to places like the beach and indoor playgrounds where kids come home drained and ready for bed.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3qrqFzsKUWM/WYthugLgIbI/AAAAAAAAc0Y/YLNIFsBKI2wN8EQs7MZT1F2Cch5afjLUwCLcBGAs/s1600/20638224_10158976291425276_4916461045489489550_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3qrqFzsKUWM/WYthugLgIbI/AAAAAAAAc0Y/YLNIFsBKI2wN8EQs7MZT1F2Cch5afjLUwCLcBGAs/s640/20638224_10158976291425276_4916461045489489550_n.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Which is absolute perfection.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iDr8cEzSXX0/WYtkSBkTMZI/AAAAAAAAc1E/HTqQq3qaRqgdwhd5lclYIvcBRCrEE-LhgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iDr8cEzSXX0/WYtkSBkTMZI/AAAAAAAAc1E/HTqQq3qaRqgdwhd5lclYIvcBRCrEE-LhgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0701.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NlfpN-JB6Kc/WYtkKuGUkeI/AAAAAAAAc1A/iJxIs7hVxyEunBOTJFDSgS2Wf-eIO4zcQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NlfpN-JB6Kc/WYtkKuGUkeI/AAAAAAAAc1A/iJxIs7hVxyEunBOTJFDSgS2Wf-eIO4zcQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0698.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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And during those moments when I'm feeling exhausted or overwhelmed--when I'm bouncing a crying baby while trying to get dinner on the table and clean up the spilt milk on the floor, I'll dream of those Smarties stashed away in my cupboard and know that they'll always have my name on them. Because chocolate should always be hidden in every parents cupboard.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mwg0G97XTfA/WYtjEQIyWXI/AAAAAAAAc0s/iAlsWOlux5IPc6YKNKhvoKIYG5C7FnSIwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mwg0G97XTfA/WYtjEQIyWXI/AAAAAAAAc0s/iAlsWOlux5IPc6YKNKhvoKIYG5C7FnSIwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0536.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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That's for sure.<br />
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cs6Y1h6NKr8/WYtio_Kq-UI/AAAAAAAAc0k/jOqfn9iF3UkVazrW0vGlL9k0Bc1yt7EtwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cs6Y1h6NKr8/WYtio_Kq-UI/AAAAAAAAc0k/jOqfn9iF3UkVazrW0vGlL9k0Bc1yt7EtwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0470.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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And maybe a little ice cream in the freezer too. Just in case. </div>
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Happy Thursday everyone. One more day 'til the weekend!! </div>
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Erica xox</div>
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-72860624702012308372017-08-03T21:44:00.001-04:002017-08-03T21:44:11.976-04:00Chloe's birth story and life at home now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our girl is home. </div>
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Sweet baby Chloe Isabella made her grand entrance into the world on July 12th and she has completely stolen our hearts.</div>
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It's been three weeks now since we brought her home--three weeks now since I felt those unbelievable pains that made us jump into the car and race to the hospital and three weeks since our household has gained one more tiny sibling to love on. </div>
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A sibling so tiny that she actually fits perfectly into their beloved baby doll crib--just for kicks. </div>
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And a sibling who is so adored that our biggest issue since coming home has been trying to give Chloe time to sleep without constant little hands and kisses all over her. </div>
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But with that said, these past three weeks have flown by and I feel like I barely have a minute to breathe, barely have a second to sleep, barely have a minute alone, barely have a minute to even write an email--let alone write in this space of mine. But I want to make sure that I remember the details...remember the moments, remember the feelings of how it all began. Because I just don't want to forget.</div>
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So here it is...Chloe's birth story.</div>
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****</div>
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So there are rules, you see. Rules of labour. </div>
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Rules that I didn't even know were rules until I had my first baby back when labour was an unknown mystery that I was about to experience. It was a time when I went into it expecting that Terry and I would follow the protocol of him rubbing my back, talking me through the contractions, holding my hand and wiping the hair out of my eyes--all lovingly, and supportive as good husbands should. </div>
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And then I experienced labour for the first time, and all of that went right out the window. </div>
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Instead of asking Terry to lovingly hold my hand or rub my arm as a contraction whipped around my body, I found myself telling him to <i>please don't touch me AT ALL. </i>Every touch radiated pain somehow throughout my body, and every loving word of support and encouragement distracted me and irritated me. </div>
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<i>I can do this on my own. Thank you very much for your help...but I'm good. </i></div>
