tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59245949618653494202024-03-05T22:30:11.824-05:00The Mommy ChroniclesA slice of my life...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.comBlogger305125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-33261249803162680152016-05-18T01:58:00.000-04:002016-05-18T01:58:01.262-04:00Getting through a divorce...So it's been a little while, no? The last time I wrote was January 2015, slightly less than 18 months ago. Holy cow has my life changed since then. I am forewarning you that there is cursing in this blog post. I am writing about some of my experiences that, in my honest opinion, needed some serious *fucks* to get through.<br />
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I am writing again because I have some friends who are in the same place I was 2 years ago. Newly separated, trying to wade through the murky waters of divorce, single parenthood, dating again or not, and living with their parents. Some of my friends have children, some do not. Some are living with their parents again, some are not. The common thread connecting all of us in this position is that we feel broken. It is so damn scary.<br />
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I don't have all the answers. I have stumbled through this craziness by the grace of God, the love and support of my family and friends, and lots of therapy. Mostly everything I am about to say was told to me by others. I still need it told to me at times. Maybe that is the real reason I am writing this down...so that I can take my own advice sometimes. Whatever the reason, I just had a strong feeling that I should write this in my blog today. I have started and stopped several posts over the past 18 months. This is the only one that has made it this far. Take what you need, leave the rest. All my love...Melanie Rose<br />
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<b>What do you do when you feel like you are completely broken?</b><br />
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<li><b>Reach out to someone...call, text, tap on the shoulder. </b>I had (have) drive to work phone call friends, walk into their office at work and tap on their shoulder friends, text in the middle of the night friends, and those who I would call and not say a word because I was crying so hard. You know what I mean. I know you do. And you need all of those kinds of people in your life right now.</li>
<li><b>Cry. Shout. Scream into a pillow. Bite the shit out of that pillow if you need to. </b>Before I actually left, I would cry in the shower or on the bathroom floor because that was the only place I could hide. Holding it in is not good for anyone. I tried to hold my shit together for my daughter, who was 6 years old at the time. But you know what, our lives were changing and parts were really, really shitty. Is pretending that everything is honky dory good for a child? I truly believe that it is a disservice. Emotions are normal. We need to let them know that moms (and dads) are feeling the same things they are. Be aware that you don't put the responsibility of making it better for you on them. I know my daughter takes on that role anyway. She hates to see me sad. But I tell her that it's a normal part of our human experience. None of us escape it. So when I needed to really let it out I made sure I was able to do it where and when she wouldn't be around. I would scream in my car. I would cry in the shower. And in my car. And when I was sleeping in her twin bed with her and could not move for fear of waking her, I would cry into, or bite, my pillow.</li>
<li><b>Hug the heck out of your kids</b> If you have children, hug them. Every second they allow it, let your love for them, and theirs for you wash over you like a wave of healing energy. Your love for your children is a very powerful force. Use it. Also, hugging them gives you the physical touch that you need right now. Let their touch heal you. </li>
<li><b>Go to your momma, grandma, aunt, best friend, sister, SOMEONE who loves you unconditionally and is not judging you for your decision, crawl into their lap and let them stroke your beautiful head and face and tell you that it is all going to be okay. </b>You need someone in your life who can do this for you. It may not be your mom. Not everyone has a mom, or maybe mom is not on the same page. I was blessed that my mom was right there with me. But, we also know that sometimes moms take on our pain, and maybe we need other people in our lives who can be this person, too. Allow someone else to care for you in this intimate, motherly way. </li>
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Here is the truth that you need to hear. You feel broken because you are broken. My beautiful lovelies, you are so broken. But it is okay. You are breaking open so that your beautiful soul and heart can emerge. You will be stronger than you ever imagined. You will be more YOU than you ever dreamed. You would not be in this place if this did not NEED to happen. You would feel more broken if you chose NOT to take this giant, scary step. Somewhere deep in your hurt, you know that with all of your being, you are being true to yourself by leaving. But it fucking hurts.</div>
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About 6 months before I actually left my ex, I was working at a summer camp. I was the cooking instructor and I had a free period and I was doing my prep, with tears streaming down my face. I had decided the day before that I was leaving my husband. I had not told him yet (or for months to come) but I knew in my heart that it was over. A woman I did not know very well was walking by and saw me, stopping to ask if I was okay. I told her that, no, I was really not okay. This woman who I barely knew told me this, "This next year is going to suck. It is not going to be better 1 month from now or 3 months from now. But a year from now, it will be a little bit better. And each day after that it will be a bit better until you realize that you are good. And this process, it takes time. It does not go away by trying to avoid it. So just go through it. You'll survive. You may not feel like you will, but you actually will. And you will be a better person and mom for it." I don't even remember this woman's name. She had never been through a divorce, but her best friend had and we were all around the same age. I found her bluntness to be comforting and her words true.</div>
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Which brings me to my final words for today. Sometimes you will need to take this one day at a time. Sometimes it will be one hour at a time. And sometimes it will be one fucking minute at a time. And you need to swallow your pride and gather your tribe around you. Whoever it is....brothers, sisters, family, friends....gather them in and let them support you. You will make it through this. Let those who love you hold you up.</div>
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Thank you for listening my lovelies. I don't know if there someone else out there who needed to read this today, but I felt a strong feeling that I needed to share it. xoxo</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-89629429588181233932015-01-22T01:17:00.002-05:002015-01-22T11:40:11.566-05:00What I missAs much as I am relieved that I am <a href="http://melaniesmommychronicles.blogspot.com/2014/11/my-new-road.html" target="_blank">no longer married</a>, and that I am able to move forward in my life, there are some moments in which I remember what I miss.<br />
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It started innocently enough, when I absentmindedly tried to twirl my wedding ring. I have not worn a ring on my left hand in almost 10 months. So it seemed out of the blue that I suddenly realized it was not there. I started to panic, thinking that I forgot it, until I remembered that I no longer wear it. It no longer belongs on my finger. Frankly, I had not been wearing it all that regularly during the last several months before I moved out. It felt like a lie, wearing that ring. Looking at it would bring me to tears because it was given and received with hopes and dreams that were not realized.<br />
