tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509849972139396562024-03-15T21:09:58.924-04:00Isn't She Lovelyraising children - raising ourselves Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.comBlogger576125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-219033293959067442016-10-18T22:13:00.000-04:002016-10-18T22:19:03.918-04:00CampingLife is so furiously quick. Days and weeks and months are flying by and I long for the slow, the easy, and the still. Not the still where you get nervous that your two year old just filled the toilet with all of the toilet paper.....again. But, the still where you can see things so closely and clearly that it makes you nervous you may never feel that way again. Like in this picture. I looked at her in the tent under the trees where the sun played tricks on my very tired eyes. I looked at her and saw myself in a tent years ago daydreaming about what I would be someday. And in that same instant I saw the daydreamer in her. I saw the girl with all of the feelings and all of the uncertainty about how to handle them, but also the girl who is fierce and competitive and intense.<br />
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When I go camping it would seem that the entire point is to escape. The idea is to get closer to nature, and yet I love a tent. It seems weird that the tent would be the part I love the most. I have vivid memories of my sister at this age climbing on me and playing around in our big canvas Coleman monstrosity of a tent as kids. This is saying quite a lot because I have a terrible memory. But that spunky little two year old popped up in my mind as I watched my own two year old throw diapers all over the place and laugh hysterically. He is all adventure, all fun, and all mess. We chased him around our campsites as best we could, but when trapped in the tent I could just watch him be silly. I could laugh at how he marveled at our strange home with paper thin walls and windows that unzip. </div>
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I didn't get a shot of Lila in the tent mostly because she isn't the type to just hang out in one spot for more than a few minutes. But camping, like hiking, speaks to her in a way that I hope lasts her entire life. She told me it was the greatest place she had ever been. As campgrounds go, it was pretty basic. But to her, the whole weekend was like coming home. It was carefree and messy. She could wear shoes, or not. She could make up games and shows with her friends and tell ghost stories in hammocks. She could roast the perfect marshmallow or just eat a ton of them as they are. She could be Lila without the expectation of anything else. </div>
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We struggled a little (due to my poor planning) to find a campsite the day we headed North. Seth was already ahead of us and trying to sort things out, and once he finally got to our inevitable destination, he set up the new tent I purchased. It was a Wal-Mart special. This means that I purchased it just days before we left knowing that we absolutely needed a tent that could actually, comfortably fit all five us without breaking the bank. I don't love Wal-Mart, but this is the sort of situation it was made for. Someday we will have a vehicle of some kind that we escape to nature in. For now, this inexpensive beauty is just a newer, albeit cheaper in all of the ways, version of that big canvas Coleman from my childhood. Seth texted me these pictures and told me he was pretty sure his car could fit in it. That's when I knew I made the right choice. </div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Seth and I love a good trip to the outdoors. In fact, if I had it my way we would live there full time somehow. Until then, Seth puts up with my constant desire to go camping and I think he loves it too once it's all said and done. We were fortunate enough to have some friends along for this trip, and it couldn't have been more perfect. </span></span></div>
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Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com194tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-83094165314055625042016-03-09T22:23:00.000-05:002016-03-09T23:14:19.671-05:00The day the cooking show changed everything Not too long ago I was sitting, staring at my first blonde haired, blue eyed baby thinking about how she wouldn't watch TV until she was at least 3 (and even then only 10 minutes at a time), wouldn't dare eat Goldfish (only Cheddar Bunnies here), and would certainly never misbehave like those other kids on the playground. I think about those days of blissful ignorance mashed with completely idiotic goals. I also often think about what it's like to be a new mom for the first time. I feel half sad for myself to never get to be her again and half overjoyed at how much easier life is when you stop giving so much of a shit.<br />
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We still only eat Cheddar Bunnies. But that's only because they are honestly better. I should know. I eat them for breakfast sometimes.<br />
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Fast forward to now. My brilliantly talented friend Patty, who also happens to be a gem in the kitchen, told me about this little show called The Great British Baking Show. She is a part of the culinary world and she raved about this show. Her seemingly simple review of a Netflix bingeing option gave me the most brilliant of ideas.....this is a show I could actually enjoy watching WITH my children. The Food Network and the like aren't exactly known for their offensive material right?<br />
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Could I possibly do away with My Little Pony? Is there an end in sight to the horrendous Barbie show (which I forbid and they watch with babysitters behind my back)?<br />
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Enter the day the cooking show changed everything.<br />
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I don't love to cook. I would even go so far as to say I don't like to cook. It's a necessary evil that doesn't seem to be leaving my world anytime soon. But, I do love a good competition and I do love sitting quietly snuggled up on the couch. So one day I was all, "hey guys let's watch this show about baking". One Great British Baking Show, too many Cupcake Wars to count, and half a Food Truck Race later my daughters are cooking show junkies. And I don't even care. In fact, I'm ecstatic. I certainly can't teach them to cook. To me I am doing their future partner in life a favor. I know, I know. That's like saying Caillou will single handedly teach them to get along and share. I am not delusional. I prefer optimistic.<br />
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In all transparency, I may even use cooking shows as bribery. "Clean up the house so we can watch the next Food Truck!". "As long as you guys get along for the rest of the day we could watch TWO episodes!!". At least I'm not bribing with actual cupcakes right? I mean, that happens too sometimes. But this happens more and is oddly more effective.<br />
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Truly though, I love doing this with my kids. I love getting into the show with them. Who will win? Who makes the best looking food? We talk and chat and they may have even cried once when someone had to go home. Don't worry. We discussed that part too.<br />
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Then there's the matter of the little baby brother who has basically never watched television unless it's sitting next to a sister watching what she wants (which means he is simply harassing her the whole time). I was a little concerned about how to navigate his participation, but he is a rockstar third child. I don't know why I even gave it a second thought. He snuggles up like he is down for some serious baking every single time. He may even get really excited when I say, "come on Holden it's time to watch the show!". I just bring an assortment of extra remotes, random toys and books, and sometimes a snack if things get hairy and he's completely on board. It's magical, see?<br />
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Don't worry. My next "we do this as a family" post will be about hiking. We do ALL of the hiking. We aren't complete couch potatoes.Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-90853125263524767462016-03-06T22:33:00.001-05:002016-03-06T22:33:28.795-05:00Being GratefulThis blog used to be a life line for me. The good, the bad, and the unbearably ugly forced into words made me feel better instantly. Writing gave me therapy when there wasn't time (or money) to set up shop on a therapist's couch. Talking about motherhood gave me a chance to scream into the universe, "I hear you, I see you, I am you and I get it". Talking about children is what I've always done, even before I had my own. Fleshing out the grief of loss and depression in this safe space saved my soul so. many. times.<br />
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And now here I am. One day I moved through the grief and depression and simply started living the chaotic life of a mom of three, wearing a million hats at every turn. My how things can morph into something else before you know it. I started thinking, "why don't I write anymore?". What happened to that nagging NEED to get the words out? Where did it go?<br />
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I told myself someday it would come back, or not, and either would be okay. Today it occurred to me that I've spent a lot of time here writing about what scared me, what frustrated me, what is hysterical/amazing/terrifying about parenting, and what felt like daggers after death hit my world. Today I realized it's time to talk about being grateful. That's where I'm at and it feels more than good. It feels miraculous and perfect. When I did finally hit the therapist's couch with a resounding thud this is something she taught me. She said, "being grateful will bring you back to who you want to be". <br />
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And again, now here I am.<br />
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I am grateful for a husband who suggests driving two hours to walk across a swinging bridge and hike a mountain with three small children...no matter how insane that sounds.<br />
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I am grateful for finally feeling capable of changing our lifestyle to be our own with the best of generations past and leaving behind the worst. As a parent, this has been a welcomed realization. We don't have to be conservative just because that's what our family has always been. We can put kindness and others first before money and self preservation simply because that's what humans should do. We can exercise every day and eat to live instead of living to eat. Better yet, we can teach our children this lifestyle so they aren't set up for failure...so that maybe they will be the first not to die young.<br />
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I am grateful for healthy children who climb mountains with us even if we have to talk them through it the entire time.<br />
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I am grateful for a home that gives us shelter, even in tight living quarters, while we teach our children that being well traveled and seeing the world is far more important than any other thing they could own or have.<br />
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I am grateful for friends who teach me how to be me when motherhood seems to squash the mother into oblivion.<br />
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I am grateful for the most mundane things like fresh vegetables, a cold beer, and a quiet house. I am grateful for new music, new waterfalls we haven't seen yet, and new recipes that sometimes get a resounding "yes!" instead of grimaces and whining.<br />
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Most of all I am grateful for this season of my life. This time where everything feels like too much....too much this, that, and everything else that has to be done when you have a big family to keep up with and tend to. This too much of everything is a full life and a glorious gift.<br />
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Thanks for joining me on my sappy, nostalgic walk. I'm hoping to return to the hysterical and the absurd, the boring and overly chaotic, and the best music I can find very soon here. Stay tuned.Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-9434770660121209772015-11-05T11:42:00.000-05:002015-11-05T11:42:41.353-05:00I gotta get freeeeeeeLast night Seth and I attended the first of three concerts for us this holiday season, and <i>it was glorious</i>.<br />
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For me, live music is equal to travel. I can't seem to go without it for long, and when I do experience it I feel like a new person.<br />
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We pride ourselves a little on finding someone we love before they get big. Ticket prices are cheap and venues are small and intimate. And, the bonus happens when the opening act is almost as good as the person you came to see. This was the case last night. We experienced a true one man band in Bernhoft. This video gives a small taste of what this guy can do.<br />
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Then, Allen Stone and his entourage made us feel like we were at a party at their house. He even came out into the crowd while singing and started hugging people. He spoke about living in the live music moment far from You Tube and Facebook. It was and incredibly refreshing really good time.<br />
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Music goes back a long way for me. I grew up with some serious musical talent in my life. My dad would come home from work and sit down at the piano or pick up a guitar and play for however long it took to release the stress of the day. I had no idea at the time how lucky I was. He never looked at a single note. Every time he played it was based on what he heard when listening to music. Playing by ear is a gift that I didn't inherit, but I do understand how sitting down at an instrument can transform you. Even if that instrument is your own voice. These days I find myself craving that live music in my home or at a show more than ever. <br />
