tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14597595818518569362024-02-18T22:54:52.970-05:00Beginning Ever AfterAshleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02883104495322121919noreply@blogger.comBlogger371125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-53588123446783529352013-12-18T00:23:00.003-05:002013-12-18T00:23:41.600-05:00The day we found our perfect Christmas tree.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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And made so many memories. Complete with pizza. </div>
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My husband always has to have pizza. (Not pictured.)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kisses!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Honk!" </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiedpK-WlC2Duw556UlkqUT6mBnqytulXhEcy8X3mLXiTrqny0WMeujVvjpjpAcbwYFcqhmOQyVJ4fws1wFyXIcYsbemDy9JlG6nWpYWru75KUd9IzLfIOhCJwCE_8us-n3wZF4TXSKXOc/s1600/IMG_0406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiedpK-WlC2Duw556UlkqUT6mBnqytulXhEcy8X3mLXiTrqny0WMeujVvjpjpAcbwYFcqhmOQyVJ4fws1wFyXIcYsbemDy9JlG6nWpYWru75KUd9IzLfIOhCJwCE_8us-n3wZF4TXSKXOc/s640/IMG_0406.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching Daddy</td></tr>
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Sorry for all the crickets. Blogs are merging and fun new-website-making things are happening over here amidst the Christmas bustle. I'll be back in full swing after the New Year, so stay tuned!</div>
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Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!</div>
Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-39912222656077113562013-12-18T00:11:00.000-05:002013-12-18T00:11:07.136-05:00Simon Patrick | 4 Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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four months.</div>
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Our smiley Simon. Ridiculously happy. Drool machine. Loves his fists. Found his thumb. Watches big brother. Smiles at everyone. Super strong. Ticklish. Has Wells ears. Starting to look more like Daddy. Perfect almond eyes, still dark and darkening.</div>
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Perfect everything.</div>
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Simon Patrick, we love you to pieces, and way more than <a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2013_10_01_archive.html" target="_blank">last month</a>.</div>
Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-25998452825596749242013-11-19T15:47:00.002-05:002013-11-19T15:47:29.325-05:00Super MomDear sweet Postman,<br />
<br />
Thank-you for calling me "super mom," as I pushed my over-sized double stroller into the small little post office. Miraculously, after nap time, and fresh diapers, shoes, and a half-mile walk to deliver two packages, we made it before 5 o'clock. And my babies are still smiling.<br />
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Of course you don't know that I left my front and back door unlocked.<br />
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Actually, I left the front door wide open.<br />
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Just, you know, lettin' the house air out. In broad daylight. When no one is home.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYd_94g0KmRZRYNV588X0ZAR0CTU5KJiFxlg5pu4Hae2IBmK_sTX7b64ouQUJ-A_p6PsD-Z-xRIahMd3dP-1T7SWohDyLuoErusgPDieVXmHLM1L8wWH7oSC-7TW6RLzwiaPGuzhgTF9I/s1600/IMG_0021-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYd_94g0KmRZRYNV588X0ZAR0CTU5KJiFxlg5pu4Hae2IBmK_sTX7b64ouQUJ-A_p6PsD-Z-xRIahMd3dP-1T7SWohDyLuoErusgPDieVXmHLM1L8wWH7oSC-7TW6RLzwiaPGuzhgTF9I/s640/IMG_0021-2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
But when you called me "super mom" it just made my day.<br />
<br />
Because I really don't feel like it most of the time. Most days I just try to do the next thing next, and not attempt anything too heroic.<br />
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I'm learning my limits, and how to have reasonable expectations for myself. It makes our home a happier place. <a href="http://www.woolandwanderlust.com/" target="_blank">My sister </a>taught me that. (She's taught me a lot, actually.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLSgxlv0M9DZ5oHtTbQs8K4tXy6qFajcOYJIgCAyJSuJK-BEiPepUqbOAcXLLEQiDo4yGP5gmZbkcpfLU_6zKLLqb57H4r3dyFNArUWhlrqRN0M_XTk7iCCCp3_1CiYpytC7fj2NAEVk/s1600/IMG_0032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLSgxlv0M9DZ5oHtTbQs8K4tXy6qFajcOYJIgCAyJSuJK-BEiPepUqbOAcXLLEQiDo4yGP5gmZbkcpfLU_6zKLLqb57H4r3dyFNArUWhlrqRN0M_XTk7iCCCp3_1CiYpytC7fj2NAEVk/s640/IMG_0032.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I'm almost two years into this mommy thing. I wish I could say it was getting easier, but actually, it's just getting harder.<br />
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Babies? Oh, yes. Sweet smelling, innocent, snuggly, sleepy, precious little babies. I understand those. The answer to all their problems: milk and snuggles. And I can do milk and snuggles, no problem!<br />
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Toddlers? Stubborn-ness. Deliberate disobedience. Temper tantrums. Impatience. Unkindness.<br />
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Those are nasty things, and it breaks my mother's heart to see them come from the child that was once my precious newborn.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGxbaBkuGm5vKPc6XTnzumQrPyVc6IvHQ9oO0__3c9q5fKpCP6JfHQlNFrEantL9bJQpcBcE1_Y1_YfLi9mdhf9eU4oGBGupa0wD5aF89RfYKPZlkw2s1g1dWZ2ny28Gsv6l0ZwRaCuk/s1600/IMG_0397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGxbaBkuGm5vKPc6XTnzumQrPyVc6IvHQ9oO0__3c9q5fKpCP6JfHQlNFrEantL9bJQpcBcE1_Y1_YfLi9mdhf9eU4oGBGupa0wD5aF89RfYKPZlkw2s1g1dWZ2ny28Gsv6l0ZwRaCuk/s640/IMG_0397.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPS04wvVsZ6saahIQ8sIV5yY-u7JaDL5OwiNM5kuv-REfEgon14Slcg5_VDzllL_Tp0-GOCnZydE5LycYU5M985vai0TqTocT85lSqlJ-1SHf3hSjusPEL0oKMCra0mZJEe-o4law2tdc/s1600/IMG_0393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPS04wvVsZ6saahIQ8sIV5yY-u7JaDL5OwiNM5kuv-REfEgon14Slcg5_VDzllL_Tp0-GOCnZydE5LycYU5M985vai0TqTocT85lSqlJ-1SHf3hSjusPEL0oKMCra0mZJEe-o4law2tdc/s640/IMG_0393.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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We say Ralphie got a double dose of stubborn from each of his parents, which makes for one strong-willed little man. This will serve him well someday. But, his heart needs to be soft towards instruction and learning - towards us, but most importantly toward Jesus.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPz_GPXqNC8s3MYxgXT-C7EKtq0JB15bkAeOsHdvZAoxbyQ3NfwMQXJijPHKDMTW2cliWgjY-mDzNbqHrjya4ZJRfDRg7yRnIHbdnqqaUl3B7JoYvn0VArnvC3YBGhPia6fAB_6e6_7TQ/s1600/IMG_0385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPz_GPXqNC8s3MYxgXT-C7EKtq0JB15bkAeOsHdvZAoxbyQ3NfwMQXJijPHKDMTW2cliWgjY-mDzNbqHrjya4ZJRfDRg7yRnIHbdnqqaUl3B7JoYvn0VArnvC3YBGhPia6fAB_6e6_7TQ/s640/IMG_0385.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Teaching that to him consistently, day in and day out, is what makes this mothering job so tough.Yet, there is something wonderful about teaching truth, goodness and beauty to a nature so bent towards brokenness and sin. As exhausting, difficult, and all-consuming as it is, it is lovely.<br />
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Toddlers? They teach you something else, too. Love. Unconditional, uninhibited, fierce, unyielding love.<br />
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All the bad moments added up still don't even compare to all the love.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjB8_17_t8uyxGQdDGNzB-rTvCpfn3vEmIn1Bzf1VXcf2KZZWXe7iDmJxliLt3QUAg2IQSxyJu5ZGHM4pkwRN5F-E96lPciuOvB7R9nc1ciJzOuyzW-vw0fjEY-HLG9ukjXHvde0iIisU/s1600/IMG_0778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjB8_17_t8uyxGQdDGNzB-rTvCpfn3vEmIn1Bzf1VXcf2KZZWXe7iDmJxliLt3QUAg2IQSxyJu5ZGHM4pkwRN5F-E96lPciuOvB7R9nc1ciJzOuyzW-vw0fjEY-HLG9ukjXHvde0iIisU/s640/IMG_0778.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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And they teach you joy. Because when you're nearly two years old the world has a million treasures to offer, and your heart is ready to burst with excitement. <i>No matter how hard life was just two seconds ago. </i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWzZ8LtCqLe0R2cPSeqQ_xRKA0CFpfQZBGz-vSmLfPur3P84kJjSJiOCUlXX3M5Lc4C96Bq4LMTtNbukE7_p_VP0dwupVultXlXp446krssv8gjLpefP2NP9Jh-y5SfDQZ9rQAl1aEZ_8/s1600/IMG_0779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWzZ8LtCqLe0R2cPSeqQ_xRKA0CFpfQZBGz-vSmLfPur3P84kJjSJiOCUlXX3M5Lc4C96Bq4LMTtNbukE7_p_VP0dwupVultXlXp446krssv8gjLpefP2NP9Jh-y5SfDQZ9rQAl1aEZ_8/s640/IMG_0779.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<i><br /></i>
Today, we made it to the post office. And hopefully we'll make it home for dinner, baths, and bedtime stories. These are the good ol' days I want to soak up forever, brokenness and all. But, I'd be lying if I said anything good about today came from what I did. If motherhood has shown me anything it's this:<br />
<br />
Truthfully, I am no super mom. I just serve a super God. (My sister taught me that one, too.)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisu1fvqrkDmF0KK-Z6VJN7WRbTAj1VhqBfOshceKNVClag2dpbTswm2gmuDsNmxF0M5pef4frm2dsXSwSqtO4vfC_7G3pd1Tf4meILp9T9iyTkYEpJ82C9-5ICoGvkK6UDy9hx-_SXsAU/s1600/IMG_0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisu1fvqrkDmF0KK-Z6VJN7WRbTAj1VhqBfOshceKNVClag2dpbTswm2gmuDsNmxF0M5pef4frm2dsXSwSqtO4vfC_7G3pd1Tf4meILp9T9iyTkYEpJ82C9-5ICoGvkK6UDy9hx-_SXsAU/s640/IMG_0030.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-64827490827957600432013-11-12T16:59:00.001-05:002013-11-12T16:59:40.299-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This face.</div>
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Greets me every morning with a smile and "crack-uh?" (<i>cracker</i>).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLcmMYHH-dOxWZfz1xrxjQ13s84gLpWIPGaw2cQgbB3_4Zavkg9WxoAmdNWiqAgstc217dP5gy0KcNqeDjD31TU4A3-2OkY-wnkISu35soWecMiZJ3agBCsgdatsIbS7wj0YTzxieGwc/s1600/IMG_0113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLcmMYHH-dOxWZfz1xrxjQ13s84gLpWIPGaw2cQgbB3_4Zavkg9WxoAmdNWiqAgstc217dP5gy0KcNqeDjD31TU4A3-2OkY-wnkISu35soWecMiZJ3agBCsgdatsIbS7wj0YTzxieGwc/s640/IMG_0113.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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He is on the go from sun up to sun down. Exploring, destroying, discovering.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzRt9NKvmvmPnTcwqL7gZLzT3ZnT40n61YEk6SupM5QGOW7C8nRn1GZXQbD7giqeMn000kwohy3sX8cQrI2BJbbhC6xQ0VGOI48Gr7t_GAe6hSkqGfGPl27rWxQFQwOevmjH0brTmTsmE/s1600/IMG_0094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzRt9NKvmvmPnTcwqL7gZLzT3ZnT40n61YEk6SupM5QGOW7C8nRn1GZXQbD7giqeMn000kwohy3sX8cQrI2BJbbhC6xQ0VGOI48Gr7t_GAe6hSkqGfGPl27rWxQFQwOevmjH0brTmTsmE/s640/IMG_0094.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwDmfwfiUACdMZPIZhZYMnTNwDterkfOGnE5YT3YYyvKOj-ZxQhssRTy7TmDKx6-rxKPLlMeEwtX92i0fvdX6znLc2Tax2zgDEpPKyfeYPa_wST2IXKLZiyoTTATFni0j2B_bjwT6-y8/s1600/IMG_0690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwDmfwfiUACdMZPIZhZYMnTNwDterkfOGnE5YT3YYyvKOj-ZxQhssRTy7TmDKx6-rxKPLlMeEwtX92i0fvdX6znLc2Tax2zgDEpPKyfeYPa_wST2IXKLZiyoTTATFni0j2B_bjwT6-y8/s640/IMG_0690.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Except for the sweet 2-3 hours that are nap time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE5_Qh2pD0mP1CR9U7KvMvZCpPrBE_d0oMXOuttN_7B_iuGkzbR31CY2auI-D7RGYJE9wB6gZZeieHfpQtZMoUyl_bmC0ElWK3nNSb1CIXL57YP6DCKsMwuy5Ux5_0fRKKpwd5KH5xO54/s1600/IMG_0194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE5_Qh2pD0mP1CR9U7KvMvZCpPrBE_d0oMXOuttN_7B_iuGkzbR31CY2auI-D7RGYJE9wB6gZZeieHfpQtZMoUyl_bmC0ElWK3nNSb1CIXL57YP6DCKsMwuy5Ux5_0fRKKpwd5KH5xO54/s640/IMG_0194.