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Thinking about my ring led me down a train of thought that I do not often take. I wouldn't call it feeling sorry for myself. I was taking a look at my reality and how it makes me feel. Granted, it does not help that my would-be-wedding anniversary is approaching next week; the first since my divorce. Or maybe that was the original catalyst in all this.<br />
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I miss having a partner. I know, I know. I have not had a partner in years. I am not sure we ever were true partners. There were moments, but it was always an uphill battle. I was often lonely and felt alone. I always wanted a partner, someone I could lean on, and who could lean on me. It's hard, always being the strong one.<br />
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Yesterday Lilly had an issue in school. She was injured, by her own doing. She scratched her cornea throwing a ball in gym class. She is her mother's daughter, after all. Anyway, it was a bit of a stressful evening. She is fine now, but that Momma moment had already occurred. My mom helped a lot and was great. I am so grateful to my parents for all the help they give me all the time. <br />
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But. The realization that I am <b>the</b> person responsible for her weighed heavily on me. And it made me yearn for a partner. I still wish I had someone that could just hug me, hold me, tell me that it is going to be fine, that I did a good job being a mom that day.It would be so nice to have someone to lean on and into once in awhile. I still hope I'll have that one day...<br />
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p.s. I have been receiving texts from a few of my best friends letting me know that I can lean on them. I am incredibly grateful for my friends. Without them, I would not be standing as tall as I am today, for they surely have been holding me up this whole time.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-48002093826294401312015-01-11T00:45:00.000-05:002015-01-11T20:36:32.869-05:00Let's Just Call This a Cul-De-Sac<div>
Most of you know by now, or from <a href="http://melaniesmommychronicles.blogspot.com/2014/11/my-new-road.html" target="_blank">reading here</a> a few months back, that I am divorced. And as such, I have ventured into the world of dating. At 39. With a child, and all things that accompany said child. Like... limited availability, time to talk only when she is asleep or maybe in the bathtub, and please, PLEASE do not send inappropriate texts because she is learning to read and sounds out *everything* on my phone. Get it? Good. And of course there are things that I would like to forget but cannot, like stretch marks. </div>
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My mom, in her mom-wisdom, suggested that maybe I should wait to date. Give myself some time. I had waited enough time, I thought. I was not about to waste any more valuable time. I wanted to get out there and prove that I was good. I was ready. I was happy, dammit. </div>
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I rather accidentally started dating someone I kind of knew from awhile back. I asked him to hang out one weekend. No intention of it leading anywhere. But it kind of did. And neither of us was quite sure what was going on, or where things were going. After a little while, we talked about it and came to a decision. Okay, yes, this is what it is, but it was not like, life-commitment status. It was a "take it one step at a time" thing. He is a really nice guy, who is very attractive, has a job, can carry on an intelligent conversation, likes sports, and lives on his own. When you get out there in this new fangled dating world, you realize that this is nothing short of a miracle, indeed. </div>
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And then things changed, shifted. I noticed it, but couldn't quite put my finger on it. But it was holiday time. Holidays are so emotionally charged, as it is, so I tried not to pay attention to it, until I could not help but pay attention to it. And one thing we told each other from the beginning was that we would just be honest and communicate about whatever was going on.<br />
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To respect his privacy, I am not giving any more details, but bottom line is that it ended. Well, he ended it. I would have given it more time. Whatever "it" was. While we were talking, and even while I was talking to my friend about the situation before he and I spoke, I knew that this road I had taken was not meant to be continued. At least not in the same way. </div>
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I am really sad about this relationship ending. I was feeling a bit crazy for feeling that, because, after all, I know that this was not meant to continue. In the quiet of my mind, when I listened to my heart, I knew that, regardless of the connection/chemistry we have, it was not enough. Something was missing. I can't tell you what, but...something. And obviously, he felt the same way about me. We always said we had a good time together, but obviously something was missing for him, too. Really, he was the brave one for ending it. </div>
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And then I had a realization today. It was like a slap upside the head. Of course, it is entirely possible that God tried to whisper it to me, but I am not always a very good listener because I am too busy, ahem, TALKING. This is what came to me...</div>
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<i>It's okay. It's possible to have true and deep understanding and clarity that a certain situation and/or relationship is not meant to last longer than it has AND to still be profoundly and deeply sad about it's end.</i> </div>
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It is okay for me to be sad about this. And cry, and lick my wounds. One of my friends suggested I also lick some lime, salt, and tequila. :) I'm not a tequila girl, but red wine should do the trick. And cupcakes. Nutella cupcakes. I spent some time tonight with one of my girlfriends, who is also newly divorced. We ate Snickers-stuffed Nutella cupcakes. They were as amazing as they sound. </div>
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More importantly, I have realized that I need to take a break. I have decided that, at least until my 40th birthday, I am not going to date or go to online dating sites. That is another whole post altogether, the online dating fiasco. I am giving myself this gift of time. To get healthier, both physically and emotionally. Figure out what I want. Learn to love myself a little bit more again. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-24958710829740947002014-12-04T22:39:00.002-05:002014-12-05T04:57:37.825-05:00The Racial DivideIf you know me, you probably know by now that I often process things by talking about them and by writing about them. I sometimes get really quiet first, and go within. But the need to let it out inevitably comes.<br />
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The problem this time is, that I have no answers. I don't know what to say. But I know that not saying anything, is NOT the answer. I am talking about the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/30/us/raised-hands-and-the-doubts-of-a-grand-jury-.html?action=click&contentCollection=U.S.&module=RelatedCoverage&region=Marginalia&pgtype=article" target="_blank">police shooting of Michael Brown</a> and the <a href="http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/12/03/the-death-of-eric-garner-the-grand-jury-decision/?module=Search&mabReward=relbias%3Ar%2C%7B%222%22%3A%22RI%3A18%22%7D" target="_blank">death of Eric Garner in Staten Island</a> and what is really a huge racial divide in our country.<br />
