tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42482109886741505912024-02-19T15:44:18.095-08:00Russian TeachermomZhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-41584806640395398652017-04-16T22:24:00.001-07:002017-04-16T22:30:18.416-07:00A Different Kind of Easter<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It is 4:31pm on Easter Sunday and I am still in my pajamas. I haven't stepped outside in two days even though these were the warmest two days we had in months. The house is silent besides the occasional coughing I hear from upstairs as everyone else is celebrating this holy day somewhere else. I make myself some tea in my newest thrifted English cup and munch on a days old brownie. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQG4JRB3q21bvmp90BOp_QjjwB-UJNr4TEP3x3L0jGQxfbRXXGCxzA9AcZSlTf4b2h8MPMdn61NcrZSmbbN7SubYnApmB8SUtAoXYsFNM7OhXn4l9ex53vcTPpEptwHHpm_5ywCL1den8/s1600/IMG_9793+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQG4JRB3q21bvmp90BOp_QjjwB-UJNr4TEP3x3L0jGQxfbRXXGCxzA9AcZSlTf4b2h8MPMdn61NcrZSmbbN7SubYnApmB8SUtAoXYsFNM7OhXn4l9ex53vcTPpEptwHHpm_5ywCL1den8/s320/IMG_9793+%25281%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The cough wakes him up and he cries for me. I go upstairs and it begins again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Water!" Sips on water. "Cough. Cough. Milk! Water on THAT nightstand! No, on THAT one! Cough. Water!" Etc, etc times 5 or 10. I feel his body getting hotter again. He commands me to do other things and my fatigue body complies. Today is day three of his flu, 50th hour of him attached to my hip and his sweet face in mine, and I am too tired to act differently. Also, he is my 5th child and I am wise enough. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I scroll through my IG feed in the moments when he dozes off to sleep and I see picture perfect families together, dressed in their Easter best. And I sign. Today was supposed to be different. Three days ago, I was planning a party. But as the Good Book tells us: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMI7ZNHHPhYU3ZeLSFJWxbvhfU0cZxO8YzMhikKRKrFtMbYKZWg0WYDJgq9UxNuMirXOa403WF0VbbgQDTQuQvYzzmz2sDOhnSdinY-03qxyOAqKKyzUdyM_MciqDgvMjPqqr-HW1wvA/s1600/easterjesus2014_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMI7ZNHHPhYU3ZeLSFJWxbvhfU0cZxO8YzMhikKRKrFtMbYKZWg0WYDJgq9UxNuMirXOa403WF0VbbgQDTQuQvYzzmz2sDOhnSdinY-03qxyOAqKKyzUdyM_MciqDgvMjPqqr-HW1wvA/s400/easterjesus2014_.jpg" width="400" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Forgive the hyperbolic comparison...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I <i>was</i> supposed to dress all nice and enjoy the service after which I were to fly home and welcome 60 of our closest relatives and with a smile on my face take plates of yummy food of their hands and set it pretty on my cherry blossom tables. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqaQKpbGJAy4mqzyznUuzX4PUUnOKxOrOl3F3EYG_S2yebekRigksW2DzKvnoyE5ruQI3fBb98tzk7_5bAhYCTooasC0dQ-H3qQy9c1ZSexOPc67IV2VuY0CMQ0J2KIqrAEUyQowbNw78/s1600/IMG_9717+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqaQKpbGJAy4mqzyznUuzX4PUUnOKxOrOl3F3EYG_S2yebekRigksW2DzKvnoyE5ruQI3fBb98tzk7_5bAhYCTooasC0dQ-H3qQy9c1ZSexOPc67IV2VuY0CMQ0J2KIqrAEUyQowbNw78/s400/IMG_9717+%25281%2529.JPG" width="300" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And we would take pictures and we would sing worship songs and we would chat and lament</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">over the family that lost their young beautiful mama today... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You see, for that 44 years old mama of<i> eight,</i> a different party was planned for this Easter. Her soul met the resurrected King today. The same one she trusted and hoped would show up here on Earth and spare her of suffering. And he showed up, but did not spare. Today is the day she found the answer to<i> why not? </i>while the rest of us are left to wonder... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Left to hope. Left to put things in perspective (whats a flu compared to childhood cancer?) and left to trust in a bigger picture. We are left to remember that suffering and death is part of the human experience and that it is sanctifying as much as it is suffocating... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We are also left to love. Love like Jesus loved. Love like <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 18px;"><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Corinthians+13:4-8">1 Corinthians 13:4-8 </a>is engraved on our hearts and is a <i>verb.</i> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 18px;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeAO2bsanSEDaRTBOMNC2UWJRxpoPhBHtQMIjrH3AY6Sh9XnKjJk4NTnPaAFtZtPbtDsmOOFOtK78Y1ymmqlDzSxQ-eccCiaaCQWY2HEUGxnfmwfbDn8iwnNEoFEEBdi1BcApEuczNYg/s1600/IMG_9785.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeAO2bsanSEDaRTBOMNC2UWJRxpoPhBHtQMIjrH3AY6Sh9XnKjJk4NTnPaAFtZtPbtDsmOOFOtK78Y1ymmqlDzSxQ-eccCiaaCQWY2HEUGxnfmwfbDn8iwnNEoFEEBdi1BcApEuczNYg/s400/IMG_9785.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today, I am reminded that different is not bad and that not as planned is not necessarily disappointing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And I thank God that there is life after suffering.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Amen. </span><br />
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P.S. Oh, and here are some pictures baby niece, a rainbow baby, who made it into this world a few weeks prior and breathed new life into her long awaited parents and melted the heart of all those that knew their story. Love you, Eva š. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCDPJqhTLJkLjpQPgss3WwrW8rPjKxlutiACEkulscGRftFmRc098qQJDhlhc8L24QN_2qXdYwoW1mPrWuhBosi_yyCNlXXjWw5lEBTwu9LS2JXUmJpJU8BmXEzE0h7ATR7b_euZDDb0/s1600/IMG_9693.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCDPJqhTLJkLjpQPgss3WwrW8rPjKxlutiACEkulscGRftFmRc098qQJDhlhc8L24QN_2qXdYwoW1mPrWuhBosi_yyCNlXXjWw5lEBTwu9LS2JXUmJpJU8BmXEzE0h7ATR7b_euZDDb0/s320/IMG_9693.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCDPJqhTLJkLjpQPgss3WwrW8rPjKxlutiACEkulscGRftFmRc098qQJDhlhc8L24QN_2qXdYwoW1mPrWuhBosi_yyCNlXXjWw5lEBTwu9LS2JXUmJpJU8BmXEzE0h7ATR7b_euZDDb0/s1600/IMG_9693.JPG" imageanchor="1"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhySzpxUa8tQngnGNSJZY7Wyp6YZNk4HQMejj53FaVPzjrGmgHuQfwAOKq3cMkG65yfk39rjqTE-oaKJm1PfkK8dNddUc9vCrmNiEv-VdZAXWZMWCtNA77HEob6KrlAFXVk0RylQF2T7Gs/s1600/IMG_9694.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhySzpxUa8tQngnGNSJZY7Wyp6YZNk4HQMejj53FaVPzjrGmgHuQfwAOKq3cMkG65yfk39rjqTE-oaKJm1PfkK8dNddUc9vCrmNiEv-VdZAXWZMWCtNA77HEob6KrlAFXVk0RylQF2T7Gs/s320/IMG_9694.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br />Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-70613631196026614802017-01-13T16:51:00.003-08:002017-01-13T16:51:25.033-08:00The Longest Holiday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCL08CbgHXoPZ3xYWytB9IhX2OLQ3m0hXTtSD0pbCVHRldyWaey9qFlnalAF5hyRKD3uBVTuyZRRJQNXSP_mybYf_UidUauC5XxBcKwp4ibcg_23M4kQWjfwqzlz71ffzDm9_x2JeuwY/s1600/IMG_7940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCL08CbgHXoPZ3xYWytB9IhX2OLQ3m0hXTtSD0pbCVHRldyWaey9qFlnalAF5hyRKD3uBVTuyZRRJQNXSP_mybYf_UidUauC5XxBcKwp4ibcg_23M4kQWjfwqzlz71ffzDm9_x2JeuwY/s640/IMG_7940.JPG" width="480" /></a> <br />
As I write this, I am procrastinating on whole bunch of home and business projects that are calling my name. You see, the past several weeks (or has it been a month now?) have been pretty laid back around here and I think I am getting used to this type of life. It started with three snow days in December extending our Winter Break to almost 3 weeks. <br />
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We got back from the break only to be sent home for more snow days totaling eight days as of today and who knows how many more. NOBODY predicted it to be the biggest storm in decades with snow reaching a foot and even 15 inches in some places. <br />
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Needless to say these snow days have allowed for a lot of hours spent indoors lounging as well as outside playing.<br />
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Because we live on a hill, sledding has been the most popular activity. <br />
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Did you know that boogie boards make the best sled? We neither! Snowboards were also attempted...but not enjoyed as much. <br />
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As we oohed and awed at the snow in the previous weeks, this snowstorm, with today's sunshine has created a sight fit for fairy tales. Its chilly, yes, but there is zero wind and the sun actually warms your face.<br />
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If you are outside you want to stay...<br />
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and if you are inside you don't want to take your eyes off your window. <br />
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I chuckled as I walked passed the houses on our street and the street perpendicular. People from every other house were outside either shoveling or playing with their kids. A sight not usually seen.<br />
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I was finally able to see the faces of people who live in our neighborhood and even chatted with some. To my embarrassment, I found out that a neighbor three houses up had a baby. Ten months ago. And another has a kid similar age as Phillip who is kind and articulate. <br />
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Its not the first time that a snowstorm has introduced us to our neighbors. Eight years ago, during our last major snowstorm, I wrote about that event<a href="http://an%20unplanned%20%20escape/"> here</a>. I don't know what it is about our neighborhood that has its lacking a sense of community. We have been here 10 years this winter and it has <i>always</i> been this way. It is because of the hills and lack of front yard space/porches? Or that we are all mostly middle (striving for upper middle) class households that work many hours and don't have time to chit chat and connect? <br />
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About eight years ago though... I started my blog when I was on maternity leave with this guy<br />
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looking exactly like this<br />
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Goodness gracious...š<br />
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Sleepless nights were getting the most of my brain and I needed some way to prevent my neurons from getting completely fried. So I started this blog and started typing away. For the first year that is... But 100 posts! Thats one every three days with three kids 5 and under and a part time job and a Master's program! How in the world? This fixed itself though with later years averaging 3-9 posts a YEAR. Ahem. <br />
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But I digress. Snow. Days off from work, school, sporting events, homework, chauffeuring. Almost feels like getting off the hamster wheel for a bit and for the first time in ever...slowing down. <br />
Because when it snows, one really got no place to go... <br />
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These snow days come at a price. It is almost certain that we will have to make them up in June. </div>
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This means having <a href="http://russianteachermom.blogspot.com/2016_06_01_archive.html">the hardest month</a> to teach/go to school go to almost July. <br />
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I hope though that when June is here and we are <a href="http://russianteachermom.blogspot.com/2016_06_01_archive.html">crawling</a> towards the year end, this post will serve as a reminder of the longest holiday we got blessed with this year and hope that it repeats come next Winter. </div>
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-78534510250393147762016-12-18T21:35:00.001-08:002016-12-18T21:35:15.836-08:00On Pictures and Parenting <div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOMVvB0GtSzmDFF5aZx4xqocb-WZRGZzAz3oPWkHXJyM7aehZXxS92gOIQgb4U7JOhX7qaFNogAfq6YipQuki4V8_aAOzbbVS_6LYrq6XbSEaL_0l824jByYFDCPZqMiNgBJpzxN0IMiA/s1600/_DSC2682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOMVvB0GtSzmDFF5aZx4xqocb-WZRGZzAz3oPWkHXJyM7aehZXxS92gOIQgb4U7JOhX7qaFNogAfq6YipQuki4V8_aAOzbbVS_6LYrq6XbSEaL_0l824jByYFDCPZqMiNgBJpzxN0IMiA/s640/_DSC2682.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Life has been busy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as soccer wrapped up, I found myself running around to wrestling and basketball, watching my boys tackle two new sports and the weeks got away from us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Iām not the first one to say that time flies and yet, how DID I find myself married to almost a forty year old?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked at my handsomest yesterday in natural, indirect sunlight and swooned over the fact that the amount of silver hair on his head is dominating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4odY-x9HV7AWZ0iO1FTooXvhRyIpfT-27JR6kAvGmt63yfL_mCyCj0Y5T-0gjrDxY93L5Wa1P3YQQd3J3H6xNrzMt7yJHPnd6ikVlceHM6zSPtBjc90n-ZJRtwL49SdZKSiJvxJtbNs/s1600/_DSC3056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4odY-x9HV7AWZ0iO1FTooXvhRyIpfT-27JR6kAvGmt63yfL_mCyCj0Y5T-0gjrDxY93L5Wa1P3YQQd3J3H6xNrzMt7yJHPnd6ikVlceHM6zSPtBjc90n-ZJRtwL49SdZKSiJvxJtbNs/s640/_DSC3056.jpg" width="426" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The other week, we were able to getaway for a few days to a paradise state and while playing </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">in the crystal clear </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">turqu</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">oise water like two newlyweds, it did not occur to either of us that we are 15 years older than that time in Mazatlan, Mexico and are currently parenting 5 kids-- toddler to teen and that we supposed to have figured some things out in this life</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> by now.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeaUVTL8d7Na2TGw2RV2TPimVSsE-c4dVQtprPONU2YUVG1Ziaw8BlLCZO9AliP1e6lckAq7kVX67ET_d1rCH3Lf_qwrJbgW7W4Te2l0Xw0m-725vcg0Tjcb40gOFPXdZRmMOTlq0yDc/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeaUVTL8d7Na2TGw2RV2TPimVSsE-c4dVQtprPONU2YUVG1Ziaw8BlLCZO9AliP1e6lckAq7kVX67ET_d1rCH3Lf_qwrJbgW7W4Te2l0Xw0m-725vcg0Tjcb40gOFPXdZRmMOTlq0yDc/s640/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcaCU2KQUyH70iNhNIrCkS6z2_DMIw3T_V4sy6h6aX3r_KNOnHxW31h3baFslsZYn_7cDfVq8XeiaehTftejwoC57t6A6B9NOtPoGbFOF19C3K0INiRFqa4-FRTVNW3e8ScN5Q6BqzO8/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcaCU2KQUyH70iNhNIrCkS6z2_DMIw3T_V4sy6h6aX3r_KNOnHxW31h3baFslsZYn_7cDfVq8XeiaehTftejwoC57t6A6B9NOtPoGbFOF19C3K0INiRFqa4-FRTVNW3e8ScN5Q6BqzO8/s640/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But the truth is, when it comes to parenting<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>at least, we still, just like when we had our first, have no idea what in the world we are doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We find ourselves more patient with some things and less patient with others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We understand that parenting is a serious matter, yet<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we are learning to choose our battles and laugh many things off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are less concerned with raising perfect children and more with people who are kind and wise. