tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89667042327001923392024-02-06T22:05:31.580-05:00White and Yellow MusingsOur journey through parenting, cooking real food, and natural livingMegan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-78990313156282483522017-09-07T11:45:00.001-04:002017-09-07T11:45:09.885-04:00Oscar Quincy's Birth Story <div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Just <a href="http://whiteandyellowmusings.blogspot.com/2015/07/xander-zekiah-grand-entrance.html" target="_blank">like with Xander</a>, I spent a month in prodromal labor with pretty <a href="http://whiteandyellowmusings.blogspot.com/2014/12/life-with-hg.html" target="_blank">severe HG</a> symptoms controlling my life. On two different occasions we shipped the older two kids off with friends so we could head to the hospital, only to have contractions disappear as soon as the kids were gone. On Tuesday Aug 1st, Chou called my doctor and begged them to put me out of my misery, as I was contracting but getting nowhere and no longer able to eat or drink. They sent us to the hospital (so, again, we dropped off Xander. E was on vacation with my parents) who was not so compliant, but eventually gave me 2 bags of fluid, some Zofran, and sent me on my way. On Thursday, the midwife sent me back to labor and delivery due to a high fetal heart rate. While on the monitors for hours, baby's heart rate stayed around 170 with very occasional dips down to the 130s. After this pattern continued, the OB was fairly certain that the high readings were simply accelerations caused by excessive movement, and that 130 was the actual baseline heart rate, and she once again sent us on our way with instructions to come into the office again by Monday. Friday night around midnight I felt a few contractions, but nothing more than I had been feeling for a month. Around 2am I decided that we should probably make sure we could get ahold of friends to take Xander just in case things progressed. At 2:30 we packed the car, dropped Xander off, and headed to the hospital. We think we arrived around 3:15am. We parked and took a good 10 minutes to walk 3 steps, contract, walk 3 more steps, etc. etc. and eventually make it to the door. Chou checked us in and I headed to the restroom to sit and work through some more contractions for another 10 minutes. By the time I came out, they asked me if I wanted a wheel chair, and I gladly accepted their offer. They wheeled me back to a room (no triage this time, praise Jesus!) and gave me a gown and motioned to the attached bathroom for me to change. I decided that right where I was, still sitting in the wheel chair was good enough, and Chou and the nurse helped me put on the hospital gown and then hop over to the bed where they hooked up the monitor. I was getting uncomfortable and mentioned I that an epidural sounded like a great idea, and the nurse said, "well, let's make sure they're going to keep you first" before she left the room. Chou applied pressure for the next contraction or two, and I told him I felt like we needed people in the room, like we shouldn't be alone. He asked if I needed to push, and I said not yet. The doctor came back with the nurse and checked me. I was 9cm, he felt it was too late for an epidural, and the baby was still too high to break my water. I was fine without the epidural knowing I was at 9cm already and clearly not still in prodromal labor, but bummed he couldn't break my water. I generally get stuck at 9.5cm until they break my water. With E I stayed there for 6 hours before they broke it! Regardless, Chou applied pressure with the next contraction, and the OB took a few large steps back, informing Chou he was about to be showered with the water breaking. Sure enough, the next contraction broke my water at 3:42am, mere minutes after we made it back to the room. The nurse declared she was giving up trying to get an IV in my arm. I pushed with the next contraction and everyone in the room yelled at me to "STOP PUSHING!!!" The baby's head was out revealing the cord tightly wrapped around his little neck. The doctor clamped the cord, cut it, and then I pushed his body the rest of the way out at 3:44am. I asked if it was a boy or girl, and the oh-so-helpful doctor replied that he had no idea. Chou checked and announced it was a boy! Baby was incredibly blue and bruised from his quick entrance and unfortunate cord placement, so I kept picking him up off my chest to make him cry just to make sure he was breathing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He was born so fast he didn't expel any amniotic fluid, so he spent the first 12-13 hours refusing to suck or eat until he eventually spit up enough to make room in his small tummy. The nurses and pediatrician reassured us it was no big deal, so we just held him while he slept his first day of life away. He was born nameless (seems to be a trend) but we eventually settled on Oscar (meaning God's spear) Quincy (just cuz we like it, nod to John Quincy Adams). He goes by Oscar, Oscar Quinn, or just Quinn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oscar weighed 8 pounds even at birth and was 21 inches with a head circumference of 14cm. </span><br />
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-7314107841396552992017-09-06T16:45:00.001-04:002017-09-06T16:45:59.277-04:00Xander Turns Two!<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Xander Zekiah is two. Well, he turned two two months ago, but... life happens. Middle child problems, or something like that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He's all boy. He loves to be outside playing with sticks or in mud and testing his strength and balance by climbing and jumping and running endlessly. He is LOUD. He barely talks, although he communicates quite well, but he is loud! He's sweet, a total mama's boy, and a hot mess since Oscar arrived. I'm a little over the kicking, hitting, spitting, and full body meltdowns. Transitions are hard when you're two!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He loves to snuggle and often still falls asleep in my arms at naptime. He sleeps with E in her bed at night, and is still a great sleeper! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Xander is currently into dinosaurs, cars, trains, puzzles, and books! He has always loved to read, and would be happy to have me read to him all day every day. He particularly loves the How Do Dinosaurs books. A few tickles can completely change his mood, and he loves to chase and be chased. He can be bribed to do just about anything for a pack of fruit snacks (not that I would...) He loves riding rides at Dutch Wonderland, although he often looks unimpressed, bored, or even terrified. Without fail, he'll ask to do it again and again!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He has a spectacular sense of humor. The boy has been cracking jokes since he was 15 months old, and he still thinks he's absolutely hysterical. Normally I agree.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He was off the bottom of the growth charts for close to two years, and then all the sudden in January he started to grow! He's gained almost a pound a month since then, and all his jeans are suddenly too short. He's 25 pounds and 33 inches tall. He insisted he weigh and measure himself at every single OB visit I had this year.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We decided to take his 2 year pictures and he was NOT having it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He asked to sit in the car, so we went with it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He spotted animal crackers, and suddenly all was right with the world.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am so very thankful for this sweet little boy! I love watching him grow, learn, and smile!</span></span></div>
<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-10187577006563207052017-09-06T16:07:00.000-04:002017-09-07T11:47:20.597-04:00Oscar Quincy's First Month<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oscar is somehow already a month old. I have no idea how that happened! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He came home after 24 hours in the hospital and enjoyed a few days with his siblings. We were just starting to get into a rhythm at home when he was sent straight back to the hospital on day 4 for phototherapy to treat jaundice. Once again poor Xander was shipped off to friends and once again E snuck her way into the hospital to stay with Oscar. Having a baby who hates to be put down and only sleeps swaddled forced to lay naked under lights and unable to be held proved challenging for all involved. Fortunately we had our own room and our nurses were fantastic. We were able to syringe feed pumped milk after each nursing session to avoid formula and help keep him from dehydrating under the lights. We had the added benefit of working with a lactation consultant while we were there to help him learn how to latch. He's still learning a month later, but doing so much better! After two long days of 3 overhead lights and a biliblanket underneath, we got to go home. He spent another 4 days on the biliblanket at home before bidding jaundice "goodbye!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Since all of that drama, we've spent a week with Mommom, been all over Lancaster County enjoying market and Dutch Wonderland. We got to meet E's kindergarten teacher, see her classroom, and enjoy a back-to-school night. We've been to church and on hikes, had lazy days at home and just a handful of sleepless nights.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oscar is my first baby to take a bottle, and he gets one regularly at night from Dad so that I can sleep! He's a pretty grumpy baby, but sleeps well enough that I forgive him. He has only smiled in his sleep and has Xander's adorable dimple on his right cheek.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E adores him and has been a huge help since his arrival! Xander adores him, too, but he still hasn't forgiven me for having a baby.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oscar is now up to 9 pounds 5oz from his lowest weight of 7 pounds on the day he was admitted to the hospital. He's 21.5 inches with a head circumference of 15cm. He's gone from 90th percentile for height to 50th for both height and weight. If he follows his siblings' lead, he'll soon fall off the bottom of the charts. He's about to outgrow 3 month clothes due to his length, but he's still way too skinny to size up.</span><br />
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-22140663078774110272016-11-03T18:24:00.000-04:002016-11-03T18:24:52.573-04:00Ode to Target<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way your dollar isle</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Draws me in, fills my car</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way your darn Wi-Fi</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">gives no signal, not a bar</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way your app won't launch</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On the network all your own</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way I need to scan</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Every item with my phone</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My kids run wild and fill the cart</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">While I will the app to scan</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Just to find I saved five cents</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This was such a lousy plan</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Your app thinks saving is a game</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">with levels to unlock</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'm no gamer this is not fun</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">my time it seems to mock</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way I cannot find</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the deals that I most need</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cartwheel takes so long to load</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">with nigh an endless feed</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I come for diapers and shampoo</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">but always leave with more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Who can resist your clearance racks</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way I score</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way your buyers know</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Exactly what I'm lacking</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Some wall decor, pillows and food</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Perhaps a bit of string</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way that one quick trip</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Never fails to cost a lot</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I try and try to turn blind eye</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But really I cannot</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way your Circo brand</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">has vanished without trace</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I loved those socks for baby boy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">No others can replace</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way I always come</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'm sure it's accidental</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hate the way I don't hate you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">well maybe just a little</span><br />