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Lila rolls her eyes at me when I belt something out in the car, but then she's the one asking for her favorite song on repeat. Evie wakes up singing, plays while singing, sings when she's sad, sings when she's happy, sings to soothe her brother, and sings at the piano. Currently, she is the live music in my home. One of the most exciting parts about being a parent is that I get to introduce them to the greats, help teach them how to play the piano, and pass on this passion.<br />
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So who are you listening to? Do share!<br />
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-46263489170317391892015-09-02T22:07:00.000-04:002015-09-02T22:08:11.649-04:00Hope that you spend your days, but they all add upLast week I climbed Stone Mountain with Evie and Holden while Lila was at school. It had simply been too long and I needed a distraction. As we reached the home stretch Evie so badly wanted to give up. She told me her legs couldn't take it anymore. She told me there was no way. She told me I would have to go the rest without her and pick her up on the way back down. Upon eventually reaching the top she saw many other very fit people exercising. One woman was doing yoga. A very loud trainer was barking orders at his crew of five that had clearly had enough. Some were running, many were chatting, and even more were just trying to catch their breath (myself included). Next thing I knew Evie was doing this...<br />
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And Holden was doing this...</div>
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After Evie finished her lengthy exercise routine using her legs that almost didn't make it this far I told her we had to do one more thing before heading back down. I explained that today was the day three years ago when she was Holden's age that Poppy passed away. I told her since we were so close to the heavens I thought maybe we could try blowing him a kiss. So we did.<br />
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I told myself a long time ago that my conversations with my kids about my dad would happen in a natural way. Evie won't remember him unless it's based on what she's heard us say. Lila remembers every second of every day and still brings him up on the regular. Holden....well, someday Holden will learn that the connection between him and my dad is something that mends my heart a little every time I look at him. But, overall I just want to talk about it with them when it feels right with no pretense or forcing it. So Tuesday that's what I did. I blew kisses with my tender hearted little girl.</div>
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What I felt the most that day is how far I've come. At one point I truly believed that a loss like this was a plague on my life. I was sure it would never leave my side. I was sure it would continue to suck the life out of me until I could no longer take it. But I've taken it and taken it and come out the other side. It didn't leave. I just learned how to take the pain without suffering.</div>
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The stress and the weight of things used to be debilitating for me at times. This is one of the reasons I worry about Evie and the heaviness of her feelings. I know that intensity and the way it settles in your skin and makes a home there regardless of how much you fight it. And yet, for the first time in my life I feel free of it. It's so cliche to say, but I now know how short life really is. I know what I'm missing without him here. I also know that what is here with me right now is all I will ever need. If there are gifts given by the universe in the midst of grief, this is the greatest one of all. </div>
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I know this song is wildly popular right now, and for good reason. The lyrics alone make me want to memorize the whole thing and sing it to my kids every day. If I could just figure out how to replace "Let It Go" with "I Lived" all would be right in the world.<br />
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*post title pulled from the lyrics of "I Lived" by One Republic</div>
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Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-37984912088380236542015-07-15T22:49:00.000-04:002015-07-15T22:49:19.121-04:00Sun kissed skin and handlebarsSummer in the south is such a nostalgic time for me. It was the best part of my childhood. Even now, when I swim with my crew of little ones, there are those few moments when I first slowly submerge where I feel myself slip into blissful feelings of being a kid again. The world is slow and easy. There are no things to get done or places to be other than right there in the water.<br />
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I was born and raised in Georgia. This means that I am now halfway through my thirty fourth summer here (minus one I spent in another lovely spot in Connecticut). For me, summer means okra and tomatoes, berries for miles, and greens you put in everything. It's bike riding and sitting on porches. It's dinner in the yard, watermelon dripping down your arm, and fireflies. As I've gotten older it's also become cold beer, swapping stories beneath the trees in lawn chairs, and finding a way to snuggle the baby in the heat.</div>
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This summer is proving to shape up nicely. It started off rocky with a nasty virus, but we are in the swing of things now and I couldn't be happier. Lila barely learned how to ride her bike without training wheels last summer. Now, equipped with a new bike, she is barreling down our dead end street every chance she gets. That feeling of the wind on your face as you coast down a hill added to the first full dip into the pool equals summer perfection.<br />
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She's a professional.</div>
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She's pretty sure looking good on a bike is as important as being able to ride it.</div>
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He's just dreamy.</div>
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As with all things, there are two sides to the story. Especially when the story now involves having all three of your children with you at all times for weeks. I love summer and I love my children. Here are some things I don't love about the two <i>together</i>.<br />
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Unless we are at the pool, and even sometimes when we are, I feel like being outside and touching a kid is like intentionally letting a slug and a caterpillar crawl down your arm together. Words like sticky and rough at the same time come to mind. Sweat and dirt, both benign on their own, take on a new form when mixed on the body of a child that MUST sit in your lap immediately.<br />
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I hesitate to blame the heat for all of this because it is an essential part of having summer in the first place. Tropical places are only as enticing as they are because it's hot and there's pretty water to escape the heat. My pretty water now comes in the form of splash pads, water features, and the pool. I love the pool we have access to, but every kid digs splash pads these days. It's the hip thing to do. So we do it. And usually there's grass somewhere nearby. So I load up three wet, grassy, half sun screened, dirty, sweaty messes when we leave these hip places. Sounds fun right?<br />
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I also take issue with play areas that should have a working water feature, but it doesn't work when you arrive. I don't go to playgrounds in the summer that don't have some sort of access to water. I am too busy filling up a falling apart swim bag with extra clothes, bathing suits, snacks, water, wipes, diapers, and the like to search the internet for the possibility of some sort of notification that your water feature isn't working. It's false advertising. Don't have a water feature at a playground in the summer that doesn't work half the time. It's just cruel.<br />
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Here we are the waterless playground where we expected there to be water.</div>
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The other day we did purposely go to a playdate at a playground that had no water. There had been a few cool days and the playdate was at ten in the morning. I figured we were good. By eleven it was time to go. There's no escaping that kind of humidity. A friend and I loaded up our rough, sweaty kids and headed to the only place those of our kind seek refuge in situations like this... Chick-Fil-A. There's yummy food, indoor play areas, and people who don't exactly serve you but do check on you once in a while. We found ourselves dealing with a combination of highly attentive employees and highly agitated children. We kept looking at each other wondering if we should smile or cry. Instead we shoveled the food into our bodies and left. I apologized to the older gentleman that worked there as we left for the general disarray of our area. It looked like someone got in a fight with the polynesian sauce and when the sauce was winning they just threw all of their fries on the floor in defeat. Good times.<br />
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Then, there was this one day where I thought an enormous walk was in order. My new bike trailer/double stroller was itching to be used. This was pre new bike for Lila but she did have a new scooter. Off we went. I decided we should walk to dinner. This was the day I now refer to as the one where I officially lost my mind. I don't want to get into the gory details, but we spent over an hour at Roly Poly once we finally arrived. We drank gallons of water, ate more popsicles than I care to count, and prayed we would make it home. Pretty sure my neighbors might refer to that day the same way I do. They saw us dragging ourselves down our street on the way back, and it wasn't pretty.<br />
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It started off so well.</div>
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King of Pops cure all things.</div>
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Lastly, dear summer, I love you but you involve an immense amount of togetherness that my children can't seem to tolerate. Also, neither can I. Lila came to me and asked me if she could marry Evie. She told me they love each other so much that they should get married. Five minutes later both were in my face screaming and covered in scratch marks. We don't have a cat and our dog avoids my crazy kids like the plague most days. The love and the hate runneth over and I can only assume that the time together in the heat (had to throw it in one more time) is just getting to them.<br />
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Needless to say, the good outweighs the bad. It's just that the frustrating parts are pretty funny. Like when you get home from the splash pad that has a grassy knoll and you find grass in the baby's diaper. Or when you think you wiped your kid off at Chick-Fil-A only to find polynesian sauce behind their ear and in their hair while they watch TV (not joking). Summer will always be magical. Kids can often be magical. Summer and kids together...magically hysterical.<br />
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Here's to you summer and all of your glory. We love you.<br />
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Title pulled from one of my absolute favorite songs ever written. Listen to this song and look at my pictures and tell me you don't <i>feel the summer. </i></div>
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Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-37689355537417882282015-06-09T23:18:00.001-04:002015-06-09T23:38:55.130-04:00It's an update!The kids. It's time for an update. Sort of.<br />
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I used to do these elaborate headers with pictures from the month of Lila. I used to give every detail of every new thing she did as if maybe in typing it up she would stay that way. I also used to be really on top of things.<br />
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Things change.<br />
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This is the rough and dirty version of updating. I slept for what I like to call "a few hours" last night. I can't be held responsible, but dammit someone has to document this stuff right? So here goes.<br />
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Lila is an enigma in my world. She is <b><i>all of the things </i></b>bursting out of a very skinny, tall, wiggly little girl. She is excitement. She is energy. She is powerful. She is messy. She is intoxicating. I look at her and see everything I have always wished I could be. She is fearless and brilliant. She loves everything new and every book she's ever met. She wants and needs all of you unless she's reading. She is trying and exhausting while being loving and so very helpful all within the same two minute span. I do believe she would sit in my lap like a baby, long arms and legs and all, for an eternity. Her definition of close is so close there is no space. She craves the intensity of being next to you and gives you little choice in the matter. It scares me that one day that may go away. Mothering her is like mothering all of the children at once. She makes lists and plans and lists for her plans so her mind can be occupied until her plans can be put into action. She wants to do it all and experience every last little thing. That part is where she and I are one. The difference is, <i><b>she will do it, </b></i>come hell or high water.<br />
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Evie, naturally, is the opposite of Lila. She is meticulous and follows the rules like she wrote them. She is precise and concerned and feels every last feeling so strongly I worry she will be swallowed up by all of her feelings. And then, just when I think she's sinking into the abyss, she digs deep and finds this grit within her that pushes her back with a vengeance. She is mothering which benefits all of us, but for me it's a life boat on the days when I just wish someone would hold my hand. She isn't what I would call affectionate, but she will lend you her hand in a way that will save you if you let it. She doesn't love toys or things. She loves singing in the morning and dancing in the backyard. Every sentence begins with "let's pretend" and her face tells you she needs this. She needs to be somewhere else sometimes. Not just because she's four and that's when pretending hits it's peak, but because her imagination and intense feelings can't get out any other way. She's quick to cry, quick to tattle, and quick to deny any wrong doing, but she's also the first to be flexible and easy going. She can be shy if she doesn't know you, but once you're in <i><b>you are really in</b></i>.<br />
