tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42156686777329604352022-12-19T15:11:31.392-08:00Life With ScoutOne mom's highly imperfect journey parenting a two-year-old, named Scout.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-90540187150612721512012-12-03T08:27:00.000-08:002012-12-03T08:27:14.508-08:003<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Today, Scout turns three. This means that this blog can no longer be about one mom's highly imperfect journey parenting a two-year-old. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So, do I think that today will be any different then yesterday, last week or two months ago? No. I think Scout will continue to strip naked at the drop of a hat, pee in teacups, draw on herself, swear and talk like a pirate. But, I also think she will continue to be the best known kid on the airplane, a cheerleader for her parents when they are running races, a friend who kisses others "boo boos," a girl who is truly iridescent, and a daughter whose cry will always break my heart. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Happy 3rd Birthday, Scoutzilla!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">With a little luck and help from </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Starbucks</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">, I think that we can make it to your 4th birthday.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout celebrating her 3rd birthday at Build-a-Bear</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-7525655148163445192012-11-19T15:10:00.000-08:002012-11-19T15:10:19.006-08:00"What the Heck?"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">After an extremely long day at work, I arrived at daycare to pick up Scout and my niece, Izzy. I quickly scanned the daycare for Scout. I saw three girls, including my niece, coloring at the table, two boys sitting on the couch playing a video game, and Scout, with her underwear and skirt around her ankles, standing in the middle of the play area. Even though my initial instinct was to turn around and leave her there, like a good mother, I fought that urge. Instead I approached her and said, "Oh Scouty, what are you doing?" This is when I realized why her underwear and skirt were around her ankles. Directly in front of her was a delicate, red child's teacup filled with a not so mysterious yellow liquid. Scout, ever the sly child, looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and said, "What the heck?" </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-54951144923575855312012-11-12T13:44:00.000-08:002012-11-12T13:44:14.625-08:00Celebrity<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rTWCPsshoss/UKFZYKVNdxI/AAAAAAAAAU0/CsLO9Ye8wV0/s1600/KX+Sugar+Rush+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rTWCPsshoss/UKFZYKVNdxI/AAAAAAAAAU0/CsLO9Ye8wV0/s320/KX+Sugar+Rush+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Andy Molloy. kjonline.com<br />
Pictured: Jackson, Wade & Scout<br />
Not Pictured: Me</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Last Sunday, Jackson ran his first 5K race. Given his hesitation about the race, I decided to join Wade, Scout & Jackson to make it a family run. Well, as it turns out Jackson did not need me, and I was the slowest member of my family. However, what made this race a truly special event for Jackson was the fact that his picture made the paper! It was incredibly sweet to watch his excitement and pride at having his picture in the paper. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">And, because this is a blog specifically for Scout. I do have to mention that Scout is the real <b>CELEBRITY</b> in the family. This was <i>not</i> Scout's paper debut. She had been photographed with Wade running a race in Augusta as part of the Bond Brook Summer Trail series in August of 2011, and the photo made the paper again in the spring of 2012.</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-3387040544883771292012-10-22T09:46:00.001-07:002012-10-22T09:46:13.344-07:00Letting Go...<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Anyone who knows me, knows that I can be a "little" uptight (I can hear my husband laughing about the use of "little" right now). However, I was raised to be determined and focused, which can look like uptight behavior.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">While parenting Jackson, it was initially easy to maintain determination and focus. Essentially, he did exactly what I wanted him to do. He potty-trained easily, went to bed without a whimper, and was the model child in public situations. Life was easy, and I continued on the path of having things exactly the way I wanted them to be.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">And, then came Scout... Nothing with Scout is easy (if you know Scout, this is not a lie or an exaggeration of the truth). Scout, who is almost three, still wears pull-ups, rarely ever naps, and is a, dare I say, bully at daycare. Life with Scout is NOT easy, and I can not continue on the path of having things exactly the way I want them to be.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">However, this post is not about praising Jackson and belittling Scout. I love my children equally (sometimes?). This post is actually an apology. Recently, more often than not, I am short tempered with my children, which is not fair to them. I need to let go of having things the way I want them to be or expect them to be. Accidents and unplanned events occur on a daily basis. If I don't start to embrace them and adjust, I will continue to miss out on life (and make my family miserable ☹).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">I love you Scoutie and Jackson!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson & Scout returning home from a recent weekend trip.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A girl after my own heart.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As daring as ever!</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-79238626328666534582012-10-09T06:28:00.000-07:002012-10-09T06:28:07.324-07:00Cheerleader<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Scout does </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-size: large;">EVERYTHING</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"> to the extreme, which can be a good thing or a bad thing. When she is happy or excited, enthusiasm reins her little body. Her smile spreads from ear to ear, and her laughter is contagious. When she is upset, her grief is inconsolable, and her cries break my heart.