tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-97039512024-03-24T03:07:09.843+09:00a dad, a mom & a PRINCESSLife is an adventure. Come along with us and enjoy the ride.Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.comBlogger198125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-64151133247900688872011-09-25T20:54:00.002+09:002011-11-21T21:51:24.259+09:00New Mama MobileI have been hinting for YEARS that I would LOVE a bike. The hinting grew from subtle to hit him over the head obvious over the last year. Finally, with the help of Miss M, we convinced Hero that mama needed a bike. Yep, yesterday I got a new bike, and YEP my bum HURTS. Along with my new bike we purchased an inexpensive trailer so that I can take Meghan to school while getting exercise, and haul my goods from the Commissary home without paying for a Taxi.<br />
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I didn't get a picture of the bike, because my thighs hurt too bad after riding the 1.5 miles home from the PX yesterday. However, here is a picture of the trailer that Meghan is dying to ride in.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0South Korea Seoul Yongsan-gu Yongsandong 4(sa)-ga 13-237.529331802815086 126.9799804687537.428642802815084 126.82205196875 37.630020802815089 127.13790896875tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-41664190402612401732011-09-25T20:54:00.000+09:002011-11-21T21:51:32.610+09:00First Day at Mustard Seed PreschoolMiss M is all grown up, or so she likes to think.<br />
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One of the items on my agenda that occupied a vast majority of my time our first week here in South Korea was finding and registering Meghan for preschool. Fortunately, they had one slot left for four-year-olds at the non-denominational Christian preschool here on base.<br />
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Here is Meghan on her first day of school about three weeks ago:<br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Her father's daughter, when I ask for a smile, this is the best I get.</span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">But....I am sure this smile is thinking about all the playing she can get in after school</span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>She fits right in here in South Korea....Hello Kitty.</i></span></div>
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<br />Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0South Korea Seoul Yongsan-gu Yongsandong 5(o)-ga 1537.526064500591431 126.9772338867187537.425375500591429 126.81930538671875 37.626753500591434 127.13516238671875tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-86056499109368410842011-09-25T20:37:00.000+09:002011-09-25T20:37:26.826+09:00"Blue Wife" for a night<br />
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One thing about being here at USAG Yongsan that I am
struggling with is the blended environment with a heavy dose of Army—this is
after all an Army base. Last week I had the chance to feel like an Air Force
wife surrounded by my fellow blue wives for a few hours. It was the first get
together of the year for the Air Force wives on base; they meet September
through May. As a welcome gift to all the new wives here at Yongsan, we were
giving these ceramic ducks, Korean wedding ducks to be specific. They came with
an explanation of the tradition. </div>
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<i><u>Korean Wedding Ducks<o:p></o:p></u></i></div>
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<i>Mandarin ducks mate for life and thus represent marital harmony and
fidelity. In Korea, they are given as a symbol for a long and happy marriage.
They are placed somewhere in the couple’s home and their position, adjusted by
either spouse, tells of the couples marital state. Nose-to-nose means the
relationship is good, tail-to-tail means they probably are having a tiff.
Traditionally, the female’s beak is tied shut which assists in leading to marital
harmony.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Rest assured, this duck’s bill is not tied!</div>
Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0South Korea Seoul Yongsan-gu Yongsandong 6(yuk)-ga 11-43437.526064500591431 126.9799804687537.425308000591428 126.82205196875 37.626821000591434 127.13790896875tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-79746904826963376562011-03-12T01:05:00.000+09:002011-03-12T01:05:35.588+09:00TOO Much of a Good Thing<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So, hero came home on R&R at the end of February. I pined for the day he would come home, I longed to be in his arms again, I craved marital intimacy (and I am not just speaking of Oreo's here). This Sunday it has been two weeks since I drove <s>like a maniac</s> hurriedly to the airport to pick him up. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I love the company of my best friend, I miss him horribly when he is away from the home. YET being with each other almost all day, every day for nearly two weeks might be TOO much of a good thing. For instance, yesterday we had some time to kill while the munchkin was at school. We found ourselves at the mall in search of a watch band for his watch. When we dropped the watch off at a watch repair kiosk I continued on down the mall to one of my favorite book stores, Deseret Books. Hero tagged along nicely for the first thirty seconds and then once he realized I was actually going to *gasp* shop, he started huffing and puffing like our three-year-old daughter (and he wonders where SHE gets that from). In THAT instant I wanted to send him back to work, not back to Afghanistan, just back to his normal 0700 - 1700 job. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I know once he leaves I will be a blubbering idiot for the first few days, and as the final few months drag on I will miss him and want him home with me. Just not all day, every day.....I really do love that guy.</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-46338042416415600582010-06-29T01:09:00.003+09:002010-06-29T01:17:02.940+09:00Moments 7 through 23<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">Well this is LONG overdue, and I am sorry about the lack of photos. However, I am not too sorry to remedy my laziness of not downloading photos off the camera.<br />
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</span></div></span><span xmlns="">7. The tender faith of a toddler that reassured ME, THE MOTHER, that all would be alright after learning that we lost two incredible grandmothers in the same night.</span><br />
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8. The same tender faith that informed me that her "Great NaNa" is, "Living with Jesus Now" during Nana Forsell's funeral.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">9. Although her father has been away on duty for two months now, she still wants to talk to him daily.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">10. Louisiana is no longer Louisiana in this house…it is now "Louie-Nana"</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">11. She has great negotiating skills. "Just ONE more?" (While holding up two or more fingers and giving you the cutest blue eyes you have ever seen)</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">12. We are one-step closer to being a pull-up free house.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">13. Nap time (or just quiet time) and bed time…while I enjoy being her mother, I also enjoy the solitude of when she is asleep. And there is just something just angelic about a sleeping toddler.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">14. Her love for her extended family, it is a love that fills her little body and pours out EVERY pore in her.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">15. One moment of joy came when we were traveling in the car to Wyoming. She had been screaming at me from the outskirts of Casper, all through town to the other side of town. Then SILENCE. