tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7707370012186475772024-03-14T01:56:57.840-07:00The Zollingers Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.comBlogger141125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-21739442864838974592022-11-06T10:37:00.001-08:002022-11-06T10:52:08.886-08:00What We Do Right Now Matters <span id="docs-internal-guid-be8c20be-7fff-56e8-4fd2-6903f35b0a1b"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Earlier this summer, I went to a little meet and greet for Independent Evan McMullin. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful for our political future, and I wanted to get involved. I believe in working hard for what's right, and that night I couldn't get that feeling out of my bones. So I sat down and wrote this, and I'm sharing it here. I've always been interested in politics, but this year is the first time I've been actively involved in a campaign, even in just very tiny ways. But when honesty and integrity are on the line, what we do matters. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am the mother of three unruly children. They are three tiny summer-bronzed tornadoes, and because of them I spend the majority of my days sweeping cereal off the kitchen floor and making dinners that no one will eat. But they are my hopes and dreams tied up in little human packages and I would do anything for them. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFwP7QX3uK71lHA_lrDGo0HAuwH_CoGO617Yx0TK5dsCClktUrpaiw1o1SIiv1I1gWnFUWO3h_oc5k2e1-g0LeLcNEbAjn16fRot1-LBm8Qr_ZURuQ1squuR_cnXOPmraFul6uNuswoLJDVAltvo9p1BFGeAfm4A6OrPTGOTx7NlYUY88ohWyxurZ/s4032/IMG-1288.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFwP7QX3uK71lHA_lrDGo0HAuwH_CoGO617Yx0TK5dsCClktUrpaiw1o1SIiv1I1gWnFUWO3h_oc5k2e1-g0LeLcNEbAjn16fRot1-LBm8Qr_ZURuQ1squuR_cnXOPmraFul6uNuswoLJDVAltvo9p1BFGeAfm4A6OrPTGOTx7NlYUY88ohWyxurZ/s320/IMG-1288.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Feeding them and keeping them relatively tidy might feel like it takes up all my time, but I know that in the grand scheme of things, the most important task I can perform for my kids is to teach them to be good. If they can value and fight for what's good I know they will have the ability to find confidence and contentment no matter what comes their way. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is how moms think. This is what we do. So taking my civic responsibilities seriously isn't just a fun little hobby. It's a way I can be an example for my children--and that's the most important thing there is. And in this moment, one of the best ways I can show them how to do good is by talking frankly about my support for Evan McMullin in his Senate bid opposing Mike Lee. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was raised in a conservative home where we valued patriotism and the sanctity of personal freedom. I was taught to love my country, and this is a heritage for which I'll always be grateful. The foundation of these principles is, of course, respect for the rule of law and respect for the voice of the people as expressed through elections. Like so many others, I was greatly angered to learn that a Senator from Utah worked so hard to help Trump justify overturning the results of a free and fair election. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You shouldn't be able to cheat and get away with it. You shouldn't be able to demonstrate such disrespect for the people you serve and not stand rebuked. We know this. It's not complicated. These are the truths I teach my children everyday. Be honest. Be good. Be willing to understand where other people are coming from. These are the real ways to solve problems. These are the real ways to move forward with purpose and contentment. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In that vein, I find the moderate approaches that Evan McMullin thoughtfully espouses to be extremely refreshing. Somehow in the last few years, it seems that many Americans have come to value extremism over actual problem-solving. But why should it be more important to be the most extreme person in the room over being the most clear-eyed person in the room, or the most compassionate person in the room? It shouldn't be. McMullin's reasonable and moderate approaches to complex problems are a necessity in today's ultra-partisan political landscape and a breath of fresh air to down-to-earth moms like me. I'm saddened by our toxic divisions. Blind, pessimistic party loyalty should not be more important than simply telling the truth and working together to get things done. This isn't the legacy I want to leave my children. We can do better than this. We have to do better. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So what we do right now matters. Who we vote for matters, and I intend to vote for someone principled. I intend to vote for someone who can be effective because they are trying to do good. For my children, I intend to try my best to do what's good myself. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I'm a mom. It's what we do.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-50559527541389487992021-10-14T15:03:00.002-07:002021-10-14T15:03:32.081-07:00Tessa's Birth Story <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-h3r19OdI3HIvePjpqmalJzUvG3lw949fFeiy_0DdbVHVHXzyJl_8IIgbO2ugCKktd12iqg9TY54J1vtWK6a9Dr_D7Af5JLZILsKYqODsW2jU3qFgvUaGVqfa5FN9CLj_8zgBHRFj6qs/s2048/9B167AAD-2C82-4C37-A6AD-352EA2E116C9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-h3r19OdI3HIvePjpqmalJzUvG3lw949fFeiy_0DdbVHVHXzyJl_8IIgbO2ugCKktd12iqg9TY54J1vtWK6a9Dr_D7Af5JLZILsKYqODsW2jU3qFgvUaGVqfa5FN9CLj_8zgBHRFj6qs/s320/9B167AAD-2C82-4C37-A6AD-352EA2E116C9.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />The Friday before Tessa was born, I had an appointment with an ultrasound. She was so low they were like "yeah...we can't see her face. Too deep in there. Also your baby is huge." This is the same thing I heard at the end of my pregnancy with Brynn and pretty much the whole time with Tessa, too. My girl babies always measure so much ahead they make me take extra gestational diabetes tests. I ALWAYS PASS THEM. Anyway, they estimated Tessa was already 8.5 pounds (spoiler alert: she wasn't). But my doctor said I was already dilated to a 4 and we would just induce labor a week early if she wasn't here yet. I'm pretty sure what he said was "No point in having a 9.5 pound baby" (spoiler alert: we didn't). <p></p><p>The irony here is incredible. The concept of going your entire pregnancy just praying your baby won't be crazy early and then having to be induced was really making Greg and I laugh. You know, like angry/crying/laughing. But the other thing my doctor said was "Yeah...you won't make it one more week." </p><p>And I knew he was right. Monday morning I woke up thinking, "This is the day." I was crazy hormonal. All sorts of "my body is getting ready to eject this baby" things were happening. I was pretty much continuously feeling pressure because of how low she was, and I'm not even joking here. It was almost-ready-to-push kind of pressure. She was so so so low...but no contractions. Maybe they will start this afternoon....maybe they will start tonight...</p><p>But they just didn't start. I was a little over 38 weeks but I knew I wasn't going to go much longer and I was DONE. Around this time I started saying things to Greg like "Can you imagine some people are pregnant for TWO MORE WEEKS???" I had never gone longer than 37 weeks and while it would be really cool to have a full term baby, I knew we had reached the point where she would be able to coordinate sucking and swallowing and I knew it was really, really close. So I was done. </p><p>But no contractions. </p><p>So Monday night I went to bed. Tuesday I went to Wal-mart for some strange reason and I have memories of waddling around in a grumpy hormonal pregnant haze. And that whole day I knew contractions would start...but they didn't. </p><p>Until bed time for the kids. I sat down to read books and was all cringy and Greg was like "Are you sure nothing's happening?" I was in pain, but I had been in weird pain for days. And I thought yeah...maybe this is different. </p><p>Time to take a little break here and explain some things. So much about having children has been out of my control. Probably a lot of people feel that way but for different reasons. For us, having kids has become so medicalized because of IVF. And I'm so grateful for IVF and so grateful we have had amazing outcomes with this technology. But it isn't how I would have planned it, obviously. PPROM (water breaking extra early) has also made me feel wildly out of control. There is just always this possibility of tragedy occurring, and that haunts me. There's no other word for it. PPROM has absolutely robbed me of my peace, and I've fought tooth and nail to reclaim some sense of groundedness and optimism for my pregnancies. It's cliche, but words can't express how full my heart is of gratitude that Tessa is safe and that she was born close to term. We did not have to say goodbye to another baby. The blessing that she is here and she is sleeping upstairs at this very moment is so monumental I don't know how to contain it. When we lost Austin and Daniel to PPROM, the magnitude of the loss was so gaping I just couldn't comprehend it. I had to think in terms of what I had gained instead of what I had lost. And now we focus on what we have gained as well, and it's so exquisite and just so large I can't comprehend it, either. </p><p>But that doesn't mean I've ever felt in control, and I wanted to feel in control of this delivery. I had the sneaking suspicion that my labor would go fast this time. I started feeling that way well before my due date approached. Call it Mother's Intuition if you would like. I believe this was a simple tender mercy from God. I wanted to try this delivery natural, so it could feel in my control and so not every tiny little thing had to be way over-medicalized. I know that probably sounds crazy to some people, and I get that. But I like doing hard things and pushing myself, and I wanted to experience a natural childbirth. And if the birth was going to go fast, I thought, yeah. I can hack this.</p><p>It's not necessarily in my personality to do things like this. I feel like growing up I believed that hard = bad. That's simply not true. Hard isn't bad. It's just hard. I also don't like to try something when the possibility of failing is real. What can I say, I'm a raging perfectionist. Maybe it's because academics were always so doable for me. I'm not sure, but I HATE going out on a limb when something might not work out the way I want it to. Again, my natural desire is to want to be IN CONTROL OF EVERYTHING. And so a natural childbirth absolutely challenged all of my control issues. It was one thing I could decide to do, but I knew I couldn't absolutely decide how it would turn out. There was a chance I wouldn't be able to do it. Was I going to commit to trying natural anyway? </p><p>And I decided, yes. I would try. I would acknowledge I might fail, and that would be okay. I don't know if any of this makes sense, but I do know that God bolstered my self-confidence the whole time I was pregnant. I just knew that it would be worth trying, and I'm grateful I had that sense of hope while I was pregnant. In a way, that little insight also helped me know she would make it, and would be okay, and that was a huge deal too. Fertility stuff has been such a challenge in my life, but I do feel like I've gotten these little insights along the way that reassure me that Heavenly Father cares. </p><p>So, while I was pregnant, I did a little research. Listened to some hypnobabies. Did some meditation and tried not to feel like a dork while doing it. I'll always have good memories of nodding off to sleep to the impossibly soothing voice of a British midwife while waiting for Brynn to get out of ballet. I prepared, and it felt good. </p><p>So we put the kids to bed, and went downstairs to collapse on the couch. I wasn't totally sure I could actually feel real contractions, but I downloaded the little contraction timing app on my phone anyway and started timing them sort of blindly while we watched Alone. Now I will always think of some Alaskan guy killing a musk ox when I remember Tessa's birth. If you don't know what that means don't even worry about it. </p><p>And the contractions increased. They got more discernible. They were totally manageable and not consistent. But finally I knew we were actually getting somewhere. </p><p>So we headed upstairs around 10, and I decided to get in the shower because contractions were starting to pick up. They were getting CLOSE to being five minutes apart, but I was determined to stay home as long as possible. Greg wasn't a huge fan of this idea, but like the sweet and supportive husband he is, he let me do my thing. He just sat around being quietly terrified and stressed. When I told him I wanted to stay home as long as I could a few weeks before Tess was born, he was like "Please don't have a baby on the living room floor." You laugh...but we actually do have friends who had a baby in their playroom. </p><p>So while I was standing in the hot water I quit timing contractions. I thought a lot about some advice I heard while preparing to go natural. Contractions come from my own body. My body can't create something that I cannot handle. Yeah, yeah, it sounds a little hokey as I type it out. But it's a good philosophy for life, right? We can handle more than we think we can. We really can handle anything.