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">On September 30, 2012, I completed my first (and probably last) marathon. It was not the experience that I had hoped it to be, but I finished with the support of many people. My mother was both wise and generous to book hotel rooms in Portland the night before the race. And by <i>rooms</i>, plural, I mean that my mother, AKA "The Saint," agreed to have both kids spend the night with her, while Wade and I got to spend the night </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-size: large;">ALONE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">. Speaking of Wade, he outdid himself running with me from miles 12-18. Even though he complained about carrying a water bottle, and he gave some of my food away to a fellow runner, I might have given up if it was not for him. At the start of the race, it was a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-size: large;">HUGE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"> treat to see my longtime college (and after college) roommate, Kim. Kim was running her first half marathon and running with her for the first six and a half miles helped me get the marathon off to a good start! By the end of the marathon, I really had nothing left to give emotionally or physically. So, it was nice to be joined by my super speedy sister-in-law who graciously ran, or should I say walked, with me the last six grueling miles. As if the support I received from my mother, Wade, Jen & Kim was not enough, I was also very fortunate to have friends stand in the pouring rain and cheer me on. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">So you might me asking yourself, "How does Scout fit in to this story? This is a blog about Life with Scout." With .2 miles left in the marathon, I was greeted by Scout sitting on top of Wade's shoulders. She, of course, was drenched from the rain, but beaming~a smile that spread from ear to ear. Prompted by both Wade and Jen, Scout cheered for me. The kind of cheer that I so desperately needed to finish the marathon. And while I am convinced that the jostling motion from sitting on Wade's shoulders and running probably gave her brain damage, I am ever so grateful for her ability to do </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-size: large;">EVERYTHING</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"> to the extreme.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While this picture is not from the marathon, it does show her sweet smile!</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-7913155410228520582012-09-18T08:28:00.001-07:002012-09-18T08:28:57.176-07:00That Green Thing<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r8mmRJIWJBQ/UFfFDViAAWI/AAAAAAAAASw/3VuDf9ZjnbQ/s1600/100_5393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r8mmRJIWJBQ/UFfFDViAAWI/AAAAAAAAASw/3VuDf9ZjnbQ/s320/100_5393.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">A few weeks ago I was joking with a colleague that Scout LOVED all </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">green</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> vegetables~ </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">lettuce</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">peas</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">broccoli</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">, even </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">brussel sprouts</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">. So, I guess that I should have not been surprised when I heard Jackson screaming, "Mom, she ate it. That </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">green</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> thing on the counter." The "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">green</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> thing" that Jackson could not identify was a zucchini, and he was correct. Scout had snatched the zucchini from the counter and took a rather large bite leaving bits of zucchini on her face. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you see the zucchini on her face?</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-90559439845295750102012-08-26T13:22:00.000-07:002012-08-26T13:22:38.043-07:00Differences<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">It is often hard to believe that two children born and raised by the same parents could behave so differently. My children looked very similar as toddlers. Both Jackson and Scout had "slightly" larger than normal heads (a Rybarczyk family trait that I, personally, LOVE), bright blue eyes (Wade claims came from him) and golden blonde curly hair. That is where their similarities came to a <i>SCREECHING</i> halt. Jackson is essentially an "easy" child to parent. He is very well behaved, quiet and can entertain himself. I will also add that Jackson is messy (a trait that I am convinced comes from Wade) and highly anxious. Now, Scout is a very different story. She is a "challenging" child to parent. Scout is not well behaved, quiet, or entertained by her toys. In fact, if Scout is EVER quiet or entertaining herself something VERY bad is happening in our home.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So, why all the talk about differences. On our last Friday of summer vacation, I had the "crazy" idea to take three children Jackson, Scout and Tucker (my nephew) to Splashtown (don't worry, I wouldn't embark on such a perilous journey without a little help from </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Starbucks</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">). At Splashtown the differences between Jackson and Scout were blinding. Jackson wanted to know where I was at every moment, despite my best attempts to keep he and his cousin informed. Also, Jackson was fearful of some of the water rides. And, to be honest, I see nothing wrong with a healthy sense of fear. But, I worry when Jackson's fears reduce him to tears. I also worry when a child like Scout has NO fear. Scout wanted nothing to do with me at Splashtown. She would try to "run" away every chance she got and because Scout is small she could maneuver through the crowds better than I. You may be asking yourself where Scout was headed when she was running away? Scout was insistent that she could ride the Tornado. A water slide that was funnel shaped, about a mile off the ground and appeared to make adults pee their pants with fear. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I guess the bottom line is that I would like Jackson and Scout to be less different. Jackson could really use some of Scout's no fear attitude, and Scout really use some of Jackson's overly cautious demeanor. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">(I tried REALLY hard to take pictures of the three kids at Splashtown, but I firmly believe that I would need professional photography equipment comparable to that of National Geographic to photograph Scout running around Splashtown; however, I do have a few pictures from the cottage this weekend.)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson "goofing" around in the kayak</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally, a photo of Scout without a lollipop in her mouth</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mommy & Scout before our kayak voyage</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-85807794767816363092012-08-20T17:05:00.000-07:002012-08-20T17:05:58.915-07:00Iridescent<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss... But every once in a while you find someone who's iridescent, and when you do, nothing will ever compare."</i><br />~From the book, "Flipped" by Wendelin Van Draanen</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So, unfortunately, as a middle school teacher my quotes or references to text are limited to juvenile literature. However, the quote still fits Scout. As her personality continues to develop, I grow to love her more each day. Whether she is standing on a kick board in the water "pretending to surf," spontaneously kissing a friend's "boo boo" or stripping off her clothes and running around a birthday party naked, Scout is truly iridescent; she shines. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aboard the HMS Bounty-Belfast, ME</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Ever since our trip to LegoLand last month, Scout has been fascinated with pirates. It all started innocently enough with the LegoLand show "Battle for Brickbeard's Bounty." At first, I was convinced that Scout would not even sit through this show, so imagine my surprise when she sat so quietly with her eyes fixated on Brickbeard and Sawtooth, the shark. Upon our return home, Scout was still talking about pirates (and Sawtooth), so my mother sent us a link to a youTube video of the show. Scout has watch that video everyday for over a month. But that's not all...she calls herself a pirate, talks like a pirate, and she even smells like a pirate(sometimes)! And when she's not the pirate, her dolls are pirates. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">So, it was quite fortuitous that a replica of the HMS Bounty (a vessel used in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies) was going to be docked in Belfast while we were visiting Searsport this weekend. Scout got to tour a "pirate" ship, and get her picture taken with a "pirate." Secretly, I was hoping that they would invite her to join their crew, sadly, they did not.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>B</i><i style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">atten down the hatches</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">and </span>s</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>hiver me timbers,</i><i style="color: magenta;"> </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> I'm raising a</span><i> pirate</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><i>. </i>Yikes!</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-51210980193720792432012-07-17T10:15:00.000-07:002012-07-17T10:15:59.230-07:00Breaking My Heart...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">There are very few things that can break my heart. Before I had children, I was a sucker for a sappy commercial or news story about a dog. In fact, one day when I was on my way to work, I heard a news story about a dog that was stranded on the roof of a house in a flood zone. I'll admit it; I cried the rest of the trip into work. However, these days, one sure way to break my heart is the sound of Scout's cry. Over the past week, Scout has reverted back to her nightly routine of crying at bedtime. This cry brings on immediate stress and a tug at my heart to comfort her. Wade, who can at times be the more rational parent, has been reminding me that we need to stay strong and not take her out of her bed. However, when your child is crying for Momma it is truly heart breaking. </span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-72686335803510416412012-07-07T07:02:00.000-07:002012-07-07T07:02:26.063-07:00Have you met Scout(zilla)?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Well, the answer to this question is simple. If you were traveling anywhere on the east coast last week, you probably met Scout (aka Scoutzilla). Scout made fast friends with most strangers she met... elderly women gave her stuffed animals, she scored *</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">FREE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">* food on an airplane, and a flight attendant greeted her by name (and gave her a high-five) </span><i>outside</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> of the airport. If you don't know Scout you can be easily charmed by her blue eyes, white blond hair and vibrant personality. She can even charm a smile out of a TSA officer. (Unfortunately, as a result of my poor parenting skills she told everyone that her name was Scoutzilla, oops.) </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">This summer Scout took her third trip to Florida. And, this trip, by far, was her best. Long gone are the days of Scout and I hiding in an airplane bathroom because I am too embarrassed to show my face on the plane. Scout successfully endured the steamy, daily Florida temperatures of 95+ degrees with a smile. She stayed in her stroller at LegoLand and didn't try to jump off of any rides. And, most importantly, to her mommy and nana, she was well behaved during our shopping trips. Scout ROCKED Florida! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout & Jackson at the entrance to LegoLand</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting in her stroller<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout on the Carousel with Nana & Jackson</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout sharing a giggle with Nana</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So, have you met Scout?