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Holden is the glue. Even now, at almost 10 months old, I can tell that he will be what holds Lila, Evie, and I together through the insane female teenage years ahead. Sure, they may find him bothersome at some point. Something in me says any irritation will be short lived. <i><b>There is just something about him</b></i>. I don't even really know where to begin to describe this tiny little baby boy. He looks at you and everything is happy. Everything is sweet and easy going. He is the sweetest of loves in the most special of ways. He just wants to look at you and see you looking back. He loves to stare at you like you are a vision of perfection that he hasn't already been looking at all day. When I say "you" I don't just mean me. He gives this love to almost everyone. There is this sparkle in his eyes that says he sees how special you are. It's consuming. I have caught Lila and Evie both trying to get him to look at them so that they can feel it, even if for a second. He doesn't love to eat (which I have a hard time comprehending) and sleeping is not a skill he's mastered yet either (again, huh?). But, those things seem small in comparison to how gracious he is with his love.<br />
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There you have it. The shortest update so far! Happy summer doing whatever it is you do during this glorious season. Cook outs, pool dates, patio drinks...do it all friends.Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-89049547317235359952015-05-20T11:44:00.000-04:002015-05-20T11:44:20.152-04:00holla...holla....helloooo?Oh look! Don't blink. You might miss this fleeting Holla Hump Day. There may or may not ever be another one again. I have a hard time committing these days.<br />
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Speaking of committing...<br />
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This is another blog post about how being a parent is hard. I'm sure you've heard/felt it all before. Follow me though. There are Pinterest moms and tiger moms and stressed out moms who drink spiked smoothies at 4pm. There are working moms and stay at home moms and moms who are moms AND dads at the same time (or dads who are dads and moms). There are people who fit into some or many of the above <i>like a glove. </i><br />
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What I know about them all is that the moments here and there where they feel they rocked some parenting moment seem to shine so bright it's blinding. Do you know why? Because the moments that aren't so shiny are pretty damn bright sometimes too.<br />
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For instance...<br />
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This year I killed it on the birthday party scene. I sort of flip flop between wanting to do it all for a party and wanting to do nothing. This year I decided to go all in. It seemed maybe mommy guilt was the driving force, and then one day I realized I just think it's fun. I can own that. It's stressful at times, but fun. Especially when you have two little girls who are really sure of what they want. After getting sucked into the Pinterest vortex I came out the other side with huge gleaming smiles all around. With the help of my fabulous friend Meghan of <a href="http://www.stirandscribble.com/" target="_blank">Stir and Scribble</a> I was able to make two special parties happen in one weekend. It was glorious and shiny and all of those things.<br />
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Six year old book themed party</div>
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Four year old Frozen themed party</div>
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On the flip side, we fast forward to today...the morning the tooth fairy forgot to show up.<br />
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See what I mean about the the not so shiny moments being bright too? I know you do because I could almost hear you gasping as you read that lonely sentence up there.<br />
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Lila lost her first tooth a few weeks ago. I'm unsure now of where I was. Probably on Pinterest planning parties. Seth saved the day in his amazing dad way. He put four dollars under the pillow. So maybe he set the bar a little high. And maybe he didn't put a note or an envelope or really any sort of cutesy thing with it. Just a whopping four dollars. Because only moms overthink things like the tooth fairy. I actually pinned multiple tooth fairy pillows I was going to make just for her so that every tiny tooth lost would have a place to live in the night while waiting for the elusive fairy and her gobs of money. Clearly, this never happened.<br />
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I felt some remorse about my lack of tooth fairy skills, but told myself that you can't win 'em all and went on about my day.<br />
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As I was out doing my super glamorous second job last night Lila bit into one of Seth's homemade ice cream sandwiches and tooth number two was out. He texted me, we chatted when I got home about how much to leave, and then I woke to Lila at 6 am wondering why the fairy forgot about her. I couldn't exactly say, "because the tooth fairy is TIRED".<br />
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What I can say here is that the tooth fairy is ABSURB. Am I right? A fairy takes teeth and replaces them with money. Ridiculous.<br />
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Here is where things get dicey. I tell Lila that maybe she just woke up too early and the fairy hadn't gotten to her yet and now didn't want to scare her. There is zero chance of Lila going back to sleep at this point, but I have never seen her want to get back in the bed faster in her entire life. I smack Seth on the arm and ask him what the hell we are supposed to do now. In a sleep deprived haze we chat, sort of hash out a plan, and then sit there thinking our plan is stupid.<br />
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Lila comes back in the room and I convince her to get in the bed with us and just talk to me (play with my phone). I am at a total loss. Seth decides to run with our plan and gets up and disappears.<br />
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Lila is a smart kid. I'm pretty sure somewhere inside that head covered in cotton candy blonde hair she knows that all of this is complete and utter bullshit. I tried the Elf on the Shelf when she was three and she called me out saying it was just me moving the thing. The difference is, I think she will totally just play along if presents/money/candy are involved. I can't be sure, so until I can we must become better tooth fairies.<br />
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Here is what Lila found this morning on the kitchen table with two dollars:<br />
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Maybe she fell for it. Maybe she didn't. She had two dollars in the her hand so I'm not sure it matters. And don't judge the tooth fairy for "her" disguised handwriting. It was 6 am. </div>
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Holla hump day to the birthday party life savers, the dads turned tooth fairies, and the moms who want to do it all but are really tired. </div>
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-20690692613402065442015-05-06T21:27:00.000-04:002015-05-06T21:27:29.636-04:00River is deep, yeah I'm swimmingFor me, the difference between having post partum depression and not having it is just what the title of this post says. The river is always deep when entering or maintaining the land of parenting. As long as the constant feeling of drowning is kept at bay, things are magical.<br />
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I mean, there are days when I have felt amazing with my baby and two big kids. For example, this one day I was driving my SUV filled with three car seats, drinking my half-caf, belting out Taylor Swift* with my chickies, and feeling like a total bad ass. For God's sake, I birthed all three of these kids and they were all alive and pretty clean that day. Granted, the littlest one had a rash from head to toe, the middle one had just spent three days with a fever, and the oldest was covered in snot (and yogurt). But I was WELL and handling it. We were going to the doctor for our first "everybody's got something!" appointment. Copays seem like no big deal until you pay three of them at once. My sick kids were refusing to wear jackets bigger than a hoodie and then actually cried while we were waiting for the parking deck elevator because they were freezing. I just smiled and said, "and what will you do differently next time we leave the house and it's cold outside?". I mean, I can only harp on something for so long before they just need to learn the hard way right? Sick or not, repeating myself has to stop some time.<br />
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Then there was another day, more recently, where Lila told me she just had to go to the store to buy Evie a birthday present with her own money. She kept saying that, "MY OWN MONEY", like I was going to object. What I really wanted to tell her was that it would be quite a feat for us to get in and out of Target with only HER MONEY being spent. But, I'm a good mom. I was willing to give it a go. Then I realized it was pushing 4:30pm and I had to feed the baby before piling the crew in the car. This was either going to be a barrel of fun or sort of like a nightmare. Sometimes we as parents roll the dice. This time I lucked out. Evie used her birthday gift card and money, Lila bought Evie a gift in the dollar aisle, and Lila bought a little something for herself with birthday money. They bought things they actually really wanted too. Mommy bought nothing. That's right. Here's how you get in and out of Target spending none of your own money…bring three kids minutes before dinner time. The sheer stress of who will melt down first, second, and last makes you think it would be crazy to even attempt to shop. Get in and get out is all you can muster. Look at that. I just saved you tons of money.<br />
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I know what you're thinking. <i>These </i>are my examples of a amazing days where I felt like a bad ass? If I could scream YES through the computer I would. I would because I was mentally there. I was present and happy and solving the problems. I was all in.<br />
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You have no idea how bad post partum depression is until you don't have it anymore. With the exception of a few bad days, I have spent the majority of Holden's short life on cloud nine. Magical doesn't even touch the surface of how good that feels.<br />
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Sometimes Seth and I will look at each other and even though we aren't sure if we should laugh or cry, the stolen look of "we are in this together" is enough. It's more than enough. It's everything. That look and the look that says "we created these freaking adorable children". That's a good one too.<br />
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*Post title from the song "I'll Be Your Man" by The Black Keys*</div>
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-74723148720721178872015-04-30T11:17:00.001-04:002015-04-30T11:20:30.328-04:00It came in like the breeze...Currently I do a lot of solo parenting. It is the nature of the game for us right now and I am finding ways to make it less daunting. Most days that involves a lot of self talk, deep breathing, and ridiculous behavior on my part to lighten some moods (mine included). Today I jammed out in the car to <a href="https://youtu.be/8wtj2snRuUI" target="_blank">this</a> on the way back from dropping Lila off at school after a rough morning. I'm talking full on car dancing and singing where the person in the car next to you pretends they don't see you. I looked in my rear view and saw Evie cracking up at my behavior. My first thought was, clearly I need to do this more often. Also, for the record, Uptown Funk is way over played but it WILL change the attitudes of children in the blink of an eye. I know. I've tried it more times than I can count at this point with a one hundred percent success rate.<br />
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But, there is no amount of singing and dancing that can cure the end of the day drag. That time somewhere before dinner or after dinner or all around dinner where a stay at home parent daydreams about the moment when everyone is asleep. I have tried all of the things to make this time less exhausting. I'm tired. They are tired. Everyone is <b><i>starving</i></b> because it seems they somehow haven't eaten all day or they haven't eaten the dinner I just put in front of them. There's a lot of complaining about who touched what or who didn't share or who brushed a shoulder that basically maimed someone. Everyone's all touchy and emotional. I then do something hateful like ask them to clean up and this charmed life they are leading becomes simply unbearable. This would be the point where mommy contemplates walking outside, with the baby of course, and heading next door to see if the neighbors want to come put my kids to bed because I JUST CAN'T.<br />
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And then the universe decides that laughter is the best medicine…next to singing and dancing of course….<br />
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This charmed life is just that….charmed beyond belief. While my self talk involves a whole lot of "I am grateful, I am grateful, I am so very grateful dammit", it also leaves room for some "it's okay to be over it today". The grateful and the unbearable gets all mixed up in there. But once they are all asleep I sit and watch the laughter over and over again and attempt to pat myself on the back for another day of fairly decent solo parenting.<br />
