tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29042731580690566422024-03-13T14:06:29.549-04:00My 30 ProjectNasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.comBlogger157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-1510491794527333442014-05-07T11:20:00.001-04:002014-05-07T11:20:37.594-04:001 week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A thank you note to my village. I wrote this to them, but I want to put it here so I have it for me. A record of this process.</div>
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<i><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Girls, this is me today.<br /> <br /> I should be 23 weeks. But I'm not. I'm 1 week postpartum and it shouldn't be.<br /> <br />
I remember how we all rallied around Debi when we lost Sydney. I say
"we" because that's what it felt like. Like "we" lost a baby.<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> <br />
I remember thinking, "I can't imagine what that feels like.." And I
honestly never thought I would. I didn't even know at that time if I'd
be blessed with the opportunity to mother another child. And having
never struggled with fertility as I know many others have..the thought
of child loss seemed foreign.<br /> <br /> But it not anymore. It's real and raw and sucks and makes me so fucking mad and sad and enraged.<br /> <br /> But I have something other moms in my shoes don't often have. An amazing astounding virtual village.<br /> <br />
And from the love the universe has provided me by way of all of you, by
so many of you reaching out, texting, calling, messaging, sending me
cards, gifts, reposting our story, reading the comments from your
friends who've never even met me, I am being put back together somehow.
Like Humpty Dumpty. All the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't
help him, but my village both local and virtual can do it. I'll still
have the cracks that will show, but I know I'll be whole again
eventually.<br /> <br /> So please consider this my "thank you note" to all
of you. I'm sure Miss Manners would not approve, but...well frankly she
can kiss my ass. There is no expression of gratitude large enough to
explain how grateful I am for the love and support I've been shown. <br /> <br /> Thank you so very much,<br /> Nasrene</span></span></span></i></div>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">And to the "strangers" who read this, and commented, or messaged me, or shared their story, or commented on someone else's page or asked a mutual friend to reach out to me to pass along a message, or a note...to all of those moms and dads who've been through something similar and felt stifled like they didn't have a voice, or couldn't have a voice, or shouldn't have a voice. To all of them, to Kia who lost Kallie while I was pregnant with Reece, to Kim and Brett who twin angels were also lost too early, to all of them, to everyone close to me or far from me who's shared a personal story or reached out and said, "I know EXACTLY how you feel. I've been there," thank you. I am not brave, I am not courageous, I just can't be quiet. I can't be silenced, I don't do quiet very well. I have to talk. I have to get it out. Cry it out. Scream it out. If not, I'll never be myself again. And if my talking helps you heal your heart just the tiniest shred, if our story helps a loved one "deal" with a grieving parent, if our heartache helps a NICU nurse or social worker have a sliver more empathy, then THAT validates Reece's existence.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">Thank you</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">Thank you </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">Thank you</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">Infinite thank yous. </span></span></span><i><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show"> </span></span></span> </i></div>
<br />Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-89972868683975828182014-05-05T18:31:00.000-04:002014-05-05T23:43:07.053-04:00yesterday i had a son<i>Deep breath.</i><br />
<br />
I've been absent from my blog for quite some time, and a lot of life has happened in between. In short, Sadira is now 6, I am now 32, and I have been dating my awesome guy, Christian, who Sadie affectionately calls "Chief."<br />
<br />
We are moving into a new home that Christian designed. We love it.<br />
<br />
We have two dogs now, one of which is insane, and one who is the world's most perfect dog. We forgive the crazy one, but love them both too.<br />
<br />
We found out in December that our little family would be growing and we would be welcoming a new baby into the world in late August/early September. We were ecstatic.<br />
<br />
We found out about a month ago that we were having a baby boy. We were ALL so thrilled, maybe Sadie the most, who apparently has been yearning specifically for a baby BROTHER for ages. I was thrilled at having a son. For Christian, who lost his oldest son three years ago, I was hoping that this was one step in helping to fill a tiny piece of his heart that has understandably been broken since his son passed three years ago.<br />
<br />
That is where the happy news ends.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
On Wednesday April 30th, 2014, at 7:30am, I gave birth to our absolutely beautiful and perfect son, Reece Christian, at 22 weeks and a few days gestation. Sadira was just waking up in her bedroom, and Christian was out of town for work. I had zero symptoms, and absolutely no inclination that anything was amiss that morning. In fact, the symptoms that we had so carefully been monitoring, the symptoms which had scared me half to death and landed me in the hospital twice a month earlier, the symptoms that had confined me to "modified bedrest" for the previous two weeks had been greatly subsiding. I thought we were doing so well. I was feeling confident and healthy, and never thought for a single moment that that Wednesday morning would be any different from the Wednesday before.<br />
<br />
In the moments that Reece was born it was just me and him, and for the 6 minutes he was alive and with us on this earth before departing for heaven the only thing he knew was my touch. He grew within me for 5 months, and in the 6 minutes he was alive on the outside I was all he ever knew. He lived in my body from the moment of conception, and he took his last independent breath while cradled in my hands. Let that weigh on you for a moment. It's heavy. I have. There was so much beauty and sacredness in those brief 6 minutes. I watched his whole existence before my very eyes, before the sound of the paramedics running up my stairs broke me from my new birth haze.<br />
<br />
I was pregnant with Reece during what was arguably one of the most brutal winters I've ever experienced in my 32 years. The day he was born it was pouring. So much so that there was flash flooding all up and down the eastern seaboard, and none worse than in Pensacola where his father was working for a few weeks.<br />
<br />
If this were a work of fiction, we would call that <i>ominous foreshadowing. </i>I wish this were fiction. But it is not. <br />
<br />
I want to write Reece's birth story properly. I want to give the details, and describe some of the unexplainable complications that I was experiencing during my pregnancy. I want to do this because I want my family and friends to be able to experience him from my perspective, the only person who ever knew him, and in hopes that my experience could help someone going through something similar.<br />
<br />
But this is not the post where I will be doing that.<br />
<br />
I can only describe his birth right now by saying that it was stunningly beautiful and profound for me. So much so, that I don't want the negativeness of my grief right in this moment to ugly up the beauty of what we experienced. I want his birth story to describe the wonderful moments I got to experience as his mother for 5 short months, and 6 shorter minutes. I don't think I can do that properly right now. I have too much sadness at this present moment.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have thought so many things in the past six days. I started writing this post on Thursday, the day after Reece's birth, and now it's the following Monday and I'm still writing. There are so many feelings I've experienced, but I can narrow it down to three specific things surprisingly easily.<br />
<br />
Sadness<br />
Anger<br />
Love<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>First the Sadness.</i><br />
<br />
I am so sad. So so profoundly sad. Talk about the understatement of the year, right? But I am. It's an overwhelming sadness that comes in waves, sometimes paralyzing me from whatever I'm doing, and sometimes just causing me to space out for a second. <br />
<br />
In the hospital after Reece's birth a social worker came to talk to me. She was talking and talking and it just kind of sounded like the adults in a Charlie Brown movie, "womp womp womp wompwompwomp..." I tried to listen, really I did, but I was just numb to everything she was saying. Until she said, "is there anything else you think you may need help with?" and I said, "yes. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to my 6 year old daughter. Can you please provide me with some guidance?" I think on that day, at that point, when my my own emotions for myself were just SHOT, the only things that could make me FEEL was thinking about Sadira and Christian, and how devastatingly awful this would be for them in two very different ways. I dreaded that Christian was going down a familiar path, that I had failed at giving him the one thing he needed so badly, and I literally felt sick with worry at how I would tell Sadie that the brother she so desperately wanted had died. How do you tell a 6 year old her baby brother is dead? She WANTED HIM SO BADLY, AND SO DID WE, WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO US?!!?!?!?<br />
<br />
Just the night before, a mere 12 hours before Reece was born, Sadira had laid her head in my lap while we were watching TV and felt him kicking. How could this be?<br />
<br />
In the hospital they stock me up with pads and mesh underwear and all the "lovely" treats you get when you're post partum. But I am a post partum mother with no baby in my arms. This feels cruel.<br />
<br />
When I return home there are signs of the baby that will not be everywhere. The happy cards that friends had sent when we announced our pregnancy are still displayed in the dining room.<br />
<br />
The clothes that we had been given, or Sadira and I had picked out excitedly sit in a giant Tupperware box. I don't want to look at them. But I don't want to get rid of them. I ask my sister to put them in the basement for now.<br />
<br />
I remember the stroller that I obsessed over. That I asked for recommendations because I am admittedly a "stroller snob." I see it. I remember how when I got it Sadira tried it out and was so impressed with how easily it handled. "Wow Mommy, I bet my brother is really gonna love this...you did a good job!" she had approved.<br />
<br />
The only clothes I have to dress myself are maternity clothes. Some still with tags on them. All of my "regular clothes" have been moved to the new house. I am too small for my maternity clothes, yet don't quite feel comfortable in my "regular clothes." I don't even know how to dress myself.<br />
<br />
The balloon that we gave Sadira just three weeks prior when we told her the baby was a boy still floats at the ceiling. It's deflated like my belly, but still proudly declaring, "Baby Boy!" I can't look at it. But I can't get rid of it ether.<br />
<br />
And my body. What a strange vessel I am right now. When Sadira was born everyone commented on how quickly my belly went down. I thought this was so strange for a number of reasons. One, it's not a compliment I've ever heard before so didn't quite know how to respond. Two, I've never really had a ton of enviable physical traits. Don't get me wrong, I'm very confident in my own body and like the way I look, but I've never had someone say, "you're so lucky because of your stomach! I'm so jealous!" Weird. And three, it really WAS weird. For nine months I grew this belly that became bigger and rounder with each day...and then BOOM. In one day it was almost back to normal. The whole thing was just strange to me. This time it happened again. By Thursday there was almost no trace of the baby that grew within my belly. It was startling to me. I wanted it back. Bring me back my belly and the baby that should be in it still! How could it go away so quickly? It makes me feel like it never happened. Like being pregnant with Reece was just a dream.<br />
<br />
My breasts ache as my milk comes in. Mother Nature is a bitch, and although she made my baby come too soon, she is still sending my body all the signals that it needs to sustain a new life. My breasts are hot and engorged and ache and leak. I wrap them up tightly with sports bras and hope they go away, but in the same breath am grateful to have some sign that YES, I did have a baby. YES, I am a new mother. YES, my body would've taken care of Reece, even though it failed him in his gestation.<br />
<br />
At night I wake in the middle of the night. Wide awake. My internal clock telling me, "Wake up! Check the baby! Feed the baby!" But there is no baby there for me to check or feed.<br />
<br />
I have a recurring dream where I can see Reece and he's perfect. And it's this beautiful moment because I SEE him again, and that's amazing. But he's behind a thick pane of sound proof glass and I can't reach him. And he starts to cry. I can't hear him, but I can see him. His face red from screaming, his arms shaking and legs kicking, and I cannot get to him. I CANNOT GET TO HIM. I can't even hear him. I'm on the other side of the glass screaming for someone to help him, but no one can hear me. I wake up. There's that exquisite sadness again.<br />
<br />
I calm myself, it's just a dream. But then I remember, it's really not.<br />
<br />
<br />
*************************************************************<br />
<br />
<i>Second, the Anger.</i><br />
<br />
I'm so fucking pissed off. I'm mad. I'm angry. I want to scream and yell and throw things, and break things and curse and scream and yell some more.<br />
<br />
But I don't.<br />
<br />
Well, I do curse. It helps.<br />
<br />
I walk out of the labor and delivery unit on Wednesday, the day Reece was born. There are people getting off the elevator going to see the new babies in their family. Kristy my angel nurse had asked me if I wanted a wheelchair on the way out or if I wanted to walk. <i>I only want the goddamn wheelchair if I'm wheeling out of the hospital with my baby in my arms! My baby is en route to the fucking morgue and I'm walking out without him. THIS IS SO FUCKING UNFAIR!</i><br />
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I tell her no, I can walk. There's no sense in acting like I just delivered a baby, even though I did, when there is no baby to take home. <i> </i> <br />
<br />
