tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3134364272804685352024-02-20T23:25:22.916-06:00Letters From Minmindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.comBlogger478125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-66956397091965244942015-11-27T15:33:00.000-06:002015-12-05T15:43:26.641-06:00Dear Bo, Six...<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know why it’s such a surprise to me each time I
write this letter that you are another year older.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So yet again, I find myself shaking my head saying, “I can’t believe
you’re 6.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Six.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The infant years are behind us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The toddler years are behind us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now the preschool years are behind
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve entered the grade school
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I think of your life in
seasons, I can almost hyperventilate thinking that only the middle school years
and high school years separate us from the empty nest years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What they say about time is true…it keeps
marching on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was so anxious about the start of kindergarten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thought of you being with people who did
not love you unconditionally, who did not give you the benefit of the doubt,
who did not know your idiosyncrasies…it terrified me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I looked at a list of things you should
know before kindergarten…well, many of them I was unsure about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ironically, it wasn’t the academic stuff that
panicked me, but the things like “open your capri sun and lunchable by yourself”
“button and unzip your pants by yourself” “wipe by yourself”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These things kept me up at night!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silly mommy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’ve done so well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You love
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You love not only learning, but
all of it…recess, your friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And from
what I can tell from feedback from your teachers…you’re kind and a good friend
to your classmates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That makes my heart
soar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can be the best student in the
world, the best athlete, the best everything…but ultimately I want you to be
kind to others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>School (heck…life) can
be a hard place…but it’s less so when people are kind to each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They also say you’re an enthusiastic
learner…I’m so glad about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s
a lot of learning to do (long beyond your school years); enthusiasm will help!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have mostly passed through your love of trains phase and
have crossed into Lego devotion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
love to build.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You like to build with
instructions, but mostly you like to make your own “inventions”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re creative and persistent with your
Legos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You go to a Lego class and love it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are a great bike rider and also like riding your
scooter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You aren’t really into sports,
but you do like to hit tennis balls with Daddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You like to draw and color (only since kinder started!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You love to read, be read to, sing, and make
up stories (and listen to other people make up stories!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are a good big brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You and Kate warm my heart together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sure, you get frustrated with each other and argue and bicker
sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But…when you’re on, you’re
on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You hug, and say kind things to each
other, and play together well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
worshipped my older brother and had such a sweet relationship with him when we
lived at home, I love seeing that in you two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have such a sweet spirit, Bo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pray that your heart stays soft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are eager to please, tender towards
others’ feelings, and just so expressive with your love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can be hard headed and defiant, too…can’t
we all?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But mostly, I would just
describe you as enthusiastic, kind, full of joy, and loving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our nighttime routine is to sing “I’ve Got
the Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy Down in My Heart”, pray, tell a story, and sing “Jesus
Loves Me”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time you sing about the
joy in your heart, I think how true that song is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are just joy personified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a momma who has struggled to embrace joy,
it’s a beautiful thing to witness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love you, son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
so glad that of all the little boys in the whole world, God gave me you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-30221928070404488022015-07-22T22:43:00.000-05:002015-10-14T13:51:27.517-05:00Katie Bug, It's your third birthday... I expected the changes that came with a second child when you entered this world three years ago today, but I never could have imagined how many twists and turns the last 3 years would take...death, cancer, career changes, moves, personal awakenings, the redemption of relationships. In many ways, the mother that held you three years ago is a stranger to the mother chasing after you now. Mercifully, what felt like a world being turned upside down, was really a world being turned right side up. Some of these events merely coincided with your arrival; others were inspired by it. When I look at you, I'll always be reminded of faithfulness, mercy, grace, and redemption. <br />
<br />
You are sweet, with just the right amount of ornery. You are curious and smart, loving, downright funny, full of spunk, and impossibly loved. Mothering you is an outrageous blessing.<br />
<br />
You are right in the 50th percentile for height and weight. You have a preference on what you wear, and if you don't want to wear something, you call it "scratchy". You talk a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. You say the "fr" sound for "tr" (fruck for truck, free for tree), the "k" sounds for "t" (tate for Kate), and the "y" sound for "l" (yori for Lori). I adore it. You love to color and write (and can hold a pencil quite well!). You love baby dolls and are getting into dress up (but are very selective about the dress up clothes you wear--can't be scratchy). You want to play in my makeup and are just all around girly. Your favorite color is pink (you are very interested in what everyone's favorite color is). You get really obsessed with random stuff (lately it's been rocks and bars of soap and miniature anything). Your favorite stuffed animal is a stuffed cat that Mimi bought you, aptly named Cat-Cat. You love the Corolle doll I bought you for your first birthday. It's "well loved" (i.e. filthy), and you call it "dirty baby". I bought you a Corolle doll you can wash for Christmas. It's clean so you call it "church baby" or "pretty baby". <br />
<br />
You love Bo...most of the time. You can really give him the business when you're not happy with him, but mostly you want to do just what he's doing. This means you like legos, Paw Patrol, Peppa Pig, ninja turtles, and rescue bots. I'm interested to see what your taste is when he's not at home to influence it this fall when he goes to kindergarten. You love your daddy. You are so excited when he's home and just generally crawl up in his lap whenever you want. You like to get him to play dress up with you and are super frustrated that he doesn't fit into a princess dress. <br />
<br />
I'm pleased to say that you're really a momma's girl though. You usually want me to put you down and give you a bath and almost always ask me to "snuggle with you" at bedtime. <br />
<br />
You are such a firecracker, feisty girl of mine. Words we often use to describe you are: pistol, firecracker, spunky, hot mess, and "something else". But you have this tender side that shines through at exactly the moment it needs to. You are really the most illogical mix of tough and tender...in fact, the only person I have ever known like you is me. It's a strange, redemptive blessing seeing me in you. In discovering you and loving you, I've rediscovered and learned to love me. The Lord is so creative and kind to teach me self love through you...He must have known it was the only way. I pray we help you channel all that determination and independence into being just who you were created to be. <br />
<br />
Katherine Morgan, you are a million blessings wrapped into 30 pounds. Mothering you and your brother is a joyful, hair pulling, fun, crazy privilege. You are absolutely adored. Happy birthday. I am so glad you arrived three years ago. We'll never be the same.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
{Your first week} </div>
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{One year}</div>
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{Two years}</div>
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{Three years}</div>
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-54461447290530135132015-01-21T14:22:00.000-06:002015-02-06T15:42:30.352-06:00Dear Pop-Pop, Here I am again around my birthday...Last time I felt the urge to write to you <a href="http://www.lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2012/10/dear-pop-pop-ive-been-thinking-about-you.html">was a little over two years ago</a>. There's just something about your glory day and my birthday that impresses you so strongly on my heart. I turned 37 on the 12th. Your 29th glory day was on the 5th. I've been thinking about you so much.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2012/10/dear-pop-pop-ive-been-thinking-about-you.html">Last time I wrote</a>, I was so bothered that you missed so much. That you died when Daddy was so young (a few months shy of 37). That there was so much of us you missed out on. That there was so much of you we missed out on. That your oldest grandchild was in the 7th grade. That your youngest were just toddlers. I've struggled a lot with that.<br />
<br />
But when I wrote you last, I didn't know that that very spring, we'd find out Daddy had advanced prostate cancer. That we'd use words like "probabilities"and "incurable". That Daddy's oldest granddaughter would be in 6th grade. That his youngest would be a baby. That I would be 35 with a new baby and a 3 year old. That I would arrange babysitters and drive to doctor's appointments and hop on flights to doctor's appointments. That I would read thick books with lots of medical jargon. That I would call anyone who could give me information. That I would be bone tired from being up with a baby and muster the energy to read, to research, to pray. I learned more about Daddy at 36 then. That he loved you fiercely, which is how he soldiered on through your death while transitioning a business, farming, raising 4 young kids with Mother, taking care of Granny, and being a big brother to his siblings. That staying busy was essential to survive heartache. That pouring himself into business was a way to feel productive and in control when there was so much around him spinning wildly out of control that he could do little about. (Oh? Am I projecting?)<br />
<br />
