tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17295724046811355692024-03-12T21:42:57.821-04:00Long Way Around the BarnLilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-17619597185647042202014-01-23T10:13:00.002-05:002014-01-23T10:13:53.645-05:00Not So Much.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQtNHhZMUoYj8nrR2Kb1X91OES-U0rICFaX9rZuJb6tw-mMyGcmYPoVKjwtdHhIiAa9v9bMnvS7zqJMGM96wfINCyEsSRg8TDs-eSkFit5C5FwF0IfQmGkkHUFBcQN1fBNCCaf1bYcDY/s1600/FuckYou!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQtNHhZMUoYj8nrR2Kb1X91OES-U0rICFaX9rZuJb6tw-mMyGcmYPoVKjwtdHhIiAa9v9bMnvS7zqJMGM96wfINCyEsSRg8TDs-eSkFit5C5FwF0IfQmGkkHUFBcQN1fBNCCaf1bYcDY/s1600/FuckYou!.jpg" /></a></div>
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So… there it is. I was all gung ho to start another cycle pronto, but there is so much up in the air around here right now that I think I will propose holding off until April to transfer the final embryo. </div>
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The good news is I can drink as much as I want on the cruise.</div>
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Not really the good news I was hoping for. </div>
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Blood test is next week, just to get that final nail in the coffin, but I am 100% confident that it's over for this cycle.</div>
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I'm trying to think of something funny to say here, but I've got nothing.</div>
<br />LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-11356928477961923722014-01-22T09:40:00.001-05:002014-01-22T09:40:27.993-05:00The Optimistic InternetOh internet. I love you so much.<br />
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I can google "Negative pregnancy test, negative blood test, bleeding, no pregnancy seen on ultrasound, doctor says I am not pregnant" and I know that at LEAST one website (I'm looking at you, BabyCenter) will have at least ONE wonderful lady saying "That EXACT same thing happened to me! But I was totally pregnant! It ain't over 'til it's over!!!"<br />
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I can always find some reassurance out there if I look hard enough.<br />
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No news is basically no news from sunny (FREEZING) Florida. Didn't test today, just couldn't face it. Maybe I'll give it another go tomorrow. No symptoms really, one way or the other.<br />
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It's weird, because we hadn't tried to conceive at all since the girls were born, I kind of stopped thinking of myself as infertile. I mean, I tried to get pregnant one time in the past 5 years, and it worked! 100% success rate over the past 5 years! I really hoped this FET would be no sweat, but I am being reminded of how much it sucks to want something that everyone around me seems to be able to achieve without a second thought.<br />
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Ok, pity party over. Off to the races.LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-67148405833131853552014-01-21T12:11:00.000-05:002014-01-21T13:04:45.922-05:00Whomp whomp whoooooomp...I know. Don't even THINK it. It's too early to pee on a stick. Well, not for me it's not. I got a strong + with the girls at 5dp5dt, an unmistakable +, a GO BUY A MINI VAN RIGHT NOW +.<br />
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So this morning, I peed on a stick. And got nothing. No glimmer of a hint of a squinter of a second line. Just zero. Polar bear in a snowstorm WHITE.<br />
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Blarrgh.<br />
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I spent my time getting ready this morning feeling very sorry for myself, playing over in my mind what it would have been like telling the girls that they were going to be big sisters, thinking about how close it is to THE VERY END of any chance of baby making for us, and grumping because I was a very good pregnant person indeed, and if anyone should be allowed to be pregnant again and should be issued an invitation to the Pleasant Pregnant People Hall of Fame it is ME. (It is I?) (Genny, help a sistah out.)<br />
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But then it was time to wake the girls for school, and I remembered how insanely lucky I am, how I should never take one second of motherhood for granted, because just like this cycle, things could have gone either way 5 years ago, but they are here and they are beautiful and smart and funny and sensitive and they need me more than they need anything else, including another sibling. So I breathed them in and I enjoyed our morning together, and appreciated it in a way I don't always appreciate being with my daughters.<br />
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Then I took them to school, and I got a little sad again, so I went to WalMart because sometimes when I need to feel better than everyone else that's a good place to go.<br />
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What?<br />
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So while I won't say we have NO horse in the race this cycle, I will say if we do it is a VERY SLOW FLIPPING HORSE. I'll probably test again in a few days, but I can't say that optimism is super high.<br />
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Anyway, back off to Google "Positive beta after negative 5dp5dt" again for like the 10th time. Whatever helps, right?<br />
<br />LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-89809498000198502572014-01-18T20:41:00.000-05:002014-01-18T20:41:22.534-05:00The Little Embryo that Could?We made it through transfer day, but it wasn't without its moments.<br />
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Both embryos survived the thaw, which was obviously fantastic news.<br />
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But.<br />
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The quality of the embryos was not particularly good. To put it bluntly, it was pretty bad. The RE came just before the transfer with the Fert Report from embryology, and she told us we might consider transferring both, since neither of them are very strong. She stepped out for a few minutes so we could discuss, and I have to admit I was incredibly conflicted. Dearest didn't really waffle- we don't want twins, we should not transfer two. Clear, right? Becomes a little less clear when you've been repeatedly stabbed with a 2" 22 gauge needle in the rear in the name of becoming PREGNANT. Ultimately, we stayed with our decision to do an elective single embryo transfer. And I have questioned it every second since. Now we have the cost of refreeze and the potential of another cycle with a sub-par blast to think about if this cycle is not a success, where as if we had transferred both and had a failed cycle, we would be able to clearly close the door on this chapter of our lives. But if we had transferred both and wound up with another multiple pregnancy, it would have been difficult and stressful, at best.<br />
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Sometimes it's hard to take the path of least regret. Not because you don't want to, but because it's not always as clearly marked as we anticipated.<br />
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Anyway, 2dp5dt, and nothing much to report here. Pregnant until proven otherwise, but no real symptoms to report that can't be explained by the crazy progesterone supplementation. Not feeling hopeless, but being careful not to get carried away with optimism either, especially in light of a good friend recently announcing her pregnancy. Having the girls as a constant distraction is incredibly helpful.<br />
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I keep telling myself, "I'm ok either way. I'm ok either way. I'm ok either way."<br />
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Maybe at some point I will convince myself that it's true.<br />
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Anyway, for comparison's sake, here is "Baby C."<br />
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If I were super fancy at the internetz, I would link you back to my blog post that has the petri dish pictures of "A" and "B" (that would be Sophia and Olivia) so you could compare. A super awesome blastocyst has a tightly packed cluster of cells in the center, some nice blank space, and many regularly spaced dense cells around the inside edges of the circle. The cluster goes on to be fetal cells, and the cells around the inside edges go on to be placental cells. This little blast has a so/so cluster of stem cells, and a not so hot group of placental cells. There's everything I know about embryology. The girls were a 3AB and a 4BB if I recall correctly. This embryo is a 4BC. Anything CC or below CRM won't really bother with. </div>
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Anyway, I'll leave this post with Dr. Jaffe's parting words to me-- "You never know. I've seen some beautiful babies come from some ugly embryos." </div>
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<br />LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-50874415453684238142014-01-16T10:45:00.002-05:002014-01-16T10:45:49.853-05:00Green Light!They made it! Transfer this afternoon, beta the 27th. So relieved. Hang in there little embies, we are on our way!LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-26031158697661295292014-01-15T22:40:00.002-05:002014-01-15T22:40:40.273-05:00At the Starting LineIt's been a harrowing couple of months. I'm happy to report, for those who follow me here and no where else (are there any people like that? I doubt it. But just in case.) Coda is doing really well. He WAS doing perfectly, until last week when a pit bull attacked him, but despite a few staples in his head, which seems like small potatoes compared to all he's been though since August, he's doing fine. And that is a huge relief to all of us here at Casa Fontana.<br />