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So the rules of labour began--no touching, no talking. Just sit there. The doctors will let you know when it's time to cut the cord. </div>
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So after debriefing the nurses about his crazy wife's rules "just so they don't think I'm a jerk ignoring you" Terry told me, he stood there and followed protocol, like the champ that he is. </div>
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**insert picture of me in full blown raging labour--one blonde pouf of hair to prove my existence in this photo, and Terry fulfilling his duties as perfect supportive husband, doing exactly as I asked. </div>
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It all began though as dinner was fast approaching on that July 12th afternoon and the achy feelings of pain in my stomach and back started to creep up on me. </div>
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"The moment you feel an ounce of pain, you need to rush to the hospital" my OB kept telling me throughout this pregnancy. </div>
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"Have clean towels ready", he told me "just in case Terry has to deliver this baby in your living room". </div>
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Because, you see, Sophia was born 40 minutes from the time that I had my first contraction with her--so every nurse, OB and doctor since then has told me that the next baby could come just as fast, or even faster this time around.</div>
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So as that first real jolt of pain crept throughout my body, I got on the phone and called my parents--who were at my house in a heartbeat, and then I called my sister who ran two doors over from her house and swung my front door open, ready to push me out to my car. </div>
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"I just want to wait for one more contraction to make sure that these are real" I said, not wanting to waste all of our time if I was sent home with false labour. </div>
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"Are you kidding me?!" I heard my sister say "GET IN THE CAR!!" </div>
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"Just give me a minute, I'll wait it out until another one comes, just to be sure" I said. </div>
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"TERRY, GET HER IN THE CAR!!"</div>
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And as another contraction, ten times stronger than the one that I just had whipped through my body, I listened to my wise sister and bolted for the driveway. </div>
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"This is definitely it--and it's happening fast" I told Terry as I held onto the side of the door as he raced as quickly as he could to the hospital. The pain was unreal already--<a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/2015/04/its-girl-sophias-birth-story.html" target="_blank">exactly as it was when Sophia came so quickly</a>. No build up, no time to breathe...just intense, wildly painful contractions, coming one after another quickly. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rn4BFkL1Xls/WXOMBDWcARI/AAAAAAAAcvY/RV-DOIKJnCQBdv1bi6cMAmkK7vQlToTzACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rn4BFkL1Xls/WXOMBDWcARI/AAAAAAAAcvY/RV-DOIKJnCQBdv1bi6cMAmkK7vQlToTzACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0340.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So as he sped up to the hospital doors, I slammed the door behind me and yelled to Terry "I'll meet you upstairs!".<br />
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"I'm in labour and this baby is coming fast" I said to the receptionist in triage as I held onto the front desk as another wild contraction took over my body.<br />
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"Ok, just have a seat over there in those chairs and we'll be with you shortly", the receptionist said to me with the same calm demeanor as if I just told her that I'd like to buy a cookie.<br />
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I looked at her like she was crazy--then took a seat, waiting 2 minutes until the next contraction took hold of me...calmly waiting for her reaction from it.<br />
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And then I smiled as I quickly heard her panicked voice yell over to me "Would the lady in labour please go into triage right now!!"<br />
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I felt the needle go into my arm as they started the IV, and Terry stood over me as they explained "You're only 4cm dilated, so we have some time".<br />
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I looked at the nurse between contractions and explained to her "So, just so you know, when my last baby was born they told me that I was 4cm and then my water broke seconds later and the baby's head was out--as I was in the hallway".<br />
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She didn't seem too concerned.<br />
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"Can you get into this wheelchair and we'll take you to a room?"<br />
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I could barely see straight the contractions were coming so fast---"Um...no"<br />
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"Wheel her out!" I heard another nurse say as another unbelievable contraction came, and all of a sudden I was being pushed in the bed down the hallway towards bright lights. <br />
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My sister was all of a sudden in the room with us and moments after rushing me in I heard her say "I see her head Erica! I see her head!".<br />