I check my email and I see a BabyCenter email, "Your baby at 22 weeks!" <i>Fuck you, Babycenter, my baby at 22 weeks is dead. </i>I race to the website. There are two bubbles at the top that say "your child:" one for Sadira, and one for Reece. I click on Reece's link, which takes me to the page of details of what happens at 22 weeks. ALL OF THIS ISN'T HAPPENING ANYMORE BABYCENTER! I click "edit" and see all of the information for my pregnancy with Reece. Due Date: September 1, 2014. Gender: Boy. I hover the cursor over the link that says, "Remove from my account." I click it and instantly feel horrible. The option says, "Delete all information about this child and remove from Babycenter."<br />
<br />
I can't do it. To delete his information feels like I'm denying it happened. I can't deny him. He was my perfect son. I close the browser.<br />
<br />
I get a voicemail from a number I don't know. There are lots of them these days, but as I check this particular one, the voice is bright and cheery. "Hi Nasrene! It's Lynn your nurse case manager here at United Health! Just calling to check in on your pregnancy and see how you are doing. At your earliest convenience, please call me back at...." <i>Go to hell, Lynn. My baby is dead, I guess you didn't get the memo. Don't ever call me again. </i><br />
<br />
I feel badly. It's not Lynn's fault. She's just doing her job. She means well. I'll call her back next week.<br />
<br />
I see my grandmother, whom I love with every cell of my being, and she looks broken and fragile. She just keeps saying, "Nas, I think you need to talk to your doctor, there HAS to be a reason this happened. You need to know why this happened so you're prepared the next time, I mean, there HAS to be a reason." I tell her there is no reason, but she insists. I want to scream. <i>There is no fucking reason!! If there was one I'd be the first to know, but there is no reason, stop asking me for one!!! I don't know what to tell you!</i><br />
<br />
And then I feel horrible. She is grieving too. She was excited for this baby and happy for us. Genuinely. She is still grieving the loss of my grandfather. We all are. And then this happened. It's just too soon. Too much. Not fair.<br />
<br />
I see a young woman with two children in the parking lot of a grocery store. A little girl who is a little older than Sadie, and a little boy who is probably about two. She yells at the little boy who's toddling behind, "come the eff on!" He starts to cry and she snaps at the little girl to go get her brother. I am outraged that she speaks to her baby child like that, and then I'm outraged that she has these two children. <i>You god damn piece of TRASH, WHY do you get two healthy children and mine had to die?! WHY THE FUCK?? Why does this person get to have her kids and I can't??! </i><br />
<br />
I grab Sadie's hand and walk away. Everyone's life and situation is different. I don't know their struggle, and frankly I don't care. I can't compare my life and the things that have happened to someone else's blessing.<i> </i><br />
<br />
I get a Facebook notification that the cloth diapers I had ordered just a few days prior should be coming in a couple weeks. Sadira and I had picked the patterns and couldn't believe how small they would be on Reece's tiny hiney. <i>I don't want the goddamn diapers anymore. I have no use for them. Leave me the hell alone.</i><br />
<br />
But it's not true. I do want the diapers. I just also want the baby who was supposed to wear them. I don't respond.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i> </i>I get a few pieces of mail. It's a bill for one of my last ultrasounds, and a doctor's bill. I have a $3500 deductible to meet to pay for my obstetrical services, and then a 20% coinsurance after that. As of last week we were already up to $2100 worth of bills. My stay at the hospital after he was delivered hasn't even been submitted yet. <i>Fuck you Advanced Radiology! Fuck you Physicians Associates!! I will pay you if you give me my baby back! Why do I have to pay for obstetrical services when I don't even get the baby at the end? FUCK YOU!</i><br />
<br />
It is what it is. It's not their fault that Reece died. I am not the first mother to go through this, and I won't be the last. There aren't always happy endings. There aren't always perfect pregnancies.<br />
<br />
<br />
********************************************************************<br />
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<i>Third, the Love.</i><br />
<br />
I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to start this part, and asking The Lord for eloquence, because the amount of love that we've been shown since Reece's passing has been unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life, EVER.<br />
<i> </i><br />
The morning that everything was happening, I called my mother first. She came immediately and I remember her asking on the phone "how's the baby? Did he make it?" and I had to tell her no. Saying that one little word "no" felt impossible. Like my tongue was made of cement. Because I knew the ramifications of that realization. I knew the emotional roller coaster that would begin from saying that one single word.<br />
<br />
No mom, he didn't make it. Please come. I cried. Oh my God, Nas, oh my God. She sobbed. Oh my God, I'll be right there. And she was.<br />
<br />
I often make fun of my mother because she has difficulty taking off her nurse hat whenever someone in our family is in the hospital, or having some type of medical procedure. But that day she was my mother, and a grieving grandmother, not a nurse. It's what I needed. Someone to walk that path with me. There is nothing like a mother's love. I hope Reece felt that on April 30th just like I did from my own mother.<br />
<br />
<br />
Immediately after Reece was born and the paramedics arrived I called Kerri. I just said, "Ker, please come. I delivered the baby, please come," and within minutes which honestly felt like seconds, I saw her running up the stairs. I needed her to take care of Sadira. And she did. She took the day off and kept Sadie with Sean for me while I went to the hospital. Having a friend like Kerri in my life is like having another sister. I don't have to explain, I don't have to elaborate. She just knows and she just does.<br />
<br />
Over the course of the past five days Kerri has done so much for me, and Sadira, and Christian, that I can't even write it all out in one blog post. It would take days just to list it all out. From the daily check ins, to the dinners, to taking Sadie to dance or Sean's baseball game to keep her occupied and keep some sense of normalcy going for her. I don't know how Kerri is doing it. All the while, she's still taking care of me. She has been my right arm and my left arm, and my oxygen, and everything else you can possibly think of. I wouldn't have survived this half as well as I have without having her in my life. I am so so so grateful. There isn't a word to describe my appreciation. To me, she represents all of my friends who are rallying around me, praying for me, crying with me. She personifies all of them.<br />
<br />
<i>Thank you Ker. You've done absolutely everything I needed before I even knew I needed it. I am so blessed to have you in my life.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
I text my sister to please call, it's an emergency. She is in her clinicals for nursing school, but calls. I tell her the unthinkable news, and hear her begin to weep on the other end. My heart breaks. She has been wanting a nephew since the moment Sadira was born, and she loved him so intensely before he was born. I knew this was breaking her heart. She leaves her clinicals and is there in an hour. <br />
<br />
My sister is stoic in the face of an emergency. I know she is grieving, but the whole time her concern is me and my well being. She is going to be the best nurse one day. She gets what I need, does whatever I need, and anticipates my unspoken needs in a way only a sister can.<br />
<br />
I ask her to call my father and our younger sister. I don't have the heart to tell them. I know how hard that phone call is to make, and I appreciate that she was able to do that for me.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have several amazing groups of friends in my life, but one of them is a group of moms that I've been friends with since Sadira was born. I know I need to communicate what happened to them, not only because I know they need to know, but because I know that I need the love and support that they will provide. I decide to text Lindsey for a number of reasons. She's one of the gals I've known the longest in the group. Literally since we were pregnant with our '07 babies. And while we are very different, we are also very the same. She's also a doula and has been off and on studying to become a midwife, and along this process of being pregnant I've confided quite a bit in her about my symptoms and things I was experiencing. I feel like she has been a big part of Reece's life so it feels natural to reach out.<br />
<br />
I text her. <i>Linds, awful news. The baby was born very suddenly this morning. He didn't make it. I'm at the hospital, Christian is flying home. We are all heartbroken.</i><br />
<br />
She texts back immediately<i>. </i> <i>Nasrene. Oh no. No no no. I'm so sorry! I'm devastated for you. There are no words. Please tell me if there is anything I can do. Seriously I can be on a plane. </i><br />
<br />
I answer. <i>I feel like this isn't real. i delivered him. He was so tiny. I don't even know how to explain this emotion.</i><br />
<br />
She answers. <i>I'm so glad you were the one to hold him first. He was beautiful I bet. And listen to me: there is nothing you did wrong. You did everything right. You fought for him. This is not your fault.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i>I didn't want to talk to anyone. I couldn't bear to bring myself to even call my father. But the next thing I knew, I had typed the words, "Can I call?"<br />
<br />
And she said yes.<br />
<br />
And in that conversation she wept, and I wept, and she said lots of things that I needed to hear, and lots of things that I will hold in my heart. But one of the things she said that will forever resonate with me was, "don't forget that today is Reece's birthday." It's no secret that I am a lover of all things birthday. And that tiny reminder that this day should be a day of celebration was such a necessary thing to hear. It reminded me to find some joy in the day, some beauty. And for the rest of the day I sought to find beautiful things. From the kind way I was treated by everyone who cared for me, to the beauty in Reece's tiny hands and feet, with little tiny fingernails and toenails so perfectly formed, to genuine love I felt from everyone who knew me, to the sincere way the ambulance driver came in to talk to me when we got to the hospital to tell me, with tears in his eyes, that he and his wife had experienced something similar and that he would pray for me, to the gentle way my paramedic dressed me as we left for the hospital, like I was his child (even though he was probably younger than me) saying, "here we go mama, one foot in at a time," while he held my pants for me to step into, to the absolute beautiful moment when I first laid eyes on my son. There WAS so much beauty in Reece's birthday, and I didn't want to forget that. And I probably would've had Lindsey not reminded me.<br />
<br />
I asked her to tell the rest of the ladies what had happened. I knew she'd find the right words. We hung up and a few minutes later the Facebook notification came through on my phone that she had posted. Immediately all of the ladies, my friends, started sending their love. They were so concerned, so worried, so devastated. Crying with me from all over the country as I cried from my hospital bed. I could feel their concern and their devastation. I could feel that I wasn't alone and they were wrapping me in their arms from coast to coast. All of our babies are community babies, and they wept this loss as if Reece was a member of their own families, because in a way....he was.<br />
<br />
<br />
I get a call from the nurse's station. "Your cousin is here, can she come in?" I say yes, but have no idea who I'm saying yes to. I can't think of a cousin who is local who would know, and I know instantly it's a friend feigning a familial relationship just in case.<br />
<br />
In walks my friend Lauren. <br />
<br />
I am happy she is there. I hug her and she hugs me back and I sob on her shoulder. She is there when Father Gregory, the Catholic chaplain at the hospital shows up and offers a blessing and prayers for Reece. It was beautiful and deserving of it's own post, which I will do in the future. But I am so glad she was there for that. To be present as we welcomed Reece into heaven, with my mother and my sister.<br />
<br />
She offers help. To help with the dogs, to help with groceries, to help with anything. I love her for that. I love all of my friends for their love and offers of help. I need the help. I am sustaining on your love and your help. It's what's getting me through.<br />
<br />
<br />
As I was discharged my sister drove me home. I was struggling with how to inform everyone of what had happened. So many friends of mine were excited for this pregnancy. Sadira is loved communally by so many of our friends, I've always felt like I've shared my children with this larger village. And Reece was not exempt from that.<br />
<br />
I told my sister, "I feel like I need to post something to Facebook..." but I'm struggling because should this be a private thing? How can it be? What happens when I show to to work or school or anywhere and there's no bump and no baby? Do I just stop posting about being pregnant? I can't not say something. Had Reece survived I'd be shouting it from the rooftops.<br />
<br />
Why should this be any different?<br />
<br />
I asked my sister for a few minutes of stillness in the car. And as the rain poured outside I wrote an update.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Today
has been both beautiful and devastating. This morning at home at
7:30am, I delivered into my own hands our perfect baby boy, Reece
Christian. And just as peacefully and swiftly as he came into this
world, he left us. Born perfect, but too tiny, just too soon. We do not
know why The Lord allowed this to happen, but in the brief moments he
was here, he was peaceful and perfect. I am comforted knowing that he is
being well taken care of in heaven by Poppop. If you pray, please
pray for guidance and healing, as our minds are reeling and our hearts
are broken.</span> </i></div>
<br />
I hit post. I looked at my sister and said, "get ready." I knew my village would rally, I just didn't know in how great a way.<br />
<br />
<br />
Almost immediately the love and prayers started pouring in. Over 300 comments on that status alone of love and support. Messages. Texts. Posts on my wall.<br />
<br />
<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"My heart breaks for you Nasrene for my little bff Sadie and for the Chief. The Mirjohnston family is
with you as you grieve the loss of sweet baby Reece, though his time
here was but a moment, he will live forever in our hearts."</span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"I
have absolutely, positively no words at all. My heart is literally
crushed for you. I pray peace and comfort for you, Christian, &
Sadira. If you need me for anything, PLEASE don't hesitate to say so.