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Big hugs to all of the for real single parents out there. You are rockstars.<br />
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<b>*Post title from the song Our Own House by MisterWives linked above*</b></div>
Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-79957860818490236562015-03-31T21:14:00.000-04:002015-03-31T21:14:40.394-04:00Knowing Is Half The BattleWhat I now know that I didn't know before baby number three:<br />
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Going from two to three, for me, was actually easier than going from one to two. That being said, I've decided my third child is an anomaly so I may not be the best judge of difficulty levels when having many children.<br />
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I am incapable of giving everyone what they want, need, demand, cry for, whine about, or even allude to. I saw on this one blog where a mom made a calendar and the kids took turns getting their day to go first, pick their favorite cup, and be the overall winner of the day. This appeared in my search to rid my life of mommy job number 8,325, also known as referee. I'm thinking about making a similar calendar only when it's your day you are the only one who really gets anything at all. Everyone else gets your scraps. What's funny is, if I really did this Holden would probably still spend the entire day smiling at me as if I'm a goddess. Yes, I hit the baby jackpot with that one.<br />
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There is A LOT to be said for a little more space in age between children. I love that Lila and Evie are close in age. However, I also LOVE that this time there is only one child in diapers, one child who can't buckle into a car seat on their own, and one child that is incapable of feeding themselves at any given moment.<br />
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It is possible to feel like a completely capable bad ass based on everything you can accomplish in a day while also feeling like the dumbest person alive. Not only is it possible, it is pretty much life as I know it.<br />
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Decision making while out and about with three kids is exponentially harder. When your husband has been gone off and on for weeks you may suddenly realize one day that having wine or beer at home for when the kids go to bed is absolutely necessary. You may then curse yourself for the fact that your house is somehow devoid of these things (who knows how?). And it's raining. So, it may take an absurd amount of time to decide if it's worth hauling the kids into the store to get beverages, and that's okay. They are all strapped in anyway so the decision making time of not really being needed for however long you decide is a win regardless.<br />
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Preschool is now a necessity, not a choice. When I had one baby I was all, "maybe I'll wait until she's two or three". I would have had my poor third child signed up for next year at the beginning of this year had they done registration that early. Not because I can't wait to send him away, but more because I can't wait to be truly alone for a few hours. Chances are I will be working in those hours and not alone, but that's not the point. The point is THOSE HOURS ARE MINE.<br />
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This is just the beginning people. I've also learned how to breastfeed while doing <i>all of the things</i>, how to adequately own forgetfulness, and how to accept help like it's never going to be offered again.<br />
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Seriously, just writing this post makes me feel smarter by the minute.Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-54705524472547306082015-03-25T21:37:00.000-04:002015-03-25T21:37:20.491-04:00A Love StorySlowest return ever right? Alas, I've missed this place.<br />
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Love stories are a tricky lot. I've become immersed in the show "Once Upon a Time". Yes, it's hokey. But I am a lover of the fairy tale. Furthermore, I am a lover of the potential for diversion from the typical fairytale. When I read the book Wicked I felt like the author knew that I had always secretly needed the wicked witch to tell her story. Wicked and Once Upon A Time give life and love to the villain, the sisters, and all of the ancillary people beyond just girl meets boy. Love stories are timeless. And yet, they evolve into something different every day. I thought my love story would always be about Seth, my one great love. As it turns out, there's much more to it than that.<br />
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I haven't been sure how to talk about my most recent love story. It's complicated. It's taken me to a place where writing in general became confusing. How does one tell a story that feels bigger than the writer? Bigger than the subject? Bigger than everything.<br />
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I've decided to give it a go.<br />
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It started with a dream. I'm in the hospital holding my brand new baby. I'm crying this deep, weeping sort of cry that feels like a whole lot of happy mixed with some unexpected letting go. I'm staring at this perfect face unsure if the baby is a boy or a girl, but someone is softly whispering <b><i>boy</i></b>. I feel like maybe it's August 25th.<br />
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I woke up from this dream multiple times in a hugely pregnant state of sleepless delirium. Even in such a state, I would sit for a second and let the feelings from the dream wash over me. This was a reoccurring, fleeting moment that built up over time until one day I was alone in the car and I felt sure it all meant something. I didn't dare tell anyone though. The minute the mother starts speculating on the unknown sex of the baby everyone gets all in a tizzy.<br />
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When Seth and I decided to have a third child we didn't sit around obsessing over some intense need to have a son being that we already have two daughters. We weren't "trying for a boy", as they say. We were having a baby. That's all there was to it. So, I felt weird having this dream. I felt like I was subconsciously wishing it to go a certain way, when really all I wanted was a healthy and happy baby.<br />
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I began to feel a little nervous. I wasn't nervous because I was planning to have an unmedicated birth for the first time. I wasn't nervous because I had no idea what to expect. I wasn't nervous about having a third child. I was nervous about the letting go and the coming out the other side in a stable mental state. It's been a rough couple of years. Mental status ranks pretty high on my list of things that need monitoring. Something about the significance of the dream, the missing person in the room, and emotions involved in simply having a baby made my head spin.<br />
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As my due date came and went and my tolerance for the pregnancy had long since expired, I stopped being nervous. When I came home on a Friday from the doctor's office and the contractions revved up I was thrilled. I mean, no joke, I was overjoyed that they were getting more painful by the minute.<br />
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If you've kept up with this blog you know that I don't see things through rose colored glasses. To me, life is nothing if you can't rejoice in the good AND flesh out the bad. Unmedicated birth is everything it sounds like. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. What I have a low tolerance for is exhaustion. I was expecting to power through the pain. Instead I had to find a way to simply not fall over. Truth be told, the whole thing wasn't all that long. I just remember wishing, even fantasizing, about taking a nap. Currently, I feel like a warrior. At the time, I felt like I was going to die in childbirth. Or at the very least pass out.<br />
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When it was all said and done I was looking at the face of a boy. A face not that different from the two I'd previously seen in those first few moments, but entirely different just the same. The room felt slow and sleepy and I found myself physically letting go of so much hurt, anger, and heartache. I felt myself fall in love yet again. I felt something else too. Again, something bigger than having a baby, if that's possible. I felt like this gift at this time was meant to show me a different path and was sent by someone who knew I needed a chance to see only the good for a while.<br />
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If you've met Holden you might have noticed. He's got this thing about him that's hard to describe. It's a sort of happiness that never stops. Never waivers. Even when he's crying I can make him smile. He just can't help himself. Happy is just a part of who he is. He's shown me that even on the worst of days there are things to smile about. The twinkle in his blue eyes is eerily similar to what I once saw in my dad. It's like Holden brought a piece of him here. If there is a heaven and these sorts of things do happen, it would be like my dad to need that twinkle to live on in his grandson.<br />
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It's cliche really, but this love story of loss, letting go, and birth is my non-traditional fairytale. It is a story I will find a way to tell Holden someday. It brings truth to the notion that life is a never ending circle where honoring the past and living for the present is the best thing that we can ever do.<br />
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Welcome to Isn't She Lovely my little love.<br />
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Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-35800215662080843452014-09-15T11:23:00.001-04:002014-09-15T11:23:20.360-04:00Slow ReturnWell hey.<br />
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Not sure anyone is still around and reading blogs. Do people still read blogs?<br />
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Anyway, there are some loaded posts in my brain about things like having a baby and silly links of all the lovely things.<br />
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For now let's ease back in with this gorgeous voice because I. Can't. Get. Enough. And this song is just one of many. I'm sure you've heard "Like Real People Do". Dig deeper. You tube or Spotify or whatever it is you do. Do it now.<br />
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I mean, this….<br />
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<b>"It can't be unlearned. I've known the warmth of your doorway. Through the cold I'll find my way back to you"</b></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/GgWOJIC6Kp8" width="560"></iframe>Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-81780684142990247302014-07-13T21:32:00.000-04:002014-07-13T21:32:04.482-04:00The calm before the stormThese are the times when writing out the moment feels so necessary. I am in the throws of the final days of what is officially my last pregnancy. My mind and my body have had enough. There is no more telling myself to enjoy the last of it, because it's just too hot to think about anything being all that enjoyable. My skin is too stretched, my back is too achy, and my sleep is too interrupted to pretend to be that mindful any longer. I have no desire to have an early baby. I just have a lot of desire to not be pregnant anymore. One day I am going to cry about that because I will desperately want to be pregnant again. When that day comes I'll pour a glass of wine and cry it out…and then move past it. <div>
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Trying to come to terms with what's to come before it happens seems like a futile effort. One can't really know what's ahead even if similar past experiences are fresh on the brain. </div>
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I remember life with a newborn as clearly as if it just happened yesterday. But, I have no concept of life with two children AND a newborn. </div>
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I remember the first day I left my baby while I went to work. I remember the first day I sent both girls to preschool. But, I have never sent a child to her first day of Kindergarten at a new school possibly within days of having a baby. </div>
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I remember the chaos that felt consuming for weeks and months after having baby number two. This time I'm ready for that part. I'm ready for a house that's never clean, diapers, breastfeeding, and general disarray. I'm ready to start over on this crazy ride.</div>
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What I've come to appreciate about the ride is the calm before the storm. I'm sitting in my clean house on my clean couch next to my worn out dog while my kids are dreaming about swimming pools and cookouts. My husband is having a much deserved night out, and I can take the time to write about how peaceful it all feels…in this moment. I can reminisce about a summer spent watching my girls enjoy the day. There's room to breathe in the few hours before going to bed. The calm is a lovely thing. </div>
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<i><b>But man do I love a good storm. </b></i></div>
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Growing up my mom would sit by a window or even outside during a storm. There was actually one summer where she sat on the balcony of a condo we rented at the beach watching an impending hurricane on it's way in. I remember feeling mesmerized by it and by her fascination with it. Years later I spent a few months traveling all over Europe. Would you believe one of my fondest memories of that trip was walking out into the rain in a heavily wooded area somewhere on the outskirts of Rome? I headed to the outdoor showers (this was a budget trip to say the least) and was startled by a very large deer blocking my path just a few feet in front of the shower I was headed to. He seemed to be avoiding the storm while I was standing right in it. </div>