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Here is what I will say. I am so sad about what has happened. I am so, so sad about the very real possibility of it happening again, and that it could happen to someone I know and love. I am sad that people I know and love have to even think about this, ever.<br />
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Like many, I've been glued to my twitter feed and news outlets. My thoughts about this all have been a bit disjointed. Here are some of what I've been thinking...<br />
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1. Within the past year, I was out to breakfast with one of my besties. We were at a very well-known and loved establishment in my very liberal town. We had a delicious meal and great service. Our waitress was sweet and friendly. And when the bill came, it was placed in front of me. Not in the middle of the table, where there was plenty of room. Not in front of my friend. There was no question of who was paying this bill. And the waitress was dead-on wrong; my friend happened to be treating me that day. We both stared at it sitting in front of me for a moment, nodded our heads and acknowledged that we both saw the same thing.<br />
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2. The majority of my career, up to this point has been spent teaching young children, most of whom are minorities. I know that the children I taught in Newark, who are now turning 15, 16, and 17-years-old are at risk. They are at risk for a lot of things...drug abuse, gang violence, dropping out of school, and yes, for being targeted by the police. I took care of them like they were my own babies, and this hurts me.<br />
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3. Lilly does not see color in the way that the world does yet. I would like to preserve that as long as I can. She's 6. She may use it to describe a friend in the same way she uses hair color. And that is it. She was describing her "crush" the first month of school. "His name is James. He is taller than me. He has short brown hair. He talks a lot. He's nice. He gave me this ring. (?!) He's an oldster. (a 2nd grader) His skin is brown. And his eyes are black." </div>
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4. White privilege exists. I wish it didn't. I don't know what to do about it. But for my babies who I taught in Newark and Hoboken; my friends; my friend's children; my neighbors; Lilly's friends...I want to figure it out. How do we stop this?<br />
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What can we do? Talk about it, even if it is uncomfortable. Be respectful. Listen. Keep an open mind. Love. Because I still have hope that love wins.<br />
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What do YOU think we can or should do?<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-7381464523072527632014-11-13T00:49:00.000-05:002014-11-13T00:49:07.305-05:00My new roadSo much for writing regularly, as I had hoped back in August. Life, as usual, got in the way. I have been teaching, learning my new job, being a mom, and, oh, yeah, getting divorced. It's official now, I am once again Melanie Rose Fleming. People have asked me how it feels, if I am upset, or if I cried.<br />
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The only way I can describe it is this: It is like a sigh of relief. That is not to say that I do not have a long road ahead of me as I traverse my new life. I still have some messes to clean up from before, financially. I am now, not only single at 39, but a single mom with full legal custody of an amazing but rather precocious 6 year old. The road ahead may be rocky, or full of overgrown weeds. I am guaranteed to find a few dead ends. Some parts are going to seem like they are all uphill, with the rewarding views far in the distance. I am trying to enjoy everything, one step at a time. And you know, I have been wanting to get back into hiking for awhile now. :-)<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-74969798982537868862014-09-14T20:30:00.000-04:002014-09-14T22:52:14.827-04:00Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes....Change is hard. Even when it is good change, it can be so overwhelming. I feel as if my life is filled with uncertainty right now. I am in the middle of a divorce. I am on the brink of a career change. I had not really thought of it in that way, but my day-to-day duties will be very different than what I am currently doing. I also started teaching as an adjunct professor. It is exciting to take what I know and have learned over the years and teach it to the future teachers of our world.<br />
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I am so blessed to have these opportunities and I am having fun with them. But it also causes that pit in my stomach that I cannot quite get rid of right now. What if I made the wrong choice? What if I fail? I HATE to fail. But...if I have learned anything over the last few years, it is that staying static does not improve situations. I have also learned that life moves forward, with or without you, whether you are involved or not. You might as well choose your path, before it is chosen for you.</div>
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So. Here I go...onward and upward into the unknown. I have really awesome friends and family who are supporting me along the way. I have people in my life who see things for me and about me that I have trouble seeing sometimes, and for that I am grateful. It is important for me to surround myself with people who <i style="font-weight: bold;">know me</i>; the real, nitty-gritty me. And they believe, not in spite of who I am, but because of who I am. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-49799988152404477202014-08-24T15:20:00.002-04:002014-08-24T17:20:45.220-04:00Vacation by MyselfI just came back from going on vacation by myself. Well, I did a lot of driving by myself, but I stayed with friends. It was glorious and much needed. I drove from New Jersey to North Carolina to spend some time with my college bestie, Michelle. I stopped along the way in Virginia and spent some time catching up with other friends and a cousin. I drank large margaritas, ate delicious food, drank lots of wine, danced, and even sang karaoke for the first time. Note to self: practice that before doing it in public again... haha. I drove with my music blasting, singing along to either my ipod playlists or the satellite radio. Hello, 80s and 90s stations! I really enjoyed my time, but missed Lilly enough to make coming home welcome. Having her 6 year-old self wrapped around me when I got home was the best!<br />
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I would have never thought that I could enjoy myself while being away from my daughter for so many days. I always worried about her so much, even if I left for more than a couple hours. But, I knew she was in good hands with her grandmother and then my mom. She even got to spend the day with my SIL and niece, which was a huge hit.<br />
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As moms, we put ourselves last. I have been doing it for so long, and to such extremes with my recent situation, that it took me some time to realize that it is okay. By taking care of myself, I am taking care of my daughter. I needed that time to turn my brain off for awhile. At times I used the solitude during long stretches of beautiful North Carolina and Virginia roads to turn it back on, sort of in the background, just to let myself feel and think and BE, without anyone asking me questions or needing something from me. I was not lonely, even when I was by myself, but more notably, especially not when I was with others. I processed...dreamed...hoped.<br />