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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He steals my tea.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_jscze7c9YMw0rcvk3YmIHH4fGU-qR6CfpRFaAk4qAuGamZ56rdly5aiWMdWI8DZjIcutJX9z2repsqRXpcUWPXn2n-22DGpkICb0Q6IQ33-uefA7QUreu27hvgE35C39X8wSioEY0o/s1600/IMG_0221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_jscze7c9YMw0rcvk3YmIHH4fGU-qR6CfpRFaAk4qAuGamZ56rdly5aiWMdWI8DZjIcutJX9z2repsqRXpcUWPXn2n-22DGpkICb0Q6IQ33-uefA7QUreu27hvgE35C39X8wSioEY0o/s640/IMG_0221.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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and loves his friends fiercely. (And they love him)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjadXn_0hsJoqWdKkqvehets_k_HL7wiXAh7LFLUZU4EMnF1zkXeG8DscuNoWyo4spSFeCQjfMCMPcs-sWfNuEyXFUIROl_eEgcqvGFdhNQCpTLKiMjlXQAeF-zx6dnVtT4-iuZ-03gYXM/s1600/IMG_0224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjadXn_0hsJoqWdKkqvehets_k_HL7wiXAh7LFLUZU4EMnF1zkXeG8DscuNoWyo4spSFeCQjfMCMPcs-sWfNuEyXFUIROl_eEgcqvGFdhNQCpTLKiMjlXQAeF-zx6dnVtT4-iuZ-03gYXM/s640/IMG_0224.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Ywi1UjzfgkOIaclA4toRUMod79YdTOiC3JY6flKBASHhBxGu99P2U4kZbAKhrTQ_wvoDU82nSMzanK-rcMcpA61nrbqhrBr0bQTftq29xULyrhuG9bv9bIpdQzpg8S2wyPjI83pFPBM/s1600/IMG_0702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Ywi1UjzfgkOIaclA4toRUMod79YdTOiC3JY6flKBASHhBxGu99P2U4kZbAKhrTQ_wvoDU82nSMzanK-rcMcpA61nrbqhrBr0bQTftq29xULyrhuG9bv9bIpdQzpg8S2wyPjI83pFPBM/s640/IMG_0702.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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He is my helper, and still definitely a mama's boy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngJ9TULagk7grt5P02iW7ByHrhtN-80CLULLrQEyzVhm_Jyibgr3u7T2RfGGQJng8RL2GgjVGt1YB2Erv6xr8qTNZCThyphenhyphen-bNOZLT9Pkn3Q3cpHp2JApgKycE0INm7neXVFda556F_GJ8/s1600/IMG_0230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngJ9TULagk7grt5P02iW7ByHrhtN-80CLULLrQEyzVhm_Jyibgr3u7T2RfGGQJng8RL2GgjVGt1YB2Erv6xr8qTNZCThyphenhyphen-bNOZLT9Pkn3Q3cpHp2JApgKycE0INm7neXVFda556F_GJ8/s640/IMG_0230.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And he eats, eats, eats.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgoeR0VTKCRarIlXH1jsxgDcNiE_0HzxREhwfIGc2bH1dK3VsAB6NeBnsc1jNOUKf2RNipQ8GYwiGDKaXzCakDER4Zb2Z7ci6Q4K4UtznOw2SuzudfINnoGuIc0HdJqjP-DhLKbQ4E9m8/s1600/IMG_0237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgoeR0VTKCRarIlXH1jsxgDcNiE_0HzxREhwfIGc2bH1dK3VsAB6NeBnsc1jNOUKf2RNipQ8GYwiGDKaXzCakDER4Zb2Z7ci6Q4K4UtznOw2SuzudfINnoGuIc0HdJqjP-DhLKbQ4E9m8/s640/IMG_0237.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCoI9XXbe3yqMv8pKKTE2zo4mUV-BT5sKDm74y2sF_CpMu3K3NWSnXS6_lPRJDk7oVl51DqZdFEGe0Lwlw55HU0ilzVg9mglvTm0j7b2gymh6WJ_1ar-0lVNX1B0wRoO6pDUbqoGFG8Q/s1600/IMG_0241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCoI9XXbe3yqMv8pKKTE2zo4mUV-BT5sKDm74y2sF_CpMu3K3NWSnXS6_lPRJDk7oVl51DqZdFEGe0Lwlw55HU0ilzVg9mglvTm0j7b2gymh6WJ_1ar-0lVNX1B0wRoO6pDUbqoGFG8Q/s640/IMG_0241.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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A morning person through and through, this one. I found him this morning just lying in his crib, fist fully enveloped by a huge gum-less grin.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsCL837QyN8J4Ca9JV7ZPKk7rTcDhh1dos7yLnxxybxrk50XUi1S3j2qTqy6lKfy5aOe3zSaVmDso_Jm4mELaszdJct8OIPq2KvyFcRFT1P8a9nIFgBNJgkFkpF-tWsYgOQpNhVTWfCo/s1600/IMG_0249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsCL837QyN8J4Ca9JV7ZPKk7rTcDhh1dos7yLnxxybxrk50XUi1S3j2qTqy6lKfy5aOe3zSaVmDso_Jm4mELaszdJct8OIPq2KvyFcRFT1P8a9nIFgBNJgkFkpF-tWsYgOQpNhVTWfCo/s640/IMG_0249.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And he's kind of an afternoon and evening person too. Smiley Simon. He steals our hearts with every grin.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJyhgXx7eY2o_Dog659Y0c_hh9tSrVKtUNHgx4LLR4PqKn_LNXkcr35odvg72SphjG7JuvLBhWZ_rrVgk0izXkGEumSLS-BAfWwNtsBay9Rnzbg9C1n1MxnR9NaR6EX31r9l7fPlRvxQ/s1600/IMG_0672.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJyhgXx7eY2o_Dog659Y0c_hh9tSrVKtUNHgx4LLR4PqKn_LNXkcr35odvg72SphjG7JuvLBhWZ_rrVgk0izXkGEumSLS-BAfWwNtsBay9Rnzbg9C1n1MxnR9NaR6EX31r9l7fPlRvxQ/s640/IMG_0672.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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He looks just like his Uncle Nate, which is a pretty good look to have. ;)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48J1RMbX0VUmsjHja1TFHYiFB-kEvyWT7TCdWOmC6QbXRHPVkpuD1FUsOxfM6rDf_1ub_rYXZE9CMVEdWdEiDkVB2AW3N1ZQavCJs4B95_fEEZhQdJbVBe42rRegEmZYAr6H-ROkbVlI/s1600/IMG_0681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48J1RMbX0VUmsjHja1TFHYiFB-kEvyWT7TCdWOmC6QbXRHPVkpuD1FUsOxfM6rDf_1ub_rYXZE9CMVEdWdEiDkVB2AW3N1ZQavCJs4B95_fEEZhQdJbVBe42rRegEmZYAr6H-ROkbVlI/s400/IMG_0681.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLokQgCYD8SbjLRyOm2NV1PNQN0Zx-ZmP73z974XpUdK4dTr_g-R64B4Viw7vzcRc9ETfNvOOJril0p2EbqNmU0bPKqr58eiQvLeRIwVbgn0hLd_CZ0fWAtlRsZ4ZSHIBx68Xun0Z2yIE/s1600/IMG_0686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLokQgCYD8SbjLRyOm2NV1PNQN0Zx-ZmP73z974XpUdK4dTr_g-R64B4Viw7vzcRc9ETfNvOOJril0p2EbqNmU0bPKqr58eiQvLeRIwVbgn0hLd_CZ0fWAtlRsZ4ZSHIBx68Xun0Z2yIE/s400/IMG_0686.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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His eyes dance. And change color daily.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AP_C46OLmWyvG09y7Z0upErylKa-TcjOrGvt1fmSOuhrZ-omQ_cpmcMJyPFNiK9QcppriWgutlRcGOXv4naYpnHsUkgMPI9xk4PB5SBbFGxN1m_HrZNPbfHCMeXY8UhRrMlowx24KII/s1600/IMG_0485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AP_C46OLmWyvG09y7Z0upErylKa-TcjOrGvt1fmSOuhrZ-omQ_cpmcMJyPFNiK9QcppriWgutlRcGOXv4naYpnHsUkgMPI9xk4PB5SBbFGxN1m_HrZNPbfHCMeXY8UhRrMlowx24KII/s640/IMG_0485.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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He has the best dimples. ever.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hBqq0DHFkI0OhDKhYWS11gwk7tYk2wFUZBTFCEV1xMglQTgD9FB6i9iWFY1_eZfPg0KZtJb9PtNvWhoUR4ZQlbiT_ENA_LXt2qaqevGZ9UVxpso2YjfEz4OsVPPC0aMFNk_73owC3Q8/s1600/IMG_0664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hBqq0DHFkI0OhDKhYWS11gwk7tYk2wFUZBTFCEV1xMglQTgD9FB6i9iWFY1_eZfPg0KZtJb9PtNvWhoUR4ZQlbiT_ENA_LXt2qaqevGZ9UVxpso2YjfEz4OsVPPC0aMFNk_73owC3Q8/s640/IMG_0664.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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These boys bring joy to life. Oh, it's hard. So hard. Motherhood stretches me in ways I never knew I could. It is the hardest job I'll ever love. Yet, whenever I find myself complaining, or wishing for ten more minutes of peace, or a full night's rest, I have to stop myself and remember: I prayed for this. These two. And for all the quiet in the world I wouldn't give them up.</div>
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-66244273784335622372013-10-30T22:10:00.002-04:002013-10-30T22:10:37.603-04:00Simon Patrick | Three Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTJZl692nduRha54gDGnvIp8am_HnP4aRa5eUpPliLHqcqO7cyXVJoy8H_uPWez7HNZsXuZIlQPSOYzRKwb3dUX1OKxp4_fAQYbwI7w1ywWsW0D_pcY4GwjB8G_2VpN_MaOoMNxoGE2g/s1600/IMG_0072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTJZl692nduRha54gDGnvIp8am_HnP4aRa5eUpPliLHqcqO7cyXVJoy8H_uPWez7HNZsXuZIlQPSOYzRKwb3dUX1OKxp4_fAQYbwI7w1ywWsW0D_pcY4GwjB8G_2VpN_MaOoMNxoGE2g/s640/IMG_0072.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
three months.</div>
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smiles. coos. two huge dimples. eyes are changing - maybe to brown. looks surprised a lot (the picture is perfect). moving into 3-6 months clothing. great at tummy time. a morning person. milk addict. so patient with his big brother's smothering love. face lights up when he sees mama. </div>
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Simon Patrick, we love you more and more. Even more than <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2013/09/simon-patrick-two-months.html" target="_blank">last month</a></span>.</div>
Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-15742647759647114822013-09-27T15:06:00.001-04:002013-09-27T15:06:22.750-04:00Simon Patrick | Two Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZ8MRYv1hn1Lc7_K7kQ_241PygvesnpARDyAataJyYvILxxCa4NRBkd5ZDoKvDaXAXra2i8rgmZBwBMavx72x2Kl3Jflm3B-cH3xhPhgLSxDnA_DE8l_KPFIGjIleYKc4vsvZOuBryVc/s1600/IMG_0318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZ8MRYv1hn1Lc7_K7kQ_241PygvesnpARDyAataJyYvILxxCa4NRBkd5ZDoKvDaXAXra2i8rgmZBwBMavx72x2Kl3Jflm3B-cH3xhPhgLSxDnA_DE8l_KPFIGjIleYKc4vsvZOuBryVc/s640/IMG_0318.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">two months.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">has the squishiest cheeks. eats like a piggy. smiles with his whole face. is starting to coo. adored by his big brother. sleeps 6 hours straight at night. still called "Squeaker." is startled easily. loves the Moby Wrap, taking walks, and even his mama's singing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Simon Patrick, you are loved more than you know. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And even more than <a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2013_08_01_archive.html" target="_blank">last month</a>.</span></div>
Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-68722110714482098112013-09-06T23:46:00.001-04:002013-09-07T07:10:35.254-04:00Postpartum hormones, perfection and grace<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">Postpartum hormones are interesting things. Despite our beautiful heart-shaped placenta in convenient encapsulated form, I've had many moments over the last couple of weeks. Moments where I am reminded I am not super-woman. Moments where my humanity smacks me smartly on the cheek, and leaves me a crying, shaking mess. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">All my life I've resisted this weakness. Somewhere along the line I heard and believed the lie that your life has to be perfect for anyone to love you. Or, look as close to perfect as you can muster. This lie has hit me hard in the last two weeks. I've realized how deeply rooted it is in my being; how tenderly I hold onto it, as if it gives my life identity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">Because in the last two weeks, more than any other time in my life, there have been moments where I just did not think I could make it five more minutes without everything around me collapsing in a pile of rubble - myself and my children included. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">And I thought, <i>Is this what it's going to be now? Am I going to be grasping for air the rest of my life, just trying to keep my head above water?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">Baby blues? Probably. But the Holy Spirit has been doing a number on my heart through this emotional roller coaster.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonyGTV1irjVDFA2COsKqmkmjaJc-VgYjGfw3lVb03p_VpGY44f_G09PGAVqyf9_CYk0c5k51oRD_RBIFois7QEtgf_aThDfLffFisKkJ8RSZdWJVlpCYeBwIhbErrCOYbye5RGuZWOn8/s1600/IMG_0100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonyGTV1irjVDFA2COsKqmkmjaJc-VgYjGfw3lVb03p_VpGY44f_G09PGAVqyf9_CYk0c5k51oRD_RBIFois7QEtgf_aThDfLffFisKkJ8RSZdWJVlpCYeBwIhbErrCOYbye5RGuZWOn8/s640/IMG_0100.jpg" width="640" /></a>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Feeding on the husks around me,</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Till my strength was almost gone,</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Longed my soul for something better,</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Only still to hunger on.