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Yes, I am comparing having a baby to a wind gusting, rain pouring, lightning crashing sort of storm. At the end of the day, isn't that what it's like in the best, most overwhelming way?</div>
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Here's to the calm in all it's glory and the excitement of the storm to come. </div>
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Honestly, I'll be thrilled with shirts that cover my midsection and snuggling a baby as opposed to a giant pillow between my legs. </div>
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Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-81760170229530972842014-06-13T07:30:00.000-04:002014-06-13T07:30:00.477-04:00Lovely LinksOh how I love spring and summer food. I want to buy and make all of the fruits and veggies into every single dish I can come up with. I also want to grow them all myself, but the weird and vast array of wildlife around here (and my general lack of skill and knowledge) keeps that from happening.<br />
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It isn't stopping me from my weekly goals of stashing food for the arrival of baby number three. I didn't make much headway last week, but here is what I've done in the span of two weeks…<br />
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1) <a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Blueberry-Zucchini-Bread/Detail.aspx" target="_blank">This Blueberry Zucchini Bread</a> is my go to breakfast, snack, and even dessert. I've probably included it in a post already. I make it all the time. I will say that the original recipe is terrible for you. I read through the comments and make changes almost every time. The best part about this recipe is that it makes two big loaves of bread. The worst part is that it calls for over two cups of sugar! I replace that with mashed bananas and honey while also replacing the vegetable oil with applesauce. It makes the bread more dense and less fluffy, but it doesn't bother me (or my kids) at all.<br />
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2) This <a href="http://www.twopeasandtheirpod.com/caprese-garlic-bread/" target="_blank">Caprese Garlic Bread</a> is more like an easier version of pizza (as if pizza isn't easy enough already). But, with Seth gone a lot these days we can't eat an entire loaf. Last week I made the whole loaf and froze half. It's serious comfort food and easy to pair with a big salad.<br />
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3) These <a href="http://www.100daysofrealfood.com/2010/04/21/recipe-whole-wheat-banana-pancakes-freeze-the-leftovers/" target="_blank">Whole-Wheat Banana Pancakes</a> make a ton and they are so good! I usually add blueberries.<br />
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Three other Pinterest recipes I randomly tried this week turned out really well. They aren't allotted for the make ahead plan. However, I would bet <a href="http://www.fearlesshomemaker.com/2014/01/tofu-bolognese/" target="_blank">this spaghetti</a> could be. If you aren't a tofu fan I understand. But Lila gobbled it up faster than I have ever seen her eat pasta (which she typically doesn't love). I can't get enough of peach season, but the ones I get at our local farmer's market ripen so quickly. Had I known that I wouldn't have bought entirely too many of them. I have been wanting to try out my new <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/navitas-naturals-organic-coconut-palm-sugar" target="_blank">coconut palm sugar</a> that I read about via <a href="http://foodbabe.com/2013/04/18/does-your-cookie-need-all-that-sugar/" target="_blank">this post</a> from <a href="http://www.foodbabe.com/" target="_blank">The Food Babe</a>. <a href="http://www.thelawstudentswife.com/2013/08/peach-crisp/" target="_blank">This peach crisp</a> was the perfect opportunity for that. We heat it up in the morning, add a few spoonfuls of greek yogurt, and it makes for a fantastic breakfast. Lastly, the girls haven't had <a href="http://mynearestanddearest.com/chocolate-peanut-butter-banana-popsicles/" target="_blank">these popsicles</a> yet, but I tried one last night and was thrilled with myself for having found a "healthier" sweet option!<br />
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Even though food is on my brain, summer reading is in full swing as well! For anyone out there with a young reader, <a href="http://www.whatdowedoallday.com/2012/08/50-chapter-books-for-preschoolers-and-3-year-olds.html" target="_blank">this list of books</a> is really perfect. They are chapter books at a beginning level. Lila and I chose four from this list at the library, and she plowed through them so fast we got four more!<br />
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Speaking of Lila, <a href="http://www.balancedandbarefoot.com/blog/the-real-reason-by-children-fidget" target="_blank">this article </a>really hit home for me. I don't want to really get into thoughts and feelings about ADHD or anything in that realm. However, Lila is a fidgeter and she has more energy than I could ever dream to have. So I read those types of articles and appreciate the sentiment as a mother and as a teacher (once upon a time). <a href="http://time.com/2854061/audra-mcdonald-adhd-medication/" target="_blank">This article</a> by Audra McDonald also really hit home for me. Not just because of the content, but because of the grace, humility, and pure understanding she shows. True loveliness in writing.<br />
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Switching gears here, I finally have a plan for the baby's room! I had shared other links with visions of primary colors and beautiful quilts. Then, Seth's mom offered up a very neutral twin/loveseat sized chair with an ottoman from her house that changed it all for me. That and my need for comfort, as previously mentioned. Now I'm on the most neutral path ever. Tans, golds, whites, and creams are what I see. Once baby is here and we know the sex I will throw in peaches/coral/pink or aqua/blue/mint here and there and call it a day. I realize I don't have to be married to pinks for girls and blues for boys, but with starting all neutral it's just the easy thing to do. Currently I daydream about a cozy oasis of little color. Here's a quick and messy look at starting neutral and adding later...<br />
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<a href="http://www.polyvore.com/boy_girl/set?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=124593688" target="_blank"><img alt="Boy or Girl?" border="0" src="http://cfc.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/.sig/14qIgnWm3vxWKILDNO68oQ/cid/124593688/id/UKPtCTrw4xG9UoxZtP8JyA/size/c600x422.jpg" height="422" title="Boy or Girl?" width="600" /></a></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/boy_girl/set?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=124593688" target="_blank">Boy or Girl?</a> by <a href="http://janaburrow.polyvore.com/?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste" target="_blank">janaburrow</a> featuring <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/modern_wall_art/shop?query=modern+wall+art" target="_blank">modern wall art</a></small></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=94876111" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Modern wall art</a></small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=96358613" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Aden + Anais Crib Sheet Fawn Stars</a></small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=107654616" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Gold light blue garland, glitter garland, circle paper , teal baby...</a></small><br />
<small>etsy.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=108426675" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Blush pink gold dot pillow cover - minky baby nursery pillow - baby...</a></small><br />
<small>etsy.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461258" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><img align="left" src="http://ak2.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/111461258.jpg" height="50" hspace="4" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid #cccccc; margin: 0 8px 8px 0; padding: 2px;" width="50" /></a></small></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461258" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Mint gold metallic dot pillow cover minky baby by WilderAndBean</a></small><br />
<small>etsy.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461349" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><img align="left" src="http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/111461349.jpg" height="50" hspace="4" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid #cccccc; margin: 0 8px 8px 0; padding: 2px;" width="50" /></a></small></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461349" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Love You To The Moon And Back Print Stars and by SweetPeonyPress</a></small><br />
<small>etsy.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461300" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><img align="left" src="http://ak2.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/111461300.jpg" height="50" hspace="4" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid #cccccc; margin: 0 8px 8px 0; padding: 2px;" width="50" /></a></small></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461300" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Birds on the Wire... Watercolor Priint with by TheDigitalStudio</a></small><br />
<small>etsy.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461076" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Amazon.com: American Baby Company 100% Cotton Percale Dust Ruffle,...</a></small><br />
<small>amazon.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111461412" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Paper garland star garland wedding garland by PaperNotebook</a></small><br />
<small>etsy.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111460962" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><img align="left" src="http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/111460962.jpg" height="50" hspace="4" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid #cccccc; margin: 0 8px 8px 0; padding: 2px;" width="50" /></a></small></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111460962" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Amazon.com - Gifts & Decor Bamboo Handle Woven Corn Husk Nesting...</a></small><br />
<small>amazon.com</small><br />
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111460788" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><img align="left" src="http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/s/tid/111460788.jpg" height="50" hspace="4" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid #cccccc; margin: 0 8px 8px 0; padding: 2px;" width="50" /></a></small></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/thing?.embedder=2199889&.svc=copypaste&id=111460788" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Amazon.com : aden + anais Organic Cotton Muslin Changing Pad Cover,...</a></small><br />
<small>amazon.com</small><br />
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Thank you for indulging my heavy post of lovely links. Enjoy the weekend and Father's Day with your families!<br />
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-56897348035876154922014-06-12T16:02:00.000-04:002014-06-12T16:03:20.347-04:00Do It For YouSometimes being a stay at home mom can make you feel isolated and eventually awkward around adults. It happens. For some time now I've been trying to find ways to lessen those feelings. Even with neighbors and friends who stay home, the actual conversations are hard to manage when you are trying to keep your kids safe at the same time. At the ages my children are at, when I say safe I mean I'm trying to keep them from attacking each other.<br />
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Anyway, believe it or not, things like blogging make a huge difference. Social media in general is a great outlet. Over the past two years I have joined various groups on FB to have a daily way of keeping myself focused on something adult and educational or inspiring. Currently I'm in a photo challenge group started by Kelly from <a href="http://debiehive.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Debie Hive</a>. I joined, albeit reluctantly, because I would like to attempt to take better pictures. I have a lovely, expensive camera. I've even taken a class, but it's hard not to continue to feel clumsy and irritated by the whole process. However, when I do get good shots there's a little glimmer of hope that I could get better at it. Even though I am behind on the days, I would love to see the whole thing through. I would like to note that I'm all for a good phone shot here and there too!<br />
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Day 1 - Selfie<br />
This one has been posted here before. I needed a quick selfie to add since I started the group late as well!<br />
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Day 2 - Personality</div>
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Taking pictures outside is really the only time I feel like I'm remotely on top of this game. Plus, this little one makes it so easy…</div>
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Day 3 - Pet</div>
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Our yellow lab is the definition of retriever. She only pauses briefly to close her eyes before the ball is thrown again.</div>
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Day 4 - Landscape</div>
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I cheated a little here. This was taken in Hawaii as we walked the lava rock to a black sand beach. There just isn't much in the way of landscape in Tucker, GA on most days.</div>
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Day 5 - Water</div>
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I took a million pictures of the girls playing with the hose. This might have been the best twenty minutes of playtime ever. It was so hard to choose just one. </div>