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So that being said, it's game on for FET #1. I had all of the preliminary tests in November and December and started medications 3 weeks ago. All of the monitoring visits thus far have gone great, and while I'm not exactly enjoying the injectables, I have my wonderful new neighbor (a former EMT) doing my PIO shots and it helps a lot having been down this road once already. Tomorrow is the day for the transfer... but first we have to get the green light. The element that is out of anyone's control is whether or not the embryos survive the defrosting process. For those of you who have been playing along at home, we have two frozen 5-day blastocysts (frozen together in one straw, unfortunately, so we don't have the luxury of thawing them one at a time) waiting for us. They will defrost tonight. If they both survive the thaw, our RE will transfer the best looking one and re-freeze the other. If only one survives, we will transfer that one. And if neither one of them survives... that's it. Game over. Out of the baby making game forever.<br />
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It's hard not to be a little freaked out by that thought- that we could have gone through the expense, stress, and discomfort of 100 shots and may not even get a chance to TRY. I truly feel like I will be "ok" whether we conceive or not, but dammit I am going to be really disappointed if we have nothing to transfer.<br />
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So tomorrow morning we will get the "go or no go" call from CRM. Here's hoping that it's a go, that the transfer goes well, and that this is the first step on yet another awesome journey. I'm up for it.LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-33365614566643682052013-09-24T22:35:00.001-04:002013-09-24T22:35:43.902-04:00Limbo Lower...Back into limbo go our little frosties, as life throws us a doozie of a curve ball and we try to figure out what we should do with the pitch.<br />
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Our sweet dog, Coda (the Wonder Mutt) was badly injured more than a month ago while boarded when we were on vacation. He had been making painfully slow progress the past few weeks. Our vet encouraged us to be patient, but we didn't feel good about how he was healing, and we sought a second opinion from the University of Florida Veterinary Hospital. They are the "big dogs" around here (so to speak) and have a whole soft tissue department that specializes in the kind of injuries that Coda sustained. He had an appointment there today, and the news was not entirely good. Because of the nature and location of his wounds, there are no guarantees that he is treatable. They are going to attempt a skin graft on his left elbow, probably Friday, and then keep him another week to do follow up. (For us to run him back and forth is two hours each way, and the logistics of twice-a-day bandage changes are literally impossible.) So he has been admitted and will be there for about 2 weeks. We are all really concerned about Coda, and I am tortured by just knowing that despite being in pain he was so HAPPY to just be at home cozied up with his family, and I know he is terrified and lonely in a cage in an unfamiliar place where he is going to be put through multiple procedures. Most of all I am worried that things are not going to go well and that we will never see him again.<br />
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Which leads me to our pickle.<br />
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Spending all this time in a veterinary hospital and having at least one major surgery is not free. Not even close.<br />
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And neither is completing this FET.<br />
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What has been paid for are all the tests, consultations, and hysteroscopy.<br />
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What remains is the meds and the actual transfer.<br />
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And at some point we will need to eat. And pay our mortgage. And our car payments. And the kids tuition, and the utilities, and gas, and the kids prepaid college, and and and.<br />
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And Dearest has an awesome job and has done very well providing for our family. But the line has to be drawn somewhere, no?<br />
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So we are taking a moment. And reassessing adding to our family. Coda was here first, and he is where our obligation lies. Maybe in a week we will know more and be better able to make a final decision, but at the moment the FET is on hold, and its hard for me to know where my heartbreak over the dog ends and my disappointment over not giving those little snowbabies a chance begins.<br />
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A little flicker of sweetness to end with, though. I was a little choked up thinking about Coda when Soph came cavorting into the room tonight, and she froze in her tracks and looked at me, wide-eyed, for a long moment. "Mama, what happened? What happened to you? Why are you crying?" she asked me. I told her I was just worried about Coda and sad that he was not home with us. She threw her little arms around my neck and told me, "It will be better, Mama. I know that you are sad but things will be better, ok? Don't worry." It wasn't long before Liv walked in and Sophie was quick to tell her, "Mama's sad, because she is worried about Coda. She was crying, Liv." Olivia patted my head and told me "I love you Mom. Don't cry."<br />
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It was the first time my children have ever comforted ME. (In truth, it was only the second time they have ever seen me cry. I'm not much of a crier.) And it was incredibly wonderful, seeing my kids display this empathy.<br />
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And I know that no matter what happens, I am lucky. And it is going to be ok.LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-89836070469999807002013-09-11T21:33:00.002-04:002013-09-11T21:33:48.363-04:00FET #1, or Clearly We Have Lost Our MindsI have gone back and forth a hundred times about whether to blog about round two of our baby-making efforts. On one hand this whole experience has a much more laid-back feeling that the events surrounding the girls' conception, and a part of me likes it being a private, nonchalant experience. But at the same time I do from time to time look back on our experience with IVF, from the technical (what dose of Lupron was I on again?) to the emotional (four years ago is such a foggy memory) and I like the idea of being able to look back on potential-baby-number-three's beginnings as well. I would make a comment about how I hope others reading this benefit and it's all for the greater good or something, but that's not really my motivation. I know I'm not reaching a huge audience here, and I'm totally ok with that.<div>
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We did not take the decision to attempt to have a third child lightly. We agonized over it for literally years. Is this the best thing for us? And most importantly, for our girls? Things now are so <i>easy</i> (for lack of a better word) with the girls. They sleep all night. They are potty trained. They go to school. They feed themselves, entertain themselves, and are able to explain what they are thinking and feeling. So the temptation to maintain the status quo is there for sure. But... there's always been a but. Obviously, we have paid to keep these other two embryos frozen for a reason. I have always liked the idea of a big family. Of the thought of a household filled with lots of little voices singing "happy birthday to you" and lots of stockings lined up in a row on Christmas eve. And the thought of the girls leaving the nest at the same time, the thought of dropping them off at college and coming home... yes, I know it's 14 years in the future, but I also know how fast these first four years have gone... that thought KILLS me. I think about it way more than I should. Plus I think the girls would make amazing big sisters, and that any little soul who stumbled into our midst would be super lucky. Not that we are perfect, just that we have lots of love to spare. Would I be ok with life as a family of 4? Yeah, I'd be ok. But I would always spend the rest of my life with that little "what if" buzzing around in my head. I'm ready to try. </div>
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So off we go. If you will remember, when we left off we had two children and two cryopreserved embryos. About 2 months ago I went for an appointment at CRM to talk to our doctor about the FET (frozen embryo transfer, for those playing along at home) and get an idea of what to expect. Of course the protocol is much less demanding than it was for a fresh cycle of IVF. Yesterday was my hysteroscopy- done under general anesthesia- and my uterus got an "all clear" from Dr. Loy and company. As soon as the biopsies that they took come back (next week) I will get my final consult and start the drugs! Probably about a month of shots. I don't mind the subcutaneous ones at all, but the PIO (progesterone in oil) are an intramuscular and I am not sure how I'm going to manage that this time. When I was doing my fresh cycle, the school nurse where I was teaching was AMAZINGLY generous and did my PIO shots for me. Hoping I can either figure out how to do them myself or luck into someone equally as awesome to poke me in the butt with a giant needle for a couple of weeks. Then the transfer, probably in October, and voila! Either pregnant or not.</div>