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #545559; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">Five weeks in I decided I was finally up for Sunday evening potluck and worship with our sweet, growing church. I'd made it the morning a week earlier, and nearly fell asleep to my husband's sermon, but that week had been even harder, and I knew more than rest I needed to worship with others.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">As I prepared to go to church Sunday evening I felt Satan pulling me back; trying to hinder me from worship. I was juggling an antsy toddler, who needed cleaned and dressed; and an over-hungry newborn choking on and crying over the over-abundance of milk my body is still convinced he needs. I nearly burnt our contribution to the potluck, and didn't have time to finish all I had planned to bring. Daniel arrived home fifteen minutes late to drive us to church, and I told him to just leave me. I wanted to burrow under the covers and cry myself to sleep. I most certainly wasn't ready to walk out the door, and most definitely wasn't ready to walk into church. At least my heart didn't feel ready.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">My heart didn't feel ready for worship, or praise.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXA0QhmlP5C4J897OCF7cTeKH8qn42mBc5MjtGwblO80tZbCgVTTozI5csKAxtLuQMjPyIJWCesk65Azz81IaViDYCQmaS3wKeo8sgXBdxz0Urh0hn9cYZD9eHeDYBpZKa4qIAK1k2M_I/s1600/IMG_0087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXA0QhmlP5C4J897OCF7cTeKH8qn42mBc5MjtGwblO80tZbCgVTTozI5csKAxtLuQMjPyIJWCesk65Azz81IaViDYCQmaS3wKeo8sgXBdxz0Urh0hn9cYZD9eHeDYBpZKa4qIAK1k2M_I/s640/IMG_0087.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><i style="line-height: 18px;">Poor I was, and sought for riches,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Something that would satisfy,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>But the dust I gathered round me</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Only mocked my soul’s sad cry.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I went anyway. Not cheerfully, not easily, but because I knew I needed to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">There is something deeply beautiful amongst a circle of true friends: the awareness that you are not alone. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">As I sat in my chair and looked around at the familiar and beloved faces of our church family the life stories of many of them came to mind, and I realized that as burdened and empty as I felt in that moment there were others dealing with heavier, even darker burdens. My heart quickly softened.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">
</span>
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">And as we sang, and worshipped together, and then gathered for communion, Grace drowned me like a flood of water. That perfection I had been striving for all week - all my life long? was drenched in a depth of love I could not even wrap my mind around.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><br /></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7O5hM1_lP7oljswaIfv0wMqYncZabQyLXStxKGlJbnwX5NTIYtmZicnhZP0HyaqQ3xNaLi68aZ7c_qJb4ogo1d46iXJuPWAPV1QDXacDNy5lWlnDL5sOweq3VN154kjsdQXm6p2BNjHI/s1600/IMG_0102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7O5hM1_lP7oljswaIfv0wMqYncZabQyLXStxKGlJbnwX5NTIYtmZicnhZP0HyaqQ3xNaLi68aZ7c_qJb4ogo1d46iXJuPWAPV1QDXacDNy5lWlnDL5sOweq3VN154kjsdQXm6p2BNjHI/s640/IMG_0102.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i style="line-height: 18px;">Well of water, ever springing,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Bread of life so rich and free,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Untold wealth that never faileth,</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>My Redeemer is to me.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">No matter how hard I try life will never be perfect. Having two babies has rocked my world in great ways. I have felt my heart love deeper than I knew possible. Yet, it has rocked my world in tough ways, too. I do not have it all together. I don't even have a daily routine yet. I probably won't for a good month or two more. I'm sleep deprived. I'm behind on everything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And slowly, the grace of the gospel is showing me that that is ok. Life here isn't perfect, and I don't have to pretend it is. The love Jesus offers is deeper, richer, fuller than any wimpy satisfaction I gain from trying my hardest; and when my heart feels dry and heavy, his love satisfies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After all, of all the burdens any have had to bear is not the weight of the darkness and death in this world the heaviest? If any heart should feel dry, should it not be His. Nailed to a cross, mocked and beaten, forsaken by all but a few, betrayed by one of his best friends, and sold for thirty pieces of silver. And when He cried out to God in heaven the sky only grew darker, and the silence more deafening. Because life isn't perfect, and He knew it. So He died to make all right again, and He calls to us, sometimes softly and quietly, sometimes like thunder: <i>Beloved, I know the pain you're feeling. I know the burden you carry. Give it up: I paid the price for your freedom. Just trust me. I will make all things new.</i></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3RumS7W6TebPfjEy7UQhKjJQCfEV_24kRgZ3-wZMFdXWZipraGlXg89l-vPbRwkLLSayzC1LscUJbI85e6DVeMbk6H_uoZZC_9D8R9zPB0eiB1dQYkxkKmhcg9m9gwsFLaxqscpnvTY/s1600/IMG_0096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3RumS7W6TebPfjEy7UQhKjJQCfEV_24kRgZ3-wZMFdXWZipraGlXg89l-vPbRwkLLSayzC1LscUJbI85e6DVeMbk6H_uoZZC_9D8R9zPB0eiB1dQYkxkKmhcg9m9gwsFLaxqscpnvTY/s640/IMG_0096.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Hallelujah! I have found Him</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Whom my soul so long has craved!</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Jesus satisfies my longings,</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><i>Through His blood I now am saved.</i></span></div>
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-85773062542964931282013-08-27T14:43:00.003-04:002013-08-27T14:43:43.893-04:00Simon Patrick | One Whole Month<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVSs5nOvQaOJLT9PrIF0uYDk6q7qF5tKVFK5G4du7bhoprZXPbhkI2PCvNT6bFj8VLCcgifJWaY-D4ol09jyoklkCvPDh8RJfxooPBuo0IL4SRBBmnNR2mI3u76cQ9c5SnFp7tL_Y1n0/s1600/IMG_0341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVSs5nOvQaOJLT9PrIF0uYDk6q7qF5tKVFK5G4du7bhoprZXPbhkI2PCvNT6bFj8VLCcgifJWaY-D4ol09jyoklkCvPDh8RJfxooPBuo0IL4SRBBmnNR2mI3u76cQ9c5SnFp7tL_Y1n0/s640/IMG_0341.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQapRfIJOZVikQNZ7f21iXFzskzXlFPFdEJ2U7ppOw2xr0dVrCS-XnD_Uz-a3gWdArfnsuVvwuTTbG-U0eRERwXvIW35RI98oV9EksF4HXuCCCV6tGkWT5-IAteNYTVJvL0YyRGUyhbc/s1600/IMG_0342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQapRfIJOZVikQNZ7f21iXFzskzXlFPFdEJ2U7ppOw2xr0dVrCS-XnD_Uz-a3gWdArfnsuVvwuTTbG-U0eRERwXvIW35RI98oV9EksF4HXuCCCV6tGkWT5-IAteNYTVJvL0YyRGUyhbc/s640/IMG_0342.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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one month.</div>
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mesmerized by light. nicknamed "Squeaker." weighs a whopping nine-and-a-half pounds. sleeps on his belly. likes a paci. stays awake longer now. has a look all his own. tolerates all his big brother's lovin's.</div>
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Simon Patrick, you are loved. Loved even more every day.</div>
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(Missed week three because of 3 straight days of rain.)</div>
<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-82530313688362630412013-08-15T14:54:00.001-04:002013-08-15T14:54:11.856-04:00Brothers. And a new normal.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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They're gonna be best friends, these two.</div>
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At least I hope, and pray, with all my full-to-the-bring-overwhelmed-with-joy heart that they will be. </div>
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A week or so before Simon was born I showed Ralphie a little trick. If he pinched my nose, I would say, "Honk!" (Like a goose), and it would be really funny and we could laugh and pinch noses over and over again. Even Daddy joined the fun.</div>
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Daniel and I didn't realize that this, in Ralphie's mind, gave him permission to pinch whatever nose happened to be within reaching distance. </div>
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Simon, however, does not say "Honk!" when his nose gets pinched.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhae7ZIX6TBvdYdhiBbjAKtN5NbDrGsqIKViAdXQT5areh4m-76o8AsuhRyTZvgMHjY67iAfcumWMFcxkPOR56S7Ao8NyML6a4iPdqMjmKPpT01pit_tCqG4G8VetmTVKbM5neSNGU1DcQ/s1600/IMG_0464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhae7ZIX6TBvdYdhiBbjAKtN5NbDrGsqIKViAdXQT5areh4m-76o8AsuhRyTZvgMHjY67iAfcumWMFcxkPOR56S7Ao8NyML6a4iPdqMjmKPpT01pit_tCqG4G8VetmTVKbM5neSNGU1DcQ/s640/IMG_0464.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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By Day 19 he's pretty much given up trying to "honk" his little brother's nose. He's becoming an expert head rubber though, and on occasion, big, mouth-wide-open kisses are his specialty.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXcp59PPCl7PiUO8ixnXBmbIyRgnq27NXK30bhIaea2cwYUcE3Y0O-zNS6obT56PWpGKuayfH99-W-gReYFVIf9NY40LKT04WNPEq8irHN0IqhEtdjXQp8l4ygvLFD-S1eRT0oV9T-U8/s1600/IMG_0483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXcp59PPCl7PiUO8ixnXBmbIyRgnq27NXK30bhIaea2cwYUcE3Y0O-zNS6obT56PWpGKuayfH99-W-gReYFVIf9NY40LKT04WNPEq8irHN0IqhEtdjXQp8l4ygvLFD-S1eRT0oV9T-U8/s640/IMG_0483.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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There are 17 months and 17 days between them. Funny, when we first started talking about Baby #2 we both said, "<i>At least </i>18 months between them<i>." </i></div>
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17 months and 17 days seems just about perfect now that I think about it.</div>
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Already, a new normal has set in, and Ralphie is fairly well adjusted to his baby brother. Adjusted to having to wait longer for lunch? Not exactly. Adjusted to being told "Be patient," at least three dozen times a day? We're working on it... But, he is sweet and gentle with his baby Simon, and I'm thankful for a over-all easy adjustment for him - and all of us.</div>
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And these two boys. They are delightful. They are different, already that is evident. Monday was our first day at home, just the three of us. And in a busy moment where I had a toddler at my heels begging for a "crack-uh" and a hungry newborn in my arms, chomping at the air and his fists, I thought, <i>This is it. This is my life! These are my babies, and we're going to do life together every day just like this. </i>So, we sat on the couch together. My toddler got a clementine, and my baby got his milk, and we talked and just sat there together. The house looked like a tornado had blown through it. There were dirty dishes pouring out of the sink. Laundry strung all over the back porch to dry. And yet, it's one of those moments I want to remember forever.</div>