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If you work or stay home, have kids or no kids, what do you try to do that's just for you? What keeps you feeling like your life isn't all work/kids/etc.? I would love to hear about it!</div>
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-55865993374291177852014-06-05T22:09:00.002-04:002014-06-05T22:09:47.312-04:00Hospital stay, take oneThings I learned during my overnight hospital stay while pregnant but not in labor (in no particular order)…<br />
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1) Our choice to cancel cable TV was quite possibly one of the best decisions we've ever made. Yes, my time could be better served staying away from Netflix as well. But having spent my stay watching Keeping Up With the Kardashians and Desperate Housewives of Orange County, I feel it's safe to say I became dumber while hospitalized. As my friend Patty would say, my brains were most likely beginning to fall out of my ears from all of that terrible TV.<br />
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2) If you are in a packed waiting area at the hospital known as "the baby factory" in a major city, but you are not having contractions, people are going to look at you funny. The admin staff will keep glancing your way to make sure you haven't passed out. Clearly the woman falling out of the wheelchair through each contraction goes first. She is obviously followed by the lady who is pacing and moaning amid baffled looks at you and your not contracting belly. I tried to convey the "it's okay" sentiment with my eyes. The staff totally got it because I sat there for an hour contemplating taking up residence on the floor.<br />
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3) You could spend days in a big hospital (twice) and go visit countless friends there without having any clue how big the place is. I was transported via wheelchair by some truly lovely people to various locations. After the third visit to a new area I stopped trying to place where I was in relation to my room or anywhere else I was familiar with. Instead I simply enjoyed the hospitality. I don't know if that's their only job, but the people who transport the patients all over creation are the happiest, friendliest people I have ever come across.<br />
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4) If you do get admitted to the baby factory but the baby isn't yet coming you get the the least desirable room possible. One nurse I had even called it "the dungeon". Seth said it felt like a jail cell due to the toilet just sticking out of the wall. None of that really bothered me once I got in the room because that meant I had avoided the stretching out on the waiting room floor scenario.<br />
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5) Pregnant night nurses with kids at home should be given medals. Or free vacations. Or free weekly massages. Or all of the above.<br />
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So, here's the quick version of what landed me in this situation. I've been having dizzy spells, light headed feelings, and complete out of it days for weeks now. They are off and on, but when they're on I'm down for the count. Tuesday I tried to wait it out in the afternoon and the kids ended up watching two movies after their respective camps. I still couldn't tell you what those two movies were. I went to see my OB yesterday morning and realized on the way there that it was a terrible idea to drive myself there. After waiting in her waiting room for a while I entered her exam room and promptly dropped my basket. This is a favorite phrase used back in the day by some of my favorite friends when they would become that girl who maybe had too much to drink and started crying. I'm not talking about the slow, small cry. This is more like the straight up ugly, devastated sort of cry that hits you suddenly and without warning. This is when my OB suggested we head to the hospital and have some testing done. I had already exhausted other tests at her office over the past few weeks. It was time to really see what was up.<br />
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At first I felt silly for going to the hospital. I kept thinking I would feel really silly if it turned out to be nothing. Then, after contemplating using the waiting room floor as a place to "feel better", I decided I was taking the right step. And nothing is what you want it to be anyway right?<br />
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Basically nothing is what it was! Sort of. A lovely combination of low blood pressure, having a less than stable pelvic floor (due to having big babies), and something called a Vasovagal response all led to these episodes. It's a good thing I've never really been the fashionable sort because these are a permanent part of my summer wardrobe now. Don't they look awesome with flip flops?<br />
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I also have to hydrate even more, add extra salt to my diet, and rest when I can. Basic stuff. Fingers crossed these things do the job or I get to go a few times a week to get IV fluids.<br />
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Here's to finding out all is well except for minor changes to be made!<br />
<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-39839928538859974852014-05-29T22:01:00.000-04:002014-05-29T22:01:34.279-04:00Ebb and FlowI would like to add to the never ending list of things no one tells you before you become a parent. No one mentions that just when you think you're the jam and you've got this gig down, you wake up one day and realize it's all gone to shit (sorry I can't make my brain find a better word here). <i><b>You become achingly aware of the fact that you know so little and yet so much while also knowing nothing at all. </b></i>That's right. That garbled sentence is parenting. If people still used bumper stickers I would have one made. Maybe people would use it instead of the stick figure family, and I'd be rich.<br />
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But then…oh and then…there are those times where you find yourself sitting in the silence at eight o'clock at night and you can't help but smile because the kids are asleep. It has nothing to do with how awesome you are as a parent. Parenting is like the tide. It's going to come in and it's going to go out and there is no controlling the beast. Parenting is as vast, unpredictable, and breathtaking as the ocean. I am replacing my usual melodrama with ridiculous philosophical nonsense, but you get the point.<br />
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It has everything to do with knowing that there will be phases, stages, and difficulties that you can't stand followed by a period of relief. The knowing is half the battle really.<br />
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After a long, hard school year for Lila things are turning around now. I'm trying to repair the damage caused by her terrible introduction to "big kid school". She's eating up every second of summer like it's going to end tomorrow. Evie is perfecting her role as little sister AND soon to be big sister. It's the calm before the chaos really. This summer will need to be remembered as just that…calm, carefree, and magical.<br />
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That's right. I used the word magical about a time where I will be enormously pregnant in the Georgia summer heat.<br />
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You see, when the parenting pendulum swings towards the easy days you must relish in them. When kids are sleeping well, fun things are going on, and moods are generally good you can't just carry on as scheduled. You must appreciate that your biggest concern is sweating through your clothes that feel too tight but have to last you two more months.<br />
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This is me appreciating. I am in the upswing cycle of parenting for the moment and it's a glorious thing to be here in the silence eating ice cream and writing blog posts.<br />
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-49373581017219372162014-05-23T21:53:00.000-04:002014-05-23T22:08:50.776-04:00Lovely Links<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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That's how I feel about myself some days. I'm just over here holding the universe together. Kidding. Sort of.<br />
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I mean, isn't that what all of the moms do in this world?<br />
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In my head that's what I'm doing. In real life, if you were to enter my home (or read the rest of this blog post), you would see that the universe being held together only involves cooked food and two children who haven't killed each other yet. Oh, and a nicely put together shared kids room (finally) that I agonized over. It has been my experience that sometimes holding the universe together means taking a step back and saying to yourself, "all of the other things will just have to wait".<br />
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And while they wait I can be found listening to these two and making food with or without "help"…be still my music loving heart with these two. <a href="http://johnnyswim.com/" target="_blank">Johnnyswim</a> is what they call themselves, and after the devastatingly predictable separation of The Civil Wars I needed me some Johnnyswim…<br />
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The nesting is starting!!!<br />
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This would be my favorite part of being pregnant. I'm nervous it won't stick around as the belly gets bigger and the temps continue to rise. Fingers crossed I keep up my new plan of making a boatload of food to get me through the weeks right after baby comes. I've never planned out or pre-made food like this before. I'm pretty particular about what we eat when we're home. It dawned on me the other day that I could start making and freezing food now. My girls love to help in the kitchen and summer is basically here. We should have a full freezer before I know it! Here's what we've made this week:<br />
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<a href="http://www.100daysofrealfood.com/2012/09/25/recipe-whole-spelt-pumpkin-muffins-and-other-spelt-recipes/" target="_blank">Whole Spelt Pumpkin Muffins</a> - I love some <a href="http://www.100daysofrealfood.com/" target="_blank">100 Days of Real Food</a>, as you will see the more of these I post. I had never purchased or used spelt flour before. I have to say I really like it. The more cake-like texture is awesome. I made two batches of these because some got eaten right away!<br />
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<a href="http://www.100daysofrealfood.com/2010/04/14/recipe-chicken-enchiladas/" target="_blank">Chicken Enchiladas</a> (eat one and freeze the other) - This recipe is already doubled and it's perfect! I made one for dinner Tuesday night and one went in the freezer.<br />
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<a href="http://www.100daysofrealfood.com/2011/10/19/recipe-whole-wheat-spaghetti-and-meatballs/" target="_blank">Spaghetti and Meatballs</a> - Actually, just the meatballs. I love Lisa's meatball recipe. I buy jarred sauce (Glen Muir) and boiling noodles is the easy part! I actually tripled this and we ate some for dinner Wednesday night.<br />
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<a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/the-art-and-craft-of-frozen-dinner-kits-freezer-friendly-from-jessica-fisher-198675" target="_blank">Chicken Fajita Kit </a>- I went ahead and did this one because it was so easy to just throw together and freeze.<br />
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<a href="http://www.100daysofrealfood.com/2010/07/08/recipe-whole-wheat-buttermilk-cheese-biscuits/" target="_blank">Buttermilk Cheese Biscuits</a> - Honestly, these were sort of a pain. For me that is. I never have buttermilk so there's that. The dough was weird to work with and I spent the whole time being sure I was screwing it up. The girls loved using our heart shaped cookie cutter to cut them out. I doubled the recipe so now we have A TON of these things. I think they taste just okay, but Lila ate four of them and Evie ate three. So, the good news is that when all of this other food runs out, I am a walking zombie with a newborn, and there's no dinner, they can just eat biscuits all day.<br />
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If you want to follow me on this crazy food making journey <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/janaburrow/my-make-ahead-recipes/" target="_blank">here's the board on Pinterest</a> I've got going. If you have suggestions I'm all ears!<br />
<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-49996559286733608342014-05-22T13:24:00.000-04:002014-05-22T13:24:36.060-04:00My Big Girl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Lila is five. While I have no idea what to do with that, she seems content in her oldness. She wears it well. She doesn't flaunt it, but you can tell she feels just a little bit more grown up. It's a crazy thing to see all of the ways your child becomes a little person. Their likes and dislikes…their dreams and loves…you take it all in and try to remember every last detail. I love birthdays, but there's something really special about your first child's big day. It's a celebration of them and of you entering parenthood all at once. Lila's actual birthday was a tough one. Life got in the way with Evie not feeling well and a host of other random things. And yet, she acted like nothing could change how great it was that this was her day. That sums Lila up. Her spirit and joy never wavers. Here are a few things about her at the age of five...<br />
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She's quick to make a joke like her dad. Her sense of humor is intoxicating (like her dad as well).<br />
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She's smart in a way that scares me sometimes. I'm afraid that by around the third grade she will be smarter than me. It's a good thing she has the sort of head in the clouds side of her too at times (like her mom).<br />