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And with a couple insane<span style="text-align: center;">ly intense pushes, we had our girl.</span><br />
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This tiny little bean. Sweet baby Chloe.<br />
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We called our parents just moments after she was born and they all trickled in to get some baby cuddles.<br />
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And after two nights of staying at the hospital, we were finally given the green light that we could take her home. So we started packing up our belongings and folding up our clothes when it really hit me. I held this sweet little girl in my arms, the most precious gift we could ever be given and I sobbed. </div>
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Terry put his arms around me and without me even saying a word about why I was crying he said "I know...I know. I knew this moment of going home would be hard. And it is" and he kissed my tear streaked cheeks. </div>
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Because he felt it too. The joy of bringing our baby home meant that <a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/2016/12/a-new-little-life-and-terrible-loss.html" target="_blank">the grief from the loss of her twin</a> was all of a sudden so real again. When we once thought we'd be holding two babies that day in our arms and carrying two car seats down those hospital hallways, the grief from the loss of her sibling all of a sudden became incredibly raw. <br />
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So we took a moment to feel it as we held our sweet baby girl tight in our arms, and then packed up the rest of our things and headed for the car.<br />
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We made our way home where we were welcomed with cute little hand made signs, balloons and a lot of eager little people who couldn't wait to see their new sister and cousin.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PUDvPbB2QgA/WXOQN2z8joI/AAAAAAAAcwc/I9biVsChh3086k7uD2fr8ghRWEBlBRVSwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PUDvPbB2QgA/WXOQN2z8joI/AAAAAAAAcwc/I9biVsChh3086k7uD2fr8ghRWEBlBRVSwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0557.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">**p.s. if you're pregnant, have you picked up one of these Baby Boxes? They're now available in Canada and when I was given one I honestly didn't think I'd use it--but now that Chloe is here we use is all the time. It's a box with a soft little mattress for the baby to nap in, and they fill it with all sorts of baby products for you to get started with your new baby. Just FYI.</span><br />
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And what would be better than newborn baby dolls for all the girls and new toys for the boys too for the day that Chloe came home. Thanks Nana! </div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1FhpbUeI90/WXOPO2NHsII/AAAAAAAAcwM/FawcoHirqO05pc06aYmq06NcE5bWViunQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1FhpbUeI90/WXOPO2NHsII/AAAAAAAAcwM/FawcoHirqO05pc06aYmq06NcE5bWViunQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0504.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So life has changed around here. Life is full and busy, and tiring and great. It is full of kids who can't get enough time with their new sister--who beg to hold her all day long. Who kiss her constantly, who love on her all day long, who fight over who got to hold her the longest and who love to help with every last detail of caring for her.<br />
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We have 2yr old Sophia who gives us a play-by-play all day long of what Chloe is doing or what she notices about her....<br />
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"Chloe yawning...she sleeping...she crying...she SO tiny...she has little feet...she so little...she so cute"<br />
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But it's also a life now that is full of incredible sleep deprivation, a mom who is trying to heal her achy body, trying to keep everything afloat, keep meals on the table, keep up with mounds of laundry and cleaning and keep life moving for the kids.<br />
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Because that's just the life of a mom.<br />
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And to be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way.<br />
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Love you sweet Chloe. Welcome to the family.<br />
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Erica xox<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-6916598725422779312017-07-07T14:12:00.000-04:002017-07-07T14:17:59.304-04:00School is out for summer--and baby is on her way<br />
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So this is the week. The week that this baby is supposed to arrive. The week when the pains will come fast and fierce with great unpredictability and we'll all of a sudden bring a new little life into this world that will undoubtedly turn our world upside down--in a good way.<br />
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It's also the week when anxiety is running like wild fire through our house, with the unknown of how or when this baby is going to come. With the constant reminders from doctors, OB's and everyone in between who predict and have prepared me that since Sophia came within 40mins of the first contraction--<a href="http://beautifullifemadeeasy.blogspot.ca/2015/04/its-girl-sophias-birth-story.html" target="_blank">running down the hospital hallway as she delivered herself-</a>-that this baby will follow suit, but even faster. Dreams of me pulling over on the side of the road and delivering a baby on the grass have haunted me for weeks, or lying on my living room floor with 3 little worried children surrounding me as we call 911 is causing my heart to pound in the middle of the night. So anxiety is definitely running high, and everyone is feeling it.<br />