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw her asleep at last…only then did I hear the gentle snoring of a slumbering tyke.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">16. Watching her play with her constant companion….our dog Emma.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">17. Dropping her off to play with her friend S so that I can go get a massage.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">18. Registering her for preschool…I am excited for September to arrive….and I am apprehensive because this is just one more step in her growth and development. I long for my tiny baby, I relish my toddler, and dream of my young woman.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">19. Watching her discover "big girl" puzzles…you know, the ones without the pegs and actually make a picture.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">20. Saturday we had an accident free day in big girl panties.</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">21. Receiving motherly advice from my Mama P who has also mothered a "spirited" child just like her…..thanks Mama P for always being there when I need you, and for your gentle, yet stern words of advice. (I LOVE that woman!)</span></div><div><span xmlns=""><br />
</span></div><div><span xmlns="">22. Playgroup at the park….our time may be spent saying things like, "DON'T THROW THE SAND!" "NO, we don't hit/bite our friends." "STAY OUT OF THE WATER!" but it still is such soul refreshing way to refill your mom tank….at the park, with other moms….they are a great bunch!</span></div><div><br />
</div><div><span xmlns=""></span>23. Knowing that as of Thursday night I will not be doing this alone (physically) for a few weeks, really looking forward to my Hero being home for a few weeks! (Or am I just looking forward to getting away just the two of us for a couple of nights?)</div>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-72773765499929741272010-05-14T01:09:00.000+09:002010-05-14T01:09:08.861+09:00Moments 4, 5, & 6<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_EIO4UmtETPMCD7iRSD4VaUASIxvv55LAOQCvnfXFK-orqRGdXmevRtmtnAN1F_q1VGg5hlcE5p9p80rlAoLkfjY1xYNWaz_LDfayQ9Aj6g-kVIgHFp19ZjEdomuBXRo9wLJzg/s1600/Moments+of+Joy+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_EIO4UmtETPMCD7iRSD4VaUASIxvv55LAOQCvnfXFK-orqRGdXmevRtmtnAN1F_q1VGg5hlcE5p9p80rlAoLkfjY1xYNWaz_LDfayQ9Aj6g-kVIgHFp19ZjEdomuBXRo9wLJzg/s320/Moments+of+Joy+001.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"></a><br />
<div>Moment #4: Despite my constant reminders that, "We only put stickers on paper" she has the ability to express her free agency...a free agency that sometimes gets her in hot water.<br />
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Moment #5: When she tells me that she is mad and going to tell her daddy on me, the knowledge that her father and I present a united front...despite the miles that separate us, I am not doing this alone.<br />
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Moment #6: The quiet opening of my bedroom door in the morning, the heavy breathing of a little girl battling a cold and allergies, the jostling of the bed as she climbs up via the cedar chest, the THUMP of her diving onto me, embracing me in a hug and saying, "Mommy I wakey now!"<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" /></a><br />
</div>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-12881535431961497412010-05-13T04:15:00.001+09:002010-05-13T04:15:00.623+09:00After all the stress and fretting…..<span xmlns=''><p>Grades for Spring II term have been posted.<br /></p><p>This term I tried an on-line course, SO208 – Social Inequality, and discovered that they are rather time consuming; they also require you to be very organized and self-motivated. I maintained a solid A through most of the term, and then my husband left. I fell behind for the week he left and struggled to catch up. Then the final came and I realized that (a) I do not test well and (b) I did not save myself any time to study since I procrastinated on my HUGE paper. I took the final on-line and scored a low B. This began the stress and fretting...<br /></p><p>You see, I failed out of college the first time around. Maybe failed is a harsh word, let us just say that at the end of spring term I was on academic probation. I DO NOT see failure as a remote possibility this time around. A master's degree in counseling is my ultimate goal, so I strive very hard to make great grades so I can get into the graduate program of my choice…<br /></p><p>I knew my Public Speaking class was going to be an A. However, after taking my final in SO208, Social Inequality, I began to fret that this might be my first B…<br /></p><p>Grades posted today…and my straight A average has been preserved…if only by the hair on my chiny, chin, chin.</p></span>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-51834488862996418362010-05-13T02:43:00.000+09:002010-05-13T02:43:51.439+09:00An idea that grew out of control....As many of you know, my hero recently left on a 15 month deployment. He starts his journey at Ft. Polk in Louisiana to do combat skills training. Due to Army (he is Air Force, but will be working for the Army for the next year) regulations he will get the opportunity to return home for about a week before shipping out to his final destination in Afghanistan.<br />
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To help mark the days I decided to make Miss M a paper chain that she can remove a link each day. The bulk of the chain is red, white, blue, and yellow. However, on the guesstimated dates of his return home in July and then again for mid-tour R&R I placed a green link. I can move the green links as needed.<br />
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The chain quickly grew to such great lengths that there is NO WHERE in my home to hang the entire length without cutting across doorways and stairways. So I draped the tail end across the bay window in my dining room and put the rest into a laundry basket on top of the nearest kitchen cupboard.<br />
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Each morning we remove a link...each morning we are one day closer to having him home.....<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3lvZcTzNgM0RIvu1r9dAQzdNNLyHn4_s_jK9Ky-_Dj2r8GSJQFjRSnEyP6to75wp0jU8GF2SNRl1BG6nyD_SOeNITSFZ3d6hbGZLtbNC6MuuBT8coR1mV8l5r3UIz6tXpjyuUg/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3lvZcTzNgM0RIvu1r9dAQzdNNLyHn4_s_jK9Ky-_Dj2r8GSJQFjRSnEyP6to75wp0jU8GF2SNRl1BG6nyD_SOeNITSFZ3d6hbGZLtbNC6MuuBT8coR1mV8l5r3UIz6tXpjyuUg/s320/003.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbrcUjN6bj1NcUhtXCzUQIe3jj7zLJpTl_lyvdih9IDMaqF5tvk1vCvtMukLrY-SEcmSpRTcNYgkSTYWK3OvbYxdEFhY3yNK_9T449meJf0z_vEFxvNpqkgYZ_paSgASSloNcAJA/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbrcUjN6bj1NcUhtXCzUQIe3jj7zLJpTl_lyvdih9IDMaqF5tvk1vCvtMukLrY-SEcmSpRTcNYgkSTYWK3OvbYxdEFhY3yNK_9T449meJf0z_vEFxvNpqkgYZ_paSgASSloNcAJA/s320/004.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-46673715346825906172010-05-13T01:34:00.000+09:002010-05-13T01:34:08.309+09:001000 Moments of Joy<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">Motherhood is no easy task, it requires patience, the purest form of love (also called charity), nursing skills, coaching skills, herding skills, compassion, and my list could go on and on. A friend of <a href="http://3inspiringsons.blogspot.com/">mine</a> is following in the footsteps of her <a href="http://www.1000momentsofjoy.blogspot.com/">BFF</a> in looking for the "moments of joy" in motherhood. In the next year, until Mother's Day comes around again, they are going to look for 1000 moments of joy. I really like the idea of looking for the joy in motherhood over dwelling on the moments of frustration…so I too will be jumping on the bandwagon.<br />