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as we grieve over the fact that weeks fly, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>time is at no mercy<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and this fact alone guides the words we utter to each other and the decisions we make. Most of the time. Sometimes, though our life is a bit like this picture. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg015R8P__A-_s6oxaPKlmwaOwG7C0SNpmxGeLW321NP2gzS_mE4s6pmUMzrB27mLN-E8CODsXWd9S15zkcBdjLeEdflTAU4sLR4NG-E8luHp75o6lzQjA3mvkfr_MPyLQScKSZkhULsHE/s1600/_DSC2727+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg015R8P__A-_s6oxaPKlmwaOwG7C0SNpmxGeLW321NP2gzS_mE4s6pmUMzrB27mLN-E8CODsXWd9S15zkcBdjLeEdflTAU4sLR4NG-E8luHp75o6lzQjA3mvkfr_MPyLQScKSZkhULsHE/s640/_DSC2727+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My sis captured our expression the moment my son threw a pinecone when he was supposed to pose for the picture and we are watching to see where it lands. Will it hit her or her son in the head or will it miss? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Walking on eggshells hoping it all turns out OK... </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdx5SfZJZOG1VtBkS3dUoKe9p1VEDQ1MNCbhr8jpPEy6rRkf2QvvuPPeicuIUTTkhKQZzv3d-Vy1ISkPOrlMf3IWwNfbHfK4-iCKNV7QScSfRHZhU4RolcwraA8HLCuEnoM4E9SRmApcM/s1600/_DSC2815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdx5SfZJZOG1VtBkS3dUoKe9p1VEDQ1MNCbhr8jpPEy6rRkf2QvvuPPeicuIUTTkhKQZzv3d-Vy1ISkPOrlMf3IWwNfbHfK4-iCKNV7QScSfRHZhU4RolcwraA8HLCuEnoM4E9SRmApcM/s640/_DSC2815.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It would be a lie to say that I treasure and swoon over every moment I have with my kids. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdX54qNg92hyphenhyphenR0K1GWnZNSLKDXl-dWfLBN_fBPrwbHubrmZ3bVfts8kuH4T7JO7XAuwBdv2j0cfRnfiKqD9kZYckNw4c8XkhU44zN1TXLcCCVgHT3Ca6y7DbgUhf0ovsUo2cf8j3bDBs/s1600/_DSC2962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdX54qNg92hyphenhyphenR0K1GWnZNSLKDXl-dWfLBN_fBPrwbHubrmZ3bVfts8kuH4T7JO7XAuwBdv2j0cfRnfiKqD9kZYckNw4c8XkhU44zN1TXLcCCVgHT3Ca6y7DbgUhf0ovsUo2cf8j3bDBs/s640/_DSC2962.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We have all kinds of moments... There are those when part of me earns for an escape, a place where I don't have to think of what to say next or how to handle a certain situation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've never liked conflicts and by trying to avoid them all my life, have never learned a productive way to solve them. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRsnKLbToR2dz1vbCwCVO1Fwi1FayKzRpp-WWwvqXca4fBhuBO4-AH7EM5k5OGT4rR2UvGXaqkQXJ__S5At1oMeHz1oKfIRBXNqaXDOm5pJk1Mxd1AOQLcTGC8OWcqdSf4HlA5bUrB39c/s1600/_DSC3045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRsnKLbToR2dz1vbCwCVO1Fwi1FayKzRpp-WWwvqXca4fBhuBO4-AH7EM5k5OGT4rR2UvGXaqkQXJ__S5At1oMeHz1oKfIRBXNqaXDOm5pJk1Mxd1AOQLcTGC8OWcqdSf4HlA5bUrB39c/s640/_DSC3045.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With a teen in a house and more on the way, I have a feeling I'll get a little better at them š. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There are also those moments, when joy overspills and I cannot imagine greater happiness than this life of mine right that second. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKE2aMVuEM8Vy2ixYIbSSheE6vuyCjT_x_fWnSwTU4P_z7zvDIWBk4c_iqlZ3Y68vOHSkz9hT9QwRgTj9hQJf7DMzvNN9YoY5Kpjp5rlsWWYWtPRJZj2GVgxjJlxEFcFqwwpkcmjyH604/s1600/_DSC2832-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKE2aMVuEM8Vy2ixYIbSSheE6vuyCjT_x_fWnSwTU4P_z7zvDIWBk4c_iqlZ3Y68vOHSkz9hT9QwRgTj9hQJf7DMzvNN9YoY5Kpjp5rlsWWYWtPRJZj2GVgxjJlxEFcFqwwpkcmjyH604/s640/_DSC2832-2.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0e3J8tGvFBL5g3D08L6hk8JCBgRCuzYWF4MjpMgF39mVQ48EUsxSFM3ZbBZRXudLxNtQYcaPekqL4g-a0ZgIVeUDvLflc5l05eCh1LZ94DBCOwWm16GaDSvocPHM4y9O-aVRhTQPIr4/s1600/_DSC2931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0e3J8tGvFBL5g3D08L6hk8JCBgRCuzYWF4MjpMgF39mVQ48EUsxSFM3ZbBZRXudLxNtQYcaPekqL4g-a0ZgIVeUDvLflc5l05eCh1LZ94DBCOwWm16GaDSvocPHM4y9O-aVRhTQPIr4/s640/_DSC2931.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our household is loud and the days where that noise is dominated by the kids are actually great days. The days where the patience for disobedience runs out and the household gets louder are days no one here is proud of...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And when quiet moments of reflection happen, we cling to grace and the never ceasing hope that tomorrow will be a better day. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8eaK2DepikXEFDDqdhBst2Lgxn9sFucOL11HgWCr4A3fT1N_ENG_pSCC_-35ObPfHHeSb8WLCrFZGnJ8bBIJSYB7GY2cmNS4cxocAFDEOsC_a_NAioT2eE6FtzI4lZ9EGw01nFuCGw4/s1600/_DSC2779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8eaK2DepikXEFDDqdhBst2Lgxn9sFucOL11HgWCr4A3fT1N_ENG_pSCC_-35ObPfHHeSb8WLCrFZGnJ8bBIJSYB7GY2cmNS4cxocAFDEOsC_a_NAioT2eE6FtzI4lZ9EGw01nFuCGw4/s640/_DSC2779.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Parent teacher conferences happened a few weeks ago. And with each of the three school children of ours, I smiled ear to ear and thought I would burst with pride as each teacher raved about them. They are leaders, respectful, hard working, kind, etc, etc other qualities that this house of ours often doesn't witness. When kids get home, they let their guard down and the pressure to perform, please and comply ceases and we see the real them. Just as they see the real us... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCJ5-1Cql3uXCuJrktni1OrU45_Cv3sAr1vgBRbCa9GCmdkVVPStz9l9ky2vejMvu6n5FbmD4ltkkIcI77T_QYQwgPRqLkwmNR1r5X1Y40xwfzO6pDDtingWnI4HBnyrIHf4irM5WSN8/s1600/_DSC2989.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCJ5-1Cql3uXCuJrktni1OrU45_Cv3sAr1vgBRbCa9GCmdkVVPStz9l9ky2vejMvu6n5FbmD4ltkkIcI77T_QYQwgPRqLkwmNR1r5X1Y40xwfzO6pDDtingWnI4HBnyrIHf4irM5WSN8/s640/_DSC2989.jpg" width="640" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But just like the pictures from photoshoots that don't make it to Instagram and Pinterest because they <strike>they weren't perfect </strike> didn't turn out as one of more subjects had their finger up their nose or a melt down, those things did happen and they are us, authentic, raw and imperfectly perfect. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">So when lament over the fact that these four walls see their share of antonyms and all the teaching and disciplining appears in vain, grace, forgiveness, and hope show up and your heart is full and you are content with your imperfectly perfect life. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gh_xTl3JXs3HuBsPB0PFwMnI1gdOzEP8RC0AvGj7u9Nzm_Jts6XeVSkzmB2AF0-oi1MmbVK9gqkXoEzRg-zFu1qzY_1fhsfIfk3pfuYW0ocgk-TFt5EBcUQcqB2ATCqWiCOubVC35Zg/s1600/_DSC2850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gh_xTl3JXs3HuBsPB0PFwMnI1gdOzEP8RC0AvGj7u9Nzm_Jts6XeVSkzmB2AF0-oi1MmbVK9gqkXoEzRg-zFu1qzY_1fhsfIfk3pfuYW0ocgk-TFt5EBcUQcqB2ATCqWiCOubVC35Zg/s640/_DSC2850.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our annual Fall pictures happened a month or so ago. My sister graciously insisted that we need to take them that day or else they won't happen and so we went. We couldn't decide where to go but when my husband suggested we go to the property we bought last year, I welcomed the idea and was so glad for it. The lighting was perfect and the fall colors showed up here and there. Most members of the fam were in a great mood and the whole photoshoot felt relaxed and natural. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmANJZD5-SvfwDKlgGITlgKXsKWj4NW7o_RIVc4MkF9VhJT-b6BTHX1hJsV5OoP57027leWtxxDILJrw4ppDqbzYCyt1X9kcnN8dCE9FapPhYsqi8f1lRXyYI7k5UYm_EBoeZdAYU5Hs/s1600/_DSC2889+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmANJZD5-SvfwDKlgGITlgKXsKWj4NW7o_RIVc4MkF9VhJT-b6BTHX1hJsV5OoP57027leWtxxDILJrw4ppDqbzYCyt1X9kcnN8dCE9FapPhYsqi8f1lRXyYI7k5UYm_EBoeZdAYU5Hs/s640/_DSC2889+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Plus, my sister, who is ever so awesome to continue to do this for us year after year...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxCEi4ub5klrtRRPxKq5nd8lywUD7h98rca17W-J3TylirlIQ7DGAliLSr0KzTkpR6nDBEmjacWzaWd5rCBJkM5z95B9Sv-H64Y75SmnCzcyeqokwdyUxDiaq87zJ7XEydq1g6-wmLqo/s1600/_DSC2974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxCEi4ub5klrtRRPxKq5nd8lywUD7h98rca17W-J3TylirlIQ7DGAliLSr0KzTkpR6nDBEmjacWzaWd5rCBJkM5z95B9Sv-H64Y75SmnCzcyeqokwdyUxDiaq87zJ7XEydq1g6-wmLqo/s640/_DSC2974.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tomorrow marks the first official day of Christmas Break. There is so much catching up to do around the house plus all the hosting that happens in December! But because we keep Christmas pretty low key presents wise, there will also be time for cookie baking, extra long snuggles, feet massages, book reading and Christmas lights sightings. Oh and potty training. Almost forgot potty training. That is in our plans as well. Ahem... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So we will have bad moments on great days--but that's OK as long as good moments, as gray hairs, dominate. </span><br />
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-59437389013776989412016-08-22T23:55:00.003-07:002016-08-23T15:32:15.473-07:00Thirteen in SeattleWe have a teenager in the house, y'all and looking over all the pictures from previous years is messing me up!<br />
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I mean, those older people tried to warn me....but when days of sick babies and sleep deprived mama seem long, who can believe that years <i>fly.</i> My daughter is 13 this month, but honestly, I feel like I have been mothering FOREVER. I hardly remember my life pre-babies anymore. This is partially due to my ever failing memory, but mostly because I was blessed with a new identity that one summer night and I never looked back. Who am I apart from being a mama to 5? I can hardly describe...<br />
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Back to my baby girl. I just reread <a href="http://russianteachermom.blogspot.com/2013/08/10.html">this </a>post from 3 years back and giggled at some things that were present at <a href="http://russianteachermom.blogspot.com/2013/08/10.html">10</a>. Some things have changed, but some are very much still there. <br />
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Over the past year, especially, I have been thinking a lot about how her and I are similar and how we are different. The differences are so great that sometimes I am at awe that we share genetical makeup. I love our differences, but sometimes I look at her and say--"Yep, that is so me!"-- with pride and other times with my head hung low hanging on to grace... </div>
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I decided to document some of those things for the sake of maybe revisiting it in a few years for another chuckle. </div>
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<ul>
<li>She is a blond, I am a brunette</li>
<li>She's got beautiful eyes that are blue, mine are the same shape as hers but brown. </li>
<li>Though we both have curly hair, she loves to wear hers straight. </li>
<li>We are both very responsible especially when it comes to schooling (Runs in the family--thanks, mom!)</li>
<li> She very much cares about her appearance in public, while I do too, I have no problem running to a grocery store in the same clothes I spent the day cleaning in. </li>
<li>Abby is <i>obsessed</i> with high end brands. I can care less and prefer that I don't advertise any company's logo for free. (Praying she will grow over it). </li>
<li>She's also obsessed with cars. Talks a lot about owning a <i>fancy one</i> one day. All I care about is that it runs and is roomy enough for our fam. </li>
<li> While we both love sushi and other Asian food, I prefer to reserve soy sauce for those cuisines while she can add to it <i>every </i>meal.</li>
<li> She is athletic and I am (was?) too. </li>
<li>I love to read for pleasure, she reserves it for academic purposes.</li>
<li>I love her choice for clothing more with every day that passes...</li>
<li>She loves to play her music loud. I'm getting way to old for that... </li>
<li>She loves the mall, I prefer boutique style shopping. Choices overwhelm me. </li>
<li>The girl loooooves high heels. Ouch--is all I have say about that. </li>
<li>She loves to cook and experiment with different combination of flavors--I am a devout recipe follower. </li>
<li>She's got a knack for organizing, please don't open my cupboards. </li>
<li>She plays the piano better than me, has an ear for music and also plays the flute. </li>
<li>She is an extrovert all the way. </li>
<li>Though we share jeans, she is a pear, I'm an apple. </li>
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There is probably more, but thats all I can think of right now. We spent her big day in Seattle--here is a quick recap. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwXrjX8atU5BZf0WLmSsadtntyxQIMquh4VCf2ZUExiEhGEBMNsFx0Xnr9yZp3kJKPKO1Tjf8-EPkVjgN4fVEz1rw9LFvD4EBdGVgrYnXxSGNclFehUimh-lUVnuRweC2MVgA23Wou8_I/s1600/DSC_0179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a>We woke up early, but ended up leaving around 8am. Our first stop was of course the Pike's Market. We were mostly impressed with the street musicians and various seafood--foot long<br />
lobsters, y'all! <br />
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The market itself is a bit overwhelming--lots of people and lots of vendors. I don't do well with too many choices. We made our way through the covered area and out to the street where we found <a href="http://www.pikeplacechowder.com/">Pike Place Chowder.</a> The line was loooong but definitely worth the wait. </div>
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Though my husband enjoyed his lobster roll, I think I will skip my crab roll next time and just get a double serving of chowder. Yum! <br />
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After lunch we got coffee <a href="https://storyville.com/">here. </a> Another score (not money wise, but flavor)! Its located on the upper floor of the building right across from the market--feels worlds away from the hustle when you are there. My latte was so smooth and delicious and the decor and architecture is so so beautiful. If I had more than one day to spend in Seattle, I might have just camped myself there for a whole day with a book in hand.<br />
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Goodness, she looks all grown up! <br />
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We passed the ever colorful Gum Wall on our way to the Ferris Wheel and Pier 59. I wanted to keep walking, but teenagers had to take a picture ;).<br />
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It was the perfect day for the Ferris Wheel. The 360 degree view from the cabins (?) was so pretty, definitely something I would love to do again.<br />
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Pier 59 is full of gift shops, an ice cream shop and seafood restaurants. Restaurants range from casual to fine dining; we gravitated towards casual. The gift shops had mostly tourist material with some gems such as these mixed in:<br />
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After Pier 59, we decided to walk all the way to the Sculpture Park. Ahem. Maybe not such a great idea. It was farther then we thought. Would have been wiser to park closer to the park and take a walk in the park instead. <br />
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By the time we made it to the park, no one felt like walking much further.<br />
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Mixed in our trip was a parking ticket (almost a towing ticket--sign of relief!) and my husband being mistaken for a homeless person while waiting for us near the gift shop. We had all had a good chuckle. <br />
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Love you baby girl, many many more Happy Birthdays to ya! </div>