</span></div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-71840351337203368402012-06-23T16:09:00.000-07:002012-06-23T16:09:44.734-07:00Boudreau + Rybarczyk= Water Lover<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Well, summer vacation is underway. BS (Before Scout) summer meant lounging on the beach, collecting sea glass and playing in the water at the camp. AS (After Scout), well, let's just say trips to the beach or camp have not been so much fun. As stated numerous times before, Scout is extremely active and adding water to Scout's activity level equaled a nervous, cranky and (some might say) crazy mother. However, something is different this year. Scout is entertained by the water. She will sit and play in the water with her water toys (almost) independently. I guess it was bound to happen. Rybarczyk, my last name, means "fisherman" and Boudreau, Wade's last name, means "waters edge." Together, we have created the cutest little water lover...</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Swimming"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And, it wouldn't be fair if I didn't include a photo of Jackson</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">And, it wouldn't really be a blog post about Scout if there wasn't some type of "comical" event that happened. So, here it is...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Scout has been doing so well with her potty training. She has been primarily wearing underwear, so I let her go to the beach in a swimsuit without a swim diaper. After she had been playing peacefully on the beach, she let me know that she had to poop. On the long, hilly and exhausting journey up to the camp, Scout pooped. By the time we reached the camp, and I tried to take off the swimsuit, poop was everywhere. At this point, I was overwhelmed by poo. Seeing my frustration (fear? panic?), Scout starts repeating, "God Dammit, God Dammit" Enter my friend Stacy, who saved my life even though she was laughing at me...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-54274358534653493662012-06-02T15:34:00.000-07:002012-06-02T15:34:01.160-07:00Do you know where your cell phone is?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Usually, I do. However, I have a bad reputation of not responding to people as quickly as they may like me to (um hum, you know who you ALL are...).</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, last night I went to bed with my cell phone on my night stand. And, this morning, I woke up with my cell phone on my night stand. But, after waking up this morning, things got a little busy. Scout had pooped (surprise, surprise), Pilot had puked, and Jackson had to get ready for swim lessons. Just your typical morning. When things were more settled, I went to retrieve my cell phone from the night stand, and it was not there. I searched the bed, the floor and the closet. I searched Scout's room, Jackson's room and the sitting room. Finally, I decided to try my luck and ask Scout where she had put "mommy's phone". In my mind, I thought that she would respond, "I dunno." But, imagine my surprise when her little fingers took mine, and she led me upstairs to Jackson's room. Imagine my even greater surprise when she stood in front of Jackson's TV/VCR combo and pointed to the slot for the video cassette. And, sure as shit (shit, unfortunately has been on my mind a lot lately) there was my phone sitting on top of a cassette inside the VCR. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What can I say? That's life with Scout...</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-33489221242671750962012-05-28T16:32:00.002-07:002012-05-28T16:32:51.823-07:00Nobody is Perfect<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Dear Scout,</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I am 100% certain that you will NOT look back on your childhood, and say, "Wow, my mother was perfect." And, at this point, I will be lucky if you don't remember me as the crazy lady sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth, chanting, "It will be alright..." </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Anyway, just know that I love you, and I am doing the best that I can.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Love, Mom</span></span><br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-15205760843741558842012-05-14T17:11:00.003-07:002012-05-15T04:18:00.486-07:00Mother's Day Weekend<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Happy belated Mother's Day! Mother's Day weekend at our home started off just like any other typical weekend. Scout, with her boundless energy, climbed out of her crib around 6 am and headed out to find her first victim. With Jackson at a sleepover, that meant me. Together, we walked downstairs for some good quality TV time with Blue's Clues (whose clues?). After Scout was settled with Blue and Joe, I started to make a ridiculously complicated raw carrot cupcake recipe. I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">LOVE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> the idea of raw food, and I truly believe it is the best food for your body, but all of the recipes are sooo time consuming. After about an hour and a half of work, this is what my final product looked like:</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicious, but complicated Carrot Cake Cupcakes</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Next, it was off to Searsport to visit my mother for Mother's Day. However, every trip to Searsport, recently, has involved a stop at the Co-op in Belfast. So, we arrived at the Co-op to load up on some of my favorite snack foods and eat lunch. It was no surprise, to us, that while we were eating, Scout would try to steal the cell phone of some poor, unsuspecting woman. </span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cell phone thief & her new friend</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout & Daddy eating lunch</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Finally, we arrived at my mother's house. The weather was amazing, so we headed down to the beach where the kids thoroughly enjoyed the frigid ocean water. </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q9hvMdyMRoI/T7GbDeFgDSI/AAAAAAAAAPE/CMyvIemL_QM/s1600/100_5055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q9hvMdyMRoI/T7GbDeFgDSI/AAAAAAAAAPE/CMyvIemL_QM/s200/100_5055.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">The day was incredible! And to top it off, my mother and I dined on ginormous lobsters for dinner (the kids and Wade wanted pizza).</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aren't they beautiful?