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I'm really drinking in these first days and weeks, and choosing (most of the time) not to worry about the little things<i>. </i>Those dishes can wait, the mess of toys will get cleaned up, the laundry will get folded - eventually. My husband is my best helper in this regard. Heaven knows I would already have been all over the world by now if he wasn't here to slow my down. I've kind of forgotten about make-up and shaving my legs. I'll confess it's hard to fall asleep at nap time, even though my body practically begs for it, because I am so excited to have a quiet hour to just do what I want - like read, or blog, or edit pictures. Or refresh my Facebook/Instagram/Bloglovin' feed ten times. </div>
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So, it's kind of crazy and wonderful and surreal all at once this new normal of ours. One thing is for sure: clean house or dirty, make-up or not, I am loving these two little boys God's given us.</div>
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<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-53977476356102186932013-08-10T08:00:00.000-04:002013-08-10T08:00:01.386-04:00Simon Patrick | 2 Weeks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5tPThvSYuYmqp3ahvIZrXquPR6DzQnO1ZPKukrSFZlythyDEkJqzfLt6pxtVzOo4DgUXIrlm0MGMbZIE98eVoimqDe87rwiFxX9M-E6kgPGtxlbmi09idmTnMFymilV31XgUZDgK58Y/s1600/IMG_0252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5tPThvSYuYmqp3ahvIZrXquPR6DzQnO1ZPKukrSFZlythyDEkJqzfLt6pxtVzOo4DgUXIrlm0MGMbZIE98eVoimqDe87rwiFxX9M-E6kgPGtxlbmi09idmTnMFymilV31XgUZDgK58Y/s640/IMG_0252.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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two weeks.</div>
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makes little mouse sounds. has the cutest little eyes. loves his milk. spends more and more time awake. likes a paci already. keeps his hands by his head when he sleeps.</div>
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Simon Patrick, you are loved. Even more than<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2013/08/one-week.html" target="_blank">last week</a>.</span></div>
Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-56753021161102045472013-08-07T21:10:00.000-04:002013-08-07T21:16:38.304-04:00Simon's Birth Story | An on-purpose home birth<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thirty-five weeks and five days pregnant, I'm sitting back in the big, comfy couch at my midwife's home office. I've officially been pregnant as long as my entire pregnancy with our firstborn lasted. I'm measuring on track; Baby sounds great, and feels to be at least six pounds. </div>
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"I think you'll make it. At least, I'm hoping you do." She says. "Do you think you will?" The question we've been wondering since Ralphie was born: Did he come a month early because I spent 3 days sick in bed, or do I just deliver early? (Read his birth story <a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2012/02/ralphies-birth-story.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">here</span></a>.)</div>
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I nod in agreement. I have no expectation of going early. <i>I'll make it. Or later. </i>I was pretty sure I deserved a 43 weeker the second time around. A 43 week 10 pounder.</div>
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(Realistically, an eight-pound baby a couple days before or after my due date was more what we all were thinking.)</div>
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With everything so fine and dandy, my husband plans to attend a men's retreat with our church Friday evening. Just a day and a night, four hours from home. For some reason I sob uncontrollably when he leaves, and spend the day an emotional basket case.</div>
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<i>4:30am July 27th </i>I hear a whimper from the nursery and know Ralphie has lost his pacifier. As I snuggle him for just a moment I notice my belly is rock-hard and tight. I grimace and think<i> that's not quite Braxton Hicks. </i>A bathroom trip before I crawl back into bed confirms yet another sign of labor: a lost mucus plug.<br />
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I toss and turn, a nervous wreck. I try to text and call Daniel, but in my mind I see him clearly: comfortably curled up, snoring, in a cabin, in the mountains, with his friends. Completely oblivious.<br />
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At 6:45am I get up. I shower, then text my midwife a head's up. She suggests the tub for 30 minutes. It feels great, but four strong contractions make me contemplate tracking their progress. Closer than they had been. Stronger, too.<br />
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My boy and I eat breakfast - at least I try. I'm nauseous, and almost everything is making me gag.<br />
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We cross the street and go to the park. At least a distracted toddler will help keep <i>me</i> distracted from whatever this was. I google "false labor signs" before we leave the house, just for some reassurance. I get none.<br />
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9:00am comes, contractions are 5-7 minutes apart and at least 30 seconds long. I still cannot reach my snoozing husband, so I text our pastor and tell him to wake up Daniel. He texts back, "What, you in labor? ;)"<br />
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I laugh out loud.<br />
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The next hour and a half fly by as I pace the perimeter of the playground, talk to sweet, supportive friends, and anxiously wonder how long it will be before Daniel can get home.<br />
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10:30am my midwife arrives. I meet her outside the park, her eyes are all sympathy. Back at my house she checks the baby's heart rate. He is active and sounds great. More with her eyes than with her words she tells me this is definitely real labor, and I swallow hard and try to get excited about meeting our second baby boy.<br />
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She leaves our house to get some last minute supplies. She texts Daniel, "She will wait for you, but not long. <i>Hurry</i>." He is still about two hours from home, and the rain is pouring like a wet monsoon. Hazard lights on he books 80mph, and prays harder than anything that the birth will go smoothly, whether he makes it or not.<br />
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Left alone with Ralphie, I quickly realize I'm about at the end of my capabilities in carrying for an active toddler who has no idea of the pain his mama is experiencing. Another half hour goes by and I decide to send him off with a friend. One last bump picture, first: with my baby on my baby bump. There is a giant lump in my throat as I kiss him goodbye and tell him he is going to be a big brother today. He had no way of understanding, but somehow I think he knew.<br />
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Once alone I try to regain my focus, and calmly work my way through each contraction. But my body is tense, and each attempt to accept the pain and pressure is met with a resistance I don't control. <i>Please bring Daniel home soon </i>I pray over and over and over.<br />
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My midwife and her assistant arrive. Their presence brings peace. I feel safe. She suggests all-fours, maybe in the shower?<br />
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Cool water pounds on my back, and I rock back and forth. In my mind I'm repeating <i>breathe your baby down, breathe him down. </i>I'm imagining this beautiful process unfolding.<br />
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But my hips are locked, and my back is stiff. I don't want to move. I can't. <i>12:30pm</i>. I've been fighting like this for a half hour.<br />
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Then.<br />
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Then! I hear his voice. He is home!<br />
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I push the shower curtain aside and throw my arms around his waist. My dripping hair soaks him. The flood of tears fall freely, and a wave of relief passes over me. I cry his name over and over. <i>You made it! </i><br />
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And he just holds me.<br />
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Time slows for just a moment. It's just the two of us in the whole wide world, until another contraction comes and I brace myself.<br />
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Laboring after that was not easy, but it was natural. I knew how to do this, and I felt a new surge of power with my husband now beside me. I rocked and groaned and rolled through each contraction. Unlike Ralphie's birth, this time I felt purpose behind the pain. I knew what that load of pressure was, and I half smiled as I sensed my body quickly progressing.<br />
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My midwife clocked the second stage of labor as a whole 13 minutes.<br />
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The shower began to feel confining, and my legs and arms where achy from holding the weight of my body, so I moved to the bed on my side. Daniel ran his fingers down my back, and rubbed my shoulders. My midwife pressed deep and hard into the small of my back through each contraction. These were different. They were intense. The pressure - Oh, the pressure.<br />
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No one told me to push. No one checked me to see if I was complete. But my body knew.<br />
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Two spontaneous pushes through a contraction. Back to the bathroom to squat and let gravity help my baby down. A burst of fluid, followed by another. More pushing. He crowns. I scream. I'm yelling things I don't remember. I hear soft, calm voices from my midwife and her assistant encouraging me on. "Yes, that's your baby!" "Push through the burn, that's great." "You're doing it!"<br />
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I dig my head into Daniel's side, and pull down on his arm for support. He is rubbing my arm and kissing my head, and when I take a split second to catch his eyes they are both bright with excitement.<br />
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And while I knew all along my heart would only expand to make room to love each of my babies, I had my doubts and fears. How could anything compare to my love for my firstborn?</div>
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Then, a load of pressure, and a burn of fire. I know his head is about to emerge. My eyes close tight, and I grip my husband's arm with all I have in me.</div>
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I scream, but with excitement: His head is out! I stand, and the body quickly follows. Then, he's up to my stomach, now oddly soft and empty. Short, short cord, so I hunch to kiss him. Oh, his sweet, sweet face! So much happiness, so much joy. I'm crying, but the tears won't fall.</div>
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Daniel can't stop smiling.</div>
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Words fail. Time stops.</div>
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And my heart expands a bazillion times over. It's hard, fast, deep love-at-first-sight, and we can't take our eyes off of him.</div>
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Everything slows down after that. The bathtub is filled, and my baby and I soak in the warm water. He nurses, and as his daddy talks to him he opens his little eyes. <i>What to name him? What to name him? </i>We go through our list. Once. Twice. Then one more time. Eventually, I'm persuaded, and Daddy calls his son <i><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2013/08/simon-patrick.html" target="_blank">Simon Patrick.</a></span></i></div>