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-697805283599771692016-06-20T12:21:00.000-07:002016-07-10T08:53:50.710-07:00Free-End of the School Year Reflections <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It seemed like June would never get here and then...it did. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Whoever thought of the idea to have school go through the middle of June here in the PNW has probably never attended school in the summer. Growing up in Russia, traditionally, September 1st marked the beginning of the school year, and June 1st marked the beginning of summer. Three solid months off. Simple math. Brilliant idea. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As usual, kids started to check out in early May and by the time June came along...<span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-size: x-small; line-height: 41.28px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: middle;"><a class="word spf-link" href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fuhgeddaboudit&defid=967829" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 41.28px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: middle;">f<span style="color: black;">uhgeddaboudi</span></a>t! </span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As a parent, I checked out around the same time as well. Overnight, I seemed to have forgotten that they still get homework and that I might still need to read the paperwork that continues to come home. And as a teacher... well this may very well sum it up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My professional and personal life limped to the finish line slow but steady and starting today, I'm a <span style="color: #444444;">free</span> bird. Sort of--if you don't get 5 human beings 12 and under that will accompany me in my flight full time. But seriously, being a teacher is awesome in so many ways, but June (though half of!), July, and August make it that much sweeter. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was anxious about this school year. My baby was around 9 months old when I returned to work, not sleeping through the night, and with soccer and other activities, I was worried it would be a hard year. What I didn't know is that our family will be hit with a lot of sicknesses (all temporary though--grace!) including yours truly who was down for about 5 days with a bad ear/throat infection. In addition to this, we would buy a 1920s farmhouse in our dream area that needs LOTS of love and even more work, begin renovating it and go through process of prepping for and putting our house on the market. A separate post about this purchase is due, but the reason for this big (for us) endeavour was so that our kids could have space to roam around and we could be debt free (or close to it). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Of course, my husband's job had to pick up crazy speed in January and it seems like we've been on a hamster wheel for as long as forever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">School year started off really well. My students were wonderful, lots of teaching and learning was happening, and then as soon as I thought about how great everything is going....A few kids with complicated, big personalities got thrown into my mix and my job became a lot more <strike>interesting </strike>challenging. One group of kids in particular, could not have been more diverse in many different ways. I love diversity, but polar opposite personalities, language levels, and abilities all in the same class present itself a complicated bunch to steer in one direction. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Slow and steady, limping towards the end there...they too made it and are now free. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I said good bye to many seniors who grew up right in front of my eyes (transformation from a freshman to senior though) and sincerely wished them the best of luck now that they are free from the 7-2 daily commitment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In May, I'm often tempted to sign kids up for summer camps and classes and then I'm thankful that I didn't. Summer is not the time I want to feel restricted and rush everyone out the door in the mornings. For us, being free to plan our day however we want to has worked in the past. This summer, the kids will do some overnight church camps, but those are a breeze to get ready for and are a load of fun for the kids. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What is different this summer though is that our house is still on the market (SIGN). So, keeping it presentable with 5 kids living their lives is going to be a challenge. Showings that are scheduled several hours ahead are grace, but I am getting a little anxious for the whole thing to resolve with an offer. </span><br />
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Here is to a carefree (ha! totally fooling myself here, but still) summer. Wish you, friends, some carefree days this summer as well! <br />
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-1332308516713537662016-04-09T00:19:00.001-07:002016-04-09T00:19:09.537-07:00Pee HappensI should have followed by instinct to unload everyone at home and call it an evening after making a <span style="text-align: center;">u-turn two blocks from the grocery store I was heading to because one of my babies fell asleep on the way. Instead, I gave into the plea of my two oldest to take them to the park as their cousin was playing soccer there. I'm a sucker for soccer. I love to watch them play and that they love it so much. So, I had them grab a milk bottle from the house and back up the hill we went.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Tim after first soccer practice. Lovely. </span></div>
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As I waited in the car with one baby sleeping and the other jumping on my lap, I grinned from ear to ear as I watched them play. Pretty soon, the thought that the baby just drank the last of milk dawned on me and I started thinking about getting back to the grocery store somehow. <br />
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BUT, the four year old woke up and wanted to play and the weather was so nice and if it weren't for the complete darkness that we soon found ourselves in, we would have stayed longer. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKHbGwOP4K7hARN4355g6BfM4jAEP-Tn7vEfnD0E-mvhZ21dzRFkmpSlOyZk_y6gXrm0a_B7F9DbXFkblDqAGBG60PnbCBsQvAOuF7k382HnncAYBBGoLi7CAb34mI1rTHUCN6w9I1LM/s1600/IMG_4558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKHbGwOP4K7hARN4355g6BfM4jAEP-Tn7vEfnD0E-mvhZ21dzRFkmpSlOyZk_y6gXrm0a_B7F9DbXFkblDqAGBG60PnbCBsQvAOuF7k382HnncAYBBGoLi7CAb34mI1rTHUCN6w9I1LM/s400/IMG_4558.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
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With my youngest three boys in tow (the oldest asked to play at his cousin's for a bit), I glanced at the clock and against my better judgment, I decided to do a quick stop at our neighborhood store at 8:45 in the evening. <br />
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Needless to say, a quick stop turned into an hour long trip. They opted for one of those hard to maneuver kid shopping carts and enjoyed them for about five and a half minutes. That's about when the struggle began and it was real. Between handling the baby climbing in and out of the "driver" section and wanting to be held and to run around, the four year old asking to buy this and that, the eight year old doing the same as both the four year old and the baby, the kind shoppers who were complementing my monolingual four year old on his <i>shiner, </i>I thought I was never to complete this trip. <br />
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As we finally, somehow made our way around our usual route, I remembered that we didn't have much of anything for the late dinner we were about to have. So in my effort to find something hot, economical and healthy, I went back and worth between the deli isles while chasing a toddler and answering unimportant questions that my talk abled children wanted answered. <br />
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In my despair I settled for pizza and baked chicken. Because we had to wait for them to bake the pizza, I, being an efficient mom (ha!) headed to the register to pay. That's when all hell broke loose and the straw that broke the camels back happened. <br />
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As I was getting ready to pay, holding a baby tightly on my hip, a lady asked to excuse her as she made a weird movement around us. Puzzled, l looked around and saw that something has dripped on the floor around us. My immediate thoughts were---"Water? Did the baby spill water on himself and the floor? Wait a minute, we never brought water. Oh no. No!" In about few seconds more liquid was on the floor and that's when the baby escaped my embrace and it was evident to everyone standing in that now long line that he peed through his diaper or that I was THAT kind of mother that has a kid pee through his diaper.<br />
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In that same moment as my feeling of inadequacy was being validated. I heard a man who was standing behind me gently and quietly say the following:<br />
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"Pee Happens."<br />
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I turned my burgundy colored face around and smiled wide as he smiled back and shrug his shoulders.<br />
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I don't remember what happened next. I remember apologizing and trying to refrain from laughing. The laugh mimicked a nervous laugh of someone who is about to become crazy. I continued to laugh as we marched to the bathroom. I took out a diaper that I was so thankful to find at the bottom of the diaper bag and a clean outfit. Grace. <br />
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I laughed when I kissed my baby's cheeks and naked tummy as I changed him. I laughed as I took a glimpse of my self in the mirror--wearing mismatched tops and an awful hairdo. I laughed at the fact that I would have never laughed if I wasn't a mom in my thirties. <br />
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My husband coincidently pulled up to the store on his way home from choir practice just as we were ready to leave. I laughed harder when I retold him the events that he barely missed. <br />
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On my way home, all I could think of were those timely words of "Pee Happens!" He has no idea how much I needed to hear them today and for the days to come. Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-81543160861461961962016-03-08T23:28:00.000-08:002016-03-08T23:28:14.676-08:00Tempted to Judge <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Earlier this week I was an observer of a scene that stirred something in me. It happened in a library close to my home. I noticed that the kid section was unusually busy; very soon it was obvious that the commotion was caused by a daycare group that was visiting. As I was choosing books for my littles, I couldn't help but notice the interactions between the teachers and the toddlers present. Four two year olds per one teacher was the ratio with 12 kids present. For about 45 minutes that they were there, two teachers were busy choosing "teacher books" as they called it and reminded kids not to touch, and one was trying to keep an eye on the 12 kids who were forbidden to leave an area thats it about 10' by 20'. Throughout this entire time, I heard a lot of reminders, commands such as "Stop!" and "Sit Down!" the tone of which was not in a gentle reminder way but more of an utterance of annoyance. Not a single praise or compliment or positive one on one interaction. At one point I might have cried a little with one of the toddlers who was put into a timeout and started to cry "Mama!" in the middle of the library. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I got home, I fumed with disbelief and ranted the story to my dad, then to my sister and my husband of how this daycare located in the middle to upper-middle class area can have workers like that take care of the kids. I mean, do these parents, who fork over close to a grand per month for these kids know how their kids are being treated? Do they know that these teachers didn't even make an effort to be nice to the kids while out in public? What then goes on inside the daycare? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I went on and on and on... until I stopped and thought. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Would it be fair for someone to judge the kind of a parent<i> I</i> am based on a 45 minute observation?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I too rely on others to care of my kids. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I too do not know how they are <i>really</i> being treated when I am not home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My ratio of compliments to reminders sucks. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I utter reminders and threats in a tone of annoyance as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The words of Mathew 7:5 are spot on: </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; line-height: 21.6px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 21.6px;">In their defense, those daycare workers can argue that they are underpaid, understaffed,undertrained, and are simply treating it like a <i>job not a career or an investment. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 21.6px;">What excuses can I resort to? Yes, I am often outnumbered and always sleep deprived, but I have learned better and these children of mine are just that--MINE. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 21.6px;">I sow every day in hopes that one day I can reap the <i>sweet </i>fruits of my labor. What <i>does </i>my labor looks like on a daily basis? Does what comes out of my mouth build them up or tear them down? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 21.6px;">Reminders are always <i>reactive</i>, what can I do to practice <i>responding</i> to their actions in a way thats firm but kind? What about sibling interaction? How do I handle tattle-tailing, play turned fight, teasing and nagging in an non annoyed kind of way? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The truth is, I don't know the answers to these questions. Or maybe I do until I am in a middle of making dinner with a baby on my hip, a preschooler who is pulling the string of my apron open, a pre-teen who chose that very moment to complain about the fact that she doesn't have anything to wear again and a 7 year old who is crying about his 9 year brother 's comeback being far from gentle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yeah, it is then that it because clear I am in no position to judge<i> anyone </i>no matter how tempting it might be to me, the observer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span>Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-44871899629099798352016-02-11T21:42:00.001-08:002016-02-11T21:51:44.394-08:00Happy 4th Birthday, My Valentine! <div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We have a birthday boy in the house. The boy who is holding baby's hand turned 3 this month and that is what I see in my rear view mirror every time the three of us get out. He holds his hand when he is fussy and he holds his hand when he is not which pretty much summarizes his character right there. He is super sweet and has been obsessed over babies ever since he could barely walk himself. He sings to his little brother and is the first one 'on the scene' when the baby is in need of attention. I joke and say that he is destined to be a father of many ;) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So this was the beginning of a post I never published last year. Yeah.... I have good intentions, love this space, but for one reason or another neglect the white pages that are waiting for me to fill them with memories and stories. My brain is too sleep deprived to remember doctor's appointments much less anything else of equal importance, so for the sake of remembering, reminiscing, reflecting, and processing, I MUST check in more often. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anyway, this awesome little boy, my fourth child, is turning big 4 this year and just like that the year flew by. The little baby on the picture is an active toddler who is running around the house with a mouth full of teeth and is starting to say his first words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hello bruises and new adventures. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A year later, the birthday boy still holds the baby's hand in the car and sings to him to help him fall asleep. Yesterday, he put him down for a nap. True story. Born on Valentine's Day, he is my most kindest, selfless child. He is genuinely caring and is first to notice if someone is in need of any kind of assistance. I have two questions--HOW did I get a child like this and how do I KEEP him this way? Your assistance is truly appreciated. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He loves going to Russian school once a week, if he makes it there without falling asleep on the way there. Still little like that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here is he is filming a little part in a Thanksgiving video for our church. He spoke very cute English, not his first language, here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our clan choosing a Christmas tree. We told ourselves we have to keep it not to0 tall, but somehow ended up with the tallest tree we've ever had. It was beautiful though. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He loves his oldest brothers and wants to join them in EVERYTHING they do. He joins them in a game of four square and when a neighbor asks them to come over. He is their little tail, but they don't seem to mind. He pays back with kindness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Besides Leo, his other big admirer is his younger cousin, Joseph, my sister's boy. He is Phillip's little tail and imitates his every move. They get to go on a lot of adventures together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Like many kids his age, he is really big into pretend play right now. Every morning before I go to work, I get summoned to go catch the bad guys or help fight a fire. I love his imagination and love to join him in this play. Can he just stay 4 like forEVER? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He is super excited about his birthday. We are celebrating it with his friends--little cousins his age. The plan is simple--feed them pizza and cake and take them to JJ Jump to burn off the calories ;) For his birthday theme he chose Paw Patrol, and has prematurely opened every single Party City item that we bought while I was at work. I became a mom prior to Pinterest (which didn't make me any craftier) and am sticking to store party decor--if the kid wants Paw Patrol- who am I to interfere?! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Stay sweet, my child! Love you to the moon and back times a million. </span></div>
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-52335473397145823792015-09-17T21:13:00.002-07:002015-09-17T21:13:40.593-07:00Life These September Days As I wrap up week 3 of mine going back to work after a 9 month long maternity leave, I find my self longing for those slower days when I was home. Though all the glory of postpartum healing and taking care of a newborn in a house full of older kids was not easy, I felt that I did have some control of my day and how I wanted to spend it. The days when my membership cards to various kid places slipped out of my wallet as easily and (almost) as frequently as Visa are gone. And the beloved public library visits? Not the first thing that comes to mind when I come home and my babies fall into my arms. <br />
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I know there are working moms out there that begin before the sun is up and make it home in time to make dinner and haul kids to various events. I cannot even and don't know how you do it. I love working part-time and that the schedule this school year allows me to wake up with my babies and cuddle with them in the morning. Baths happen in the morning too and I love giving them then. <br />
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These two are becoming pretty good buds spending a biiiiiig chunk of the day side by side. <br />
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I love that I get to send my older kids off to school with kisses and breakfast and homework (fingers crossed) and other paperwork complete. I love that I'm home to meet them when they come from school.<br />
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But I really, really miss our outings with my younger babies. Having a mid-day work schedule just doesn't allow for driving across town and spending several hours exploring all things fun. <br />
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Soccer makes us go out and play on the playground while we wait for boys to finish practice and I'm grateful for that time. Its been a pretty good Autumn so far, hoping for a rainless next 6 weeks or so.<br />
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Lemetellyou....I'm one proud mama when I see my boys out there on the field. They got a knack for sports and I don't mind one bit. They want to try football next fall. I'm pretty excited about that, but not for the gear that will go along with it ;)<br />
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I'm also a one proud mama of one very responsible 12 year old. </div>
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She got into the yearbook class this year and is taking at least two other advanced classes. She is still taking piano (though very very reluctantly) lessons and is one of the best forwards on her soccer team. </div>
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I spy with my little eye the most beautiful girl on a team. Can you? ;) </div>
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I was twelve when I came to the United States. Little things she does remind me of me and its a good thing as it helps me to keep things in perspective. </div>
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~ We are trying something new this September. The kids are not allowed to be on ANY screen during the week day. The truth is with all the activities and homework they have going on there is just NO time for it anyway. But, Fridays are what we call Fun Fridays when they are allowed to watch/use screens for as long as they want to as long as it doesn't interfere with dinner or outings, etc. </div>
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It's going great so far. We'll see if we can keep that going ;) </div>
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Better get back to my laundry...unlike the food in my fridge, it's exactly in the same place I saw it last! </div>
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-58096754622882773492015-09-05T12:36:00.005-07:002015-09-05T12:38:36.238-07:00ISTM (It Speaks To Me) 9/5/2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My sweet pea turned 9 months yesterday! I have always told my friends that this age up to the time my kids start to walk is the most physically draining for me. All of my babies are crawling by this age, but their speed is too slow for their growing brain so in order to keep up they prefer to be carried places and start wiggling out of your hands once you stop to take a break only to ask to be picked up again. SIGN. And don't even get me started on how teething turns the sweetest baby in the world into the sweetest baby in the world that won't sleep, drools like crazy, has all the symptoms of a cold and cries more than in all the previous 9 months! So needless to say, not much is getting done around here and the to do list only grows and I sign more often now as I look at the things around my house that cry for my attention. But. I've been mothering long enough to know that 'tis too shall pass' and am trying to focus that his smile only got cuter with the 6 more (!) teeth that are coming in. <br />
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<li>My mom sent me <a href="http://www.adme.ru/zhizn-semya/10-otkrytok-kotorye-pojmet-kazhdaya-mama-1036060/">this</a> link with sayings about motherhood that most everyone can identify with. </li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiCJeN8TCAIhii9rRbeovTDcRjN2VnQb4a89Nh5FJFnx3RfIudhy5AKotYN5kQuqEWBOstoGCR05EIqX8-7n9lhaS9X62B0bQMs1vtmsGEw7MTl3cmJIoLdLHzlmtYdnKmgm3RzEg4xuNGGDi5DGNU5ZobGMk_SjvrwiQ09QSRTEgnP-e3wxNMN-bA-=" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" class="borderedImage" src="http://files7.adme.ru/files/news/part_103/1036060/1318410-R3L8T8D-650-6.jpg" data-social="http://files7.adme.ru/files/news/part_103/1036060/1318410-R3L8T8D-650-6.jpg" height="166" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li>Our favorite family show is back. <a href="http://kinorai.net/2015/09/golos-4-sezon-1-vypusk/">The Voice of Russia </a>is in its 4th season now. I'm slowly getting over the fact that my favorite judge (love you, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pelageya">Pelageya</a>!) won't be there this season. I loved her so much that I want to name my daughter after her. True story. </li>
<li>Joy the Baker was right. These <a href="http://joythebaker.com/2015/08/how-to-make-the-best-blt-sandwich-pro-tips-from-a-professional/">BLTs</a> are like nothing you've made before. They were a huge hit with my teenage nephews that came to work at our house last week. </li>
<li>On a more serious note, the stories of the Syrian refugees are so so sad. With all the media coverage it is now impossible to be looking the other direction. As a granddaughter of refugees who fled their country for religious freedom, I can only pretend to imagine what it is like to leave your home in order to say <i>alive.</i> Ann says its best <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2015/09/dear-alyan-dear-world-with-a-refugee-crisis-dear-all-of-us-who-have-needed-to-be-welcomed-in/">here</a> and offers many many ways that the rest of the world can help. </li>
<li>I don't know if I can ever get over the beautiful beaches of Hawaii. Big Island has my heart. </li>
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Its better with extended family there! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnEPPuiuvrEhoCskJGOdMGd5VtDrzWuvFBTfPv8md3LAZPfM4tHgQSg-Qznt0_KJdMjHqLMRK5aZKPFHphIdSvtNXP8-pWXrJxrA6umF5dAAUU2LxOLrPwvSR6dqPmuSxDcyiaBOPlc8/s1600/DSC_0820_7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnEPPuiuvrEhoCskJGOdMGd5VtDrzWuvFBTfPv8md3LAZPfM4tHgQSg-Qznt0_KJdMjHqLMRK5aZKPFHphIdSvtNXP8-pWXrJxrA6umF5dAAUU2LxOLrPwvSR6dqPmuSxDcyiaBOPlc8/s640/DSC_0820_7.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
So, on an eve of mine going back to work in a few days, I get this brilliant idea to keep some articles, images, songs, quotes, recipes and/or other odd things I find interesting or inspiring or mind boggling or yummy here, in my blog, under the tag ISTM, which apparently stands for It Seems To Me for everyone else on the internet, but for my purposes it will stand for IT SPOKE/SPEAKS TO ME. You know, things you come across that you want to share with others because it spoke to you in some way? A lot of these will come from my blog feed that I regularly read. <br />
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My goal is post at least once a week, BUT...kids being back in school, my job and soccer season might, just might be in a way a bit. For what its worth, I present to you things that spoke to me this week: </div>
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<li>That family picture above from our very recent trip spoke to me. Gulp. Blessed beyond measure. </li>
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<li>Russian Mens Group Kvarto--love <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47AOKNsqTCI">this </a>song to include in movies and slideshows or just listen to the harmony. </li>
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<li><a href="http://vikalinka.com/2015/08/24/fingerling-potato-salad-with-green-goddess-dressing/">A yummy twist </a>on the classic Olivie salad via Vikalinka. Gonna try this ASAP. </li>
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<li>Found a new blog through The Art of Simple. Though I don't ever see our family become a zero waste one, <a href="http://www.zerowastehome.com/p/about.html">this family's lifestyle </a>is incredible, inspiring and surprisingly fashionable. </li>
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<li>Searching to live out life through kindness. Getting to a point where I succeed <i>most</i> of the time. This quote via <a href="http://www.mundanefaithfulness.com/home/2015/8/14/searching-for-kindness">Mundane Faithfulness</a> needs to be framed and read often: </li>
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<strong style="background-color: white; color: #1f1f1f; letter-spacing: 0.5px; line-height: 25.6000003814697px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Anger does not beget heart change; it begets shame. Yelling does not beget understanding; it begets hurt. Harsh words do not beget love; they beget humiliation. Intimidation does not beget kindness; it begets fear. Only kindness begets kindness; in fact, kindness begets love."</span></strong><strong style="background-color: white; color: #1f1f1f; font-family: 'Open Sans'; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: 0.5px; line-height: 25.6000003814697px;"> </strong></div>
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-86980252413315848382015-08-13T10:34:00.003-07:002015-08-13T10:42:00.744-07:00My Thrifted Summer Mantel <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YQ7YwG2bDNzz1oSXn-zSI86yZ2H8ha-cuVQpRuPurTWIhXWzmUHoSf_NdqQk-CdswuxJNCRiugsqKvfiHMq3b0SnitMF-eA4T2mqSwDvXpSxz-N_iBwlJnFS8YYQ5HVTZY7DyszZek0/s1600/IMG_3007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YQ7YwG2bDNzz1oSXn-zSI86yZ2H8ha-cuVQpRuPurTWIhXWzmUHoSf_NdqQk-CdswuxJNCRiugsqKvfiHMq3b0SnitMF-eA4T2mqSwDvXpSxz-N_iBwlJnFS8YYQ5HVTZY7DyszZek0/s400/IMG_3007.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Its not too late, is it? I finally like how my mantel is looking and need to document it for posterity ;).</div>
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Everything but the mirror, the tall black thing (what is that thing anyway?) and the letter A came from various thrift stores and I'm pretty happy about how the combo came together. </div>
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The little blue lamps were brand new; the blue design and the white shade is what attracted me to them. The only challenge is how to hide the chords. I've looked at a few tutorials...maybe someday. </div>
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The Pottery Barn shell vase I found for a few bucks at Goodwill. Right next to it sat a large version</div>