</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">The weekend fun did not end on Saturday. On Sunday, after an 8 mile run with the girls, we stopped at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">Starbucks</span> before heading out to Wade's parent's camp. The weather was far better then expected, and we got to enjoy some time on the dock polishing our "piggies." However, all good times, and pedicures, must come to an end, and they did when a very curious Scout fell off the dock into the water! </span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-76305759794182728362012-05-05T16:05:00.000-07:002012-05-05T17:12:11.477-07:00What do you keep in your cabinets?....Scoutzilla<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This afternoon, while I was doing some cooking, Scout found a "new" place to play. It started simple enough. A few pots and pans on the floor, then one child, two children and pillows in a cabinet. No wonder I can't keep my house clean.</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-My4HA3fN5yY/T6WrJXOahPI/AAAAAAAAAOY/T_8Cftd7Ufw/s1600/100_5006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-My4HA3fN5yY/T6WrJXOahPI/AAAAAAAAAOY/T_8Cftd7Ufw/s200/100_5006.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">You may be asking yourself why my children are almost completely naked. However, there is a good reason. While I was cooking, the temperature in the kitchen reached a scorching eighty degrees. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">And, if there were any questions about my parenting style or lack there of the answer to this simple question will end all debate. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Wade (to Scout): "What's your name?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Scout: "Scoutzilla"</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Yes, I have trained my daughter that her name is Scoutzilla. </span></span></span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-15946589501702697942012-04-29T17:43:00.000-07:002012-04-29T17:44:12.929-07:00Safety First...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think that I can safely summarize this post with two pictures of Scout from this weekend...</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eIKpzC4nimk/T53ewb0XkiI/AAAAAAAAANc/qdZ9q5m7Kkw/s1600/100_4937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eIKpzC4nimk/T53ewb0XkiI/AAAAAAAAANc/qdZ9q5m7Kkw/s200/100_4937.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Who needs clothes when you have a helmet and a pull-up. Rock-on my little Evil Kenevil!</span></span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-27058719514066435052012-04-22T10:03:00.000-07:002012-04-22T11:36:11.602-07:00An Unsolved Mystery...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Scout's curiosity and zest for life are often the cause of unusual events within our home. So, while this has become par for the course, yesterday's unusual event left, even, me scratching my head. </span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Scout is doing a great job with her potty training; however, she still has accidents. For this reason, I always have Scout wear a pull-up when we are outside of the home. Yesterday, we had a morning out with my mother, Scout and Jackson's Nani. When we left the house, Scout was wearing a pull-up. When I took her to the bathroom at the restaurant, she was wearing a pull-up. And, you guessed it, when we came home she was wearing a pull-up. But, just 2 hours later, without the help of anyone, she was wearing underwear and her pull-up was missing. So, what happened? I have no idea. When we returned home, Scout, Jackson & I headed outside to enjoy the sunshine. I planted some pansies and raked the garden. Jackson and Scout played with the outside faucet and rocks in the driveway. At one point, Scout went into the house, but I watched her go in and stand in front of the TV. Within two minutes, she was outside again. As I was picking up the rake and the kid's toys, Scout asked me to hold her, so I picked her up. Immediately, I felt that she was not wearing a pull-up; she had on underwear. I carried her inside and checked the bathroom for the pull-up, and it was not there. I couldn't believe it actually would have been put in the trash can, but I checked there too~no pull-up. I asked Jackson if he knew what happened to Scout's pull-up, and he had no idea. At this point, I gave up. I figured the pull-up would eventually turn up, and it did...</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Later that evening, I was putting my keys away in the "key jar." As I approached the jar, I saw something white sticking out of it. You guessed it... the missing pull-up. Another unsolved mystery courtesy of Scout!</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lwQiRouJOpU/T5Q3pUVpivI/AAAAAAAAANM/Gq3ImmwSWP8/s1600/100_4894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lwQiRouJOpU/T5Q3pUVpivI/AAAAAAAAANM/Gq3ImmwSWP8/s200/100_4894.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The missing pull-up in the key jar</td></tr>
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<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">And, because she is so adorable, I couldn't resist adding this photo from earlier today. </span></span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LZyWpkTOLaI/T5Q3xT7FR-I/AAAAAAAAANU/KUlhFEg5zoM/s1600/100_4917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LZyWpkTOLaI/T5Q3xT7FR-I/AAAAAAAAANU/KUlhFEg5zoM/s200/100_4917.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sporting sunglasses with a raincoat & rainboots</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-48626083719873964422012-04-21T11:16:00.000-07:002012-04-21T11:21:08.771-07:00"I LOVE Boston!"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Scout will happily tell you that she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">LOVES</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> Boston, and I think that I can safely say that the residents of Boston </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">LOVE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> Scout. She was a big hit! From the moment we hit the expo, Scout was high-fiving sales associates, charming people with her big blue eyes, and receiving "free" samples of every chocolate refueling confection. </span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOs1ljWQGYY/T5LnCwExj7I/AAAAAAAAAKE/h81MlHcG_k0/s1600/100_4851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOs1ljWQGYY/T5LnCwExj7I/AAAAAAAAAKE/h81MlHcG_k0/s200/100_4851.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside the Expo</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">After the expo, we headed off to Wade & Ward's aunt and uncle's home, outside of Boston, which would serve as our "home" for the next couple of days. The weather was gorgeous, so all of the kids spent time playing outside.</span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CTG1j3NBQlI/T5LoetET3_I/AAAAAAAAAKM/jh6QEV8_I40/s1600/100_4855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CTG1j3NBQlI/T5LoetET3_I/AAAAAAAAAKM/jh6QEV8_I40/s200/100_4855.