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I do want to say that in the interim here, we have NOT made any attempt to get pregnant spontaneously. I have to admit, I feel a little obligation to those wee totsicles. Not to mention that those are perky 31 year old eggs, as opposed to my crusty decrepit 36 year old eggs. So if we get no results from the FETs, that will be the end of our baby making. Which leads me to another question that everyone, including the lady working at the post office today, asks me. "So when are you popping out another set?" Ahem. This will be a SINGLE embryo transfer. Not that we don't adore our twins. We totally do. But I would be lying if I told you that the first year was all sunshine and roses. Combine that with the higher risk of complications from a multiple pregnancy, and we will be doing one at a time. The only snag is this: when they froze our embryos, they froze them TOGETHER, in a single straw. So they will have to be defrosted together. If only one survives the defrost, then it's a no brainer. If they both survive, however, we will transfer one and re freeze the other. Yes, unlike chicken, you can defrost and refreeze a blastocyst, however it can cause fragmentation and there is no guarantee that it will survive a second thawing. </div>
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So there it is in a nutshell. For now life is about enjoying my girls, enjoying having a little time to pay attention to my house when the girls are at school, and trying to keep my dog from chewing his own legs off. Which is a story for another day. </div>
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Thanks for reading. :)</div>
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LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-14075388787728812442013-06-26T21:47:00.000-04:002013-06-26T21:47:35.051-04:0030 Years of Truth: Day 13I think this is where this blog derailed. This question was so hard for me to answer that I just kind of dropped the 30 day challenge... like 2 years ago.<br />
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Day 13: A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough-ass days.<br />
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It's not that I can't think of any. It's that I can think of SO DAMN MANY, so many tough days and so many artists I have connected with along the way, I don't even know where to start, who to thank first or last. My musical tastes are SO diverse it's hard to narrow it down to a genre, much less an artist. For me, Miss DiFranco wins the honors because she has gotten me through tough days for so very many years, her music has become a real emotional touchstone for me. Her lyrics and subject matter have stayed relevant to me as her albums have followed my journey through young adulthood's righteous indignation, new steamy loves, what it means to be female in a "man's world," romantic conflict, searching for the meaning of my existence, growing awareness of political injustices, and even parenting in this day and age. I've seen her live a handful of times and it is always a thrill for me.<br />
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I can't even name a favorite album, much less a favorite song, from Ani's catalog, but a handful spring to mind as ones that have gotten me through some of the toughest days. Studying Stones? Dilate? Not Angry Anymore? Wish I May? Tamburitza Lingua? Knuckle Down? Present/Infant? I have yelled them all at the top of my lungs, sung them into the mirror, choked on them between sobs, screamed them from roof tops. I have whispered them into the waves, repeated them as a mantra to myself alone. Her music has been cheaper and more effective than any other therapy for me.<br />
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So thanks, Ani. If I had the opportunity to talk to you, I'd sure I'd be speechless. You've pretty much said it all anyway.<br />
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<br />LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-16609806193121286962013-06-23T12:50:00.000-04:002013-07-01T15:45:33.019-04:00Tie Dye Personality Test<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It wasn't MEANT to be a personality test. Or any kind of test for that matter. It was just meant to keep us busy for a while on a Saturday when Dearest had to be at work, with the slight possibility that an actual wearable product might come out of it. But expectations were pretty modest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had never done tie dye, not as an adult anyway, but the kit I ordered pretty much spoon-fed the technique, and the YouTube videos I got all exclaimed that "you just can't go wrong!!!" so I was willing to give it a shot. I did as much prep work as I could while the kids played elsewhere- set up shop in the garage, mixed dyes and prepped the dresses that the girls were going to add color to. And mentally prepared myself too, to let go and let them have this experience without me being worried about what the final product would look like. Not an easy task, but when things were ready Sophia and Olivia were chomping at the bit to try it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First up was Soph. I explained to her that she could squirt the dye on or she could use the brush to put it on her dress. I told her she could use a little or a lot, and explained a bit about how the rubber bands would keep some parts of the dress white... she half listened, grabbed a dye bottle and started squirting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She went about her work with typical Sophia gusto. No questions asked, totally in the moment, ignoring my request that she pause to have her picture taken, and done in 60 seconds. Just done. "Was it fun?" I asked this poor child who had clearly inherited my attention span. "Yeah, Mom!" she called back over her shoulder, on her way to her next venture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Up next was Liv. She listened carefully as I explained to her techniques and options, and had a lot of questions about "what would happen if..." and "why can't I..." before she even picked up a brush. She was thoughtful and meticulous about her dying, turning the garment over to be sure she had done a thorough job. A few minutes in, she informed me "I am Rapunzel painting this dress," not surprising as I get regular updates about who she is, usually involving a princess or a Star Wars character. (She also usually identifies Soph as her sidekick, as in "I am Ariel and Sophie is Flounder," and Soph usually plays along for a minute, or shrugs and goes about her business.) She clearly enjoyed watching the dye spread through the folds, and wanted to know if I thought she was done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My yin and my yang. So incredibly different. Answering for all humanity the "nature vs. nurture" question. From their first breaths, these two were who they were. Sure, nurture played into it to some extent, but to a much lesser extent than I would have thought 5 years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The funny thing is... despite their marked differences, the final products are both beautiful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the dresses didn't come out too bad either. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-9520631806666158932013-06-20T22:11:00.001-04:002013-06-20T22:11:53.753-04:0050 Questions.I literally LITERALLY do not even remember how this works anymore. It took me like 10 minutes to find the "New Post" button. But here I am, back on the horse. Not making any declarations about what a great blogger I am going to be from here on out, but I will say that something inexplicable has been drawing me back to the blogosphere. So here I am. I'm gonna start out easy with a meme that my friend Genny did on her blog because it didn't seem too hard.<br />
<br />
So, hi.<br />
<br />
Here we go.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">50 Questions! From Buzzingfridge.</b><br style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"></b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;"></span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;"></span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">1.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Please understand that I have been sick as a dog all week so all of my answers are going to reflect that. Without that context you are going to really think there is something seriously wrong with me. The first time I looked at myself in the mirror today was after I took a shower at like 4 this afternoon. And what I thought was "I wish my stomach looked like this all the time and not just when I am recovering from being violently ill."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">2.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> How much cash do you have on you?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I think I have about $20 in my wallet. I try to always have $20, just in case.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">3.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Snore which is what this quest</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">i</span></span></span><span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">on makes me do.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">4.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Favorite planet?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Earth? I haven't had the opportunity to experience any others. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">5.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Blargh now I have to stand up and get my phone. I thought this was going to be easy.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">My sister.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">6.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Marimba all the way.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">7.