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of it and I snatched that one too. I absolutely love the Statue of Liberty tile that I found. Its proper to put it on my mantel because obviously!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqVd7rJNBbc4OulN923RnVvOdALQZfb90RO7ZosR6u_0khoOp5LSePOUqzceKRJ90nNfx24nljm9C5DuoHNU2POEI-P6v8McZRlWVpl5iUkd59Ai4ZMGngGP1tEcitIgpaZffPsq_uXQ/s1600/IMG_3005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqVd7rJNBbc4OulN923RnVvOdALQZfb90RO7ZosR6u_0khoOp5LSePOUqzceKRJ90nNfx24nljm9C5DuoHNU2POEI-P6v8McZRlWVpl5iUkd59Ai4ZMGngGP1tEcitIgpaZffPsq_uXQ/s640/IMG_3005.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Decorating a mantel is challenging for me. Its such a big focus area in our living room and I don't want to hate it everytime I look at it (and I look at a lot since one of the couches is right across from it). I think what's missing is a succulent, but other than that I think its good to stay for a while. But then, Fall is around the corner...<br />
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Ending this post with a picture of this beauty that I picked up at Salvation Army. I wasn't sure it would fit into our living room and thought to put it on the deck. But the more I look at it the more I like it here. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPCpQBtU2unkPozjQxuFf8eykQWOD5bPQYEDzjRt2wglrEWMgRPh4dNKijDVWoQQRICTkVLCAxYmkyNTYF20uYNdbX-OF-T3M7CMVkQ3Yvp2zHDh5su6yHu79oERRyu9h_r_F2CIcNdpQ/s1600/IMG_3010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPCpQBtU2unkPozjQxuFf8eykQWOD5bPQYEDzjRt2wglrEWMgRPh4dNKijDVWoQQRICTkVLCAxYmkyNTYF20uYNdbX-OF-T3M7CMVkQ3Yvp2zHDh5su6yHu79oERRyu9h_r_F2CIcNdpQ/s400/IMG_3010.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
Plus, I did a little bit of research on it and found this:<br />
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Note the price! Ahem....</div>
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Just like the chair on sale at One Kings Lane, mine is a repro. But, I got mine for $7.50! The chair didn't have a price on it so when I took it to the register, the guy told me its $15 on a half price day. </div>
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Anyway, it will stay next to my mantel for now. Close to its thrifted friends. </div>
<br />Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-65567382850210982142015-07-28T09:37:00.001-07:002015-08-05T19:33:59.044-07:00Summer Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0oa63_-QKGQDaCMK1bAszI0KHTrR-AOFu9dZsUPN5Wz5o4N70CElR-KhUdAkxpiHrPV04HDLUy3olky-6MsC05ykosD32fv4XApL-IjqzkVsjvXlVC8gtMY8089BiOkupT3bgMOyPCNg/s1600/IMG_2498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0oa63_-QKGQDaCMK1bAszI0KHTrR-AOFu9dZsUPN5Wz5o4N70CElR-KhUdAkxpiHrPV04HDLUy3olky-6MsC05ykosD32fv4XApL-IjqzkVsjvXlVC8gtMY8089BiOkupT3bgMOyPCNg/s400/IMG_2498.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Some people have Facebook and Instagram, I have this blog to post some pics of my kiddos and things we've been up to. If I don't, pictures get lost in the digital sea of some program on my computer (still haven't quite mastered iCloud and its friends) and I forget the little moments that made my heart still or/and made me laugh. I can't believe it's August and that summer is more than halfway over. Wait, what? </div>
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June and early July was filled with various things. June began with Peter and the boys prepping for their backpacking trip. It was supposed to happen on Nick's b-day, but impending camping trip and super busy schedule for my husband had to have it postponed. If I had any idea how expensive this activity will turn out to be...gulp... I would have suggested a camping getaway since we have everything ready for that. The boys are super excited though and the backpacks have <strike>taken half of my living room </strike> been packed and are ready for an adventure! <br />
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First, this guy's b-day happened. Nicolas is our oldest son and is so very much like his daddy. Its funny, but when I was pregnant with him, I remember thinking how I would really love him to look like his father. As I held him close during the first minutes of life, I realized that my wish was granted! Not only does he look like him, but he inherited his temperament and handyman skills. He loves working with tools--I'm pretty sure he was using a hammer successfully by age 2.<br />
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He enjoys doing any time of physical tasks and is the first one outside working side by side with his dad. <br />
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He loves to think through how things work and is that kid in the family that loves to stop and smell the flowers ;) He's kind and funny and loves being the oldest brother--sometimes a little too much.<br />
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He likes school and is a good reader. He loves soccer and running long distance. What I, perhaps love most about this guy, is that he is content with what he has and doesn't have many wants. He has the hardest time coming up with wish lists and doesn't ask for anything (besides junk food. sign.) at the store. Love, love, love this boy of mine! Happy 9th, sweet kid!</div>
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For his b-day, a few of his cousins slept over and then my sister and I took the kids to John's Incredible Pizza (probably won't be returning there for a celebration--maybe I'll elaborate why some other time). Came home and had the ice cream cake from DQ--per his request ;) </div>
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Then summer officially began for us. We were just doing what we felt like--super glad I didn't plan a ton of structured activities. <br />
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~Love these pics of kids and my colleague's dogs. We met up at a local park and they got to hang out with them. Danger and Ghost are their names--the kids were all over these guys!<br />
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Tim made this hat for Peter for Father's Day. Love that it is in a shape of a crown ;). We treated our daddy to his favorite breakfast and showered him with a few small gifts. <br />
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This picture cracks me up. I asked the kids to kiss him right before they took off for church and this was the result. I'm pretty sure Phillip, the little one in the plaid shirt, is kissing his leg. And Tim? The guy that looks like he's about to bite his brother's shoulder? Clearly because he couldn't reach his dad's cheek in time. Smile every time I look at it :) </div>
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This little baby is the cutest babe ever. Even if I say so myself!!! He's the most chill baby in the world, loves people, such an eater and is absolutely obsessed with our coffee cups. Mama drinks too much coffee, maybe? </div>
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Other kids of mine, however, sometime pleasantly surprise me on busy days and choose a whole carrot for their snack. Whatever! </div>
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Or more predictably, an ice cream sandwich. <br />
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I am learning that my summer days are easier if I take kids ANYWHERE outside of the house to play or roam. <br />
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This little guy's first time on the swing at JJ Jump turned into about 10 times--he took full advantage of no lines that day. </div>
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I just love this picture of Tim in his bright yellow helmet getting out there with the big kids who are much more experienced than he is. While my older two stood back, he got in there with the rest of the crowd and didn't care that they had to navigate the skate park around him. I just love his confidence. </div>
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Awesome big sister! I don't know what I would do without her. She's such a big help to me. Her main chore now consists of washing the dishes. Praise be-I've lived to see the day! Being 12 is sometimes hard and the sass... The sass! But. Her love for this little guy shines and she's so amazing in so many ways that it makes up for it ;)</div>
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Taking a cousin or a friend on our trips is a must according to my kids. </div>
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(It even helps when they are doing chores) </div>
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Sometime, getting out means I have to drive across or outside of town. Still worth it! <br />
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Love this picture of Nick with his hand on his little brother. He's always watching out for him. Love to observe this from afar. </div>
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The kids did enjoy quite a bit of boating this summer too. The baby and I haven't gone yet--not sure that he is old enough for such activity! <br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">My mom and dad are such awesome grandparents. Even though they both work full time, they are always just a phone call away if we need any kind of help. Their house is always open to their grandkids whether for a weekend sleepover or a weekday play. I just can't thank them and God enough! Truly, truly blessed! </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">My older boys are really into fishing these days. Still learning but enjoying it a lot. This has led me to research the trout schedules and lakes that are within an hour away. </span><br />
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Fishing allows for some swimming afterwards. </div>
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While Philip often goes to my sister's for a playdate, this little guy gets to be tagged along to the fishing trips. His wiggly stage makes him not such easy fishing companion, but his sweet smile makes up for it ;) <br />
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And me? I was once asked (Hi <a href="http://chezwhat.net/">Heather!</a>) what I'm doing for myself these days? When we met up last, I just had Leo and I think I answered something like--escaping the house to my part-time job? I honestly never really thought about that question. Maybe because I really did consider being away from the house 5 hours a day--the ME time? I don't have many active hobbies right now mostly because I just don't have the time to commit to anything. I did Zumba for a few years before I got pregnant but haven't been able to get back into it. This pretty much sums up my sentiment about exercising these days: </div>
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These days (or past few years!) my R&R has mostly consisted of bedtime reading. And not books, sadly, because baby in our bed +light on doesn't mix. Sign. I read blogs and articles of various kinds and kind of get my mind of the mundane that way. Sometimes, I take on little decorating projects. Like collecting these plates for my nook wall. Most of these came from thrift stores. Many plates and $ later, I think I nailed down this as my final selection. Maybe. You like? </div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Now, if I can only get some ME time so that I could hang these up! </span><br />
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Hope YOU are enjoying your summer as well!</div>
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<br />Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-91030199830323522482015-06-10T22:15:00.003-07:002015-06-10T22:17:54.216-07:00Day One of Summer--Westmoreland Outing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So we started the summer off a bit rough. Running on about 5 hours of interrupted sleep and caffeine, I hurried our morning which was filled with lunch packing and a baby's nap too short to be productive. This was then followed by trouble installing an infant base and a garage door that refused to close when all of us were already in the car. After about 40 minutes of this, I was ready to call it a day and unload everyone back into the house. A little tinkering with the garage laser and help from my oldest boy (who gets his handyman abilities not from me), we were finally on our way to a pretty great park that I just love. <a href="http://www.portlandoregon.gov/parks/finder/index.cfm?action=ViewPark&ShowResults=yes&PropertyID=852">Westmoreland Park </a> has a nature-based play area and includes climbing structures and water and sand feature, plenty of shade and much more. Despite me packing too light of a lunch and a whiny pre-teen whose idea of summer involves grander adventures, the kids ended up having so much fun there that I was glad we didn't say home. Add to that a babe who slept through most of it and I say that our day turned out to be quite awesome. <br />
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This guy spent most of this time building and hanging out in this teepee.<br />
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The sand are is pretty great despite the main water feature currently being out of order. </div>
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Sporting his roller skates that he found at a thrift store for about $4. </div>
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We ended the trip with a quick stop at <a href="http://www.pdxsliders.com/">PDX Slider</a>s which is a food cart that was about 4 minutes of drive away that makes amazing little burgers. </div>
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Today was a great reminder that life with little ones is often filled with bad <i>moments</i> on <i>good</i> days. I have to keep reminding this to myself and not opt for curling up into a fetal position and hide when I am so tempted to. Even though I'm greatly outnumbered this summer (5:1 most of the day!), I'm determined to take each day as a gift even though at first it may seem as the opposite. </div>
Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-23843207833580406702015-06-10T01:05:00.004-07:002015-06-10T21:30:29.008-07:00Summer 2015 (Tentative) List<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today was last day of school for my kids before the summer break and it sounds like it was bitter sweet. My oldest boy said good bye to what he considers the "best teacher in the world" whose class was the last class she taught before retiring this year and my daughter announced that she misses 6th grade already. Mere 6 hours after they were dismissed for summer. I guess I am one of the lucky moms whose kids love going to school. Some would argue that they are little and school is all fun and games at this age. But still. Not having to drag them off the beds helps my mornings a lot and getting good feedback from teachers does too. <br />
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Now that summer is technically here, I thought I'd put together a quick list of things I want to accomplish/succeed/attempt at this summer. I've been mothering long enough to know that TRY is a very strong word when it comes to checklists and things to do and as much as I like to cross the lines off my list, I am no stranger to things that can go wrong with planned activities. However, having no structure, goals, plans, wishful thinking is not how I roll either. So...shaking off the dust of the teacher lingo, I'm going to call it a loose framework, a scope and (but not really a) sequence, a skeleton, a big picture of what things I hope to accomplish this summer:<br />
<ol>
<li> Stare as little as possible at a screen (this goes for both the kids and myself and we'll be the hardest to accomplish)</li>
<li> Spend mornings and evenings outdoor exploring and relaxing. </li>
<li> Be flexible yet consistent with my baby's routines because he is the boss and I would hate for him to boss us while tired and hungry. </li>
<li> Manage to do at least one of <a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2015/05/summer_events_guide_2015.html">these </a>weekly. </li>
<li> Make good, healthy but not time consuming meals from scratch.</li>
<li> Pack as many lunches to go as possible to save time and $ eating out. </li>