I learned that while there was a lot you have missed, your life was not cut short. Your life was fulfilled. In the early days of Daddy's diagnosis, I was in the rawest stage of denial. I couldn't sleep. I had one obsessive compulsive thought that would not stop..."This can't happen. It's not real." I spent many hours, days, weeks reading medical literature, contacting medical facilities, talking with doctors trying to find a "way out". There was none. And true to my nature, when I exhausted my abilities (as menial as they were) and satisfied my mind that I could not change it, I went into acceptance mode. And strangely, I felt a weird peace that I'm so glad has continued. It is this...Daddy has a great life. He is married to a woman he adores, and she knows that. His wife loves him like crazy in return, and he knows that. He is living his dreams of owning land and cattle and running businesses with his two sons. He has two daughters who dote on him, and now he even has six granddaughters to pick up where we leave off. He has six grandsons, four who share his last name, 3 who live on his land. He loves his community and works to make an impact there. He loves his church and invests his time there. He has strong, deep friendships. He has hobbies that he actively participates in. He is a blessed man. And the best part? He. Knows. It. I heard him say to each doctor he met, "I have so much to live for." He is not a man who has overlooked his blessings. He's not a man who hasn't been told "thank you" "I'm sorry" "I love you" by his friends, his children, and his wife. He's not a man who has untold "thank yous" "I'm sorrys" and "I love yous". We all know. And I couldn't (and can't) help but feel really peaceful that when he takes his last breath (be it in 10 days or 10 years), that the sum of his years will be a life fully lived, not a life cut short. A life FULL. A life FILLED. A life fulfilled.<br />
<br />
So I guess I want to say I'm sorry. I rushed to judgment about your life cut short. While I'll never stop selfishly wishing it was longer so I could have known you more, I'll spend less time dwelling on what it wasn't and instead be thankful for what it was...full and filled. We can talk more about it on my glory day. Until then, know that I love you and still think of you.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-5.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-5.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-50247116805143067332014-11-27T15:11:00.000-06:002015-02-06T15:34:32.923-06:00Dear Bo, Your fifth birthday letter...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five years old--such a milestone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The year you will start kindergarten…and your
little world will expand to things outside of our family of four and our
home…outside of the things we choose for you to experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am so simultaneously excited and
apprehensive about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am struck
this year, even more than the previous four, by just how good we have it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By just how simple our life is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By how much control we have over what you are
exposed to, what you hear, what you see, and how this year will be our first
experience on losing that little by little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Struck by how this is the last little window of time when you can be
100% kid---nowhere to be, no responsibilities or obligations, just a little 5
year old boy who can spend his day in his jammies playing legos, swords, watching
cartoons, eating goldfish on a whim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>About what a blessing it is to be able to bear witness to these things 4
days a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
If I could go back in time, I would tell myself to
chill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To calm the heck down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To worry less about my career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To worry less about your language and social
development and exposure to great preschools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But then I think about the blessing of being able to afford a great
nanny for you and a great speech therapist and the huge blessing of being able
to define the terms of my career now so I can maximize my time with you and your sister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I think about how bright you are and how much you like to learn, and
I wonder if we would be where we are without all of that worry and relentless
persistence I’m notorious for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the
age old motherhood question…are my children as they are because of me or in
spite of me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little bit of both I
presume though I’ll never know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About
the only thing I know about motherhood for sure is that it is done out of the
fiercest, rawest, most desperate love imaginable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
We are just crazy about you, Bo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are so darn lovable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are quick to smile and giggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are still so affectionate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You pass out hugs and kisses and sit in our
laps and hold our hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dread that
changing the most as you start school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You are verbal about your love, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You say ‘I love you’ and ‘I missed you’ multiple times a day
unprompted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are so much like your
dad that way.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
You are particular and a kid who likes to know the routine
and stick with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You ask everyday what
we’re doing and remember which day is for what (church, daddy staying home all
day, preschool, etc.).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have in your
mind how something should work/go and when it doesn’t, you get very, very
frustrated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the growling is gone
(your previous go to method for expressing frustration), but you still get very
upset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your little heart races and you
are just exasperated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You like to do
things “right” (your idea of it any way), and when things don’t go your way,
you’re quick to give up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Son, I hope we
figure that out together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see so much
of me in you in that way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look back on
things I really wanted that I gave up on because I didn’t measure up (in my own
mind).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I can work on your heart with
one thing this year, it will be to stick with it, and to be easier on yourself
when things don’t go exactly as you have in mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are so many life experiences waiting
for you to just enjoy; not because you’re the best at them, but because they
are inherently enjoyable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want those
things for you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Notwithstanding your love of routine and predictability, you
have been an absolute champ through two moves this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have slept wonderfully in both houses,
have started a new school with ease, have jumped into a new routine, have
transitioned to a new Awana program, new Bible classes as we’ve visited different
churches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not be more proud and
relieved at the way you’ve handled it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It reminds me that ultimately, our little family is your world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if we can keep that constant and healthy
for you, things happening outside of that will have a gentler
impact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are a big kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
shake my head at the 5 pounder we brought home who took forever to get on the
growth chart and stayed in the 10<sup>th</sup> percentile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are solid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are built so much like your daddy, right
down to your flat feet and especially your hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have so many of his mannerisms and
expressions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You furrow your brow the
same way and carry yourself the same way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You have a head full of hair and a contagious smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are intuitive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
much so that it worries me a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was an intuitive child, and I’m not sure it boded well for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You pick up on our moods and internalize them
often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I’m frustrated or angry about
something that has nothing to do with you kiddos (work or something else), you
pick up on it and ask me if I’m happy with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sweet boy, I hope to work on your heart about this too this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s great to have an intuition about other’s
feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will be a better man with
empathy and compassion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But people will
have feelings and say things and act out, sometimes at you, when it really
won’t have anything to do with you at all. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pray I can channel your intuitiveness into
a positive thing and help steer you to a place where you don’t internalize too
much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had one of the sweetest moments with you recently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We read The Giving Tree together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The story goes that a little boy loves to
play with a tree by his house, and the tree loves the little boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tree cheerfully gives and gives to the
little boy and the little boy takes and takes until the tree thinks it has
nothing left to give, as it’s been reduced to a stump from giving so much to
the little boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet in that moment, as
the little boy has grown into a tired aged man, all he needs is a low place to
sit and rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I finished, I looked
up, and your lip was quivering and your eyes were full and the tears started
falling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was shocked that you would
pick up on the sweetness and profoundness of the story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked you what was wrong, and you kept saying
that the boy just kept taking and there was nothing left of the tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were so upset about it, and it took
awhile to console you, but we had the sweetest talk about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was such a special moment for me because
meaningful books and <u>you</u> are two of my favorite things, and in that
moment, they intersected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have such
a soft heart, son. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A soft, beautiful
heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If only I could protect it…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You love to be tickled, to read, to sing songs and be sung
to, to play with Brody and your other cousins, to visit the farm, to do
anything with Daddy, to play with Kate (you are such a good brother), to sit in
my lap and sing/read/watch movies with me, to play pretend anything, to make up
stories and games, to play legos (but not build the items in the directions…you
prefer to make your own “latest inventions”).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You love to watch Ninja Turtles, Rescue Bots, How to Train Your Dragon,
Planes Fire & Rescue (earlier in the year, it was Paw Patrol and Peppa Pig).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You love playing with your sister, but you
have a very specific idea of how she should play with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re hands on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You like to build train tracks, car tracks,
Lincoln Logs, marble runs, and anything Lego related.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re not much for writing or coloring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are all little boy now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That was true at 4, too, but it’s even more so now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You are so fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The things you
say and want to talk about delight me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I think of you, I think of how much you delight me for no other
reason than being just who you are, I think about how much joy you bring to my
life, and I think about what pure grace you are to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mothering you and your sister is the most
significant thing I have ever done and will ever do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That God would allow me the privilege remains