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With my husband gone for the next 14 months, I need to look for the positive in all things…….<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwgBWUxhicND2YRhybrlKTbAe5uAK33MbKi8Vuv4CrAX-N_rY-7pNZYTdnL33KlKrmUYuMg34Be7XjAXXXPU7BkhUnfT_SB9ikdvZfL4Rq7tN-UA1C1E9n-ty8IV2bYUFVDhewiw/s1600/ed0501092320editedforblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwgBWUxhicND2YRhybrlKTbAe5uAK33MbKi8Vuv4CrAX-N_rY-7pNZYTdnL33KlKrmUYuMg34Be7XjAXXXPU7BkhUnfT_SB9ikdvZfL4Rq7tN-UA1C1E9n-ty8IV2bYUFVDhewiw/s320/ed0501092320editedforblog.jpg" /></a></div><ol><li><div><div style="text-align: center;">My daughter is every bit her father's daughter; she DOES NOT like to smile for the camera. When she does smile for the camera, you can see the pure joy that radiates from deep within her soul.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizKdNCPY4AxjpWXTgJ5TEYqKZK3jq6x-C12euGXuHJi-dzmrHU6LI-0wLVRrKlu6rhQNWxencxH1dp55IAUZLf3CevbU0_s-8wpIxBP13ejVphGkWKbkAEm3UDnrwbNY3m1jHACA/s1600/001editedforblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizKdNCPY4AxjpWXTgJ5TEYqKZK3jq6x-C12euGXuHJi-dzmrHU6LI-0wLVRrKlu6rhQNWxencxH1dp55IAUZLf3CevbU0_s-8wpIxBP13ejVphGkWKbkAEm3UDnrwbNY3m1jHACA/s320/001editedforblog.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> 2. Every bit the princess…even when running a fever and not feeling well.</div></li>
</ol><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8uxp1yqxPpujVDK9bMaH27mkKgbZ3AfkZimFNDOW_todpPDpj1hvMNs61-IerKMetLIiDecOaEdPHTNNyszKx__ucKyWB6B4E1V2J38mfBTqGaqj7W4Tb6MYRe-Y2oSmiAOs7Q/s1600/002editedforblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8uxp1yqxPpujVDK9bMaH27mkKgbZ3AfkZimFNDOW_todpPDpj1hvMNs61-IerKMetLIiDecOaEdPHTNNyszKx__ucKyWB6B4E1V2J38mfBTqGaqj7W4Tb6MYRe-Y2oSmiAOs7Q/s320/002editedforblog.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> 3. Even when she does not feel well, she is a little hurricane….I do not mind the mess made by a happy child.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>So, what are your 1000 moments of joy? Should you take this project on, please let me know because I sure would love to read all about your joy…and be sure to let <a href="http://3inspiringsons.blogspot.com/">Amy</a> and <a href="http://www.1000momentsofjoy.blogspot.com/">Kim</a> share in your joy as well.<br />
</span>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-9171302842894931852009-09-09T00:03:00.003+09:002009-09-09T00:04:24.879+09:00As I mentioned....As I mentioned in an earlier post, I though it would be nice to post the essays I have done thus far in my English 105 class. Enjoy.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-31896562272203251962009-09-09T00:00:00.001+09:002009-09-09T00:03:12.688+09:00Birth of a Princess<div style="text-align: center;">Birth of a Princess<br /></div> Meghan Adelaide Wheeler is a princess in the eyes of her parents. There was a time in our lives that we said, “Never!” The day we married we did not want children. One day my biological clock starting ticking and it was ticking loudly. My poor husband, Phillip, began to wonder what happened to his perfect bride; the bride who agreed that not having children was the life for us. Over time, he began to soften and decided that maybe a child would be tolerable. <br /><br />Before long, we found ourselves in the infertility rat race. There were blood tests, biopsies, and more blood tests. Eventually, we tried the fertility drug Clomid. Ultrasounds showed the first round of fertility drugs would not be successful. We decided to take a camping trip, relax, and prepare for the next month of fertility medications. Three weeks later we learned that we were indeed successful and would be preparing for a baby arriving in the spring.<br /> <br />Phillip deployed to Iraq shortly after we discovered I was pregnant. He left a wife who was pregnant, but not yet showing. When he returned almost six months later, his wife was nearly seven months pregnant and looked every bit the part. The next couple of months were spent preparing a nursery, shopping for baby gear, and taking classes. By the time April, the month I was due, rolled around, I was ready to take my body back from my little parasite. <br /> <br />One Friday night, we went on what we felt would be our last date for the foreseeable future. I let Phillip pick the movie, not because I was being nice, but because I knew I would spend the evening going back and forth to the bathroom. It was not a surprise when he chose an action packed movie. With every loud explosion, I felt our baby girl startle. I was getting beat up from the inside.<br /> <br />The next day, I had appointments for a pedicure and haircut. By this time, my belly was so swollen I could not fit comfortably behind the wheel of the car. I asked my husband to drive me the thirty minutes into town. As we were getting ready to leave the house, I had this nagging feeling that I should finish packing my hospital bag and put it in the car. Pushing that feeling aside, we left the house without the bag. Phillip dropped me off for my appointments and left to spend the next two hours exploring Sportsman’s Warehouse and a local fly fishing store.<br /> <br />In the middle of my heavenly pedicure, I felt a trickle of wetness and thought, “Great I have peed myself.” I was embarrassed and hoped that when I stood up it would not be noticeable. Following my pedicure, I waddled to another station for my haircut. My stylist, Liza, gave me a relaxing scalp massage and then washed my hair. When I stood up after having my hair washed, I felt this gush of fluid rush down my legs. Turning to Liza I said, “Uh, Liza, I think my water just broke!”<br /><br />Instantly the spa became a flurry of panic; employees were in frenzy over what to do. Ironically, it was the pregnant woman who calmed their nervousness. It took some quick talking, but I finally convinced them that an ambulance was not necessary. Assuring Liza and her co-workers, I promised, “She won’t come barreling down the chute,” and that Phillip would be there by 1:00 p.m. to take me home. I persuaded Liza to finish my haircut. Just as I promised, Phillip arrived shortly before 1:00 p.m. The look of disbelief on his face as I told him that my water broke was unforgettable. <br /><br />We left the spa; however, we did not rush to the hospital. I knew from the birthing class we attended, that once I arrived at the hospital the likelihood of them letting me eat was slim. With that in mind, we went to Carl’s Jr. for lunch. My water broke at noon, and we arrived at the hospital at 2:00 p.m.<br /> <br />My doctor, Dr. Temple, happened to be the doctor on call when we arrived at Bassett Community Army Hospital on Fort Wainwright in Fairbanks, Alaska. I was relieved to see her. Dr. Temple had been with us through a rough miscarriage and was the doctor that helped us conceive our daughter. It was only fitting that she be the doctor to deliver Meghan. The doctor performed a test to confirm that my water had broken. I was then admitted to the hospital. My nurse quickly went to work setting up my IV and getting me settled into my room. I sent Phillip home to go running, have some dinner, feed the cat, and finish packing the hospital bag. Phillip does not have the patience to sit and wait. <br /> <br />Since walking the halls did not bring about labor, the nurse administered Pitocin at 7:00 p.m. Pitocin is the synthetic version of oxytocin; the hormone a woman’s body produces to start labor. Not long after the Pitocin was started, labor began. Shortly thereafter, I requested an epidural. Thanks to the epidural I was able to sleep, as well as one can in a hospital, the rest of the night. The nursing staff did a great job of waking me up every hour to take my vitals. Meghan did a wonderful job of keeping the nurses on their toes with her dramatically fluctuating heart rate. Her heart rate would plummet and they would rush in to have me roll over. She would settle back down for a short time, only to have the nurses come rushing back in to have me roll the other direction. While all this was happening, my darling husband snored on the chair next to my bed. <br /> <br />By 8:30 a.m., I was ready to deliver my daughter. Just sixty short minutes later, the most beautiful little girl I have ever laid my eyes on was born. With her birth, the mystery behind her fluctuating heart rate was solved. Meghan was born with a tight true knot in her cord. Both Dr. Temple and the nurse commented that since her true knot was tight, we were fortunate. The outcome could have been tragic. <br /><br />Meghan is our miracle baby. She is the miracle we never thought we would want, but soon figured out that we did. She is the miracle that was not supposed to be after the first round of fertility drugs. She is the miracle born with the true knot in her umbilical cord that could have proven deadly. Our little miracle has introduced us to the world of pink and princesses. Our little miracle is a princess.