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I felt more <i style="font-weight: bold;">Melanie</i> than I have in a long time. It was nice to be with her again. She plans on staying for the duration.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vacay selfie, with btw, no make up. Not bad for 39!</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-15378423661458579632014-08-09T08:56:00.002-04:002014-08-09T09:42:10.503-04:00I'm baack...Hi y'all. I'm back. Not that I really went away; I had a self-imposed blog-break. Why, Melanie? Why have you not been writing your fabulous blog posts for us? Listen, I am not that self-important enough to think that any of you are thinking this. I write because writers have to write. It is just kind of how it is. Artists gotta do their art thing. Athletes have to move and be active. Writers gotta write. I cannot have this self-imposed silence any longer. So I am just going to come out with it and say it and then we can move on to bigger, better, more exciting topics. Okay? Okay. <br />
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Over the past year I had come to the realization that the changes that needed to happen in order for my marriage to be successful were not going to happen. I stayed until I could no longer stay. In April, I moved with my daughter to my parent's house just a few miles down the road. I am currently in the process of a divorce. I was waiting for it to be final to share this information, but I have no idea how long that is going to take and as I said before, I have to write!<br />
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I do not intend on writing about the ins and outs of my situation here, as it is not appropriate. However, you may find a post or two about parenting through divorce, or being newly-single at the age of 39.<br />
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Know that I am doing well. I am strong and so is Lilly. In fact, I am realizing just how strong we both are. This does not mean that I do not have meltdowns and "wtf happened to my life" moments. I have amazing family and friends who immediately stepped up to the plate to help however and whenever I needed. I have had some really, really difficult moments. I have cried more in the past few months than I have in years. At the same time, my daily stress levels are lower. Lilly is doing extremely well, especially given the circumstances. She has outbursts and moments, but she has a fast recovery time and I am using them as teaching moments about managing her emotions and self-regulation.<br />
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So. Thanks for your patience, understanding, and support. I hope to be writing with some degree of regularity now. I will leave you with a few pictures so you can see that Lilly and I? We are doing just fine, my friends.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe3N-RvkkMhhH6fDKu7B3-v5qodvNgsmSBxHEFAGYymoynSxKoaiG2f1Gxa2KtKcInzz5csZwXhbNdwxHbMSNVdx6Vgo2IsFHWx6E3m_5EKWVQ_aMKFSnZWClGeWGf1Nnkr2ASbb1mK2c/s1600/IMG_6444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe3N-RvkkMhhH6fDKu7B3-v5qodvNgsmSBxHEFAGYymoynSxKoaiG2f1Gxa2KtKcInzz5csZwXhbNdwxHbMSNVdx6Vgo2IsFHWx6E3m_5EKWVQ_aMKFSnZWClGeWGf1Nnkr2ASbb1mK2c/s1600/IMG_6444.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happiness Selfie with Lilly</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1oIifn9oOZS3ozL5ZPcC5spFQRt1LR1rarx0EzDkVDsbaO0LsxnHf1k0uFl8uT9_WVQf5vSZ2f7aDc3Dpj9UkeljhgsQtWpAPuE-q-5GXAXf3q2Sl2J3hH6QalXFFrwui75tBJxggp4/s1600/IMG_6657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1oIifn9oOZS3ozL5ZPcC5spFQRt1LR1rarx0EzDkVDsbaO0LsxnHf1k0uFl8uT9_WVQf5vSZ2f7aDc3Dpj9UkeljhgsQtWpAPuE-q-5GXAXf3q2Sl2J3hH6QalXFFrwui75tBJxggp4/s1600/IMG_6657.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Springtime Sprinkler Fun</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7w9T716TEU6MxdD0RpwMxpf2rIJ3pJFCrXv8jW6EYn9cj4-NUEByHywLt3DxFSB3QVr_nllr8xSUtrqd9nP3Ez-Ot8GutW-LLXZijG6rpDsSlYchcS7f8MFc0QkcJa-UEMEkiH1CzN34/s1600/IMG_7656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7w9T716TEU6MxdD0RpwMxpf2rIJ3pJFCrXv8jW6EYn9cj4-NUEByHywLt3DxFSB3QVr_nllr8xSUtrqd9nP3Ez-Ot8GutW-LLXZijG6rpDsSlYchcS7f8MFc0QkcJa-UEMEkiH1CzN34/s1600/IMG_7656.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moving Day Motivation, "This is Strong."</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-49652338173727245802014-04-30T10:55:00.001-04:002014-04-30T11:00:33.883-04:00Oh my...Well. It has been a while since I have written here. I have a lot of things going on, personally, and I cannot write about them here right now. What's rather ironic is that I have a lot to say. Lots and lots. I am a talker and a writer. I want to talk everything out and at the same time I want to write down all my thoughts. And here, on my blog, I tend to write what I want to say. I don't have to write about what other people think, or want to hear. It is my place to write what I want, how I want, everyone else's opinions be damned. <br />
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But I do try not to hurt people purposefully. Because above all, I believe that I am a kind and good person. And in those circumstances when what I am thinking or want to say is hurtful or maybe just not public-forum-stuff, well, then I need to be quiet. And write in a private (read: not online) journal because the writing, too, has an important place in my life. It helps me to reflect, to sort things through. Sometimes it helps me to breathe, just getting those thoughts out of my head.<br />
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So I ask you to bear with me during my self-imposed blog silence. I am doing well. Better than well, at times. And hey, I am doing the NJ Mudderella race on May 10th (the day after my, gulp, 39th, birthday) with some awesome high school mates. I think it is just the thing I need right now. Because we are stronger than we realize, all of us, especially when we have amazing family and friends surrounding us. I will be sure to post some pictures of the awesomeness that will be me covered in mud and smiling.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-86777463406512648992013-10-29T23:10:00.000-04:002013-10-29T23:13:51.830-04:00new kindergarten update, plus zip lining!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91KEDwQhTEiHDLYIWd0kfVddctmZX_qgKi-BiC2bviWZuG86lO800xPT8P0B8dztSDwLc40Mxs9NzBkjF_tvNMVKgxQuQCxol30KsTzLRgDUP3p425VWGDtHzQ8Ar_KC2tjkTH_oiq2U/s1600/IMG_3816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91KEDwQhTEiHDLYIWd0kfVddctmZX_qgKi-BiC2bviWZuG86lO800xPT8P0B8dztSDwLc40Mxs9NzBkjF_tvNMVKgxQuQCxol30KsTzLRgDUP3p425VWGDtHzQ8Ar_KC2tjkTH_oiq2U/s400/IMG_3816.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
In my <a href="http://melanierosecappiello.blogspot.com/2013/10/a-moms-lesson-in-bullyingand-trust.html" target="_blank">last post</a> I explained why I was taking Lilly out of the kindergarten where she was and place her in my home district. Lilly has been there for 2 weeks. Almost immediately she seemed much calmer at home. The morning time anxiety that we had been seeing was greatly reduced. On the 2nd day she did decide that she had changed her mind and wanted to go back to school with me. Once she realized that was not a viable option, she moved forward and has been doing great!<br />
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We are helping her catch up with the curriculum. She is working very hard on learning her letters, manuscript-style, because this district places importance on it, whereas the last one did not. She also has tons more homework every night. Most importantly, she has made friends, and she is happy! <br />