a mystery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t wait to see what this
next year brings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever it is, we’ll
face it together.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
I love you. (To the moon…and back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To infinity…and beyond.) <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-4653049328272769822014-07-22T15:05:00.000-05:002015-02-06T15:05:53.932-06:00Dear Kate, Your second birthday letter...<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<style> </style>Two?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Already?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like your first two years have flown;
they have been full of so much transition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I look at you, you represent to me something so huge; it’s hard to
even put it into words, but I’m going to try…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never imagined I would have a daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was scared to even hope for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never been that good at being a “proper
woman” (whatever that means), and I knew that God would not entrust me with a
little girl to mold into a “proper woman”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was far too deep a thinker even at an early age, always preoccupied
with serious things it felt like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wasn’t a good “girls’ girl”, but wasn’t really a “guys’ girl” either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I always felt a little awkward, a little out
of place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve always had ambitions that
weren’t very feminine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve tried to be
really good at “girl things”, but my heart hasn’t really been in them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t imagine that I would be anything
but a disservice to a little girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
the most amazing thing happened…He believed in me and gave me you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And loving you has somehow made me love me;
something I’ve failed to do for far too long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And loving you has made me love being a woman and has even made me
realize I’ve put far too many quotation marks around being a woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve realized I love, love dressing you and
doing your hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love making your room
sweet and feminine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love painting your
toenails and fingernails and pretending to put makeup on you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love playing baby dolls with you and
telling you you are beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
looking forward to molding you not into a “proper woman”, but into the woman He
created you to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in the process,
I’m finally giving myself permission to embrace the woman He created me to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You inspire me so.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are such a beautiful little girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are petite and blonde and have beautiful
blue eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have to work for grins and
giggles, but they are delightful when you indulge us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are skeptical of people and don’t dole out
affection without some time and thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You are a little sassy sometimes and a lot feisty most of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You love your brother but can be harsh with him, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You do a mighty mean, “No, sir” if he’s
displeased you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are not the best
sleeper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You insist on us staying in
your rocking chair until you’re asleep in your crib.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve slept with us many times, forcing me
to eat my words on that topic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You love most anything your brother’s into (trains, planes,
swords).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You also love babies (real and
play), Bubble Guppies, Frozen, and playing with your pretend kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You like to climb, hang on things, and you
are quite the talker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will try to
say almost anything and already speak in short sentences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You like to sing, but it has to be your idea
(as is true with most anything where you’re concerned).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love your sweet voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You clasp your hands when we pray, and it
overwhelms me with gratitude that you’re mine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love you, sweet girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have no idea how to mother a daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have no idea how to be a “proper woman”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I absolutely adore you, and I’ll stay on
my knees looking for direction on how to help you be the amazing little lady He
created you to be.</div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-53831529485254407702013-11-27T15:08:00.000-06:002015-02-06T15:45:52.116-06:00Dear Bo, Your fourth birthday letter...<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Happy 4th birthday, my little preschooler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t believe you aren’t a toddler
anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have loved your toddler
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so excited to see what this
year will bring though; so many people have said “4” is a fun year!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your language just amazes me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have come so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You say the funniest things, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I described you in just a few words, they
would be funny, happy, and loving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
are the most loving little boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
constantly hug us, kiss us (and rub it in!), want to sit in our laps, and say
“I love you” and “I missed you” when we return from work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your transition to primer at St. Andrew’s has been
wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were headstrong the first
several weeks about getting in line and keeping your hands to yourself, but
then you fell in step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have lots of
friends, and the teachers are fond of you (and you are of them, too!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You love your sister and are such a good big brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have taken this whole big brother thing
in stride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You refer to her as “baby
sister”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“baby Kate” or just “my
sister”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s so sweet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve gotten frustrated as she’s gotten more
mobile and into your things, but mostly, I think you’ve enjoyed a playmate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You adore Jeanne and her family, and you love going to the
farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You love going to church and
seeing Mrs. Amy and going to children’s church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Your favorite friends are Jack, Simon and Evie (from school), Beau and
Jayleigh (from church), Caleb, and Claire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’re a social little guy (like your daddy).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You get really frustrated when you can’t do something or
something doesn’t go your way immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You growl, cross your arms over your chest and pout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re working on this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have gone through a lot of phases of things you love
this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your devotion to Thomas
remains, but it has lessened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
transitioned to a Team Umizoomi obsession, were quite into all things Cars, and
now are into Planes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your birthday party was so bittersweet this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have such a neat circle of people who
love you—the Vanderpools and the Tomlinsons especially.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are so many families with littles your
age that I took for granted that I’d raise you with…the Roberts, McPhersons,
Bensons, Browns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To see them all in the
same place celebrating you for the last time was a sweet moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have been loved so well here, Bo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You bring me indescribable joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your blue eyes, thick head of hair, precious
hands, belly laugh, easy affection, loving words, and strong spirit slay
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I made a list of all the
qualities I wish my son had, I could never have listed all that you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are beyond my imagination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That you are mine is a gift I’ll never stop
thanking Him for.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can’t wait to see what 4 will bring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1, 2, and 3 brought more than I knew to hope
for.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-84250087236669247312013-07-22T11:43:00.001-05:002013-07-22T11:43:00.921-05:00Dear Kate, Your first birthday letter...One year ago today, you introduced our family to pink, and we'll never be the same. <br />
<br />
Maybe it was your temperament, or maybe it was me being a more relaxed second time momma, or maybe it was a result of flat out necessity (I suspect it's a little of all 3), but you transitioned into our family with such ease (please understand that's not to say it was easy). Your brother was accepting of you from the start. He surprised me by vascillating between indifference and adoration. Occasionally, he'd ask us to put you down or insist on sitting on the boppy while I nursed you, but mostly, he didn't miss a beat when you joined us. Hearing him call you Baby Sister/Baby Kate and say, "Awww....she's so cute!" are among some of my favorite memories this year. <br />
<br />
Those first few weeks are so precious to me. We had lots of help from Mimi and Lori and her girls. Of your first 6 weeks, I think we got to see Mimi and Pop each one. They were and are over the moon for you, their "little caboose". You will no doubt be spoiled rotten since you are the youngest grandbaby on each side. Your older cousins are so sweet with you and fuss over you. <br />
<br />
You were such an easy nurser, and I nursed you for 11 months so we spent lots of 1 on 1 time together, especially in the wee hours of the morning. I tried to soak it in, as you may be my last baby. I hope I don't soon forget the sweet little sounds you made nursing or your hands up over your eyes and face.<br />
<br />
I spent a lot less time documenting this year than I hoped. But I tried not to beat myself up because I was truly enjoying it. I rocked a little longer in the evening instead of obsessing over organizing pictures or blogging. And sometimes just collapsed from the tiredness that comes from having a 3 year old, infant, and full time job.<br />
<br />
Your first year was full of transitions. We said good-bye to sweet Mary, had career changes, had some personal awakenings that changed our course and some harsh reminders that mortality is real....so many distractions that I sometimes worry your infancy year was overshadowed by grief, worries, and decision making. But I know so many of the changes/awakenings will result in a stronger family for us so I try not to dwell on it. You have been a bright light amid it all. A reminder that He makes all things new, that the circle of life is beautiful, even if brutal. There is nothing that can bring a smile and perspective like a sweet smelling, smiling baby girl.<br />
<br />
Your brother made me a momma, but you have made me a girl momma. I have enjoyed so much monogramming bloomers, shopping for smocked clothes and pinafores, buying mary janes and tights, and finding matching bows. There is such a sweetness and tenderness baby girls bring, and you have brought that to our home. It is God's grace to me that I now see baby dolls intertwined with trains and trucks.<br />