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-86972667898703064692009-09-08T23:58:00.001+09:002009-09-09T00:00:37.667+09:00Out of Necessity Great Inventions are Born<div style="text-align: center;">Out of Necessity Great Inventions are Born<br /></div><br /> My name is Stan G. Sack, I am an inventor. The words of my favorite American philosopher and poet, Ralph Waldo Emerson, capture the essence of who I am. He once said, “The ancestor of every action is a thought.” As an inventor I spend the majority of my time deep in thought. The cogs in my brain are constantly turning and thinking up new ideas. Only after I come up with a good idea can my hands leap into action. I drive my wife, Sarah, to the edge of insanity with my constant tinkering in the garage. In my life I have had many good ideas. However, I am known only for one small creation.<br /> <br />One wintery afternoon I was deep in thought, contemplating the many mysteries of the universe. My wife came grumbling through the door, irritated because once again on her trip home from the market she had dropped groceries along the path. Being the problem solver, I suggested that she might want to consider making a couple of trips into the village market so that her arms would not become overloaded. I knew that she did not like that suggestion when she huffed, turned on her heels, and grumbled about insensitive males all the way to the kitchen. <br /><br />I am a thinker; that is what I do. Her reaction to what I thought was a logical solution started me thinking again. Surely there was something I could make to help her carry the groceries from the market to the house without leaving a trail of produce behind her. <br /> <br />I started by emptying her knitting basket of its needles and yarn. My dear wife was none to happy with me when the kitten began playing with a ball of yarn; undoing most of the blanket she was knitting for the baby down the street. I thought it was a good idea at the time. Then I emptied the metal pail we had in the garage. She did not like the idea of her fresh produce touching the dirty, rusty pail. I convinced her to give it a try. This time her bananas and grapes made it home, however, they were a soggy, bruised mess when she arrived home. Next I emptied the wooden crate our Christmas pears arrived in. The pears had been delicious, but now the crate was being used to collect the odds and ends of inventions that had gone horribly wrong. Sarah thought I had solved her grocery woes, until she tried to use the crate. When full, the crate is heavy and cumbersome. Back to the drawing board it was for me.<br /> <br />I spent many a restless night trying to come up with a solution for my dear wife’s dilemma. Months later I shot up in bed, I had a dream. In this dream I had seen millions of brown paper sacks used in markets all over the world. I would be famous! I would be rich! The next morning I marched into the village mercantile. My step was light; I was excited to get started. After speaking to Henry, the mercantile owner, he agreed to sell me a roll of the brown paper he used to wrap parcels for his customers. He also agreed to order several more rolls for me. I could barely control my excitement during the walk home. Getting started as soon as possible was the only thing on my mind.<br /> <br />Once home I sequestered myself in our garage. Like a dog with a bone, I was a man on a mission. My sweet Sarah brought my meals to me, staying long enough to clear the previous meal’s dishes and kiss me on my check. She had never seen me in such an absorbed state, she knew in her heart that I was creating something big. She knew this would be the invention to make up for all my past failures.<br /> <br />After what felt like an eternity, but was really only 72 hours, I emerged from the garage. I held up my invention for Sarah to inspect. She was delighted! We named it grocery sack. That very afternoon my wife went into the village to do her shopping. Under her arm she carried my beloved invention. I was on pins and needles while she was gone, nervous that this would be another failure. The smile on Sarah’s elated face as she came through the door told me that I had not been a failure; instead I had been a success. Now you know the story behind my greatest invention; the grocery sack, a simple device born out of a great thought.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-45755191103962900642009-09-08T23:54:00.002+09:002009-09-08T23:58:20.649+09:00Standing Upright<div style="text-align: center;">Standing Upright<br /></div>Someone once said, “’Tis impossible for an empty sack to stand upright.” As a sack, I take offense to that statement. My life began in a factory. I am cut from a large roll of paper. With great care, my creator glued me together. Taking extra care to be sure my seams and creases were perfect. We come in all sizes; I knew I was destined for greatness when my maker cut me to be small. <br /><br />After creation, and after being bundled with one hundred of my closest friends and family, we are stacked in a box with other similar bundles. It gets dark when that box is sealed, but we know the darkness will not last forever. We hope the darkness does not last forever.<br /> The bundles bump against each other in the box; I can sense that we are on the move. With a soft thud, we feel as if we have fallen a small distance. This must be what it feels like when we are stacked on top of other boxes filled with my compatriots. The box sits still for what feels like an eternity. Will we be in darkness forever? I begin to fear we will stay in darkness for an eternity. Then one day we feel the jolt of our box on the move again. Hope spreads amongst us that we will see light again soon.<br /> <br />Once again, we feel the soft thud of being stacked with other boxes. Murmuring begins to spread amongst my kin; they fear they will never see the light of day. I am hopeful that we will; I am hopeful that we will serve to be useful one day. This time is different. There is a soft swaying motion. Our journey has to be nearing an end, right?<br /> Countless times, we go through the excitement of feeling movement. Every time we bolster our hopes up. We will see the light again. It is a roller coaster of emotions. At last, one day we feel the sensation of movement again. This time I do not get excited; I have come to accept that I will never see light again. I hear the sound of the tape on our box being punctured and then cut open. Could it be? Yes! I see the light. I can hear my friends and family shouting for joy, crying tears of relief. Finally, the day we have prayed for has arrived! Light floods the box we have lived in for what seems like an eternity. It is so bright it hurts my eyes. That does not matter, I am happy to feel the light on my face. Slowly a pimply faced kid takes us out of the box and stacks us on a shelf. <br /> <br />Soon an exhausted looking mother with two screaming kids in tow throws us into her shopping cart. I begin to fret about what the great creator has in store for us. Our next journey is a short one. The mother throws more groceries in her cart. We are plunked on a conveyor belt, dragged across a beeping machine, and thrown into a larger bag. This larger bag is just like us, only made of thicker paper and a great deal bigger than we are. Suddenly there is an intense light shining in my eyes. The big bag teases me because I do not know what sunshine is. I like this sunshine; it feels good and warms me up. It is a short ride to my new home. I remember the soft lull caused by a road trip and find myself nodding off to sleep. <br /><br />Once at our destination, the woman unloads the larger bags from her car. Again, my bundle of kin and I find ourselves in darkness. Before it got dark, we heard the woman tell her son, “Put those lunch sacks in the pantry.” What is a lunch sack? Several days of darkness pass. Nevertheless, it is better than the darkness of being in the box. The darkness of the box was continuous. In the pantry, there are numerous times in the day when the door opens and we get a quick ray of light. This goes on for many days.