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coloring with chalk & sporting a Jet Blue sweatband from the expo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1fvKOZzMERM/T5Lpd4Y2qKI/AAAAAAAAAKs/UB1sILtoqPU/s1600/100_4858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1fvKOZzMERM/T5Lpd4Y2qKI/AAAAAAAAAKs/UB1sILtoqPU/s200/100_4858.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout, Ward & Izzy on the trampoline</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Early the next morning, we were anxiously watching weather reports, packing bags, and getting four kids ready for the trek to mile 23 of the Boston Marathon. We started our journey in Grafton and took the T to North Station.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sfE8t6y7juc/T5LyTGNbjsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bFrd68fWseM/s1600/100_4871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sfE8t6y7juc/T5LyTGNbjsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/bFrd68fWseM/s200/100_4871.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the T</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Immediately upon arrival in Boston, we headed to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">Starbucks</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> for an emergency caffeine fix. And, although, people, who shall remain nameless, tease me about my </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">LOVE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> of </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">Starbucks, Starbucks</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> did help us find our way home later that day.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DXR9XmD4RAk/T5LzX3OGe8I/AAAAAAAAAM0/RSlae9ZQMXA/s1600/100_4625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DXR9XmD4RAk/T5LzX3OGe8I/AAAAAAAAAM0/RSlae9ZQMXA/s200/100_4625.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oooh, how I LOVE you!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></span></td></tr>
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<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Next, we began our "death march" to mile 23 of the marathon. While the walk was not a problem for Jen and I, it did cause some problems for Tucker and Jackson. Jackson tripped and fell in the middle of the street, and Tucker, depending on what version of the story you heard, twisted his ankle 3 to 9 times. However, thanks to Jen, we had an awesome spot awaiting our arrival on Beacon street. The kids were able to refuel and cool down while the adults watched elite runners pass by on the street below. It was truly an amazing experience.</span></span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rwByV9QhrJc/T5L0z0Ry5JI/AAAAAAAAAM8/aSeam7uCK6U/s1600/100_4873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rwByV9QhrJc/T5L0z0Ry5JI/AAAAAAAAAM8/aSeam7uCK6U/s200/100_4873.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout & Izzy refueling and waiting for their dads <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Finally, Jen received the text that Wade and Ward had reached the 30k mark. We anxiously gathered our belongings and headed to the street to cheer the guys on. Unfortunately, my pictures are horrible. Trying to find Wade and Ward in the crowd was nearly impossible, and when they arrived it happened so fast.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5UwJLlGbCkw/T5L1t8oj8HI/AAAAAAAAANE/Hv478TmLfYw/s1600/100_4884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5UwJLlGbCkw/T5L1t8oj8HI/AAAAAAAAANE/Hv478TmLfYw/s200/100_4884.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark hugging Wade</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eFTGp4pgBww/T5Lv_RiK03I/AAAAAAAAAME/bXdZbmTpo5E/s1600/100_4883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eFTGp4pgBww/T5Lv_RiK03I/AAAAAAAAAME/bXdZbmTpo5E/s200/100_4883.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ward (with Tucker) holding back the flood of tears</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Now, it was a race to the finish for the guys and the families. Learning our lesson from our 3 mile trek, we hopped on the T to reach the finish line. Scout, once again, made fast friends. She was extremely fascinated with the man standing in front of us, and I was extremely apprehensive about this stranger. As it turns out, he couldn't have been nicer. Scout's new friend, Angel, entertained her for at least 3 stops of the T.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">As worried as I was about Scout in Boston, I must agree with her new saying, "I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">LOVE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> Boston!"</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Now, if only Wade and Ward could qualify again for next year...</span></span></span></div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-5652934807551866062012-04-13T07:11:00.003-07:002012-04-13T07:12:03.929-07:00What Could Possibly Go Wrong?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Lately, it seems like I have become a "worry procrastinator". While I am a worrier, I have so much on my plate that I don't worry, or, for that matter, plan for events until a day or two before they actually occur. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Well, let the worrying begin...</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">On Sunday, our family will travel to Boston, so Wade can run the Boston Marathon. I am extremely proud of Wade, and his brother Ward. They have worked incredibly hard to gain entry to this marathon, and they have definitely put in the miles to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">ROCK</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> Boston. While I am slightly worried for Wade ( I want him to run the best race possible), he is not the main source of my worry.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">This is the main source of my worry...</span></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hXTY7YZuSr8/T4guCgNxcuI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/LJTXBtzJRro/s1600/100_4610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hXTY7YZuSr8/T4guCgNxcuI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/LJTXBtzJRro/s200/100_4610.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout, taking a little rest in time-out.