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-68160265168436360792016-06-27T10:57:00.002-04:002016-06-28T16:01:29.899-04:00Xander Turns One<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hair: light brown</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eyes: dark brown</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Height: 27 inches</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Weight: 17 pounds (best guess) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Teeth: 6</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Words: mama, dada, Elli, poppop, dog, bye</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Foods: whatever anyone else is eating</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Favorites: wrap naps, animals, Elli, splashing in baths, showers, pools</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's time to: cruise, climb, clap, wave, splash</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Personality: sweet, laid back, joyful, silly</span></div>
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-51235234998256759702016-02-15T13:04:00.000-05:002016-02-15T13:04:42.035-05:00Toddler Valentine's Day Crafting<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hey, E? Want to scroll through Pinterest with me and find something fun to do together? You want to make these <a href="http://www.housingaforest.com/heart-hippo-craft/" target="_blank">adorable heart shaped animals</a>? One for all your friends? How sweet. Let's print the patterns! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oh, choose a different one to start with, Mommy doesn't do mice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Good choice! The hippo is adorable!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We can cut the pattern out together, trace it onto construction paper for you to cut out each and every piece, and then you can glue and tape it together. How lovely!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">{Twenty loooong minutes later}</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Great job, E! He's adorable! I'm so happy we could make him together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wait, what do you mean you want to do more?! I think this adorable little hippo is perfect! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Let's do something else. Anything else! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">...Oh, okay, fine. But this time I'm cutting. You can do all the gluing/taping. Okay?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">More?!?!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You've got to be kidding me. Okay, okay, we'll wing it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oops he's upside down. He'll live. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What do you mean he needs eyes? He looks perfect with no eyes! Well, if you can find googly eyes I certainly won't stop you from gluing them on his face.</span></div>
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-53833597772623308762015-12-15T12:24:00.001-05:002015-12-15T12:24:49.741-05:00An honest mom's guide to new baby essentials<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've read countless Pinterest lists of <i>Essential Newborn Items</i>. They range from basic to excessive, crunchy to mainstream, and more often than not, flat out ridiculous. How did I survive without 25 pairs of newborn socks or the $1500 stroller?! I'll never know. <a href="http://www.zulily.com/invite/mchou9864" target="_blank">Zulily</a> had a <i>New Baby Essentials</i> shopping category recently that included items such as facial masks for guests to wear to contain their germs. Friends don't let friends share air with their baby.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The simple truth is that what is essential to me probably isn't essential to you. What was essential for my daughter was very different than what was essential for my son. At five months old, my dear boy has spent zero minutes in a stroller, sleeping in a crib, or bathing in a baby tub.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So what do you really need for that new bundle of joy? Here's my honest list.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">5. Stain fighting super powers</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Even if you embrace stains as works of art, kids have a knack for staining the one shirt that is actually semi-flattering that allows you to easily breastfeed in public. Or vomiting on those pants you tried on for thirty seconds just to make sure they'll work for the Christmas party. Or pooping all over the sofa during a midnight diaper change. OxiClean, Shout, or your all homemade mixture of peroxide, Dawn, and unicorn tears is your friend even when your baby isn't.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">4. Strong Coffee</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It still amazes me that anyone can function, let along parent, without this nectar from God himself. There's no shame in copious coffee consumption when you haven't slept in weeks, months, or years.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">3. Fresh Air</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Even if it's walking in circles around your back yard, fresh air can help you and baby recharge. It's my first line of defense against a grumpy baby or grumpy self. You might even get a few minutes of exercise while you're at it.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">2. Sense of Humor</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When the baby poos mid diaper change, causing both you and baby to need to bathe and change your clothes for the third time today, and it's not even 10am. And it's the only day this week you've actually showered or been dressed by 10am. Or when you wake your husband in the middle of the night and tell him to stop crying, not realizing that three week old infant is the one crying. Or when your toddler is out back butt naked while you obliviously snuggle your sleeping baby on the sofa. Or when the toddler wants you to sing "Let it Go" after an hour long tantrum. Or when you're so tired you walk the dog and don't realize you come back home without the dog. Or when you're at the grocery store to fulfill your donut craving and the stranger in front of you, upon hearing you still have 3 months of pregnancy to go, loudly exclaims, "Well, I guess when you're <i>that</i> short, baby has nowhere to go but straight out!" Or when your toddler completely photobombs your pictures of the baby even though she refused to join when you wanted her to. Or when you spend your Saturday night in the store checking out baby equimpent after the swing breaks. Or when your toddler, who is the most outgoing kid you know and an expert at cheesing it up for the camera, hasn't smiled for a professional photographer in the last two years. Or when the toddler, who is the reason you cosleep because she's never slept a wink in a crib, insists on sleeping in the crib when you set it up for the next baby. Or that week she spent every night on the new dog bed rather than her brand new pink ruffly big girl bed. Or when you're 37 weeks pregnant and your husband decides we need to scrap our list of baby names and start over. Or when you go into labor at 39 weeks and baby is born before you've come up with another name. Or when the baby empties an entire bottle of oregano on the dog. Or that day that was so long that you didn't realize you put the baby to bed without a diaper. Or when your husband graciously agrees to clean the bathtub when your baby is a few days old, and he ends up with a chemical burn from your organic all natural cleaner requiring two different steroids, an antibiotic, and an anti-inflammatory drug. Need I go on? You're going to need to be able to laugh at yourself. You may very well cry first, but being able to laugh will help.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">1. Mom Friends</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Everyone needs a friend who will come over immediately the first time the baby falls off the sofa, who will come pick up your naked screaming baby so that you can take a nap, or heaven forbid, shower in peace for just a few minutes, who will laugh at you when necessary. Friends who show up with coffee and ignore your mountain of laundry, who treat your kids as their own, and who support your family even when they parent completely opposite of you. Friends who will laugh at you, cry with you, and help you survive your tiny tyrants.</span><br />
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-61613885058631993532015-10-26T10:51:00.001-04:002015-10-26T10:51:24.207-04:00Toddler Convos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some recent toddler convos:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>While talking to E about fleeing dangerous situations:</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E: Well, I don't want to be safe. I want to stay. I want to fight the bad guys!<br />
Mommy: We run. We let the policemen get the bad guys. Do you want to be a policewoman?<br />
E: Why not doctors? Why don't they get the bad guys?<br />
Mommy: Do you want to be a doctor that fights bad guys?<br />
E: Why aren't we eating pancakes?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>As she rolls up a napkin and shoves it in Daddy's pocket:</i><br />
E: Here, take this to the birthday party for me. Then, if I get birthday party on my face, you can wipe it off.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>While she plays:</i><br />
Mommy: Oh what a tiny baby you have!<br />
E: I know! She's so tiny! She's 300 pounds. She just came out of my belly. She's five years old but she'll be one at her birthday!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>From a recent car ride now that we turned her forward facing:</i><br />
Mommy, look, there are cars! It's dark in here. Why can't I see? Can we turn a light on? Why did you stop? Why is the light red? Do you like my sparkly shoes? Where is Xander? Is he home with <span style="color: black;">D</span>addy? Why didn't he come? How far away are we? You can go now! I think you should go that way. Why didn't you go that way? Why don't we ever go that way? Well, yesterday, at the beach, we had ice cream. Can we have ice cream? There's still a bug on the car. Is he inside or outside? Why didn't you get the bug? Can I squash the bug? Let's wash the car. It's dirty. Is Xander awake yet? Is Daddy at work? I'm going to save this last piece for Daddy. Never mind, I ate it. Why did you stop? Why aren't you going? Let's go that way!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Bedtime conversations:</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E: Daddy, can I sleep in Mommy's bed tonight?<br />
Daddy: No.<br />
E: Thank you so much! That's so kind of you!<br />
Daddy: I said no.<br />
E: Um, I don't think so.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mommy: Why don't you go put on some play clothes?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E: Where are we going?!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mommy: We're staying here. Just put on some clothes that can get dirty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E: Okay. I'll go find a plain tutu.</span></div>
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-65022244295434024012015-08-25T23:10:00.000-04:002015-08-25T23:10:13.258-04:00Why having a three year old sister is the best thing ever<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkbBkVlLbF6jV31lVN7OoNfm1J4fvIJcFgm96M-SLnuvM7iNxPsZZkFEtgfF9NdG-f6tvixUpaJaXWvQ2PaMHcn7uLUqcM1Y85HEv3U-x9TlI0u8J_9-a3tvTX7bd3nTHEqWSmGc-0kg/s1600/IMAG1158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkbBkVlLbF6jV31lVN7OoNfm1J4fvIJcFgm96M-SLnuvM7iNxPsZZkFEtgfF9NdG-f6tvixUpaJaXWvQ2PaMHcn7uLUqcM1Y85HEv3U-x9TlI0u8J_9-a3tvTX7bd3nTHEqWSmGc-0kg/s320/IMAG1158.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When Xander was born, the hospital pediatrician told me that optimum child spacing was 3 years 7 months. I was immediately filled with regret and remorse. Had I simply held off for nine more days, I could have given both E and Xander (Xe/Z/Xe Man) the best possible start on life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Actually, I couldn't have cared less. I was just happy to not be pregnant any longer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And that doctor was a bit of a nut who told me I was her favorite mother of the day and that I was killing my child all within a five minute conversation, but that's another story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Despite being a whole nine days off from some arbitrary, or possibly well researched, ideal, I feel that Z is greatly benefiting from having a sister that is 3 years, 6 months, and 21 days older than him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>1) He's learning to always be alert and prepared.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My friend mentioned that Z always looks a little stunned/scared. I'm pretty sure it is from never knowing when his older sister is about to pounce, squeeze him til he can't breathe while declaring her undying love for him, or pick him up when I'm not watching (not that I would ever let him out of my sight!) I'm fairly certain that one day hyper alertness and the the ability to sense the enemy approaching from a mile away could come in handy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>2.) He gets way cooler songs sung to him.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I used to rock E to sleep in the middle of the night, I'd sing her sweet lullabies. My favorite went:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Hey beautiful girl<br />