God bless you all."</span></span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"Still
struggling with this news, and knowing that I should have something
comforting to say, but I don't. My heart is crushed for you. <br /> <br /> I
realize, that sweet angel, is cherished beyond his time here. In that
brief miracle, he was surrounded by so much unending love. You have
loved him with all your heart and soul from the moment you knew you were
pregnant, through all the wiggles and kicks, and worries. He felt all
of that love. And the hidden blessing is, he knew his mamma was holding
him, and loving him, every moment of his beautiful life. You are an
amazing mother to both your babies.</span> "</span></span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"Can't
sleep...thinking about you, Christian, Sades and sweet Angel Baby
Reece. I'm shocked and heartbroken and pissed and sad and I just want
to scream, yell and cry. It's not fair. You shouldn't be living this
nightmare. I am just so sorry, Nas. I hate that you're going through
this and I wish there was more I could do. Praying for you all,
especially your beautiful baby boy."</span> </span></span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"</span></span></i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Hindus
have a belief that you are born on this earth merely to pay for your
Karma, as long as you have negativity you can not attain nirvana, you
will be reborn and suffer the cycle of birth and death. Your perfect
little boy had so little negativity that he was here but for minute and
now he is one with the cosmos. You gave birth to an almost perfect soul
and now he is a can shine on you, Sadira and Christian with all his
perfection. I know these words may not offer any comfort but you my
friend are strong and brave and you may never get over this but you will
use it to change the world, because from the years I have known you,
that is what you do."</span></i> </span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> </span> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
This is just a sampling, and let me tell you. I read EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. Multiple times. I read EVERY. SINGLE. MESSAGE. And I read EVERY. SINGLE. TEXT.<br />
<br />
At night when I cannot sleep because I'm a new mother again and new moms don't sleep I read them all. Over and over again. When I awake from my nightmare and my heart is racing because I can't comfort my baby, I let everyone's words comfort me. It's brings me peace, and allows me to rest.<br />
<br />
I will never be able to fully articulate how much everyone's messages of concern and love have helped me. I've been on the other side when friends have lost babies too soon. Friends like Debi, and Karen, and Kia who lost their babies TOO FUCKING SOON, and I didn't know WHAT to say, because words just seem like empty filler when you KNOW someone's heart is so very empty, but being on this side now I see things so very differently. It helps TREMENDOUSLY. I will never again NOT say something when I know someone is suffering. Because it's in the silence that you think people have forgotten.<br />
<br />
I have friends who check on me daily. Tassie, and Amanda, and Kerri, and Lindsey, and Bridget, and Erin, and Alix, and so on and so on...and they preface it by saying, "I hope I'm not bothering or being overbearing, but I'm just so concerned..." and my response is, "you are never being overbearing. You are uplifting me and keeping me afloat. It's the only way to get past it. The only way to know that yes, this really happened, and it's AWFUL, but it's okay. I have people that will pull us through this. And for that I am eternally grateful."<br />
<br />
I've had so many people reach out to me in confidence and share their similar stories, from miscarriages to stillbirths. People who have lost babies recently, and people who lost babies 37 years ago. They never forget. They assure me that I will never forget. They thank me for being vocal about this and not keeping it private. They say so many people hide away when this happens, and that somehow me being public about this journey is helping them. I don't quite understand that yet, but I'll take it. I am so sorry, so goddamn sorry that so many people I know have gone through similar situations. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. <br />
<br />
I've had friends, Karen and Heidi, who quickly mobilized to organize a fundraiser for the March of Dimes in Reece's honor. And several more who walked for him. Brenda, and Shannon, who joined teams, or added Reece to the team they were walking for. All over the country this past weekend so many people walking for premature babies, and Reece was included in those walks. It's amazing how much of an impact his brief life has made already. <br />
<br />
I've had friends that have just stopped by. From my baby sister Tessa, who just showed up on Thursday and loved on me, and Sadira and Christian, and made us smile in a way that only she can, to my friend Emanuelle who is in town from HAWAII visiting family and friends, and just showed up as a surprise with a bottle of wine and shared laughs and tears with Christian and I, to my friend Melissa who came over yesterday, bringing more love, and prayer requests, and saying just the things she knows I needed to hear.<br />
<br />
To my friend Shannon who sent the most beautiful keepsakes for me, and Sadie and Christian, to the flowers from Brandon and Ashleigh, and memorial plants from Courtney, Carla and Yolanda and Lisa and Erika, to the trash magazines, and chocolate and wine from Lindsey and Dawn and groceries from Steph, and dinner from Sherri, the flowers from Liss, Brandi, and Tracey, to the star that has been registered in his honor, and the bereavement books for me and for Sadira that arrived (and I don't even know who sent us these amazing gifts) and to my friends Amanda and Shantel who invited me out for dinner, and for
Amanda to find peace because I know she hurts so badly for me, just as
Melissa does, and Shannon does and Kerri does. It's hard for them because they love me so much and I know
they are among my friends who feel this loss more personally. As if it
was their own. While I hate that they are suffering so much for
something that happened in my life, I am overwhelmed by the fact that I
have these types of friendships in my life. It's like when they say
that twins can feel each other's pain, I just know that I have a select
few friends in my life some that I've mentioned and some that I've regretfully missed because my head is reeling, who feel what I feel more innately. And that's
just incredible.<br />
<br />
And then there is Christian who I can't even bring myself to write about right now because I feel like what we went through this week was just too personal and sacred, but I feel like I love him more than I thought was actually possible. It actually scares me to realize how much I love him, and I don't want to go all co-dependent on him and freak him out, but I just realize that he was put in my life for a reason. And while I hate that he has to go through this, I am grateful to have him beside me and Sadie through the process. I look at him and I can see little similarities to what I saw in Reece. And I look at him and love him the way I do Sadie, unconditionally and pure. Even if he's being a shit head. I don't care. I've never really felt that I needed a guy in my life, but at this stage I cannot imagine Christian not in mine.<br />
<br />
I don't know how long I will be on this path, though I know this is something I will never forget, but Christian told me that he knows that one day we'll be happy again, and I believe he's right. This has been a test of faith, of love, of friendship, of strength...of so many things, but I feel like there is something amazing to take from it. I'm still working on figuring out what that is.<br />
<br />
I'll never forget how beautiful my son was the moment that he was born. And I am forever grateful that God chose me to be his mother, even if for only a very brief and sacred time.<br />
<br />
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-61872442283466671622013-04-24T00:49:00.000-04:002013-04-24T00:49:42.143-04:00*crickets chirping*<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Oh, hi there.<br />
<br />
So I took a non-intentional hiatus. Just kinda happened. No particular reason, other than I just got a little busy living life. Maybe a little uninspired. Maybe a little overwhelmed. And I felt...unattracted to writing. Weird, right? I honestly hadn't even turned on my personal laptop in what has probably been months.<br />
<br />
But somehow I winded up checking out my own blog. Reading back on my own posts. And I just miss documenting. Writing things down that I would normally never remember or record.<br />
<br />
So here I am again. I can't promise anything, but I am certainly going to make a concerted effort.<br />
<br />
<br />
How ya been, blogger world?Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-12115099071574071562012-12-31T00:20:00.002-05:002012-12-31T00:21:32.060-05:00six weeks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2K_3vCLwqhE/UOEMwzb1trI/AAAAAAAAaYg/9Lk-qy9v1kI/s1600/IMG_1077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2K_3vCLwqhE/UOEMwzb1trI/AAAAAAAAaYg/9Lk-qy9v1kI/s640/IMG_1077.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
It's been six weeks since I last blogged.<br />
<br />
Six weeks since <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/11/5iveplus-one-week-and-four-days.html">I wrote about Sadira's birthday, and turning five.</a><br />
<br />
<br />
So much has happened in the past six weeks. Things that I want to write about. Things that I NEED to write about.<br />
<br />
I'll be honest, I've felt a little off-balance, not blogging during these past six weeks.<br />
<br />
I've felt a little like something was missing. My recap. My reflection.<br />
<br />
Writing has become a bit cathartic for me...in a weird way. It's obviously my life that I'm blogging about, but somehow in the re-telling of the story, the documenting of what happened, the who, what, when, where, how...it helps me process, reflect, and gain some clarity.<br />
<br />
And that's been missing.<br />
<br />
So many things have happened.<br />
<br />
Yet somehow they feel unfinished. <br />
<br />
Undocumented.<br />
<br />
<br />
So now, on the heels of a new year, I'm posting an abbreviated recap of our past six weeks. With the complete stories hopefully to come. <br />
<br />
I feel like 2013 is going to be a big year for Sadira and I. But I don't want to leave 2012 without giving it it's due credit.<br />
<br />
So here it is...my 6 week recap.<br />
<br />
Courtesy of my handy log of iPhone pictures. :-) <br />
<br />
<br />
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After Sadira's birthday, we spend a fun weekend in Philadelphia...</div>
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Celebrated Poppop's birthday and Kerri's birthday...</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O9pX3qVgTE8/UOEPNsSB9wI/AAAAAAAAaZw/33jYy3sjUCI/s1600/IMG_1052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O9pX3qVgTE8/UOEPNsSB9wI/AAAAAAAAaZw/33jYy3sjUCI/s640/IMG_1052.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Thanksgiving was quick to follow...we were blessed to have both Aunties join us once again.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wbL5wCJ-RpA/UOEQO_RY-ZI/AAAAAAAAaaE/WjmKg3TPXjA/s1600/IMG_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wbL5wCJ-RpA/UOEQO_RY-ZI/AAAAAAAAaaE/WjmKg3TPXjA/s640/IMG_1321.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Then Sadira started a small project...</div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
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...which turned into a Big project...</div>
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<br /></div>
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...which turned into a HUGE project.</div>
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The Christmas season was well underway, and with it came some of our favorite traditions, including Festival of Trees...</div>
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...Cookie bakes with friends...</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lSILy0J-vHI/UOEXIUZY-uI/AAAAAAAAahA/_1_rzVtG3L4/s1600/IMG_1573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lSILy0J-vHI/UOEXIUZY-uI/AAAAAAAAahA/_1_rzVtG3L4/s640/IMG_1573.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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...and Christmas parties at school and dance class.</div>
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A birthday party for Tallulah...</div>
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...and finally a quick trip to New York with my littlest sister.</div>
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<br />
Christmas with the family..</div>
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...and a New Year to begin with just a day left.</div>
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There are some challenges coming up in 2013...Sadira's dad is moving back to Ohio and that will be an adjustment for us. Mostly for me, as I'm stressing to figure out how to do it all, and be everywhere I need to be. But there are amazing things on the horizon...visits and trips with friends, excitement with my new job, which I love, and a sweet, new baby cousin just waiting to be born.</div>
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Hopefully I can catch up and tell the story of the past six weeks, before the next six fly by.</div>
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Happy impending 2013!</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-38720794725033217892012-11-19T22:06:00.003-05:002012-11-19T22:06:30.096-05:005ive!...plus one week and four days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been MIA for a few weeks.. it's been busy around here! Mostly busy because...<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">SADIRA TURNED FIVE!!!!!</span></b></div>
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Before anyone begins sending their "condolences," I will not stand for anyone saying, "oh my goodness, aren't you so sad? Your baby is five!" </div>
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The answer is a resounding NO!! I'm so proud of the little person that she is. I've actually been anticipating and looking forward to her turning five for quite some time now. </div>
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So I'm EXCITED!</div>
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And in typical Nasrene/Birthday style, I had to make five FUN.</div>
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It started with Sadira's birthday party last weekend. She requested a Ravens party LAST year (girlfriend likes to plan ahead) so a Ravens party we had! (Thank you Mom for letting us "borrow" your house for the day!)</div>
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Complete with bounce house, of course.<br />
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"Suggs" cupcakes :-)</div>