</p><p>After 45 minutes or so in the shower I realized that the contractions were strong. And very close. This sounds weird, but I was so wrapped up in what was internally going on that I wasn't totally capable of thinking clearly about what was going on. So I got out of the shower and Greg was like "Uh...maybe we should go in?" I started getting ready and then started crying because I wanted to stay home longer. Folks, I swear I have hospital PTSD after Callum's birth and six week NICU stay. But I was in such an intense labor by this point that Greg had to help me put my shoes on. Not because I couldn't reach them...just because I was incapable of putting on shoes at that point. So I guess that's when we knew it was time to go in. </p><p>Good thing the drive to the hospital was a whooping 7 minutes. I could not having handled it being any longer. I did the whole straighten my spine in the seat and tried not to scream. Greg pulled up to the front of the hospital to drop me off so I didn't have to walk up and I was like "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I CAN'T STAND THERE ALL ALONE." Labor makes you weird. So Greg parked and I walked through the parking lot like an idiot. Oh well. </p><p>We got to labor and they asked me questions and I had to point to Greg to answer them because I was not capable of coherent speech at this point. I went into the triage room and for some reason that's kind of when I lost it. The concept of laying flat on my back so they could check me just seemed like torture. I think I actually said "You want me to lay down right now?" Really laying on your back is totally the worst way to labor. The sweet little nurse did her thing and was "Uh, yeah, um, you're at an 8. Let's go!" So I walked over to another room and THINGS. STARTED. HAPPENING. </p><p>For a good part of labor I just kept my eyes closed. I don't know, it helped me focus? It was too much energy to keep my eyes open? So I have very few visual memories of what was going on at this point. I remember hearing the original nurse tell everyone I was actually probably at a 9 already, not an 8. A nurse tried to put me in some position to help with the pain and I was like, UH, NO. They blew out my vein and had to do the IV twice and I whined about that and let them know I didn't appreciate it. Respiratory therapists and other random people swarmed the room. I was like "I FEEL PRESSURE. I WANT TO PUSH." The joke was I had been "feeling pressure" for literally 3 or 4 days at that point. I might have been a little crazy at the time, but I wasn't so out of it that I wasn't capable of pulling a con job on these people. </p><p>One nurse told me I didn't have time to get pain relief, but another nurse looked at me and said "If you want to, this is your chance. We can do an epidural right now." </p><p>I said no. I was so close, and I was in it to win it. I'm really proud of myself for that. I'm glad that even though things have felt so out of my control for so many years, I was able to have that moment of power. </p><p>They told me my OB was five minutes away at one point, and even though there was someone down there getting ready to catch the baby, I will always remember my amazing OB full on sprinting into the room. I wonder how long he had been running at that point? I still think this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I know it's his job, but I'm glad he put all that effort into being there for me. At my last appointment he was like "Don't go into labor tonight. I have a Scout thing." After the stressful pregnancy I think maybe he wanted to be there for me and not just pass me off to some random doctor. Again, it felt nice. </p><p>So then, I pushed. Actually, for two full contractions I just sat there and screamed. I screamed so much my voice was dead the next day. I think if I hadn't been surrounded by support I might have just lay there screaming until I died. I have heard that pushing feels like a relief after transition, but for me it was the hardest part. The desire to just scream and scream from the pain never went away. At one point a nurse said, "You have to do this, Heather. No one can do it for you. You are the only one who can get this baby here." I wanted to tell her to SHUT UP at the time, but what she said did resonate with me. Yes, I wanted to scream and scream, but I had to choose not to and reach deep deep deep to find the ability to focus on getting my baby here instead. Again, there's so much power in that. </p><p>They actually had to break my water at the last minute because it hadn't broken yet. A nurse said "You have an iron bag of water!" Again, THE IRONY. There's some evidence that PPROM is actually caused by genes that both you and your baby carry. So I guess it was never going to be a problem with Tessa, but there's no way we could have known that. </p><p>When my water broke, there was meconium in the fluid. That scared me, because I knew she needed to be born soon. They also were having trouble getting the monitor on her, probably because I was swatting them away like a crazy person. I just could not stand to have anyone touch me. But in a hazy weird way, multiple thoughts were running through my head. I had to hurry. I had to get her born because I had a weird sense that she wasn't okay. What if I couldn't do it? There was a moment in there when I thought, I can't do it. I said it aloud a time or two, but I knew there wasn't a choice. I HAD to do it. So instead I started saying, I can do this. I can do this. It's the same thing I have Brynn repeat when she's afraid of something, and I said it over and over. </p><p>And I hung on to Greg and pushed. I put all that screamy energy and fear for Tessa into pushing. Greg started crying at one point and I chewed him out because I thought he was laughing? I hit Greg a time or two. I hit a nurse a time or two. But I closed my eyes and the sweat just ran off of me and I pushed and pushed and pushed.</p><p>Originally my doctor said a lip of cervix was hanging over, but I could tell I was progressing at getting the baby here. She was getting closer. Finally they could see her. I kept asking how close we were, and the OB kept saying just a few more contractions. "She has a ton of hair!" he said at one point. Little did he know that Tessa is the Queen of baby hair. I thought at the time that he was just being nice, but hearing that gave me a little dose of energy that I really needed. She was so so close. </p><p>Then it was over. Her head was born, and the doctor acted fast because not only was there meconium in the fluid but the cord was wrapped around her neck. Greg later said that the OB whipped that thing off so fast it was incredible. Then she was out, and the relief of pressure and burst of fluid was INCREDIBLE. She was naked and slippery and on my stomach and I had done it. She was born 50 minutes after we got to the hospital. </p><p>"You could write the textbook on natural childbirth! Such control!" Okay, I know I sound really braggy, but I am proud of myself. I'm grateful that God let me have this small win. I needed it. With Cal I needed to have a c section. With Brynn my cervix had grown around the cerclage they placed to keep her in, so I needed an epidural so they could remove the stitch. I'm not good at getting pregnant. I'm not good at staying pregnant. But I am pretty good at labor, and that's really the only thing I can sort of control, anyway. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqcY7IsFpIdnjtvSIMD4OdoDqxjCNgRSmWo0DQbcvpCH4-aqkm7tog88adgl062PIY-3ZsXGt7Djs-h5TSgztxHFANTJARfpEhk_iGeCyjOjIeMBsU5DtdzcoTHLNve9zcqI8HIrlNwQ/s2048/3BD2E0D4-519B-4DBE-87E4-1C16D7812860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqcY7IsFpIdnjtvSIMD4OdoDqxjCNgRSmWo0DQbcvpCH4-aqkm7tog88adgl062PIY-3ZsXGt7Djs-h5TSgztxHFANTJARfpEhk_iGeCyjOjIeMBsU5DtdzcoTHLNve9zcqI8HIrlNwQ/s320/3BD2E0D4-519B-4DBE-87E4-1C16D7812860.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Tess did not do very well after she was born. Her blood gasses were low. Her Apgar was low. She didn't cry and wasn't very responsive. She had tons of signs of stress, and stork bite welts on her eyes and the back of her head. They told me later that sometimes babies get those from being wedged way down in the pelvis for a long period of time. I hardly got to hold her before she was sent to the special high need nursery and then the NICU. She didn't come home for 11 days, and that was really, really hard. I couldn't breastfeed her right away. After Callum's NICU saga, it felt like a slap in the face for things to go the way they did. I expected to be able to bring her home right away. </p><p>Postpartum Heather was a huge mess for a few weeks. A HUGE PSYCHOTIC MESS. I think I forgot for a long time how good it felt to do the labor on my terms. While I was in the NICU with Tessa one day, a random respiratory therapist brought up the labor. She turned to me and said, "You did SUCH a good job." At first, I was embarrassed. Oh, you saw that? Remember, I screamed for a bit. </p><p>But I think that's what I want to remember about Tessa's birth. I did a good job, and it feels nice. Like another OB said to me, "Well, that's one way to do a VBAC. Just walk in and drop a baby." </p><p>And, yeah. I did that. You have to celebrate your victories when you can. You have to know what things you can control. You have to be willing to be happy even when you can't control everything. You have to walk a middle ground and find a way to get through to the other side. Tessa's birth was hard because she wasn't totally healthy. And all my labors have been so different from each other. When Austin and Daniel were born, I was battling an intense uterine infection and I was devastated at how I knew I wouldn't get to keep them. They were born with IV narcotics only, but they were so little and tiny. And then I did the epidural thing and the c section thing. </p><p>And now I've done the natural thing. I've done it all. I'm proud of myself. And we got a sweet baby, and she's healthy now, and how can I ever express all the gratitude in my heart. </p><p>If you're still here, you are amazing. Or just addicted to reading birth stories, as we all are at times. Thanks for sticking with me, folks. Here's Tess today: </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidnyH8aBftZqv7cH3FrRHUlkpYqaLhwZm55aSrmwAYSqMAQ-ESTJkXQR516iaBCV6x4WATMoC6uCVHL1F5XmC1r56sOfJ41-wESTMv5qxg_2UOW815sXMiufukK7F8Z7P69q7qYk50kg8/s2048/IMG-6012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidnyH8aBftZqv7cH3FrRHUlkpYqaLhwZm55aSrmwAYSqMAQ-ESTJkXQR516iaBCV6x4WATMoC6uCVHL1F5XmC1r56sOfJ41-wESTMv5qxg_2UOW815sXMiufukK7F8Z7P69q7qYk50kg8/s320/IMG-6012.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She was so worth it. </div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-87325632854630086512020-11-25T19:11:00.001-08:002020-11-25T19:11:17.655-08:00Gratitude Post 5 <p>Today, I'm grateful for Christ, and I'm grateful that as I go through hard things, my relationship with Him can be strengthened. </p><p>Do you ever have time periods in life when you are painfully aware of just how insufficient you are? I am going through one of those times right now. But, it's okay. I know I have a Savior who loves me no matter what. </p><p>Thinking about gratitude these last few days has made me consider some blessings in a new light. One of those blessings is my body. During my struggles with infertility and PPROM (leading to child loss and prematurity), I was never angry about my body's shortcomings. Not really. But I was angry with God, because I had absolute faith that He could grant the blessings I wanted. </p><p>But He didn't, at least not right away. While I wouldn't wish the pain of those experiences on anyone, I also don't think I would change anything, and I don't say that lightly. I'm grateful for a God who lets us grow. Who forgives us when we try to be obedient and humble and loving, even when we don't totally get it right. I'm grateful to be loved unconditionally no matter how bad my attitude and how sassy I feel and how unfair I think everything is. I'm learning and growing, and I'm grateful to go through that process with Deity on my side. This is a God who wipes our tears and cries along with us. This is a God who knows that lasting happiness doesn't mean that everything will be perfect all the time. </p><p>Again, I'm grateful for a God who lets us grow, and who never leaves us while we are doing it. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR23O5WP1N76mnlSpBuw8ckrO6Ds82UlW0rzVyLqI3gnTO2g1dKkO1pEdqf5KVwVO3jXxriDYnqDsuUKjdM6wSV4NtwnR4UxTWP2eC0RAwDdNwY5atYY-UCrtMpu-gDFQ26plJFXwVm-c/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR23O5WP1N76mnlSpBuw8ckrO6Ds82UlW0rzVyLqI3gnTO2g1dKkO1pEdqf5KVwVO3jXxriDYnqDsuUKjdM6wSV4NtwnR4UxTWP2eC0RAwDdNwY5atYY-UCrtMpu-gDFQ26plJFXwVm-c/" width="179" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-53964238955017248562020-11-24T19:22:00.002-08:002020-11-24T19:33:58.661-08:00Gratitude Post 4 <p>About 4 or 5 years ago, I made a commitment to myself to read more. I love reading. Always have. But with a new baby and no pressing need to read more than was required for my Master's Degree, I had stopped reading very much for pleasure. </p><p>I'm so glad I changed that. Now every year I keep track of all the books I read, and while this might be slightly obsessive, I absolutely love it. The last few years have led me to a very important conclusion: curiosity is the real intelligence. </p><p>I'm grateful for books, because they teach me about my own ignorance. They help me have a little humility. They also get me excited about all the great people and places out there and what a wonderful big world it really is. That might sound cheesy, but it's true. Sometimes my convictions are strengthened when I read viewpoints that are different than mine, and sometimes I change my mind when I believe I've found better information. Indulging my curiosity is a great pleasure, and I'm glad to know that I don't have to be in school to always be learning and progressing. </p><p>So, here's some of my favorite books I've read this year, just in case anyone is interested: </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1m1W7paBT5J9XPYqc6ztQ4mh2Jg3BbKoRe1lNwO3xV5FtjwLZ6LkjWmSX8P-D3Ga2NTr0e4iYFoWgObCUAdccbXUHBOzMZtHQo9oxEDO7drne6n0nRapIGu4l8MnNkaN9S6rmLR1erA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1m1W7paBT5J9XPYqc6ztQ4mh2Jg3BbKoRe1lNwO3xV5FtjwLZ6LkjWmSX8P-D3Ga2NTr0e4iYFoWgObCUAdccbXUHBOzMZtHQo9oxEDO7drne6n0nRapIGu4l8MnNkaN9S6rmLR1erA/" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAIrHpAHESACczRakBlUSLLaEUWySbBdp_8bN9Gh4qd1p1MgqRMpzGn_am60HembSbIupTdP1yzbSTXXRe_QA0ol4xg5TO5Ppb7siVbUDiSQxiB3hE3oJDtyLIw-33Snz-oPG58Si1Z4/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAIrHpAHESACczRakBlUSLLaEUWySbBdp_8bN9Gh4qd1p1MgqRMpzGn_am60HembSbIupTdP1yzbSTXXRe_QA0ol4xg5TO5Ppb7siVbUDiSQxiB3hE3oJDtyLIw-33Snz-oPG58Si1Z4/" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Lca8kbudvcGOHlogAhLBo4DprwTykmGY136RCxUEhV1tmFpCNW5fzlm_R7S6iK550WKwlaT2cbUayI1vzZVC7GUCkAlDw2-plJpgNxS98s0PQqdlvFduURIzAYtHjfsZ_l2RGoj7sqg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="405" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Lca8kbudvcGOHlogAhLBo4DprwTykmGY136RCxUEhV1tmFpCNW5fzlm_R7S6iK550WKwlaT2cbUayI1vzZVC7GUCkAlDw2-plJpgNxS98s0PQqdlvFduURIzAYtHjfsZ_l2RGoj7sqg/" width="162" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WgaVIfr8VK2IADp85EkBhBetHXgv53qPiuvMsqQfCKucdlgtUsvukUwt1wks1MweYg1dtMyciyNLoVCFGYNGUih33WyS3ybBy3N7trrU0wXH9OuropYtTz13rbj_ziyYNW3i64Cdv50/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="336" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WgaVIfr8VK2IADp85EkBhBetHXgv53qPiuvMsqQfCKucdlgtUsvukUwt1wks1MweYg1dtMyciyNLoVCFGYNGUih33WyS3ybBy3N7trrU0wXH9OuropYtTz13rbj_ziyYNW3i64Cdv50/" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13wAIIOLOWDyPE2hrkUl0PvcwTj5Hqy0IaFy1nmNeuuW_mwDpiH0hv6RmgvTeiu1Xc_ny2isUt8N1LZDzNpiz0kOKsUu9QZcwsWesCbLAjV1jPg40s5SZE0H7Gn0YbQGGCG6Rhwjh1jI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13wAIIOLOWDyPE2hrkUl0PvcwTj5Hqy0IaFy1nmNeuuW_mwDpiH0hv6RmgvTeiu1Xc_ny2isUt8N1LZDzNpiz0kOKsUu9QZcwsWesCbLAjV1jPg40s5SZE0H7Gn0YbQGGCG6Rhwjh1jI/" width="160" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And this one, which I haven't finished yet but which is excellent so far: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHT34_E-6jUlORzMaUwWS-o5NahT33WbLGsfCaVB3UNQTskAyeLElVjxyYi2DTcF_iLGN7qY9ct7XLQh2fDfgYr0-H3Be3sgx3oc-OdUUWm35tTrisHiKuDIubJG67sK2X15WJ-Hu0yE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHT34_E-6jUlORzMaUwWS-o5NahT33WbLGsfCaVB3UNQTskAyeLElVjxyYi2DTcF_iLGN7qY9ct7XLQh2fDfgYr0-H3Be3sgx3oc-OdUUWm35tTrisHiKuDIubJG67sK2X15WJ-Hu0yE/" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-45904371996907548102020-11-23T18:55:00.001-08:002020-11-23T18:55:23.623-08:00Gratitude Post 3 <p> I am grateful for Greg. </p><p>Without Greg, I probably wouldn't know I like hiking so much. I might not have a Master's Degree. I doubt I would have had so many wonderful adventures on the East Coast. Who would I share books with? And who would be a better dad to our kids? </p><p>We were married very young, and we grew up together. I wouldn't change that for anything. Love you babe. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwqNSYeRujIpHIBslxszPjXbP75QiMCkk7oAqWOcFsWEA8IJKfQFSA14TY0AZH1qnu3jmM28Z1GfNSV0P8fyF8upQ9LqUbq5sKwqdYd-TmAfX7X1huFXQ8oHcLevYPQwhoQ8N5NqKicQ/s4032/IMG_1974.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwqNSYeRujIpHIBslxszPjXbP75QiMCkk7oAqWOcFsWEA8IJKfQFSA14TY0AZH1qnu3jmM28Z1GfNSV0P8fyF8upQ9LqUbq5sKwqdYd-TmAfX7X1huFXQ8oHcLevYPQwhoQ8N5NqKicQ/s320/IMG_1974.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-7aOWkdxVTgg_1z9qFNAuS5khm0udVQ6-yrA7y57UL-J5oLysPesSDfSLZ8BRZdoAWGjJkLhNEx-rOiNLYj__0F5aDUrp977dd-VkLGeb4ReDChqHrPRcLrcUVIFxvKwL27XNrN_osw/s4032/IMG_2221.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-7aOWkdxVTgg_1z9qFNAuS5khm0udVQ6-yrA7y57UL-J5oLysPesSDfSLZ8BRZdoAWGjJkLhNEx-rOiNLYj__0F5aDUrp977dd-VkLGeb4ReDChqHrPRcLrcUVIFxvKwL27XNrN_osw/s320/IMG_2221.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUa5nuCDAOJoxaMPm6ZiWziaeaYFkwS_DKk3Qna4bQYl2KFU63DghO32g7WHe6G3syen8S2VaC3XYyF2kU5RlIKKKQoPRuqGsBQ8gUXGQRzWwkHvBoCGbuAaLxnSgttW8bt0ATzySz4Ks/s3088/IMG_2543.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUa5nuCDAOJoxaMPm6ZiWziaeaYFkwS_DKk3Qna4bQYl2KFU63DghO32g7WHe6G3syen8S2VaC3XYyF2kU5RlIKKKQoPRuqGsBQ8gUXGQRzWwkHvBoCGbuAaLxnSgttW8bt0ATzySz4Ks/s320/IMG_2543.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9-JaHPMiIW7fdQX-BW4q2jEnuSkHpOFp1U1RRbcMuHOKNDAFT5wZwD2KRI-5NQ65YkJcel8yN5pJqai_YWmGDDtyFj12fmOJamtW9u4TlkzFyD0SA-du508KTOP8cCZ5iWJ4_D_lKJA/s4032/IMG_2735.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9-JaHPMiIW7fdQX-BW4q2jEnuSkHpOFp1U1RRbcMuHOKNDAFT5wZwD2KRI-5NQ65YkJcel8yN5pJqai_YWmGDDtyFj12fmOJamtW9u4TlkzFyD0SA-du508KTOP8cCZ5iWJ4_D_lKJA/s320/IMG_2735.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2WjxUMp_rsdP4IhKlWZ4KW3eTfhyL0t4mpq34b0Ap0vTaJ9hXfL2TSRhRiF28IGGcaHbRpgMU2DzONGxv_VoPNRa126sC75pHdkq1DD9nZa0a71NMsikiSeEHSw-xIumdiRQHmrQM-K0/s4032/IMG_2738.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2WjxUMp_rsdP4IhKlWZ4KW3eTfhyL0t4mpq34b0Ap0vTaJ9hXfL2TSRhRiF28IGGcaHbRpgMU2DzONGxv_VoPNRa126sC75pHdkq1DD9nZa0a71NMsikiSeEHSw-xIumdiRQHmrQM-K0/s320/IMG_2738.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmex9LlpKCGP0vfq1GFQ0D7Gdbx-noyjYm3PBqKrG1lgUE1m5M0DSgEQoLbWYfNf8DnIE11hWEKj918G_JdvVgAQ9gmKw8tU3L2VuYshzTGHZusZf_68zjxdSKppzWAxnGD5skDDx16c/s4032/IMG_2889.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmex9LlpKCGP0vfq1GFQ0D7Gdbx-noyjYm3PBqKrG1lgUE1m5M0DSgEQoLbWYfNf8DnIE11hWEKj918G_JdvVgAQ9gmKw8tU3L2VuYshzTGHZusZf_68zjxdSKppzWAxnGD5skDDx16c/s320/IMG_2889.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBvZWH-5LDwS-Ws5H9_Lf9Uze7UyO9xXp5DNs1oF7C9u3Tw46_jOr-T8FlAGX5exKrz006e1E-5xOjCYg660PQGRwAnVUfi-vyCVs1xK02JWVnCdVes9WEcS1sC8h64m9qj-rIRJU1w4/s4032/IMG_3252.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBvZWH-5LDwS-Ws5H9_Lf9Uze7UyO9xXp5DNs1oF7C9u3Tw46_jOr-T8FlAGX5exKrz006e1E-5xOjCYg660PQGRwAnVUfi-vyCVs1xK02JWVnCdVes9WEcS1sC8h64m9qj-rIRJU1w4/s320/IMG_3252.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-7776974562596573342020-11-22T11:01:00.000-08:002020-11-22T11:01:01.340-08:00Gratitude Post 2 <p> Today I'm grateful for the Sabbath Day and the opportunity we've had to worship at home. Here's Cal all dressed up for church. Look how big he is. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGzrdxjAin-QPBKBto5biRj9QWCAWILf10qjsPqSUI1HwPNXemT9BSAKhmkMm2Mk_r8uOvJGGP9OAv0UZ4CaFTEcp5MzvFo1zKor5xH_-t3h7hbSZF1KIBa0dLBpvvR9yfLkU7VCEZhA/s2048/IMG_4108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGzrdxjAin-QPBKBto5biRj9QWCAWILf10qjsPqSUI1HwPNXemT9BSAKhmkMm2Mk_r8uOvJGGP9OAv0UZ4CaFTEcp5MzvFo1zKor5xH_-t3h7hbSZF1KIBa0dLBpvvR9yfLkU7VCEZhA/s320/IMG_4108.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's Brynn pretending to be King Benjamin earlier this year. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_4_QtK3eCyAWExrFXk6P9SQR0hw1_GMZE5X8PWf-Nzy_SdLvrYe3nzpRoxpdQUQhxhcU2dqoIAHKb0hCBEOXRcQmOHeatSis5ZZteCoJM277Qu6YCUvINXl4FF1MWOed6ab3yEhUKHY/s2048/IMG_3415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_4_QtK3eCyAWExrFXk6P9SQR0hw1_GMZE5X8PWf-Nzy_SdLvrYe3nzpRoxpdQUQhxhcU2dqoIAHKb0hCBEOXRcQmOHeatSis5ZZteCoJM277Qu6YCUvINXl4FF1MWOed6ab3yEhUKHY/s320/IMG_3415.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today as I wrestled my children during a remote Relief Society lesson, I thought, WOW, I cannot WAIT to just sit quietly at church while my kids go to their own classes. That sounds positively dreamlike. It makes me grateful for all the sacrifices people have been making for me and my family my whole life so that I could learn the gospel in a community setting. It also makes me happy that I've had opportunities to serve as well. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That being said, the most important thing about the Sabbath is our ability to partake of the sacrament and remember the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and we've been able to do that every week in our own home. The sacrament is an ordinance where we take the bread and water to remind us of the body and blood of Jesus Christ. We renew our promise to Him to remember Him and live like Him, and we become clean as we strive to do these things. Because Greg has the priesthood power, he is able to bless the sacrament for us. How monumental is that? I know God wants us to feel close to Him, even and especially during times of upheaval and distress. How grateful I am that He has given us the means to worship no matter what. </div><br /><p></p>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-78995289609837351432020-11-21T18:19:00.001-08:002020-11-21T18:19:48.972-08:00Gratitude Post 1 <p>This week, members of my church were challenged to share one thing they are grateful for each day on social media. Well, lately I've really been feeling like I need a creative outlet. My intention has been to resurrect this blog and just spend some time writing, and this is the perfect time and opportunity to do it. </p><p>So, what am I grateful for? This might sound cheesy or artificially academic, but I'm grateful for leaders, friends, and family that honor and celebrate the concept of gratitude. I'm not sure that really makes sense, so let me try to explain. </p><p>Sometimes it's easy in life to be grateful, and sometimes it's not. Maybe this year is one of the years where it's been difficult to be grateful. Pandemic, anyone? </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-7dn0BOpkqlYN30nGJT7UL9r8aEJlwokNw9kIPDT4dIyMqLvKOjA7rxAo1_UbyYJZ0QDgzykvFNZ8d45xFb72szajp52mnIYPNyEbyO4TQQdztmKHEbB9uDmPg5yImm-MBxGObp3tDE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="684" data-original-width="702" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-7dn0BOpkqlYN30nGJT7UL9r8aEJlwokNw9kIPDT4dIyMqLvKOjA7rxAo1_UbyYJZ0QDgzykvFNZ8d45xFb72szajp52mnIYPNyEbyO4TQQdztmKHEbB9uDmPg5yImm-MBxGObp3tDE/" width="246" /></a></div><br />We've been lucky to not be drastically impacted by Covid, and I hope not to minimize any of the issues that others have faced this year when I say that. But I can't say that we've come through totally unscathed. Brynn really, really, really needs to make friends. After moving 16 months ago, she STILL brings up all the friends she had in Florida. I miss playgroups and I miss talking with other moms and I miss Brynn being able to play with other kids in a totally unstructured way. If you can't tell, my kids have been driving me crazy lately, and being trapped in the house while having basically zero alone time has been hard for me. <p></p><p>And that's why I needed so badly to be reminded that gratitude is important. And guess what? Gratitude is important even when it's hard. Gratitude is ESPECIALLY important even when it's hard. I'm grateful that my children are healthy. That's something I can never take for granted. I'm grateful that my home is safe and Greg's job is flexible. I'm grateful that we have still had some adventures this year, like going to Sedona and Bryce Canyon and Horseshoe Bend. I'm grateful that Brynn is still able to go to a few hours of preschool every week. I'm grateful that she is learning to read, and that I can be the one to teach her. Those lessons are treasures to me. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1znyWo3SwaAt9bliZYWXEPqktfkyjmllEKg_6HWUUETT6gxkIWvcABvkTR2dUsI-EcFT0XQ0M8JlMtdY27k2k3OsE9CAUYGSI8px_aGH9TcXvb-ta0VCNfTQyohMylM_vBzr0iKOH8bc/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1znyWo3SwaAt9bliZYWXEPqktfkyjmllEKg_6HWUUETT6gxkIWvcABvkTR2dUsI-EcFT0XQ0M8JlMtdY27k2k3OsE9CAUYGSI8px_aGH9TcXvb-ta0VCNfTQyohMylM_vBzr0iKOH8bc/" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>So, all in all, I'm grateful that I can still feel gratitude, and I'm grateful that I can ALWAYS feel gratitude. I hope that blogging about that this week will help me to make this challenge authentic and personal, instead of just something I do thoughtlessly because I was asked to (not judging anyone here at all--I just know what I personally need to get out of this moment in time right now and I'm trying to be smart about the work I need to do in order to accomplish that). </p><p>So here's to Thanksgiving, and here's to challenges that make us stronger. Stronger, and more grateful. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-72044464263998674522020-03-04T14:59:00.002-08:002020-03-04T15:03:03.479-08:00We Went Adventuring <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Guess what, guys?!?! I remembered I have a blog! And I declare the Zollinger Blog officially open for business! </div>
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So here in Utah, WINTER is a thing. For a born and bred Arizona girl who came to adulthood in Florida, this is TRAGIC. I'm not being melodramatic. It is truly a HEINOUS CRIME how dark and cold it has been. People keep telling me that this has been a mild Utah winter and I'm like, DO YOU KNOW THERE ARE PLACES OUT THERE WHERE THE SUN STILL SHINES??? </div>
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So right along about the middle of February, a trip was sounding pretty good. We bought ourselves one of those little hiking backpack thingies and called up my parents and asked them if they wanted to meet us in Sedona.</div>
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Cal is like, What is this thing? Have you guys lost your mind? </div>
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I didn't know that I like red rock so much, but it turns out I do. After a few hours, Greg and I were planning our move to Sedona. Just kidding...I don't think there are many financial analyst jobs there. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeUe5tGK_5x-69Z1xwGPEQEYVx7xt2W3eKjpEjbtkW2ReN7BgRrEXSON3WDpygeE2h2mYd5poIfSypwb2cWK0diypx0qM1oq_5cWx_-7kwW14t9K5OY_Qxzoq7H_3hgg5ezy9FnODcjU/s1600/IMG_0042.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeUe5tGK_5x-69Z1xwGPEQEYVx7xt2W3eKjpEjbtkW2ReN7BgRrEXSON3WDpygeE2h2mYd5poIfSypwb2cWK0diypx0qM1oq_5cWx_-7kwW14t9K5OY_Qxzoq7H_3hgg5ezy9FnODcjU/s320/IMG_0042.jpeg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT45wBjdsf5vALkUkGfcDmgiNuCd8dYtSanlFWhkVAfTTZB57bnc3sODrt_mtJR3XlwZT5ev9AsJwdjMFN6T6gacq9YgsrPwir64nhZBDY2OEWyJ6g3ples5VbgFNsf6m_NlIh6wbCHUI/s1600/IMG_0044.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT45wBjdsf5vALkUkGfcDmgiNuCd8dYtSanlFWhkVAfTTZB57bnc3sODrt_mtJR3XlwZT5ev9AsJwdjMFN6T6gacq9YgsrPwir64nhZBDY2OEWyJ6g3ples5VbgFNsf6m_NlIh6wbCHUI/s320/IMG_0044.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
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This was Brynn's first "real" hiking trip. She did beautifully! There was a bit of whining and some piggy back rides, but overall I was so proud of her great attitude. She climbed up this precarious crack in the rocks! She was definitely the youngest hiker who got to the top of Cathedral Rock (we left Callum part-way up with my mom). Someone was all, You guys must hike all the time!! And we said, "...yeeesssss." </div>
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It's pretty though, right? </div>
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She did it! </div>
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Scrambling down. </div>
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Boynton Canyon. </div>
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Mom's turn to get the boy. </div>
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Nap time on the go! </div>
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Chapel of the Holy Cross. We didn't actually get to go inside because parking was monstrous, but it's a pretty amazing building. </div>
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The little marketplace area was fun too. Lots of galleries and statues and local candy stores and the like. Look at my SHORT SLEEVES. Here Cal and I are embodying the spirit of Sacajawea. </div>
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I'm glad that living out here in the West affords us the opportunity to see beautiful places like this. When we lived in Pennsylvania and Florida, we made sure to go exploring, never knowing how long we'd be out there or if those chances would come again. Even though we both grew up in the West, we have loved seeing that there are always new things to experience and adventure is really always on your doorstep. </div>
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<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-42307238373051009552019-11-11T13:48:00.001-08:002019-11-11T14:06:34.613-08:00Catch-Up Photo Dump. My Babies Are So Big. I looked through the blog just a bit ago, and it was fun to see all the memories we've made as a family the last few years. In an attempt to document all of the stuff that I, uh, haven't documented, here is a photo dump of some cool stuff we've been up to lately in the Zollinger household. No, it's not terrible that I'm trying to catch up on 3 months with one post. Deal with it.<br />
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We went to Bear Lake with Greg's family in August. Why is this the best picture I have? Not sure. But Callum is cute, right?<br />
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Brynn turned 4! She had a unicorn cake and got an Elsa doll. </div>
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Also we celebrated Greg's birthday! The big 31. He got only one present. That's right, folks. Only one. In my defense, it's a REALLY BIG PRESENT. It's an EXPERIENCE. It's the same present I got for my birthday this year, and I'm sure we'll tell people about it when we go. I'm both excited and terrified. </div>
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Brynn's first day of Preschool! She loves it. Look how big she is. </div>