Daddy loves you<br />
He loves you<br />
Most beautiful girl <br />
In the whole wide world</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I'm singing to Z, it's usually whatever song is in my head. Since E has been on a Tangled kick lately, he usually hears:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I'm malicious mean and scary <br />
My sneer could curdle dairy<br />
And violence-wise my hands are not the cleanest<br />
But despite my evil look<br />
And my temper and my hook <br />
I've always yearned to be a concert pianist... </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Clearly, he's benefiting from living with a three year old. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>3.) His every move is well monitored.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E is always more than happy to check on him and make sure he's still sleeping. Having a first hand report is so much more helpful than the static filled monitors we had last time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E: He's still sleeping! I didn't wake him up! <br />
Me: Wonderful! Thank you!<br /><i>
(30 seconds later)</i><br />
E: He's crying! <br />
Me: What happened?<br />
E: I opened his eyes for him. I think he wants to be awake.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So. Much. Better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>4.) He always receives attention and comfort when he cries.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E doesn't like Z crying and is quick to comfort him. She likes to hold a pacifier (that he hates) in his mouth and when all else fails she's willing to smother him to so the crying stops. Sibling love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>5.) He's developing a strong immune system. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E didn't get her first cold until she was almost a year. Thanks to a sister with the sniffles, Z got his first cold at one week. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>6.) Z's three year old sister is always willing to test things out for him. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From his itty bitty clothes to the swing, Moses basket, pacifier, toy, or car seat, she's tested it all.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">7.) Having a three year old sister guarantees that everyone takes care of Z properly.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She's very eager to correct your hold, your burping technique, and my nursing position. She keeps a very accurate account of his diaper output and his feeding schedule (I didn't even know he had a feeding schedule!) Without her devoted oversight, Z would be lucky to be alive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think we can conclude based on a research sample of one, that a three year seven month age gap is truly ideal... at least for the three year old.</span>Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-47372419371567662762015-07-23T11:01:00.001-04:002015-07-28T13:51:12.094-04:00Xander Zekiah's First Month<p dir="ltr">Dear Xander,</p>
<p dir="ltr">We've had the pleasure of knowing you on this side of the womb for a whole month already! You are a dream baby, perfectly content and very easy going. When you sleep you are floppy and when you're awake you are happy. From birth you have audibly laughed in your sleep and you already smile at your mama both in your sleep and when you're awake. I'm really hoping to catch your little sleep chuckle on video one of these days. In your first week of life you slept through the night twice and you've continued to sleep well. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You have rolled tummy to back more times than I can remember. The Dr says it's just a random movement and not a purposeful roll, but don't worry, Mommy and Daddy are well aware that you're simply advanced. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You still struggle with the whole nursing thing, slurping and gulping and choking until milk pours out your nose. You don't seem to mind, though, and you're already growing bigger. Tear. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You are still in Premie/Newborn diapers and are just starting to outgrow newborn clothes. Please stay small just a little while longer! </p>
<p dir="ltr">You have been everywhere in you ring sling or woven wrap, because we're just so excited to finally leave the house! You've been to market every week, church, walks downtown, parks, and birthday parties. You're happy on the go and like a good poolside nap. But really, who doesn't? </p>
<p dir="ltr">We love you and are so glad you're here!</p>
Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-63311225159049277052015-07-02T10:19:00.000-04:002015-07-02T10:19:59.852-04:00Xander Zekiah's Grand Entrance<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From the moment I found out I was expecting, I was convinced this baby was coming early, hopefully by mid June. I felt very distinct baby flutters as early as 10 weeks, and was in maternity pants just as soon. In my first pregnancy I didn't bother with maternity pants most of the time and wore my regular low rise jeans right up until birth. This time around, those same jeans were too uncomfortable to wear even in the first trimester.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After a grueling <a href="http://www.whiteandyellowmusings.blogspot.com/2014/12/life-with-hg.html" target="_blank">8 months of hg</a>, I started contracting regularly during the afternoon of May 29th. They were coming every 3-5 minutes apart and kept going through me eating, napping, and walking. Although not particularly strong, they were consistent and lasted for 14 hours before disappearing. They picked up again for a few hours on Sunday, coming a bit stronger but disappearing after only an hour or two. This pattern continued every few days. Sometimes they lasted for an hour, sometimes half a day. Sometimes I barely noticed them and other times they could be painful. Exhausted emotionally and physically from the endless prodromal labor, I tried every trick in the book to kick start labor. Some did nothing, others produced enough contractions to interrupt my day but not to start active labor. The beginning of June came and went with my hg once again getting worse by the day. I was only able to keep down simple carbs, bread, and some dairy. My OB and I changed up my meds yet again in another failed attempt to get the middle-of-the-night vomiting under <span style="color: black;">control, and the waiting game continued.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finally, on Father's Day at exactly 39 weeks, I woke up at 3am with contractions that felt different. They were stronger although still completely manageable and felt serious enough that I woke Chou up and we started to get things together for the hospital. At 4:30, I said we should call my mom at 5:00 to come get my daughter. I then had two consecutive killer contractions and decided now was a good time to call mom. They kept coming every 3 minutes but only lasting 35-45 seconds. At 9am I decided to take a nap and woke up half an hour later because the contractions got so strong. Now they were 50 seconds long and increasingly painful. We worked through them one at a time while sitting on a yoga ball, and Chou kept me fed and hydrated. Around 2:00 or 2:30pm I walked to the bathroom and the contractions piled one on top of each other. Chou grew really concerned, thinking for a minute he'd be delivering a baby then and there. I was growing really tired and decided to try to rest again. I fell asleep, waking to work through contractions and then falling back asleep. I woke up around 4:00pm and the contractions were gone. I could work up the occasional contraction by walking or climbing stairs, but gone were the consistent, active labor contractions that had been present all day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was furious and frustrated. My month long labor just wouldn't end. It was late enough in the day that our Father's Day plans were ruined so we decided to go to bed and get some sleep. We woke up at 8pm and decided to try to walk the baby out just as it started to downpour. It was another two hours before the rain cleared and we started walking. We walked til midnight, contracting occasionally but still not returning to active labor. We decided to call it a night and see what my OB would do for me at my scheduled appointment the following morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I woke up at 2am with more contractions. I got out of bed to use the bathroom and quickly realized we were back in business. I woke Chou and told him it was go time. I took a quick shower, we grabbed the last of our things, and made our way to the car. I took a bite to eat as we drove and immediately needed coffee to wash it down. Knowing the hospital wouldn't approve, I had Chou stop at Sheetz for a coffee and then we continued to the hospital. We arrived and checked in around 3am and spent an hour in triage while they monitored the baby and contractions, informed me I was at 4cm dilated and 80 percent effaced, and doing well. They decided to admit me and let me sit on a ball while they got my IV going. I was in a lot of pain and pretty convinced we were going to go another day in active labor and still not give birth. I was emotionally spent, physically exhausted, and ready to be done. I said I was ready for an epidural. After nine months of hell, I wanted an easy ending. Chou encouraged me to get in the Jacuzzi before we did anything else. I needed an hour of fluids before I could be given an epidural, so in his mind it was worth trying the water before we made any decisions. He was supportive of whatever I wanted, but I could tell he really wanted to try the tub, so I agreed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We grabbed his phone and used it to play a worship station on Pandora and hopped in the Jacuzzi. Chou applied counter pressure during the contractions and I felt amazing! I relaxed and worked one contraction at a time. I was afraid the water would slow labor, but we decided it wouldn't do any more harm than laying in bed with an epidural, so we continued. The music playing was exactly what I needed for each and every contraction, as if God hand picked the playlist for my labor. After a bit of time I could feel the contractions change and could tell they were getting more effective. Eventually I needed constant counter pressure from Chou, even in between contractions. The nurse came in at 6am and told me I'd have to get out at 6:30 so they could put me on the monitor. I ignored her and she sensed my noncompliance and sent the midwife in to deal with me. The midwife came in at 6:15 and gently coaxed me out of the tub, allowing me time to work through contractions and make my way to the bed. My pain skyrocketed, as I was already struggling to control it in the tub. She checked me and I was 9cm. She had me push with the next contraction, but I still had a little lip. She suggested that breaking my water could get rid of the lip, getting me to 10cm and ready to push. I had zero objections to anything that would end the pain and told her to go ahead. She broke my water at 6:26am and I immediately dilated the rest of the way. With the next two contractions she had me give a few gentle pushes, and baby boy Chou was born at 6:30am.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Chou and I couldn't believe it. After such a long hard nine months, he was finally here! And without drugs! We did it! We survived! We decided fairly quickly that we'd name him Xander and spent a few hours throwing around options for middle names. I had already decided I wasn't finalizing a name until I got some good, fresh food in me. After some fruit for lunch and some more fruit and salad for dinner I agreed to the name we had come up with while snuggling him that morning. Xander (diminutive of Alexander, meaning defender of men) Zekiah (the Lord remembers) was officially named that night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As soon as he was born, we realized we were in a complete 4g dead zone. Our phones couldn't get signal and struggled to upload and send pics to friends and family. The fact that Pandora played effortlessly for two hours of labor was truly a gift from God.</span></div>
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-50380268784567754112014-12-28T20:07:00.001-05:002014-12-28T20:40:37.679-05:00Thankful<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Things hg makes me thankful for:
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Chou</i>
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Chou has run to every store in the county in search of one food I can eat, he's missed work to sit with me in the hospital, and takes over parenting full time the minute he gets home from a long day of work. He's given up many foods and cooking in attempt to keep me out of the hospital. He's scheduled doctor's appointments, pharmacy refills, and childcare while I've laid helpless on the sofa. Chou is amazing!