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Speaking of smart, she's reading. Reading as in she went from knowing how to sound out words to reading all of the things. She seems to breeze through the books we have. I have been pinning chapter books for Kindergartners in an effort to step up the game this summer because she loves it so much.<br />
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In addition to being smart, she's got quite the creative spirit. She loves art supplies of any kind, coloring, and doing projects of all sorts. I have also been pinning whatever art projects that are new and exciting for the summer in case we have a rainy one again this year.<br />
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She's even more cuddly and snuggly at the age of five than she ever has been before. She still loves to sit in your lap, hug, and cozy up on the couch. This is a big bonus for the parents who aren't quite mentally comfortable with their oldest being five already.<br />
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She's headstrong in every sense of the word. I hate to say stubborn because that word has such a negative connotation. I would rather she be headstrong and determined than the alternative any day.<br />
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She loves soccer, swimming, rock climbing and anything where she can be physically active!<br />
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She's never met a stranger. I mean this quite literally. We go to a playground and she assumes every kid there is her friend. Some kids are confused when she walks up and just starts talking to them. But before you know it she has them swinging with her and running around like they've been pals all along. This is my absolute favorite thing about her, and I pray every day that she never loses it.<br />
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-76243766446214920792014-05-21T22:17:00.002-04:002014-05-22T12:37:34.460-04:00Holla Hump DayThis week's shout outs go to…<br />
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…baby Burrow #1. We are down to the last few days of Pre-K. If I'm being honest, I can't wait for it to be over. I might be more excited about summer than she is! It's been a long, tough year for so many reasons. This sweet girl has taught me more in her five short years than all of my experiences in the twenty nine years before she arrived. Lila's birthday post will finally be up tomorrow too!<br />
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…baby Burrow #2. Preschool ended today for her and she too is ready for summer. Somewhere in this school year she went from toddler to kid. I haven't been feeling great in the mornings again and she just cuddles in the bed with me talking and touching my face. Today, without prompting, she got a wet washcloth and put it on my head. It felt so nice to be the one being babied for a little bit.<br />
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…baby Burrow #3. Taking a full body selfie is rather hard. Not to mention, I had to stand on a stool because we have no long mirrors in our house. In the past few days I find myself trying to imagine how on Earth I will get bigger than I am right now. My torpedo belly (as it was with Evie too) just keeps inching forward. Even with all of the crazy pregnancy symptoms I'm having I feel really fortunate to be pregnant for a third time. I have that constant feeling of fullness that goes well beyond the physical. It slows me down and makes me take time to embrace things more often. For this I thank you little guy or girl. Anyone want to take a guess as to which it will be?<br />
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…my dear, sweet husband. The man works like a crazy person this time of year. He's rarely home, let alone in town. He deals with nonsense and headaches on the regular. We are both so tired and spent right now. And yet, I can feel how much he misses us every single day. He spent half the day on Sunday cleaning the house because plans were canceled due to the rain. I was cleaning as well, but not like he was. All week I have been walking around this house feeling so thankful for his hard work when he's here and when he's not. Here's to daydreaming about Hawaii my love.<br />
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-51932041484642563372014-05-12T22:45:00.000-04:002014-05-12T22:45:19.084-04:00Little Miss Cinco de MayoI realize it is well past the fifth of May. Life seems to be getting in the way of blogging…which is clearly the best reason to be behind now isn't it? Here is just a small glimpse into the baby that isn't so much a baby anymore in our family. This is devastating and awesome all at once. And let's not even get started on the fact that my first baby will be five tomorrow. Or that both of my babies, as of this weekend, share a room. What is happening??? I also realize that everyone says, "it goes too fast". But FIVE YEARS of being a mother and still feeling somewhat clueless seems entirely unfair. It's a good thing I have two adorable little chickies to show for it.<br />
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Anyway, on with the Evie show!<br />
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She's got this cuteness that sucks you in and squeezes your heart so tightly you feel sure it will burst.<br />
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She knows what she wants and makes no excuses for her certainty. In fact, it's wise not to try and change her mind.<br />
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She can out talk most kids years older than her….not just in words but in volume as well. She will be heard and probably heard first.<br />
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She has a sly smile accompanied by a sneaky look in her eyes when she's trying to be convincing. Oddly, this maneuver is filled with a certain innocence that makes you question if she's pulling one over on you or just being sweet.<br />
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She sings about anything and everything. And when she sings it's often for her benefit only. She seems shocked if you take notice.<br />
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She's not a hugger, but she loves fiercely.<br />
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She calls Sleeping Beauty "Sleeping in the Booty" which pretty much makes her entire family's day every time she says it.<br />
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She loves Playdoh, not wearing shoes, and sweets.<br />
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She already has a crush on the older boy down the street (no matter how much her daddy is opposed to even the slightest mention of it).<br />
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She believes Carson is the best friend to have because "everyone loves Carson, cookies, and watermelon".<br />
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She may be quick to pick a fight with her big sister, but at the end of the day there is no other person on this planet she would rather be like than Lila.<br />
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She expressed a desire for "peanut butter and jelly cake with purple frosting" for her birthday and fully expected us to make it happen.<br />
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This is my Evie. It would takes days and millions of words for me to really express everything I adore about her.<br />
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Maybe tomorrow I will be on time with a post about Lila!<br />
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-56179631642458712732014-05-02T07:00:00.000-04:002014-05-02T07:00:05.541-04:00Lovely Links<br />
Anyone read <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Middle-Place-Kelly-Corrigan/dp/1401340938/ref=pd_bxgy_b_img_z" target="_blank">Glitter and Glue</a> by Kelly Corrigan? Because of this it got bumped to the top of my Audible wish list along with <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Middle-Place-Kelly-Corrigan/dp/1401340938/ref=pd_bxgy_b_img_z" target="_blank">The Middle Place</a>. I cried the big, ugly tears watching this one. Brace yourself.<br />
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<b><i>This is it. This is the great adventure.</i></b></div>
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I adore this band. It seems I have a bit of an obsession with those who just stand together with guitars and sing. Maybe it has something to do with being raised on the Allman Brothers…or maybe it's just how good music should be presented to the world. Either way, this is on repeat for me today…<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="213" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/93098181" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/93098181">The Lone Bellow - The One You Should've Let Go</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/ryanbooth">Ryan Booth</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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In my seemingly insane attempts at home decorating I'm finding that I have an almost palpable need for all things cozy. Not just the feeling of things, but the atmosphere. I find myself daydreaming about whisking my family away for the summer to a farm in the middle of nowhere and just sort of hanging out. In reality that sounds absurd. In my daydream it's magical. This need then gets channeled into my project of the month…the girls new room. The plan is to get it done over Mother's Day weekend. Maybe Seth will let me curl up in the coziest blanket we have and just sort of direct where things should go. Knowing me that sort of situation would last all of five minutes.<br />
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I think the need for comfort is coming from all different directions. It's a busy time of year for my dear husband. This leaves me feeling like a one woman show. <i>Dad would have been sixty today</i>. This leaves me feeling like something huge is missing….still. And I'm pregnant. Which, in itself, is comforting and uncomfortable all at the same time. My babies are going to be three and five in just a matter of days. It's all a little more than my over tired brain can digest. So I seek out the curl up and be quiet moments and things to make sure the digesting of everything goes smoothly.<br />
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<a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Blueberry-Zucchini-Bread/Detail.aspx" target="_blank">This</a> is my go to comfort food. I make a far healthier version, but you get the idea.<br />
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Images like <a href="http://tinywhitedaisies.tumblr.com/post/21794586277" target="_blank">this</a> and <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/61613746/cozy?utm_source=Pinterest&utm_medium=PageTools&utm_campaign=Share" target="_blank">this</a> are blowing up my Pinterest boards as I try to piece together how to make the nursery into a neutral haven of whites and creams. Suddenly I just want big couches, big pillows, and homemade quilts to be surrounding me when I bring this baby home.<br />
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Thank you for indulging my comfort seeking mind. Have a lovely weekend and, if you can, take a minute and find a spot to relax...<br />
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-46612287226258578782014-04-17T15:11:00.001-04:002014-04-17T23:02:11.530-04:00Journey to Here - My Messy Beautiful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had convinced myself not to write for <a href="http://momastery.com/messy-beautiful-warrior-friends/" target="_blank">Momastery's Messy, Beautiful Project</a>. Then a little birdie sent me a little message. It was short and simple and sort of like a nudge. Maybe she meant for it to be or maybe she was just being kind. Either way, she said, "You never know which opportunity will be <i>the </i>opportunity that changes your life." Smart little birdie she is.<br />
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Opportunities are like that, you see. They're often fleeting and gut wrenching. They take time to seize but can be gone in seconds. So, this is me carving out some time and taking the opportunity to share my messy, beautiful. I share it for the writing inspiration that is Momastery, writers and readers alike. I share it for my girls. I even share it for the opportunity to <i>actually be</i> a writer. But most of all, clearly, I share it for me.<br />
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The eight millionth attention grabbing article headline came up on my screen today and sucked me in. You know the type. Fifty (or so) things you should do for this or that thing that ails you. I usually don't get sucked into the silly ones. But when the headline seemed to scream the words "<a href="http://www.lifebuzz.com/start-doing/#!Es7xq" target="_blank">30 Things to Start Doing For Yourself</a>", I took notice. Because my messy beautiful life has become defined by one massive lesson; <b>if you don't do what you should for yourself you cease to do much at all</b>. Learning this lesson has required becoming a mother, losing a father, and finding a dream.<br />
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Number three in the the list of thirty states, "<b>Start being honest with yourself about everything</b>".<br />
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Wouldn't you know that motherhood forces that upon you like a gust of wind so strong, you inevitably land on your face at least once a day because of it? Before becoming a parent I was terribly egotistical about my chosen path towards child rearing. I have a child development degree, years of nannying and teaching experience, and no shortage of love for kids. On paper I am the person who should have become a parent. But everything is prettier on paper. I find it interesting when video clips and short stories attempt to share with non-parents what "it's really like" to have babies. Every last one falls short because there is no knowing ahead of time. There is no understanding. There is only the experiencing of it.<br />