<li> Work at making my home a <a href="http://www.thenester.com/2015/06/ive-got-a-summer-home-how-you-can-have-one-too.html">summer</a> home. </li>
<li>Get to know each one of my kids a little bet more--more one on one time, even if for a few minutes. </li>
<li> Lose the rest of the baby weight (is 10 lbs more too much to ask?) </li>
<li> Continue the rubbing of feet and the sharing of hearts nightly. (Got this idea from <a href="http://www.mundanefaithfulness.com/">Kara </a>and it has changed the way I parent). </li>
<li> Get ideas for summer activities from <a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2015/05/22/10-summer-activities-to-do-with-your-kids">here </a>and <a href="http://redtri.com/portland/50-things-to-do-with-the-family-in-portland-this-summer/">here</a>. But also <a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2015/05/21/our-parenting-yess-and-nos">here</a>. </li>
<li>Try my absolute best not to act/look/speak/feel exhausted (Ha!)</li>
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Here is to a summer that is fun for both the parents and the kids! And I'm leaving you with this because Jen Hatmaker always manages to say it best:<br />
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āTwas the first week of summer and all through the land<br />
Not a Mom was still signing folders, not even a Dad.<br />
The backpacks were slung in the garage without care<br />
In hopes that some Clean Out Fairy soon would be there.<br />
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The children were nestled (super late) in their beds<br />
While visions of NO HOMEWORK danced in their heads.<br />
Mama in her yoga pants and I in my jorts (shorts?)<br />
Are scheduling summer playdates, vacations, and sports.<br />
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When out in the playroom there arose such a clatter<br />
We yelled (from the couch) to see what was the matter.<br />
The children were arguing, restless, and I was floored<br />
To hear the young cherubs declare: IāM BORED.</div>
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āWell hail no,ā said Mama, ābored kids get chores.<br />
You can clean out your closets and baskets and drawers.ā<br />
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?<br />
A bunch of Bored Kids who ran the heck out of here.<br />
<br />
Now Gavin! Now Sydney! Now Caleb and Ben!<br />
On Remy! On all the kids till the neighborhood ends!<br />
To the park, to the courts, to the pool and the mall!<br />
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!</div>
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~<a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2015/05/22/10-summer-activities-to-do-with-your-kids">Jen Hatmaker </a>(Love, love, love her)</div>
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<br />Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-7910009904579216712015-02-06T17:20:00.001-08:002015-02-06T17:22:04.485-08:00Russian Reggae<div>
I first heard this song on the Russian Voice. I loved the beat and the melody and was intrigued by the lyrics. I listened to it several times before I was able to piece together the meaning it tries to convey. The anti-war sentiment it carries is embedded in every line though it doesn't appear obvious at first. This song was written several years before the Ukrainian conflict broke out with Russia and is sung in Russian by a Ukrainian group. Of course, the meaning of the lyrics is universal. </div>
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Speaking of the meaning, the majority of the audience in this clip are teenagers--looking at their faces, it's hard not to conclude that they are pretty distant from understanding what the song is about but are clearly excited to be this close to the artists. </div>
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-17956113888134649242015-01-02T12:03:00.002-08:002015-01-02T16:54:39.343-08:00These Days...<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hi there. Not sure if anyone checks my page anymore, but I thought I would document some things that I/we have been doing these days.</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Find us caring for another newborn. And what grace it has been to wake up next to this little face. Leo David was born December 4th and the </span><span style="background-color: yellow; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">fam</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> has been thoroughly enjoying him. Whether asleep or awake-- watching, holding, kissing, feeding all have been just a joy.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9gazErViy50w2GfIn0S6iRMOZtfK6fbRAwmbosFfuFJWt0PKlExr9-nqmf1gmUrAC-TLLfVQTgRPv8oppT2JzlAz1AjCSnXnuAhn2CXqF25g_pk6lZCUKmawHXYihBRD_oxtgza1Ywo/s640/blogger-image--1975079575.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="417px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/9G8ZHxBV9TWq6s3Glg-QqgHcw5gT9y05GzHjMyYHJvq-P2a3ynzSWGNGefox-dtmlHzJPIrCRcgOJD-XxunPV5D43D0jp0WTT_XiOZgjdJC_Z_m7XX8STF-R-vVM32S69A" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="624px;"></span></a></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac38-0b2d-ee4a-b696100b46ec"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="417px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/SaXkvg1UDBPcYLp55QDjV6RGPQM7L8qBsX4HwOGy12w13kAGl3JPGGU5Eyl_T8aMZesEMMmYPEx8UIBW691zPSGGQN4d-qEMQQsNSPdBFGf6RKo09_SxQ5qXU_1VGVpbxg" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="624px;"></span></span><br>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am especially thankful for my family and friends. We have been loved by both sides so much. My mom took off a week from work so I could rest. Others have brought in their congrats in various forms--visitors, flowers and treats have been abundant!</span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac39-d166-1929-b193d414b6e1"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="480px;" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/NAs-mN93eFJX6LC2_wYGXdwUUCd9sK1rauzXviQYHKAhY-kNBqe95aYPd0k1gnepbBhzw646OhNzEpUmFIWhMp4zFcyCz0WJjUIlmXJlxsjqckz8byzo993mZxXSJn9VpQ" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="360px;"></span></span><br>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac39-ee90-8479-c69fb7802e84"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="480px;" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/i3X4P1K7DnabP28NgSjhFUL5AiGMb38mNfYKxQNQtTwgkYwBV7uol-m-uuRRF4lQJ9zRAXENScBDiYsEuLSnpOulruMvwjD2selduAKulcyqpd3by1zJjZyYTVR7deHr6A" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="360px;"></span></span><br>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3a-132b-8acf-252c2870602a"></span><br>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leo is a big boy. He was born weighing 9 lbs 6 oz and three weeks later pushing 11 lbs--currently wearing 3 month clothing!</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These days find me at home a LOT. We went out a couple of times but he did not really enjoy the ride that much. I am also waiting to heal a bit more before I venture out with him by myself. So I have probably left the house about 5 times the last four weeks, which is fine, really. Sometimes, though I find myself really wanting to join my family in Holiday festivities and lights viewing and watching Abby play indoor soccer, but understand that it is better for me to be home for now. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I'm also reading a lot of</span><a href="http://mundanefaithfulness.com/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mundane Faithfulness. </span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have recently discovered Kara and find myself thinking, crying and prayer for a complete stranger. Her blog blesses and convicts me, oh so much and I covet the amount of grace she is able to project being so very ill. </span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These days I'm craving lots of things that are not very good for me. I made this</span><a href="http://www.mountainmamacooks.com/2014/12/espresso-brown-butter-banana-bundt-cake/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Espresso Brown Butter </span><span style="background-color: yellow; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bundt</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">cake 3-4 times in the last couple of weeks. And because addiction runs in the family, one slice just does not suffice. Oh glorious, glorious days of wheat-free lifestyle, where art thou? Looking at my closet filled with a whole lot of things that are too small for me, I know you shall, no must return! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On the kid front, I have been busy policing all things iPhone, sugar, homework and chores related. I get weary and annoyed at Clash of Clans and its friends and think of times prior to </span><span style="background-color: yellow; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">iPhones</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> when my kids got very very little screen time and wonder what WERE they busy doing then? I confess, its really hard to compete with the electronic world during winter time, here in Oregon. Sure, there are plenty of places to visit, but after school and on some weekends its just plain impossible for us get to those places. On days such as these when we have exhausted things they usually play with, I welcome a little quiet time when they get to use electronics. </span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some days though they are a little more productive with their screen time than others when they create pictures like these to have me discover them and crack up: </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="533px;" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/exFMy1HBvhz_HRh3vfy9arIIl28ZUNzdGfRr3ucSO9tOrHEri-RuRKuz523P3leqb3Vye-21V-wTJMjJ_hI7gu3nCXxrDLQiM9DGTALMXD2FO040W410ualL1AyPUaHt0w" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="397px;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The day is split into moments when the kids are loving on each other one minute and quarreling with each other next. Turning from sugar to spice only takes a few seconds, a few not so careful words or moves, some misunderstanding, or lack of protein. Kind of like us, the adults. </span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3a-de27-b32e-d0e42894594a"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="427px;" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/l59UulmoeL9Aze18vVI2WAJ6z3ktdAbxguRterbphzQcqoS1ttiFNXH4zuWTWiYQbfAtHysQYl7B71Kdu23SBhd2ML3r-DrQjk-hhhfrajj2axHj1n8qDi1CETOLrsudPA" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="283px;"></span></span></li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3b-0e4d-1ef7-65f408561649"><img height="283px;" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/KP_9kkkcCFPLkyyJXnvBJiPRr914BW2J2uEQMl527cQNYYkhDbNmpR9werUfpthQdialu2IIACgA57ATVfDK5ihrz3SyZCm-Z5y_wsv7vRgmYkK7XHjwQp_pUneNlTJpwQ" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="427px;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3b-48ad-d4c3-cae3d2105515"><img height="283px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/26TARUNqyKcbxM5KjMakC4rVPMH_hKAAQYk9BgIyjESm4CEI9hW1GG-wDa66ZYrhIbjzPVnWTPRyMnmAHndMygVUu0SwWNANWe6EY4nBMkTPy2DK1m5Xc579hy_4QbEptQ" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="427px;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3b-7726-fbc7-9bf43f09a715"><img height="283px;" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/54JoVuOqokSL_wj-rzSFIk8yVj0UEm_4lv5H6iNgfwNxNCx8yd8mES9rSWHuxUVUbmDoNV-3fmvoa0BBAudJdW-3vtd-9TyEy8a8o-mBC_LAFhn3LvPUVrkKpRY1e-h0xw" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="427px;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3b-aa85-24c3-0594af3354b0"><img height="283px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/LKnv8IgP5pi7AiSsgpTLoR0mKST-pxroe3y-N_Bi1wBSCHIWPV11-NmaItCOHHZMDVk76QDK7yEXPBKgtd3G90NUSjSfrx1xV3c1PSVcraFn_MLujqgUUvKqe9q_aJ4okw" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="427px;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3b-db7a-3875-e0a887c76577"><img height="283px;" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/vhsvg0ARl3F59Nnrs3SOLQVtZofDF_bSZD6SeI_OrxGgtivCIAzYmsCsBar_NmE95Cszh5j-5Tib3C3lIJJd6egitWhC6kDpJqFVZgPABA9yw1oiZG9_kHtZDSDMrbONWA" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="427px;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;">We spent Christmas Eve at home with my side of the family coming over. I made</span><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/530580399824330776/" style="line-height: 1.15; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">this</span></a><span style="line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;">,</span><a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ree-drummond/perfect-pot-roast-recipe.html" style="line-height: 1.15; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"> this </span></a><span style="color: #1155cc; line-height: 1.15; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;">and</span><a href="http://natashaskitchen.com/2014/10/27/chicken-and-mushrooms-in-a-creamy-herb-sauce/" style="line-height: 1.15; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">this</span></a><span style="line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;"> and mashed potatoes; they brought everything else. The kids got a few gifts, the adults indulged in good food and conversation.</span></span></li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span><span id="docs-internal-guid-a2c65fc0-ac3d-5e52-21d7-836adb3a995e"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="427px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/28xCARTeNKw0GSR3Q9X671fhkXS921Gep_kcrrPM1EFPaTIUr92zscnObDj5PZBpOEu_4muBnWpWQLYy9qj3n72HGnu0iKTa9KBnttsgNUy_7xPYTnJ3fQo7AlWrC2bzaw" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="283px;"></span></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br></span></span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am looking forward to 2015! Being home for most of it is such a treat. I feel so very blessed in so many ways--my goal for 2015 is to remember that and give thanks to the One responsible for it all! </span></li>