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What shirt are you wearing?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">A blue t shirt with kind of rainbow palm trees on it from Target. They sold it as a pajama top but I wear it out all the time. F*ck the police.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">8.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Do you label yourself?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Yes but many of the labels are conflicting. I will blame that on my Gemini-ness.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">9.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">None. But the last ones I wore were my favorite Keen sandals. But I have not left the house in like 5 days, y'all.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">10.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Bright or Dark Room?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Bright. Unless it's night time. Then dark.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">11.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I love them dearly and I hope they know that.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">12.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What does your watch look like?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Silver Bulova. Simple and classy.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">13.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What were you doing at midnight last night?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Lightly sleeping and half listening for the sound of my children getting sick.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">14.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What did your last text message you received on your cell say?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">"That will change soon."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">15.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Where is your nearest 7-11?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Wayyyy down by Target, I believe.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">16.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What's a word that you say a lot?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Probably "like." Also I make this grumbling sound a LOT which I was not fully aware of until Sophia started to make the same sound whenever she gets exasperated. Now I am aware that I make that noise way way too much.</span></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">17.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Who told you he/she loved you last?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Sophie, I think.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">18.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Last furry thing you touched?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Coda the </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">wonder mutt.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">19.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> How many drugs have you done in the last three days?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Like I said, I've been sick. So too many to mention. On a normal day just my thyroid meds and my pill.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">20.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> How many rolls of film do you need developed?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">One, actually. In an underwater camera that I took last summer and never got developed. Because who thinks to take film to get developed these days?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">21.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Favorite age you have been so far?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Um, I usually like whatever age I am at the moment. I mean, I have liked different things about different ages. Except for like 13-15. Nothing redeeming there comes to mind.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">22.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Your worst enemy?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I... actually don't have one. I mean, there are some people I dislike to varying degrees, but no real "enemies." As far as I know. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">23.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What is your current desktop picture?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">A stock solar system pic that came with the computer. I don't even know how to change it.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">24.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What was the last thing you said to someone?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">"Just wanted to be sure you are ok." to Sophia who has been upstairs singing to her stuffed animals since I tucked her in an hour ago.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">25.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">A million bucks because I could share it.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span></span>
<div style="text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">26.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Do you like someone?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Lots of someones!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">27.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> The last song you listened to?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">This kid singing the national anthem (really well) before the Heat game.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">28.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What time of day were you born?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Around 9:30, at night I think but I'm not sure.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">29.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What’s your favorite number?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I don't have one. But I like to like 13 because I think superstitions are hooey.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">30.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Where did you live in 1987?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Hmm. Rockford, Michigan, I believe. I think we were in the green house by then.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">31.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Are you jealous of anyone?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Envious, for sure. Jealous? I don't know. Jealous sounds so ugly. I try not to be. Because the older I get the more I realize that what I perceive what other people have/are is not really superior to what I have and am.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">32.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Is anyone jealous of you?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I sure hope not.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">33.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Where were you when 9/11 happened?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Here in Orlando, in my old house with my first husband. I called my dad on the phone and neither one of us could believe what we were seeing. I remember the moment I realized it was not an accident. And I remember being terrified that, long-term, tourism (and my livelihood) would be impacted. And it was, but not as terribly as I thought it would.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">34.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What do you do when vending machines steal your money?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Pout. But usually try again. Because I'm an optimist like that.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">35.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Do you consider yourself kind?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Generally, yes, very kind. But I have a "mean girl" streak, if in the right company, that I am ashamed of.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">36.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I have one. And I would not get another one I don't think. If I HAD TO, like gun to my head had to? Right on top of my first one, on my left hip. Maybe it would improve it.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">37.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Italian because it's soooo beautiful!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">38.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Would you move for the person you loved?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Absolutely. I love a fresh start.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">39.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Are you touchy feely?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I guess so. With my kids for sure, and I am not into PDA but I like holding hands with Dearest when the opportunity presents itself. With friends, not as much.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">40.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What’s your life motto?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">"Bend like a blade of grass to the wind."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">But I also like the Humans of New York lady with her "Be kind and thoughtful" platform. Some people make that more difficult than others.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">41.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Name three things that you have on you at all times?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">iPhone, Sophia, Olivia.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Oh, THINGS? iPhone, package of wipes, sunglasses.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">42.