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As I am writing this post, the following questions are running through my mind...How am I going to keep Scout safe in Boston? Rather, how am I going to keep Boston safe from Scout? Will Jackson be scarred for life? Are leashes "legal" for children? Where will time-out be located? </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">What could possibly go wrong?</span></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TO1djcEjWms/T4gy-vh8afI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/5juG3Gm6JGE/s1600/yoursign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TO1djcEjWms/T4gy-vh8afI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/5juG3Gm6JGE/s320/yoursign.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-30064689481594961272012-04-08T12:49:00.000-07:002012-04-08T13:09:37.923-07:00Easter Photos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I must confess that I am exhausted! Between the nervous energy of running a half marathon and preparing for numerous Easter festivities, I am officially wiped-out. However, I thought that I would share some pictures of Easter with Scout. </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mThR95PLzBU/T4HmREh1FSI/AAAAAAAAAI8/H91_SYQPpPA/s1600/100_4720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mThR95PLzBU/T4HmREh1FSI/AAAAAAAAAI8/H91_SYQPpPA/s200/100_4720.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Easter Bunny arrived bright & early this morning~about 5:50ish!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ENgkkUzXv_M/T4HmknsAfOI/AAAAAAAAAJE/se3FMzcoNUw/s1600/100_4730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ENgkkUzXv_M/T4HmknsAfOI/AAAAAAAAAJE/se3FMzcoNUw/s200/100_4730.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shortly after a candy-filled breakfast, Scout climbed into her Easter basket with her new bunny.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uJrrvGn5PhY/T4Hm1h1qKzI/AAAAAAAAAJM/0GcV83boLBc/s1600/100B4760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uJrrvGn5PhY/T4Hm1h1qKzI/AAAAAAAAAJM/0GcV83boLBc/s200/100B4760.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For approximately 1 hour today, Scout was clean and looking like a little lady.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ukH26FoDOPQ/T4HnObXW0QI/AAAAAAAAAJU/zNRdCRHnFtM/s1600/100B4830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ukH26FoDOPQ/T4HnObXW0QI/AAAAAAAAAJU/zNRdCRHnFtM/s200/100B4830.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson, Nannie & Scout trying hard to get the "perfect" Easter picture.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkDZWuYsUMU/T4Hnns_xJzI/AAAAAAAAAJc/sK-CFN8qNsg/s1600/100_4846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkDZWuYsUMU/T4Hnns_xJzI/AAAAAAAAAJc/sK-CFN8qNsg/s200/100_4846.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout searching for Easter treasure during the egg hunt.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UnWtBaZtC-k/T4HoEX8-FcI/AAAAAAAAAJk/pTTFMFLgOWk/s1600/100_4834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UnWtBaZtC-k/T4HoEX8-FcI/AAAAAAAAAJk/pTTFMFLgOWk/s320/100_4834.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout & Mommy sharing a sweet Easter moment.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Happy Easter!</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">P.S. I totally for forgot to include this picture of Scout's hair from this morning...</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6y8WmDKmg_M/T4HwM1ZuPeI/AAAAAAAAAJs/x_I5o2FtNqs/s1600/100_4723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6y8WmDKmg_M/T4HwM1ZuPeI/AAAAAAAAAJs/x_I5o2FtNqs/s200/100_4723.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-12866570527991108222012-04-08T11:58:00.003-07:002012-04-08T13:26:43.060-07:00"I run fast!"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">A couple of weeks ago, I registered Wade, Jackson and myself for </span></span><a href="http://www.racetherunways.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Race the Runways</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> in Brunswick, Maine. Wade was registered for the mile, Jackson was registered for the kid's fun run (about 1/4 mile), and I was registered for the half marathon. I knew that Jackson would not be too excited about the actual run, but he would like the swag (i.e. shirt, bag, and medal). As the race approached, I realized that I had probably registered the wrong child for the kid's fun run. Even though Scout is only two, she loves running. In fact, she tells people, "I run fast." So, yesterday was the big day. Scout made her running debut.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fe22FNfo4HQ/T4HdQ3s5GjI/AAAAAAAAAIM/4JxRqMIcCBE/s1600/100_4715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fe22FNfo4HQ/T4HdQ3s5GjI/AAAAAAAAAIM/4JxRqMIcCBE/s200/100_4715.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A healthy pre-race snack</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F9VZhh3HhHw/T4HhHkgYHjI/AAAAAAAAAIs/c0MK5gLzmXk/s1600/524168_3711714995846_1364786973_33566079_471489262_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F9VZhh3HhHw/T4HhHkgYHjI/AAAAAAAAAIs/c0MK5gLzmXk/s200/524168_3711714995846_1364786973_33566079_471489262_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking out to the starting line</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_yAal8D5DH4/T4Hd1yVUyEI/AAAAAAAAAIc/K76D4gLUugM/s1600/coming+in!!!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="111" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_yAal8D5DH4/T4Hd1yVUyEI/AAAAAAAAAIc/K76D4gLUugM/s200/coming+in!!!.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Racing" to the finish</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JAlEICjj_z0/T4HeoygZ5WI/AAAAAAAAAIk/1FJTQJVsq9g/s1600/100_4849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JAlEICjj_z0/T4HeoygZ5WI/AAAAAAAAAIk/1FJTQJVsq9g/s200/100_4849.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout's first medal!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Congratulations, Scouty! You do run fast.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">And...</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">For anybody that cares, Scout's mom ran fast yesterday too. I was able to complete the half marathon in under two hours (just barely). However, I did take over 12 minutes of last year's time.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8gPL2HKsiNM/T4HjoukpNpI/AAAAAAAAAI0/CEkJnCOAis8/s1600/560289_394691603882339_128644943820341_1606887_1068300067_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8gPL2HKsiNM/T4HjoukpNpI/AAAAAAAAAI0/CEkJnCOAis8/s200/560289_394691603882339_128644943820341_1606887_1068300067_n.