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We are smitten.</div>
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His chord stops pulsing, the placenta comes, we clean up and climb into our own bed. He is gently weighed and examined: a healthy, happy boy.</div>
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Then, Ralphie is brought home, and my heart swells full to the brim. He squeals with delight as I place his baby brother in front of him. "<i>Gentle,</i>" we command, and he ever so softly strokes his little head. Then, curious of course, he tries to pull off the tuff of hair that is standing straight up. We laugh. Ralphie smiles. This little brother thing is pretty cool.</div>
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With Ralphie's birth I learned going unmedicated was worth it. With Simon's birth I learned going unmedicated at home is beyond worth it. It will take a medical emergency to get me to deliver in a hospital again. <i>And I had a great hospital experience. </i>I'm also considering, in the event that we move out of Rock Hill, kidnapping my midwife so she can attend all our future births. <i>Kidding! </i>Well... kind of.</div>
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We are full of thankfulness to every person who was part of Simon's birthday, and to all of the friends and family who have poured love upon him and us in the days following. </div>
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Our hearts are full to think that this tiny, helpless being we cradle in our arms has been given to <i>us </i>to love, train, and enjoy. Yes, a gift. A blessing. </div>
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A miracle.<br />
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"<i>Every good and perfect gift is from above." James 1:17</i></div>
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<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-22200511625709242622013-08-03T19:05:00.002-04:002013-08-03T19:05:46.838-04:00One Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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one week.</div>
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smiles when he sleeps. loves his daddy's voice. doesn't like to be cold. regained his birth weight. sleeps through anything. nurses like there's no tomorrow.</div>
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Simon Patrick, you are loved even more than the day you were born.</div>
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<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-55771801092176271082013-08-02T20:37:00.001-04:002013-08-02T20:37:20.276-04:00Simon Patrick<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_zRR4ZJsnBpLt0meMkmAUXs8PFroQgvBFCmQK93IsvF8LMQ9TwIfXjcvBe_6s2TDmqenb7DJIARxSzkidcpNz-t13puz0HoKas1mFWq_Fvamga99VS8VbfDFk01rsHhyp090Y3aFT7I/s1600/IMG_0424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_zRR4ZJsnBpLt0meMkmAUXs8PFroQgvBFCmQK93IsvF8LMQ9TwIfXjcvBe_6s2TDmqenb7DJIARxSzkidcpNz-t13puz0HoKas1mFWq_Fvamga99VS8VbfDFk01rsHhyp090Y3aFT7I/s640/IMG_0424.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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July 27th our lives got a little sweeter, our hearts loved a little deeper, and this little baby joined our family.</div>
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Simon Patrick Wells</div>
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July 27th 2013 </div>
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1:18pm</div>
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6 pounds 10 ounces 19 1/2 inches long</div>
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ten fingers, ten toes, two dimples and one bundle of perfect delight</div>
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<i>Simon - (</i>Hebrew: <i>To be heard) "Simon </i>whom he called Peter." One of the twelve apostles. A man who, though his faith was weak and immature, and his character impulsive and fearful, was chosen by Jesus and used by the Father, empowered by the Spirit, to heal sick, raise dead, and cast out demons. He preached one sermon and thousands came to Christ. Though often rebuked, and often mistaken, he is the man who cried to Jesus "<i>Wash not my feet only, but also my hands and my head!" </i>and was the first of the twelve to confess Jesus as Christ, the Son of God.</div>
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<i>Patrick - (</i>English: <i>Noble) St. Patrick (</i>who actually isn't even a saint!)<i> </i>A young man God saved from sin, and then from slavery. He gave his life to sharing Jesus with the very people who enslaved him - shockingly barbaric Irish clans. He tossed aside the trends of the day that said a people had to be civilized before they could be evangelized, and traveled across Ireland befriending and living among these barbaric clans. He shared the gospel of Jesus with them, planted a church amongst them, trained their men to be church leaders, and moved on to the next clan. By the time he died nearly 40 of the 150 Irish clans were predominately Christian. He was a missionary novel of his time; the church planter of church planters. He was best heard not through fiery sermons or thoughtful commentaries, but through faithful, humble living.</div>
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Our first six days with our sweet Simon Patrick have been full. They have also flown by. He is covered by dozens and dozens of kisses from his mama every day. His little head gets "pet" by his big brother morning, noon, and night. Nothing makes his eyes open wider, and his little head turn faster than to hear his daddy's voice say <i>Hi, Simon! </i></div>
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We are soaking up every ounce of him. And wondering how long we can refrain from blinking to keep life this sweet just a little longer.</div>
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More pictures, a birth story, and other little updates are in the works. Check back soon!</div>
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<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-2301353315150997412013-07-18T21:05:00.002-04:002013-07-18T21:24:40.543-04:0035 Weeks!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTV9SX1glru6Quv2xBIv2uf5lQVWwLNjo4N-HWxQhQuk7Mglr9BdoLy51C3C3ANLOrAKFZU5e4M2pTX4NUFdWo2cfUle-Mdo4BpUbKEv422QWBNqJEdm2zWXC3WmmXSSCjSa2W3WCNA8/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTV9SX1glru6Quv2xBIv2uf5lQVWwLNjo4N-HWxQhQuk7Mglr9BdoLy51C3C3ANLOrAKFZU5e4M2pTX4NUFdWo2cfUle-Mdo4BpUbKEv422QWBNqJEdm2zWXC3WmmXSSCjSa2W3WCNA8/s640/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We've made it to 35 weeks today. If Little Brother decides to come on time there are only about 35 days to go! You can see my<a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2012/02/35-weeks.html" target="_blank"> bump picture with Ralphie </a>at 35 weeks - also my last bump picture with him, since he was born just 5 days later. Carrying lower, carrying bigger this time around.</div>
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This baby is a blessing, and we are so eager to meet him!</div>
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<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 20px;">How far along?: </b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 20px;">35 weeks</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Total Weight Gain: </b>25+ :/ Officially more than I gained with Ralphie.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 20px;">Maternity clothes?</b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 20px;"> Yes</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Stretch marks?</b> **sigh** I think a few</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Sleep: </b></span></span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">Intermittent. Back to taking naps more often after a couple months without them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Best moment this week: </b>It's been exciting to make it to 35 weeks and remember how things were when we were this far along with Ralphie. Even though we know this baby will not come quite so early, the end is certainly in sight and that is exciting!</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">Movement: </b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">Nearly always. Does he ever sleep?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Cravings: </b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Not really.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Gender: </b>Another lil boy</span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #555555; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Labor Signs: </b><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Just </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">Braxton</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"> hicks occasionally.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Wedding rings on or off: </b>On</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Happy or Moody most days: </b>A little of both. Burst into tears this morning trying to put Ralphie's carseat in the car. Haha. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Belly Button in or out? </b>Out!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I miss:</b> Having a waist... ;)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Starting to show yet: </b>Isn't that obvious?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Anything causing sickness or nausea: </b>Nope.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I am looking forward to:</b> 36 week appointment next week, reaching full term, and meeting this baby! (in that order!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Milestones:</b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"> Final month approaching.</span></span></div>
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-15453877706316809732013-06-24T22:16:00.000-04:002013-06-24T22:16:10.334-04:00An Update<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYit3uLgB5SqOI8todNo4hps30jqKQq_GcPXFt0tS9DhsRK0d1ixUG3S8wXrC5Rcep4iD4z4PHsdYBvhsgrV0-VwM2nBz_h-bkbzGK7MqjAvSpAqsSw06h-_gGZXvIN7hmG5q2616JQVw/s1600/IMG_0316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYit3uLgB5SqOI8todNo4hps30jqKQq_GcPXFt0tS9DhsRK0d1ixUG3S8wXrC5Rcep4iD4z4PHsdYBvhsgrV0-VwM2nBz_h-bkbzGK7MqjAvSpAqsSw06h-_gGZXvIN7hmG5q2616JQVw/s640/IMG_0316.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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All boy. Our Ralphie. His first puddle discovery whilst walking came with the two weeks of rain during Tropical Storm Andrea. He went right through it, eyebrows knit together, eyes all serious. Once through he turned around and retraced his steps. Back through the puddle another three hundred times, this time all grins. Then the playground across the street flooded. Even better.</div>
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He could eat a whole cantaloupe in a day, and never tires of rice and beans. That's about as varied as his diet gets, the stinker. We're working on that. He has a fettish for shoes, and brings them to me to be put on. He likes hanging Mardi Gras beads around his neck, and dances to even the slightest whistle of a tune. His communication skills are erupting; though, we're still not sure which language he's speaking. He loves nothing more than to play outside.</div>