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We also had a very special treat---Aunt Tessa stayed with us for FIVE DAYS STRAIGHT! (And she was a big, awesome help!)</div>
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Lots of awesome friends came by :-)</div>
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And on the night of Sadira's ACTUAL birthday (November 7th), Kerri and Sean came over for spaghetti, Sadira's requested dinner.</div>
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Kerri also brought along a VERY special gift...</div>
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Her necklace of charms from when she was a little girl...most of them ballet dancers.</div>
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Sadie got to pick her favorite...</div>
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And then, of course, we had ice cream cake and sang Happy Birthday AGAIN.</div>
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Man I love this kid. She's kind, funny, silly, smart, articulate (though sometimes sassy-mouthed but we're working on that), thoughtful, entertaining, WITTY, and (most important to me) compassionate and empathetic.</div>
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I'm so proud of this girl.</div>
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This FIVE YEAR OLD! </div>
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Thank you to everyone who came and celebrated with us, at her party and over the past two weeks. We are so very lucky to have you all as friends!!</div>
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LIFE IS GOOD! And FIVE IS FAB!</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-33606576722631318682012-10-31T01:02:00.002-04:002012-10-31T01:19:33.660-04:00hurricane preparedness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Ermahgerd! It's a Frenkunsterm!!"</div>
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This is a post about poop, a hurricane, and apple cake.</div>
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You're welcome! :-)</div>
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So you may have heard...we have this Hurricane named Sandy that decided to blow through this week. We've been through a few hurricanes in our area, but this monster, nicknamed "Frankenstorm," was shaping up to hit up the East Coast in a major way.</div>
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Everyone started freaking out this weekend. I chose not to worry about it, because I love weekends, and I'm not going to waste my weekend worrying about something out of my control.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(That's not the real reason, the real reason is because I'm a procrastinator.) </span></div>
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:-)</div>
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So my friend Kerri moved this weekend, and I had offered to watch Sean for her Friday night til Saturday whenever she was finished. I was going to take the kids to their soccer game on Saturday morning, and then Lauren and Rene's Halloween Party in the afternoon. It was going to be a great day! Everything was going well, until...</div>
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...Sean woke up Saturday morning with...a runny poop problem.</div>
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(He's gonna kill me for this post one day.)</div>
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Like, he killed three pairs of undies in 20 minutes kind of a problem.</div>
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So let me walk you through this...</div>
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I'm dressing two kids for soccer. It's colder weather now, so they have to wear an under layer too to keep them warm. So we've got a long sleeved shirt, and leggings (for Sadie) and thermals (for Sean) on the bottom, soccer uniform over that, socks on feet, topped with shin guards, topped with black tube socks, with feet shoved into soccer cleats.</div>
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I get both of them dressed, and that's when Sean says, "Nassy...I think I pooped in my pants."</div>
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Shit. (Literally)</div>
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I didn't want him to feel bad, or embarrassed, so I tried to make light of it, "no problem buddy, let's go upstairs and change your clothes."</div>
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I'll spare you the details, but I sat him on the potty for as long as possible. Then we get dressed again.</div>
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(And it happened again.) </div>
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Poor guy :-(</div>
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He said his tummy didn't hurt and he wasn't running a fever, so we tried again. Sit on that potty as long as possible. Finally he told me, "Nassy, my hiney's empty."</div>
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Alright. </div>
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I asked the kids if they wanted to go to soccer or stay home, but they wanted to go. I took a deep breath, threw some wet wipes and spare undies in my purse and off we went.</div>
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Miraculously we made it through soccer with no issues!</div>
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(I know you're probably wondering, "what in the world does this have to do with the storm?" Don't worry...we're getting there.)</div>
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So now soccer is over and I'm thinking we're in the clear! Sean was feeling better, no poop problems, and everyone was in a good mood. That's when I remembered, "Nasrene, you have no food in the house, two children to feed, and an impending storm on the way. Perhaps you should hit up the grocery store before it becomes super crazy on Sunday." So we swung though the Harris Teeter on the way home. </div>
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That's when things got REAL.</div>
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So we're walking through the store, and I'm trying to think to myself, "what do I need to get to prepare for this hurricane?" and I've just managed to throw some bananas, apples, and oranges in the cart when Sean goes, "Nassy!! I gotta go potty!"</div>
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Crap! (Literally) </div>
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So I grabbed him by the hand and raced to the bathroom (practically leaving poor Sadie behind) where we made it...just in time. </div>
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Whew.</div>
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Alright, so it's time to try again. We're meandering through the store, and I'm trying to make some sort of sense of what I should buy, but it's so HARD for me under than kind of pressure you know? There's the whole milk/eggs/toilet paper thing, but I figured if the power went out the milk would just go bad. We already had eggs in the house, and plenty of TP, but with the runny poop issue I grabbed a 12 pack anyway.</div>
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And a case of water, since it seemed like the thing to do.</div>
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The whole time we're walking around the store I'm saying things like, "Sean, how's your hiney?" "Anything going on in your butt, Sean?" "Hey Sean, do you wanna stop in the bathroom really quickly?"</div>
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He told me he was good. On we went.</div>
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It's bad enough, me trying to stock the kitchen prior to a hurricane, but add to that the distraction of a potential kid diarrhea explosion, and I JUST. CAN'T. FOCUS!</div>
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I ended up with a cart full of fruit, water, toilet paper, US Weekly, trail mix, brownie mix, frozen waffles, yogurt, a mexican cheese blend and iced tea. This is the best I could do. (How this will prepare me for a hurricane I do not know.)</div>
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So we're in line to check out and all is going well when Sean says, "uh oh, Nassy...I gotta potty again!"</div>
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Shitty crap! (Literally)</div>
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So I push the cart to the side and race him to the bathroom, again stranding poor Sadira, and yelling, "come on Sades! Try to hold it in, Sean!"</div>
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And once again, by miraculous intervention, we made it to the restroom in time.</div>
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OMG.</div>
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Now we're in the bathroom, and I happen to mention to Sean what a great job he did telling me he had to go potty, and what a big boy he is, and blah blah blah, and he's looking super proud of himself while he's sitting on the toilet, and that's when Sadie bursts into tears.</div>
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<i>"Mommy, you're not paying any attention to me at all today!!!!!"</i> while she's crying big alligator tears.</div>
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So just to recap, I'm comforting my crying daughter in the bathroom, as her best friend is pooping his guts out, while my groceries are out in the checkout line somewhere, and a hurricane's on the way.</div>
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My life is WAAAAAAY glamorous, y'all. </div>
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We finally made it out of the grocery store with our (paid for) groceries, and headed home. I stuffed Sean full of cheese sticks, and bananas, and peanut butter sandwich, and every other "binding food" I could think of, and it seemed to do the trick, so off to Lauren and Rene's Halloween party we went.</div>
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See? (Two Minnies and a poop-free Ninja!)</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4oyGg3kjC8A/UJCj6vGvqRI/AAAAAAAAaJM/gDRARpIMemw/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4oyGg3kjC8A/UJCj6vGvqRI/AAAAAAAAaJM/gDRARpIMemw/s640/003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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(And just in case you're curious, we had no more pooping problems. Though his mother did tell me that much later that night after I had returned Sean to her and she was running one last errand they had to pull over to the side of the road so Sean could poop in a bucket.)</div>
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Her life is super glamorous too, y'all. ;-)</div>
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Okay, so the next day was Sunday (the day before the hurricane) and Sadira and I decided to do the next logical thing when a hurricane is on the way...we went shopping at the mall!</div>
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Monday inevitably came, and so did Sandy. School was cancelled, work was cancelled, and as the rain started coming down more and more, we started cooking A LOT. First baked ziti, then a pot of chili, then an apple cake and then brownies.</div>
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(That was my segue into the apple cake portion of this post, in case you were wondering). </div>
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In my opinion, baking when a natural disaster is on the way, is just the obvious thing to do. If your life and belongings are going to be at risk, you might as well use up what you've got and enjoy it in the process. Not to mention is takes up times, and distracts you from the situation at hand.</div>
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I figured I'd share the apple cake recipe, since this is probably the only recipe you'll ever find on my blog, EVER.</div>
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So here we go, Jewish Apple Cake. Thank you Jewish friends...you gave us Jesus, and this apple cake recipe apparently. We owe you.</div>
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Actually I got this recipe from my mom. She's not Jewish. But Sadira is on occasion.</div>
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But I digress.</div>
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Ingredients:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sI5mft2rKGQ/UJCiiUDWkcI/AAAAAAAAaJE/Py9b-q2KF_k/s1600/031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sI5mft2rKGQ/UJCiiUDWkcI/AAAAAAAAaJE/Py9b-q2KF_k/s640/031.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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6 apples, (while Honeycrisp and Gala are my favorite, I usually use Red Delicious for this recipe)<br />
2 tablespoons cinnamon<br />
5 tablespoons sugar<br />
2 3/4 cups flour, sifted<br />
1 tablespoon baking powder<br />
1 teaspoon salt<br />
1 cup vegetable oil<br />
2 cups sugar<br />
1/4 cup orange juice, (or you can just squeeze two oranges of their juice, that's what I do)<br />
2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla, (I always ALWAYS add more. Maybe like double the amount? I love vanilla!)<br />
4 eggs<br />
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Also assemble your mixer and tube pan or bundt pan (or as Sadie calls it, "butt pan.")<br />
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Oh, and one cute baking assistant:<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YwBXI3apGvQ/UJCkXU6kWxI/AAAAAAAAaJU/GbqE2n9n1AE/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YwBXI3apGvQ/UJCkXU6kWxI/AAAAAAAAaJU/GbqE2n9n1AE/s400/019.JPG" width="266" /> </a></div>
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Pre-heat your oven to 350 degrees, and grease up your pan. Set that aside.</div>
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Core, peel, and slice your apples like this:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ULmtO7YTmQU/UJCk92syL7I/AAAAAAAAaJc/5lnLCgpChSY/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ULmtO7YTmQU/UJCk92syL7I/AAAAAAAAaJc/5lnLCgpChSY/s400/030.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Stir together the 2 tablespoons cinnamon and 5 tablespoons sugar, then use this mixture to coat the apples.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FxyMoeh4aPA/UJCmKe0MugI/AAAAAAAAaJs/w0IKYHLzEvA/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FxyMoeh4aPA/UJCmKe0MugI/AAAAAAAAaJs/w0IKYHLzEvA/s400/041.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T4d7XlfasuU/UJCmaqFbwEI/AAAAAAAAaJ4/pG5Gz9GNtu4/s1600/054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T4d7XlfasuU/UJCmaqFbwEI/AAAAAAAAaJ4/pG5Gz9GNtu4/s400/054.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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(Sadira photobomb.)</div>
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Next, stir together flour, baking powder and salt in a large mixing bowl. </div>
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In a separate bowl, whisk together oil, orange juice, sugar and vanilla.