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-19623206811052123412013-08-18T21:07:00.000-07:002013-08-19T00:05:59.931-07:0010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_PVJ-xOwO583I49q4oC4B1e90Y0hFwnbt584pTrLU9ObinNBGCBsMZL4bCtqLE7HVrlvXQsRS8jQj1euKLgnfs13nCOF4TeQH1xA2c10s5sy-3IAYXKnNGvNghp5X_lS198hRQKeKiW4/s1600/DSC_0727_2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_PVJ-xOwO583I49q4oC4B1e90Y0hFwnbt584pTrLU9ObinNBGCBsMZL4bCtqLE7HVrlvXQsRS8jQj1euKLgnfs13nCOF4TeQH1xA2c10s5sy-3IAYXKnNGvNghp5X_lS198hRQKeKiW4/s640/DSC_0727_2.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ct-Uwl9QtSblL4D1_Kf_bm5AR9e5njF8NcTEnqqsD4HaVSBFI4_Bs4VpuYEBJWvc2DCaGgPPN5ia6ryefHm0ZeKKaPn_6dSorbuwxYXRWowdTt0tonNhFB3ZslcoImx6WQf4n8WPQhA/s1600/DSC_0678_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ct-Uwl9QtSblL4D1_Kf_bm5AR9e5njF8NcTEnqqsD4HaVSBFI4_Bs4VpuYEBJWvc2DCaGgPPN5ia6ryefHm0ZeKKaPn_6dSorbuwxYXRWowdTt0tonNhFB3ZslcoImx6WQf4n8WPQhA/s1600/DSC_0678_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>So she turned big 10 a couple of days ago. I can hardly believe that a decade had passed since I became a mom. I vividly remember her birth, the first few weeks that followed it, how crazy I was about her and how our lives changed for the better with her entrance into this world. I remember being determined to breastfeed her to the point of stressing out that I won't be able to which in turn did cause my milk supply to decrease and I wasn't able to... How I cried when I made her first bottle of formula and how happy and content she was when I finally gave her enough to eat.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGa1p5bxFZ2wGsUD1Gfd3KQ7ecFpR4860sfbfo96Xc5CfP-di71LCkfoVDKPzcvIVNjyW1ucK5GdRaP8s21BqYrq2w3E3z5fiQwF86mahcTUAeDew3xND4wB4pn7OXwxxh_WEU54stzzU/s1600/Me+and+abs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGa1p5bxFZ2wGsUD1Gfd3KQ7ecFpR4860sfbfo96Xc5CfP-di71LCkfoVDKPzcvIVNjyW1ucK5GdRaP8s21BqYrq2w3E3z5fiQwF86mahcTUAeDew3xND4wB4pn7OXwxxh_WEU54stzzU/s320/Me+and+abs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div>I remember her being an early walker and talker and oh such a quick learner. She was barely 3 when she learned to write her name, scribbling ABBY to prove to the pediatrician that her proud mother was not exaggerating. She entered kindergarten being ready for 1st grade while knowing about 5 words in English and in two months we couldn't get her to stop speaking English which she wanted to do at all times. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOMSMPakPqQXiHQf8h3AmGvNvNv-Nn3EIOHqEyRDz8piIRg71CRXNoXp7llOLBqZvFzJxOt25DX2UyaJXvfNqaEuivol-WiSB4YUqc0xelBhjiu8yZHoA9Qp4djt9rz9BEHoh3hZXkYw/s1600/abby+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOMSMPakPqQXiHQf8h3AmGvNvNv-Nn3EIOHqEyRDz8piIRg71CRXNoXp7llOLBqZvFzJxOt25DX2UyaJXvfNqaEuivol-WiSB4YUqc0xelBhjiu8yZHoA9Qp4djt9rz9BEHoh3hZXkYw/s320/abby+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>As ambitious first time parents, she was our guinea pig. I was smack in the middle of my teacher program when I had her and she had to endure a mother who was also a student and worked outside of home part time. She was our only child for (gasp!) whole three years. Which is a luxury for most kids with several siblings methinks. I got my current job as a part time teacher when she was only two and dedicated most of my days off to visit various kid places with her. Just her and I, sweet times. <br />
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</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fast forward several years, I find myself so very blessed to have her. She is a wonderful big sister--she adores all of her brothers, but especially the youngest. Most days, I don't know what I would do without her. She really is a second mom to him. Only she gets to do things with him I couldn't do :) </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTBcWEU66CpDi0qDGrspYhM3KjnlNq-RtB7BNcAClLUqHjNKSWNUkR__wb_aCvchmDLFhrLlHIFgcpt6EzBMGD-6LdUs4OdfzuAZEhHkRlNa9hRABuErnz9Jar4eAlfiYl2x4QLusimA/s1600/DSC_0639_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTBcWEU66CpDi0qDGrspYhM3KjnlNq-RtB7BNcAClLUqHjNKSWNUkR__wb_aCvchmDLFhrLlHIFgcpt6EzBMGD-6LdUs4OdfzuAZEhHkRlNa9hRABuErnz9Jar4eAlfiYl2x4QLusimA/s320/DSC_0639_1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPcMgb7TVPrOvv16EWIPyl7dRJyAl4OPEtpe5gVoZDnStPBa80dJMlfEJqqrC8voyBN6dJaQ9JqJrrX-7tHedtneQCnQ0fRsF-NJLxdaP52QM6N3b-ugtMBDXPIiK6WWkWpcNNBLNDYg/s1600/DSC_0630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPcMgb7TVPrOvv16EWIPyl7dRJyAl4OPEtpe5gVoZDnStPBa80dJMlfEJqqrC8voyBN6dJaQ9JqJrrX-7tHedtneQCnQ0fRsF-NJLxdaP52QM6N3b-ugtMBDXPIiK6WWkWpcNNBLNDYg/s320/DSC_0630.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She is creative, responsible, bright, independent, loves to cook, athletic, outgoing, and incredibly studious. She's got one funky clothing style. Most days I try not to fix it, but some days such as when she insists on wearing my extra long skirt out to public or picks high heel shoes at TJ Max, I cant help but interfere. Her favorite clothing store is currently Justice ;)</div>We celebrated her tenth over the course of several weeks. We went to the beach, camping, and attended a family reunion on the actual day of her birthday. This year, she chose money over having a birthday party which I gladly agreed to ;)<br />
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I bought my sister's camera (finally, a decent lense!) and brought it over to my sister in laws house one day. Abby's cousin, Kristina asked to see it and next thing I know Abby is dressed up in her other cousins' clothes and is on her way out for a photo shoot.<br />
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When I think of taking pics of my kids, I first let out a long silent sign. The truth is I would rather be scrubbing toilets than getting them ready for it. Finding outfits that match but not really, doing their hair, taking them to a place, making them <i>cooperate. </i>Talking about energy sucker... This happened on a whim and I loved how they turned out.<br />
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</div>Looove this one.<br />
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When we found them, her brother went to get her. Kristina snapped these two of them. Love.<br />
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Love you, Abs. Here is to many, many, many more years of beautiful life, baby girl!<br />
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-47272312085880469322013-04-14T13:26:00.000-07:002013-04-14T13:26:40.878-07:005<div style="text-align: center;">
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5 is how old my third child turned this past week. He is my power ranger/ninja turtle/knight/roman soldier/Captain America boy. Out of all my kids this one has been into dress up the longest. He's requested a different costume for several holidays in the row and this past birthday was no exception. I thought this power ranger costume suited him well. Thanks, sis! <br />
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We had a little celebration for him. My husband and I both took a day off and spent a few hours at John's Incredible Pizza with the rest of the kids (who happen to have a day off from school) and my mom. We decided a few years back that instead of giving our kids things for special occasions, we would give them an option of going to a place we usually don't go to. They usually choose the latter. <br />
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We invited some boys his age in the evening for some play time. He requested sushi and cake (no cupcakes! strange kid:). Because I forgot how easy it is to cater to kids, in addition, I ordered some Thai food, asked mom to make a couple salads, made salmon spread sandwiches, made another salad and mac and cheese. You can probably guess the two items that were actually eaten by his guests. Yes, that would be sushi and mac and cheese. Everything else was pretty much ignored and left to the few adults that were there. <br />
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He didn't want me to prepare any games, but instead couldn't wait to open his gifts and play with them. Patience is not this child's virtue (sign). The rest of the evening was filled with boyish noise and play; it was just like I wanted it to be. <br />
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This is my favorite picture of that day. Him in between his two grandfathers so tiny and happy looking. <br />
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I also love this picture with my beautiful mom. <br />
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Blessed are those who grow up being loved on by grandparents and aunts. Amen. </div>
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Oh how much I adore this child. He is our surprise baby. I still remember the morning I found out I was pregnant with him. His older brother was only a year old and barely walking. I was sleep deprived, tired and just came back to work after an extended leave. After the initial shock and "how am I going to do this" I remember blessing this child and feeling incredible love towards him. </div>
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I am so glad God gave him to us and cannot imagine our family without him. </div>
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He is bright, funny, real-which is a good thing most of the time. He's been writing his name since he was three years old and could have probably started kindergarten last year. </div>
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He is very articulate and does not keep his feelings and thoughts to himself. Again, we like that about him except when he gets mad or upset and starts speaking his mind. We sometimes give him heads up and say--"you are about to say something you might later regret...lets come down and then think about whether this is necessary to say." <span style="font-size: x-small;"> I probably need to hear this as often as he does. ;) </span></div>
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He is very active and loves all things sport related, but has never been a child that would storm the house and turn it upside down. He enjoys quiet play time just as much as he enjoys to run around. He has his likes and dislikes figured out. Once he makes a decision, it is hard to convince him otherwise. He is not easily swayed. "I'll have what they're having" is not his style. </div>
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He likes to be a good boy though. Sometimes, I sense a pleaser. Not sure how I feel about that--but hope it doesn't transfer to adulthood... </div>
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He is social and loves to make friends. He constantly asks me to invite boys over for play dates. </div>
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Just like most boys his age he loves potty humor, rough play, why did the chicken crossed the road, Legos, tickling and back rubs. No days is complete without a book and/or a Bible story. </div>
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Love you, big guy! Stay awesome! <br />
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<span id="goog_2138593901"></span><span id="goog_2138593902"></span><br />Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-655506692760380702013-02-14T21:44:00.003-08:002013-02-16T17:52:01.373-08:00A Little Update and He is 1!Hi! Long time no blog. Oh, how I missed this space! I have a great excuse to write a little update today. Our baby Phillip is 1 today! Forgive the cliche, but it really does seem like only yesterday I wrote <a href="http://russianteachermom.blogspot.com/2012/02/thoughts-on-brand-new-and-margaret.html">this </a>post about his grand entrance into this world. And today, 12 months have passed, flown by at a blink of an eye.<br />
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A lot has happened during that time. We had a fun filled summer tagging the baby along everywhere including camping (which should have been its own separate post mostly consisting of my whining of how that wasn't a great idea). All three oldest kids tried out Tae Kwon Do and loved it for 3 lessons. Ahem. I was persistent and dragged them to almost all remaining lessons, cuzzz we are no quitters! Besides, it was their idea in the first place!<br />
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Abby played volleyball for her school in the Fall and loved it. She has now narrowed down her sports of choice to volleyball and soccer which are both Fall sports. Not sure how we are going to do that. Nick and Tim are doing swimming right now and are really enjoying it though Nicolas is super excited about doing soccer this Spring(our local community center hosts the league in the Spring) and both of the older boys will be doing wrestling next Winter. Because they want to and their mama agrees that they need to ;) <br />
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We sponsored a family of newcomers for a month and a half that has an autistic child who melted my heart and turned it toward unending gratitude. I stayed home for 10 months and returned to my part time job. I've met my students and have been trying to win over their <strike>naughty</strike> adolescent hearts while at the same time teach two subjects that are new to me. I've watched my baby start to crawl, and was there to hear his first word (which was teetya--translated breast, by the way ;). Oh and I lost 25 pounds by ditching wheat last Oct. Must write about this sometime soon.<br />
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I am sure there was more but since I neglected to journal, I have probably forgotten it. Which is why I need to journal more. <br />
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Most of 2012 was spent getting to know the little guy. He is definitely popular around here. His older siblings adore him. His sister is his second mom who on many days does a better job of rocking him to sleep than I do. He is not yet walking but loves to explore. His crawling gets him everywhere he wishes to go. Climbing stairs are his favorite <i>mom is busy lets see if this gets her attention </i>activity. We think he knows about 5 words already. Most are names for the people closest to him. He loves to wake school kids up in the morning by crawling on them and giving them hugs. Even the crabbiest non-morning persons of them are tamed by this gesture. He is learning the animal sounds right now and can mimic dogs bark and cats mew good enough for a 1 year old. He loves to rough play. Whenever he sees his older brothers wrestle, he gets right in the middle of them and joins in the tackling. Most of all this boy loves to eat! At age one he eats everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) we eat and a lot of it. At Sweet Tomatoes once we joked that even though Phil was free, he ate more than Nick and Tim combined. He gives me no grief about my cooking for which I love him even more ;) <br />
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He is still being breastfed. The longest of all of my babies. In fact, he is the only one who outright refuses formula and cow's milk. Which is not worrisome to me but presented a problem to his nanny (my sister in-law) when I first went back to work. We still rock him to sleep and on most nights he ends up in our bed because he still nurses about three times a night. Yes, I have no spine. And no, we haven't really tried to fix that problem except for a time when I was sick and slept in a different room. The training lasted for 3 nights and the sleeping through the night thing lasted 3 nights as well...[sign]. <br />
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We had a little party celebrating Phillip turning one. We kept it small (by our standards) and had about 5 families over. I kept the decorations at a minimum too since it is against my religion to spend $500 on a decor for a 1 year old's birthday) I was happy with what I was able to get on a $40 budget. Here are some pics from his big day:<br />
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He didn't like the party hat. None of my kids did, don't know why I thought he would as this one hates<i> all </i>hats. <br />
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With his 3rd cousin. They are about 1 month apart. Adelia is walking though, little stinker! <br />
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With his auntie who is expecting her first baby this summer! Super excited about that event in our lives. </div>
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With his uncle....He has 9 uncles, this adores him the most. <br />