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He points to his bunny night light and the Jesus Storybook Bible each night as we begin his bedtime routine. He snuggles into my lap and points at the pictures while Daddy reads. Major paci sucking going on, and his "b" (blanket) wrapped around him tight. Still a snuggle bug. [Note to self: Don't blink.]</div>
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We talk about his baby brother, and ask his approval on name choices. He doesn't know it yet, but our little world will shortly explode with even more love.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBn8nZDY8OwPtD1h8_ozrrf64u5hvZWLqU-wI2is_Jmaa7dIFQZS8KlPVUB26fMNx_MRv3xt4Tvk2Rf-y-VG8gFV3JkGzxUXWinay3qgDB6Hv0xxUspJvu-4ruUb3wCTITvuAm49Saro/s1600/IMG_0123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBn8nZDY8OwPtD1h8_ozrrf64u5hvZWLqU-wI2is_Jmaa7dIFQZS8KlPVUB26fMNx_MRv3xt4Tvk2Rf-y-VG8gFV3JkGzxUXWinay3qgDB6Hv0xxUspJvu-4ruUb3wCTITvuAm49Saro/s640/IMG_0123.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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We spent last week in Flat Rock, NC where Daniel stayed busy speaking to high schoolers about seeking Christ during college, and the problem of evil. He's dreaming up plans for a church plant in Charleston, but that doesn't stop him from loving everything here in Rock Hill. He's even been reading some fiction [gasps!] lately. A ridiculous moustache may have made an appearance at some point this past month. But we don't speak of such things. He keeps both Ralphie and I on our toes - and laughing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITbwYNdJuU7vNNCH5YT20uOqX_GPSnjUf_1gSfbtBejzr4v1E88zPbztAmfHaUXNwuF_J0O-70QL6-18nrgqABM4HLo_ej5X-1xEDD8Kfzi0XrRSN5wc8Q7DgSJitI1sGHA5IP4pVAFM/s1600/IMG_0052-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITbwYNdJuU7vNNCH5YT20uOqX_GPSnjUf_1gSfbtBejzr4v1E88zPbztAmfHaUXNwuF_J0O-70QL6-18nrgqABM4HLo_ej5X-1xEDD8Kfzi0XrRSN5wc8Q7DgSJitI1sGHA5IP4pVAFM/s640/IMG_0052-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMjdk8XmQPPuHd3WGGDhPGddhLOvHOs4KM5YfHMdeYL2YhPEx0dNSiI-lwdyUp5PnVDmEZTlA0TczXJdpuzRditIuNPrbEcU2XEqp-AjaQLfGt1lo5s5NlfilPu5U6M7WUTXLxKcn_Sg/s1600/IMG_0114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMjdk8XmQPPuHd3WGGDhPGddhLOvHOs4KM5YfHMdeYL2YhPEx0dNSiI-lwdyUp5PnVDmEZTlA0TczXJdpuzRditIuNPrbEcU2XEqp-AjaQLfGt1lo5s5NlfilPu5U6M7WUTXLxKcn_Sg/s640/IMG_0114.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I was made for summertime. Sunshine, warmth, green and flowers everywhere. It's cliche to say I'm soaking up these days, but really, I am. Holding my boy close, and feeling his brother bump around inside of me. I am so thankful. I've got exciting plans for my little part of the internet world. Improvements, I hope. Changes. A combination of my personal life, and my photography. That's why it's been a little quieter over here. New things are in the making.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQT6qzF7WCUTvb938Lc7iMsrvSrABaWO4rtD86XhJpQRMQyBcfLDO8oIYLKomfQdIAJLMqRNmMnv5ykWdosnxf5HKQ_vU1RRaVtpvqVE8puTLUIGS81HY92nF46-z0XrsIVRPqVpDiEI/s1600/IMG_0306-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQT6qzF7WCUTvb938Lc7iMsrvSrABaWO4rtD86XhJpQRMQyBcfLDO8oIYLKomfQdIAJLMqRNmMnv5ykWdosnxf5HKQ_vU1RRaVtpvqVE8puTLUIGS81HY92nF46-z0XrsIVRPqVpDiEI/s640/IMG_0306-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_AtPnewUFZbKnO9k2bM0pagj9L531dznJfM2DvZlhe9QVgmI_vZ7sIADbAL80G97vyes6xmhQ7MGz0LJ_5LdpaxQ2yFviZtMiv8T-xGf3ZSbCh_j4nYRDF3b3lmXe7N1fUlJ3YKTOzik/s1600/IMG_0490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_AtPnewUFZbKnO9k2bM0pagj9L531dznJfM2DvZlhe9QVgmI_vZ7sIADbAL80G97vyes6xmhQ7MGz0LJ_5LdpaxQ2yFviZtMiv8T-xGf3ZSbCh_j4nYRDF3b3lmXe7N1fUlJ3YKTOzik/s640/IMG_0490.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And this little boy growing inside of me? He's a chunk of a kid already. I took old toe nail polish off last week, but have yet to muster the courage to repaint them. Slip on shoes are fabulous. Little brother gets lots of hiccups, because he does lots of somersaults with his mouth open! [At least that's my theory.] We're all hoping for red hair. He may or may not have a name by the time he arrives. </div>
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Look for a 32 week update on Thursday!</div>
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<i>Love,</i></div>
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<i>Ashlee</i></div>
<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-21059242019460305912013-05-30T11:33:00.001-04:002013-05-30T11:33:12.220-04:0028 Weeks | Baby #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz8W9MKUSRROCGIufeExEIY1d_yd2iRn_1C-POcq2QHTKl1Bk9drgRnHZoquK3OySIjDn0745scy4Wvz0mxbb_FevQqKrnnTpzNRGvbpFO5GBU4f9Jfi-yZZpFG5b_E0J-MEFvRtbeD0/s1600/28weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz8W9MKUSRROCGIufeExEIY1d_yd2iRn_1C-POcq2QHTKl1Bk9drgRnHZoquK3OySIjDn0745scy4Wvz0mxbb_FevQqKrnnTpzNRGvbpFO5GBU4f9Jfi-yZZpFG5b_E0J-MEFvRtbeD0/s640/28weeks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 20px;">How far along?: </b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 20px;">28 weeks! Woohoo 3rd Trimester! Here I am at<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2011/12/28-weeks.html" target="_blank">28 weeks with Ralphie</a></span>. Feeling about the same size-wise.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Total Weight Gain: </b>Prenatal appointment tomorrow. I think about +18.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Sleep: </b>Getting better. Re-teaching myself to sleep on my side. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Best moment this week: </b>I loved the relaxing visit we had to the beach. Digging a hole for my belly in the sand was great.</span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #555555; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Movement: </b><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Now in more than one place at once. Generally still just bumps and kicks, but </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">occasionally</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"> he really goes at it. He also likes to curl up right on my bladder.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Cravings: </b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Strawberries and dark chocolate. Mmm.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Gender: </b>Sweet, darling baby boy.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Labor Signs: </b>Nothing lately.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Wedding rings on or off: </b>On. So thankful for zero swelling. Hopefully that will last through the hot summer days that are coming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Happy or Moody most days: </b>This past month started with nightmarish moodiness, and ended with mountain-top happiness.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Belly Button in or out?</b> Half out! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I miss:</b> Sleeping on my back. And I really wanted to drink a big margarita last week at the beach.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Starting to show yet: </b>Everyone says so! My midwife told me, "Well, you finally did it! He's just popped right out." :)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Anything causing sickness or nausea: </b>No.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I am looking forward to:</b> soaking up every minute of this coming summer!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Milestones:</b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"> 3rd and final trimester! </span></span></div>
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-66393882348921922612013-05-02T10:52:00.001-04:002013-05-02T12:04:01.807-04:0024 Weeks | Baby #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwH7Vps12SjUwtsKC_wsIHNMfVS-8qGJI-LUNtzm7AEQLa7oRYdshEVPDBbKerAl61ZPcgBxH3TO_EHUMN4gnCRFplM87NNOzQA-Tnj-MDvfYckqSWPkilq39N8nAOn3pd7cUCou-w8GY/s1600/24+Weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwH7Vps12SjUwtsKC_wsIHNMfVS-8qGJI-LUNtzm7AEQLa7oRYdshEVPDBbKerAl61ZPcgBxH3TO_EHUMN4gnCRFplM87NNOzQA-Tnj-MDvfYckqSWPkilq39N8nAOn3pd7cUCou-w8GY/s640/24+Weeks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 20px;">How far along?: </b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 20px;">24 weeks. Here I am with <a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2011/11/24-weeks.html" target="_blank">Ralphie at 24 weeks</a> - definitely bigger this time!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Total Weight Gain: </b>Up 14 pounds</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Maternity clothes?</b> Mmhm!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Stretch marks?</b> No.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Sleep: </b>Good, though my back aches a lot.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Best moment this week: </b>I'm soaking up all this activity! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Movement: </b>Still as active as ever. Punches and kicks have moved to above my belly button, proving just how big baby is getting.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Cravings: </b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">I love food, it's true.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Gender: </b>Baby boy :)</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Labor Signs: </b>no - except some Braxton Hicks. Need to load up on my water!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Wedding rings on or off: </b>On.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Happy or Moody most days: </b>Happy, though I'll be honest, my buttons are easily pushed these days. :/</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Belly Button in or out?</b> Still in, but not <i>as in. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I miss:</b> Still nothing</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Starting to show yet: </b>mmhm.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Anything causing sickness or nausea: </b>No.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I am looking forward to:</b> Tanning my belly in Florida sunshine in 3 weeks!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Milestones:</b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"> 6 Month mark next week!</span></span></div>
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-81013716056511226702013-05-01T07:00:00.000-04:002013-05-01T07:00:12.462-04:00Good-bye April<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHGtQltG5r-0wgG-vbHSHKDKCrRw24H06lZ0ZsVn63atfPTAvyf4SjXf6QDdjG1wLhK0KPPk8wk20QAT6o0FYlERHOCmq2F3ZD76oorsO8ThZJhp7Is7-YQVCRT90c7psY9C8t4dAKtk/s1600/IMG_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHGtQltG5r-0wgG-vbHSHKDKCrRw24H06lZ0ZsVn63atfPTAvyf4SjXf6QDdjG1wLhK0KPPk8wk20QAT6o0FYlERHOCmq2F3ZD76oorsO8ThZJhp7Is7-YQVCRT90c7psY9C8t4dAKtk/s640/IMG_0003.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Project 365: 196 Lunchtime picnic. Soaking up the days where it's just the two of us.</td></tr>
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April is gone in a blink. Travels to see family, the blossoms of beautiful flowers, a covering of pollen everywhere, and little green worms by the thousands. Sunny days, and spring showers almost equally. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzpmDhamC8cUWA7GI-xuwqEw_4Yfsjek3Jx5th7mct1W0ugweTPRh9WA99Wbd5YeZnL76nOK8claPL35F0o9MFIRvGOy0JOnFEzcE6yMnBP21i_mMnPzmeTy2pgh3jUot2OHCJ3sxhds/s1600/IMG_0375-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzpmDhamC8cUWA7GI-xuwqEw_4Yfsjek3Jx5th7mct1W0ugweTPRh9WA99Wbd5YeZnL76nOK8claPL35F0o9MFIRvGOy0JOnFEzcE6yMnBP21i_mMnPzmeTy2pgh3jUot2OHCJ3sxhds/s640/IMG_0375-2.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Project 365:199 Pink Blossoms. Shadows.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgxztgEhkB4uXwtnPbj8vNUEEVsvxLA0eCbWDXTaPrqTeeC2mO_j0Oo87QRhlWh4cEkDQiE0J2FFwt1WIEHxZ-grW9biPt5_N7YHS7UP7AnREaqOSnSxJlPWk-6cVqjOej5qAiq20Nz4/s1600/IMG_0004-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgxztgEhkB4uXwtnPbj8vNUEEVsvxLA0eCbWDXTaPrqTeeC2mO_j0Oo87QRhlWh4cEkDQiE0J2FFwt1WIEHxZ-grW9biPt5_N7YHS7UP7AnREaqOSnSxJlPWk-6cVqjOej5qAiq20Nz4/s640/IMG_0004-3.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