Mix wet ingredients into the dry ones, then add eggs, one at a time.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lOzBot3V_2w/UJCn50nQ3yI/AAAAAAAAaKQ/SuXZjbdcrm4/s1600/048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lOzBot3V_2w/UJCn50nQ3yI/AAAAAAAAaKQ/SuXZjbdcrm4/s400/048.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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(Adding a little extra vanilla...sneaky sneaky..)</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TlbMOHargPU/UJCobQNrPAI/AAAAAAAAaKY/Cq-pRbUT5cQ/s1600/051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TlbMOHargPU/UJCobQNrPAI/AAAAAAAAaKY/Cq-pRbUT5cQ/s640/051.JPG" width="425" /></a></div>
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Once all of the ingredients are incorporated, assembled all of your parts again. To recap, you should have a bowl of cinnamon sugar apples, a greased cake pan, and the batter:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DZDxmkLlZpA/UJCpHjFRpXI/AAAAAAAAaKk/OBcfp5oSvKI/s1600/061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DZDxmkLlZpA/UJCpHjFRpXI/AAAAAAAAaKk/OBcfp5oSvKI/s400/061.JPG" width="266" /> </a></div>
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Next, pour half of the batter into pan. Spread half of the apples over it.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JRwa3FPVpio/UJCpoSoGM-I/AAAAAAAAaKs/EQWfnIRJaxs/s1600/063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JRwa3FPVpio/UJCpoSoGM-I/AAAAAAAAaKs/EQWfnIRJaxs/s400/063.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sneak eat a few pieces of apple when you think your Mommy's not paying attention, tsk tsk...</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vBl21A3-IyY/UJCqe40z54I/AAAAAAAAaK8/awKMCQTryLw/s1600/059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vBl21A3-IyY/UJCqe40z54I/AAAAAAAAaK8/awKMCQTryLw/s400/059.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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Pour the remaining batter over the apples and arrange the remaining apples on top.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0ZH-wDR6ijU/UJCr18NlJ0I/AAAAAAAAaLU/NJQAbm8EVe4/s1600/073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0ZH-wDR6ijU/UJCr18NlJ0I/AAAAAAAAaLU/NJQAbm8EVe4/s640/073.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Bake for 90 minutes. Your house will smell amazing.<br />
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The finished product:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8fLPNzolikA/UJCsvRyKFuI/AAAAAAAAaLc/OPkER2ZtQvs/s1600/cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8fLPNzolikA/UJCsvRyKFuI/AAAAAAAAaLc/OPkER2ZtQvs/s640/cake.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Seriously y'all, OMG, this cake is so delicious.<br />
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You need to let it cool FOR-EV-ER, so just heads up. But the good thing is, since there are half a dozen apples in this bad boy, you can fool yourself into thinking it can count as a breakfast food.<br />
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Which is exactly what we did this morning, in Day Two of Hurricane Sandy:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eRvIjUOq3iU/UJCt2i-QvfI/AAAAAAAAaLk/VR-pRnlU-cg/s1600/077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eRvIjUOq3iU/UJCt2i-QvfI/AAAAAAAAaLk/VR-pRnlU-cg/s400/077.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
All in all, we were exceptionally lucky during this hurricane. Our power only flickered on and off a few times, and we had no flooding or structural damage. Others in our area and north of us obviously didn't fare as well.<br />
<br />
And that concludes my post on hurricane preparedness, poop, and apple cake. ;-)<br />
<br />
Happy Halloween everyone!Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-72430382944580635332012-10-25T22:12:00.003-04:002012-10-25T22:12:47.316-04:00phursday phavorite photo: punkin pile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ab7-NCeqKf8/UInxJTAoWEI/AAAAAAAAaG4/dxlqzJaBQkA/s1600/244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ab7-NCeqKf8/UInxJTAoWEI/AAAAAAAAaG4/dxlqzJaBQkA/s640/244.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
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I don't think I'll ever be able to take enough pictures of my fall baby in a pile of pumpkins. Probably one of my favorite seasonal pics we take every single year.</div>
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<br />Love this pumpkin pie. Thirteen days til she turns five!</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-14559425165527013042012-10-24T23:10:00.001-04:002012-10-24T23:10:12.074-04:00new job! new job! new job!<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9auEgDHIOfE/UIiexliMOsI/AAAAAAAAaCQ/_KbKT4Xi9No/s1600/photo4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" oea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9auEgDHIOfE/UIiexliMOsI/AAAAAAAAaCQ/_KbKT4Xi9No/s640/photo4.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Four months ago I got an email.<br />
<br />
It was about a possible new job.<br />
<br />
I couldn't think about a new job, even though I was unhappy at my current job.<br />
<br />
There was just too much on my plate.<br />
<br />
Too much to take care of.<br />
Too many things that needed to be finished yesterday.<br />
Too many things I was bringing home with me to work on.<br />
<br />
I wasn't happy.<br />
But I wasn't MISERABLE.<br />
I didn't like where I was, but the hole just to get on top of everything seemed impossible to surmount.<br />
<br />
Looking for a new job, or considering a new position seemed like one more thing on the "to do" list.<br />
<br />
I didn't respond to the email.<br />
<br />
Weeks went by.<br />
<br />
Months went by.<br />
<br />
<br />
And I started getting REALLY unhappy in my current job.<br />
<br />
I re-read one of my old blog posts one night. <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/very-johnston-weekend.html">This one</a>, actually. And this line--(my own freakin' line, how nuts is that?)--resonated with me:<br />
<br />
<em>"Surely no one was ever offered the job of the dreams or found the love of their life by sitting home and staring at their floorboards."</em><br />
<br />
Opportunities don't just fall into your lap...you have to make them happen.<br />
<br />
And then I remembered the email that I never responded to.<br />
<br />
I felt badly that I hadn't acknowledged it.<br />
<br />
<br />
I wrote back.<br />
<br />
<br />
The position had been filled.<br />
<br />
<br />
But there was another position...<br />
...one that was even MORE of a match for what I'd like to do.<br />
<br />
<br />
And so I submitted my information.<br />
<br />
<br />
And waited.<br />
<br />
<br />
Waited.<br />
<br />
<br />
Waited.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And then...a response!<br />
<br />
<br />
"We'd like to call you for a phone screen, are you available?"<br />
<br />
<br />
Uh...okay!<br />
<br />
<br />
Phone screen happened. Just 20 minutes long, but a conversation that totally changed my mind on the position.<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i><i>Suddenly I REALLY wanted this job.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
It was more of a match for me than I originally thought. It would be an increase. A step up. Much closer to home.<br />
<br />
(The precise location I didn't know, I just knew it was downtown.)<br />
<br />
<br />
Within minutes of hanging up from the phone screen, the phone rang again. "We'd like for you to come in for an in-person interview."<br />
<br />
<br />
SAY WHAAAA??!<br />
<br />
"Can you come in early next week? We are very interested and looking to make a decision on this position quickly."<br />
<br />
<br />
OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!<br />
<br />
<br />
"Oh, and do you know where we are located? We are in the Warehouse at Camden Yards."<br />
<br />
<br />
DROP.<br />
DEAD.<br />
<br />
<br />
<em>thunk.</em><br />
<br />
<br />
Suddenly this email that I had blown off months ago had turned into my dream job overnight.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
NOWIREALLYREALLYREALLYREALLYWANTEDTHISJOB!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
The weekend came...<br />
<br />
<br />
...Sadira and went on a tour of <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/10/bird-bird-birdbird-is-word-orioles.html">Camden Yards</a> and I couldn't stop staring at the Warehouse.<br />
<br />
<br />
At the end of the tour we were given a souvenir.<br />
<br />
<br />
This was it.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nwY-pfbIgLo/UIiiSxpKU3I/AAAAAAAAaDc/kZ6fTpTxkLU/s1600/photo1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" oea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nwY-pfbIgLo/UIiiSxpKU3I/AAAAAAAAaDc/kZ6fTpTxkLU/s400/photo1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It's a keychain.</div>
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But it doesn't have the Orioles' logo on it. It doesn't have the Oriole Bird on it. It doesn't have a baseball diamond on it. Hell, it doesn't even have a baseball on it.</div>
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It's got the Warehouse on it.</div>
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(Of course it does.)</div>
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Monday came and went.</div>
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And then Tuesday came...</div>
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...and I woke up</div>
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...got dressed</div>
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...and prepared for my interview.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OmOy-IYgsyE/UIihili8z8I/AAAAAAAAaDQ/Tyesz8pb2bY/s1600/photo2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OmOy-IYgsyE/UIihili8z8I/AAAAAAAAaDQ/Tyesz8pb2bY/s400/photo2.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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This was my view at lunch.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-va6b6-fw2fo/UIijVrNwgBI/AAAAAAAAaDk/nOFLIzlhsLg/s1600/photo5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-va6b6-fw2fo/UIijVrNwgBI/AAAAAAAAaDk/nOFLIzlhsLg/s400/photo5.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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And my interview lasted FIVE HOURS! With SEVEN PEOPLE!</div>
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I left feeling confident.</div>
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I left feeling exhilarated.</div>
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I left feeling EXHAUSTED.</div>
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And over the course of the next week, I ended up going to not one, not two but THREE baseball games.</div>
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Yes, this type of frequency is unusual, but <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/10/bird-bird-birdbird-is-word-orioles.html">the Orioles were playing inspired baseball</a>! The season was almost over and they were securing a playoff spot for the first time in 14 years!</div>
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And although I was thrilled for my baseball team, every time I went to a game all I could see was...</div>
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...the WAREHOUSE.</div>
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Glaring at me haughtily like it knew a secret I couldn't be privy to just yet.</div>
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See it?</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--0G8zSs1IX8/UIil6fzo0FI/AAAAAAAAaEU/ZDp0yZ61yHg/s1600/photo2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" oea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--0G8zSs1IX8/UIil6fzo0FI/AAAAAAAAaEU/ZDp0yZ61yHg/s640/photo2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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How about now?</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XnFcFrs2G6Q/UIimN9ICPvI/AAAAAAAAaEw/nHAkSytdovY/s1600/photo1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" oea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XnFcFrs2G6Q/UIimN9ICPvI/AAAAAAAAaEw/nHAkSytdovY/s640/photo1.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And all this time I was waiting.</div>
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Waiting.</div>
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Waiting.</div>
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Waiting for an answer. </div>
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And the few friends who knew I had gone on this interview would ask how it went, and I would be scared to answer.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It was like going out on a first date with a guy that you really really really like. And YOU feel like it went well, but you're not sure. And you're waiting to hear back.</div>
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Waiting.</div>
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Waiting.</div>
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Waiting.</div>
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(And you don't want to talk about it, because you're scared of jinxing it.)</div>
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(But you want to talk about it, because you're SO EXCITED!)</div>
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And all this time my <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/09/super-sucktastic-september.html">super sucktastic September</a> was going on. I said to a friend, "I swear, if I end up getting this job, it will end up being worth all the crap I went through this month!" </div>
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<br /></div>
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And still I waited.</div>
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So it seemed only appropos that I had to wait until October 1st to get my actual offer. :-)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">I GOT THE JOB!!!!!!!!!</span></strong></div>
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I started yesterday. :-)</div>
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And this is not only good news because it's in the Warehouse (which of course is fabulous). It's MUCH closer to home (Less than 7 miles away), which is closer to Sadie's school, less gas mileage, don't have to go through the tunnel every day...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
...not to mention it's a FANTASTIC move for me professionally. I was feeling stagnant and uninspired, and now I feel motivated and excited. I've actually gotten up EARLIER than necessary the past two days in anticipation.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
My boss is fantastic. He actually said today in conversation, "well, you're a lot like me...we seem to be very similar in our philosophies," and he's RIGHT. I was thinking the same thing. There's just a really great energy there.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And while I have a lot to learn still, I feel motivated and excited. Inspired and supported. I feel ridiculous saying this so early, but I really really love my job. And I don't even know what all it entails just yet. I just know it's where I'm supposed to be.</div>
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And working in this gorgeous building isn't so shabby either. ;-)</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hPSoZdASm0M/UIirJkuXQXI/AAAAAAAAaF0/P_2EKzN-u-0/s1600/photo3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" oea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hPSoZdASm0M/UIirJkuXQXI/AAAAAAAAaF0/P_2EKzN-u-0/s640/photo3.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-31971183907246575252012-10-18T01:26:00.002-04:002012-10-18T01:26:43.741-04:00oh what a difference a year makes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yBdh4tLYLog/UH97m7TQcaI/AAAAAAAAZ9E/juk0RhhxD64/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yBdh4tLYLog/UH97m7TQcaI/AAAAAAAAZ9E/juk0RhhxD64/s640/040.JPG" width="426" /> </a></div>