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AND Callum turned 1! It's crazy. We have a lot of birthdays in the late summer around here. I can't believe it's been a year since he was born. </div>
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Blueberry mousse! Callum couldn't exactly request a cake flavor, but he is a BIG fan of blueberries. </div>
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Callum has also decided that it can be fun to play at the park, even in cold weather. One of the things I like about where we live is that we can walk very easily to a pretty cool park. I'm trying really hard to get outside often, even if I wish it was warmer! Look how happy that boy is. </div>
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We visited a pumpkin patch with Brynn's preschool. She wanted ALL the pumpkins. </div>
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Here's Brynn in her little Halloween show. CUTE CUTE CUTE. </div>
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Case in point: Brynn with her very first library card. Can you make out the name? That's right. She can write her name itself. I was not prepared for how proud/sentimental I was the first time she wrote her name without help. It's silly, but also wonderful. </div>
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Well, that's just a few quick highlights from us. Maybe in a few years I'll look back and be glad that I can revisit these pictures. Children are only small once. </div>
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<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-27680187153704159182019-08-01T14:36:00.002-07:002019-08-01T14:38:28.306-07:00So We Moved to Utah Well, the title says it all.<br />
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On July 12 we packed up and shipped out.<br />
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Last trip to the beach. </div>
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Found the world's largest easel on our drive. If you need to locate it, it's next to Bubba's Meat Block and Bill's Shootin' Shop. Thanks Aunt Megan for coming with us! </div>
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Callum on move-in day. </div>
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The bunnies at Aunt Cathy's house. Brynn is escaping. She is not really an animal person. </div>
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Anyway, in April sometime, a recruiter for Qualtrics came looking for Greg, and we thought, why not? Let's see where this takes us. Qualtrics is a great company, and Greg has not been exactly thrilled with some things going on at JnJ lately. The whole time, I thought that there was NO WAY we'd ever actually take the job.<br />
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Well, the calls went well. The online chats went well. The in-person interview went well. Next thing I know, we get a job offer here in Provo.<br />
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Greg was happy. I was happy for Greg.<br />
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But I was not happy about moving to Utah.<br />
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So, I have to pause here. I always feel a little bit guilty when acknowledging that moving to Utah wasn't my big dream or anything like that. We both have family in Utah, and that's a really good thing, you know? Of course it's been fun being back closer to where we both grew up. It's also very nice to be back in Provo where we met and dated, and there's a special security in knowing that Austin and Daniel's resting place is close by and I can go visit them whenever I want. It's also pretty cool that there are lots more temples out here than in Florida.<br />
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But, you know what?<br />
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I liked Florida. I loved Florida. I loved the storms that came off the ocean. I loved the walls of green forests that sheltered brackish creeks and turtles and alligators and dark musty swamp earth. I loved the dragonflies as big as my palms. I loved the swelter and the night-time noises of frogs in our backyard. Once that sand gets in your bloodstream you never really get it out.<br />
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I liked having adventures. I liked being with Greg and my kids out on our own. I liked traveling up to Savannah or Charleston or Atlanta. For crying out loud, I liked our DISNEY PASSES. I'm a wandering soul. And that's the way I like it. I would move 100 times before I grow old, just to experience something new. That doesn't mean I don't want roots. Of course, I miss my friends and my beautiful home back in Jacksonville.<br />
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And that's the thing. People treat me like I have roots in Utah that I must have been dying to get back to. But I didn't. If anything, I had roots in Jacksonville. Roots in the swamp country and roots that climbed into the ocean and wanted to float forever in the waves.<br />
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"Aren't you so glad to be back home?" people ask. Well, I suppose. In some ways. But Utah was never really my home.<br />
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I always dreamed that we would make it back up to the Northeast eventually. If we were going to move, that's where I wanted to go next. Back to Pennsylvania and the 200 year old farm houses and the winding roads built on colonial wagon tracks and the weekend trips into New York City.<br />
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But now we live in Utah. And Utah is...Utah.<br />
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I'm getting used to it. I miss my house. We are renting a new little townhome in Vineyard and it's kind of terrible. I miss being a homeowner. I miss having my own yard and not having strangers walk right outside my window. But it's fine.<br />
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I have really loved being closer to family. We've already been to my grandmother's 90th birthday party and a few other things that we otherwise would have just missed out on.<br />
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But I don't think the wanderlust will ever really go away. I crave new places. I want bright shores. I want big lands. I'm already planning where we'll go next. "Home" is with Greg and Brynn and Cal. Home is somewhere else. I'm homesick, but I don't even know where "Home" is exactly. Home is a feeling, and it's not a feeling that I have here.<br />
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I was heartbroken to leave Florida. Greg loves his job at Qualtrics and it does me good to see him happy. I know that this move was the right thing for our family, but that doesn't mean it was easy.<br />
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I guess we'll see where we end up. For now, I'm enjoying the journey and we have plans to experience new things here in Utah. That's enough for now. So why am I itching to move again? Because I am, and we just got here.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-65864918001967456342019-04-06T19:15:00.000-07:002019-04-06T19:15:14.707-07:00A Recap and A Moment Okay. It's been a while. I'm aware.<br />
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Having a new baby is craziness, but right now both my kids are sleeping and something happened that I really want to remember. So how about I do a little recap of the last few months and then try to remember what I wanted to say from an hour ago? Too much in one post? Deal with it, internet people.<br />
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First, some pictures:<br />
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This is Callum a few days after he came home from the NICU. He probably weighed less than 6.5 lbs. So tiny. It's good to look back and see how much he's grown.<br />
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Christmas Day. Brynn is an amazing big sister. </div>
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Do you see the floating mountains of Pandora? We got Disney passes this year. Big ol' splurge because HOSPITAL happened to our family for 9 weeks straight and it drove us to our limits so WE DESERVE DISNEY. </div>
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Brynn on her first Sunday as a Sunbeam (three year old class at church)! Sniff! </div>
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Just look at my darling baby. Just look at him. Those blue eyes. He is a happy, smiley little boy. He has my heart. </div>
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Shenanigans with sissy...</div>
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A friend snapped this picture of me at the park just a week or so ago. Okay, I have like ten more pounds to go before I get to pre-Callum weight. But isn't he so sweet? He fell asleep in my arms as I pushed Brynn on the swings. </div>
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Flower chain. Because you are only three once. </div>
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I just love this little family of mine. I just love love love them. They make me so happy. </div>
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It blows my mind how fast time has gone by lately. Cliche much? But I mean it. Callum has grown so much, and so has Brynn. Cal is healthy, and though we might have to wait a bit to know how he'll develop after being born 9 weeks early, things are looking so good. We are so lovingly blessed by a Father who knows us.</div>
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Maybe time has gone by so quickly because our experience with having Callum in such a crazy way still colors my thoughts everyday. Obviously it has, because he's been home almost 6 months and I still feel the need to write about it. People ask how he's doing occasionally, and usually I say he's doing great, which is true. </div>
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But you know what? This whole thing affected me. Months have gone by and it's still affecting me. </div>
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For the most part, I am proud of how Greg and I dealt with Callum's crazy birth. We just buckled down and did what needed to be done. I only had one crazy person meltdown the whole time. I don't know how I dealt with him being in the NICU for six weeks. I don't know how I did it. How did I come home without him day after day after day? How did I pump and pump and pump and pump and pump, knowing that he still couldn't nurse and maybe wouldn't be able to for weeks? How did I make that drive to the hospital three, sometimes four times a day? How did I deal with leaving Brynn alone at home after having been without her for so long already? How did I feed him in the dead of night when he choked so often and it took so much effort and I was so exhausted? </div>
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I don't know. But we did it. Somehow we did it. </div>
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But just because we were brave doesn't mean it wasn't hard. Just because we worked really hard to have a good attitude doesn't mean it didn't shake me to my core. </div>
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First of all, PPROM haunts me. This isn't a fluke. It's a scary thing that I can't ignore and I can't fix. I have looked for information on the reoccurence of a woman's water breaking early. There is almost no research on it, because most women do not try to have more children after this happens to them. So that knowledge just floats around in my world and I have yet to really process it. </div>
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Also, is Callum okay? Yes, he is. But is he? How do I make sure that I don't treat him differently from Brynn? How do I stop wondering if he really is "okay"? Because he is. But...is he? So I try not to think about this often, and most of the time I succeed because my kids need me and my baby is adorable and laughing and growing and eating and breathing and I'm busy. </div>
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But is he okay, though? After days of being intubated and days of being on oxygen and antibiotics and some issue with white matter in his brain...is he okay? And when will this stop nagging at the back of my brain. Never. Because I'm his mom. </div>
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Also, if I ever have to enter any kind of hospital again, I will have panic attacks on panic attacks. I cannot go back. I dealt with it when I had to, and now I never want to ever again. I saw one of those hospital food trays in a TV show and the sight filled me with anger and all sorts of angst. So that's a thing. </div>
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Our lives have returned to normal. But they haven't really, because we have to find a new normal, and I'm not sure I've found it yet. </div>
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But I love my family, and right now, they are whole and safe, and that's enough. </div>
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Tonight Greg was gone, and the kids were in bed. We are trying to move up Callum's bedtime as he drops a nap, but it was a tiny bit rough tonight, and Cal woke up crying just as it started raining. It was one of those big, sudden storms that comes off the ocean, and the thunder and the noise was enough to remind me that we live in the tropics. </div>
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Brynn came out of her room with tears on her cheeks. Usually she is not afraid of rain, but for some reason tonight the downpour got her.</div>
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I try to be pretty strict on bedtime. </div>
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But not tonight. </div>
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I took my children in my arms and laid on our bed. Callum made those little baby gulping noises that come after a cry, and Brynn put her arm on mine in the halflight. We listened to the rain and the sound of Callum chomping down on his paci. The weight of their warmth was all around me. Having these kids has been hard, but they are here and they are mine. </div>
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I missed Austin and Daniel, but I felt them close. </div>
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I told Brynn that I loved her, and she whispered "Yeah." And in the storm, my life is very sweet. </div>
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I resolved to come here and write it down so I wouldn't forget it. Things are crazy, and I am changed after Cal's birth. Life is fragile, but maybe the fragility makes it all the more precious? I don't know. </div>
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We're not supposed to have all the answers. We're just supposed to enjoy the quiet moments when we can. So I'm a different person than I was before August 17 last year, but different is okay, because when I'm different I learn to love even greater than I did before. </div>