<br />
You make me want to be a better woman, a better role model to you and your peers. You've made me rethink body shapes and self image and women's roles. You've made me think hard on issues I've never really much cared about. I want so many good things for you and want so much to shape you with a healthy self image so that you can avoid so many of the struggles I've wrestled with . I'm realizing that teaching you to be kind to yourself means I need to start being kinder to myself.<br />
<br />
Thank you for so softly landing in our family. Thank you for sharing us with your big brother. Thank you for being a snuggler and loving to rock; it was my best therapy many days. Thank you for being drawn to Pop and giving him smiles and kisses when he needed them. Thank you for being drawn to baby dolls and reminding me of so many fun days playing dolls with Aunt Lori. Thank you for giving sugar readily, for grinning so wide, for singing after we've stopped, for bouncing when you're happy, and for shaking your head wildly when you're simpled out. Thank you for inspiring me to be better and kinder. Thank you for reminding me that even when it feels like things are spinning out of control, that they're just things and relationships are what really matter.<br />
<br />
I shook my head in disbelief when God graced me with Bo, and that He's doubled my graces by entrusting me with you will always amaze me. I lathered you in Baby Magic last night, rocked you to sleep, inhaled your sweet scent and watched you rub your silky blanket, and thought, "My goodness. I have a daughter." I did the same thing countless times the first week you came home. May I never stop being mindful and grateful of the blessing of mothering you.<br />
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Happy birthday, Katherine Morgan. I love you so much.<br />
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{1 week}</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i7dzl6GdOEM/Ue07XdMrswI/AAAAAAAAMaw/DSfl3iNjBIY/s1600/DSC_0415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i7dzl6GdOEM/Ue07XdMrswI/AAAAAAAAMaw/DSfl3iNjBIY/s400/DSC_0415.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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{1 year}</div>
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-28804338426424658362012-12-31T22:33:00.003-06:002012-12-31T23:06:34.361-06:002012 Highlights...<div style="text-align: center;">
{January}</div>
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Cotton Bowl at Jerry World</div>
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A visit from the Browns</div>
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{February}</div>
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A trip to Austin and stay at the Hyatt Lost Pines</div>
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A day trip to our beloved Aggieland</div>
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A visit to the Cole's</div>
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{March}</div>
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<span id="goog_1042748267"></span><span id="goog_1042748268"></span>Finding out it's a girl!<br />
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Taking off a few days for March madness and chilling<br />
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A visit from the Pratts<br />
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Spending tons of time "driving" in our cars<br />
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Moving to a big boy bed<br />
<br />
{April}<br />
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Easter at the farm</div>
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A trip to Albuquerque to the zoo and aquarium</div>
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Potty training</div>
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{May}</div>
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Mother's Day at the Canadian River Music Festival<br />
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Graduating from the Mom-Pop-Tot class at ADGC<br />
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A visit to the Browns<br />
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{June}<br />
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Baby shower for Baby Girl<br />
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Jones family celebrating Baby Girl<br />
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{July}<br />
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Watching the Canyon parade (followed by an awful bout of salmonella)<br />
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Watching Bo become a big brother<br />
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Welcoming Baby Kate<br />
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Lots of visits from Mimi and Pop<br />
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{August}<br />
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A visit from the Browns<br />
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A visit from the Coles<br />
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A weekend at the farm<br />
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{September}<br />
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First day of school<br />
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A visit from Donna and Zac<br />
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Saying good-bye<br />
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Another trip to Albuquerque to the zoo and aquarium (this time with Baby Sister)<br />
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A trip to see the Cole's<br />
<br />
{October}<br />
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A visit from GranDa and GranNana<br />
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Baby Sister's first day of school<br />
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A trip to Aggieland to see the LSU game and to celebrate our 12th anniversary<br />
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A visit to the Pumpkin patch<br />
<br />
{November}<br />
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Seeing Santa</div>
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Thanksgiving and Bo's birthday with cousins at the farm</div>
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3!</div>
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{December}</div>
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More celebrating!</div>
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Lots of Christmas outfits and pictures</div>
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Christmas as a family of four</div>
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Santaland</div>
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Polar Express with our train obsessed little guy</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nU0ME4PKOlM/UOJsi0b7AFI/AAAAAAAALdw/Qlc3S6YRkp8/s1600/DSC_0334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nU0ME4PKOlM/UOJsi0b7AFI/AAAAAAAALdw/Qlc3S6YRkp8/s400/DSC_0334.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Christmas at the Farm</div>
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Our cup runneth over this year!</div>
<br /></div>
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-5.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-5.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-77436211569538684832012-11-27T15:33:00.002-06:002015-02-06T15:19:26.099-06:00Dear Bo, Your Third Birthday Letter....<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dear Bo,</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Happy third birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Three?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just like in years’ past, I find myself wondering where the time has
gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s comforting to know that I
know where it went and how it was spent…</span></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was spent swaddling and reswaddling and pacing the
floors.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent with a little bundled burrito sleeping (or more
often not sleeping) on our chest.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent watching and waiting for and finally reveling
in that first smile, first giggle, first roll over, first step, and first word.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent smiling as you found your hands, your feet,
your favorite book, favorite cartoon, and favorite words.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent crying as you struggled to eat and sleep.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent saying over and over, “he’s so cute”, “he’s so
sweet”, “he’s such a good boy” "do you need to go potty?" "stop" "give me sugar" "say please" and "do you know how much Momma loves you?".</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent taking deep breaths when you had/have tantrums,
throw things, and say “no” over and over.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent speeding up so you could get a better look at
the “big truck”, pointing out choo-choo trains, singing our ABC’s, learning
colors and shapes, and repeating prayers.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was spent laughing at the words you put together and the
funny things you do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I often think “someday I’m going to miss this”, and it
brings me comfort to know that I’m aware of what I have that I’ll miss <i>and</i> that
I know I’ll miss it every bit as much as I think I will.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This year has been so full of changes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve learned so many things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am astounded by how your vocabulary and
communication skills have grown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That we
can have a conversation blows my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’ve transformed from this needy (albeit darling) little toddler into
a little boy developing independence (albeit still needy) who I’m developing an
actual relationship with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s so
frustrating and hilarious and beautiful at the same time!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You still are so affectionate and loving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are always asking where we are if we
aren’t in the room/home/etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You still
say our name with such excitement when we come in the room even if we only
walked out a few minutes/seconds before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You love to climb in our lap and freely give sugar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can say “love you!” and do so often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You frequently say thank you spontaneously,
which warms my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can “read” a
few books, and it tickles me to no end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And fuh-gedd-about-it when you pray; I am dizzy with Momma love for
sure.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You are a thick little guy and have days/weeks where you eat
everything in sight and days/weeks where you’re not interested in much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You love to kick a ball around with Daddy
outside, swing, read books, sing songs, play with play-doh, play with trains,
matchbox cars, and any other vehicle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You love Cat in the Hat and Bubble Guppies still, but have developed
quite an affection for Thomas the Train and Team Umizoomi, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your favorite movies are Finding Nemo, Cars,
Toy Story, Ice Age, and Madagascar.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You are a good big brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You have shown very little effects of our love multiplying to include
your little sister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are sweet with
her, call her “baby sister” (not Kate), ask where she is when she’s not in the
room, and love to push on her belly button.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She watches you and smiles at you; I know she’ll be crazy about you, too. I had such a special relationship with my big brother; I pray the same for you two.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You are so loving and so loved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goodness gracious you are loved, child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Happy birthday, little buddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t wait to see what we learn together in
year four.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-48862494670979697962012-11-02T08:28:00.000-05:002012-11-02T08:28:00.313-05:00Dear Bo, Pumpkin Farm 2012...