<br /> <br />Then one morning the pantry door opens and the woman reaches in for us. Cheers of excitement break out amongst us. Finally, we are going to be used. We get to work in the manner we were created. After recovering from the jolt of being thrown onto the counter our bundle is torn open. She removes two sacks from the bundle; I am one. A plethora of emotions runs through me. I am excited to work, but I am sad to be separated from my kin. The woman opens us up, sets us on the counter. We are standing upright. Therefore, you see, I am a lunch sack, I am currently empty, and I am standing upright.<br /> <br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-62680326935046651822009-09-07T14:37:00.002+09:002009-09-07T14:55:22.363+09:00I didn't drop off the face of the earth...It may seem as I have dropped off the face of the earth, but I assure you I am still alive and kicking butt in Salt Lake City! Life here at the Wheeler house has been super crazy the last several weeks.<br /><br />Let's see....<br /><br />The first part of August I went to Oregon to visit my Portland area family. Had a wonderful visit and it was great to see everyone. Even my hill billy uncle Mikey came out of the woods to see me. Growing up he was the fun uncle that would play horsey or play dough with me. Sadly my family experienced three deaths in the week I was there. My loved ones will be missed, but they are in a much better place. On the way home I got pulled over by the Utah Highway Patrol just 30 miles from home. Yes, I was speeding, yes I deserved it...but it was justifiable. At least in my mind it was justifiable. Meghan puked in Jerome, Idaho and had been complaining of an, "owie belly" all evening. I was just trying to get to the next rest stop before she puked. Honestly. I think the stench of puke, a screaming two year old, and a haggard looking mom convinced the officer to show me a tad bit of mercy. Not as good as my mother and her best friend's story. They had two screaming babies with stinky bottoms, and two whining kids complaining about being hungry.....<br /><br />We arrived home on a Wednesday, left on Thursday for the cabin. Had a nice relaxing weekend in the mountains. I am going to miss being able to go there when the Air Force moves us again. <br /><br />The following Monday I started school. I am taking English 105 and Sociology 141, they are kicking my booty! When I have a few moments I will share some of the essays I have written for English.<br /><br />Wednesday of that week my dear friend Marsha from Alaska arrived. She arrived here to speak with a specialist about a medical issue she has been having for over a year. The following Tuesday one of the specialists she was seeing had her do a camera endoscopy. This resulted in her being doubled over in pain that evening and me rushing her to Salt Lake Regional's ER. I stayed with her until they admitted her at 3 a.m. on Wednesday morning. She has been there ever since. Wednesday they performed an emergency surgery. Her husband arrived from Alaska on Thursday. The following Tuesday the doctor performed another surgery to alleviate one of her issues she has been enduring for a year. That night they had to do another emergency surgery because she was bleeding out. She almost died. After a few days in the ICU they transferred her back up to the surgical floor. I believe they did that this last Thursday, or maybe it was Friday. Her sister flew in Saturday. Then tonight they rushed her back into emergency surgery to clean up a bunch of blood that was pooling in her abdomen. The doctor took a good look at everything and she is no longer actively bleeding. She has now been in the hospital for almost two weeks. I pray that tonight was the last surgery for her. I have tried to be of as much help as I can be to her and her husband. I can see the weariness on her dear husband. She is weary. I am weary.<br /><br />So as you can see, I am still here...just busy with school and a friend who is gravely ill.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-89753505293501196122009-07-31T00:56:00.003+09:002009-07-31T00:58:29.696+09:00Hump Day Hi/LoI so glad to be on the downhill side of another week!<br /><br />Hi: Looking forward to getting away this weekend and then leaving to go to Oregon this next week.<br /><br />Lo: All the preparation it takes to get this small family out the door always leaves me frazzled. Hopefully I can do it this time without barking like a drill sergeant.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-15998073781611676992009-07-28T12:51:00.005+09:002009-07-28T13:12:50.042+09:00Fourth of July WeekendWe are not fireworks kind of people; you seen one show, you've seen them all. Our little family would rather spend time in the woods, being one with nature...with the comforts of a cabin of course. We went up on Thursday and stayed until Sunday.<br /><br />Phillip's dad joined us Friday afternoon. We enjoyed his company. Unfortunately his mom wasn't able to join us because she was out of town. When "Grampa" arrived he asked Meghan if she wanted to play in the sprinkler. She showed interest at first, but quickly lost it. I wasn't thinking when I packed her clothes, so I wasn't prepared for her to play in the water. I did tell her that she could but would have to do soin just her diaper.<br /><br />Saturday morning the guys went fishing. Meghan and I had breakfast without them, I saved them some and proceeded to clean up. After I cleaned up I went out to read on the deck and watch Meghan play. She wanted to play in the dog's water dish, but that is a no-no in this family. So I went inside and found her a pitcher and wash basin to play in instead. Meghan spent a long time playing in the water. <br /><br />Eventually our fishermen returned home. After they ate their breakfast, "Grampa" asked Meghan if she wanted to play in the sprinkler. She was so excited, I stripped her down to her diaper. But when it came down to it, she didn't want to play in the sprinkler. I had gone back inside to clean up the guys' breakfast dishes. When I came back outside...this is what I found.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwKzcoQLPPzcNS8dfYCrAdvgk4VUVsYnwG4iO1TCBRtKBjxR_DsI4LF0zpVB2ejnJAsBLv0kNbW6nxSebivrgjhWTHwQ5tgwkNbIqarIaodgJxeZiPtkTJtqlV2Fuk0MjftBGXbw/s1600-h/07+04+09_0022.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwKzcoQLPPzcNS8dfYCrAdvgk4VUVsYnwG4iO1TCBRtKBjxR_DsI4LF0zpVB2ejnJAsBLv0kNbW6nxSebivrgjhWTHwQ5tgwkNbIqarIaodgJxeZiPtkTJtqlV2Fuk0MjftBGXbw/s400/07+04+09_0022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363353986070414658" border="0" /></a>Why play in the sprinkler when you have a perfectly functioning wash basin?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkApzO1X6RmdGJ6qZUMMsRjWFftPGIf6bFcg4Ng8v42UBgTldBYOQ0SlV8Piw9kAFdQC2MzxLTUBxOjGPAOqpgOJ7eAPkzNg4htsDJlz6pcVyqV_KqqbKsa2-6_W5kydqPrXIDeQ/s1600-h/07+04+09_0021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkApzO1X6RmdGJ6qZUMMsRjWFftPGIf6bFcg4Ng8v42UBgTldBYOQ0SlV8Piw9kAFdQC2MzxLTUBxOjGPAOqpgOJ7eAPkzNg4htsDJlz6pcVyqV_KqqbKsa2-6_W5kydqPrXIDeQ/s400/07+04+09_0021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363353978792298434" border="0" /></a>The cabin has indoor plumbing, to include a shower....but bathing a toddler who doesn't like water in her face in the shower did not seem like fun to me. The next best thing? The kitchen sink of course....Gramma April probably cringes at the thought....