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-26252293582078121002018-08-23T16:18:00.002-07:002018-08-23T16:18:36.707-07:00The Most Important Baking I'll Ever Do Well, things have been a little crazy at the Zollinger house lately.<br />
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Also I'm not at the house.<br />
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Also my days are not crazy...they are pretty boring.<br />
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For those who may not know, we were expecting a baby in November! Yay!! I say "were" because we are now expecting him in September. We never "officially" announced it, because, frankly, we're weirdos. I had a cerclage (stitch) placed in my cervix just like we did with Brynn because I'm always going to be high risk. And things were going great! My cervix always measured on the long side and there were no signs that we'd have any problems.<br />
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Here is a belly pic I quickly snapped before church when I was around 22 weeks. Please note my messy bathroom and feel good about the fact that everyone everywhere has a messy bathroom sometimes. This is probably the only cute picture we will get for this pregnancy! </div>
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Around 3 on Friday morning I woke up and something was wrong. I won't go into the details, because tmi, but I figured out pretty quickly that my water had broken. This is the same thing that happened with Austin and Daniel in 2013. It sounds silly, but I am glad I was asleep. It's been a little hard to relive all of that. </div>
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Things are different this time around though, and we can't describe how grateful and lucky we feel. I did not lose ALL the amniotic fluid, and I was at 27 w 6 d when it happened. We rushed in to the ER really quickly and they transferred me to another hospital downtown. The first day was rough. There was about a 50% chance I would go into labor... but I didn't! Slowly they were able to start unhooking tubs and monitoring devices and by Saturday evening things had calmed down. </div>
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I'm admitted now at the hospital until Baby Boy comes out. Hopefully we can make it to 34 weeks! At that point it's safer to deliver than stay pregnant. Our big concerns are infection, placental abruption, and just anything else that will cause early labor or complications for Baby. </div>
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If Baby was born now, his outlook would be really good. He has passed the "micro-preemie" stage. Even though he'd have a long NICU stay in front of him, we are far enough long that we could probably avoid a lot of the scariest dangers of prematurity. I can't describe how amazing that feels. If this had happened even a few weeks earlier, I would have been much more scared. Certainly I'm nervous for Baby to be born too soon, but every cloud has a silver lining. I feel reassured that he'll come when he's meant to. I think he's a special person. If Heavenly Father wants to give him a few extra challenges early in life, who am I to question that? That might sound funny, but it's my way of turning over my children to Heavenly Father so that I can be the best mom possible. We feel very positive that everything will be okay. </div>
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And Baby is doing great! He's a troublemaker but he's also a trooper. My fluid levels never got crazy low, and they have increased since it all happened! I am at a 14, which is a HUGE deal. Average fluid level is a 15! This is so great because Baby used the fluid to practice breathing. For right now, he's still able to develop normally. They monitor him often and he's doing all the things he's supposed to be doing. I even got this really cool 4D picture. </div>
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Look at those little lips! </div>
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So if anyone needs me, I'll just be here hanging out in my room in the ante/post natal area. I can't go home til he's born. The days are slow, but we've already made it through almost a week! I'm just happy he's still cooking. </div>
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It's crazy strange that I'm not with Brynn all the time like I always have been. She's taking it all in stride. Toddlers are resilient. What's she eating? What's she wearing? How much TV is she watching? How can she go to bed without me checking on her??? How can I go to bed without checking on her?? Turns out, all the little things you worry about work themselves out. We're really lucky that my mom has been able to come out and hang with Brynn during the days. She visits all the time and we snuggle on my magical moving bed and watch movies and read books. It's strange, but it will be just a blip. In a year from now we'll look back and hardly remember the particulars of these days. </div>
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Greg sends me lots of fun pictures like this: Just dancing and singing like Elsa. </div>
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Today we are 28 weeks 5 days. We're just going to take one day at time and be happy for all the time we get. We'll certainly take prayers that baby will continue to grow and stay where he is for a bit longer! I will also take book and show suggestions. Also, does anyone know how to crochet? Thinking now might be a good time to learn. Also I've always wanted to speak French... </div>
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I'm sure I'll be blogging more. Bedrest in a hospital seems to be conducive to free time. As long as Baby Boy is still baking, we'll take it! </div>
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<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-67513169273435158382018-07-20T06:38:00.003-07:002018-07-20T06:58:41.459-07:00Elsa Dress Just a quick sewing update post so I can shamelessly pin my own sewing to a Pinterest board!<br />
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A good friend asked if I could make her daughter an Elsa inspired play dress for her fourth birthday, and this is the result! Of course, it is<a href="https://oliverands.com/community/blog/2016/09/introducing-the-oliver-s-building-block-dress.html"> Oliver + S Building Block Dress</a> to the rescue again. I love how you can personalize the pattern so it turns out exactly how you want.<br />
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I was lucky enough to find some sparkly white fabric and rick rack. I went to a couple different stores before I landed on this PERFECT blue fabric as well. I didn't want to just go plain blue, and this pattern is kind of Nordic-y, which I think is fun.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yy2lc_PyB9D74GmLxdETG6F1gJ5RCyoLdYrW-NBHZWmvE4tNX_15yn1fqJZMmw_WPR6a8FVT87PtaFpawc0Q6gdPHdeO6f0wqNUw6Q9vEzPVpmwbCZt7cm12zkZ7-lC_w1pa13Gs_Hg/s1600/Elsa+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yy2lc_PyB9D74GmLxdETG6F1gJ5RCyoLdYrW-NBHZWmvE4tNX_15yn1fqJZMmw_WPR6a8FVT87PtaFpawc0Q6gdPHdeO6f0wqNUw6Q9vEzPVpmwbCZt7cm12zkZ7-lC_w1pa13Gs_Hg/s320/Elsa+1.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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This dress features double layered flutter sleeves, an invisible zipper, a shaped yoke with trim, a box pleat, waist seam pockets, and an exterior facing hem. I did have some trouble with getting that facing on without puckers, but it turned out okay in the end.<br />
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I've never been very good at bows, but I put this one together for R's birthday gift from Brynn.<br />
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Happy Birthday, R! I hope this dress brings you through many Frozen adventures.<br />
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<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-88172621964711639242018-03-19T17:38:00.004-07:002018-03-19T17:38:42.149-07:00Booky Books and Goodreads All right, I've been thinking about what I want to do to chronicle the books I've read this year. And I think that what I've decided is that instead of putting them all up on my blog, I'm just going to try to be better at keeping my Goodreads account up to date.<div>
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If you haven't tried Goodreads and you like to read at least a reasonable amount, you should take a look. It's ridiculous how happy I am to have this nice little list of everything I've ever read and want to read. It is Book Lover's Utopia. </div>
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So here's my Goodreads link because I know you want to follow me: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/">https://www.goodreads.com/</a></div>
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So be my friend and let me see what books you are reading. This year I have read 10 books so far! My goal is to read 52 books this year, so I'm a little behind, but I have read some really good ones (The Chosen, Quiet, Speak, A Monster Calls...to name a few). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoNIDJ8S85GB7Uw8zRyQZocWdCDNd1A1fkiT8LSsij7FzJPLfOxyechMnQgMg3Zbm9rZBEMxJOmZLfJK5ceb-ZM1CA_eSGGuWbunzYaQ5tzXjwafT5P-VAacUWQLFJHFM9RxEW3Prllg/s1600/7514173_orig.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="508" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoNIDJ8S85GB7Uw8zRyQZocWdCDNd1A1fkiT8LSsij7FzJPLfOxyechMnQgMg3Zbm9rZBEMxJOmZLfJK5ceb-ZM1CA_eSGGuWbunzYaQ5tzXjwafT5P-VAacUWQLFJHFM9RxEW3Prllg/s320/7514173_orig.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-78041370518778700122018-02-07T11:21:00.002-08:002018-02-07T11:47:58.603-08:00Brynn's Upcycle Dress <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hey, today I'm feeling prett-ay crafty and awesome with myself because I actually did one of those diy things that's always floating around my facebook feed. I made Brynn a dress from a dude shirt! Yay! And I'm here to tell you all about it (read: brag shamelessly).<br />
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Please note, this is not really a tutorial. I definitely don't consider myself qualified enough to give crafty tutorials. This is more like a "HEYYY look at this cute thing I did here are some crappy cell phone pictures to prove I did it" type of thing.<br />
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But it's cute though, right??<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjB0dOQ8fLBSJt65hud0S82P6bzlvi_cEpzXoUIxANiGMDEB6FkPUQxp-yozYt0VhW-4KyXkUHuFHIa8qUbaUZCZu9Gnbg3GY-hZZIEO-bgUn3UIVW-rcL6ll6RXdICTrADKO2nQcBkxs/s1600/unnamed+%252811%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjB0dOQ8fLBSJt65hud0S82P6bzlvi_cEpzXoUIxANiGMDEB6FkPUQxp-yozYt0VhW-4KyXkUHuFHIa8qUbaUZCZu9Gnbg3GY-hZZIEO-bgUn3UIVW-rcL6ll6RXdICTrADKO2nQcBkxs/s320/unnamed+%252811%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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So I went to Goodwill yesterday, which is not something I usually enjoy doing. But this trip was fun! I found this pink striped shirt in 3 seconds and I also walked out with 5 books for $2 and a giant heart-shaped cake pan because it's Valentine's day soon, so obviously I need a giant heart-shaped cake pan. </div>
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So here's my shirt: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKlP8y2joemUgNM1eAeAAL7xWVOCye1ps6N1hmtBVLF21pbGumo7b1_CtjdrbRZzD69HMxuQRTm_QthaenxdR01JzudvxenKq9F4Qzid6jakApZR2UaAseozbGowkVsQrLV5Q6sQ-AEQ/s1600/unnamed+%252823%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKlP8y2joemUgNM1eAeAAL7xWVOCye1ps6N1hmtBVLF21pbGumo7b1_CtjdrbRZzD69HMxuQRTm_QthaenxdR01JzudvxenKq9F4Qzid6jakApZR2UaAseozbGowkVsQrLV5Q6sQ-AEQ/s320/unnamed+%252823%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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And here's my ridiculously messy sewing room, because keeping it real: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnrt40Ntc2THnQr5rzNUb3pqao7YUrjroFi2bcxk0bkqc4-nr57-x0uPzWETweaVdVnDeHVu0qbOfARy-2FTuCVDOT3x-MpmTkQV01uWwSa2WMD2ggUDxXwNamGG3RhK444bbX3obTTtU/s1600/unnamed+%252812%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnrt40Ntc2THnQr5rzNUb3pqao7YUrjroFi2bcxk0bkqc4-nr57-x0uPzWETweaVdVnDeHVu0qbOfARy-2FTuCVDOT3x-MpmTkQV01uWwSa2WMD2ggUDxXwNamGG3RhK444bbX3obTTtU/s320/unnamed+%252812%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You know like on Pinterest and on blogs everyone's sewing room is neat and color-coordinated and cutely decorated? YEAH, JOKES. </div>
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Also I have a cleaning up problem. In my defense, that chambray that is still on the floor made a darling dress for Brynn last week: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_JVfMUFpNnT-reYMH7clO3wRQdVzOhY-4zyXE1fMd1IC1GgOcxLamt0GmMTf6hDD1odqwn9CXFQ_XYsby-BkPRxyflm2N2AC9CHsu_0rANVSZQ9A8L_I5ygaqXsjk4VwyZBoeeoigFU/s1600/IMG_8387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_JVfMUFpNnT-reYMH7clO3wRQdVzOhY-4zyXE1fMd1IC1GgOcxLamt0GmMTf6hDD1odqwn9CXFQ_XYsby-BkPRxyflm2N2AC9CHsu_0rANVSZQ9A8L_I5ygaqXsjk4VwyZBoeeoigFU/s320/IMG_8387.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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So, back to my non-tutorial.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CXvkeMORuO6OzG1CPaTDctnvUbypnqp5Hjr_eFvUlbdBq1EgilICHCBKpIPPvMThGweh9KTXykwfnuiHG9qEesHftqQyHGwVgm1M0IfTFNvwBTnwuwByrc-Bmn3PKKVH0EyNbJAS20w/s1600/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CXvkeMORuO6OzG1CPaTDctnvUbypnqp5Hjr_eFvUlbdBq1EgilICHCBKpIPPvMThGweh9KTXykwfnuiHG9qEesHftqQyHGwVgm1M0IfTFNvwBTnwuwByrc-Bmn3PKKVH0EyNbJAS20w/s320/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I used a dress to kind of trace the shape of the dress I wanted. At first I cut the collar off thinking I could keep the original neckline, but if you keep the neckline you can't keep the original hemline. So what I ended up doing is drawing the dress pattern from the bottom, and just making the dress long enough so that an original button was right under the seam line on the top. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegdYwO37KltPLUU9_CaARoKIJQAL8So0iwZSdQj968b7FdYWljc4MkBCACScF9BzTeBuGGut6iQbeNChezmCyZdFxkZis7d-fYNuwiPWW_bg_qI6vR2CxHdrFR95eErlJh4lnFz8OhIE/s1600/unnamed+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegdYwO37KltPLUU9_CaARoKIJQAL8So0iwZSdQj968b7FdYWljc4MkBCACScF9BzTeBuGGut6iQbeNChezmCyZdFxkZis7d-fYNuwiPWW_bg_qI6vR2CxHdrFR95eErlJh4lnFz8OhIE/s320/unnamed+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I used a bodice pattern piece to help drawing too. (From the chambray dress with the ruffles down the bodice front, which is why it's not a full pattern piece. I had to chop it up). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDn_WtY4fTRyudmtrY4pF3ieBs4uzPTRKtlkDrN2cX0b6ABAJvnuP20Nx02cW-s2OdEPXzfsIYAwLEK_GJLgBNKf1HAU1EyADouhDcotwkMpF0hUuKK2yzsAcG18EUsmJVfQ9ntTylzzc/s1600/unnamed+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDn_WtY4fTRyudmtrY4pF3ieBs4uzPTRKtlkDrN2cX0b6ABAJvnuP20Nx02cW-s2OdEPXzfsIYAwLEK_GJLgBNKf1HAU1EyADouhDcotwkMpF0hUuKK2yzsAcG18EUsmJVfQ9ntTylzzc/s320/unnamed+%25284%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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So when I cut out the dress I did it on the fold so everything would be the same size/shape. First I did the front and then I used that piece to do the back. The neckline was just a little higher in the back. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfffN-9UuDfApmFu6ZCkbHXPUIzF0z3YFo7ruQFYm-QItlM4xi3XJKzc-0zEArYFhidLn-yBgR4J7B_XppLDPqRgJZmMYNr1hAFnQtCCdR3a1G9VZjloKffOHSgnV43uu9F8pMJuukkio/s1600/unnamed+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfffN-9UuDfApmFu6ZCkbHXPUIzF0z3YFo7ruQFYm-QItlM4xi3XJKzc-0zEArYFhidLn-yBgR4J7B_XppLDPqRgJZmMYNr1hAFnQtCCdR3a1G9VZjloKffOHSgnV43uu9F8pMJuukkio/s320/unnamed+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIAvokBNXYcAPDhHST-nI314CpGjKGMsFiVYA2gLsQMO3j7G7hMslEADHU31NYm-UJvcDRobJt9duNDVbQwtAu2UJBgSvwFTXbRf-rsZrgAhlaC70XWz41E6qyvHUqvuuvC2isiVfd8k/s1600/unnamed+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIAvokBNXYcAPDhHST-nI314CpGjKGMsFiVYA2gLsQMO3j7G7hMslEADHU31NYm-UJvcDRobJt9duNDVbQwtAu2UJBgSvwFTXbRf-rsZrgAhlaC70XWz41E6qyvHUqvuuvC2isiVfd8k/s320/unnamed+%25285%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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So then I sewed the shoulder seams. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwifWvbzmgtTer8zR_b9W7Qn1uFT3vD9EhYc_77_wBLoDAb1JkYYH5UuWsVwUQe6PiOWZoAB571DzgIhPzxZ8qUBV6lBP6dl3SNb1GbgJ79fKRQ_h-w3E-evj9aRKbYx3AX2v1JQg3ahg/s1600/unnamed+%25286%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwifWvbzmgtTer8zR_b9W7Qn1uFT3vD9EhYc_77_wBLoDAb1JkYYH5UuWsVwUQe6PiOWZoAB571DzgIhPzxZ8qUBV6lBP6dl3SNb1GbgJ79fKRQ_h-w3E-evj9aRKbYx3AX2v1JQg3ahg/s320/unnamed+%25286%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I wanted to do an easy neckline and bias faced is easy. But I was feeling way too lazy to make my own bias tape, and I wasn't sure I had enough material to make it anyway. So I used blue bias tape. Contrasting colors is like a thing people do, right? So it's not mismatched, it's a "fun surprise" or something. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEtoxCIMJplyenMcWhU5uNBlsaQapdBldO44J5ddaRAv86pNQgm4FuAueZEhpbynoP2qmrpGHpzm1BNdg5UklEnePY3hJHem2HjPnVfWZ6YoqrfIQVxvS52JaHyG5oAwiPX_8FNMwBXM/s1600/unnamed+%25287%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEtoxCIMJplyenMcWhU5uNBlsaQapdBldO44J5ddaRAv86pNQgm4FuAueZEhpbynoP2qmrpGHpzm1BNdg5UklEnePY3hJHem2HjPnVfWZ6YoqrfIQVxvS52JaHyG5oAwiPX_8FNMwBXM/s320/unnamed+%25287%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Neckline done! </div>
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Then I used my trusty Building Block Dress book to draw a basic cap sleeve. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5XMDaqZqXUN6Ul4NMnDYu2d5_PSrScdaDYIsSsyQmKioEF7zU-bD24Fm1JG8q88NQ-oaPw1z3k4kJmFccEGXK0JI3jg_p45Mt2k747gozTHTKBM1yINHt7ijye2M_yumnyx3uQSvoMA/s1600/unnamed+%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5XMDaqZqXUN6Ul4NMnDYu2d5_PSrScdaDYIsSsyQmKioEF7zU-bD24Fm1JG8q88NQ-oaPw1z3k4kJmFccEGXK0JI3jg_p45Mt2k747gozTHTKBM1yINHt7ijye2M_yumnyx3uQSvoMA/s320/unnamed+%25288%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9foC32YlAZCB8oOe_goyOgBwBf6AvvFc0vwN35lxESDp4yu0JQ8zk1nsBh_xHtcvQVzdSL56vs49-Wmy2VptgvvVub3PBgMKD4wQz1ChBN-6zL4rvflvpXsMFQs4sE5DoUAraXR7xjrg/s1600/unnamed+%25289%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9foC32YlAZCB8oOe_goyOgBwBf6AvvFc0vwN35lxESDp4yu0JQ8zk1nsBh_xHtcvQVzdSL56vs49-Wmy2VptgvvVub3PBgMKD4wQz1ChBN-6zL4rvflvpXsMFQs4sE5DoUAraXR7xjrg/s320/unnamed+%25289%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycAlC_Dfwd8i-rUKj3d9CAi1ZwEY5-_2i-sgA1Rlto1302AsJXQC3B9ctSwN8aEjsD-jFYK8k3HCOPX_67sGkmkUN5MhITrIjIsMJ6-TnSKFh8UHs64dGmNinAiYDnsowOIMhxeeQf2M/s1600/unnamed+%252810%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycAlC_Dfwd8i-rUKj3d9CAi1ZwEY5-_2i-sgA1Rlto1302AsJXQC3B9ctSwN8aEjsD-jFYK8k3HCOPX_67sGkmkUN5MhITrIjIsMJ6-TnSKFh8UHs64dGmNinAiYDnsowOIMhxeeQf2M/s320/unnamed+%252810%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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So then I attached the sleeves and sewed up the side seams. </div>
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I had Brynn try it on at this point (bribed her with a cookie) and I thought the dress looked a little too wide, kind of more like a lab coat than a cute dress. So I just trimmed off some on the sides and tried it again, and it was better. </div>
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I did a gathered pocket on the front of the dress but didn't get any pictures of that part! Probably because Brynn was trying to "fix" my sewing machine by messing with the bobbin while I was working so I was a little distracted. </div>
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But after the pocket and the sleeve hems the dress was done! </div>
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Excuse the poor quality of photos. You can still tell she's cute, right? </div>
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We like it! And it came together so fast. </div>
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I told her to put her hand in her pocket and this is what she did. Brynn loves pockets! </div>
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At some point I might put another button in at the front of the dress at the bottom to keep it closed better, but that can wait for now. I'm not feeling like buttonholes today. </div>
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After I took pictures of Brynn, she wanted to take some pics of me, which is fair. </div>
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After sewing, we had lunch, and Brynn wore her dress. And she needed some water which she wanted to get herself. </div>
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Dangerous stuff, but I'm trying to let her be independent. She dropped her cup like half a second after this picture was taken, and then she slipped in the water. So while she was crying she told me her dress was wet and she needed a different one. So even though she only wore it for about 20 minutes I'm still happy with our Upcycle dress! I feel both crafty and thrifty! </div>
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One of these days I'm going to stop sewing like a crazy person, but whatever. Not today. </div>
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Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-50565600400901455922018-02-03T17:32:00.000-08:002018-02-03T17:32:21.263-08:00Confessions, Round 2 (And Some Profound Questions) I couldn't find the floss to cut the pumpkin roll I made last week. And I realized the last time I used floss was to cut cinnamon rolls.<br />
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I don't know how to use half the settings on my dishwasher. It can't be that hard, but, I mean, what's the point? </div>
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I watch The Magic School Bus with Brynn because I'm seriously entertained by that show. I've decided that Arnold should date Phoebe, D.A. should date Tim, Carlos should date Keesha, and Wanda should end up with Ralphie. I've really spent time thinking about this.<br />
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I do not know what Keto is. Seriously. What is Keto?<br />
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After years of boycotting Pinterest I am now obsessed. I have 3 followers.<br />
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I have never eaten a cake pop. I feel like I should. Are they good? Is it just a ball of cake?<br />
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I brush my teeth so vehemently I can ruin a toothbrush in like, three days. So I guess it's okay I don't floss.<br />
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I have no interest in watching "This Is Us." Who are all these people? Is there a plot to this show? Is it true someone died because their crockpot exploded?<br />
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There is a sign on the Young Adult section room in the library that says "Teens Only" but I sneak in there sometimes anyway.<br />
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I yelled at Greg during our Half Marathon because he said "You got this babe." In my defense it was mile 12.<br />
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<img alt="Image may contain: 2 people, people smiling, sky, tree, outdoor and closeup" height="400" src="https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/25354015_10214142312247184_8622627116256765165_n.jpg?oh=49b1cda81c400e5e8a0be44554024b5e&oe=5B132C18" width="300" /><br />
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He forgave me. But he also beat me by 26 seconds so...have I forgiven him?<br />
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Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-89059365865849390492018-01-26T18:22:00.002-08:002018-01-26T18:42:16.219-08:00A Sewing Review <br />
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Last year I had a goal to spend quality time <a href="https://hgzoll.blogspot.com/2017/01/goals-and-harry-potter.html">developing talents</a>, and I had such a fulfilling time sewing for my home and for Brynn. This has really encouraged me to stop and think about some of my best and most favorite sewing projects, not just from last year, but from my whole beautiful little journey as a developing seamstress. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY-A5_iUOta0jz_Yt4aU8eZzE4v888bG-y_5W4mINgDxdVh-0teqHlmj0Dsm5smLwVKzxA2F6oKdVjEo4aaGoyGyHC0e6n8SwdxjLQi-u0sMusEROdhOEIwKTXuQ_z7W97eRZzDXlZ0bU/s1600/20151213_074937%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY-A5_iUOta0jz_Yt4aU8eZzE4v888bG-y_5W4mINgDxdVh-0teqHlmj0Dsm5smLwVKzxA2F6oKdVjEo4aaGoyGyHC0e6n8SwdxjLQi-u0sMusEROdhOEIwKTXuQ_z7W97eRZzDXlZ0bU/s1600/20151213_074937%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">This is the first dress I finished for Brynn--and, I think, the first article of clothing I ever did totally by myself! Look at that sweet baby in the yellow floral and pink rickrack. Sigh. Why do babies grow up? </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5TmNlhiVL1DKRqvYrodiZh7WlItwddi2WzUQci6WMyGFXEbOiIky64i_sEPYZULgJn9-S2Xt10oWafqO_WDBVxVh582hsW18Bz5RCL6Pt3DFxXLeYvpgWJgiIBLDsu_-UVXPlcmHEols/s1600/2015-09-27+08.32.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5TmNlhiVL1DKRqvYrodiZh7WlItwddi2WzUQci6WMyGFXEbOiIky64i_sEPYZULgJn9-S2Xt10oWafqO_WDBVxVh582hsW18Bz5RCL6Pt3DFxXLeYvpgWJgiIBLDsu_-UVXPlcmHEols/s1600/2015-09-27+08.32.54.jpg" /></a></div>
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But, here it is, folks. The dress that started it all. Brynn's <a href="https://hgzoll.blogspot.com/2015/09/brynns-blessing.html">baby blessing dress.</a> It's hard to see with the white, but this was a lined dress with a Peter Pan collar and flutter sleeves. I think I finished this dress on the day I went into labor (3 weeks early!) Turns out that it's hard to know what size your newborn will be, and the dress was a little big. But my sweet mother-in-law Geri helped us make it the right size by tacking a ribbon around the middle. Now I can't remove the ribbon because I want it to stay just as it was. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTdyQQ3jnziCBLsc-8tTp39s_H3y4XdKcaOC27m-LzctgK5gkjUhyphenhyphenfyRxLtl1hh-9l_dzCriEG4BpztRySmSF-IDOc_e8vhFf4_WyT37J2TMQF_oUFsw8hussexi_M13Z1WOKy9gzej4/s1600/2015-09-27+08.33.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTdyQQ3jnziCBLsc-8tTp39s_H3y4XdKcaOC27m-LzctgK5gkjUhyphenhyphenfyRxLtl1hh-9l_dzCriEG4BpztRySmSF-IDOc_e8vhFf4_WyT37J2TMQF_oUFsw8hussexi_M13Z1WOKy9gzej4/s1600/2015-09-27+08.33.31.jpg" /></a></div>
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I forgot how she used to always stick out her tongue like that. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMpNY2qO9g0SNN7lj53_doycpm-Tnuhp_Z7wOwnzOeFiABkL4THkGnlIPlhQbA7SA1P6XKHJhBOulUzNmhIl84gEnAjdZ9GTSpwpWS44jdDvD1by0rrewBpbGXHrpAoOXKcSJFSfZoj4/s1600/IMG_8317+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMpNY2qO9g0SNN7lj53_doycpm-Tnuhp_Z7wOwnzOeFiABkL4THkGnlIPlhQbA7SA1P6XKHJhBOulUzNmhIl84gEnAjdZ9GTSpwpWS44jdDvD1by0rrewBpbGXHrpAoOXKcSJFSfZoj4/s320/IMG_8317+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now this dress hangs on Brynn's wall with my old pointe shoes. Cute decor, yes, but also a daily reminder of my love for my daughter and how much we anticipated her coming. That's one of the reasons I love sewing. Sewing is an act of love. It's creation and creativity that allows you to give something meaningful and beautiful to a person who is beautiful to you. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtbi2UU_jBYA4GuLrM_c46HsUt1fzabgfp1uN5C12FR8o8_My6VhnGcIcf-XrI_ZNocJ1LPJ50YopHHSPKNUmJpIEcu9hWCt04WkUvWVf1Nox5Wt-JygICJGsUHhyphenhyphenumBX0pRqzGxOoXBI/s1600/IMG_8334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtbi2UU_jBYA4GuLrM_c46HsUt1fzabgfp1uN5C12FR8o8_My6VhnGcIcf-XrI_ZNocJ1LPJ50YopHHSPKNUmJpIEcu9hWCt04WkUvWVf1Nox5Wt-JygICJGsUHhyphenhyphenumBX0pRqzGxOoXBI/s320/IMG_8334.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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For Brynn's first birthday, I made her this sweet little duckie out of the same white material from her blessing dress. I hope this toy gets passed down for years to come! </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibDazO-wSqPAXlfJ8sMJzY7UYQdqEDLAe_l7uzbXUyIGvYr88_LUtwys59fY27PSBqf7OpUFv5sql8Ri-4by5gNvuMRmwcnySejQGowKnbRgWRyrPIzvAOmbsI4QpIURYm1VmOoIX5RPE/s1600/IMG_8311+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibDazO-wSqPAXlfJ8sMJzY7UYQdqEDLAe_l7uzbXUyIGvYr88_LUtwys59fY27PSBqf7OpUFv5sql8Ri-4by5gNvuMRmwcnySejQGowKnbRgWRyrPIzvAOmbsI4QpIURYm1VmOoIX5RPE/s320/IMG_8311+%25283%2529.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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Which brings me to the quilt. Ah, my first quilt. A little bit of frustration involved, but quilting taught me to be more precise than ever. Yes, there are a few mistakes I couldn't quite fix, but that is what makes it special, right? I did the big stitch quilting all by hand. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqaZI8G-iTH2O2nWZVtioWDmNvaitrfvaFGT5iZ0-2Q-ZmAghgW13RciX5OvNUnY0H8UHgZ2ogAftc_ies9H5NQvKGGDZ3-ggcUyZStmLUA_m9p32gmjhHGq2JCww8y3isjsOtXNOjxI/s1600/22729077_10213713337203076_6515737171617602093_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqaZI8G-iTH2O2nWZVtioWDmNvaitrfvaFGT5iZ0-2Q-ZmAghgW13RciX5OvNUnY0H8UHgZ2ogAftc_ies9H5NQvKGGDZ3-ggcUyZStmLUA_m9p32gmjhHGq2JCww8y3isjsOtXNOjxI/s320/22729077_10213713337203076_6515737171617602093_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I started another quilt in October or November thinking I would for sure be done in time to decorate for Christmas, but...maybe next year. Here is a square just for a sneak peek. I love the Nordic theme: </div>