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What’s your favourite town/city?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">New York City. No contest. But Florence was pretty kick ass too.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">43.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> What was the last thing you paid for with cash?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I don't even know. Maybe something at the Brooklyn Flea?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">44.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Couldn't even tell ya. But we should do that. It's really nice.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000; color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;" /><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">45.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Can you change the oil on a car?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">No.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">46.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Well I kind of have two people I could count as my first love. One was more a first lust. I hear he's sucking at life and that's fine by me. One was my first love, and I hear he's doing good, and that's also fine by me.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">47.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> How far back do you know about your ancestry?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Ooh, I love the ancestry.com, and I went way way far back on my side of the family! We have pretty much been Americans for as long as there was an America. Before that lots of Irish and French.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">48.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">P.E.O. meeting, and I wore the dress I bought to wear to Pippin but couldn't on account of the deluge.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">49.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Does anything hurt on your body right now?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">Actually... no.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">50.</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"> Have you been burned by love?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #660000;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left; text-indent: 10px;">I'm usually the burner, not the burnee. Which sounds worse than it is. I just mean I am usually the relationship ender. I have been hurt many times, but burned implies something more permanent and scarring. I'm pretty resilient, truthfully.</span></span></span>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-59796426750190240742012-01-24T15:10:00.001-05:002012-01-24T15:15:31.731-05:00The Not So Pretty Truth<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>407</o:Words> <o:characters>2324</o:Characters> <o:company>Ty Fy Studios Inc</o:Company> <o:lines>19</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>2726</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>14.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> 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name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language:JA;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I am going to be honest.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For me, that can be a bit tough.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not that I am a bold-faced liar, not by any stretch. I am, in fact, a terrible liar. Like a sitcom-esque, stuttering stammering eye-contact-averting incredibly bad liar.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But there is one think I am pretty good at. And that is painting a rosy picture, even when I don’t feel good about something. Even when the Titanic is sinking in front of me, I TRY oh how I TRY to say (and believe) what a lovely reef it will make for endangered sea life. And how fortunate it is to be sinking in ice-cold water, because did you know that cold water slows you bodily functions, and if you don’t drown or die of hypothermia there is a much better chance that you will survive without brain damage? Thank goodness it’s not sinking in tropical waters!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>So, you see.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For me to be frank about something in my life that I’m not proud of is no small deal. And this one is particularly tough, because it’s all on me. Can’t blame my childhood or my spouse or some other issue for it. I’m owning the choices I have made and I am stating them in the hopes that putting them out there will help me to break bad habits.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So here goes…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The truth is- I’m on the Internet WAY too much.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ooh, you are thinking, big stinking deal, Lindsay. Join the club. The whole world is on the Internet too much.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m not going to go so far as to say that it’s an addiction (any more than people watching too much TV is an addiction) but it is certainly a bad habit. Like, a 3-hour-a-day habit. At least. And, you know what? I can do better things with my time. I can scrapbook. I can clean (sheesh, that’s not exactly inspiring). I can sit outside on my patio and write. I can re-connect with Dearest. I can learn how to sew. I can plan activities for the Lovelies and I to do.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So there it is. I think that my “resolution” (I hate resolutions) to be on the internet less will actually lead to more QUALITY internet time, like- get in, look at what I really care about, and get out. Maybe it will even give me something to blog about. Because a blog about someone who folds laundry and surfs the internet in all of her down time is not exactly the most riveting piece of literature ever written. So wouldn’t that be an ironic side effect? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I do have a crutch in my master plan, and that is the fact that my folks are coming to Florida, staying for a month, and have rented a house right down the street from us. So I will have my parents’ shenanigans to keep me occupied and distracted. I think I will make myself a little chart (ooh, maybe with stickers! Ha! Probably not.) and try to keep surfing down to an hour a day. I will let you know how it goes. And I promise to be honest, even if it isn’t pretty.<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-87652009108543999522011-04-15T14:32:00.003-04:002011-04-15T14:41:05.461-04:00Well, y'all, we walked again this morning. I think the statistic is that you have to do something for 21 days for it to become a habit. Too bad swimming starts in 2 weeks. Oh well. One day at a time.<div><br /></div><div>Girls are still a little under the weather, Livi is a potty training super star but I'm sticking close to home for now until she is 100% there. I'm hoping that in a week or 2 I will feel brave enough to start taking her out in PANTIES!!! </div><div><br /></div><div>My mean cat is at the vet, he's suspecting renal failure. She has been really sweet and cuddly lately which is how we knew that something was very very wrong. She has lost a lot of weight in the past year too, and she wasn't really big to start with, so I don't know. Doesn't look good.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the mornings, the Twincesses like to take a little inventory of where everyone is, and they go through the list of all the people they can think of and talk about or ask where they are. The list changes from day to day, but since my folks' visit they always say "Mimi and Papa in IOWA!!! So COLD!!!" This morning Liv said, "Mimi and Papa in IKEA!!!" I laughed out loud, and pictured my parents waking up in one of those little display bedrooms set up in the Ikea showroom. Well, at least there is a restaurant there. It really wouldn't be a bad place to live. And Olivia certainly loves it.</div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-7464818388876292522011-04-14T09:41:00.002-04:002011-04-14T14:18:44.225-04:00We Interrupt This Silence With an Actual Blog PostAhem. Where were we then? Ah, yes. I was ignoring you. Sorry about that. No excuse really, just chasing the Lovelies and trying to maintain all things non-Lovely. But things are good.<div><br /></div><div>The girls are just EXPLODING with language and, almost overnight, they developed this ability to role-play, which is fascinating to watch. Well, it's fascinating to me at least, to see them rock their baby dolls and play the role of "Mama." What a mirror they hold up, when I hear my words coming out of their little mouths, when Liv stumbles and Soph says, "You okay, Livi? You bump your head? I kiss it?" Or when Liv feeds her doll and I hear her murmuring "Yum, yum, baby. It yummy chicken for you. Careful, baby. No chicken on floor." My favorite are the unsolicited "Bless you" "'Scuse me!" and "I sorry"'s.</div><div><br /></div><div>So sweet.</div><div><br /></div><div>But there's a darker side to these two little echos.</div><div><br /></div><div>And it really bothers me to hear it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Coda was a really good dog. People were always telling me what a sweet boy he was, and he was super high on our priority list. He was secure. He was loved. He was maybe even a little spoiled.</div><div><br /></div><div>But things change. Our friends who had dogs that pre-dated their kids warned us: Just wait. Your poor dog will be so low on the ladder you won't even believe it. He will fall completely off the radar. He won't be your baby anymore. He will be so neglected.