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5bxJy-RpfdgC_mca9TcGDUjD0gY6ICIzx2CnZ4telRU5FK_uxCAM_Jrpo_FzgtA4NpeIc_M6IklcM9rurII3Sf_CMMoX7vMH1OHulpZ3Bf55Y-Emx8U_jc36x2t7-Je_Ydx8ig/s1600-h/07+05+09_0020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5bxJy-RpfdgC_mca9TcGDUjD0gY6ICIzx2CnZ4telRU5FK_uxCAM_Jrpo_FzgtA4NpeIc_M6IklcM9rurII3Sf_CMMoX7vMH1OHulpZ3Bf55Y-Emx8U_jc36x2t7-Je_Ydx8ig/s400/07+05+09_0020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363354492602861490" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-87969062623622971782009-07-28T01:58:00.001+09:002009-07-28T02:00:45.166+09:00Hump Day Hi/LoLast week's hi/lo's:<br /><br />Low: Can't remember there being one....<br />High: Getting away for the weekend, and being able to spend it with family.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-16273978160098356452009-07-28T01:54:00.003+09:002009-07-28T01:58:35.208+09:00Grateful Friday...on a MondayI am grateful;<br /><ol><li>For a fun weekend spent amongst the Wheeler clan</li><li>A safe trip to and home from the cabin this weekend. Seems I always take it for granted that we have arrived safely at our destination.</li><li>Meghan played well despite the lack of naps on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday...but I am paying for it today.</li><li>That our dog Emma is so lovable. She lets Meghan ride her like a horsey, pull on her ears, use her as a step stool to get on the sofa...what a great family member we have in her!</li><li>Families...<br /></li></ol><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-82908848980002008852009-07-21T10:39:00.007+09:002009-07-21T13:57:02.337+09:00mmmm....S'more S'mores please<br />A couple of weekends ago we had the opportunity to go see a friend of ours retire from the Air Force. It was wonderful getting caught up with them, and a few other friends we were stationed with in England.<br /><br />My parents are so awesome, they let us crash at their pad. We love visiting them so much! And they even let us bring Emma the energizer dog...all the better. Friday we did the retirement ceremony and party. Saturday Phillip played golf at the Air Force Academy while my parents took Meghan and I shopping. It was a long day for Meghan.<br /><br />Nana had promised Meghan that they would do S'mores. It got later and later in the evening, it was hard to put Meghan to bed because she was having so much fun with her Nana, Papa, and her Aunts Becky & Cassie. I undid her hairdo and was about to put her in the bath when she and Nana reminded me about the S'mores. Bath plans on hold for a few minutes, we did quick S'mores in the microwave since there wasn't enough time for Papa to start a fire. (I think my dad is a closet pyro.)<br /><br />Phillip and dad enjoyed just the chocolate. Nana, Meghan, Aunt Cassie and I enjoyed complete S'mores....and my sister Becky who has an aversion to fluffy, delicious, finger lickin' good marshmallows had melted chocolate on graham cracker. I KNOW she is weird, but we love her despite that.<br /><br />Below are Meghan with her wild woman hairdo thoroughly enjoying that S'more.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghIJtOhZ3SGeMVxTLoro115oPIghmZ52aOlfewsR9OCU1btvDLeav3zHnggRe1BaOz604Vq4MISxfrn8RkTUcJ7e-1QJjMbR4TkBO8Jm3_t6YtxSVUPPY0oSlMsPsrDfNmTYd22w/s1600-h/07+11+09_0009edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghIJtOhZ3SGeMVxTLoro115oPIghmZ52aOlfewsR9OCU1btvDLeav3zHnggRe1BaOz604Vq4MISxfrn8RkTUcJ7e-1QJjMbR4TkBO8Jm3_t6YtxSVUPPY0oSlMsPsrDfNmTYd22w/s400/07+11+09_0009edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360756822815689122" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2F7tunICFoE8H_iLgBUYPFDzKTYta2waal38WyUWeZUjBeXqfygXFXuSkUzVhdQy8L9rJQVfs1hdJIBtTi_hcCNiK49W_Ywhpe-BIXPbI8r4id1xWzhrr5jg1_Nxf0L3fzf7IQ/s1600-h/07+11+09_0013edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2F7tunICFoE8H_iLgBUYPFDzKTYta2waal38WyUWeZUjBeXqfygXFXuSkUzVhdQy8L9rJQVfs1hdJIBtTi_hcCNiK49W_Ywhpe-BIXPbI8r4id1xWzhrr5jg1_Nxf0L3fzf7IQ/s400/07+11+09_0013edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360753839594381234" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQq-3JKxmBY4eaHJQevkKawMgCDhqhuGEqmhdt3vNwHv3FyxsEZqbUt5Dc1Yuqgbpw5C2-nj7gqheWktwWd_PUJKYn0bpE4M1GANe8L4Uw7PLomEuIjaCahZ8FgbMWMGSFLGu1Dg/s1600-h/07+11+09_0012edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQq-3JKxmBY4eaHJQevkKawMgCDhqhuGEqmhdt3vNwHv3FyxsEZqbUt5Dc1Yuqgbpw5C2-nj7gqheWktwWd_PUJKYn0bpE4M1GANe8L4Uw7PLomEuIjaCahZ8FgbMWMGSFLGu1Dg/s400/07+11+09_0012edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360753830683882242" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZEdv9H7mYE-nuK4M9_g_-Nr0q56UBE_GO0m7oUgB2ymgUknZEqQhSWa9h3w1s8Q23nb9oVi0umjw16qeQvxAHC4B38lTZtN49BCn9PeQZsyq8gWTFGdrSR6iJb1_14TTDKmumA/s1600-h/07+11+09_0009edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZEdv9H7mYE-nuK4M9_g_-Nr0q56UBE_GO0m7oUgB2ymgUknZEqQhSWa9h3w1s8Q23nb9oVi0umjw16qeQvxAHC4B38lTZtN49BCn9PeQZsyq8gWTFGdrSR6iJb1_14TTDKmumA/s400/07+11+09_0009edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360753826500547970" border="0"></a><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0"></a><br />Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-13845986303400910572009-07-19T09:37:00.004+09:002009-07-19T10:39:32.839+09:00Dancing QueenMeghan has been taking a Mom & Tot class since this last spring. They do dance for about twenty-five minutes, and then tumbling for about 20 minutes. She LOVES dressing up in her leotard and going to dance class. I FINALLY remembered my camera this last week....<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTAD4xREcjFhDPBlW1P02XGgfuBuTYwd3aDIONo2olYWlLGtvUPCtHIs1IfbKeXd23rGe_6c9AIB-jJ6LHcpGpChUUZRLzF8hMFQSX9fn8TCnVHwDNOPFf9IndK8LiJTClIwqGw/s1600-h/07+14+09_0005edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTAD4xREcjFhDPBlW1P02XGgfuBuTYwd3aDIONo2olYWlLGtvUPCtHIs1IfbKeXd23rGe_6c9AIB-jJ6LHcpGpChUUZRLzF8hMFQSX9fn8TCnVHwDNOPFf9IndK8LiJTClIwqGw/s400/07+14+09_0005edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966619853272706" border="0" /></a>Summer classes started this last week. New teacher, new format...not quite sure what to do with the star teacher gave her.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vm3H_dRX0Zr6rXkApHfR7lVZqpVl8WJgZsH6wAIjAfFNCBTli8bt1jsKKpyg3Cd4SPovhB91FbQICFKJCrhH0sUA_3ob73bY-vvT7uJy5URZH7VIdd7ka7T-3Tpus2n0jB1BOQ/s1600-h/07+14+09_0004edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 330px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vm3H_dRX0Zr6rXkApHfR7lVZqpVl8WJgZsH6wAIjAfFNCBTli8bt1jsKKpyg3Cd4SPovhB91FbQICFKJCrhH0sUA_3ob73bY-vvT7uJy5URZH7VIdd7ka7T-3Tpus2n0jB1BOQ/s400/07+14+09_0004edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966613896141346" border="0" /></a>I am sure she was thinking it would make a good flying disk......<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzi-zUtTwDq8jn_EVotEhMAHqR-LfdzDtwwzkmcvqNMnkad-19-rdkLXzujIV2-iwz1DDoyblVuo3K6WB0XdKaX4WuXWElnlEZH8_6QOBf8YlXI-BXZRpe5ztKyfXkJV3VnSAHBQ/s1600-h/07+14+09_0007edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 397px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzi-zUtTwDq8jn_EVotEhMAHqR-LfdzDtwwzkmcvqNMnkad-19-rdkLXzujIV2-iwz1DDoyblVuo3K6WB0XdKaX4WuXWElnlEZH8_6QOBf8YlXI-BXZRpe5ztKyfXkJV3VnSAHBQ/s400/07+14+09_0007edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966626546427810" border="0" /></a>Dancing with her bear.....<br /></div><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwBYaq-d93HSa4PIkRLbeQcC0MPzyUQsdXxbv259_m3gsC34xVh4e_Vl0M7H4Ie75GnwSVqVkwRVmU' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-30079258819163865172009-07-19T05:41:00.009+09:002009-07-19T09:33:40.703+09:00Wall LakeSaturday, June 27, 2009, Phillip decided he wanted to take his family on a hike. So we packed and left for the Uintah's. After an hour hike in we ended at Wall Lake, the view was well worth the hike in. Isn't that the way it always ends up?