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And, last year, I discovered <i><a href="https://oliverands.com/shop/oliver-s-building-block-dress.html">Building Block Dress</a></i>! This book is a wonderful idea, and I've learned a lot. I can basically make any dress I want for Brynn now. </div>
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Here is her sweet mint and pink empire waist dress with flutter sleeves and a square neckline. Perfect for our beach family photos. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">And here is our little girl modeling the dress I made for her second birthday. Wouldn't that be a fun tradition, to always make her a birthday dress? I love the placket with red buttons in front, and Brynn loves the pockets. "TWO pockets!" she says. It was the first time I had ever done a yoke silhouette like that.</span></div>
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And this is the dress that I finished just today! Another Building Block Dress from Oliver and S. I knew I had to make this cute gray fabric into a dress for Brynn the minute I saw it. I changed the collar shape from the original pattern, and I also added a cute inverted box pleat in the front and some pockets with a fold detail. Doesn't the blue look so nice with the floral pattern? And how cute are those little cuffs? </div>
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There is just something about sewing that I love...how I can get lost handling the cotton and matching the colors and just sitting with a needle. How I feel like I'm part of a heritage of people who create beautiful little things out of love. I really want to go somewhere with this, and I feel like there are good things on the horizon. It's important for me to be the kind of person who participates in a culture of learning and creating and growing, and sewing is giving me that right now. </div>
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Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-38939556934792175702018-01-04T12:23:00.000-08:002018-01-04T12:32:02.179-08:00Books - Last 2017 Post! I read 47 books this year, HOORAYYY. Maybe 14 of them were classics I had never read before, which is cool, plus a lot of others were more current event-y books that I think are really important. Best book...hmmm....The Poisonwood Bible, but there were lots of good ones. What else are you reading?<br />
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Here are the rest of the books I read in 2017!<br />
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<b>Notes From a Small Island - Bill Bryson.</b> I don't know. It was funny I guess. Memoirs/comedy of touring the UK. I kept thinking Why am I reading this? But also I couldn't stop reading it. So there's a totally useless review for you.<br />
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<b>The Witch of Blackbird Pond - Elizabeth George Speare.</b> A book club re-read from my childhood. A great book.<br />
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<b>Company Man - John Rizzo.</b> Memoirs from one of the top lawyers at the CIA. Gave interesting background about the decisions to waterboard. Rizzo argues that President Bush did not know about specific interrogation techniques, but that Bush <i>said</i> he was aware so that he could take the fall, and that makes him a "stand-up guy." Anyway, interesting stuff. Also I appreciated his nonpartisan approach (Rizzo left when Obama was elected due to the fallout over the Torture Memos, but personally voted for both republicans and democrats based on how capable the person seemed and how upheaval would affect the atmosphere of Washington).<br />
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<b>No Higher Honor: A Memoir of My Years in Washington - Condoleezza Rice</b>. I don't know WHY I keep reading all these Bush era political memoirs but whatever. Liked it, like her.<br />
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<b>Born a Crime - Trevor Noah. </b>One of the big books of the year. I was glad I read it. Humor but also brutal honestly in talking about South Africa.<br />
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<b>As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales from the Making of the Princess Bride - Cary Elwes. </b>Listened to this on audiobook and couldn't stop laughing. I wish Cary Elwes was my uncle and Andre the Giant was my, um, larger uncle.<br />
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<b>The Monuments Men - Robert M. Edsel.</b> I kept looking up stuff about famous artwork and I feel like I learned a lot. So many aspects of WWII I don't know about yet.<br />
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<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-22821783321118288172017-12-02T13:51:00.000-08:002018-01-22T18:06:30.070-08:00Family Pictures One thing I've always wanted to do in Jacksonville is take family pictures at the beach. But all in all, I've been too cheap to take family photos very often in the past (read: I've never paid for family photos). But my good friend Enge is so talented and so reasonably priced and just so wonderful that we finally got our lovely, pink-tinged, salty, windy, happy family photos on the beach.<br />
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And I love them! I tried to pick just my favorites to post here but that's still a lot, so just bear with me. </div>
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Darling girl. </div>
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Isn't this ocean-battered pier just so cute? Props to Enge for finding it! </div>
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I love this one. So happy to have captured all her happiness. </div>
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Collecting shells. </div>
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Just look at this handsome guy. Greg is a pretty photogenic dude. Enge took one picture and was like "Well...that's perfect." </div>
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Now, I'm not so photogenic. After about 200 tries we got a decent picture of me, though. Yes, the wind on the beach blew out my curls, and I was too lazy to do fancy pancy make-up (not that I really know how?) But I like this picture of me anyway. It looks like me. </div>
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Fun fact: I made Brynn's dress! I have this fantastic book from <a href="https://oliverands.com/">Oliver and S</a> called Building Block Dress. It teaches you to alter a dress pattern in basically any way you want, and I love it. I knew I wanted to do mint and pink, and I found this material on sale and decided to go for it. It only takes me a couple of days to whip out a dress now! A far cry from five years ago when I had pretty much no idea how to work a sewing machine, much less read a pattern. I'm kinda proud of myself, and now I can make exactly the dress I want for less than $10. </div>
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Gosh, we love our little family. And we love living in such a beautiful place. Florida is good to us. This sunshine-soaked place is where we need to be right now, and I'm so glad we have pictures of this beautiful time in our lives. </div>
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-8326799738793597052017-10-24T12:38:00.003-07:002017-10-24T12:38:46.221-07:00Books - Post 6 I'm way behind on my book posts, people. Some of these I feel like I read ages ago. So here's just a quick trip through my reading life lately.<br />
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<b>The Magnolia Story - Chip and Joanna Gaines. </b>Cute. They're so likable.<br />
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<b>When Breath Becomes Air - Paul Kalanithi.</b> If you want to read an extremely powerful memoir, read this. Paul Kalanithi was a neurosurgeon diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. He and his wife made the brave decision to start a family. Such beautiful lessons about life, death, and our relationship with God.<br />
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<b>The Conscience of a Conservative - Jeff Flake.</b> I went to High School with some of the Flake kids, and he was my representative growing up. Although I'm pretty sure that tons of people--both conservatives and liberals--will HATE this, I just so wholeheartedly agree with his assessment of the floundering of the Republican party, and I appreciate Flake's desire to speak the truth even though there will probably be very real consequences. When did we become the party of xenophobia and nativism? Stop it, guys. Just stop it. Nationalism is not patriotism, and stating this "is not an act of apostasy" but "an act of fidelity." A great read to understand the Trump years and what changes we can make, even though, like I said, I'm pretty sure lots of people I know will hate this.<br />
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<b>The Stranger - Camus.</b> Meh.<br />
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<b>The Omnivore's Dilemma - Michael Pollan.</b> Got kind of political at times but I probably should have expected that. I agree with Pollan that we have lost touch with our eating roots, and I should have more awareness of where my food comes from. Very interesting.<br />
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<b>The Glass Castle - Jeannette Walls.</b> A re-read. Heartbreaking and mind blowing, one of those books that everyone should read at least once.<br />
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<b>The Revenant - Michael Punke. </b>Grizzly bears and fur trappers and revenge and stuff.<br />
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<b>Hillbilly Elegy - J.D. Vance.</b> My pick for a family book club. I totally understand why this book has become so popular. Such an important read. It's basically a memoir about family life in white working class Appalachia written from the perspective of a man who left and went to Yale Law. A great read to understand the Trump years...is it just me or do I sound like a broken record? Sad and raw and real and critical to understanding America now, I think.<br />
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-14212314964153882412017-10-05T06:17:00.002-07:002017-10-05T06:17:40.176-07:00Faith Not to Be Healed It's been a hard couple of weeks.<br />
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Stuff with my calling that is stressful and I don't know how to fix. Greg has been gone a lot for hurricane cleanup. Though she was once almost fully potty trained, Brynn has regressed so much that she's back to wearing a diaper full time because I can't even handle it anymore. So I feel like I've failed her, which is not true but is also not easy to stop obsessing about. Feeling sad about fertility and reproductive health stuff, which I have so little control over. IVF gave us a small illusion of control, but it was just that...sort of an illusion. A beautiful illusion that gave us Brynn so quickly, but still. Anyway. You know. This kind of stuff.<br />
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Yesterday was also the four year anniversary of having Austin and Daniel. I miss them. It was hard. It is all okay, but it was still just hard.<br />
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Yesterday Greg got home a little later from work (it's quarter close) and Brynn had literally been whining and screaming at me for an hour and a half. For some reason she refused to nap yesterday, and she didn't sleep good the night before either. Usually she's a great sleeper. So I was frustrated and tired and sad and Greg told me to go get in the car and have a snack. He bowed out of mutual that night (which I felt a little bad about) and then he finished giving Brynn her dinner, put her to bed, washed all the dishes, cleaned up all the toys, etc, etc. He is really the best.<br />
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And I got a cookies and cream milkshake from Chic fil A and sat in an empty parking lot doing nothing for an hour.<br />
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And as I sat there, I thought, Why does everything have to be so hard? Almost immediately, I told myself that my life is beautiful and is really not terribly hard at all considering what others in the world must go through. I also remembered that Hard is Good.<br />
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But still.<br />
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I didn't come to any lovely conclusions and I don't have any grand epiphanies to share. I've been focusing on the advice given in General Conference from, I think, Elder Hallstrom and praying for the faith NOT to be healed. It feels like a good portion of my adult life I've been praying for this, with all of the different things that come with polycystic ovarian syndrome. And maybe as time goes on, maybe I'll get better and better at it.<br />
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That's what I have for right now, and I think that's probably enough. It is what it is. If everything were always easy I guess life would be pretty boring. And it's funny how the gospel works. The more I pray for faith not to be healed, the more it brings a kind of healing, and probably the best kind of healing of all.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-11832850482128712092017-09-01T12:00:00.001-07:002017-09-01T12:01:41.577-07:00Books 2017 - Post 5 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Seven Years in Tibet - Heinrich Harrer. </b>Read this for the Zollinger family book club. It was so interesting because I didn't know anything about Tibet. They practiced polyandry there when Harrer was there in the 1940s...one woman married to a bunch of different men. Also the Dalai Lama is cool.<br />
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<b>Ross Poldark, Demelza, Jeremy Poldark, Warleggan - Winston Graham. </b>Okay, so I might have gone through a *slight* Poldark obsession this summer. It all started by watching the BBC program first, and then when I finished agonizing over all the episodes I went to the books. But I first had to decide if I even wanted more Poldark in my life because I was SO MAD at the protagonist. Seriously, I have never been so emotionally involved in the decisions a bunch of fictional characters make in my life. Maybe Harry Potter. Anyway, the books added a lot of clarity and detail and background that just didn't fit in the show, but is it weird if I say I almost liked the show better?? Something so rich and so beautiful about how Ross and Demelza were portrayed on screen that I didn't feel in the books. Was it the music, the Cornwall scenery? Not sure. There are EIGHT more books in the series but I have only read up to the part where the show stopped. Don't worry, Season 3 is available in America on October 1. Anyway, I am thinking I will stop reading now because I would almost rather watch it than read it??? It's like I don't even know who I am anymore. I am so curious to see what happens next. There is a lot of potential to demonstrate real forgiveness and redemption here (YEAH ROSS YOU MESSED UP).<br />