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I spent the larger part of this month battling allergies, and then a nasty sinus infection. It lingers still. But, friends and neighbors blessed us over and over. We are thankful.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXwFhQvA1_T7edZiAdv_9KsQ68nzWTY913g6UDwQl3PYGLaWsm48_i9yyXFze6eW0_2js-3f7U2u1GhqPM7kFhmjWZUNs5vZXFGAZBVAu6igmtnRhjz8S9M3gu09Pm1Hs38wQ-sdYyGg/s1600/IMG_0191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXwFhQvA1_T7edZiAdv_9KsQ68nzWTY913g6UDwQl3PYGLaWsm48_i9yyXFze6eW0_2js-3f7U2u1GhqPM7kFhmjWZUNs5vZXFGAZBVAu6igmtnRhjz8S9M3gu09Pm1Hs38wQ-sdYyGg/s640/IMG_0191.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyjDzXIiyoJonlBKwdINLVUsMZzb48MM5bZCu5t3CUbJAcXJkqBTuGpejbkdXsmOD-QacgV8sAN3yYhnVEIkP15wZtO1SJ82amGrAIlJoXxhuarX-idXuEPeTwo94NHEHu6fpyOPX1Cnk/s1600/IMG_0192-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyjDzXIiyoJonlBKwdINLVUsMZzb48MM5bZCu5t3CUbJAcXJkqBTuGpejbkdXsmOD-QacgV8sAN3yYhnVEIkP15wZtO1SJ82amGrAIlJoXxhuarX-idXuEPeTwo94NHEHu6fpyOPX1Cnk/s640/IMG_0192-2.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJe_Z3oOhPzKNhDmoM30-55_YJLVqYiuR5BzD9d_Puh25ONNfWNBXv1TQ3LrjOeINRvCU0tDNYZyh1f4yGUs2Xch5JnQPPpyHwyCmYUseGuVcCg6xwnXfiPFZJfU1HiyQcniTcBRMeLYk/s1600/IMG_0123-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJe_Z3oOhPzKNhDmoM30-55_YJLVqYiuR5BzD9d_Puh25ONNfWNBXv1TQ3LrjOeINRvCU0tDNYZyh1f4yGUs2Xch5JnQPPpyHwyCmYUseGuVcCg6xwnXfiPFZJfU1HiyQcniTcBRMeLYk/s640/IMG_0123-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Project 365: 184 We love us some baby boys.<br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv91JYXOHDlmng3WhHRL1kFxDrnOzNnHpobOG3vH_vjlOMMvGQ9XdhVN5vF67UXFi6jeeDM9bidTxG0Sdm1JQgCey2WYiBqh6o5wg8B8vQQ4wjaSR3kqOTwN15rcRIDsBAbdI4pHtutNM/s1600/IMG_0401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv91JYXOHDlmng3WhHRL1kFxDrnOzNnHpobOG3vH_vjlOMMvGQ9XdhVN5vF67UXFi6jeeDM9bidTxG0Sdm1JQgCey2WYiBqh6o5wg8B8vQQ4wjaSR3kqOTwN15rcRIDsBAbdI4pHtutNM/s640/IMG_0401.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This little Ralphie is growing before our eyes. 8 steps in a row is his record. Overly-excited attempts result in scraped knees, but he doesn't mind. He can't shake the ridiculous grin off of his face. We're pretty sure he's just as pleased with himself as we are with him.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Project 365: 193 Hoarding all his favorite blankets.<br /></td></tr>
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We took a Monday to buy some seeds and young plants to put in the $1 crates I bought on craigslist. Spinach, kale and mixed greens, parsley, cilantro, melons, tomatoes and cucumbers. Grow little plants, grow!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcfTv7p19DHnT3qJq_ps-BGNR2i_RN7nzFK3PAXERs0b-muNV2QJVQ4Xet6S5fFenb2UTaW7hZKRULu6whpraj86z-ux5UtSk4YMkhhJekBus0AqeUEVsOZ0YEg-7mpw-MGcbq0d7SLA/s1600/IMG_0442.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcfTv7p19DHnT3qJq_ps-BGNR2i_RN7nzFK3PAXERs0b-muNV2QJVQ4Xet6S5fFenb2UTaW7hZKRULu6whpraj86z-ux5UtSk4YMkhhJekBus0AqeUEVsOZ0YEg-7mpw-MGcbq0d7SLA/s640/IMG_0442.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Project 365: 195 Monday project</td></tr>
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May is sure to be full. Zoo going, friend seeing, outside playing, swimming, walking, and toughening up our fare skin for Florida sunshine at the end of the month. [To say I'm excited for this little mini vacation would be an understatement.] Summer is right around the corner!</div>
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Happy May, y'all!</div>
Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-83950109198287653662013-04-23T08:53:00.000-04:002013-04-23T09:03:31.641-04:00One Year Old Ralphie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last week was perfect springtime for the Carolinas. Glencairn Gardens is in full bloom, and the sunny days just beckoned <i>come enjoy us. </i>Ralphie and I had just come home from our trip to Ohio and Michigan, and taking several days, in between loads of laundry, house cleaning, and photo editing to just relax seemed more than worth while.</div>
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This particular day is etched in my mind. It's one of those days I want to remember forever. Apple slices, PB&J, clementines and crackers. My smiley, wide-eyed boy sitting there, just looking at me. So happy to just <i>be.</i></div>
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<i>Just him, and me. </i></div>
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I love living so close to this little patch of paradise.</div>
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He soaks up, with this little quizzical brow, every bush, flower, and person we pass. He smiles with delight at the ducks and water fountains. He smiles half smiles as I do stupid things to try to get him to grin for the camera. <i>How big is Ralphie? </i>That one he knows like the back of his hand.</div>
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<i>Sooo Biiiig!</i></div>
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He's quiet and observant, but waves at anyone who says <i>hi </i>to him. Tossing a ball and crawling after it is a favorite pass time right now. Or, pushing his fire truck from one end of the house to the next, and back again. Best of all, take him outside. He will sit for an hour and watch the cars go by.</div>
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Still not walking, but getting close. Every chair was made for pushing, every box was made for climbing, and if he can find a box that needs emptied before climbing, that is even better. There isn't a cupboard in the house he hasn't discovered, a basket whose contents he doesn't know by heart. If <i>Toy Story </i>were true, and toys really could come to life and talk, they would probably say how slighted they felt, and the wooden spoons and measuring cups would toss their heads and laugh.</div>
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He is <i>delightful </i>this boy of mine, and every day with him I treasure. Every change, every milestone makes my mama's heart rejoice, even if first it twinges just a bit, and sighs thinking of days gone by. One year old Ralphie. He's just great.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdoYr73x1SMRP1Nza3a_51vCMFSM8mL3l7klARzaI_MJGF8mhgBanIXw9ipZs_ii_A_kqlAki08BNZ1jFaS91h4YDClxfCbbyxWSyQHhf09-lLPfFdNUq7w8XfkaMQ1oQdnpqkUDJsVo/s1600/IMG_0059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdoYr73x1SMRP1Nza3a_51vCMFSM8mL3l7klARzaI_MJGF8mhgBanIXw9ipZs_ii_A_kqlAki08BNZ1jFaS91h4YDClxfCbbyxWSyQHhf09-lLPfFdNUq7w8XfkaMQ1oQdnpqkUDJsVo/s640/IMG_0059.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-67964199041577250652013-04-18T11:46:00.000-04:002013-04-18T11:46:03.843-04:0022 Weeks | Baby #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Oops. I forgot to smile. :/ But look at this baby grow! It's been a whole month since <a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2013/03/18-weeks-baby-2.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">my last update</span></a>, and as you can see Little Brother has wasted no time. I <i>feel </i>bigger than I look, which is probably not a good thing, considering I still have 4 hot summer months to go before we can kiss this little boy's sweet face. But, overall, this second pregnancy has been a delight! It is so much easier to be pregnant when you know what's normal, and all the anxieties of your first pregnancy are distant memories you heartily laugh at.</div>
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<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 20px;">How far along?: </b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">22 weeks, and rolling right along. Here I am </span><a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2011/11/pregnancy-update-23-weeks.html" target="_blank">at 23 weeks with Ralphie</a>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Total Weight Gain: </b>Up 10 pounds</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Maternity clothes?</b> Mostly always, because I love summer maternity clothes! I still have a handful of my regular tops, and a few bottoms that I rotate in, too. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Stretch marks?</b> No.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Sleep: </b>Been kind of restless lately. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Best moment this week: </b>This little one is just a growin' and a growin'. Thankful to have had a healthy pregnancy and baby so far.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Movement: </b>He's a mover and a puncher. This kid doesn't stop! Sometimes I wonder if he is twice as active as his brother. It could just be I recognize the movement more the second time around.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Cravings: </b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Just that chocolate milkshake my husband had to go get me Monday evening. And Tuesday... man, did I want another one... haha. But I had to draw the line there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Gender: </b>Precious baby brother!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Labor Signs: </b>no</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Wedding rings on or off: </b>On.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Happy or Moody most days: </b>Happy!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Belly Button in or out?</b> Still in.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I miss:</b> Nothing right now. Loving this second trimester.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Starting to show yet: </b>yep!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Anything causing sickness or nausea: </b>Not really. Preparing meat...</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I am looking forward to:</b> Seeing my belly grow, and knowing it means Little Brother is growing, too!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Milestones:</b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"> Over halfway there (hopefully).</span></span></div>
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-50762749537332785782013-04-16T17:02:00.001-04:002013-04-16T17:02:31.760-04:00Family Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Living 12 hours from family can be tough. While Daniel and I were happy to have a fresh start to our new life together on our own in a new state and city, with new <i>everything</i>, living long distance from family and friends that you grow up with isn't easy. That's why, every chance we get to visit either of our families, we are thankful.</div>
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At the beginning of the month Ralphie and I headed north, first to Ohio, then on to Michigan. We "man-ed the fort" with Ralphie's great-grandma Mare-mare, while my parents took a much needed, and well-deserved weekend getaway to Florida to help celebrate my grandfather's milestone birthday. Hangin' with the kids all weekend? Well, of course that was fun. We made some memories.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 of the 9 - as of this fall, they'll be the "only" ones still at home.</td></tr>
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I used to think we all were so different looking. I look at these pictures and laugh. Dang! </div>