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Lilly had a big day this past weekend when she attended <a href="http://campriverbend.wordpress.com/2013/10/28/family-camp-day-2013/" target="_blank">Camp Riverbend's Family Camp Day</a>. My parents came to walk around with her, since Vinnie was working. Lilly went to the high ropes course, climbed the high wall, and then zip lined down. I was insanely proud of her when I found out! I am so grateful my parents were there to encourage her and cheer her on while I was doing my baking thing with the other families. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgLMPKV1kAWNY27xs8qTemp142H0myVAZbZ-sB5O3XmXpS7eUd80xGUyu-iDl0p-JJsmefPthLw5UOpaRW6KZirP1DYC3N234oxAKWaWAUq2XfFpjPM2pJF80NDBLl6WBsmBSbIjhuB4/s1600/IMG_3896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgLMPKV1kAWNY27xs8qTemp142H0myVAZbZ-sB5O3XmXpS7eUd80xGUyu-iDl0p-JJsmefPthLw5UOpaRW6KZirP1DYC3N234oxAKWaWAUq2XfFpjPM2pJF80NDBLl6WBsmBSbIjhuB4/s320/IMG_3896.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">climbing the wall</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LwM5Kc2578-LqcpuQWuR0xzFz_mgxrKAX9UZCfF4F-rNngRx2bqrQy5gU-TzFzKksBzgvrz6nfUKIgefUkeuAi4Xe1yJhycYco2RZByHzWTf9rfhSjDT-hFpzzw8oaRtDfK-RB4Ai_Q/s1600/IMG_3897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LwM5Kc2578-LqcpuQWuR0xzFz_mgxrKAX9UZCfF4F-rNngRx2bqrQy5gU-TzFzKksBzgvrz6nfUKIgefUkeuAi4Xe1yJhycYco2RZByHzWTf9rfhSjDT-hFpzzw8oaRtDfK-RB4Ai_Q/s320/IMG_3897.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">she made it to the top</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkZ8Rv2S6rZI0rG1OiaX5giGV9FmvU1KhDkJFKkRkWek1TlOJZt2cbJK2aA4cJOx5m86tojEkefdp9gbvdu1Tecn1VGSoi_jkfRYrNkE6KUw4cHmokdhJQk4cK-jVlQb5FuDOkRGJxFg/s1600/IMG_3891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkZ8Rv2S6rZI0rG1OiaX5giGV9FmvU1KhDkJFKkRkWek1TlOJZt2cbJK2aA4cJOx5m86tojEkefdp9gbvdu1Tecn1VGSoi_jkfRYrNkE6KUw4cHmokdhJQk4cK-jVlQb5FuDOkRGJxFg/s320/IMG_3891.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">zip line!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfolQsrPDsvAwdbdeaPquU-1IGDRh0ticVcX37a7MUI2mozayGXSKjhgt7jubNrurRJhNYuOx8RjmnK5_yo-Hy7MMpvonRjFwztaJziWylV4zk4ypWtFZLUkMfnzWwxWysAq4RCelZg8/s1600/IMG_3908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfolQsrPDsvAwdbdeaPquU-1IGDRh0ticVcX37a7MUI2mozayGXSKjhgt7jubNrurRJhNYuOx8RjmnK5_yo-Hy7MMpvonRjFwztaJziWylV4zk4ypWtFZLUkMfnzWwxWysAq4RCelZg8/s320/IMG_3908.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the swing. Love that smile!</td></tr>
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Next up...Halloween!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-18169369807609711742013-10-12T01:23:00.000-04:002013-10-12T01:23:32.683-04:00A mom's lesson in bullying...and trust<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have written about bullying <a href="http://melanierosecappiello.blogspot.com/2011/09/bullying.html" target="_blank">before</a>, referring to my own experiences as a child who was bullied. I have gone to anti-bullying seminars as a camp counselor and as a teacher. I did not think that I would be thinking about bullying and my 5 year-old daughter who is in kindergarten. I thought had a few years to deal with that. I was wrong. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To be clear, I do not know or think that Lilly was bullied in the sense of what the new laws call bullying. But old-fashioned bullying? Yeah, that happened to my kindergartner. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It started with headaches and stomachaches in the morning. Crying, telling me that she didn't want to go to school. Classic signs that something was wrong. It took a little while to tease out the situation, especially because Lilly was commuting with me into Hoboken each day. It is a long, sometimes ardous commute. I wondered if it was the commute alone that was causing her distress. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">About 2 weeks ago it came to my attention, because Lilly tells all, that a certain child in her class was bothering her. Usually physically (punching, hitting, etc.) but also doing some other things that really frightened her and made her feel uncomfortable. I wrote to the teacher and principal and was told they were working on the issue, because it was not just my daughter being targeted. However, the incidents kept occuring. Little ones, but something every day. It was notable to Lilly when she had a day without an incident. Yikes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here is where it gets a little tricky. Lilly goes to the school where I work. Her principal is my boss; her teacher my colleague. Our district allows BOE employees to bring their children into the district for schooling. (with special permissions, of course) I had an inkling that the commute might be too much for Lilly. Heck, it's too much for me some days. Lilly is such a good kid and rule follower that I had not anticipated problems in th classroom. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The bottom line is that I realized that Lilly did not feel safe, emotionally or physically, in that classroom. The school did offer other solutions, but combined with our crazy commute, my husband and I decided the best action to take would be to put her in our town school system. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our new school staff has so far been a pleasure to work with, even holding a space for her in the room I requested. Lilly is going to be with her BFF Christian, about which she is over the moon excited. She will not have to be in the car for an hour each way. She will eat breakfast at home, not in the car, and Daddy will bring her to school. She will not be so exhausted that we cannot do anything after school. We had not been able to start Irish dance yet or even see her MumMum who lives the next town over because of the sheer exhaustion that we both have had. She was tired and super cranky every day. It was noticable to other people, even. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I was getting so concerned with doing the right thing for Lilly. I wanted her to know that she could get through this difficult situation and we would face it head on together. I did not want her to think it was okay to quit or run away because it was hard. However, I really wanted her to know that I trusted her feelings and intuition. She may not have been able to tell me that she felt unsafe in so many words. But she told me the actions and words of others, and I saw her reactions to situations. I needed to listen to my daughter. I needed to trust her feelings, and she needed to <b><i>know </i></b>that I trusted her feelings. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am confident that Vinnie and I took the correct action for Lilly's well-being. I am excited for her as she begins this new chapter of kindergarten. Lessons learned from this? Trust your child. Be their advocate. Trust your parent intuition. You know your child best. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-43708357260129681752013-10-10T01:10:00.001-04:002013-10-10T01:10:43.454-04:00Mini Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjpKO0tJ2c6UKV59sZNjafEuYNlU87wHB5R94Of6fjurmBRl3czC7vYLt2RDBlNFLYP5xURjp3Qr55FzkOzewUR_5f6ztu-ZBUwWCxdsv2JRw2i3nCYmVioEK5ncYmYCBT1y31Y99wW_0/s1600/IMG_3768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjpKO0tJ2c6UKV59sZNjafEuYNlU87wHB5R94Of6fjurmBRl3czC7vYLt2RDBlNFLYP5xURjp3Qr55FzkOzewUR_5f6ztu-ZBUwWCxdsv2JRw2i3nCYmVioEK5ncYmYCBT1y31Y99wW_0/s320/IMG_3768.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Seriously, how sweet is my Lilly? Holding me around the neck, ear to ear Momma, she said. I love these captured moments. Those eyes...I can get as lost in her soulful brown eyes today as the moment she first looked into mine. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-88699908476732275492013-10-05T16:22:00.002-04:002013-10-05T18:47:22.512-04:00The wedding!I had <a href="http://melanierosecappiello.blogspot.com/2013/09/pre-wedding-jitters.html" target="_blank">posted</a> last about the wedding I was going to be in. Well, a week ago my sister-in-law married her "hunk-of-love," as Lilly calls him. It was a great day all around. We had beautiful weather, and Gina & Anthony had done a magnificent job with the planning. It was a seriously fun wedding! <br />