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I had a headache and went to bed early. I guess they had a party after the party. My sis took some cute pics of him. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEf91mb2fEAPTudEstN6YG7tC2EoVqnmlrWsF_qiLc1GpUJxBXOmtIZlWiuXn1T5m65YSeUWvXHbG3Zus_2HCPqTBOysGGcsD_ZK9F3ar7N45OPf5jvG5Bz585V5nvwi0AkYD7pDOc3LM/s1600/download-4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="499" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEf91mb2fEAPTudEstN6YG7tC2EoVqnmlrWsF_qiLc1GpUJxBXOmtIZlWiuXn1T5m65YSeUWvXHbG3Zus_2HCPqTBOysGGcsD_ZK9F3ar7N45OPf5jvG5Bz585V5nvwi0AkYD7pDOc3LM/s640/download-4.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2buaP9Orfr7uNnPeXs65_7y3IT8-UhNEA6tGAK-MMY3ZXoFtueC1Sg_z0KVKVhklS1oDB0w0-M6ujUB8usJfrGohWXkZe68n6DjII8CfuMDjEOhvCsNFsNi7jkR6jTDTeohwkGHBMN5c/s1600/download-5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="501" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2buaP9Orfr7uNnPeXs65_7y3IT8-UhNEA6tGAK-MMY3ZXoFtueC1Sg_z0KVKVhklS1oDB0w0-M6ujUB8usJfrGohWXkZe68n6DjII8CfuMDjEOhvCsNFsNi7jkR6jTDTeohwkGHBMN5c/s640/download-5.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigGE5ZkH1_Xs-nk2zTCSeS_PiwHZQbeO96wjqTRV_EN0l5kYPvkRon_-yGooV-9a25CLJ0AjSwMRgyU3XfZm2L61iz0wV8sIh30HAn3kUtAh9Tm1GBALxEBEHTc0IW-ONeIXvvGnn7ZZg/s1600/download-1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="499" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigGE5ZkH1_Xs-nk2zTCSeS_PiwHZQbeO96wjqTRV_EN0l5kYPvkRon_-yGooV-9a25CLJ0AjSwMRgyU3XfZm2L61iz0wV8sIh30HAn3kUtAh9Tm1GBALxEBEHTc0IW-ONeIXvvGnn7ZZg/s640/download-1.jpg" width="640" /></a>Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-71196488597218683872012-11-20T11:40:00.001-08:002012-11-20T11:40:21.575-08:00Paradox"The striking fact is that cultures that eat the reverse of the standard American diet ā low fat, high in complex carbohydrates, plant-based, and high in fiber ā have a lower incidence of cancer and coronary artery disease (CAD). What's even more sad is that countries whose populations can afford to eat the healthiest disease-preventing foods don't. The United States has spent more money on cancer research than any country in the world, yet the American diet contributes to the very diseases we are spending money to prevent." - Dr. SearsZhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-30109004664558899572012-11-16T22:22:00.002-08:002012-11-16T22:22:53.580-08:00Autumn 2012 Photos! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Before the air becomes super crisp and we will start seeing a snowflake or two.... I present you with our (now annual) Fall pictures. Thanks to my sister who directed my attention to the fact that the long stretch of nice weather was coming to an end THAT VERY DAY and we better run today or never! (I hope she meant this year). She is also very awesome in how she took these. I am very pleased. Thanks much, sis! </div>
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Oh...and I completely take into consideration that these pictures are of little interest to you. After all, these are pictures of <i>some blog lady's kids </i>who posts once a month or so and to whom you are completely unattached. Anyhow, I am posting these anyway. If you want to bother, you are welcome to! Warning: there are a ton here. I had a hard time choosing, OK? It is my blog after all ;) </div>
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<br />Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-60508354960878962522012-10-10T01:48:00.000-07:002012-10-10T01:52:48.393-07:00Drop Everything and Play<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of challenges of being a mom is knowing how to organize your day so that your priorities are kept straight. Here are just a couple examples of how I fail at this at times:</div>
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~Reading to my child is important to me, but after breakfast is served, making lunch and laundry is on my mind not books.<br />
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~Teaching my daughter to cook and bake is important to me but when I am in a hurry to get dinner on the table, kid less kitchen with minimal mess seems to satisfy.<br />
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~Getting down on the carpet and playing with my kids yields special memories but if the baby is napping I got a big to do list that excludes my sitting on the carpet <strike>like a slacker.</strike><br />
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This list can go on, but I will spare you. <br />
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As my time as a stay at home mom is coming to an end, I am starting to think about all the things I will be missing out on when I go back to work (even if part-time) since the schedule at the high school I work at changed from block to a seven period day this year. This means that I will be working<i> every</i> day opposed to every <i>other</i> day as in the years past.<br />
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What my new schedule means is that I will no longer be able to go to all the kid places like the OMSI, Children's Museum, the Zoo, etc, during the week day as have been the weekly routine ever since my oldest was 2. <br />
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You see, these places were my only escapes from the daily hassles of stuff I do that compete with my kids for my attention. <br />
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When I am out and about I get to Drop Everything and Play (DEAR, anyone?). I delight in watching them create, build, get messy, get wet, push themselves to various physical and intellectual limits. Often times, I get in there with them. I let them lead me and am careful to pull away when they want to do something independently. <br />
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I often say that when my children are older, I do not want them to only remember me at the kitchen sink/stove/counter (though the memory of my efforts to serve them good food will be appreciated), but I want to remembered as a mom who looked them in the eyes every time she spoke to them. I want to be remembered as a mom who turned her radio off in the car when her children wanted to tell her something they thought was important at that very moment. I want to be the mom who didn't cringe at the mess that various projects added to an already untidy house. I want to be remembered as a mom who valued interaction with them over that of a screen (darn Facebook). <br />
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I don't know if there are people out there with children all grown up who have no regrets about the kind of parents they were. I doubt it. However, I know for sure, that I'll have no regrets about not having a perfect house and picture worthy meals. I will not regret nor will I apologize for leaving my dishes in the sink overnight and not making all the beds in the house first thing in the morning. I will not regret spending minimal time at the gym/salon/shopping mall nor will I feel bad about buying a van at age 26. <br />
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What I am terrified to regret is that I was too busy to play. Too busy to engrave their big smiles and big bright eyes onto my heart.<br />
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Too busy to make them giggle more often and engage in various modes of silliness. <br />
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<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/allison-tate/mom-pictures-with-kids_b_1926073.html">Too busy to take pictures with them. </a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1F31gCfO6MAqaQjheLBe6sKQ-cIY2oUSVJqZ6e_XfVWAKDnoAdvA3DFOMnmtVWLnDrc3S1TpkAey88XWrOBcZdwOoXw3sSP63hAmTYGkE1fHjbN-g5Hk8s6-SaE7_7e8VgwAaRAMSNM/s1600/IMG_3629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1F31gCfO6MAqaQjheLBe6sKQ-cIY2oUSVJqZ6e_XfVWAKDnoAdvA3DFOMnmtVWLnDrc3S1TpkAey88XWrOBcZdwOoXw3sSP63hAmTYGkE1fHjbN-g5Hk8s6-SaE7_7e8VgwAaRAMSNM/s320/IMG_3629.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
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Too busy be more gentle, more kind, more patient, more graceful...<br />
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That is why I resolve to Drop Everything and Play. So help me God. <br />
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-56990236561404639672012-09-28T19:33:00.000-07:002012-09-29T00:23:13.988-07:00Why My Kids Refuse to Eat My Cooking (One Theory)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/aba0369l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/aba0369l.jpg" width="279" /></a></div>Today was day 3 of eat your mama's food or bust. Basically, it goes like this. I make something I consider to be utterly delicious and nutritious. They eat it or walk away hungry. No making their own <strike> </strike>meals, no snacks, no ifs, no buts, no won'ts. <br />
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Some are more vocal than others about our new rule but no doubt most of them are completely unhappy about it. The most recent meals (meals that have been made strictly following recipes cool people on food network and others wrote, mind you) that have been rejected were clam chowder, deer stroganoff, corn and cheese chowder, corn casserole, french toast, and banana bread. For the skeptics out there (you know who you are) all were husband approved and thoroughly enjoyed. <br />
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</div><div>I finally told my kids that I just simply will not cater to 6 different members of our family any more. At one point in the summer, I caught myself making three different breakfasts for my rascals. What?<br />
With every meal, certain things has to be picked out and other thing added; some like raisins and hate nuts, others hate raisins and like nuts; some like red sauce and hate white, others...you get the idea. My head just spinned writing that sentence. <br />
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That's it! I will make ONE dinner and all of us will eat it with a smile on their face and adoration of their mama. Ambitious of me? Not at all ;)<br />
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</div><div>Every since I completed my Master's degree, I found my self with time and energy to explore different recipes and food blogs. No only that, but I've been reading a lot on the benefits of the real food diet and intend to comply with it as best as I can. All of this meant that I no longer buy dinosour chicken nuggets (to my kids' horror) nor animal bi product nitrate filled beloved kielbasa from the Russian store to name a few but instead chose to broaden our food repertoire with yummy real food meals. However, my effort to keep our family healthy is making me anything but a cool mom. </div><div><br />
</div><div>The truth is, my kids have very immature palates. They have very limited number of foods they like. Their diet has not been resembling a glamorous rainbow. The most exotic thing they like is sushi. The ones with the fake crab inside. (Sign.) <br />
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I don't know at what age exactly I went wrong. When did I stop introducing colors to them and settled for various shades of white? As babies all of them had splendid appetites. They loved peas, various brown rice concoctions, squash, sweet potatoes, and every other vegetable Earth's Best offered. Wait a minute. Maybe that is the problem? Maybe my kids should have been fed food from a plate and not from a baby jar when they were babies? I was a young mom who was busy with school and work and thought her mission was complete if the jar was labeled Organic. Trying to fix this with my current baby. Will see how adventurous of an eater he will be when he grows up.</div><div><br />
</div><div>However, t<strike>o vindicate my self from my wrongdoing, </strike> I want to explore another reason why my kids are such boring eaters. After watching this clip, it all became clear to me: </div><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8r1CZTLk-Gk" width="420"></iframe><br />
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My kids are part of the narcissistic generation. A generation who rarely practices delayed gratification. They are a generation who is used to always having abundance of choice. Which in itself is completely awesome if it wasn't for that darn feeling of entitlement. <br />
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For too long, I have allowed my kids to feel entitled to the particular choice they feeeeeel like making. Oh you don't <i>like </i>dinner mama made? Go make yourself a sandwich. Oh, you don't want to have her as your teacher even though you haven't met her yet? Lets see if we can fix that. You don't feel like taking a nap even though you are only 2? Fine. <br />
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I mean I don't consider myself a liberal mom. Not allowing my daughter to quite Russian school after much begging is a perfect example how I have a spine and am able to stick to my guns. Ahem. <br />
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Honestly, every day I go to bed thinking how I should have said more Yes and fewer Nos. The number of times my kids force me to make that decision is incredible. I still believe in the power of choosing battles. Its just, somehow, the battle to get my family to all eat the same meal every time was put on a back burner. <br />
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I mean, I realize they are individuals who have difference preferences. But <br />
my husband and I were also individuals growing up but no one conferenced with us about our preference of dinner. We were simply fed dinner that our parents were able to provide to us. Same with millions of children around the world. If they get dinner. <br />
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All in all, I intend to continue <strike>torturing </strike> working on diversifying my kids' palates as long as my sleep deprived flesh will allow me. Wish me luck. I need it. <br />
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Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4248210988674150591.post-67370706192161279992012-08-09T23:44:00.000-07:002015-02-21T12:10:54.352-08:00Born in the USSR 7, 14, 21, and 28UP!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Off and on this year I have been checking to see if one of my favorites documentaries of all times <i>Born in the USSR</i>, produced the fourth segment, 28UP. For those of you who are not familiar with this film, it is a film about the life of several kids (now 28!) who began filming when they were 7 years of age. The kids were asked questions about God, politics, life, future, etc. They were then filmed every 7 years at 14, 21, and most currently 28. Their current life events filmed, some of the questions revisited, their dreams at certain ages compared to their reality now. Every film combines segments from previous film(s). For a long time, these films were not readily available to view online (something to do with copyright). <br />
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I was first introduced to this series about 7 years go when I received an invitation to meet the director, Sergey Miroshnechenko and see 21 Up at Lewis and Clark. I fell in love with the kids and their candid answers. I told everyone I knew about the film. I was able to find 21Up online and posted it on my blog. However, the film was broken into 3 parts and soon part 3 became unavailable. <br />
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Anyway, the film is very well made. For some reason, all four are now available and I present them to you here. You're welcome. <br />
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28 Up Part 1<br />
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28 Up Part 2</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/6nArEVUd318/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6nArEVUd318?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
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21 years of age (part 1)<br />
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21 year of age (part 2)<br />
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When the kids turned 14.<br />
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Finally, the very first film when the kids were 7.<br />
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<br />Zhenyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02268875104259427494noreply@blogger.com6