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<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-58296721990637563562013-03-29T19:35:00.001-04:002013-03-31T08:42:44.582-04:00Gender Reveal | Baby #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73QUuCh0xDBIvOjOm-R02fkbIHS24QJbeDKtVvwcvLjC5lJpZCnV27dweCndV26UTXOKp-4jNtcxsGI-h785yVpaRlIAis4u7QNmdn0Mns5gzravv6tw9bgJ16GoeSG0YsmULD2cfHqM/s1600/IMG_0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73QUuCh0xDBIvOjOm-R02fkbIHS24QJbeDKtVvwcvLjC5lJpZCnV27dweCndV26UTXOKp-4jNtcxsGI-h785yVpaRlIAis4u7QNmdn0Mns5gzravv6tw9bgJ16GoeSG0YsmULD2cfHqM/s640/IMG_0034.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sometimes, the pictures just say it all.</div>
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This is one of those times.</div>
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We are thankful. Very, very thankful.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOreHhsHVvmmFZhL3QsY8MjFSkUeo2n6G_rONkgMGvhI9AwHQEmCLRqN3p_kgyrA4BXOla4JH6jNeZuVeRqVPxCp95UhxT-Be3dh1_jGKzNkcpapDkP4oa7RMjuXzHLL6e1IcmwZF4CvM/s1600/IMG_0073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOreHhsHVvmmFZhL3QsY8MjFSkUeo2n6G_rONkgMGvhI9AwHQEmCLRqN3p_kgyrA4BXOla4JH6jNeZuVeRqVPxCp95UhxT-Be3dh1_jGKzNkcpapDkP4oa7RMjuXzHLL6e1IcmwZF4CvM/s640/IMG_0073.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(So scared because Mama was crying and screaming!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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TWO little boys. I was wrong. And I couldn't be happier.</div>
<br />Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-21095758036979203492013-03-25T20:17:00.000-04:002013-03-25T20:17:02.762-04:00Boy? Or Girl?<div style="text-align: justify;">
This coming weekend we'll be finding out if little #2's is a boy or a girl!</div>
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I'll be honest, I've had some uncertainty the last couple of days, but my husband and sister did some "convincing" and now I'm back on track for the big gender reveal. </div>
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Mama and Daddy are both sure our little baby is a GIRL.</div>
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Auntie Angela thinks it's a GIRL.</div>
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Most of our close friends think it's a GIRL, too... </div>
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Whether they want a girl, or genuinely think it's a girl... that is the question. ;) Of course, we just want a happy and healthy baby, but that should go without saying. I'm looking forward to bonding in a different way with this baby, and perhaps deciding if I like the surprise or the reveal better. I, personally, have a laundry list of reasons I would want <i>both </i>a boy or a girl. No matter what color this baby wears, blessings will abound!</div>
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SO. Leave a comment with your guess!</div>
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Is it a darling little boy? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTKCIMHdPOmf2lTvv5_-g8Z9JuDdpExWvQDSNs9OFx1pKS6CiSVn7vcYSdc5SzJXutYO2GNs-l6uhVutNvjAqhU11fj2tAKFSX9-OwPbV9yXOqnAP9oY8-Dp4FXTEcCe3esznidc01Fu4/s1600/IMG_0373+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTKCIMHdPOmf2lTvv5_-g8Z9JuDdpExWvQDSNs9OFx1pKS6CiSVn7vcYSdc5SzJXutYO2GNs-l6uhVutNvjAqhU11fj2tAKFSX9-OwPbV9yXOqnAP9oY8-Dp4FXTEcCe3esznidc01Fu4/s640/IMG_0373+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Or a precious baby girl?</div>
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Saturday we'll tally up the votes, and do a photo shoot reveal. Winning team gets the satisfaction of being right, and saying "I told you so," as many times as it pleases them!</div>
Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-53961284528790846592013-03-21T14:27:00.000-04:002013-03-21T14:28:00.312-04:0018 Weeks | Baby #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcInNv_1yEtMQPGkdpj_QUnFQyg1VAwPrqkFSfvZC4BiNlAqMEp2MxMIoMgrma9FLNXkeAx-YjVPQHZdQgJamzTut9K5Fo30HXDmsrlR8Qi8IMXGT8Z65Ktf9h7qoja_M2Bz5p3alzWPM/s1600/18weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcInNv_1yEtMQPGkdpj_QUnFQyg1VAwPrqkFSfvZC4BiNlAqMEp2MxMIoMgrma9FLNXkeAx-YjVPQHZdQgJamzTut9K5Fo30HXDmsrlR8Qi8IMXGT8Z65Ktf9h7qoja_M2Bz5p3alzWPM/s640/18weeks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><b style="font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 20px;">How far along?: </b><span style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">18 weeks! Seems like such a big number. Nearly half way. </span><a href="http://mrandmrsdanielwells.blogspot.com/2011/10/19-weeks.html" target="_blank">Here I am at 19 weeks with Ralphie.</a></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Total Weight Gain: </b>Still about 5 pounds. Lost some, then started gaining again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="color: #826d57;">Maternity clothes?</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #826d57;"> Sometimes. All my jeans are still comfortable, but I feel better if I've got a maternity shirt on. :)</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Stretch marks?</b> No.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Sleep: </b>Pretty good!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Best moment this week: </b>Flutters have continued, and then last night I felt some real bounces and punches! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Movement: </b>Definitely something in there! Every night I just lie and wait for something. Don't always feel anything, though.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Cravings: </b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Uhm... FOOD?! Yesterday I <i>had to have </i>a Moe's steak burrito. I generally don't have the same craving repeatedly, but there are definitely days when I just <i>have to have </i>something.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Gender Predictions: </b>Still thinking girl.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Labor Signs: </b>no</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Wedding rings on or off: </b>On.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Happy or Moody most days: </b>Been a little weepier lately, but overall happy.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Belly Button in or out?</b> Still way on in, but I can feel pressure behind the top of it, and still have hope it'll pop soon! I love me a good, popped pregnant belly button.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I miss:</b> Nursing Ralphie. :(</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Starting to show yet: </b>I think so. A couple close friends have noticed.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Anything causing sickness or nausea: </b>Still have that gag reflex kick in every time I brush my teeth. Meat that I prepare is also a queasiness-causer.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What I am looking forward to:</b> The ultrasound is next Friday!!! Can't wait to see this sweet itty bitty's face. <3</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;">Milestones:</b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px;"> Fo' real movement!</span></span></div>
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Ashleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16302841305582393050noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1459759581851856936.post-79488327757551828572013-03-15T09:15:00.000-04:002013-03-15T09:15:02.717-04:00Spring Mantel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">When we moved into our little old house a year ago, I was so excited about the mantel. I always had dreams of decorating it for the season, as I've seen other bloggers do. At Christmastime, I managed to do a little, and now for Spring I pulled together what I have and got this.</span><i style="text-align: justify;"> It's not much, but for starters, I'm happy.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2GvlkKjwNfCewL7Vzo0PRd1tjND2rBnncJLQ2j2FbUpbV-SowZwI5W817Oy-IGJLC4KSV3rmfo4PKJum-rj5iwzXcOsu0KD9p2HQB2C_a61yjd4znjElfmyDcaazow8Ffo9P7I3ng90/s1600/IMG_0113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2GvlkKjwNfCewL7Vzo0PRd1tjND2rBnncJLQ2j2FbUpbV-SowZwI5W817Oy-IGJLC4KSV3rmfo4PKJum-rj5iwzXcOsu0KD9p2HQB2C_a61yjd4znjElfmyDcaazow8Ffo9P7I3ng90/s640/IMG_0113.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I had fun during naptime one day cutting shapes for this bunting and hot glueing the pieces of paper onto a long line of twine. Simple, but cheery!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9DvZcMN9X5MgdUpzmyeR8Zt_Ht0kfK3AFyeGeoxmGloci_jrCzgXnQfElS5kFERQX5hvQBRNWGMNOU-pVW3OUgOWrguYyfs2fapW4igJidERg0wL9QRe-9_O6YTnWfSiy8tiPiiPQKY/s1600/IMG_0116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9DvZcMN9X5MgdUpzmyeR8Zt_Ht0kfK3AFyeGeoxmGloci_jrCzgXnQfElS5kFERQX5hvQBRNWGMNOU-pVW3OUgOWrguYyfs2fapW4igJidERg0wL9QRe-9_O6YTnWfSiy8tiPiiPQKY/s640/IMG_0116.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ralphie let me borrow some of his blocks for our little Welcome Spring message! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXIAAkK0fT5N_Mz5UxVaOmDMhF13w5SB_vZ2H_FOug0kJ1SdQk5Wk3OVfU3wiDo6SKyYIxtj60VYeOowlT88cZXUPX240hxOpGNLAeALxAM33ZeylrquZtL8HDnbR5hXRUYscxwSwIuk/s1600/IMG_0117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXIAAkK0fT5N_Mz5UxVaOmDMhF13w5SB_vZ2H_FOug0kJ1SdQk5Wk3OVfU3wiDo6SKyYIxtj60VYeOowlT88cZXUPX240hxOpGNLAeALxAM33ZeylrquZtL8HDnbR5hXRUYscxwSwIuk/s640/IMG_0117.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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I layered some of the pictures I generally keep on the mantel with the spring pictures I took of Ralphie last year when he was itty bitty. The colors pulled together well.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlcSopQtiljD6oaClVNJLh7_U-aTSY5ZiwNfhnBJCMSj1xUNfo4w999PMaFDt9C53QfpIqsL3o7cGmzC8fXdp-xp3JnfZShlCnfq0f8aGSysQrbGZmMCTZWJsULQEU-jd91M1frjPawc/s1600/IMG_0119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlcSopQtiljD6oaClVNJLh7_U-aTSY5ZiwNfhnBJCMSj1xUNfo4w999PMaFDt9C53QfpIqsL3o7cGmzC8fXdp-xp3JnfZShlCnfq0f8aGSysQrbGZmMCTZWJsULQEU-jd91M1frjPawc/s640/IMG_0119.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK3e5rKdrx_J3WSRl8Qxdcf9TXK3AnlMWkXsq6lfA20FHeiLi3CrK40X8jSRwewarUP6-DTqhVKadQNi0DxCv0Jp0txbeoGTkEiMkiQQSDhBSzJcCHCkthPeE8fHwXB4_AZkH6wySMLKY/s1600/IMG_0121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK3e5rKdrx_J3WSRl8Qxdcf9TXK3AnlMWkXsq6lfA20FHeiLi3CrK40X8jSRwewarUP6-DTqhVKadQNi0DxCv0Jp0txbeoGTkEiMkiQQSDhBSzJcCHCkthPeE8fHwXB4_AZkH6wySMLKY/s640/IMG_0121.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMVLvFB2NSWoGV_3A3g0nElprhtRfJ2mxXxt2NtHu_0Or92Hf8yZfMS3cvuBalitCbuekHx_QStrv68EbFvZoV26KR3JiX36m2FUYrwjJAGON8W8HywVT5YSRL6nRlmpx9ms4MoWRhxQ/s1600/IMG_0120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMVLvFB2NSWoGV_3A3g0nElprhtRfJ2mxXxt2NtHu_0Or92Hf8yZfMS3cvuBalitCbuekHx_QStrv68EbFvZoV26KR3JiX36m2FUYrwjJAGON8W8HywVT5YSRL6nRlmpx9ms4MoWRhxQ/s640/IMG_0120.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaKI9AxhZokJ6jF09ZObq1oH1CXzlxnBkIbEMFyJIaII9guWajM2YCUhFr1AjMZ2kSA15iW293oimMXTOC5jHFuXNizKZalR2T1vvPA4FrmWxfHu743gvMV4CKTHDObp_8QAS_vlKIj8/s1600/IMG_0122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaKI9AxhZokJ6jF09ZObq1oH1CXzlxnBkIbEMFyJIaII9guWajM2YCUhFr1AjMZ2kSA15iW293oimMXTOC5jHFuXNizKZalR2T1vvPA4FrmWxfHu743gvMV4CKTHDObp_8QAS_vlKIj8/s640/IMG_0122.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Welcome Spring! We are so ready for you around this house! </div>
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Bring on the warmer weather, the chilly breezes, the warm sunshine. We're ready.</div>
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