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Friends & Family</i>
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Because of my friends and family, E left the house at least twice a week during the two months I didn't. They picked her up, dropped her off, and loved her in between. They bought us a Christmas tree, decorated our house, and checked in on me regularly. They listened to me talk nonstop, like they were the first person I saw in a month... because they were. They fed Chou when he wasn't allowed to eat at home. My mom made dinner and cake for Chou and E's birthdays and all I had to do was show up. E still talks about her cake a month later. We truly would not have survived without our friends and family this time around.<br />
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Modern medicine</i>
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While most medicines I've been on only last a few days or a few weeks, they do offer relief. When they fail, I'm able to get fluids and drugs via IV in the hospital. I hate to think where I'd be without modern medicine!
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Weekends</i>
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Weekends have been a time for Chou to take care of me and give me some extra rest. They help us start Monday with a little more strength and nutrition, and give us the best possible start for the new week.
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Health</i>
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We don't know what we have til it's gone. Having hg has made me so thankful for my health. It sucks, it's miserable, but it has an expiration date. Not everyone who is sick has the comfort of knowing when it will end like I do.
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-13667111436475965922014-12-28T19:57:00.001-05:002014-12-28T20:11:46.030-05:00Life with hg<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hg. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hyperemesis gravidarum. Extreme nausea and vomiting in pregnancy. NOT morning sickness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thanks to hg...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We go from organic whole foods to whatever I think I can stomach, none of which is natural or whole. Currently it's cheesy waffle fries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In E's imaginary world, everything from her baby to her teddy is now "so sick" and needs to rest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We go from little screen time to TV night and day while mommy tries to rest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We go from home cooked meals every night to "don't you even think of smelling up this house!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My number one survival key for working from home/staying home with kids is that I NEED to get out of the house every day, even if it's just an hour long walk at lunch. With hg, I didn't leave my house for 3 weeks straight. For 6 weeks I didn't go anywhere except doctor or my mom's. Someone told me it was the first sunny day after 20 some odd days of overcast/rain. This was news to me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Normally I adore Christmas, the hustle & bustle, the decorations. This year, we only have a tree because our friends bought it and delivered it. It's only decorated because they stuck around to string lights and hang ornaments. My friends rock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Every single gift was ordered online by Chou & delivered to my door. Praise Jesus for the Internet! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My grandma came to visit. E shared chocolate with her. Grandma asked her why she didn't share with mommy. E replied, "because I don't want mommy to puke." She was right and I appreciated her thoughtfulness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E curls up next to me on the couch and says, "Mommy, I miss you!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We go in for a normal appointment and my dr won't even do the exam. Instead we hear, "I'll let the hospital know you're on your way."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I return to the Dr for a follow up, and hear the exact same thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Chou's favorite foods is one of my worst triggers. He's required to shower & brush his teeth immediately after consuming. Even so, I still get sick. But then again, maybe that's true of a typical pregnancy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My natural remedies go out the window. I'm faced with swallowing pills that could very well harm my baby, in hopes that it does less harm than the severe dehydration and malnutrition that are guaranteed if I skip the pills. When those pills stop working, I get stronger ones, then stronger ones, then a combo of other ones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes, I've tried "that." Nope it didn't work, but thanks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E tells everyone she meets that mommy is so sick. Pretty sure the world is convinced I have just exposed them to the flu or ebola.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While I'm wallowing on the couch, E empties a quarter role of toilet paper into the toilet. Excitedly she shows me her handiwork. Upon seeing my face she starts singing a Daniel Tiger diddy, "When you're feeling frustrated, take a step back & ask for help!" That darn tiger is now banned from my TV. Seriously.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">No, I'm not excited just yet. I actually despise this child at the moment, but thanks for that awkward moment that's now here. </span></div>
Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-17364219318925051352014-09-25T10:13:00.000-04:002014-09-25T10:13:05.520-04:00Our Growing Girl<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E is at an age where it can feel like every breath is a battle. Tasks she used to love, like picking up her toys or feeding the dogs, can be a source of fun and entertainment one day but pure torture the next. Convincing her to do just about anything on my schedule rather than hers is nearly impossible (some things haven't changed all that much since birth), and heaven forbid I try to throw out her old food that's been sitting untouched for hours. However, in the midst of all the willpower and drama, she's growing into a charming little girl.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In no particular order, here is a small sample of the wonderfully sweet moments I get to witness every day with this little girl. These are the things I want to focus on in the day to day, and what I want to remember forever.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lately E's been reading books to her dolls and stuffed animals, and I love hearing her interpretation of the pictures on the page. Her tone and inflection are awesome! Her imagination soars as she brings her storybooks to life for her minions, and I usually catch myself taking a break from whatever I'm doing in order to hear what goes on in that little mind of hers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Her daddy taught her to touch cups and say, "Cheers!" before she takes a sip of water. In my opinion, this is much improved from slamming the cup down and exclaiming "Gan Bei!" like they were doing a few months ago. Her cheers, however, has transcended way beyond cups. In the past few weeks, we have exclaimed, "cheers!" as we've touched plates, bowls, spoons, granola bars, pepper slices, and even our toes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When E wants something that she knows she may not get, she likes to come up to me, smile, and whisper very softly. Typically I'm sitting at my desk working and she'll come up and whisper, "Tigey!? Watch Tigey?" when she wants to watch Daniel Tiger. It's adorable, and sometimes it works.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E's grown into a really sweet and thankful little girl. Often when I bring her a snack or fetch something for her, she'll emphatically proclaim, "Thanks, Mommy!!" It warms my heart every single time. She loves giving random hugs and telling me she misses me, which for some reason she thinks is the same as loving me. Her standard response to "I love you!" is "I miss you, too!" This morning I was reminding her (again!) that she's not to draw on her pants with a pen, and she looked at me and starting singing, "I miss you! I miss you! I miss you! I miss you!" It's remarkably hard to discipline a toddler who is expressing their undying love for you through a song.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She's recently started repeating things she's learned on Daniel Tiger (a good reminder that it's important to watch what she's viewing!) and it makes me laugh. She'll say, "Mommy, I don't feel well. I need a nap." as she crawls onto the sofa and pretends to sleep for 3.2 seconds. Her baby no longer cries, instead she's "upset". The other day I heard her hammering away with her plastic toys. She was yelling above her own noise, "Too loud! Too loud! My ears hurt!" You and me both, kid. You and me both.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last night we got home really late, and I had some work that needed to be completed before the guys got into the shop at the crack of dawn this morning. My computer program spazzed out and destroyed a large drawing in the process. I yelled some choice words at my computer and E was very concerned. She asked if I was okay, and I told her I was not. She then asked daddy if I was okay and he told her I was frustrated. She looked at me and started singing, "It's okay to feel sad sometimes. Little by little, you'll feel better again!" and then she asked if I felt better. Um, yup, you melted my heart and I feel great! Thanks, baby girl!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The other day we were walking Cali, and as we walked passed a house a dog barked and growled from inside. E was very concerned, walked over to Cali, and whispered, "It's okay, it's okay." as she hugged her around the neck. It was a very sweet although I'm sure Cali would have preferred to put the growling dog in its place rather than be hugged by a toddler.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm constantly amazed that I get the privilege of being this girl's mama. It's amazing how so much sweetness, stubborness, and personality can be wrapped into such a tiny package.</span><br />