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This was my expert pumpkin picker last year. </div>
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This is my expert pumpkin picker this year:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HbVAtZHNsdE/UH98UufC7II/AAAAAAAAZ9M/t4zrRyJzFrE/s1600/310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HbVAtZHNsdE/UH98UufC7II/AAAAAAAAZ9M/t4zrRyJzFrE/s640/310.JPG" width="426" /> </a></div>
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What a difference a year makes! </div>
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Sometimes it feels like life before Sadira was here was AGES ago...and then other times it feels like she went from baby...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wloUW2ZH3-s/UH-M1gM_ItI/AAAAAAAAaAE/hjS63SG6v5Q/s1600/chairs+2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wloUW2ZH3-s/UH-M1gM_ItI/AAAAAAAAaAE/hjS63SG6v5Q/s640/chairs+2008.jpg" width="426" /> </a></div>
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<br /></div>
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...to toddler...</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-22o-nTmQ0Tc/UH-M7A0AIaI/AAAAAAAAaAM/dvZMMZ71fnU/s1600/chairs+2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-22o-nTmQ0Tc/UH-M7A0AIaI/AAAAAAAAaAM/dvZMMZ71fnU/s640/chairs+2009.jpg" width="426" /> </a></div>
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to kid...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-39DVbULhgl4/UH-NVuV7o9I/AAAAAAAAaAU/ARgn02fDsxc/s1600/233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-39DVbULhgl4/UH-NVuV7o9I/AAAAAAAAaAU/ARgn02fDsxc/s640/233.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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</div>
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...in the blink of an eye!</div>
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</div>
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Four years ago she looked like this:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e8lfcXhUcHI/UH-N4eiT3DI/AAAAAAAAaAc/h2j2MgTIGSY/s1600/Cox+2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e8lfcXhUcHI/UH-N4eiT3DI/AAAAAAAAaAc/h2j2MgTIGSY/s640/Cox+2008.jpg" width="480" /> </a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Yet four DAYS ago she looked like this:</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DO2SGZrL1rM/UH-OnfgBweI/AAAAAAAAaAk/wQ5IssFNu-4/s1600/090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DO2SGZrL1rM/UH-OnfgBweI/AAAAAAAAaAk/wQ5IssFNu-4/s640/090.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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But wait there's more...</div>
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Four years ago:</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TiTpzZ06JLM/UH-LU3dtPRI/AAAAAAAAZ_o/uolHm4kX9_0/s1600/Growth+chart+2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TiTpzZ06JLM/UH-LU3dtPRI/AAAAAAAAZ_o/uolHm4kX9_0/s640/Growth+chart+2008.jpg" width="480" /> </a></div>
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Three years ago:</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pCVmR7uiMPI/UH-Lld4jEFI/AAAAAAAAZ_w/r1ym5s5B2Es/s1600/Growth+chart+2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pCVmR7uiMPI/UH-Lld4jEFI/AAAAAAAAZ_w/r1ym5s5B2Es/s640/Growth+chart+2009.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Two years ago:</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-czbSeF_gh0c/UH-Ltv2nkCI/AAAAAAAAZ_4/fLbzl680eGE/s1600/Growth+chart+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-czbSeF_gh0c/UH-Ltv2nkCI/AAAAAAAAZ_4/fLbzl680eGE/s640/Growth+chart+2010.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Last year: </div>
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This year:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GzoTSGbfK1M/UH-AOVcccJI/AAAAAAAAZ-U/EtZtyb_S1nE/s1600/252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GzoTSGbfK1M/UH-AOVcccJI/AAAAAAAAZ-U/EtZtyb_S1nE/s640/252.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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Crazy, right?!?!</div>
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What's that you say? Do that one more time?</div>
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Okay, here we go...</div>
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First fall:</div>
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Second fall:</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--DpZwWdNVxk/UH-PrA3d4JI/AAAAAAAAaA4/u9v94txiZMk/s1600/pumpkin+pile+2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--DpZwWdNVxk/UH-PrA3d4JI/AAAAAAAAaA4/u9v94txiZMk/s640/pumpkin+pile+2009.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div>
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Third fall:</div>
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Fourth fall:</div>
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Fifth fall:</div>
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The weird thing is, I no longer get sad about her getting older. In a very strange way, I'm actually looking forward and excited for this birthday.</div>
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I've even slipped up twice and referred to her as "my five year old," which prompts a quick response of, "Mooooom, I'm not five YET...."</div>
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It's so weird to me because I had SUCH a hard time with her turning one. I cried all day, everytime someone said "Happy Birthday!" I'd burst into tears. I couldn't explain it, but I dreaded her getting bigger. Babyhood happened so quickly.</div>
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When she turned two and three I wasn't AS emotional, but I still found myself avoiding pictures of her when she was younger. I didn't even ENJOY looking at her baby pictures, it was sad and depressing in an almost macabre kind of way. As if that baby no longer existed, and this <i>child</i> is what remains in her place.</div>
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Weird, right?</div>
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Even as recent as last year <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2011/11/holy-crapoly.html">I had a mini-freak out</a> about her getting yet another year older. </div>
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This year is so different.</div>
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I guess I've just accepted that the passage of time is unavoidable. I don't mourn for <i>my</i> younger years when I turn another year older..<a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2011/06/rip-my-twenties.html">.I celebrate it</a>, and <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/ringing-in-new-year.html">talk about it</a>, and <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2011/07/birthday-celebrationa-month-in-review.html">annoy all of my co-workers</a> with my incessant commentary about it...so why on earth should I mourn my daughter getting older?</div>
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I'm just not going to.</div>
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Instead of mourning the baby and toddler that I used to have...</div>
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I'd rather celebrate the amazing child that I have now.</div>
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I can't wait for her to turn five. :-)</div>
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<br />Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-56032023961768254532012-10-12T18:45:00.000-04:002012-10-12T18:46:46.369-04:00friday flashback: introducing...team lady tata!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>2. Complete the Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk - DONE!</i><br />
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Part 1 <i><br /></i></div>
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It's October, which is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. In honor of that, and my dear friend Blanca who fought her own battle and WON (now several years in remission) my Friday Flashback posts are going to tell the story of how Alix and I tackled the Susan G. Komen 3 Day walk.</div>
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Two years ago this month I had the opportunity to <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2010/10/racing-for-cure.html">Race for the Cure with Blanca</a> and her team of breast cancer survivors. It was exhilarating and inspiring, and at the end of that post, I mentioned my plan to do the Susan G. Komen 3 Day.</div>
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For those of you unfamiliar with this event, it's three days of walking, approximately 20 miles each day for a total of 60 miles.</div>
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Yes, that's correct, SIXTY miles.</div>
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I became so set on doing this walk, that my friend Alix (who just happens to be Blanca's daughter and my dear friend) and I registered and made a plan to complete the walk together.</div>
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When we first planned it, we were so excited! We were nine months out, plenty of time to train, fund raise and prepare.<br />
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We picked a team name: Lady Tata! </div>
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We excitedly talked about our options of where we'd walk. Somewhere on the west coast where the weather is more cooperative? Somewhere on the east coast where'd we be able to see cool landmarks throughout our walk? Somewhere neither of us had ever been to before?</div>
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As we discussed this, making spreadsheets of options, considering airfare and time away from work, it suddenly hit me..."Alix, don't you want to see your mom at the finish line at the end of the walk?"</div>
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And that was it. Obviously we wanted to celebrate this feat with Blanca, so it was decided that we would walk in Washington D.C. Close to home base, and most importantly, close to Blanca.</div>
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And as the months went on, and Sadira accompanied me on training walk after training walk, I became more and more focused on making sure I'd be able to complete the 60 mile walk. I had never walked that long of a distance in that time span EVER, so I wanted to make sure I was physically prepared. </div>
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And so we walked.</div>
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And walked.</div>
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And walked.</div>
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Until finally it was end of the summer and the walk was less than a month away and I realized that I had forgotten to equally commit myself to the OTHER major challenge of the 3 Day---the fundraising.</div>
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And I found myself two weeks away and $1400 short of my $2300 commitment. </div>
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Which meant if I couldn't raise the funds I would have to pay for them myself. </div>
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GULP.</div>
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So I sprung into gear and wrote the following letter. Posted all over Facebook and begged my friends to share share share:</div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>One year ago today, with your help, I rappelled 23 stories down the side of Silo Point and raised over $2300 for Gaudenzia’s women and children’s program.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year I’ve decided to take part in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure and walk 60 miles in Washington D.C. over three days.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>I’m writing today to once again ask for your support.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>In order to walk I must, once again, raise $2300.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As of today I’m about $1400 short of my goal, with less than two weeks to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m asking that if you can, to please consider a donation <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">of any amount</b> to the Susan G. Komen foundation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To donate, please visit my page at: </i></span><a href="http://www.the3day.org/goto/NassyMirjaf"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>http://www.the3day.org/goto/NassyMirjaf</i></span></a><span class="smallbold1"><span style="mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know many of you are familiar with this organization and the good work that they do, but I’d like to give you an example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently I was able to meet a woman in a local support group whose chemotherapy and radiation treatment has been funded by the Komen foundation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her health insurance only covered a small portion of her expenses and she has three small children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was actually pregnant with her third when she was diagnosed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the help of the Komen Foundation, she is on the road to beating breast cancer.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>More specifically, I am walking in honor of Blanca Wisner, a dear family friend and breast cancer survivor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can read more about her here:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></span><a href="http://www.the3day.org/goto/LADYTATA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>http://www.the3day.org/goto/LADYTATA</i></span></a><span class="smallbold1"><span style="mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="smallbold1"><span style="font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>If you cannot donate monetarily at this time, please consider forwarding this email to anyone who may want to, or post the link on your Facebook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every little bit helps!<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="smallbold1"><span style="mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>I sincerely appreciate any support you can provide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was with your assistance last year that I was able to do the impossible and rappel 23 stories down the side of a building!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know with your support I will be able to make it 60 miles.<o:p></o:p></i></span></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="smallbold1"><span style="font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>Thank you, <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="smallbold1"><span style="font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i>Nasrene<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></div>
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With only two weeks to go I was not hopeful, but I figured my plea would make up SOME of the difference.</div>
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And like it always does in times of need, something amazing happened.</div>