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So as I sweep my feelings under the rug for the time being, I had a moment today of <i>it's going to be okay</i> as I looked through some of the pictures on my camera that I had taken over the past few months. It somehow reminded me that life will play out as it's supposed to, things will fall into place eventually and these crazy moments of worrying and anxiety will eventually be a distant memory.<br />
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So this post is really just for me--to remind myself of the simple things that are a good distraction from my worry, and to remind my brain to stop thinking and panicking. To just look back and smile at the little things that we have done recently that have nothing to do with racing to the hospital, babies being born in hallways or living rooms or on the side of the road.<br />
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So here we go...a little fun on the last day of school. <br />
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I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to be there for this event since I wasn't sure when baby was going to come--but I decided to at least plan it anyways and hope for the best (and ask for the help that I definitely needed this year in order to get all of the details ready and heavy pieces set up that day-thank you neighbours!). So I sent out invites to all of our wonderful neighbours and started putting things into place. And as the kids got off the bus on the last day of school they all ran up our court to trees full of balloons and streamers, music blasting, food galore, water guns, a slip n' slide, a sprinkler and kiddie pool all ready and all sorts of games and activities set out for them.<br />
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Because school is out for summer. So it's time to celebrate.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ardNkpmtkNk/WVw11Ai8qwI/AAAAAAAActY/r598a5l8_DICSnDBj_PaOu9wPNy64cYTwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ardNkpmtkNk/WVw11Ai8qwI/AAAAAAAActY/r598a5l8_DICSnDBj_PaOu9wPNy64cYTwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0222.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So kids got drenched with water guns...<br />
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adults hung out and caught up with each other over treats and drinks...<br />
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kids ran around to all of the activities...<br />
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and a huge water balloon fight began...<br />
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which was topped off with an ice cream bar, full of delicious toppings and yummy waffle cones for everyone.<br />
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And then just when we thought the party was winding down for the night...the big kids found the horse shoe game and the party kept rolling.<br />
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So summer has officially begun. And if I've learned anything from being a mom for the past 6yrs it's that it really doesn't take a lot to thrill kids and make some great childhood memories for them. So, with a little effort, a bit of coordinating and some very willing neighbours, I'm hoping that this is something that all of the kids will look back on and remember from their childhood one day.<br />
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And although I do have to reign myself in sometimes--since I'm more of a <i>go big or go home</i> kinda gal...I have learned that it's always the little things that mean the most to kids. So as I scrolled through the pictures on my camera last night and started to sort them all, I came across our Valentine's Day pictures from this year, which made me smile as I remembered how excited they were about the little love hunt that I put together for them around our house. Because a few hearts cut out of construction paper, leading them around the house to find the next clue meant that their little childhood memory box was filling up--<br />
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with such little effort on my part...<br />
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and cheap, yet thrilling treasures at the end of it all.<br />
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So as I think about the reality of our family in a week...having 4 kids 6yrs old and under...I'll remind myself of the truth of parenting: A little means a lot. A bit of effort can create the best childhood memories.<br />
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And on the hard days? Well, I'll remind myself that chocolate will always be in the cupboard.<br />
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Always.<br />
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Happy summer everyone!! Keep your fingers crossed for no baby on the side of the road. Please!!<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-51691153462146552562017-04-16T21:14:00.001-04:002017-04-16T21:37:01.966-04:00Easter exhaustion <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So here is what I've learned for sure after today...</div>