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You had so much fun <a href="http://www.lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-bo-pumpkin-farm-2011.html">last year </a>that we knew we had to go back this year! <br />
<br />
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{Hay ride} </div>
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{You liked the hay ride to the pumpkin patch and kept talking about seeing "a whole BUNCH of 'punkins'!!" You have so much enthusiasm it kills me!}</div>
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{Tire climbing was fun, too} </div>
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{You loved climbing the hill over and over to go on the slides 'through the tunnels'.} </div>
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{I had to see how tall you were this year.} </div>
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{Hard to believe this was you last year.}</div>
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{The cow train was still a favorite.} </div>
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{As was riding the wagons with Daddy} </div>
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{You're always one to sit on a tractor, but you kept saying, "it not working!"}</div>
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{You were a champ at the obstacle course.} </div>
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{But your favorite was the bouncy area, which was cool to see because last year you were too scared to even get on it.} </div>
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{Sissy was a champ. This was the only time she was awake. The rest of the time she slept in the Baby Bjorn. Such a good girl!}</div>
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Can't wait to go back next year and see what you and Kate will be in to then!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-57105188597181032082012-10-30T08:32:00.000-05:002012-10-30T08:32:00.536-05:00Dear Kate, There's just something about bobby socks and Mary Janes...
<br />I love dressing a little girl so much more than I imagined I would! Monogrammed everything, matching bows, bubble pants, Mary Janes, and eyelet bobby socks? Be still my heart! <br />
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-18071542426601829712012-10-29T09:14:00.001-05:002012-10-29T09:15:33.012-05:00Dear Reader, My Aggies...<div style="text-align: left;">
When we went to College Station last weekend, I knew just exactly what shirt Bo would be getting...the one with the tractor, of course! Lucky me, it came Daddy-sized, too! </div>
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{My handsome boys}</div>
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{Baby Sister can't be left out} </div>
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{And, of course, she has a hair bow to match (courtesy of Aunt Lori)!} </div>
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Gig 'em!<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-25766607925234141262012-10-10T22:17:00.000-05:002012-10-29T09:56:40.302-05:00Dear Pop-Pop, I've been thinking about you...I think it's because I'm turning 35 soon. And even though I wish it weren't so, when I think of my birthday, I think "he died 7 days before my birthday and was buried 5 days before my birthday". It was my first thought when they told me you died that January before I turned 8. I looked up your birthday because I wanted to start remembering when you entered this world, not when you left it. You would have been 85 years old. I know we'd have thrown you a party.<br />
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35. My dad was just 36 when you died, a couple of months shy of 37. A young wife. 4 young children. <br />
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I wonder when he had time to grieve. Between farming, transitioning to the business, trying to be a husband and a father. When did he get to have a good old ugly cry about his daddy being gone? <br />
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My husband's grandmother passed last month. I know he needed/needs support, but we have a 2 year old and a newborn. And they need to eat and potty and get baths...and some days that's all I can do. I hate that I'm not more available for emotional support. I imagine my mom felt like that times two. 4 young kids when you moved on.<br />
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So much time has passed...26 years. <i>26 years. </i>How can that be? How can so much have happened that you were not apart of? I keep thinking that you've missed so much. But then I remember...God knew the exact number of your days. He knew they were from exactly October 10, 1927-January 5, 1986. You lived exactly as long as He knew you would. You didn't miss anything. You had your time here and though we are missing things with you, you are fulfilling your greater plan there. <br />
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I can't help but look at my Bo and my Kate and imagine you as their great-grandfather here. When I named my son Bozeman, would you have thought that was the best? Would you have smiled with pride that he carried your last name as his own? Would you have rocked my Kate and patted my dad's back as he called her "the caboose"? Would you have bought her a red dress?<br />
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Oh, and the rest of them. I have to believe you would...<br />
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<ul>
<li>Have been in the waiting room when Lori was in labor with Brileigh. Your first grandchild having your first greatgrandbaby. You would have been over the moon. I bet you would have bought Lori a beautiful bouquet of flowers (don't worry...Daddy did). And when Brileigh grew up and started playing sports, I imagine you'd give her $2 (was it $2?) after the game. And Kamryn? Oh, man, you would love her. The way she works outside would remind you of her Momma. I bet you'd tell her stories of you taking her momma fishing. And when finally little Brody came along, you'd tell Lori how glad you are that she had a son, too. </li>
<li>Have given Derek a cigar and patted him on the back when his Bailey was born. And when Landry was born, you'd shine that a little boy was born to carry on the Bozeman name. You'd beam when you found out his middle name was Ken, like his daddy, grandpa, and great-great grandpa. And when those little firecracker twins were born? You would not stop telling people about those identical baby girls. "4 kids?" You'd say to Derek. "4 kids is perfect."</li>
<li>Have looked at Heath with a knowing look when God blessed him with three sons, for you knew what it was like to raise three boys. You'd be proud to have three little boys to carry on that Bozeman name. You'd treat his wife extra special, knowing the special lady it takes to raise three strong sons. You'd slip Heath a little bit of cash here and there, knowing how much money it takes to feed three growing boys.</li>
<li>Be so proud that my brothers work with my dad in the businesses. That something you and your daddy started has continued to the fourth generation. You'd stop in a lot to have a cup of coffee and shoot the bull with customers. You'd talk business and shake your head at the computers and the cell phones. But you'd probably get a cell phone. Just in case one of your kids, or your grandkids needed to reach you. </li>
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There's been a lot of living done these last 26 years. And while it seems like so long and so unfair that you have not lived them with us, I have to keep reminding myself how long eternity is. Because that's how long we'll ultimately have with you. I'm looking forward to that. To knowing you. To you knowing me. To you knowing my babies. </div>
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We've got a lot of catching up to do. I can't wait.</div>
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I love you, </div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-38806700080848652792012-10-01T08:43:00.000-05:002012-10-29T09:44:17.049-05:00Dear Bo & Kate, A visit to the Coles...We took off for Aunt Lori's Friday night. The plan was to see all 3 of the kids play their games. You were both great on the car ride. We made good time and ate supper before Kamryn's volleyball games. <br />
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You were so good at the games, Kate! In between games, kids played on the court, and Bo, you were cuh-razy! You chased the balls, played with Kamryn, and were one sweaty little boy!<br />
<br />
Fortunately (it was needed so badly!) and unfortunately (Brody and Brileigh's games were cancelled), it rained all day Saturday. We had a lazy day inside. Kate, you were loved on and toted around, and Bo, you played tractors and trucks with Brody all day long. Whenever you were looking for someone, you'd say, "Brody (or whoever), are you here?"<br />
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I had a great girl mom moment when I visited a shop with nothing but bows. I had several made for holiday outfits. So much fun.<br />
<br />
I laid down with you, Bo, each night until you fell asleep, then you slept with Mimi. I haven't done that much since Kate's arrival, and I sure have missed the sweet smell of a clean boy tired from a full day's play. You slept great both nights, Kate! Hallelujah!<br />
<br />
Sunday we went to church, grabbed a quick lunch, then it was on the road again. We made a ton of stops (nurse Kate, stop for a diaper blowout, stop for Sonic, stop for a spill of Sonic drink, stop for gas), but eventually we made it home!<br />
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{It's always comedy trying to get a pic with 5 kids looking!} </div>
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{Just the girls}</div>
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I think the going is finally out of me, but boy, did we make some memories! Thanks for trapsing around with us, Mimi! We love you, Coles!<br />
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" style="cursor: move;" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-26546330972971181562012-09-28T08:51:00.000-05:002012-10-29T09:52:01.478-05:00Dear Bo & Kate, Your first vacation...Before I returned to work, I wanted to get away and do something fun. Daddy couldn't come so I recruited Mimi. <br />
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We left for Albuquerque on Tuesday after Bo got out of school. The car ride was uneventful, even if Baby Sister doesn't like her car seat. Bo kept us informed of every "big truck" he saw on the road and asked, "What's that sound?" a million times. He wore the Little Einsteins DVDs out as well. <br />
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When we got the hotel, we were all done. We had a poopy diaper in the floor of the car, snacks and toys and movies strewn about, but we were there! Mimi stayed with you two in the room while I unpacked the car. It was a comedy, as we were parked on an incline, and I had to load the cart and clean out the car one handed. <br />
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We got some supper at the hotel, got you two bathed, and finally got everyone down for the night. You slept so well, Kate! You woke up only once at 3:00am. <br />
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We got to the zoo when it opened, and it was beautiful weather to be out. We saw the zoo, rode the zoo train, then rode the train from the zoo to the Aquarium. Bo loved the trains! We heard a lot of "choo, choo!!". The monkeys and hippos were favorites, too. The look on Bo's face was one of pure joy on the train. I filed it away in my memory bank and will recall it many times in the future for sure.<br />
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{Hippos!} </div>
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{We couldn't have done it without Mimi!}</div>
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{Checking out the elephants}</div>
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{Baby Sister was such a good girl}</div>
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{Trains=happiness}</div>
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{You loved the Aquarium}</div>
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{How Baby Sister spent the day} </div>
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You both fell asleep when we got you in the car so we ate fast food on the way back to the hotel. We rested that afternoon then went to a few shops before dinner. <br />
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Oh, dinner...you were a disaster! I walked around with Kate to keep her happy until our food arrived. Then when the food arrived, Bo threw a fit so I took him to the restroom to "talk". By the time I returned, it was almost time for Kate to eat so we got our dinner boxed up and headed back to the hotel. Ha! We finally enjoyed dinner when you two were bathed and in bed. Kate slept great again...until 4am!<br />
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We hit my favorite grocery store the next morning before heading back. You both slept a lot on the way home! <br />
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You were both so good. It was a great first vacation! Thanks for joining us, Mimi!<br />