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Without much ado, here are some pictures that I <b><i>know</i></b> you have all been waiting on the edge of your seat to see. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XSEl-lZfA3UUY2b9JhQfQNUvjJgLlKLzmURvf1CONLx-oLEEJLbdpY8BO2y3TNnYZt6kdwB5wtwWXsd2WtphwFWq3hWKo1rIAoX0VF6UilsyiFtF6DRFcOAhJ1rr3AFSl0qgCZft5Rg/s1600/IMG_3680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XSEl-lZfA3UUY2b9JhQfQNUvjJgLlKLzmURvf1CONLx-oLEEJLbdpY8BO2y3TNnYZt6kdwB5wtwWXsd2WtphwFWq3hWKo1rIAoX0VF6UilsyiFtF6DRFcOAhJ1rr3AFSl0qgCZft5Rg/s320/IMG_3680.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">on our way!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVrtmhgiCzcjL7POhwEsHyuXYYZu50-qLICG5FTUJi8IIwAyY0vlY-mvh9ausOu4aXWJSjHZ40raOQSjV_UbULfvc1GUrpzJFB7qzRPq8i0BY4cVohufLilN2ci6hhXDNV4nMYUiMwss/s1600/IMG_3682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVrtmhgiCzcjL7POhwEsHyuXYYZu50-qLICG5FTUJi8IIwAyY0vlY-mvh9ausOu4aXWJSjHZ40raOQSjV_UbULfvc1GUrpzJFB7qzRPq8i0BY4cVohufLilN2ci6hhXDNV4nMYUiMwss/s320/IMG_3682.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">walking in with her daddy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtGttS1Smse5FxmFsMRlUcyERFp-Xj0H4YETDa9g0utuhx0rlogresbM2LwoUuMlGaVyeO7G2y3kDgDU9JYrkf2jKvG6JaTcvcY36NChMeMnwws4AtlRWaWRewW1nSHm0n3lls5jagYfc/s1600/IMG_3683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtGttS1Smse5FxmFsMRlUcyERFp-Xj0H4YETDa9g0utuhx0rlogresbM2LwoUuMlGaVyeO7G2y3kDgDU9JYrkf2jKvG6JaTcvcY36NChMeMnwws4AtlRWaWRewW1nSHm0n3lls5jagYfc/s320/IMG_3683.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">daddy's girl</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the gorgeous bride!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Steel with my other SIL Bri</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-18041717734267158252013-09-22T23:09:00.000-04:002013-09-22T23:09:18.611-04:00pre-wedding jittersI'm in a wedding next week. Yay! for my sweet sister-in-law and her awesome hubby-to-be. But holy GAH! I am not feeling ready to be in my very cute dress. You'd think that I would have considered this, oh, maybe a year ago. In all fairness, I did actually consider it, but the actual doing-something-about-it did not happen so much. I have had a few false starts. I have had some very real challenges, like thyroid stuff, that does not help matters. I have had a lot of chocolate. And bread. I love bread.<br />
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But truly, I feel this past year, as I move closer to (gulp) 40, I have spent time getting to know <i>me </i>a little bit better. I know, I know...I only turned 38 this year. But hear me out. I have spent time doing yoga, meditating, and really contemplating my future, and where I am going. I have spent true quality time with my little girl. I worked at a summer camp that I love. I have been blessed to get to know friends better. There are other things, too, that I have learned about myself. Private-ish things, but all good. All leading me to where I am today. It is a good place to be, feeling more confident about yourself.<br />
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About a week ago, when I realized that the wedding was in 2 weeks, I started to panic a bit. But then I stopped myself and told myself that #1. I will not be the center of attention and #2. I am <strike>okay</strike> good the way I am. And then I would google juice fast and lemonade diet to see if they were feasible. <i>Are they? Just kidding. Kind of. </i>And just as quickly I would tell myself <b>ENOUGH. </b> Seriously. This is insane. I have spent so much time trying to accept myself where and how I am but those thoughts that I need to weigh less or look thinner are still sneaking in there. It's maddening, actually. <br />
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So just for tonight, I will be okay where I am. And I will wonder when "Give a shout out" became popular again while I watch the Emmys. <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-51198543165473525892013-09-13T23:31:00.001-04:002013-09-13T23:31:30.603-04:00ew.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvltHOjBKyoVPgJeydU9db3f9AL-ECNOhxXE78IZEfEMfc2ezObyma7FAzhfLdK2F2ZYN9s8th6_kfAP_HgHWlA1P8qrIdOTsy-EHNJfpODGkhvo8OZ989OiOK_Em00_nXen15zGHfRdw/s1600/IMG_3643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvltHOjBKyoVPgJeydU9db3f9AL-ECNOhxXE78IZEfEMfc2ezObyma7FAzhfLdK2F2ZYN9s8th6_kfAP_HgHWlA1P8qrIdOTsy-EHNJfpODGkhvo8OZ989OiOK_Em00_nXen15zGHfRdw/s320/IMG_3643.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Above my kitchen sink.</td></tr>
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You might wonder what that insect is. I certainly did when it appeared in my kitchen this evening. It is such a beautiful night afternasty humidity all week that we opened the back door to let the breeze in. And apparently the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ichneumonoidea" target="_blank">icheumonoidea</a>. The insect with a name as long as its tail. That, by the way, does not sting humans, but is used to insert its eggs into another living insect. Lovely. I have never seen anything like it, and really hope that it was the last I will ever see. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I zoomed in. That long line is its tail.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And....dead in the kitchen sink after being wacked by my flip flop and sprayed by Method counter spray. It kind of made me wish for toxic chemicals. </td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-26095305632196264992013-09-11T21:24:00.001-04:002013-09-11T23:30:41.474-04:00PeaceThis morning on our way to school, Lilly and I prayed the rosary for peace. I felt called to do so last night as I was watching President Obama's speech about Syria. When I am driving to school, I am basically driving as close to NYC as I can get without going through a tunnel. Hence, I see the Empire State Building and the Freedom Tower every day. This year I explained to Lilly in the most simplistic (age-appropriate) way possible <i>why</i> there is a Freedom Tower. We include the people who keep us safe in our nightly bedtime prayers. It is never, ever an easy thing to discuss violence with our chidlren, but I believe it is as important as it is hard to do. <br />
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It takes a lot longer to say the rosary with a 5 year old, but I believe those prayers...those of our children...are heard loudest of all. Her vision of peace is most likely a lot different than mine. But doesn't it start with our 5 year olds? If our 5 year olds do not have peace in their lives, I cannot see how they can grow up to be peaceful adults. <br />
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So today, and every day, let us PRAY for peace. Let us TEACH peace. Let us ACT peacefully. And let it begin with ourselves. And our little ones. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-81588037042473315682013-09-11T00:13:00.002-04:002013-09-11T23:41:22.510-04:00My baby is in kindergarten!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0DVgY3QTYkPuX2wctHnShFZFELAMND2YN4oxmKEfncKq47ZMjTdSZPjU-wo7ZebBld_YvtMMlxSih0jyokAwKfg36eDKGVg02T7oeyaaoitnkV2kuYqZRLrdkD2kQDb9Dwtx6ntMT9U/s1600/IMG_3624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0DVgY3QTYkPuX2wctHnShFZFELAMND2YN4oxmKEfncKq47ZMjTdSZPjU-wo7ZebBld_YvtMMlxSih0jyokAwKfg36eDKGVg02T7oeyaaoitnkV2kuYqZRLrdkD2kQDb9Dwtx6ntMT9U/s320/IMG_3624.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lilly's 1st Day of Kindergarten. </td></tr>