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make 3 signs next time.</div>
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Never just one.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gI7VWx3OinI/WPPRr77zHOI/AAAAAAAAcpo/aN4w1gXe3Fkwaw28dpl0aiTG9rugYiFmwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gI7VWx3OinI/WPPRr77zHOI/AAAAAAAAcpo/aN4w1gXe3Fkwaw28dpl0aiTG9rugYiFmwCLcB/s640/IMG_0213.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because just when you think you'll actually be able to get all of the kids in the shot as you're rushing out the door in the morning, and just as you scribble <i>29 weeks</i> on that piece of paper...you ask the dreaded question "Who wants to hold the sign?"...and all hell breaks loose. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w9kxkv58YQQ/WPPQlZNthTI/AAAAAAAAcpU/9WXcpw8_J-A4liAJ2J8WEH126Zj-jo_kgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w9kxkv58YQQ/WPPQlZNthTI/AAAAAAAAcpU/9WXcpw8_J-A4liAJ2J8WEH126Zj-jo_kgCLcB/s640/IMG_0184.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And you start to lose kids. </div>
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One by one.</div>
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Until you're down to just 2 kids.</div>
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And then finally just one. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X5L93kx7xGs/WPP-vIqb5dI/AAAAAAAAcqI/LHiUtSt5KikebumYFDuCwOiTbQjRqtLLgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X5L93kx7xGs/WPP-vIqb5dI/AAAAAAAAcqI/LHiUtSt5KikebumYFDuCwOiTbQjRqtLLgCLcB/s640/IMG_0192.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So 3 signs next time is key. </div>
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Clearly. </div>
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And as I walked up the stairs tonight with Sophia in my arms and Mya and Carter trailing behind me I heard this little voice behind me say "Poor mommy", and Terry and I laughed as we realized that even little 4yr old Carter had noticed that the weekend had finally worn his mom out. My slow movements climbing those stairs was enough to make this little boy notice. </div>
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Because the weekend was great--it definitely was.<br />
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But it's finally worn this 7 month pregnant lady out...and my spot on the couch was calling me tonight after we put everyone to bed.<br />
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The weekend was packed--completely jammed full of Easter fun and Sophia's 2nd birthday all wrapped up into just a couple of days. And it started with Friday morning, when 24 neighbour kids and their parents showed up on our court to take part in a big Easter egg hunt that I decided to put together just weeks in advance.<br />
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So my living room floor looked like this about a week ago, late at night, as I sorted through and organized piles of treats for all of the kids--making sure that every child got the exact same amount in the end (because tears at an Easter egg hunt are just not allowed).<br />
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And if you build it--they really will come.<br />
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And they'll search all over our court and through everyone's yards for those precious treats that we hid early that morning...</div>
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checking their treasure hunt papers that I had made for each child--letting them know exactly what treats they needed to find and how many of each they were to search for.<br />
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So everyone's baskets were full in the end...<br />
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and everyone's bellies were full as we all piled food and treats onto the tables for everyone to share.<br />
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Then just as we cleaned up the last of the tables and put away the last of the juice boxes from the morning, we packed up the kids and headed to my parents house to celebrate our little Sophia's 2nd birthday that same afternoon, while throwing in our big family Easter dinner in there as well.<br />
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So at 10pm the night before, I finished making Sophia's birthday cake--four layers of melt-in-your- mouth deliciousness wrapped in chocolate...with a cute little bunny placed on top.<br />
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And the rest of the weekend? Well...these kids woke up this morning to our house full of Easter treats, ready to be found by little hands. </div>
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And then ready to be sorted, one by one, so that everyone of course was left with the same amount in the end. Because remember the rule...no tears after an Easter egg hunt. <br />
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So mom is tired, but happy.<br />
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Because it's all worth it in the end. Worth all of the planning, worth all of the work, worth all of the exhaustion, worth all of the too-much-candy-too-much-excitement meltdowns, because it's childhood memories in the making...and so it's worth every minute of it. <br />
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Happy Easter everyone!<br />
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Go take a rest now. You deserve it.<br />
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Erica xo<br />