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<br />mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-48842985638604993192012-09-02T22:46:00.000-05:002012-10-29T09:54:11.389-05:00Dear Kate, It's my responsibility to tell you about your Mimi and Pop...We just spent a week at the farm. We spent the weekend at the ranch with your Mimi and Pop and the Coles, and then me, you and your brother went back to the farm for a week. We stayed in a couple of days. We shopped till we dropped a couple of days. <br />
<br />
And now we're home, and I feel that empty feeling I get when I leave my family's house, or they leave mine. And I feel compelled to tell you about how much we are loved. Because I look at my parents, and I look at you, and I wonder, will they know each other for long? Will Kate know how much she was loved and adored by her Mimi and Pop? <br />
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I kept looking at my dad with you and thinking...<br />
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<ul>
<li>What if right before her 8th birthday, she finds out that Pop went to heaven? And what if what she remembers most is that his favorite color is red, and what he looks like in a hat, and how his eyes squint when he smiles, and that his hair is thick and coarse, and that he loves to watch Old Yeller, Swiss Family Robinson, and the Alamo? What if you say goodbye to your Pop too soon like I said good bye to my Pop-Pop too soon?</li>
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If God forbid that happens, who will tell you the rest? I want you to know...</div>
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<ul>
<li>That Mimi and Pop made sure they were there when you were born. They would not miss it. Showing up at important things and showing up "just because" is something they do.</li>
<li>That Mimi got up in the middle of the night with you because she loved bonding with you and because she loved your momma and wanted her to get rest. </li>
<li>That Pop took the first shift when he could because he loved bonding with you and because he loved your Mimi and your momma and wanted us to get rest.</li>
<li>That Mimi hated to hear you cry and would walk and clomp and bounce on the bed and sleep with you on her chest...whatever it took to get you comforted and comfortable.</li>
<li>That Pop did his fair share of walking and bouncing and rocking...he rocked and he rocked and he rocked. And when we suggested he could put you down, he'd say, "What if I don't want to?"</li>
<li>That Mimi always sang to you. A lot of times they were made up songs.</li>
<li>That Mimi was not the most gentle person in the world and you would fuss when she was rough, and she'd say, "Sorry, Kate. Mimi's rough."</li>
<li>That Mimi kept saying (and still does), "she's so pretty."</li>
<li>That Mimi worked hard to assure me about you and always said, "She's doing so good."</li>
<li>That Pop called you "the caboose".</li>
<li>That you were adored. Just adored by them (as are all their grandchildren).</li>
</ul>
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I've learned that not everyone has parents and grandparents like this. But you are a lucky girl, you do. And I just want you to know how they feel about you so that you never ever wonder.</div>
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-59236632496379722232012-07-30T15:55:00.000-05:002015-02-06T15:57:26.079-06:00Dear Kate, On the day you were born...I had had contractions several times that week and timed them, only to have them stop. I was having contractions on Saturday and decided I'd rest while Daddy took Big Brother to the pool. At the last minute, I decided to go with them. I'm so glad I did. <br />
<br />
I read by the pool while Daddy and Brother played. I was reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Middle-Place-Kelly-Corrigan/dp/1401340938/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1347230062&sr=1-1&keywords=the+middle+place">The Middle Place</a> by Kelly Corrigan. Brother and I shared a mango snow cone at the pool. <br />
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I wasn't feeling great when we got home. Daddy handled bath time and put Bo to bed. I timed contractions and contemplated going to the hospital. I "slept" in the recliner and timed them most of the night. When they were 10 minutes apart for 2 hours, we called our standby to watch Bo, and I called the doctor. It was about 4:30-5am. <br />
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We got to the hospital, and I took a picture of my belly for what I imagined would be the last time. <br />
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We waited until we met with the doctor to call grandparents. We finally met with him around 7:30am. I wasn't far enough along to take you without an amniocentesis. So they gave us the option of doing an amnio, waiting in the hospital for me to progress, or going home and waiting it out. After much thought, we decided to do the amnio. I know that decision was a God thing, as when you were born the cord was wrapped twice around your little neck. I shudder to think what would have happened if we'd have gone home to wait it out.<br />
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The amnio wasn't all that bad. I just closed my eyes and prayed. Mimi and Pop made their way to the hospital. They've been at the hospital when all 11 grandkids were born and didn't want to miss the caboose's arrival. We got the results that the amnio said your lungs were developed, and the doctors sprung into action. Things were slowed down by my allergies to anesthesia, but eventually they took me back for the c-section. <br />
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Brother's delivery did not go well so I was scared to death. Mercifully, the nurse anesthetist was a guy we knew from church which put me at ease. Daddy and the NA talked to me and distracted me. I remember hearing Dr. Londa saying you were big and Dr. Robert saying the cord was wrapped twice. I was so worried when I heard that, but the NA kept saying you were great. I eventually heard you cry, and they showed you to me before taking you to clean you off and have you evaluated. I thought you were big and looked like Bo. Daddy kept saying you looked like Bo.<br />
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When they finished with me, I was put in the holding room and Daddy brought you to me. You nursed so well! I couldn't believe we were having such a "normal" experience after Bo's delivery and aftermath. I looked you all over. I couldn't believe you didn't have more hair, that you were such a good size, and I loved your full little mouth!<br />
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I went to the room, and Mimi and Pop brought Bo to meet you. He came in shyly then climbed up to peer in the bassinet. It was so sweet! We gave him a gift from you (a Bruder truck), and he was obsessed with it the whole time I was in the hospital. I was having trouble with pain control most of that night so I don't remember the day as well as I wish I did, but I do remember two thoughts running through my mind constantly...<i>I have a daughter. And she's beautiful and healthy.</i> <br />
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Katherine "Kate" Morgan Zanowiak</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
July 22, 2012</div>
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12:20pm</div>
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8 lbs. 2 oz.</div>
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19.75 inches</div>
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" style="cursor: move;" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-63780045533620564042012-07-11T14:21:00.000-05:002012-07-11T14:21:23.554-05:00Dear Bo, Before pink descends upon us, I want you to know......that I have loved, loved, <i>loved </i>mothering all blue.<br />
<br />
There are some women who know from the start that they want to be mommas. And while I enjoyed the heck out of playing me some baby dolls with Aunt Lori growing up, "Momma" wasn't on my must-do-before-I-die-list. There are some women who dream about mothering a little girl. Me? Not so much. I always imagined that if I did have children, I would have a house full of little boys. So when they told me you were a boy, I thought, "<i>well, of course he is. I was meant to mother sons.</i>"<br />
<br />
I loved working on a blue nursery and have loved working on your toddler room. Some people say it's no fun to shop for a boy, but I would have to disagree. Soft blue puppy dog gowns and monogrammed jon jons still melt my heart. I went to a baby shower on Saturday for a little boy and felt a literal weight on my chest that I will not mother another infant son.<br />
<br />
One reason I wanted to mother a son was because I don't know anything about little boys so it would be easy for me to have no expectations. That has certainly been true. Everything you do is a wonder to me. Every little boy on earth may have an equal opportunity obsession with vehicles, but you are the only one I mother, and I think it's the best thing ever to watch my little man child push his vehicles around the floor making the appropriate vehicle noise, to shout the color and type of every vehicle on the road on a car ride, to use his super sonic hearing to notice every airplane, helicopter, motorcycle, ambulance, or fire truck within hearing distance. <i>You are all boy. </i> And I couldn't be happier about that.<br />
<br />
That said, you are such a loving, affectionate boy. When we aren't in the room with you, you are currently in the habit of saying, "Momma? Daddy? Where are you?" When we tell you where we are, you run to us and hug our legs, yelling, "Hi, Momma. Hi, Daddy" As if you hadn't seen us just 5 minutes prior. <br />
<br />
If we're sitting down, you prefer to be in our laps. You climb right up and make yourself comfortable, no matter what else we may be doing (reading, working on the computer, etc.). It's your territory, and you're not afraid to lay claim to it.<br />
<br />
You love to climb in bed with us when you get up in the morning. You also like us to lay in bed with you when you go down for a nap and go down at night. We try not to do that too often, but you've been sick lately, and I've been more aware that my time will soon be divided so I've taken advantage of lots of snuggling and naps together. I often fall asleep before you do. There is nothing sweeter than feeling your heavy breath in my face and your sweet lips giving me kisses before you doze off. You have plenty of energy and independence, too, but generally, you are such a sweet, happy boy.<br />
<br />
I love that I know all the characters in Cars and all the train names from Thomas. And that when I am driving, I speed up or slow down so you can get a closer look at a motorcycle or "big truck". I love that I often have to pry a train or truck out of your chubby little hands once you've fallen asleep. And that in the mornings, I hear the pitter patter of your feet in the hall as well as some toy cars or trains clanking together. I even love that I often hear, "Momma, I tootin'" followed by a giggle. And you in big boy undies? Be still my heart. I can hardly bare it!<br />
<br />
Getting pregnant with a bicornuate uterus isn't the simplest thing in the world. But one thing I felt confident in was that if we weren't able to get pregnant (unassisted) with a second child, it would be okay. <i>Because you are enough.</i> Far more than I imagined and definitely more than I deserved.<br />
<br />
I'm so excited to give you a little sister soon. You are such a people person that I know you will love having a playmate to share life with. I pray you will be best buddies, that you will be protective of one another, that you will admire one another, and that you will love "doing life" together, and that that will endure long after we are gone. <br />
<br />
But before pink descends on our little house, I want you to know that mothering a son has been more than I knew to ask for. You are the real deal, and being your Momma has filled my cup to the brim. <br />
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Love you, sweet boy!<br />
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-82003734398224571092012-06-21T07:31:00.003-05:002012-06-21T07:32:54.736-05:00I'm slowly but surely going to get caught up...I've got to get this blog up to date before Sister arrives (which could be very soon). <a href="http://www.lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2012_03_01_archive.html">March</a> is now updated. April and May coming soon...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-5.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-5.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-15006072890648334852012-05-25T08:00:00.001-05:002012-05-25T08:20:25.735-05:00Dear Bo, The things you say...Your language has just exploded this month. You will try to say anything we say. You are really into repeating things you hear now (uh-oh). You participate and respond to the cartoons you watch when they ask questions. And you are really stringing words together. I wanted to remember some of the things you are saying and doing right now:<br />