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I feel like Lilly should be entering preschool for the first time, or even just learning to walk. But instead she has begun kindergarten. Her journey of learning has just taken a huge leap. I remember when she was a baby and people would say that time flies, and that she'll be grown before I know it. Well, they weren't lying. There are some days when I just cannot believe it. It feels like yesterday that she was in my womb, sticking her toes in between my ribs. <i>(I can still feel that spot sometimes!) </i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ocean Grove, NJ</td></tr>
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That's why sometimes I just need to take a day off; get off this crazy ride we call life. I took Lilly down the shore. One day. One day was what I absolutely, positively needed, though more would have been nice. We both needed to feel the sand between our toes, the waves washing over us, hearing them crash against the shore. It was seriously one of the best days of my life with Lilly. Lilly is her mother's daughter, in her love of the shore. <i>(Yes, in NJ we go to the shore.) </i>I had to drag her from the ocean to drink non-salty water. She was completely covered in sand when she was out of the water. She was riding waves in. "I'm bodysurfing, momma!" We took our time going there in the morning. We stayed on the beach until we got to hungry for dinner. It was just...the best. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moments before she dashed off to the surf.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I promise she was smiling. It was super bright! </td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-49573473395579456342013-06-30T23:20:00.001-04:002013-06-30T23:20:49.989-04:00Camp begins!Camp begins tomorrow and runs for 7 weeks. I'm excited even though I know how tired in going to be. It's different than my usual job. And sometimes different is good. It allows me to explore different sides of myself. Wish me luck on my adventure!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-53051009024931485892013-06-14T00:05:00.000-04:002013-06-14T00:05:11.514-04:00YogaI have written about yoga before, about how it makes me feel better. I have written about how I sometimes struggle with acceptance of where I am now, in yoga. My flexibility is not what it used to be. I need to modify poses a lot. I cannot stay in them as long as I was once able. yada yada yada, blah blah blah. It's all useless chatter, really, those thoughts. <br />
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Part of the anxiety I have been feeling lately has caused me to breathe very shallowly, which then constricts blood flow to muscles and joints. My acupuncturist was explaining this to me and asked me to spend several minutes daily just breathing deeply. I have been doing that and I can definitely feel the difference in the tenseness of my body...my jaw, my shoulders, etc. <br />
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Recently I started doing a yoga journal dvd introduction to ashtanga. What I love about ashtanga yoga is that it is all about connecting the breath to the movement. It has really helped me get into a pose and stay there longer. It's quieting all that chatter going on in my head, because if I am concentrating on breathing deeply I cannot hear the negative voices. <br />
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Today I didn't feel great, so I did a restorative yoga video. The instructor has some good tidbits that I want to share with you, but I am too tired to remember them exactly. Needless to say, I am feeling better, both physically and emotionally, having made yoga an important part of my day. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-15951594182647126192013-06-03T22:32:00.000-04:002013-06-10T13:32:12.247-04:00My timeHey all! I know I haven't been writing much. I have had another writing project going on, that has kind of taken up my time. It's exciting for me because it is a totally new project, but fits me well. I wish I could be less vague about it, but the company prefers that I write as "the company" and not let myself be known, yet. <br />
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Plus, you know, life. It gets busy around these months for teachers. <br />
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I've been in a fitness/weight loss slump. But I feel the tides changing. You know when you just get sick of feeling sick? That is kind of how I feel right now. I know that cutting dairy and sugar out/down makes me feel better. I know that yoga makes me feel better. I just gotta do it. I really do, because I am so sick of feeling like this. I just have to get over that hump. You know the one I mean. The one that tells you that you cannot, absolutely not live without candy. Or doughnuts. Or mac & cheese. Or ice cream. Or whatever it is that makes you feel oh so good when you take those first bites. But truth? I don't just take one bite. Ever. And another truth? My tummy really hurts when I eat that shit. My body starts to get achey. I get tired and lethargic. Like, too tired to do yoga or go for a walk, the very things that make me feel better. <br />
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<i>Melanie</i>, you are saying, <i>you have told us this before</i>. Yeah, I know I have. Such is the journey of life, my friends. Sometimes we have to make mistakes a few (<i>lots of</i>) times before we get it. I think this is my time....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-83295743536154736202013-05-03T13:53:00.000-04:002013-05-03T13:53:21.398-04:00Why preschool?As you might realize by now, I am an early childhood educator. Meaning? I taught preschool and I now coach teachers who teach preschool and kindergarten. I have my Masters in early childhood special education. I am a HUGE supporter of preschool for all children. I have heard people say to me that preschool is <i>just babysitting</i>, or <i>playing all day. </i>This is for them.<br />
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I received this infographic through a professional group I am involved in and it is used with permission by <a href="http://www.educationnews.org/" target="_blank">EducationNews.org</a><br />
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<b>Please Include Attribution to EducationNews.org With This Graphic</b> <a href="http://www.educationnews.org/parenting/perks-of-preschool/"><img alt="Preschool Infographic" border="0" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/infographics/130308PreschoolFINAL.jpg" width="500" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-9135870480559724262013-04-25T22:38:00.001-04:002013-04-25T22:40:47.493-04:00Celebrate with Crayola on their 110th birthday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td colspan="1" height="15" rowspan="1" style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Did you know that Crayola has been around for 110 years? Neither did I, at least not until recently. Crayola contacted me to ask me to let all my readers know about the excitement they have planned. <br /><br />To celebrate, the original 8 crayons are throwing a birthday bash at the new <a href="http://www2.crayola.com/factory/" target="_blank">Crayola Experience in Easton, PA</a>. Right now they are out on a colorful adventure and they want you to follow along. You can do so by heading to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Crayola" target="_blank">facebook</a> page to see where they are right now!<br /><br />Visit the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Crayola" target="_blank">Crayola</a> facebook page and enter to win a trip for 4 to celebrate their birthday and the Grand Opening of the Crayola Experience in May 2013. You can enter once a day to win a 3 night, all-expenses paid stay and be one of the first to experience the fun of the colorful, interactive exhibits and attractions. <br /><br />I have never been there myself but Lilly has gone with her grandparents who live in Pennsylvania. She raved about it and cannot wait to go back. She was able to be creative, have fun, and it was set up in a way that allowed her to be independent while she played! Even if we do not win the tickets, we will absolutely go to to the Crayola Experience once they re-open. <br /><br />What's your favorite Crayola color?<br /><br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-51727158204683241572013-04-24T09:21:00.000-04:002013-04-24T10:25:11.443-04:00Reading sad thingsI am a reader of blogs. Kind of a lot of them. Sometimes they are very funny; sometimes they are informative. And sometimes they are sad. Recently I have been following the story of Kate and her son Gavin in her blog <a href="http://www.kateleong.com/" target="_blank">Chasing Rainbows</a>. I cannot possibly do her justice, so I will let you read about her yourself. Please do, because her grace is well, amazing. Last week something incredibly sad happened. Gavin died. He was 5 years old. <br />