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<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4061933332187928032.post-85029902607157763162017-03-23T22:12:00.002-04:002017-03-23T22:15:37.522-04:00We brought 6 kids to Disney World and lived to tell the tale <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay, so technically there were 5 kids that were actually running around. But anyone who has been 6 months pregnant hauling bags and strollers through hours and hours of walking through Disney World, keeping track of lots of kids while climbing onto buses and maneuvering through massive crowds would tell you that that 6th kid still tucked away inside my belly definitely gets credit for being there. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">But we made it. We got suitcases packed, we got everyone onto the plane... </span></div>
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we figured out how to sleep with all 5 of us in one hotel room and we set off for a wild week of fun, magic, delicious food and adventure at the happiest place on Earth.<br />
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There were princesses galore...<br />
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and Mickey sightings everywhere.<br />
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There were characters like Prince Charming who showed up at our dinner table...<br />
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and Cinderella who followed close behind (while Sophia clearly wasn't impressed with Cinderella's pop by visit!).<br />
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But Donald Duck? Well, he was somehow less scary than beautiful, soft spoken, loving Cinderella!<br />
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There were incredible live shows with dancing and singing and unbelievable costumes.<br />
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There were personal visits with superstars like Elsa...<br />
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and Anna of course.<br />
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And incredibly over-priced stuffed animals and toys that were right at arms reach for any kid passing through. <br />
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There were aquariums full of beautiful fish, sharks and other sea creatures...<br />
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and spontaneous naps that we clung onto as long as they would last.<br />
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There were delicious dinners cooked right in front of us...<br />
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freezing cold days that made us feel like we were back in Canada again...<br />
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and rides that made us laugh out loud when we got the pics back. *if you look long enough at the faces on the right, you'll laugh too...and then there's Terry in the back who thinks he's on a major roller coaster.<br />
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And the rest? Well, I'll let the rest of the pictures tell the story of our days at Disney...</div>
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But also let me tell you...as much as these pictures show how fabulous a time we had, we didn't take pictures of us popping cookies into kids mouths to keep them from whining and complaining about having to wait in crazy long lines everywhere we went.<br />
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And we didn't take pictures of the overly tired, overwhelmed kids who each had their meltdown moments at some point during the week. Because Disney World might be the happiest place on Earth, but it's certainly not immune to the childhood meltdown (as noted as we walked past countless kids losing it on their magical vacation, and smiled understandingly at their exhausted parents). <br />
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But fun? It still certainly was!!<br />
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It was worth the crazy crowds where we thanked our travel agent for recommending strollers "just in case" for every child to sit in---because safety in huge crowds meant that we strapped all of the kids in and plowed through thousands of people knowing that we had every little person safely with us.<br />
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It was worth the many hours that my sister spent sewing and making Mickey shirts for all of the adults, and Disney character shirts and outfits for all of the kids (like Mya as Snow white, Carter's Incrediblel's shirt and Scarlett's Mulan outfit).<br />
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And we forgot all about the fact that Sophia cried most of the plan ride home when I saw the pictures of our excited kids with the pilot right before take off. </div>
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So we made it, our little family of ours. We took all 11 of us (well, 12 of us to be precise)--and made it to the happiest place on Earth. We made memories that the kids will talk about for years to come, we saw magic happen right before our eyes and we ultimately had a wonderfully amazing trip together. </div>
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And when we got home? Well, forget the millions of loads of laundry that had to be done--I chose to procrastinate by doing a little treat-making instead. </div>
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Because after a trip like Disney World with 6 kids, you really need a vacation. </div>
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Erica xo</div>
<br />Ericahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17969969949070987793noreply@blogger.com0