<ul><li>You know your <b>letters</b>. We have some cookies that are shaped like letters and numbers, and you always shout out the letters when you eat them. You like to watch Super Why and identify the letters. When we're driving, you'll point out letters on signs. You've even started to make the sound with the letters (you do this in speech class). If you see an E, you'll say "E! Eh-eh". </li>
<li>You know your <b>numbers</b>. You like to count, but the counting is always the same: you skip one, and say two twice. No matter how many there is of an item, you point and say, "two-two-two" until you've "counted" them all. </li>
<li>You're really into <b>matching</b>. You love the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Wonder-Forge-01019-Matching/dp/B003E296RO">Dr. Seuss matching game</a> you got for Christmas. If we're looking at books, you'll find two objects and say, "Tree. Tree. Two trees!". My favorite is when you see a lady or man in a book. Every lady or man is a "Mommy" and "Daddy". You'll point at the Mommy and point at me and say "Two Mommies!" You're seemingly able to find two of everything at all times.</li>
<li>You are really into Toy Story, or as you call it, <b>"Woody-Buzz"</b>. You recently started saying "Ken and Barbie", which never fails to make me laugh.</li>
<li>You're a huge <b>Cars </b>fan these days, too. But you seem to be indifferent towards Lightning McQueen (or as you call him, "A-Queen"); you're a Mater fan (or as you say in two distinct syllables, May-Ter"). Daddy bought you a small Mater, and you're obsessed. You take it everywhere and talk to him. You like to hide him under your blocks then say "May-Ter? May-Ter? Where are you, May-Ter?". Then you'll lift the box and grin, pick him up, and say "Ooh okay, May-Ter?" If you drop him, you always ask if he's okay.</li>
<li>When you burp or toot, you announce it, and then say<b> "scu-mees"</b>. </li>
<li>Every time you go potty, you flush and say, <b>"Bye-bye poo-poo" </b>whether you've done that deed or not.</li>
<li><b>"Oh, no!"</b> is a favorite phrase. This weekend I took the toys out of your sandbox to wash them off and laid them out to dry. When you saw your sandbox was empty, you said "Oh, no! My toys!"</li>
<li>I rarely shop in town so I order a lot on the Internet. There's always something being delivered to the house it seems. Last week the doorbell rang, and the nanny opened it to see who it was. You looked around and said, "Hmm. No box!"</li>
<li>You like to say "Hmm" a lot like you're really contemplating.</li>
<li>You're into saying "Bye" to things, especially when we watch cartoons. "Bye, Guppies!", "Bye, Mickey!", "Bye, Thomas", "Bye, Nick and Cat!" are commonly heard.</li>
<li>You are so into vehicles-----trucks "big trucks", tractors, cars, bikes, motorcycles, trains ("choo-choos"), airplanes. You name it. You like to make their noises, shout when you see them, and you like telling us what colors they are on the road. You're also into telling them "bye!".</li>
<li>You love to be tickled. We hear "Tickle, Daddy" and "Tickle, Mommy" over and over again. </li>
<li>You love to play with/kick/throw balls. I love when you say, <b>"soccer ball"</b>. It's awesome.</li>
<li>And of course, my favorite is when you say love you "wuv-ooo"!</li>
</ul><a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"></a><br />
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-36979424656065386192012-05-24T08:23:00.002-05:002012-05-24T08:23:00.657-05:00Dear Bo, Your second gym awards ceremony...How can it be that this is your second awards ceremony at ADGC? Wasn't it just yesterday <a href="http://www.lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2011/05/dear-bo-your-first-awards-ceremony.html">we were having your first</a>? <br />
<br />
And you were playing with tiny balls on the small trampoline?<br />
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</div>Instead of big balls on the big trampoline?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02xP4a_jRvot6pnvh7kefWNLcJVae_uA2Rmo84FuwQuC3KhIhpnDniR1a0XzxaZiZyxgjsVI5HlemXdKtQXwMKkCDRP14i1buIZlqa4xMtq782KQp5WtsHsDuO-qKslkT-HqIzq5bXBo/s1600/DSC_0671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02xP4a_jRvot6pnvh7kefWNLcJVae_uA2Rmo84FuwQuC3KhIhpnDniR1a0XzxaZiZyxgjsVI5HlemXdKtQXwMKkCDRP14i1buIZlqa4xMtq782KQp5WtsHsDuO-qKslkT-HqIzq5bXBo/s400/DSC_0671.JPG" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">You have loved gym class. You went with the nanny each Wednesday, and it's neat to see how far you've come. You are a jumping machine, like the climbing wall, love, love, love to run as fast as you can across the trampoline, and, of course, you're always game for playing with whatever balls are lying around. Perhaps your favorite part is getting stamps at the end of class though. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1UBJ7xfAnbU/T72gTKW8VfI/AAAAAAAAJ_g/LdtEwlPZjkg/s1600/DSC_0689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1UBJ7xfAnbU/T72gTKW8VfI/AAAAAAAAJ_g/LdtEwlPZjkg/s400/DSC_0689.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tAkmHNOend4/T72gLqnKwbI/AAAAAAAAJ-o/SRSxkgsyHII/s1600/DSC_0673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tAkmHNOend4/T72gLqnKwbI/AAAAAAAAJ-o/SRSxkgsyHII/s400/DSC_0673.JPG" width="243" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Miss Lynn presented you with your ribbon, and you were happy to take it from her. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-teuXlkOyU3E/T72gPtda7XI/AAAAAAAAJ_I/Ms_7bo4WOKQ/s1600/DSC_0680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-teuXlkOyU3E/T72gPtda7XI/AAAAAAAAJ_I/Ms_7bo4WOKQ/s400/DSC_0680.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div>It's impossible not to sniffle when I think about her giving you your award last year...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s2YFFLwatQQ/TeHGDMqZ-_I/AAAAAAAAEb0/yPaK1Jy6zzo/s1600/DSC_0972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s2YFFLwatQQ/TeHGDMqZ-_I/AAAAAAAAEb0/yPaK1Jy6zzo/s400/DSC_0972.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" style="cursor: move;" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-86819329964287487322012-05-23T09:31:00.000-05:002012-05-23T09:31:27.969-05:00Dear Baby Girl, A weekend at home...Another week down, Baby Sister.<br />
<br />
Daddy was out of town this weekend so it was just you, me and Big Brother this weekend. I dropped him off to play at Parents' Night Out on Friday night, and you and I went shopping for your room. I found some darling lamps and a few other things. <br />
<br />
Things are going pretty smoothly with this pregnancy, but I'm starting to get tired in the later afternoons and evenings. I'm also super annoyed by one of the side effects of this pregnancy...nose bleeds! I had a ton this weekend and early this week. I don't remember having a nosebleed ever before this pregnancy.<br />
<br />
We saw you last Thursday. You're looking less alien-like and more little girl like. In some of the pics you looked like your brother (which makes me happy because as you may know, we're over the moon for him). You have sweet lips and chubby cheeks. You even looked like you have some hair. Your heartbeat was 148bpm, and you weighed 2 pounds, 10 ounces. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZd914nKaMySVPjXBfiji8ueyI_C5WbmLymH0bpf4O5YUilEcRGm3ExfL2J_gTCcRuN5kUzEhil3bEWK5owNHOiNCbrEtv4GGkF9qjBnYEITcbFdew_Yy3mbJsaTqrkWBOPq82t3mno94/s1600/butternut_squash_v.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZd914nKaMySVPjXBfiji8ueyI_C5WbmLymH0bpf4O5YUilEcRGm3ExfL2J_gTCcRuN5kUzEhil3bEWK5owNHOiNCbrEtv4GGkF9qjBnYEITcbFdew_Yy3mbJsaTqrkWBOPq82t3mno94/s200/butternut_squash_v.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><br />
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<i>Here's what you're up to {29 weeks}:</i><br />
<br />
You weigh about 2 1/2 pounds and are a tad over 15 inches long from head to heel. Your muscles and lungs are continuing to mature, and your head is growing bigger to make room for your developing brain. To meet your increasing nutritional demands, you'll need plenty of protein, vitamins C, folic acid, and iron. This trimester, about 250 milligrams of calcium are deposited in your hardening skeleton each day.<br />
<i>These were my prayers for you:</i><br />
<br />
That we'll have plenty of shopping adventures together and girl weekends when Big Brother gets bigger and goes on boys' weekends with Daddy. That you're growing just like you're supposed to and stay in there until at least 36 weeks.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-60087804167198567102012-05-21T09:31:00.000-05:002012-05-23T09:47:17.837-05:00Dear Bo, A Mommy and Me weekend...Daddy went fishing with his cousins this weekend so we had a Mommy and Me weekend. I didn't take a single picture with my camera, but my heart took a plenty.<br />
<br />
I dropped you off to play at Parents' Night Out on Friday night. You love it there. Every time I pick you up, they tell me how much fun you have and how happy you are there. One little girl about a year older than you took it upon herself to "take care of you" while you were there. Her name was Hannah, and you keep saying "Bye, Hannah" every time we pass by the church now.<br />
<br />
You have decided it's fun to wake up at 6am sharp now so Saturday you greeted me bright and early. You laid on "Daddy's pillow" as you kept calling it and tried to be quiet so I could snooze a little longer, but in the end, your desire for milk and Cat in the Hat won out so you sat on me, kissed me, and whispered, "Cat". I obliged. <br />
<br />
We played outside a lot on Saturday, and you took a great nap. You like us to lay with you at nap time, and Sissy is making me tired these days so I slept with you for about an hour before I got up and got a few things done. <br />
<br />
Sunday was another 6am day so we were more than ready in time for church. You love your teachers and Bible class.<br />
<br />
I kept thinking this weekend that I'm sad our one on one time is coming to an end. I'm excited to give you a Baby Sister, but I know that you'll become more dependent on Daddy now, and I just love our special relationship. I soaked up every second with you. I just love...<br />
<ul><li>How you'll be playing but all of the sudden realize I'm not beside you and run to find me, and when you do, you'll hug my leg and say, "Hi, Momma".</li>
<li>How you pull my arm around you when I lay with you at nap time and snuggle into me.</li>
<li>How your chubby fingers play with my nails when you sit in my lap.</li>
<li>How you turn on the charms with a big ornery grin when you know you're doing something you shouldn't.</li>
<li>How your favorite phrase this weekend was, "Oh, no!"</li>
<li>How you think it's funny to burp and say, "scu mees".</li>
<li>How you flush and say cheerfully, "Bye poo-poo" every time you go to the bathroom in the potty, whether you've gone poo-poo or not. </li>
<li>How you drop everything when you hear a siren ("amblance"), a motorcycle, a truck, or an airplane (you say these right on), yell their names, and do not stop until I acknowledge that I've heard them, too.</li>
<li>How you make a car noise every single time I put on your "Cars undies" (your pullups) at night.</li>
</ul>Mimi and Pop stopped by on Sunday on their way home from a weekend trip. You love them both, but you are a Pop's boy. You kept giving him hugs, and he had to be the one to take you to wash your hands with "Elmo soap", to swing you, and carry you to the car.<br />
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<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-5284586616593328832012-05-16T08:50:00.001-05:002012-05-16T08:50:00.274-05:00Dear Baby Girl, We celebrated Mother's Day this weekend...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had such a good weekend together as a family of four. I couldn't help but think of what it will be like next year with a 10 month old. Your brother was really getting fun at 10 months old, and I imagine your little personality and mobility will be on a roll, too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've been having some contractions and cramping, so much so that I wondered if we should go out of town on Saturday, but there's really no pattern, and they've subsided through the week. I'm anxious to see if anything has changed when we go for our sonogram on Thursday. Things started falling apart with your brother's pregnancy at 30 weeks so I keep holding my breath for that marker to pass. We'll get a high resolution ultrasound, and I can't wait to see how you've changed and get more pictures of you.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Your GranNana sent another box of dresses from your cousins. They're sizes you'll wear when you're older, and I had fun oohing over them and packing them away. She also sent the sweetest pink day gown with rosettes on the sack portion and a matching hat. So sweet. Can't wait to doll you up in it!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We thought we were decided on your name, Rebecca Tally Zanowiak, but now I'm having my doubts. I kept calling you Rebecca or Becca, but it just didn't seem 100% like your name. So now we're still milling over names, and these are still the frontrunners: Rebecca, Allie, Kate, and we've also added Morgan to the list (which I found on the Jones family tree). Bo pronounces these: Beeka, Owee, Ket, and Morget. If I could get away from family names (but I'm not convinced I can), I would vote to name you Avery or Emerson. Daddy would name you Aspen. We'll see where we end up. I hate not having your name picked out; mostly because I want to order a monogram for your room and monogram your diaper bag and some bloomers for you. I suppose that will all have to wait...</div><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/AVvXsEi-grJdAbWOOXzceWreT9L_xCawS7XBaxnL3fsErvndaH9k8iIkDJIZ4iSPfcB0KGYOxub0FTVOVKNiYqbe0DHSqqLWtVQ7dcqMdYxXg4ebjHnhfgdWF9XNAH5SbggJ149GBythB0zH-zA/s1600/Chinese-Cabbage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-grJdAbWOOXzceWreT9L_xCawS7XBaxnL3fsErvndaH9k8iIkDJIZ4iSPfcB0KGYOxub0FTVOVKNiYqbe0DHSqqLWtVQ7dcqMdYxXg4ebjHnhfgdWF9XNAH5SbggJ149GBythB0zH-zA/s200/Chinese-Cabbage.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><i>Here's what you're up to this week {28 weeks}:</i><br />