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I have been asked why I read sad stories like Kate's. I have been asked if they affect me. They do affect me. I am deeply saddened, yet unable to stop reading the stories that are written. I have asked myself why, because other people ask me why. This is my answer. If someone (like Kate) has been brave enough to write her story down and allow me (and others) to read it, then I feel I owe it to her and to her beautiful son to read it. I will cry for her, her husband, her other son, for Gavin. </div>
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It helps me feel connected to women who are just amazing. I am learning how to have grace and courage from these other women who are not afraid to share their stories with the world. So I read them. I try to learn from them. </div>
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Today was Gavin's funeral. I wrote his name on my hand, along with a a little rainbow. I held space for Gavin'd family today. I prayed and held them up, mentally, every time I saw his name. And maybe that is why I really read blogs. So that I can be reminded to not give up hope. And I can, in my own quiet way, hold space for another. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-73376282960622871472013-04-12T22:53:00.000-04:002013-04-13T16:22:24.595-04:00How to take a relaxing bath...or not!Last Friday night I decided that I wanted to take a hot bath. I was feeling a bit stressed and just needed to feel that hot water sooth and relax my muscles. I have always loved baths but somehow it is hard to find the time these days. What transpired after the decision to take a bath was made was either going to make me laugh or cry. I decided on a good laugh (more stress relief) and thought you might like it, too. Enjoy!<br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How to Take A Bath</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Decide to take a bath and walk into the bathroom. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hear 5 year-old crying for Momma.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Calm her down and put her back to sleep. Realize that running the water in the tub will keep her awake.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Go to sleep instead.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wake up to aforementioned child crying again. Bring her into your bed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next evening decide to take a bath, again.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Make sure the cat is in the bathroom so he doesn't meow outside the door and wake the child. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Put a moisturizing fascial mask on to soak in while you are bathing. Smart multitasking!</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Get into bath and allow the hot water to envelope you and relax your muscles.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Close your eyes and lean back. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Feel the furry tail of the cat pull all the way across your face, leaving cat hair in the moisturizing mask.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sigh and take mask off with warm washcloth. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Close eyes and lean back again. Remember that bathtub is barely long enough for 5 year-old, let alone 5'11" grown woman. Attempt to relax anyway.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Get scared out of your mind when the door bursts open. Wish your bathroom door locked.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Try to shoo dog out. Be satisfied that she stops whining so she doesn't wake 5 year-old.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diffuse potentially tricky situation between cat and dog in small bathroom space while still in the tub.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Realize bathroom door is now wide open. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Feel freezing cold air coming in. Give up on relaxing hot bath.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Get out of bath and immediately get rubbed on by cat on the left leg and the dog on the right, leaving long orange and white hairs and short gray hairs on each respective leg. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">sigh....</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5924594961865349420.post-26969988314652134042013-03-23T01:38:00.000-04:002013-03-23T01:40:32.811-04:00Jello MemoriesIn my last blog post I wrote about making new memories. I think one of the things I love most about making new memories with Lilly is how it often brings me back to my own childhood memories. I am pretty darn lucky that my memories are so wonderful. I know how blessed I am to have had such a childhood because I work with children who do not always have good memories. Or their good memories are so far from how I define good that it saddens me. While I know that my childhood was not perfect, I have very few bad memories.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0AuBI2zL5JOj6zmlhdScO_YC-vdcIKKdLvv3gShZPoWGJ_X52MecfVYw87HyaAQ2YIvw9JwFmnY_9WNn3Sckmpp1UxZxYGGffpPlrCtBUSRaMaErg0E26HZFBDpJxMKtXn8MRllRPskM/s1600/IMG_1556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0AuBI2zL5JOj6zmlhdScO_YC-vdcIKKdLvv3gShZPoWGJ_X52MecfVYw87HyaAQ2YIvw9JwFmnY_9WNn3Sckmpp1UxZxYGGffpPlrCtBUSRaMaErg0E26HZFBDpJxMKtXn8MRllRPskM/s320/IMG_1556.jpg" width="239" /></a>Yesterday I was making jello with Lilly. A few years ago I tried making it but she refused to eat it. I ended up eating an entire pan of orange jello. It was more than a little sickening. She has now decided that she likes jello. She picked out grape (hello, purple!) and raspberry lemonade or some such newfangled flavor. She was very excited to make it with me. I obviously stirred it initially since it requires adding boiling water, but then she helped stir the jello powder until it disolved. We talked about how it would not be ready until tomorrow (today) which is why we made it at night. <br />
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Waiting is a hard thing for kids. Scratch that, waiting is hard! Lilly was pretty okay with it. She understands what finished jello looks like so she knew that this was NOT finished. Without telling her what I was doing, I got out a spoon and scooped a bit of the cooled jello mixture just before I put it in the fridge. I told her that this is what Nanny used to do for me and I gave her a taste. It brought me right back to 188 aka Nanny's house, where she would give me a little taste of the not-yet-ready jello from the fridge. Watching Lilly's face light up at the taste of the warm liquidy goodness was fun. Watching her smile as she thought of me as Nanny's little granddaughter was priceless. <br />
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And you know what? Knowing that I look back and see the good memories gives me hope that Lilly, too, will someday look back and see only the good, and forgive me for my mom-mistakes. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112131697842183978noreply@blogger.com0