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-76228487747747151712014-09-10T20:00:00.000-04:002014-09-10T20:13:04.413-04:00Welcome, Fall!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It's hard to believe September is here! I'm both sad and a little relieved that this whirlwind of a summer is coming to an end. In the last three months, we have celebrated upcoming births, new babies, first birthdays, third birthdays, and 30th birthdays with our dear friends, thrown E her first party, picked strawberries and peaches and blackberries and cherries, dog-sat for friends, had family visit from Taiwan, sipped coffee and devoured meals with some amazing people, decorated a new toddler bedroom for E, enjoyed a </span><a href="http://www.whiteandyellowmusings.blogspot.com/2014/09/a-week-at-beach.html" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">week at the beach</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> in Stone Harbor, hosted countless toddler play dates, frequented the new Asian noodle restaurant in town, reconnected with old friends and deepened relationships with close friends, worked very long hours, relaxed in my parents gorgeous new pool, and </span><a href="http://whiteandyellowmusings.blogspot.com/2014/09/meet-jill.html" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span id="goog_627379990"></span>adopted a cat<span id="goog_627379991"></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. As an introvert who enjoys rhythm and routine, this summer has been stretching, but it's been good. Really, really good. We've been overwhelmed with our community of friends and wouldn't trade the time we've invested in each other's lives for the world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm ready for the calm that I'm hoping and praying September will bring, while remaining so thankful for the community we share. We have some wonderful things planned for this season that I'm really looking forward to. I'm hoping that this fall will be a season of growing in relationships and simplifying and slowing down to focus on what's important. Welcome, Fall!</span>Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-13632664924688397772014-09-02T14:52:00.000-04:002014-09-02T14:52:56.111-04:00Meet Jill<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In the Chou household, we have been hopelessly and embarrassingly losing a battle. In the last year, I think the score is roughly Chous:3 to Mice:1,325,600.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That's a rough estimate, but the pesky rodents just won't leave us alone. We've learned that after catching a few in the same trap, they wise up and avoid that trap and we need to find a different one. We've learned that the second (and third, forth, fifth, and sixth) mouse really does get the cheese and great bait only worsens our problems. We've learned that mice might not like peppermint essential oil and ultrasonic repellents, but they can certainly live with them. We've learned that all three of my dogs can sleep through me screaming as a mouse runs toward my feet. We've learned that mice don't really care if a doberman growls at them. We've learned that we are most definitely the weakest link. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As the only house without cat(s) on our block, we've become a safe haven for these pesky rodents. As much as I'm a huge fan of rescuing animals in need, I've become increasingly frustrated with being the neighborhood mouse refuge. We are admittedly much more "dog people" than "cat people," but we were suddenly eyeing every adoptable cat and warming up to the idea of housing a feline.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then we heard about Jill, an adorable two year old Scottish Fold who found herself in need of a home. After researching the breed and finding that they were great with kids and dogs, my mom and I went to meet her. We were met by the sweetest, friendliest group of cats we had ever encountered, and not only did I end up taking Jill, but my mom fell in love with another cat, and we now both have new kitties.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jill warmed up to E almost immediately, and she's gotten to know the puppies as well. She greeted Titus, our Doberman, with a swat across his nose the first time they got close enough to sniff, and she's been regretting that decision ever since. She's ready for a friend and playmate, but he has yet to forgive and move on. Jill's still working on warming up to her new environment, but we're hopeful that in addition to being a great part of our family, she'll scare away/kill/eat/torture all of our unwanted rodents.</span><br />
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-70847067049465464182014-09-02T14:22:00.001-04:002014-09-02T14:23:57.919-04:00A Week at the Beach<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There's something so refreshing and life-giving about Stone Harbor. The town is quiet, peaceful, and beautiful. Time away from the routine of home and work and toddler tantrums is always so welcome. Despite an unfortunately-timed project for work this year, we managed to enjoy the sand, tidal pools, waves, sun, and delicious restaurants. E enjoyed the undivided attention from aunts, uncles, grandparents, and great-grandparents, and managed to behave herself for the most part despite the inevitable spoiling. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Since E's first exposure to the sun and sand when she was all of six months old, she's been in love with the beach. My wonderful father asked her if she was ready for the beach a full week before we left (thanks, dad!) and every single time I buckled her into her car seat that week, she'd ask, "Beach? Go to beach?!" She was bouncing off the walls all night before we left, and thankfully slept for the entire car ride there. As we pulled up to the beach house, she immediately woke up and excited exclaimed, "beach!!" I'm not sure if she smelled the fresh ocean air or if it was just coincidentally great timing, but it was adorable. She spent her days on the beach with Grandma, Aunt Kristin, and Daddy, playing in the waves and the sand, and her evenings walking into town and enjoying gelato and petting every puppy she could find.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yup, that's the same swimsuit from last year. One of the many advantages of having a petite girl.</span></td></tr>
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-25618590610258239082014-03-03T22:02:00.000-05:002014-03-05T10:31:16.262-05:00A Day in the Life of a Toddler<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I suppose someday I'll look back on these days with fondness and a bit of nostalgia. After all, my little girl is amazingly sweet, and watching her learn & take in the world is both fascinating and fullfilling. However it can also be unbelievably frustrating and infuriating.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here's a look at an ordinary day. This particular day was Sunday, March 2nd. E is 27 months and acts, well, like any other two year old.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>7:30am</b> E woke up when I tried to sneak out of bed. This is a daily occurrence but I still try in hopes of a random success. She ran to say "hi" to daddy before following me downstairs to supervise my coffee drinking.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0r-jqqqjMf5xs73KFgvYjQJMkADIlcmtqg590qZEj2d-jiITBiJ5AqbpYqqEcGDRz65Ai4U-qOMEAzCA_Yr10p7pbJ6zhMaSEQ7-ECYHl-IMQcmm8OtoU8VMyY59LfeGNLLWFm6-00g/s640/2014-03-02%25252007.51.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0r-jqqqjMf5xs73KFgvYjQJMkADIlcmtqg590qZEj2d-jiITBiJ5AqbpYqqEcGDRz65Ai4U-qOMEAzCA_Yr10p7pbJ6zhMaSEQ7-ECYHl-IMQcmm8OtoU8VMyY59LfeGNLLWFm6-00g/s640/2014-03-02%25252007.51.03.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>7:35am</b> E asked for baked oatmeal for breakfast, and sat down to eat it at the dining room table. Handing blueberry baked oatmeal to a toddler is like inviting them on an epic treasure hunt, where they'll dig for gold... err blueberries like their life depends on it. I suppose I could have just offered her a bowl of blueberries, but that wouldn't have kept her entertained for an hour. Yup, an hour. Points for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>8:35am</b> Daddy dresses E while I finished getting ready to leave for church. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>8:45am</b> We're loading into the car headed for church. On time. This is rare and to be celebrated! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>8:55am</b> Daddy checks E in and we each grab a hand to swing her up the stairs to her room. She thinks it's an awesome ride and we reach the top of the staircase while it's still 2014. Everybody wins. She has a huge grin as she sees her friends and leaders, and we breathe a sigh of relief that only a parent of a toddler fully understands. We get to go focus on adult things with no worries about the house being destroyed, the dog being shaved, or the sofa being redone with fresh ink and scissors.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>10:15am</b> Church is over and we get E. She's snacking, happy, and acts like she owns the lobby. E and I wave bye to daddy and our friends, brave the freezing cold weather and head home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>11:45am</b> I warn E that it's almost time to go get daddy. She can finish her Angry Birds cartoon and then we're leaving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>11:47am</b> The cartoon ends and I ask E to put the tablet away. She refuses. Tantrum ensues as I close the tablet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>11:50am</b> I put E on the potty before we leave. After a minute:<br />
Me: Are you all done? <br />
E: No. <br />
Me: Are you still peeing?<br />
E: No.<br />
Me: Do you need to poo? <br />
E: No.<br />
Me: So you're all done. <br />
E: No. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I go with it and we have a nice little conversion as she sits on the potty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>12:05pm</b> <br />
Me: You need to be done. We're leaving. <br />
E: No.<br />