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigguQOyG3YxYItf25j7Ak12B096lb6Zzy5JhKql4C9VVaWUj9iDWRQEs3KWJhnapjbM8XppFOHVLzjDtUrbtECJKGfzgk8IDj6pDZ2LxI8rPMP1uxPaea-R2LofY6DbzHQ5PEL0w/s1600-h/06+27+09_0024edited_blogit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 379px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigguQOyG3YxYItf25j7Ak12B096lb6Zzy5JhKql4C9VVaWUj9iDWRQEs3KWJhnapjbM8XppFOHVLzjDtUrbtECJKGfzgk8IDj6pDZ2LxI8rPMP1uxPaea-R2LofY6DbzHQ5PEL0w/s400/06+27+09_0024edited_blogit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359905676605373906" border="0" /></a>After the hike in Meghan and I needed a snack. What a better snack for cheesy pictures than cheese?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNcnja9TW3YrybWMweABz2RmrT9f5C7qImwd-NJMiz0JpoM_-tccWafCHczEZ07gUZkCBQ2gEMkCKIMauxfOvMqdIeL3QXZ-XnG6JLye2PkT9epA2MeUHJjT00kwICpkgVcxOyg/s1600-h/06+27+09_0029EDITED_BLOGIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNcnja9TW3YrybWMweABz2RmrT9f5C7qImwd-NJMiz0JpoM_-tccWafCHczEZ07gUZkCBQ2gEMkCKIMauxfOvMqdIeL3QXZ-XnG6JLye2PkT9epA2MeUHJjT00kwICpkgVcxOyg/s400/06+27+09_0029EDITED_BLOGIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359956116471582242" border="0" /></a>Meghan playing with Daddy's sunglasses. She likes to play with ours, but do you think we could get her to wear her's? No way Jose!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH59aPnQTBoxZa1HM_W-6Fgna2gJvlaAT6RjBbEm8XSzL2Xeb8FtWUZNErlzVPe4ryI91D1XK5wfXQMm7_ID3swf2uNFy2aQaIGx7GnwuN1BF2pmL89HyOkGbLXe3CPBCoMa7cag/s1600-h/06+27+09_0031edited_blogit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH59aPnQTBoxZa1HM_W-6Fgna2gJvlaAT6RjBbEm8XSzL2Xeb8FtWUZNErlzVPe4ryI91D1XK5wfXQMm7_ID3swf2uNFy2aQaIGx7GnwuN1BF2pmL89HyOkGbLXe3CPBCoMa7cag/s400/06+27+09_0031edited_blogit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359956745518154114" border="0" /></a>While Phillip fished, Meghan and I just enjoyed the scenery. She found plenty of rocks to play with, numerous bugs and birds to point out, and when she got bored with that she began to play with her pack.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI5jUcEQwAeu7mS80wq5cvG2Eywzv4lADmWq9ULN-RlU-yO0NMH_FimF1PIEDWaPni_ttbj9kflwevZLk43xG4K1KqmDr6Io8McGEijYP7HzRp8mEBiDyJL40-IhtYrEyPgbd0g/s1600-h/06+27+09_0039_edited_blogit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI5jUcEQwAeu7mS80wq5cvG2Eywzv4lADmWq9ULN-RlU-yO0NMH_FimF1PIEDWaPni_ttbj9kflwevZLk43xG4K1KqmDr6Io8McGEijYP7HzRp8mEBiDyJL40-IhtYrEyPgbd0g/s400/06+27+09_0039_edited_blogit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359959064948408386" border="0" /></a>And when the pack lost it's appeal...she went back to exploring the dirt and rocks....after about two hours mommy and Meghan were ready to GO.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGj8iXGpqumfUNzFAp3_Y3IXzMdQPr-PsU-dgl2492qMMGi-OQwOD2sh8fKFAaHNs0U9kuAcIpWC7w6UOtITzsBgEr6dTHagrejn0AEd2sG58Gi0NmYbDoneAvAdQzaIZK3OBHgw/s1600-h/06+27+09_0037edited_blogit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGj8iXGpqumfUNzFAp3_Y3IXzMdQPr-PsU-dgl2492qMMGi-OQwOD2sh8fKFAaHNs0U9kuAcIpWC7w6UOtITzsBgEr6dTHagrejn0AEd2sG58Gi0NmYbDoneAvAdQzaIZK3OBHgw/s400/06+27+09_0037edited_blogit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359961810460308018" border="0" /></a>After finding Phillip who had wandered along the shore fishing, we took a family picture and hiked an hour back to the car.<br /><br />All in all it was a wonderful family outing.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-79423630831307687942009-07-18T04:58:00.003+09:002009-07-18T05:07:50.923+09:00Hurrican Meghan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vvITVY87xXXteJp65A6J2kKHSlK7ZbMbUDiFgnZp7EoZbGVrzUmG2-nHhGC0xT-6MpCek1SvstSPEoiWdYlrkLDE2xU62b0dwhLJjPyE2DQmcdou1GYkzxmkJ1Ka4JdNirh0rg/s1600-h/07+17+09_0001EDITED.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vvITVY87xXXteJp65A6J2kKHSlK7ZbMbUDiFgnZp7EoZbGVrzUmG2-nHhGC0xT-6MpCek1SvstSPEoiWdYlrkLDE2xU62b0dwhLJjPyE2DQmcdou1GYkzxmkJ1Ka4JdNirh0rg/s400/07+17+09_0001EDITED.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359521214703834562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7pS8Zu7NSandVXrOEg1tpxJ6U3l7bnNsck36sIamMXIXj3WTS1I9KaXkeQU_bhjKc2cu9251EOiLPZQs9aPyUwKKw8hvyR0DeYCpMLZ89d0uApIpVGpUXb_J36UgW1WMB3kzxQ/s1600-h/07+17+09_0040EDITED.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7pS8Zu7NSandVXrOEg1tpxJ6U3l7bnNsck36sIamMXIXj3WTS1I9KaXkeQU_bhjKc2cu9251EOiLPZQs9aPyUwKKw8hvyR0DeYCpMLZ89d0uApIpVGpUXb_J36UgW1WMB3kzxQ/s400/07+17+09_0040EDITED.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359521207657339234" /></a><br /><br />Every morning my family room is hit by one tiny unnatural disaster called, "Hurricane Meghan". She swoops in, dumps out all the toys, spreads them around, and spends the rest of the day playing with her "new found" treasures. Hours of fun spent dressing up in Disney princess shoes, building with blocks, sorting through her many trinkets, playing with her dollhouse and the occasional "coco" party with her tea set...at the end of the day we usher our sleepy hurricane through her bedtime regime of teeth brushing, allergy medicene, reading of stories, prayer, and her protests over going to sleep. When all is settled mom and dad swoop in to do a better job than FEMA of cleaning up, just so that the little hurricane can strike again tomorrow.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-29938916360994793152009-07-18T03:44:00.005+09:002009-07-18T04:53:49.725+09:00Fills, Liquid Diets, and Food Storage<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fills</span></span><br /></div><br />Silly me, I just assumed the rest of the world understood what I meant when I would say, "I am going to get a fill." But an old friend pointed out the flaws in my thinking...thanks Masked Marauder!<br /><br />Many around me know that this past spring I chose to undergo gastric banding surgery. The band I had placed on my stomach is the Realize Band<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdOhSd8i37f8ESPwrXXNO9gzy6VQ-YXpshWppF1SdEksxDhN5-dMH6v2YexwCgburlcsCQhTaOireqk2g-rywocM7aHhjrGK0RfYig3Gtgs4hTdJc5E5h7dGQvWd1ANwQFXpu-w/s1600-h/band.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 78px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdOhSd8i37f8ESPwrXXNO9gzy6VQ-YXpshWppF1SdEksxDhN5-dMH6v2YexwCgburlcsCQhTaOireqk2g-rywocM7aHhjrGK0RfYig3Gtgs4hTdJc5E5h7dGQvWd1ANwQFXpu-w/s400/band.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359506774618793074" border="0" /></a><br />Gastric bands work by creating a small stoma on top of the larger stomach. This new stoma is up at the top near where the nerves are that tells your brain you are hungry. With the band you eat much smaller meals.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQ31WansZZOtWXgWqBNuDrsBKAMOImAMvGoQenMffbdQ223bam3VbZAhqn-NzA2xJlT28TJ3bXNV61ooGRTHF8_kQ83iW3Q7KIxOXxVVoKAOQ2eCSFs4wc-tZhGeW5JLCvwwnSQ/s1600-h/stomaband.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQ31WansZZOtWXgWqBNuDrsBKAMOImAMvGoQenMffbdQ223bam3VbZAhqn-NzA2xJlT28TJ3bXNV61ooGRTHF8_kQ83iW3Q7KIxOXxVVoKAOQ2eCSFs4wc-tZhGeW5JLCvwwnSQ/s400/stomaband.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359506787495309506" border="0" /></a> The food stays in the stoma and slowly funnels into the larger stomach to be digested.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pe-4RR26K6L2MSXwwG6oRNd2No6bRfjtYFlJU9xDvRwID1GroNAuNxgJ3q6XA-B1jPdLk5z2fbcow-QlB9JUBw8uSppPNFm2i2Qnzy1lA6OrORYEKYbSVflCK9XaGN63pVPqQw/s1600-h/stomach.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pe-4RR26K6L2MSXwwG6oRNd2No6bRfjtYFlJU9xDvRwID1GroNAuNxgJ3q6XA-B1jPdLk5z2fbcow-QlB9JUBw8uSppPNFm2i2Qnzy1lA6OrORYEKYbSVflCK9XaGN63pVPqQw/s400/stomach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359506787198062770" border="0" /></a><br />There is a tube that runs from the band to the port that is places usually under the rib cage. It is through this port that saline is injected into the band, tightening it (much like a belt). Yesterday I had my fourth fill, it is a painless process. (go <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgJn3IkoEdU">here</a> if you want to see a better discription)<br /><br />I learned yesterday that I have been eating more than I should. I have been eating 6 to 8 ounces by weight three times a day. My surgeon told me yesterday that a woman of my height (5'4") should be eating 4 ounces per meal. YIKES! Guess I have to work on that one.