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My friends came through like renegades, and gave when they could, passed on my pea when they couldn't. I started getting emails with the five words every 3 Day walker LOVES to see in the subject line:</div>
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<i>"You're received a new donation."</i></div>
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And soon these new donations were attached to names I'd never ever seen before. People who had heard what we were participating in and decided to give because their mom had had breast cancer...or their grandmom...or their aunt. </div>
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Or just cause we asked.</div>
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My friend Kerri's company, <a href="http://www.truecitrus.com/">True Citrus</a>, provided an extremely generous donation, and next thing I knew I had not only met my goal, but I had exceeded it...in just nine days.</div>
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I was ASTONISHED, to say the least.</div>
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Fueled by this new excitement I couldn't wait to get started. So when Alix's flight landed in Baltimore shortly before the walk, we eagerly discussed what we were packing, what we were wearing, our team shirts, our decorations, EVERYTHING. </div>
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We were AMPED and READY.<br />
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We made our plan...that Alix and her parents Richard and Blanca would pick me up bright and early at 4:30am the morning of the walk so we could make it to DC in time for Opening Ceremonies and start our trek.<br />
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We were tired, but giddy with excitement on the drive down, with our carefully packed bags (which contained all of our clothes and necessities for the next three days, all individually wrapped in trash bags to protect from the elements and carefully labelled), along with our water packs, extra socks, bandages, blister care, and lots and lots of pink accessories in tow.<br />
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And as we approached Nationals Stadium, the sea of pink got bigger and bigger. We deposited our belongings on a truck, knowing that we wouldn't see them again until we completed the first leg of our 60 miles. <br />
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Soon Opening Ceremonies began.<br />
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Richard and Blanca were there to see us off </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fUif5_IRUe0/UHibfveh7EI/AAAAAAAAZ7w/w-aCzaiCHt0/s1600/099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fUif5_IRUe0/UHibfveh7EI/AAAAAAAAZ7w/w-aCzaiCHt0/s400/099.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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And just as Opening Ceremonies concluded, the sun began to come up. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XZoQucQoabw/UHibluf5ZYI/AAAAAAAAZ74/Rq3GcljjKY0/s1600/106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XZoQucQoabw/UHibluf5ZYI/AAAAAAAAZ74/Rq3GcljjKY0/s400/106.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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We hugged and kissed the gal who inspired us to do this crazy walk in the first place... </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W27fjgYYfNk/UHibsqTEt-I/AAAAAAAAZ8A/rVuPfKVMyD8/s1600/108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W27fjgYYfNk/UHibsqTEt-I/AAAAAAAAZ8A/rVuPfKVMyD8/s640/108.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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...and hit the road!</div>
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We were excited!</div>
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We were full of energy!</div>
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We were ready!</div>
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We had NO IDEA what we were in for.</div>
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<i>(Next Friday, Part Two: how we walked 40 miles in the rain...uphill...both ways.)</i></div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-15975612543983915602012-10-11T14:30:00.000-04:002012-10-11T14:44:44.192-04:00phursday phavorite photo: cousins!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7TXaKPNPaew/UHcOUA5HilI/AAAAAAAAZ5c/EZ4Vnggz_hc/s1600/084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" nea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7TXaKPNPaew/UHcOUA5HilI/AAAAAAAAZ5c/EZ4Vnggz_hc/s640/084.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sadira wasn't in the mood for taking photos, I was trying to get the lighting right and had to wing it quickly, and after a measely two shots, Sades was OVER IT, but I don't even care. This is FAR from a good photo technically, but it's TOTALLY one of my favorite photos because of who is in it. Sadira and her baby cousin!</div>
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Sadira (on the outside) and Miss McKenzie (on the inside). She will be gracing us with her presence in February 2013, and I CANNOT WAIT.</div>
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I have a feeling I'll be making that two hour drive to Hebron a whole lot more often once the tiny girl is here...</div>
Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-39793605860013524332012-10-10T15:07:00.000-04:002012-10-10T15:07:15.038-04:00bird bird bird...bird is the word: orioles edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mtHUnnzFQbY/UHTbptX1qRI/AAAAAAAAZqs/k0x6p9CDLWQ/s1600/107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mtHUnnzFQbY/UHTbptX1qRI/AAAAAAAAZqs/k0x6p9CDLWQ/s640/107.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Last week I wrote about how much Baltimore <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/09/bird-bird-birdbird-is-word-ravens.html">loves the Ravens</a>.<br />
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But there's another flock of birds we worship around these parts.<br />
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Monday night I watched the Orioles beat the Yankees. In October. Which is the postseason. In the second game of the ALDS. They beat the Texas Rangers Friday night in the Wildcard game.<br />
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And made it to the ALDS.<br />
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This is surreal.<br />
<br />
The last time this happened was in 1997.<br />
<br />
Nineteen ninety-seven.<br />
<br />
When I was still in high school.<br />
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When there was no Facebook, no Twitter.<br />
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My friends and I called each other on our house phones, instead of texting one another, because cell phones weren't readily available yet.<br />
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And texting didn't exist.<br />
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iPods didn't exist either.<br />
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This year we have won 93 games and lost 69.<br />
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Last year we won 69 games and lost 93.<br />
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This has been a looooooooong time coming.<br />
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So needless to say, we are a bit excited. :-)<br />
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And for the first time in a LONG LONG time, Oriole Magic is alive and well!!<br />
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About three weeks ago, Sadira and I visited Camden Yards for a tour. It was one of the last items on our <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">summer list</a>, and excitement was mounting as the Orioles looked to make a postseason run.<br />
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And OMG you guys, if you are at all an Orioles' fan, or even a MLB fan, get thee to Camden Yards for a tour. It was awesome.<br />
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First of all, it was cheap. My ticket was $9, and Sadie's was free thanks to her <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/this-is-birdland.html">Dugout Club membership</a>. Here's a pictorial of our day.<br />
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Sadira purchasing our tickets (it was her treat...<span style="font-size: x-small;">just kidding</span>):</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yBGjHfBufNE/UHTqaxM-y8I/AAAAAAAAZrk/T8U7Y_MzOps/s1600/099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yBGjHfBufNE/UHTqaxM-y8I/AAAAAAAAZrk/T8U7Y_MzOps/s400/099.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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Walking around like she owns the place</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDtd_eQbits/UHTr7-2khYI/AAAAAAAAZrw/WthtF19xWDc/s1600/108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDtd_eQbits/UHTr7-2khYI/AAAAAAAAZrw/WthtF19xWDc/s640/108.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And posing.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxUybiemGmc/UHT5ykdDKZI/AAAAAAAAZsw/QuJNNqbln6k/s1600/photo(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxUybiemGmc/UHT5ykdDKZI/AAAAAAAAZsw/QuJNNqbln6k/s640/photo(3).jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lots...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5D-bv2T45-k/UHWuTfvr-xI/AAAAAAAAZzA/huxyYXTHgTU/s1600/posin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" nea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5D-bv2T45-k/UHWuTfvr-xI/AAAAAAAAZzA/huxyYXTHgTU/s640/posin.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
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...and lots...</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B4Y8DWTapks/UHWQvb4C9SI/AAAAAAAAZuM/4brxFiM_8pQ/s1600/114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" nea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B4Y8DWTapks/UHWQvb4C9SI/AAAAAAAAZuM/4brxFiM_8pQ/s640/114.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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...and lots...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wji_aZKdvxM/UHWQ9YaPSkI/AAAAAAAAZuU/iTXm9bBRdSE/s1600/201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" nea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wji_aZKdvxM/UHWQ9YaPSkI/AAAAAAAAZuU/iTXm9bBRdSE/s640/201.JPG" width="425" /></a></div>
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...and lots...</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-siz7MUBz3t4/UHWRjkyAADI/AAAAAAAAZuc/0fi9XRxN1ng/s1600/166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" nea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-siz7MUBz3t4/UHWRjkyAADI/AAAAAAAAZuc/0fi9XRxN1ng/s640/166.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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...of posing.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DXOZ2g9eCcU/UHWR-CCLngI/AAAAAAAAZuk/YrFJCibkmZ4/s1600/206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" nea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DXOZ2g9eCcU/UHWR-CCLngI/AAAAAAAAZuk/YrFJCibkmZ4/s640/206.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
Our tour began on the pedestrian walkway, where we met our guide, Mr. Mike. He was very helpful and informative during the whole tour which lasted 90 minutes. I'll be honest and let you know that I don't think Sadira's attention span could've made it through the whole thing this time last year...but she was juuuuust old enough and attentive enough this year to enjoy it. <br />
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I guess this is also a place she really enjoys learning about, so she was into it.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zdoT3SW5aSQ/UHWdzOc1BjI/AAAAAAAAZxk/5z8JKdCHKo0/s1600/photo(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zdoT3SW5aSQ/UHWdzOc1BjI/AAAAAAAAZxk/5z8JKdCHKo0/s400/photo(2).jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Our trusty tour guide</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qa63KwSONw8/UHWWI03zziI/AAAAAAAAZvc/wmU-oOJNOPQ/s1600/116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qa63KwSONw8/UHWWI03zziI/AAAAAAAAZvc/wmU-oOJNOPQ/s400/116.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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A trip through the Statue Garden, which showcased Earl Weaver:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6UplW6itxSc/UHWXldhBtKI/AAAAAAAAZvk/NVb8mVozOS0/s1600/122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6UplW6itxSc/UHWXldhBtKI/AAAAAAAAZvk/NVb8mVozOS0/s320/122.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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Eddie Murray:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DcdLtHMOO7w/UHWYL8ReQVI/AAAAAAAAZvw/WvRoWNnm500/s1600/129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DcdLtHMOO7w/UHWYL8ReQVI/AAAAAAAAZvw/WvRoWNnm500/s400/129.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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Cal Ripken Jr.:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1SKdc0juvL8/UHWYY6gFipI/AAAAAAAAZv4/Yeds0irAeQI/s1600/133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" nea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1SKdc0juvL8/UHWYY6gFipI/AAAAAAAAZv4/Yeds0irAeQI/s400/133.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Frank Robinson:</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qjKHkLh2dtA/UHWYmx7Vf0I/AAAAAAAAZwA/l-qzKBNE--Q/s1600/129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qjKHkLh2dtA/UHWYmx7Vf0I/AAAAAAAAZwA/l-qzKBNE--Q/s400/129.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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and Jim Palmer:</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a9jMkn9m38I/UHWY03ruJkI/AAAAAAAAZwI/umW26AGJtjE/s1600/134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a9jMkn9m38I/UHWY03ruJkI/AAAAAAAAZwI/umW26AGJtjE/s400/134.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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We took a stroll through the Club Level...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QEvL0PG8P0E/UHT6I2X0CiI/AAAAAAAAZtA/5AhJ-sR5MqI/s1600/photo(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QEvL0PG8P0E/UHT6I2X0CiI/AAAAAAAAZtA/5AhJ-sR5MqI/s400/photo(6).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gvI-w8GQvlg/UHWd64YevGI/AAAAAAAAZxs/mt1IMszVR9g/s1600/photo(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gvI-w8GQvlg/UHWd64YevGI/AAAAAAAAZxs/mt1IMszVR9g/s400/photo(4).jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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...saw some little awards and trophies we had lying around..</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--RM6m-EKE_A/UHT6RpPMkcI/AAAAAAAAZtI/aomjwJn1umM/s1600/photo(7).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--RM6m-EKE_A/UHT6RpPMkcI/AAAAAAAAZtI/aomjwJn1umM/s400/photo(7).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dtR7xaDuU1o/UHWbe0gdF4I/AAAAAAAAZxA/V3tqsUBQoUc/s1600/148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dtR7xaDuU1o/UHWbe0gdF4I/AAAAAAAAZxA/V3tqsUBQoUc/s400/148.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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..and relaxed in a Club Suite.</div>
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Took a peek out of the window to wave "hi" to M&T Bank stadium across the way.</div>
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Next up was the press box...</div>
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(the view from the press box):</div>
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a sneak peak through a few of the back offices...</div>
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..until finally....</div>