She doesn't complain when I grab her off the potty (I realize she did nothing!) wash her hands, and carry her downstairs. I put on her boots and peacoat, and grab my moccasins. E grabs my cute wedges for me to wear instead. I explain we're just going for a quick car trip and I want to be comfy as I slide my feet into my moccasins. Cue meltdown. I concede as we're already late (I did not plan on a fifteen minute potty break) and I have a really hard time getting E in her carseat when she's angry. I throw on my wedges, and head out to the car.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>12:30pm</b> We return home, daddy in tow. E is sound asleep as daddy carries her inside. He sits on the sofa and after a brief moment daddy and daughter are both passed out. Lovely Sunday afternoon nap for them and precious alone time with no agenda for me!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>3:00pm</b> E is stirring and I make her get up, afraid we've already sabotaged our chance for night time sleep. She hasn't napped in weeks and I'm getting more concerned by the minute. We get her a snack and watch the latest episode of <i>How I Met Your Mother</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>3:45pm</b> As a family we write some long overdue thank you notes. E grabs her crayons and adds her own touch to several cards.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>4:00pm</b> Daddy and E play, and play, and play! It's so great to have him home. They tickle and giggle and build and destroy.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vXO2M_ovc2BNsK_-KusJHIzou6dmeCQ3QHthNIghEozmjG-5qQUuQgXCiiT2t6Rj63tUz-LRFh_JoaFf84GA2DdILPbbSvRLPMb8kwzY2-WTY79QFSU3XsaPBkhF2evlHdPq7YKoOZA/s640/2014-03-03%25252021.48.43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vXO2M_ovc2BNsK_-KusJHIzou6dmeCQ3QHthNIghEozmjG-5qQUuQgXCiiT2t6Rj63tUz-LRFh_JoaFf84GA2DdILPbbSvRLPMb8kwzY2-WTY79QFSU3XsaPBkhF2evlHdPq7YKoOZA/s640/2014-03-03%25252021.48.43.jpg" height="320" width="259" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>6:30pm</b> Daddy throws dinner in the oven and E strips. I assume she's ready for some comfortable pajamas, but no. She's decided it's bath time. I remind her she doesn't need a bath now, but she's persistent so I promise a bath after dinner figuring it will save me some time tomorrow. She complies but refuses to get dressed again. Whatever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>7:00pm</b> Dinner is ready and I pull the meat off the drumstick so E can dip it into her own little bowl of honey mustard. She grabs the bone and gnaws all the remaining bits of meat off, just like daddy. As she sits naked, gnawing on bones, I can't help but laugh. This long bitter cold and ridiculously snowy winter has stolen our sanity and there's clearly no hope of getting it back. Once the bone is clean to her satisfaction, E settles for the meat pieces on her plate and finishes dinner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>8:00pm</b> E plays happily in the tub for quite awhile, eating bubbles, splashing daddy, and tirelessly pouring water from one container to another. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>9:00pm</b> E is clean, dry, and ready for bed. Daddy takes her upstairs for her bedtime routine and tucks her in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>9:30pm</b> I hear crying. I go upstairs as usually this means she needs a potty break. Unfortunately that's not the case tonight. She's <i>not</i> tired. She comes down and snuggles with me for a bit before I try getting her back to bed. I feel her gums for her two year molars, give her a healthy dose of teething oil and teething drops, and sprinkle some lavender essential oil on her pillow. She's still not tired, so we convince her it's time for everyone to sleep. We get ready for bed and snuggle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>10:30pm</b> She's still wide awake, singing to her baby and chatting up a storm. Daddy's snoring away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>11:30pm</b> She's finally settled but not asleep. I fall asleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>4:00am</b> In my sleep I readjust and roll over, away from E, which sends her into a tantrum. Exhausted and frustrated, I yell. Daddy rescues me and brings E into the nursery to rock her. She wants mommy and is furious, but eventually settles. Daddy brings her back to bed under the condition that she can't utter a peep. She begrudgingly abides and we go back to sleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>8:00am</b> I roll my tired self out of bed, trying not to wake E. It doesn't work.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0r-jqqqjMf5xs73KFgvYjQJMkADIlcmtqg590qZEj2d-jiITBiJ5AqbpYqqEcGDRz65Ai4U-qOMEAzCA_Yr10p7pbJ6zhMaSEQ7-ECYHl-IMQcmm8OtoU8VMyY59LfeGNLLWFm6-00g/s1600/2014-03-02%25252007.51.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span> </a> </div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2Flh4.ggpht.com%2F--RsYFG46TKo%2FUxU_N6tjR-I%2FAAAAAAAABV4%2Fq6hm15yEGd4%2Fs640%2F2014-03-02%2525252007.51.03.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0r-jqqqjMf5xs73KFgvYjQJMkADIlcmtqg590qZEj2d-jiITBiJ5AqbpYqqEcGDRz65Ai4U-qOMEAzCA_Yr10p7pbJ6zhMaSEQ7-ECYHl-IMQcmm8OtoU8VMyY59LfeGNLLWFm6-00g/s640/2014-03-02%25252007.51.03.jpg" --><!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2Flh3.ggpht.com%2F-KHm9hpZqz0Y%2FUxU_HMJtw5I%2FAAAAAAAABVw%2FL8dDYQJ9tRI%2Fs640%2F2014-03-03%2525252021.48.43.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vXO2M_ovc2BNsK_-KusJHIzou6dmeCQ3QHthNIghEozmjG-5qQUuQgXCiiT2t6Rj63tUz-LRFh_JoaFf84GA2DdILPbbSvRLPMb8kwzY2-WTY79QFSU3XsaPBkhF2evlHdPq7YKoOZA/s640/2014-03-03%25252021.48.43.jpg" -->Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-75759461166367872432013-12-16T14:19:00.000-05:002013-12-16T14:20:44.809-05:00Sleeping!<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E has ditched her <a href="http://www.whiteandyellowmusings.blogspot.com/2013/07/nineteen-months.html" target="_blank">teddy bears</a> as part of her sleep routine. She no longer needs them to fall asleep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All she's needed for the past two months has been her dog. No, not a cuddly little stuffed dog, but her dog. Barking, crazy, warm, and cuddly Cali has been helping E get to sleep for the past two months. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We kicked Cali off the bed when I was pregnant. She had slept on the bed with Chou from the time he rescued her before we were married, and I never minded her extra warmth although I could do without the hair. We didn't want her to be jealous of E on the bed (although at the time we had no plans for cosleeping) nor did we want her accidentally rolling on the baby, so off she went long before E made her grand appearance. She's been happily lounging on her dog bed on the floor for the past 2+ years. One day this fall she suddenly decided she was allowed back on the bed. I'm really not sure why she bothered after two years, but I do know the only reason she got away with it was because she immediately started snuggling with E and they were too cute to punish.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E's only been napping a few days a week, but for every nap and every night at bed time, this is how she goes to sleep. It's really sweet.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tRxX5byCbPo/Uq9McBjLDJI/AAAAAAAABS0/Prs67oY5FHM/s1600/20131101_112443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tRxX5byCbPo/Uq9McBjLDJI/AAAAAAAABS0/Prs67oY5FHM/s320/20131101_112443.jpg" width="284" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sometimes we're not quite ready for a nap, but still need a snuggle</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5LPbI5VyFUxZ2nSzL9fLEGPZ5dLYZpiPqFprlTDHHdAS_rrx74Fm_bgN2adV8ZHWjCcUpViol4T1H-b6HH0IPGKpnKkRnTwWDbHLZZeLzBuXkuERz0CshsgZU-LqbDIV6Zuji51ethA/s1600/20131115_144647+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5LPbI5VyFUxZ2nSzL9fLEGPZ5dLYZpiPqFprlTDHHdAS_rrx74Fm_bgN2adV8ZHWjCcUpViol4T1H-b6HH0IPGKpnKkRnTwWDbHLZZeLzBuXkuERz0CshsgZU-LqbDIV6Zuji51ethA/s320/20131115_144647+(1).jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6gjRPD-Sbs/Uq9MhM2XnAI/AAAAAAAABTE/QcQccEITL_8/s1600/20131211_145019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6gjRPD-Sbs/Uq9MhM2XnAI/AAAAAAAABTE/QcQccEITL_8/s320/20131211_145019.jpg" width="264" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sometimes we forget we're supposed to be sleeping</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And sometimes, when we're really lucky, Daddy joins us!</span></td></tr>
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-87510807017478103532013-12-09T12:50:00.003-05:002013-12-09T12:50:47.668-05:00At long last<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now that it is a blustery December and we've had our first official snowfall here in Pennsylvania, I decided it was about time I shared the rest of the pictures from our vacation last summer. Procrastination runs in my family, and I consider myself to be a pro. As I sit here dreaming of warm weather and relaxing vacations, I decided it's the perfect time to share pictures from Stone Harbor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One thing I learned when I started dating Chou is that his (and dare I say most men's) idea of a relaxing beach trip is quite different from mine. In my (pre-motherhood) mind, a perfect day at the beach involves a good book, a warm nap in the sun, and maybe a little time spent jumping waves. Chou's ideal beach trip consists of a whole lot of wave jumping, sport playing, sand sculpting, and maybe a very little nap or short reading session while he rehydrates. Chou has been thrilled to welcome our brother-in-law into the family and greatly appreciates someone who enjoys beach sports as much as he does. This past year they raided our rental house for beach activities and found several that occupied them most of the week. Their most notable find was a skim board. My sister and I marveled at their ability to have just as much fun when they completely wiped out as when they landed beautifully. We enjoyed watching from the sidelines and they enjoyed mastering a new skill.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E has loved the beach from her first taste of sand. Luckily for all involved, this year she was no longer interested in trying to consume the entire beach, but instead focused more on playing with her bucket and some water and occasionally dipping her toes in the waves. She'd wake up in the morning, point in the direction of the ocean, and say, "beach!" It was wonderful to see her enjoy the sun and sand as much as we do!</span><br />