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was hard to imagine, before that moment when we crossed the threshold into the house for the first time, carrying two impossibly tiny bundles. But the reality set in. Coda was big. Clumsy. Loud. Hairy. With huge sharp teeth. Our sweet boy was a threat. A menace. Demanding time and energy that we simply did not have.</div><div><br /></div><div>And if you've watched 60 seconds of The Dog Whisperer, you know how these things go. A dog who is not exercised develops discipline issues. Becomes antsy, underfoot, needy, pent-up. It's not his fault. It's his nature. And this, over time, let to me beg dearest to do SOMETHING. Because it was more than I could stand. I wanted to get rid of the dog.</div><div><br /></div><div>And the way the kids talk to him, snap at him, is hard to hear. My own harsh words, ones I would NEVER direct at the girls, ones I NEVER wanted them to hear, were thrown at the dog on a daily basis. And I feel a pang of guilt at the lesson I am teaching them, and at how unfair the whole thing is to Coda. I don't want them to think it's okay to be ugly and unkind towards any living thing, no matter what a pain in the ass it is sometimes.</div><div><br /></div><div>So this morning I decided to make a change. Even though I had 100 excuses not to. Even though the girls are under the weather, and the dog is nearly impossible to get on the leash without knocking me over in his frenzied excitement, even though it's starting to get hot in the mornings and swim lessons start in 2 weeks so it won't be practical to maintain. Today, the girls climbed into their stroller, I grabbed a tennis ball and wrangled Coda on to his leash. And we walked. And I told him what a good boy he is. We went all the way to the open field and I let him run until he couldn't run any more. The girls and I complemented his fetching, and when we got home I let the girls give him a treat and he collapsed into a spent and happy heap under the table. </div><div><br /></div><div>Not promising I am going to do this every day, but I am taking control over my relationship with this dog. And I think it's going to be better for all of us.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I now return you to your regularly scheduled silence.</div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-12139314318084290212011-02-06T15:54:00.000-05:002011-02-06T15:55:28.051-05:00Woes<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">It had been one of “those days.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not a bad day, necessarily, just a long one, full of running and missed naps and much whining, and an early bedtime because we were all just fed up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I couldn’t wait to watch Idol, and to tidy the house that had been neglected all day because the kids and I had been out and about.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The girls were quiet immediately, exhausted from the chaos in their normally regimented little lives. I couldn’t believe it when, 30 minutes later, I heard Olivia in the monitor, her groaning turning to crying turning to the moaning of “Mamamamamamama.” “Ugggggh,” I complained to Dearest, ”Really? I have not had one second of break from that kid ALL DAY. Why can’t she JUST SLEEP?!” </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I stomped up the stairs, grumbling to myself about the messy house and the one show that I enjoy watching. I plucked Olivia from her crib before she woke Soph, plopped down with her in the overstuffed rocking chair in the nursery, and commenced rocking. I fumed while she buried her head in the crook of my arm, and I rocked. I looked at the clock, and I rocked. In my mind I begged her to just hurry up and go to sleep, and I rocked.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Liv squirmed. I started to think about my energy, about my breathing, focused on relaxing my tense muscles, and I rocked. I felt Olivia’s fists start to loosen their grip on my shirt. I looked at my sweet girl. She is so big, so heavy, so formed as a human being, I hardly think of her as a baby anymore. Suddenly it was good, having her in my arms, and I let go of my anxiety, of my needs, of my demands on her. I thought about a writing by the Buddha I had read the other day: </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>He who loves 50 people has 50 woes; he who loves no one has no woes. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In that moment I flashed back, back to Dearest and I walking through our just-framed out house, giddy with excitement over the possibilities this place held and the future that would unfold here. We gazed out the holes that would one day be the windows, and referred to this room as “the nursery.” I thought about the years that this was just a guest bedroom, too big for its little full sized bed, too quiet and too empty. The door to this room was closed for 3 long years, I couldn’t face it, this space that embodied all the disappointment I was feeling. I didn’t want to believe that this would be a guest room forever. But sometimes I wondered.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We were so fortunate, I reminded myself. We had so much: the resources, the fortitude, the support, to tackle infertility. We had luck on our side. Our girls were born healthy, beautiful, brilliant.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I fought back as my anger turned on myself. How could I resent my baby needing me? I would do anything for my daughters. I knew that the first moment that I saw their heartbeats on the monitor, and I know it more with each passing day. I am so aware that it won’t be too long before we are dropping them off at school, reminding them of their curfew, walking them down the aisle. For now though, for such a finite time, they need me. And so I rocked. For longer than I had to.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I love my girls. I love my husband. I wouldn’t trade my woes for anything. </p> <!--EndFragment-->LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-51981674507580974152011-01-28T13:51:00.002-05:002011-01-28T14:16:31.282-05:0030 Days of Truth: Day 12Day 12 -- Something You Never Get Compliments On<div><br /></div><div>Well, this is turning into 30 years of truth, isn't it? Oh well, good thing I am not writing this blog on a deadline or anything.</div><div><br /></div><div>Is this supposed to be something I never get compliments on but I should because I am awesome at it? Or something I never get compliments on rightfully so because I suck at it? Guess I'll answer both.</div><div><br /></div><div>Something I should get lots of compliments on but I don't: parenting. Like every parent, I think. It's hard. So so hard. To do it well, at least. But no one is here watching, no one goes, "Wow, you could have just put the kids in front of the TV this afternoon, but you didn't. You packed them up, you took them to the park, you put them first even though you weren't feeling well." No one gives you a medal for taking the time to cook them something nutritious when you really just wanted to drive through somewhere. No one can possibly know the sacrifices you make over and over, moment after moment. It just comes with the territory. I got a lot of warm fuzzies teaching other peoples' kids, kind notes from parents, compliments from co workers, thanks from the students. I miss it sometimes, but I know that the good choices I make for the girls are an investment in their future, and that is thanks enough for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Something I will never get a compliment on ever: my attention span. I do nothing in a linear fashion. Ever. I am the one who leaves the milk on the counter, who gets halfway into 6 different projects all at once, who can't just sit and watch a TV show without ALSO surfing the net. I am absolutely a poster child for untreated adult ADD. I'm so used to it. I don't mind it. I don't find that it limits me in any way. (Except for having a TERRIBLE memory. That part I would like to fix.) It's just how I roll. It drives poor Dearest to distraction half the time, to the point that I have considered getting medicated just for his sake. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a dumb joke, but it's a pretty good summary of my day-to-day life, except add two toddlers to the mix:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; ">I decide to water my garden.<br /><br />As I turn on the hose, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.<br /><br />As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the table that I collected from the mail box earlier. I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.<br /><br />I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that it is full.<br /><br />So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.<br /><br />But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mail box when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.<br /><br />I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only 1 check left.<br /><br />My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking.<br /><br />I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over.<br /><br />The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the fridge to keep it cold.<br /><br />As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the table catches my eye - they need water.<br /><br />I put the Coke on the table and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning.<br /><br />I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the table, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote control.<br /><br />Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote control, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the front room where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.<br /><br />I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.<br /><br />So, I set the remote control back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.<br /><br />Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.