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My naiveté about what hides beneath the surface of who we are reared its ugly head soon enough. I woke up one day and realized I had strong, defining moments of being the parent I never saw coming. There was anger there and frustration so deep, it came through me like a wave. And yet, I trudged on anyway. Things got muddled in the diaper changing, the denied postpartum depression, and the never ending crying of newborn number two. I would see that nasty parent in myself, be afraid of her, and then walk away from her as if she were a figment of my imagination. I hadn't the time or the understanding to be honest with myself and change. Plus, I had no idea how to crawl out from under it all and make sense of anything. Instead I buried it and hoped the next day would be better. I prayed that I would learn to control whatever this was and leave it behind. I read books and blogs and believed it was just a tough time because I had two small children close in age.<br />
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Then, as my oldest daughter started to look more and more like me, I was startled to see her looking at me one day in an all too familiar way. Her hurt feelings at something I had said read like my own childhood diary. Her face was a mirror of mine, reflecting years spent trying to understand harsh words and negative reactions. All of a sudden being honest with myself was all I could think about.<br />
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Number eighteen in the list of thirty states, "<b>Start forgiving yourself and others</b>".<br />
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Just after baby number two had her first birthday, her Poppy, my father, died suddenly of a heart attack. I say suddenly as if it wasn't expected. In terms of grief, it wasn't. But we all saw the writing on the wall. My grandfather died of the same affliction when my dad was seven. My dad was a walking time bomb of heart troubles and unhealthy habits. And yet, that loss and all that came with it stunned me to my core. I was thirty-two and forced to parent two very small children while grieving the loss of my own parent. You can imagine how well that went. My suppressed postpartum took a little over a year to become full-fledged depression, and my parenting suffered under the weight of the guilt and heartbreak. With much urging from those who knew my mental state, I got help.<br />
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I could go on and on about how no one ever talks about getting help. Not really anyway. I could write my own very lengthy article about how terribly our society handles postpartum depression, grief, and mental instability in general.<br />
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Instead, all I'm going to say is that getting help isn't the end all and be all. It's the beginning of something much bigger than that. It's the beginning of forgiving yourself and others.<br />
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Very slowly I began to forgive. I forgave my dad for the parent he had been when his ugly side showed up. I forgave him for expecting too much, for thinking money meant love, and for the years of making me feel small. I forgave him for being absent at times and overbearing at others. I am still working on forgiving him for leaving too soon when he could have stayed.<br />
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<i><b>But, most of all I am slowly forgiving myself for letting his often harsh and hurtful parenting come out in me. </b></i><br />
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There was nothing left but to forgive myself. I became a shell filled with the day to day necessities of life and nothing else. I had no choice but to chip away at my failed expectations of myself as a parent. I had no choice but to just be better. I deserved it and so did my family. <br />
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Number eleven on the list of thirty states, "<b>Start giving your ideas and dreams a chance</b>".<br />
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All of what I've shared so far is the messy part. It's the part that got me back on track to the beautiful. My life is incredibly lovely. I am blessed in ways I never knew possible. This is not lost on me. Tough times do not erase the most amazing parts that are still there. They just make it harder to clearly see the good…until one day the clouds start to part and, if you're lucky/determined/hard working, you see with overwhelming certainty that you've come a long, long way. I became honest with myself. I forgave others and work constantly to forgive myself. In there somewhere I found myself leaning on writing. I've written about all of this in some form or another since my dad passed. It became a constant saving grace. From day to day I don't know where I want it to go or what I want to do with it. That doesn't really matter yet. What matters is that it's given me a voice when I felt so silent, it was hard to breathe. It's taught me that realizing my dream of becoming a mom was just one of the many dreams I've always had.<br />
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When we're little there's a lot of talk about what everyone wants to be when they grow up. Parents talk a great deal about what they want their children to learn from them. These things are great and all, but I feel like maybe we'd all be better off if we talked realistically to our kids about the hard things <i>and</i> the beautiful dreams.<br />
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I want my kids to know they can overcome my failures and the failures of the parenting in generations before me. They don't have to live out the same story if they recognize the difficult parts are a necessary piece of it and rise above.<br />
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I want my kids to dream a lot and dream big and then give those dreams a chance. It took a long time for me to call myself a writer. I've never published one word. But if I don't call myself what I want to be, how will I ever become it? Furthermore, I can't tell my children to follow their dreams without showing them how it's done.<br />
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More than all of this, I want my kids to forgive me for my shortcomings and forgive themselves in the future. Life is too short, messy, and beautiful to live it in a place of regret. Here's to the messy and the beautiful both being important and necessary in their own ways.<br />
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<em style="background-color: white; color: #656565; font-family: Helvetica, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">This essay and I are part of the Messy, Beautiful Warrior Project — To learn more and join us, <a href="http://momastery.com/messy-beautiful-warrior-instructions/" style="border: 0px; color: #009abc; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title="Messy Beautiful Warrior Project Instructions">CLICK HERE! </a>And to learn about the New York Times Bestselling Memoir Carry On Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life, just released in paperback, <a href="http://momastery.com/carry-on-warrior/" style="border: 0px; color: #009abc; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title="Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life">CLICK HERE!</a></em></div>
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<br />Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-550984997213939656.post-40864780235144615022014-04-14T20:45:00.000-04:002014-04-14T20:54:11.769-04:00Breaking Down the Baby Bump Stares<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">There is officially a full on baby belly up in here. I have moved beyond just looking chubby. In fact, being that this is round three of the pregnancy path for me I'm of the feeling that I look more like seven months along than five. At this point I no longer receive stare #1, but felt it necessary to include. Please allow me to take a moment to dissect the way others are viewing me these days...</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>stare #1 - "Is she or isn't she?"</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">As I mentioned, a mere month ago it was hard for others to tell for absolute sure if I was indeed with child. This was the longest lingering stare because the person truly couldn't decide if they should congratulate me or walk away entirely for fear they may have offended me. I didn't mind because God knows it's better to just stare than it is to assume a person is pregnant and say something when they are not.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>stare #2 - "Wise looks and words"</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">This stare involves more than just lingering eyes because it typically comes with some all knowing phrase after the up and down intake of my appearance. If I'm being honest, those who impart stare #2 are, in my experience, older. I'm a terrible judge of age, but if I had to guess I would go with the vast age group covering those who are grandparents. While waiting at the Mall of Georgia for a store called "Maternity Time" to open (late no less) an older gentleman passed by, did the stare, and with a chuckle said, "get ready to be waiting all the time now honey". This was interesting to me. At first I was sort of flattered. He assumed this is my first which I interpreted to mean he thought I looked young. That day I was feeling every bit of the 34 year old stay at home mom that I am. Battered and tired looking would've summed me up. What better way to take what he said as anything other than a compliment? On the other hand, I wanted to respond by saying that if the waiting bothered me I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have taken the plunge into the land of more children than adults in my family.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>stare #3 - "That could be me" - Part one</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">My life involves a lot of women. Some of them I know and some of them are just passers by. Carpool lines, schools, and my activities of choice about town create sort of an abundance of women somewhere near my age everywhere I go. This particular stare typically comes from women who already have a child or two. Depending on how ambitious they are maybe they already have a gaggle of children. Regardless, they stare at me like my head is a big, fat question mark. They may even picture their head on my body. They're thinking, "could I?". Their minds begin to race with questions that I feel confident I could predict simply based on the look on their faces. My baby isn't really a baby anymore...could I have another? Do I want to be pregnant again? Do I want my life to be even more chaotic, crazy, messy, and AMAZING? Could I handle that? Man I miss that belly. Is it the belly I want or everything that comes with it? And so on. They walk away feeling stunned and confused while I'm left standing there looking like a billboard that says, "YES.Yes you can!".</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>stare #4 - "That could be me" - Part two</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">In the same vein of part one, there is a definite group of women with the stare that screams, "NO. No I could not". This stare is by far the shortest. In fact, it's not fair to call it a stare. It's a glance. They see me and their eyes dart so fast it's as if they're thinking maybe if they look away quickly the universe won't know they saw me. If they look away fast enough maybe they can convince themselves they didn't see me at all. They aren't ready. Maybe they are really sure they're done. They are sometimes covered in infant barf while trying to calm a screaming two year old. They haven't slept in YEARS. They want no part of what I'm showcasing and I GET THAT. I've been them. Clearly, I fell victim to stare #3 and and said yes instead of no.</span></span><br />
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<b>stare #5 - "That could be me" - Part three</b></span><br />
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This is undoubtably a hard one to write about. People don't talk about it. They don't acknowledge it because it's hard and heartbreaking. This stare comes from a mama who has the baby in her heart, her mind, and her every breath. She dreams of it, prays for it, and falls asleep crying about it. If I have received this stare in any of my pregnancies I didn't know it, but I know it happens. These women don't want to feel the looks of pity or let on that they feel pain at the sight of someone experiencing something so perfect. They just want to walk on by and do everything in their power to erase the image of yet another pregnant woman from their mind. For those of you out there that feel this pain please know that, for what it's worth, I think about you daily and pray right along with you. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>stare #6 - "Look at her!"</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Some people, like myself, are in awe of pregnancy. They stare because they simply cannot help themselves. They stare because they see something so profoundly awesome they can't look away...nor do they want to. They break out in an ear to ear grin when they see me coming and it makes my day. They bask in the glow like it's a big dose of sunshine. This stare doesn't happen as often as it should, but when it does I've come close to giving a stranger a hug.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>stare #7 - "Bless her heart"</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">This stare always involves my children in tow where the other stares often do not. People giggle a little when they see a pregnant lady with one small child at her feet. They think, good for her! But when they see a pregnant lady with two (or more) small children the stare changes it's tune. Especially if one of the two children is out of sorts. The look holds a strong sense of pity and maybe even a desire to help. It says, "oh dear, you have your hands full and they are about be overflowing". To them I say, well duh. Isn't that sort of the point? </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">My cup overfloweth people. Stare all you want because this baby belly may or may not be the last one for me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Coming soon - a post about <a href="http://www.isntshelovelyblog.com/2014/03/baby-what.html" target="_blank">THE BABYMOON</a> which will include what it's like to be five months pregnant in Hawaii and the stares that accompany such a situation. </span>Jana Burrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07661070303089465262noreply@blogger.com2