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Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-36274578994106998132013-11-13T23:00:00.000-05:002013-11-13T23:00:04.507-05:00Fall Update<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ramblings from the past month, in no particular order:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Bring On Christmas!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This fall has come and gone rather quickly in our home. October was incredibly busy and stressful with the death of my grandmother in the beginning, and spending the rest of the month trying to catch up. I welcomed November wholeheartedly, and decided to get a head start on Christmas. We've slowly started decorating and listening to Christmas music (one month a year is just not enough time to enjoy carols!) and my goal is to do one simple craft with E every week until Christmas. I'm hoping to do a mixture of things for me and for her, but we'll do all of them together. If it goes well, I'll keep it going beyond the holidays.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Cloth Diapers</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While my grandmother was in the hospital, we bought [beastly expensive all natural] disposable diapers for the first time since switching to cloth. E's only using them for night and the occasional nap making cloth a pain right now (I don't like to let dirty diapers sit more than a day or two, but I never have enough for a washing machine load at that point) and we just didn't have the time or desire to fuss with cloth. We're now back to cloth, but I'm really hoping to just train E overnight and ditch the diapers altogether.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>E Update</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">E has been busy as ever! She's still mostly silent be has been letting more and more words slip through her lips unchecked. Her favorite seat in the house is on the dining room table with her feet resting on her chair. She'll sit there and chatter to me, the dogs, or just herself for hours. I should probably put an end to sitting on the table, but for now she's getting away with it because she's cute and I've been trying to encourage any and all things verbal. She's really opinionated on fashion, and I've started giving her choices rather than sending her to choose her own outfits/shoes/accessories. She's recently obsessed with a pair of sandals from the summer that just don't quite cut it on these 30 degree mornings. She's started learning her colors and her shapes, thinks all animals should roar like a lion, enjoys relaxing with a book, and has discovered the magic of the library. The TV still demands her undivided attention, so screen time is very limited in this house. She's often reserved in groups of her peers, not unlike her mama, but loves to observe even when she doesn't participate.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One of E's favorite outfits. She views these two infinity scarves as a set and only wears them together. Her bunny vest is only appropriate for a baby born in the year of the rabbit ;)</span></td></tr>
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-5980543571167731882013-10-16T15:45:00.001-04:002013-10-16T15:45:43.831-04:00Mommom and Poppop<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Growing up, if there was one thing I could count on when visiting my grandparents in New Jersey it was that they would go out of their way to respond to every need, want, and whim for my sisters and me. We felt loved, special, and wanted from the moment we bounded in the door until we walked exhausted back to the van at the end of the visit. Mommom would line her walls and floors with giant rolls of paper, so we could draw and color on literally every surface of her hallway. We'd sleep piled onto an air mattress and giggle long into the night knowing Dad couldn't punish us with Mommom in the house. For breakfast, Poppop made us pancakes larger than our plates and stomachs, and let us load them up with as much butter and syrup as we wanted. We learned to paint and craft around their dining room table, munching on animal crackers and sipping guava juice. There was no place on earth where we felt more loved and wanted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As we grew older, we began to appreciate our grandparents for more than their unconditional spoiling. I loved hearing their stories from life in Brooklyn with both sides of the extended family, their very vocal opinions on pretty much everything, their dramatic story telling, and their friendly banter back on forth. We were often joined by my great aunt and uncle after dinner, and the four of them would have us laughing until tears ran down our faces and our sides ached. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">They loved knowing what was going on in our lives, and continued to give us undivided love and attention. We'd horrify Mommom with our stories of camping and backpacking, telling her of the bugs and lack of hot water. We'd laugh with Poppop about how cold his house always was, and he joked that he revived the flies with the hairdryer every morning after they had frozen overnight. Even in high school and college, we continued our "argument" with Poppop. Every card we sent him had hidden in it, "Poppop is silly" and every card he sent back had hidden, "Poppop is great". I'm honestly not sure how it started, but I think Mommom may have had something to do with it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Everyone was welcome at Mommom and Poppop's house. We'd spend holidays in their kitchen preparing a feast fit for royalty. The dining room table would span the length of two rooms, packed tight with our boisterous family and loaded from one end to the other with our feast. Mommom, who worked in food safety, would cook the turkey until it was done, and then just a few hours more, just to make sure. The cousins all fought for the seat of honor at the head of the table next to Poppop. More often than not, we'd be joined by several friends of my grandparents or aunts and uncles who had no close family of their own. We'd feast over laughter until we could eat no more. Then we'd clear plates and bring out the stuffed artichokes before breaking into the fruit, nuts, and dessert. The evening would die down as Poppop sat at the head of the table, endlessly stirring his coffee and straightening his folded napkin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Five years ago everything changed when Poppop was at work one morning and by that evening he was gone. None of us were prepared for the loss. The large five bedroom house felt big and empty for the first time, and it was so quiet without Poppop walking around, chuckling at his own jokes. Chou and I spent countless weekends packing up the puppies and driving to Jersey to be with Mommom. We laughed, cried, and remembered my amazing Poppop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Slowly Mommom began to move forward. She got her dream dog, a standard poodle, to spoil and pamper, the very thing she did best. She started painting and crafting again, and loved showing us her latest creation. She was incredibly talented and we loved seeing her masterpieces. We started cooking with her and she taught us so many of our favorite family recipes. Mommom was a master supervisor and would sit at the head of the table as she instructed the rest of us. We made gravy (marinara sauce) with meatballs and braciola, pirogi, pignolis, and pizzelles. Cooking with Mommom was always, "a little bit of this, a little bit of that" and rarely included actual measurements, so we'd make it with her on the weekends, and go home and make the same dish several times in a row until we felt confident we had it mastered. Chou took over breakfast duty in Poppop's absence, and Mommom would always say how nice it was to have real eggs instead of her "phony eggs" she normally ate.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We spent hours and hours going through all her treasures and years of memories as she prepared to sell her home. We found bridesmaids' dresses from the weddings of my parents, aunts, and uncles. We found gifts from her wedding and family heirlooms from my great grandparents as well as favors that Mommom had made for my wedding. We sorted so many pictures of so many amazing memories, terrible fashion blunders, and crazy relatives. We found endless crafts, some completed and others just started. Mommom had a kitchen gadget for everything imaginable, a fair share of infomercial products, and an entire bedroom closet packed with pots and pans (in addition to the ones in the kitchen). We found every closet, cabinet, and dresser packed to the brim with years worth of memories... and junk.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'll never forget calling Mommom to tell her I was expecting E. I told her she was going to be a great grandma to which she immediately responded, "I've always been a great grandma." That was Mommom. All I could do was laugh and agree. It was true! However, Great Grandma was a little too old fashioned for Mommom, and E knew her as G.G.Mom. E was every bit as spoiled and loved by her as I was as a kid. Every picture I have of Mommom in the past two years is of her and E. Every time E saw Mommom she heard, "How's the most beautiful girl in the whole world?!" followed shortly by "Who loves you more than I do? No one. No one loves you as much as I do!" Every single time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We lost Mommom this month. There are no words to describe how much we will miss her. Her telling us to make it nice, "because nice matters", pointing with a loose sideways fist because somehow that was more polite, and trying desperately to rein in my awesome aunts as they threw rolls from one end of the table to the other in the middle of a nice holiday meal. I'm so thankful that Mommom was my grandma and for the years we got to spend with her. I'm also upset that E won't remember the woman who loved her the most.</span><br />
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-124772553332597452013-09-29T14:43:00.001-04:002013-09-29T14:44:20.690-04:00New York City<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm a little in love with New York City. I love the hustle and bustle, the ever changing crowds that I could sit and watch for hours on end, the ease of public transportation, endless food options, and the Yankees.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This spring, we snatched Yankees tickets for one of their last home appearances of the year, which landed on a weekday and on my birthday. Up until the week before the game, we had no plans or reservations for the entire trip, knowing that the only important event had been booked for months. We ended up driving to the city and staying in a great little B&B in Brooklyn, walking distance from the Brooklyn Museum and the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. We enjoyed a stroll through the borough and the gardens, although many of the flowers had bloomed and died as the days grew shorter and the nights grew colder.