<br /><br />At the end of the day:<br />- the car isn't washed<br />- the bills aren't paid<br />- there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the worktop<br />- the flowers don't have enough water<br />- there is still only 1 check in my check book<br />- I can't find the remote control<br />- I can't find my glasses<br />- and I don't remember what I did with the car keys.<br /><br />Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all day, and I'm really tired.<br /><br />I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll check my e-mail.<br /></span></div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-41345554983442499692010-12-19T20:36:00.003-05:002010-12-19T20:46:46.028-05:0030 Days of Truth: Day 11Day 11- Something people seem to compliment you the most on.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdz0KQYMOGHZF8KhTD7bDHGTMJnjwAx6sr5YMzOVulttsiU3jVEDdBWN2V8cr78EhnRFv0TsN0u9FxuN1NK_4ur_BjhZ7TNgIprAMWynvVXYvIXIajTnWSWoKG6g7lH3jN_FxI3vOlJs/s1600/0042.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdz0KQYMOGHZF8KhTD7bDHGTMJnjwAx6sr5YMzOVulttsiU3jVEDdBWN2V8cr78EhnRFv0TsN0u9FxuN1NK_4ur_BjhZ7TNgIprAMWynvVXYvIXIajTnWSWoKG6g7lH3jN_FxI3vOlJs/s400/0042.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552572983704572578" /></a><br />That was easy, wasn't it? Well, it's true. The girls get me the most compliments, not just because they are cute but because they can have very outgoing personalities. In the right mood, they are downright impossible to ignore. Case in point: pushing them around Target with Sophie yelling "Mewwy Cwistmas!" and Liv saying "Ho ho ho!" to every one we pass. I try not to be one of those crazy moms who get addicted to their kids getting attention, but I do feel a weird pang of jealousy whenever a child near us gets a compliment and the girls don't. Madness, right? But they are such an extension of me, it's hard not to take such things personally.</div><div><br /></div><div>Besides the girls though? The thing that comes to mind is my handwriting. Which is funny because for years I had horrible handwriting. Then I took some drafting classes in college, and my writing changed to all caps forever and people seem to like it. I had to work very hard to re-train myself to write in proper D'Nealian in order to teach Kindergarten!<br /><div><br /></div></div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-8649960860079226402010-12-08T20:49:00.002-05:002010-12-08T20:56:21.807-05:0030 Days of Truth: Day 10Day 10- Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know.<div><br /></div><div>Well, hmm. This one is tough. I can be remarkably good at letting go. I surprise myself sometimes. And pretty much every one I associate myself with is on my own terms these days. I don't run in a social "pack" anymore, I don't have a work group of acquaintances that I am obligated to hang out with. I pretty much spend time with the small handful of people I choose to spend time with, and most of them (here I am thinking about Amy and Susan) are pretty darn awesome. </div><div><br /></div><div>I might come back to this post and edit it if someone springs to mind, but so far... nope. </div><div><br /></div><div>(Was that artful dodgery? Because if you would have asked me this question 5 months ago, the answer would have been much, much different.)</div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-58523675817227076452010-11-27T15:00:00.002-05:002010-11-27T15:22:44.421-05:0030 Days of Truth: Day 9Yes. Hello. Where were we then? Ah, yes. Day 9.<div><br /></div><div>Day 09- Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted</div><div><br /></div><div>Well this is an easy one.</div><div><br /></div><div>D and I were, in the words of our teasing co-workers, thick as thieves. That is a fact. Over the course of years she drifted from being my acquaintance, to a pretty good friend, to one of the few people on the earth before whom I could reveal myself, be honest and truthful and raw and bare, and not in my usual tongue-in-cheek fashion. With D I could be me.</div><div> </div><div>Our togetherness was made convenient by the fact that we worked together, sweated and cursed and laughed side-by-side 40 hours a week through 2 shows and 6 years. When the time came for me to move on, career wise, I hoped that we would stay close, but a little part of me knew that things would never be the same. We stayed pretty tight for a while, but her move to the other side of town sealed the deal. We drifted. Me having two babies didn't exactly help.</div><div><br /></div><div>We got together for lunch the other day, and I was reminded how much I missed her quirks, her sense of humor, and how easy it is to talk to someone who really knows you, even if it's been 6 months since you have had a conversation and you are trying to entertain 2 toddlers while attempting to string together a cohesive sentence. </div><div><br /></div><div>Seeing D again was, in a way, comforting. I was reminded of the fact that she carries with her a bevy of friends from years past, and while she doesn't keep in touch with all of them on a regular basis, I know they still mean a lot to her. I guess I've been added to the ranks. And I'm ok with that. </div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-63243292465440955912010-11-05T13:29:00.001-04:002010-11-05T13:29:54.938-04:0030 Days of Truth: Day 8Day 08- Someone who made your life hell or treated you like shit.<div><br /></div><div>I was in the "gifted" homeroom in 6th grade, which in my school system in Michigan was considered Middle School. I had been in a variety of gifted programs in a variety of school systems, since we moved so much, some of them fantastic, some of them a total waste. This program was FANTASTIC. We were taught to be self-sufficient learners, make choices that corresponded with our learning styles, and to use creativity to process and present facts. I loved the class. I learned so much. But I always had the feeling in the pit of my stomach that the teacher didn't like me. And, more than anything, I wanted to be liked.</div><div><br /></div><div>Organization does not come naturally to me. I live a neat and tidy existence now, but I have to work very hard to maintain it, and it was really only in the past 3 or 4 years that I would say I have gotten "good" at de-cluttering. As a child, left to my own right-brained devices my backpack was a mess, my possessions were jumbled, papers got lost. At the age of 11, I really needed HELP.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I did NOT need was my teacher upending my desk and screaming at me in front of the whole class when I couldn't find something.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did not crumple externally. I remember standing there with a dumb half-grin on my face, too mortified to dare show it. But inside, I felt so small. And bad. And stupid. It marks, I think, the beginning of my adolescent self-loathing, of being limited by my own feelings of inadequacy and angst. I spent the remainder of my youth waiting for those I respected to upend my desk, literally or metaphorically. The experience didn't make me a more organized person. It just made me very certain that there was something "wrong" with me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had kind of forgotten all about the incident until a year or so ago, when one of my friends who teaches upper elementary told me about losing her cool towards one of her students. "This girl," she said, "is a sweet person, super smart and really a good kid, but her desk is such a MESS! I couldn't stand it! So today I dumped it out and made her sort through it in front of everyone."</div><div><br /></div><div>I stiffened, and felt a wave of disgust wash over me. I told her that a teacher did that to me once, and that it was really humiliating. My friend is not the kind of teacher who gets a charge out of embarrassing her students. Maybe the teacher who did that to me was not either. I looked her up when I started writing this post, and she's actually very highly acclaimed, leading symposiums and publishing research. Maybe she just had an off day, maybe she really thought I had potential and was frustrated with my self-limiting habits. Maybe, at the end of the day, she actually liked me. But when I think about it, even 20+ years later, I feel hated. And small. And ashamed.</div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-62051176856834666092010-11-02T14:47:00.003-04:002010-11-02T15:08:08.548-04:0030 Days of Truth: Day 7Day 07- Someone who has made your life worth living.<div><br /></div><div>Well, now. That's an easy one, isn't it? They drive me a little (or a lot) crazy sometimes, but their quirks, humor, personalities, and love make every day worth living.</div><div><br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMGzZ1hVVLL3Eql6qmP9A7CbXqkDi1UC4l08cmqetTyV7-4cYM6XzauvcZ10ERNrp5lWD4hhZ32FQzbFseSJ-V4IptLAmEwyDuUrG4nQwQC70zWX-OmkOPqNcP4MPW8WHkpBDQF58Nqs/s1600/IMG_0183.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMGzZ1hVVLL3Eql6qmP9A7CbXqkDi1UC4l08cmqetTyV7-4cYM6XzauvcZ10ERNrp5lWD4hhZ32FQzbFseSJ-V4IptLAmEwyDuUrG4nQwQC70zWX-OmkOPqNcP4MPW8WHkpBDQF58Nqs/s400/IMG_0183.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535028995360832258" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEqCvt6CkFaL6TTIq2iBoVmc3_7t82zS8Ew-aTlqRizsIrGKLP_zjNTzQP1QbWtMXqDLiuwduXH7k25yljbKIHKB1L_mX6GHkBxNE4ijzdSHEUsJBz0xxPsmqqzJYFJvY3wORNMdudt3M/s1600/IMG_0172.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEqCvt6CkFaL6TTIq2iBoVmc3_7t82zS8Ew-aTlqRizsIrGKLP_zjNTzQP1QbWtMXqDLiuwduXH7k25yljbKIHKB1L_mX6GHkBxNE4ijzdSHEUsJBz0xxPsmqqzJYFJvY3wORNMdudt3M/s400/IMG_0172.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535028994717425618" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsrzgfzkWCyV5uy97WARJS8C0Gas6y9RMRctgC840ZKs63OtWxkgZNge8mVgzzMcONalQhCRsMJBt8c0TDZwpVwGRJfag-JFyF_cymEfId89jEK1UB3pzeDFZbPxCMkwSO98DoQrMoVI/s1600/IMG_0533.