<br />
By this week, you weigh two and a quarter pounds (like a Chinese cabbage) and measure 14.8 inches from the top of your head to her heels. You can blink your eyes, which now sport lashes. With your eyesight developing, you may be able to see the light that filters in through my womb. You're also developing billions of neurons in your brain and adding more body fat in preparation for life in the outside world.<br />
<br />
<i>These were my prayers for you:</i><br />
<br />
That your eyesight and brain develop as they should. That you stay inside the womb as long as possible.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/?action=view&current=gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i856.photobucket.com/albums/ab127/mindibz/gg_octoberroadblogwear_postdivid-1.png" style="cursor: move;" /></a>mindibzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06466268986617987777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313436427280468535.post-79552078166754777172012-05-11T14:36:00.000-05:002012-05-11T14:36:26.610-05:00Dear Sis of Mine,<i>*I have a ton of posts in the works to catch up on, but I couldn't get this one off my mind so I'll back fill the rest soon. </i><br />
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<br />
I've been going through closets and drawers making room for Baby Girl. I've sorted through TONS of pictures. These were obviously from years past since I rarely print pictures anymore; I just keep the digital images. As I went through them, I found a TON of my oldest niece, Brileigh Kenzi. I mean...A TON. Some I had taken, some my sis mailed me. There were so many. She was the chubbiest little thing. She was the first grandbaby on my side (now the oldest of a dozen), and she was (and is) adored in every way.<br />
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I feel comfortable saying that no one adored her more than me. I have always been silly over babies, and I was thrilled when she arrived. She arrived 6 weeks before my wedding (sorry about that, Sis!). I lived in Lafayette, LA then Houston during my sis's pregnancy and Brileigh's infancy. She was born late at night, and I was asleep, but I remember telling my mom she had to call me. She woke me up with a phone call to let me know she was here safe and sound. Sis didn't share the name before the birth, so it was exciting to learn her name. My middle name is Leigh so it was fun to hear that was part of her name spelling, too.<br />
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I didn't see Brileigh until I traveled home a week before my wedding; she was 5 weeks old. I bought her outfit upon darling outfit, purses, toys, books. I loved buying for her. When I would go on trips, I always brought her something back. When I traveled home for visits, I never showed up empty handed. <br />
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After Brileigh, there were 3 more born on my side then a lull before 4 more were born in a row. I felt the same excitement when each of them were born. I bought gift cards for their mommas to get new maternity clothes with each pregnancy, sent congratulations cards, planned family pamper parties, and had the best time buying for those sweet babies. Every single time a new baby was added, I bought them the book "Guess How Much I Love You" and inscribed it. I made it my project to make sure they had holiday shirts with each passing holiday...Christmas, Valentine's, Halloween...you name it! And it was important to me to not show up empty handed when I saw them (I lived away from home so I didn't get to see them too often). The next 4 were born, and it was tough to keep up with purchases, but never tough to keep my adoration level up. <br />
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As they grew out of the baby stages, into fun little girls and boys, I tried my hand at "experience" gifts. I took them to see High School Musical, Peter Pan, and Annie. I painted nails, read books, told stories at bedtime, and was generally, the "fun aunt" who swooped in every couple of months to treat the kiddos. I feel sure I had more fun than them most of the time; they are some of my favorite, favorite memories (and thankfully, <a href="http://lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2011/10/dear-memory-bank-long-live.html">we're still making them</a>).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibj-4pugwC1uwjEpnsQLMupaYjzkrj005CQYEMUPLZpcCD6DxBztkkJP7ycgdnW2nw0eeR8s3cfanfA-bpD190yN66Av2trvy2qVbADbiyOen-5nHKeiC2o1k3a4-6UgC6mUvfc6hW5k4/s1600/MBZ+Pictures+490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibj-4pugwC1uwjEpnsQLMupaYjzkrj005CQYEMUPLZpcCD6DxBztkkJP7ycgdnW2nw0eeR8s3cfanfA-bpD190yN66Av2trvy2qVbADbiyOen-5nHKeiC2o1k3a4-6UgC6mUvfc6hW5k4/s400/MBZ+Pictures+490.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">{High School Musical 2008}</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsfBSpQyfXByWKCEICQSSsviagfjPvQllleKQ1xx_0IFWaTK25EOfzTqGM6lr3vUeTVlv3p9z_hyphenhyphenhHzkxnX8gHJBKsj3svkPxD7ExUXZR-OhMADUGiVNd5fC2l1cyNvGix_A-IorLHlQ/s1600/Kids+in+yard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsfBSpQyfXByWKCEICQSSsviagfjPvQllleKQ1xx_0IFWaTK25EOfzTqGM6lr3vUeTVlv3p9z_hyphenhyphenhHzkxnX8gHJBKsj3svkPxD7ExUXZR-OhMADUGiVNd5fC2l1cyNvGix_A-IorLHlQ/s400/Kids+in+yard.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> {Annie Weekend 2008}</div>Not very often...<br />
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But on rare occasion...<br />
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I would allow myself to wonder...<br />
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<i>"Who will do this for me and my kids? Can my siblings possibly love my children as much as I love theirs? Who will send me a congratulations card when I'm pregnant, or get me a gift card, or spoil my babies? How could they have time to do all that when they're raising their own kids? Won't they all be so over it by the time I join the ranks of a new parent?" </i><br />
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I was the last of my siblings to have kids. While they were starting and raising their families, I was working, going to law school, taking a ton of trips, and generally just doing whatever I wanted. Sure, I was mixing in fun purchases for their kiddos and planning fun things for them to do, but mostly I was doing a lot of stuff for me. Admitting that I asked myself those questions during those pre-child years makes me cringe now. I admitted the same to a friend, and she said that I shouldn't be so hard on myself because "<i>you can only know what you know</i>."<br />
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And now I know...<br />
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<i>That loving their kids was important. That showing that love through treats and trips was fun and appreciated, but what I could have done and should have done, was loved those kids' parents better.</i><br />
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I was right about the answers to some of my questions, but it turns out that being right meant being wrong. It turns out I inflated what all of those things meant...I did the best I could with what I knew at the time, but now I know better. And I certainly wish I would have known then what I know now so I could have done better.<br />
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Now I know...<br />
<ul><li>How important it is to show up</li>
<li>How important it is to listen</li>
<li>How important it is to not judge or persuade, but to just love them right where they're at</li>
<li>How important it is to check in often</li>
<li>How important it is to cheer them on</li>
</ul><br />
Bo was born on a holiday, and I knew it would be difficult for family to come see him for awhile. Not only did they have their own little flocks to tend to, but it was a holiday weekend, and bad weather on top of that. Imagine my surprise, when my sis and her little family surprised us at the hospital. <i>She showed up.</i> I didn't see Brileigh for 5 weeks. I don't recall how long it was before I saw her second born, Kamryn. I wised up and showed up at the hospital when her third, Brody, was born. But it bothers me now that I didn't show up for the first two. <br />
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Nursing was a huge obstacle with Bo. Oh, my stars. Those early weeks were so difficult. My sis successfully nursed all 3 of her kiddos. She became my personal therapist/cheerleader/question hotline. Some days, she would have me call her after every nursing session just to talk about how it went. A lot of times, she'd just be on the other end listening to my sniffles. <i>She listened.</i><br />
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When we went home for Christmas when Bo was just a month old, she took care of Bo at night so I could sleep. Oh, blessed sleep. And when we went <a href="http://www.lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2010/01/dear-cousins-we-had-so-much-fun-with.html">to visit her when he was just a couple of months old</a>, she did it again. <br />
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During the MSPI debacle and sleeplessless of the first 7 months,<i> she checked in on me all th</i><i>e time</i>. Sometimes I'd sniffle. Sometimes I'd be happy as a lark. But all the time, I was happy to have someone to share my thoughts with.<br />
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When we were at our wit's end, <a href="http://www.lettersfrommin.blogspot.com/2010/06/dear-me-breckenridge-day-2.html">she invited us on vacation with her family</a> and let us escape for a weekend, helping us to break out of the cycle of feeling like "it will always be this way."<br />
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When I peppered her with questions about sleep training, and feeding schedules, and now potty training, she laughed at my neuroses, but <i>always answered</i>. Understanding my personality is hugely different than her own, she never tried to change my mind or my method, she just let me go off on some neurotic tangent (still does) and answered all of my questions. <i>She just met me where I was at and didn't judge or try to persuade.</i><br />
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There has been no bigger cheerleader for Bo in our recent potty training efforts than my sis. I text his success and get "Whoo-hoo!" texts back. I get texts checking on his progress. I continue to pepper her with questions, and continue to get those questions answered. When I wonder if I'm doing it right, she seems to read my mind and sends a "Great job, Momma!" text. <i>She's not only his cheerleader; she's mine.</i><br />
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Along the way, by not making me feel like I was doing things the "wrong way", and by not trying to change my mind when I was being hyper sensitive and hyper scheduled about things, she helped me find my way and develop confidence as a mother. I'm a lot less stressed about Baby Girl's arrival for a couple of reasons, but many have to do with the confidence she's helped me develop. <br />
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What makes me sad is realizing that I wasn't there when her first two entered this world, that I never offered to stay up at night so she could get some sleep, that I don't remember celebrating with her over many of their milestones. That while I thought buying cute outfits and taking the kids fun places was being a great aunt, <i>what she really needed was a great sis</i>:<br />
<ul><li> to just show up, </li>
<li>let her get some sleep, </li>
<li>to check in,</li>
<li>to listen, </li>
<li>to be her cheerleader,</li>
<li>to say "good job, momma" over and over again until she believed it.</li>
</ul>So while I was right about some of the answers to my questions, I was wrong about all of the important ones. I have no doubt my siblings love my kids just as much as I love theirs. And instead of it being a disadvantage to start my family last, I've learned that it's really an advantage. Drawing from years of experience, they are able to love and support me in a way I didn't know how to love and support them when they were starting their families.<br />
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No one does a better job of loving and supporting me that than my sis. So Sis, twelve years overdue..."Good job, Momma!" I'm your number one fan. I hope you have a wonderful Mother's Day.<br />
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