<br /><br />As of yesterday, I have lost 44.6 pounds since I began my pre-op diet February 14th. That puts me right on track to meet my first goal of 50 pounds lost by September 1st. This last weekend when I went shopping I was elated and speechless to be able to wear a size 22 dress. I haven't been a size 22 since the mid 90's.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Liquid Diets & Food Storage<br /></span><div style="text-align: left; font-weight: normal;">After a fill you are on a liquid diet for a few days. I have learned that there are numerous opinions out there as far as how many days you should be on a liquid diet...heck, there is even a difference of opinion in my surgeon's office. To error on the side of safety, I follow the nurses advice and follow a three day liquid diet, the day of the fill being day one.<br /><br />I have a confession to make...I treat myself to an indulgent milk shake once during these three days. Last night's dinner was that treat, I had a yogurt smoothie from Red Mango. Imagine fresh blueberries, Ghirardelli dark chocolate chips, and pomegranate yogurt blended into heaven in a cup......my mouth is watering just reminiscing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPiIQvwmp6uKdZh2Hv_gL_y2yiq93Ofg-vu8tTvAUlr1L1gIIHrWDeU6NtIuWdye5YtIHufZThj49oKOdNl9_sOEd6RCF2cZyi8jWojtOI0kg0C82lfqXTWpv4eIVvPoeSqjiNg/s1600-h/07+17+09_0002EDITED.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 364px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPiIQvwmp6uKdZh2Hv_gL_y2yiq93Ofg-vu8tTvAUlr1L1gIIHrWDeU6NtIuWdye5YtIHufZThj49oKOdNl9_sOEd6RCF2cZyi8jWojtOI0kg0C82lfqXTWpv4eIVvPoeSqjiNg/s400/07+17+09_0002EDITED.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359515553319248946" border="0" /></a>Today's lunch was almost as good, and since I made it at home it was much cheaper. I decided that I didn't want soup and that a protein shake would be the best thing to have. However, I didn't want your plain chocolate shake. <br /><br />When I got to the fridge I discovered that our milk expired a week ago. A quick sniff test confirmed that the milk needed to be tossed. We rarely drink milk, that is why our milk goes bad. This is where food storage comes in. I know that in times of an emergency I may not have the money or the ability to go to my local market to get a quart of milk, so we keep at least one box of powdered milk in our food storage. Food storage saved my lunch today! And because I needed to rotate my powdered milk, my lunch is helping my food storage....what a beautiful cycle!<br /><br />Enough rambling...here is how I made my delicious lunch today;<br /><ul><li>12 pitted and frozen cherries (I bought cherries a couple of weeks ago, since we couldn't eat them all before they spoiled I pitted about half and put them in the freezer for just such occasions)<br /></li><li>3 frozen banana chunks equal to about one banana (when my bananas get too ripe for us, ripe but not banana bread ripe I cut them into chunks and put them into a ziploc bag for smoothies. I like to use frozen fruit over ice, because ice melts and dilutes the flavor of smoothies)</li><li>8 ozs. of my aforementioned powdered milk prepared according to the directions on the box.</li><li>one scoop of my favorite chocolate protein powder, I use <a href="http://www.amazon.com/EAS-100%25-Whey-Protein-Chocolate/dp/B000S97OG6/ref=pd_sim_hpc_1">this</a></li></ul>Put all the ingredients in my blender and whirled up a yummy shake...next time I think I will use more cherries and less banana....<br /></div></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /><br /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-56997402649928400482009-07-18T03:37:00.002+09:002009-07-18T03:41:22.187+09:00Grateful FridayAnother great week here is "Wheelerville"...<br /><br />I am grateful;<br /><ol><li>For the opportunity to enjoy a fun meal with family! Thanks Rebekah & Jason!</li><li>For the ability to pass on Meghan's baby things to a precious baby soon to join her parents.</li><li>A great husband who quietly lent a helping hand the other night to help tidy up the house.</li><li>To be married to my best friend!</li><li>The joy brought to my life through my precious daughter...what a blessing it is to hear her giggles everyday, to receive her hugs, and to hear her call me mama.</li><li>For the opportunity to go back to school next month.</li><li>My band....best decision I could have made.<br /></li></ol><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9703951.post-4932214754082620532009-07-16T11:09:00.004+09:002009-07-16T11:31:12.449+09:00Tea CupsWhile we were stationed in England I had several opportunities to go to Stoke on Trent. This is where traditionally fine bone china was manufactured. In recent years some factories have closed down and outsourced the manufacturing. However, you can still go there and shop the seconds shops. Most of the items in these shops have defects so small they can barely be seen if seen at all. There were so many pretty patterns that there was no possible way I could just choose one to collect; nor did I think Phillip would allow me to collect several patterns. (That one is right up there with trying to figure out a way to justify a chandelier from Waterford, "But it was only 3000 euros, sweetie....") Just when I thought it was hopeless, just when I thought I would never be able to own lovely British china a memory from my youth came back to me.<br /><br />As a little girl I loved to look at my Great-Grandmother Berg's tea cup collection when we would go visit. Only once I had fully inspected the pretty cups and saucers from a distance and without touching them, would I raid the toy box for the old comics. <br /><br />It was then that I decided to collect tea cup/saucer sets. Over the next few years in England I would gather fourteen sets, twelve from shops in Stoke on Trent and two sets from antique shops. My collection has been displayed on the baker's rack, wall shelves, and recently on the ledge of the half wall in the kitchen. I have long wanted proper displays for my collection. <br /><br />Last fall my mama P told me about a shop in Old Colorado City that has displays she felt "screamed Lynn". This last weekend my parents took me there...boy was she right! The whole shop screams Lynn! I bought two displays that hold eight sets apiece. Monday morning I hung them up, washed the sets, and put them in their new home. Although I broke one saucer when it refused to bounce off the floor(I have since found it on-line and ordered it), I am rather happy with the results.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hnZdTzqFHL8JIo0m9dh6D5-khv3zbU4X8RdpGgTfUGJm9ALAAETktrr0LnIbzkCmk4BWbPgN59QeA1M7vF3GFF18azwHMifrwmS5I3kHPmOt2LgsRhkPagYzSc-OKpjVQT0dIA/s1600-h/07+15+09_0003edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hnZdTzqFHL8JIo0m9dh6D5-khv3zbU4X8RdpGgTfUGJm9ALAAETktrr0LnIbzkCmk4BWbPgN59QeA1M7vF3GFF18azwHMifrwmS5I3kHPmOt2LgsRhkPagYzSc-OKpjVQT0dIA/s400/07+15+09_0003edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358878818159378226" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCi69vmO88_i4qZ_waHosYAVPElfhkU_RP8IaYgD6GSEHGygqWLAtORpSLS8GXJJKnxsGk5qipbEhoLFspSENEoZVE9RJqX31aluYiclPirdBpHqp9ANw9udaGq-wVw-HIIuB4zQ/s1600-h/07+15+09_0001edited.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCi69vmO88_i4qZ_waHosYAVPElfhkU_RP8IaYgD6GSEHGygqWLAtORpSLS8GXJJKnxsGk5qipbEhoLFspSENEoZVE9RJqX31aluYiclPirdBpHqp9ANw9udaGq-wVw-HIIuB4zQ/s400/07+15+09_0001edited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358878809381639026" border="0" /></a><br />Even better, I have two slots just waiting to be filled with the perfect editions to the collection....<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85724/lmw9674/a6eef8a16ad52880319ab81731d94f70.png" border="0" /></a>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09905971149386258660noreply@blogger.com1