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsrzgfzkWCyV5uy97WARJS8C0Gas6y9RMRctgC840ZKs63OtWxkgZNge8mVgzzMcONalQhCRsMJBt8c0TDZwpVwGRJfag-JFyF_cymEfId89jEK1UB3pzeDFZbPxCMkwSO98DoQrMoVI/s400/IMG_0533.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535029003569019650" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjpGzblZNDTTMn6E3IHLUS9974adgEfTTXDIaqtMf_pYupNcsLUtt6qaWZgUnQEDQywrGtF6FMX3xky0uyHBTSbw9wtd2ujBy0B_5w49z-N__huCey5dbu-JR94acFDJPmOuhg5VyMS8/s1600/IMG_0523.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjpGzblZNDTTMn6E3IHLUS9974adgEfTTXDIaqtMf_pYupNcsLUtt6qaWZgUnQEDQywrGtF6FMX3xky0uyHBTSbw9wtd2ujBy0B_5w49z-N__huCey5dbu-JR94acFDJPmOuhg5VyMS8/s400/IMG_0523.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535029008375388546" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ij4yBvio0SqUnlET23lOObHytqAnvq8qW7PCKAhVA6oKhF1zaSAuNImWO4xv4jbNugxxYy9vWV7o2z0elEbTyK9XTJi-zOlLNacwxDcDUVacN5fTyEp_JQG9kbCjK6F9gUmALw4s12Y/s1600/IMG_0147.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ij4yBvio0SqUnlET23lOObHytqAnvq8qW7PCKAhVA6oKhF1zaSAuNImWO4xv4jbNugxxYy9vWV7o2z0elEbTyK9XTJi-zOlLNacwxDcDUVacN5fTyEp_JQG9kbCjK6F9gUmALw4s12Y/s400/IMG_0147.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535029021841047586" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_Z9iqqGUUzQi7_iupCO7_xFuRfTTp98I7I59TtgQ5srlGjmqIrIqxHVIz7UwDQndvV6tT44PQdiD_cHwrIgzNZ6Fq_UCn3XqX3jDu2b4E_3twrQ-aYDeNr9csrf0eNbSlR7AGhdH6hw/s1600/IMG_0146.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_Z9iqqGUUzQi7_iupCO7_xFuRfTTp98I7I59TtgQ5srlGjmqIrIqxHVIz7UwDQndvV6tT44PQdiD_cHwrIgzNZ6Fq_UCn3XqX3jDu2b4E_3twrQ-aYDeNr9csrf0eNbSlR7AGhdH6hw/s400/IMG_0146.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535030507566882594" /></a><br /><br /><div>Have I mentioned (I'm almost afraid to) that they sleep now?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-88732761017151819132010-10-30T07:45:00.004-04:002010-10-31T16:01:22.646-04:0030 Days of Truth: Day 6Day 06- Something you hope you never have to do<div><br /></div><div>It's a fact. Your parents age. Generally speaking, (if you are lucky, I guess) you outlive them. I understand that it's more than likely that I will some day bury my parents. And while I'm not exactly thrilled at the notion, it is not the thing I hope I never have to do.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I fear, more than that, more than illness, and even more than death, is them losing themselves before their body gives out. I don't mind the notion of having to care for my parents in their old age: of being sure they are eating, and taking their medicines, and getting out and about when they want to, and keeping them company when they want it. I see it as my responsibility. I know how hard they worked to take care of me when I was dependent, and I am happy to return the favor. It's the thought of walking into their room and meeting blank eyes, the thought that I might have to re-introduce myself to those I love the most, that bothers me.</div><div><br /></div><div>It doesn't run in the family, Alzheimer's. My grandparents died because their bodies failed. My grandfather is in his late 80's and despite a stroke that has left him wheelchair bound, he is entirely "there." I hope it's something that we as a family do not have to endure. I have seen what it does to those suffering with it, how it confuses and agitates you to not know where you are, or who you are. I have witnessed how cruel it is to those trying to support its victims- making sacrifices and being met with hostility and sadness day after day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope I don't ever have to remind my parents of who I am.</div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-67262011882828049942010-10-25T15:33:00.003-04:002010-10-25T17:45:55.152-04:0030 Days of Truth: Day 5Day 05- Something you hope to do in your life.<div><br /></div><div>Well this one could be really easy or really hard. What sprung to mind immediately seems totally do-able but also not at all. I just want to catch up on my scrapbooking. It's kind of my only hobby right now, besides wiping butts, and I get a lot of fulfillment out of completing a page. But it's always satisfaction coupled with guilt and feeling overwhelmed at all the pages ahead of me. I think I have done pretty well-- I just did baby books last year and allowed my self the year off from scrapping, and right now I am only a couple of months behind, but STILL. A couple of months is like 30 pages. Seems a little insurmountable sometimes. Not to mention that I have 2 other books kind of started that I want to do for ME, and a whole box of my Elementary-HS memorabilia waiting to be some how organized and displayed. I need hours and hours and hours to do it all, and time is the thing I ain't got.</div><div><br /></div><div>But is this question supposed to be about something bigger? I guess, long term, I hope to have a fulfilling professional life. I loved being a tech, but it was not exactly a CAREER career, and I got a lot of satisfaction from teaching, but I'm not sure that was the end-all-be-all for me either. For now, I'm happy being a mom, and I hope I am lucky enough to stay at home until all of our kids are school aged, but I am not housewife material. If there are not kids at home, I want to work. I'm just not sure doing what.</div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-3549220074960965402010-10-24T14:32:00.002-04:002010-10-24T14:56:50.259-04:0030 Days of Truth: Day 4Only Day 4? I thought I was almost done. Guess not.<div><br /></div><div>Day 04- Something you have to forgive someone for.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, here's where the "truth" portion of this exercise goes out the window. The thing is, I am pretty forgiving, a peacemaker, and most unpleasantries I would honestly rather forgive and forget. But when I read this prompt something sprung to mind, something that might be unforgivable. I knew as soon as I thought it that I could never write it. It was too fresh, too close to home, and too horrific. And if you are thinking to yourself: "I'm pretty sure I know what she's referring to," you don't. I promise. That's all I have to say about that.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So. I have something else. Something that stings and probably always will.</div><div><br /></div><div>We got to be friends as soon as I moved to town. You adopted me like a big brother, showed me the ropes, watched my back, encouraged me in my career and were a true friend. You made me laugh and gave me courage. I followed you around like a puppy and took your word as gospel. We started working in different venues, and as the years passed and I started to spread my own wings, we crossed paths less often, and drifted apart. But we ended every conversation with "Love you," and you were always on the top of my list of people to talk to when I had news. </div><div><br /></div><div>I started to hear things about you: you were flaky. You weren't showing up for work. You were lazy. You were unreliable. This wasn't the you I knew, but it was true: I couldn't defend you from the facts. So I didn't.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why didn't you tell me? How could I not have guessed? Why did I have to hear it from your partner? Of course you were sick. Of course you were. You had been positive for a LONG time. Since the 80's. Since that kind of thing was a death sentence. How did I not know this YEARS AGO? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't I know? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?</div><div><br /></div><div>Did you assume that I had put it together? That I didn't care enough to call and see what was going on? Because I do. I care. If I had known, I would have helped. I would have defended your name. I would have tried to take care of you like you took care of me when I was the new kid.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love you. But now when I talk to you a part of me burns with regret. You lost your job. Because you were sick. You lost your insurance. Because you lost your job. You lost your partner of 20 years. Because you were depressed. Because everything collapsed. And I wasn't there for you. Because I didn't know.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish you would have let me be a better friend.</div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729572404681135569.post-27064655739776193592010-10-18T20:29:00.002-04:002010-10-18T20:47:14.490-04:0030 Days of Truth: Day 3This was 30 WEEK days of truth, right? Oh. Well, Crap. Sorry. I'll try harder.<div><br /></div><div>Day 03- Something you have to forgive yourself for.</div><div><br /></div><div>Forgive me, little ones. </div><div><br /></div><div>Forgive me for my moments of impatience, of short tempered annoyance, of frustration with you. For the moments I complained, wished for something other than exactly what I was living. For the moments I grumbled when I should have just sang you a little song. The times I was rough when I should have taken a deep breath. For the moments I cursed my post-baby body and set a terrible example of self-image. Forgive me for every moment I have ever taken you for granted.</div><div><br /></div><div>Please forgive me for being hard on myself. For being human. I want you to know that it's ok to lose your temper sometimes. It's ok to be sad, and lonely, and flawed, and to have a pudgy belly, as long as there's a reason for it. Nobody's perfect. Mama is just a human being, at the end of the day, and she makes mistakes, just like you will, and she has emotions and struggles, just like you do. It's healthy for you to see it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then why does it keep me awake at night?</div><div><br /></div><div>Forgive me, my little girls. And maybe some day I can forgive myself.</div><div><br /></div>LilBearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14394491820582249248noreply@blogger.com1