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<b>The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood. </b>Maybe the book that made me think the hardest since I did a bunch of analyzing and researching and writing on lit in college. Some may read this as a critique on Christianity but it's not. A few passages really hit home to me...Do we classify women based on their fertility? Hmm. Can't say I haven't thought about that before. Some really good characters here, and I like the fact that the book forces you to interpret so much for yourself.<br />
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<b>The BFG - Roald Dahl.</b> Another book club. I read this as a child but I don't think I appreciated the whimsical, funny, intelligent play with language before.<br />
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<b>My Story - Elizabeth Smart. </b>This book was so hard to read, because it is true and I remember it happening. I almost cannot believe that such evil exists in the world. I am amazed at how Elizabeth Smart handled this, and how she can write about it. When she came home, her mother told her not to spend time feeling sorry for herself, because that was just allowing her captor to steal more time from her. I think I would have been ticked if I had heard that. Sometimes we feel so justified in feeling sorry for ourselves. Um, I feel sorry for myself all the time. ALL THE TIME. But Elizabeth writes about how she just made a choice to find happiness, which is amazing after you read about the things that happened to her. It has given me new resolve to just not look for reasons to feel sorry for myself. It was also a beautiful reminder about how our God never leaves us comfortless.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-46314514055059202232017-08-29T11:15:00.002-07:002018-01-22T17:56:39.218-08:00Stuff We've Made for Our New House! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Greg and I have been over here gettin' our craft on for our new house. It has been crazy amounts of fun to build and make things for a place that is our very own. I even feel like I am more inclined to bake things totally from scratch than I was before because my kitchen is no longer itty bitty. And I have a CRAFT ROOM where my sewing machine is always set up, so I sew a little more often as well. I don't know why pulling out the sewing machine and putting it on the table was always such a deterrent to sewing before. I think I'm probably just lazy. </div>
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But anyway, I finally made this little plastic bag holder thing. I don't know about anyone else, but underneath my sink has always been a Moist Abyss of Plastic Bags. Where Walmart Goes to Die, if you will. Well, not anymore! Used a cute flour sack kitchen towel and hung this up in my (overflowing) pantry! Now I just pull one out whenever I want. </div>
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Greg has been very productive in our handy dandy new garage. Having a garage is all levels of awesome, I might add. Greg got a Kreg Jig for his birthday (at least I think that's what it's called. I dunno, something like that). So now he can make cute little pocket holes and build furniture left and right! This little bench was his first project and I think it is darling. If you ever need to find me and Greg on a Saturday, there's a good chance we will be at the neighborhood Lowe's, weeping and wailing and gnashing our teeth as we dig through the piles of lumber like a couple of crazy people looking for the best and straightest boards. Brynn just stares at us like, whatever parents. </div>
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Greg and I also got crafty and made this little hanging plant holder thingie. </div>
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I love it! Sometimes Pinterest is a wonderful thing. I just wanted something cute to put above our bed, and I love the look of green growing things all in a row. We fixed mason jars and hose clamps on this board and it is perfect! I even love the way the hose clamps look...kind of industrial-ly. Chic and rustic-ish. Obviously I have no idea what I'm talking about, but I do just really like this a lot. I didn't even buy anything to put in the mason jars, I just use clippings from my boxwood bushes. </div>
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I also made these curtains! Total cosh: $3. Not kidding. I used a pack of towels from Ikea, and I didn't even use all the towels.</div>
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I was going to take a bunch of picture showing how I did it, but that is just exhausting and so it didn't happen. And come on, no one wants to read my amateur sewing musings. Basically I just cut up the towels and pieced them back together to make it cute. </div>
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At first I didn't like how it turned out. I wanted them to be more full. But the longer I have them I think they are kind of perfect. Just simple. </div>
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You will notice in the above picture that my kitchen is a TOTAL WRECK right now. I mean, I'm not super prompt on the dishes but even I have some standards. Well, the kitchen is a mess because today Brynn and I canned salsa! </div>
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Canning is scary for me because I just feel like I am running around my kitchen burning my hands in hot water and spilling ingredients and re-reading the directions off the Ball website. I have no clue what I'm doing. Therefore, I proudly refer to the product above as "Botulism Salsa." Fingers crossed I don't kill my family. I figure the more I do it the easier it will be? That's gotta happen eventually right? </div>
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So we still have some furniture to make to fit the nooks and crannies of our new house, but it is really starting to come along. We had our first mini house crisis last night and I must say we came out of it extremely proud of ourselves. After we put Brynn to bed we realized the carpet in the hallway was damp...and just getting wetter. At first I thought Brynn had an accident on the sly but then we were like WHERE IS ALL THIS FLUID COMING FROM AND HOW COME IT WON'T GO AWAY. We started investigating our AC, which was leaking onto the foundation. After poking around and saying things like "Uh, I dunno, should we screw off that little plate thingie there?" to each other we figured out that our condensate pipe was backed up. Exactly how did anyone survive as a homeowner before the internet? It is a mystery to me. </div>
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Long story short, Greg ran to Lowe's and got a wet/dry vac and bright and early this morning we sucked out all the algae that had clogged the hose. We were like, YAY US!!! Apparently random algae is something that happens in Florida because of the crazy humidity. How are we supposed to know that? I'm from The Surface of the Sun, Arizona, for crying out loud. Anyway, we didn't have to call a repair person and now we own a shop vac! So win/win. </div>
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It is a lot of fun to experience these new things with my family. Adulting for our new house is pretty rewarding. </div>
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<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-80164539104377857242017-08-18T12:19:00.000-07:002018-01-22T17:57:16.658-08:00Birthday Girl! Someone had a birthday this week at the Zollinger home! Actually, two people have birthdays this week around here, because tomorrow Greg turns the big 2-9. Only one year til he reaches 30, people. This stuff is serious.<br />
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Anyway, all musings on how old Greg is getting aside, this little girl is now officially two! She talks up a storm. Anything that is small is called "baby." As in, when the rainstorm is ending, "Awww, baby thundah, toot!" Anything that is a baby is cute. She calls bows on her clothes butterflies, but only some of them, because, well, not all bows look like butterflies. She is starting to get old enough that she loves playing in her dresses and loves to choose them out herself. Her favorite foods are nacks (fruit snacks), anything with cheese in it, and tookey (turkey). Also she loves tandy (candy), it is so nummy (pretty sure you can guess that one). Anything remotely related to fruit is an apple. Also sometimes potatoes and beans are apples too. She LOVES swinging at the park and would do it all day if I would let her. She is also starting to do things like pretending to be different animals and crawling around the house roaring or whatever. It is so awesome to watch her spunky little personality unfold.<br />
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I still can't believe that she was born a whole 2 years ago. Time flies. She gave me a little present on her birthday and fell asleep in my arms before her nap. She hasn't done that in a long time but it was just what I needed to remind me that even though she's getting bigger, she will always be mine.<br />
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Last year Brynn was a bit confused about the whole unwrapping presents thing, but this year she dived right in. With her blankie, because...well, I'm not sure. We live in Florida. It's 1000 degrees with 939% humidity.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcctKm9EetaEde_vaUYdyH2YwJaqJq7CGMhHpp__oGcIdcfa1WCpwEGa5O8LHzB2f3O6wiSQAy9tC5X4hxYEeuCmvTl226KJ_7lEuC8EKukCMhLvBwAJ870EChdDtqkZYbL7gKJn0Yqis/s1600/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcctKm9EetaEde_vaUYdyH2YwJaqJq7CGMhHpp__oGcIdcfa1WCpwEGa5O8LHzB2f3O6wiSQAy9tC5X4hxYEeuCmvTl226KJ_7lEuC8EKukCMhLvBwAJ870EChdDtqkZYbL7gKJn0Yqis/s320/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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She got some bottles for her dolly, some books, a puzzle, and some clothes. So a pretty good haul. She also got this set for her dolly...a stroller, swing, and little bed. We spoil her I think. Oh well. She's really cute. SHE NEEDS PRESENTS. Plus, look how much she likes it! She loves anything that has to do with her baby. </div>
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Grandma and Grandpa also got her this little trike, which she found as soon as she woke up and loves. </div>
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She also got this little dress that I made. It was fun to do, although she still needs to grow into it a little bit. </div>
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Fishy cake! And baby fish cupcakes. </div>
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We had a little play group/party at the splash pad with some friends. Brynn refused to play in the splash pad, which was weird, but again, there were swings there, and swinging is life. </div>
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It was a great day to celebrate our little Brynn Eliza. </div>
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I don't mean to get overly sentimental here, but this little girl really saved me two years ago. She was the first child I got to take home with me, the first one I fed, the first one I woke in the dark to hold. We are learning and growing together and I love her so much it almost aches. She is beautiful and strong and sweet...one of my friends called her fierce, and that fits her. Well, Brynn girl, I love you fiercely, so maybe that is where you learned it. </div>
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-770737001218647577.post-38862701608330527422017-07-25T12:19:00.005-07:002017-07-25T12:22:19.741-07:00Books 2017 - Post 4 I've gotten a little behind blogging about books with our move and everything, so here's a little catch up post!<br />
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<b>Babylon's Ark - Lawrence Anthony. </b>This was written by the same guy who wrote the book about elephants on his game reserve. When the Iraq War came to Baghdad, Anthony hopped on a plane to save the Baghdad Zoo. He was the first civilian allowed into the city, and even though a high percentage of the animals had been killed by bombs or killed for food by rampant looters, Anthony was able to save most of the remaining animals, including a herd of man-eating lions who had been kept in Saddam's palace. This book gives an interesting perspective about how war touches civilian lives.<br />
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<b>A Walk in the Woods - Bill Bryson.</b> So I can't decide if I liked this book or not. Bryson writes about attempting to walk the 2000+ miles of the Appalachian Trail, which stretches from Georgia to Maine. I loved the parts about the trail's history because there were some fun little tidbits of American folklore. But guess what? They don't even hike the whole trail, and at the end of the book, the author is like, "We got to know the trail and spent a lot of time on the trail so we basically hiked it." Um, no you didn't.<br />
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<b>Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury. </b>A Zollinger Book Club book. I thought some of Bradbury's observations about technology in culture were so spot-on. I didn't find myself really drawn to the characters but this book really makes you think. So many nuggets of wisdom. I will always remember how at the end of the book, the keepers of the literature head back to help those in a city that has just been totally bombed out. They are the only ones who remember Shakespeare, and the Bible, but rescuing humanity is more important, ultimately, than safeguarding the books. Books and literature are only valuable if they help us remember and learn what is really important.<br />
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<b>Flags of Our Fathers - James Bradley.</b> A good book to read around Independence Day. This book is about the six flag-bearers who put up a flag on Mount Suribachi. The picture that was taken became iconic for so much more.<br />
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Three of the men who raised the flag were killed within days. Sometimes we only hear the life stories of the men who came back from war, so I think it's important to learn about the background of common soldiers who didn't come back too. The twist here is that just a few years ago, they figured out that the man whose son wrote the book was mis-identified, and wasn't actually in the picture. </div>
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<b>Angela's Ashes - Frank McCourt.</b> A pulitzer prize winning memoir about a boy growing up poor in Ireland in the 1930s and 40s. I love memoirs, but this one got rather crass at the end and seemed to lose substance to me as it did so. I skipped a few parts, but the coming of age story was memorable.<br />
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<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01940193140033260260noreply@blogger.com0