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We decided to head to the game early to watch batting practice and get to see some of the players up close, since our seats for the game were out on the bleachers, far away from everything but the bullpen. We arrived shortly after 5pm when the gates were supposed to be opening, and were met by a crowd of people waiting. Long story short, they didn't open the gates until 6, due to an issue with that<a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/baseball/yankees/bobbleheads-rivera-bobblehead-night-article-1.1466503" target="_blank"> night's giveaway</a>. Needless to say we missed batting practice, and got to our seats in time for E to start an award worthy meltdown. She had been completely content for the 50 minute Subway ride and the hour wait in line, but she was done! We decided to get her some food in hopes of distracting her from her misery, and Chou went off to see what he could find. He returned shortly with an Italian sausage sandwich loaded with peppers and onions. My dear 22 pound, 21 month old daughter ate the whole entire sandwich, bun, peppers, onions, and all, and then continued munching on fries for the rest of the game. I guess that meltdown was merited. Unfortunately, the Yankees lost miserably and we didn't get to see <a href="http://www.whiteandyellowmusings.blogspot.com/2013/04/favorite-things-friday-mo.html" target="_blank">Mariano</a> come in and save the day one last time. However, the Yankees rock and we get a free ticket for a game next year thanks to the bobblehead disaster. I'll take it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The following morning, we enjoyed a hot breakfast at a cute landmark diner in Brooklyn. Breakfast as a family with no rush, no schedule, and no looming to-do list is nearly unheard of in my house, so our little diner breakfast seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and we cherished every moment! We spent the rest of the morning checking out the memorial at Ground Zero, and then headed up to Times Square to have lunch with one of my college roomies.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKyd3JV67s0WrGqgaRVlk-v3irgoDgbIEb5rRTWkGwPXhyphenhyphenFicSwOQejzv48TcVQK68VsF32ZczAYbaoocxAW8sSTfMAVJiPm4BP8kS9ANVlSBC2KzeGjhLmQcLrfFOIAAseIZHXNP9ys/s1600/20130925_125227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKyd3JV67s0WrGqgaRVlk-v3irgoDgbIEb5rRTWkGwPXhyphenhyphenFicSwOQejzv48TcVQK68VsF32ZczAYbaoocxAW8sSTfMAVJiPm4BP8kS9ANVlSBC2KzeGjhLmQcLrfFOIAAseIZHXNP9ys/s320/20130925_125227.jpg" width="240" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnyo1h4d6nIFnzsq-ZqHxmJ_5mZegZpLRbahfLeTS4f_873szgAvLWVvlZx_LsiuPegIp4Qg7bjOYkp2YJzx3MHu8tJLSzWcwxjGT_h7Gf2kFQVSlbYVw7zMpkhityBlHdSwxiMyw_OEU/s1600/20130925_104704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnyo1h4d6nIFnzsq-ZqHxmJ_5mZegZpLRbahfLeTS4f_873szgAvLWVvlZx_LsiuPegIp4Qg7bjOYkp2YJzx3MHu8tJLSzWcwxjGT_h7Gf2kFQVSlbYVw7zMpkhityBlHdSwxiMyw_OEU/s320/20130925_104704.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Z7rln8lj9s/UkhwwXq7RzI/AAAAAAAABL8/n-GgqIjLBDQ/s1600/IMG_20130925_143917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Z7rln8lj9s/UkhwwXq7RzI/AAAAAAAABL8/n-GgqIjLBDQ/s320/IMG_20130925_143917.jpg" width="241" /></span></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DDqn3kaGsG8/UkhwyCpFALI/AAAAAAAABME/J344uVt4hi0/s1600/IMG_20130925_143513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DDqn3kaGsG8/UkhwyCpFALI/AAAAAAAABME/J344uVt4hi0/s320/IMG_20130925_143513.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm now ready to up and move to Brooklyn, but Chou, who just started a new job that he loves, is a little less convinced. I'm sure next year we'll stay a little longer, enjoy a free Yankees game, and I'll let NYC romance Chou.</span><br />
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-24940313441451184732013-08-14T21:12:00.000-04:002013-08-14T21:12:10.679-04:00That time when canning tomatoes resulted in the fire department in our house in the middle of the night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yeah, about that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yesterday we set out to can bunches of tomatoes. It's the time of year when it seems like every spare moment is dedicated to storing away some local, in-season produce to savor during the long winter months. Last Saturday was dedicated to freezing countless peaches, and the next few weekends are busy, so tomatoes landed on a week night this year. E and I spent the better part of yesterday purchasing tomatoes, gathering canning supplies from my parents' home, buying lids, and prepping as best I could. I had the canner filled with hot water and jars washed and ready when Chou arrived home from work later than usual. Chou took one look at the pile of tomatoes and jars, and was convinced we were going to run out of jars. I had extrapolated last years' numbers when gathering jars and was convinced we had just enough with one or two to spare. Regardless, there was plenty more to do to prepare, and we didn't actually get started filling jars until 6:30pm. I really prefer to do large projects on weekends, but it's just not always possible, and a few late nights in the summer prove more than worth it when we're digging into home preserved goodness mid-winter.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiK7TKhBWbT8DAl7Gzbpwag7btLDvqxchmzkEzb377MuPZP4d4jV6gt4VK4_Hb3LdZr7e1k0sFKE-k7u4c8boEnXgD86F_KCpScxwcRb4cZGF6ZWPW3R5uMiZUcUOI5ETPV5OhLTgx1E/s1600/DSC_0541-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiK7TKhBWbT8DAl7Gzbpwag7btLDvqxchmzkEzb377MuPZP4d4jV6gt4VK4_Hb3LdZr7e1k0sFKE-k7u4c8boEnXgD86F_KCpScxwcRb4cZGF6ZWPW3R5uMiZUcUOI5ETPV5OhLTgx1E/s320/DSC_0541-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chou getting into a rhythm</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Despite the late start, we made steady progress. E was content to sit and watch us for quite awhile, snacking on a tomato or two as she observed. When she got bored with the canning, she sat and read some books to herself while still on her seat in the kitchen. I had to stop and laugh and cringe at the disaster that was our house in the midst of it all, and commented to Chou that it would take a solid twenty-four hours of cleaning to get the house back in order. The contents of our counters were on the washer, dryer, and dining room table to make room for us to work, and boxes of tomatoes and jars made walking throughout the kitchen challenging. Add to that the tomato juice and general splatter than always occurs when canning, and it was a mess. I was in pajamas, and was the most presentable of the three of us. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">E helping out</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Several hours in, E moved on and was playing by herself in the living room. I noticed it was too quiet and went to check on her but got distracted. When I got around to peeking into the living room, she was sprinkling dried oregano on herself and the dogs and had already emptied half a bulk container. I mentally added vacuuming to the cleaning list.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">E helping herself</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Eventually it was time for E to go to bed, so at a nice lull in the canning I gathered her up and headed to bed. She snuggled in with a book, and Chou and I continued on with the tomatoes. We had a running bet all night on whether we'd run out of jars or tomatoes first so we were anxious to finish. We got down to the last little pile of tomatoes and four remaining jars, both still convinced we were right. It was 11:30 and I was more than ready for bed. As Chou was filling the last of the jars, an alarm went off in our house. We found the carbon monoxide alarm that was beeping and flipped it over to see the alarm as we reached to pull the batteries out. Rather than the "replace batteries" light we were expecting to be lit, it was the "carbon monoxide detected, move to fresh air" light flashing as the alarm continued to beep. Instead of heading to our warm beds, I ran up and grabbed E and some clothes while Chou turned off the canner that was still boiling away with tomatoes. We opened a few windows, took the dogs and E out to the car, and called the cops. Within minutes the fire department showed up, lights flashing and blocking our entire street, in full get-up. So glad the entire neighborhood could share in our excitement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was really hoping for a false alarm, even though I would have felt terrible for calling everyone out so late at night, but the fire department's detectors went off before they even got inside our house. They found slightly elevated concentrations throughout the entire house, but couldn't pinpoint a source, so they called the gas company. I sat in the car mortified at the number of people in my disaster-of-a-house while Chou and E got to know our wonderful firemen quite well in the forty minutes it took for the gas company to show up. Most of our neighbors made sure we were fine, and one of them even came and wrapped a blanket around E, because they thought she looked cold. A few of our neighbors popped popcorn. Well, maybe not, but they may as well have. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">By the time the gas company showed up, the levels in the house were back down to zero. They concluded our constant use of the stove for the past five hours had caused the build up and we were good to go, but they suggested keeping the windows open all night and getting out immediately should the alarm sound again (so not comforting.) The fire department also did not approve of our placement of smoke detectors, so they'll be back in the next few weeks to install them where they want them. I guess it's better safe than sorry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was after 1am when we were able to come back inside, and we still had several batches of jars to go into the canner. We finally got to stuff </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">the last of the tomatoes into jars, with one and a half jars to spare (point for me!) All three of us were wide awake at that point, so it was well after two o'clock when we finally headed to bed. Needless to say we did not wake up to run this morning. There's always tomorrow for that.</span></div>
Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8966704232700192339.post-17161808512803941982013-08-06T15:19:00.003-04:002013-08-10T10:43:24.952-04:00Stone Harbor Tidal Pools <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">[The post with way too many pictures. You've been warned.]</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last week was my family's annual vacation in Stone Harbor. This year everyone (my parents, sisters with their husbands/families, and my mom's parents) was able to make it, making the time away so fun! My grandparents spent their summers in the area when they were growing up, and my mom visited as a girl. We love this small town with its open beaches, nature preserves, beautiful mansions, and amazing food.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Each year a few of us try to take a day to walk down to the end of the island. As the tide goes out, it leaves tidal pools full of warm water and wildlife. E enjoyed wading in the pools with fish swimming around her and hermit crabs scurrying along nearby.</span><br />
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<br />Megan Chouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11508561652630425507noreply@blogger.com0