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Official time: 1:59:15</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Thank you to Maine Running Photos! Photos 2, 3 & 5 were taken from:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> http://mainerunningphotos.com/</span></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-87077583959426385292012-04-02T07:03:00.002-07:002012-04-02T07:04:43.325-07:00Translation...I Rock!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Anyone who has parented a child or who has provided daily care for a young child knows that one of your many jobs is to serve as a translator for the foreign language young children speak. For example, one of Scout's favorite sayings is: "Me hold you." Translation: "Pick me up, and hold me." Some translations are not this easy, and one infamous phrase uttered by Scout had been a mystery to me until early this morning. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Scout has been having a difficult time sleeping through the night. She would prefer to sleep with Wade and I, but we would prefer that she did not. So, for the better part of the week, she will wake up one or two times a night, and cry out, "I want my mommy-uh." This is not a knew phrase for Scout. She has been saying this for months, mostly when she is sick, and the word "mommy-uh" has been a mystery to me. She does not call me "mommy-uh" during the day, so why would she call me "mommy-uh" at night? Well, very early this morning, I solved the mystery of "mommy-uh." Scout woke up screaming, "I want my mommy-uh" this morning around 1:30. And maybe it was the repetition of this phrase, or my early morning brain kicking in, but it FINALLY made sense. Translation: "I want my mommy to come." Oh yeah, I rock! </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-44EjHSEwpM8/T3mmcNu8BuI/AAAAAAAAAIE/G6oUPgTFrP0/s1600/100_4706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-44EjHSEwpM8/T3mmcNu8BuI/AAAAAAAAAIE/G6oUPgTFrP0/s200/100_4706.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scout & Mommy this morning</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> will also share another quick, cute story from this morning. Scout has a little "boy" friend at daycare. And, these two really do like each other, but they are both very, very active (aka wild) children. Scout and her little "boy" friend arrived at daycare at the same time this morning. As I was carrying Scout in, the little boy was being carried in by his father. I said to Scout, "Will you be a good girl today?" And, the father said to me, "Your kidding, right?" I replied, "I'm not kidding, just praying."</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Happy Monday!</span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-66187175669795017522012-03-31T15:58:00.001-07:002012-03-31T15:58:29.532-07:00Just Your Typical SaturdaySaturday usually begins with me doing some type of house cleaning. This Saturday I got some help cleaning from my biggest mess maker.<br />
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Next, I chased Scout around the house, while she played dress up.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qm8pGzLP7sg/T3eEJgAzGLI/AAAAAAAAAHs/a1h1KUGCwnQ/s1600/100_4671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qm8pGzLP7sg/T3eEJgAzGLI/AAAAAAAAAHs/a1h1KUGCwnQ/s200/100_4671.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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Then we had quite a few trips to time-out. In fact, we had so many trips to time-out, Scout decided she needed to add a chair to the time-out corner. No Joke!</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6h3uGoSM2Y/T3eEydmMbJI/AAAAAAAAAH0/JbnjJea1JHQ/s1600/100_4693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6h3uGoSM2Y/T3eEydmMbJI/AAAAAAAAAH0/JbnjJea1JHQ/s200/100_4693.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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As our evening was winding down, Scout and Wade shared a giggle or too.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dV4WUiExBk0/T3eKtpRznZI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Bu4X9aAylcg/s1600/100_4697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dV4WUiExBk0/T3eKtpRznZI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Bu4X9aAylcg/s200/100_4697.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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And now that Scout is off to bed, it is time to clean up yet again!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4215668677732960435.post-57939786019684196482012-03-26T15:19:00.002-07:002012-03-26T15:31:08.941-07:00"Nobody puts Baby in the corner"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Within the past few weeks, Scout has grown increasingly interested in her baby dolls. At first she was only interested in stripping off her baby doll's clothes. No matter how many times I put an outfit on Baby, she always ended up naked (much like Scout). My mother would ask me, "Why is Scout's doll naked? Doesn't she have any clothes?" This comment kind of hurt my feelings. Like, somehow I was responsible for mistreating Baby. Then Scout's day care provider gave Scout an outfit for Baby. Now, I felt like people outside of my family thought that I was mistreating Baby. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Well, Baby is still naked, but she...</span></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L2Po52dN6zg/T3Do-TVWJhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/EWjDAszE4J8/s1600/100_4679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L2Po52dN6zg/T3Do-TVWJhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/EWjDAszE4J8/s200/100_4679.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">has time-outs</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KOLjaQI_Cjs/T3DpZZ4rwqI/AAAAAAAAAHM/weZzTvvITqg/s1600/100_4683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KOLjaQI_Cjs/T3DpZZ4rwqI/AAAAAAAAAHM/weZzTvvITqg/s200/100_4683.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">"fake" sleeps with Scout on the sofa</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7LaURKTGVw8/T3DtVVEl0gI/AAAAAAAAAHc/wrirgOxvM7E/s1600/100_4680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7LaURKTGVw8/T3DtVVEl0gI/AAAAAAAAAHc/wrirgOxvM7E/s200/100_4680.JPG" width="150" /></span></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">and, she has unfortunate shopping cart accidents.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">So, I think that I can guess what you are thinking. If children "act"out what they see and experience, what the heck is happening at Scout's house?</span></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11762818451876811688noreply@blogger.com1