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...we made it out on the field!</div>
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And for the grand finale?</div>
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A trip into the ORIOLES' DUGOUT!</div>
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(This was both of our favorite parts...can you tell?)</div>
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At the end, we walked past the foul pole, which Mr. Mike pointed out was the original from Memorial Stadium, and brought to Camden Yards when the new stadium was built. He also told us its good luck to touch the pole on your way out. </div>
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Sadira decided to hug it for extra luck.</div>
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We concluded our tour where it began, and Mr. Mike pointed out all of the bronze baseballs on the pedestrian walkway, which mark the spots where homeruns have been hit out of the park.</div>
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We were hungry, so we decided to stop and grab some lunch at the park. The O's were just beginning their 1:35 game versus the Red Sox, so we watched a bit from Dempsey's.</div>
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It was a bit strange to be watching the Orioles play from our empty ballpark. The Orioles ended up winning that game 9-6, and with each homerun the crowd assembled at Camden Yards would go wild--just as if we were watching the game in person.</div>
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The very next weekend, the Orioles prepared for the last home series of the regular season. I was supposed to be out of town, but a last minute emergency changed my plans. Just as things were settling down, I got an unexpected text from my friend Erica, asking me if I wanted to go to the game with her.</div>
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Again, I've learned in life sometimes it's not necessary to ask who/where/why/when/how when someone is offering you a surprising treat. And <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/09/bird-bird-birdbird-is-word-ravens.html">as with the limo incident</a>, it's sometimes best to just nod and say, "why thank you very much, that would be lovely!"</div>
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This particular night, the Orioles were unveiling the final statue in the legends series, Brooks Robinson. </div>
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The crowd was huge,</div>
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Mr. Robinson's #5 was aglow on the warehouse,</div>
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the Bird was dancin' on the Dugout</div>
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and with a little Oriole Magic...</div>
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the O's brought home a win!</div>
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Tonight they take on the Yankees in Game 3 of the ALDS...best of five wins. Never in my wildest dreams would I think the Orioles would be making a playoff run, but here we are!</div>
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LET'S GO O's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-28946955402431608392012-09-28T19:00:00.003-04:002012-09-28T19:00:58.850-04:00bird bird bird...bird is the word: ravens edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There is no denying that we are a town that loves our football.</div>
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You can't go anywhere in the city in the fall without seeing Ravens purple somewhere...a bumper sticker...a flag....a jersey...a sign in a window. We just love our Ravens to bits and pieces.</div>
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It's more than just a game...it's a religion...it's an obsession...it's a way of life.</div>
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I've been to two games so far this year, the season opener on Sunday Night Football against the Bengals and last night's Thursday Night Football game against the Browns. Both were divisional games, and both games we won. Which is great because it allows us to sit atop our division early.</div>
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It's interesting, because I mentioned in one of my last posts about <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/09/super-sucktastic-september.html">how awful the month of September has been for me</a>, and it's funny because all of the bad stuff pretty much happened in the middle of the month, sandwiched between these two games. The Bengals game was the last bit of fun I had before the September sh*tshow, and as of yesterday my luck has seemingly taken a turn for the better. Not only the better, but the AWESOME.</div>
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So I wanted to go back and showcase my little slice of Ravensnation.</div>
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<strong>Week One - Ravens versus Bengals 7:00pm. Sunday Night Football</strong></div>
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Ravenswalk was packed</div>
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Tailgating was in progress</div>
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Mockery was made of opposing team mascots</div>
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And as the frenzied masses approached the glorious gates of M&T Bank Stadium, each touching Johnny U's foot for good luck,</div>
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clad in their war gear and war paint,</div>
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you could just feel the Primetime excitement.</div>
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The tents went up</div>
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the cheerleaders posed,</div>
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and as Oriole Park looked on in the distance, </div>
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the masses kept coming.</div>
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paying respects to The Golden Arm, who'd passed almost exactly ten years ago,</div>
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and the man who made it all possible in our city, who had passed only four days prior.</div>
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The players warmed up,</div>
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the signs went up,</div>
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and familiar faces showed up.</div>
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The band marched,</div>
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the flags were presented,</div>
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the bird took the field,</div>
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then the season began with a roar.</div>
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The most decorated Olympian of all time was welcomed by (arguably) the greatest middle linebacker of all time</div>
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the crowd was on their feet.</div>
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A flip of a coin,</div>
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a flyover,</div>
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and a snap of the ball,</div>
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the battle began.</div>
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We cheered the Ravens' success,</div>
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and celebrated the defeat of our arch-nemesis.</div>
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Kerri was with me, a rare moment when both of us were <strong>kid-free</strong> and <strong>together</strong>. Which is a treat in and of itself, even if a game is not involved. This alone is cause for celebration.</div>
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And, of course, we won. <strong>13-44</strong> to be exact.</div>
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Then the next couple craptastic weeks happened. But amidst the stress and annoyances, I got a text from my old buddy Emanuelle. She and I (and Kerri too) had worked together in the restaurant years before, and two years ago she had moved out to Hawaii, on the very same island as my friends Donna and Jamie.</div>
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She told me she would be home for a few weeks at the end of the month. We must get together. Even better, we decided to go to the Ravens game together in week four.</div>
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It was nice to have something to look forward to among my month of misery.</div>
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And thankfully the blessed day came--yesterday. My bad bad luck has apparently taken a turn (finally!) and some great, wonderful things are coming my way--including a visit from my sweet Emanuelle!</div>
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And as it always is when I hang out with this fun and freespirited friend of mine, the unexpected and wonderful happened.</div>
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So here we go...</div>
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<strong>Week Three - Ravens versus Browns 8:20pm. Thursday Night Football</strong>
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Pre-celebratory glasses of champagne started our night off properly.
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So excited to welcome my sweet friend back home after a two year absence!</div>
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And when it was time to head to the stadium, beers in styrofoam carry out cups...good friends don't let you leave empty-handed, afterall.
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And the next thing I knew...it was suggested that we take "the limo" to the game.</div>
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(Life Lesson #987,234,835: when someone offers to provide limo service for you, don't ask how, where, why, or who. Just agree, smile politely and say, "well that's a lovely idea, thanks for offering. Now we won't have to pay for parking." The End.)</div>
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Don't ask how. I'm still not entirely sure myself. But somehow a limo showed up.</div>
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And it was just for us.</div>
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Well, us and our styrofoam cups... (klassie!)</div>
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And as we walked through Camden Yards, en route to M&T Bank, we stopped for an Orioles photo op,</div>
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oh, and the actual Oriole BIRD, moonlighting as a Ravens fan.</div>
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And as we got closer and closer to the gates of the Bank, Manee got a little overwhelmed with all the familiar sights and sounds of being home.</div>
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The game kicked-off in similar fashion, with fireworks and fanfare.</div>
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And Baltimore was happy to welcome it's ex-pat home.</div>
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And once again, the Ravens won. <strong>16-23.</strong>
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The Ravens are 3-1, after playing a grueling 4 games in 17 days. Comparatively, I'm <em>finally</em> on the upswing after a grueling 3 weeks of life craziness.
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It's so nice to know that despite years going by, motherhood, and moves of more than 5000 miles, I can still turn my brain off and have a few hours of FUN enjoying our Ravens, one of the common bonds that brings us all together, with these girls NOW
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just like we did back THEN:</div>
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GO RAVENS!</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-45068993697666460012012-09-27T15:38:00.000-04:002012-09-27T15:39:00.736-04:00phursday phavorite photo: phursday night football!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ray Lewis rallies the troops.</div>
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This picture was taken from my section at M&T Bank Stadium on opening night, Monday September 10th. Since then, my boys have played three games, two of those in prime time, plus one more prime game tonight. That's 4 games in 17 days for those who aren't counting. Tough!</div>
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I have to admit, tonight almost feels like a re-start of the season, even though it's technically not (sorry Green Bay). ReplacementRefGate of 2012 is over, and we can get on with real, as fair as possible football.</div>
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I never thought I'd be so excited to see real NFL officials on the field as I am today....</div>
Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-32742455902284332082012-09-24T18:01:00.001-04:002012-09-24T18:01:38.277-04:00super sucktastic september<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
September is usually one of my favorite months.<br />
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I love the tail end of summer that transitions to crisp autumn air in September. I love the start of a new school year, and all the excitement that brings. I love new extracurricular activities for Sadira. My mom's birthday. Labor Day weekend...there are always lots of things to look forward to in September.<br />
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Except this year.<br />
<br />
This September has sucked in a major way.<br />
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This is the story of how September handed me my ass on a silver platter.<br />
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It always seems like when it rains it pours. When one thing goes awry, it's inevitable that everything else is going to go poorly as well, just for good measure. And I am the Queen of Murphy's Law...if there's any possibility of something happening that technically "shouldn't" happen, it will still happen to me. It's just the way it works.<br />
<br />
September started off great enough...we went to Legally Blonde at the dinner theater for Mom and Sutton's birthdays and that was a ton of fun. The Orioles are having their best season in years, so fall baseball in Baltimore is actually <em>relevant</em> for once. Not to mention the Ravens held a phenomenal season opener, blowing the Bengals out of the water.<br />
<br />
But there were other but so fun things that have happened.<br />
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<br />
Work has been stressful in a way its never been before. Sadie's school year began and it felt impossible to keep up. Brian had to leave town for a week to go back to Ohio for a funeral, which is horrible enough, but left me with no back up or extra set of hands. Then while he was away, I got into a car accident. I was without my car for a few weeks. During that time my phone completely died. I got an unexpected tax bill from the State of Maryland...there was a mix up ..their mistake, but now I owed them more money. To the tune of <strike>several</strike> many hundreds of dollars. Then I got sick. Then other people around me got sick. Then I had to pay for said car accident and tax bill and broken phone.<br />
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I mean seriously it was one thing after another...my life was starting to feel like the Book of Job.<br />
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<br />I didn't blog as much, I didn't exercise as much, I didn't sleep as much. These things that are therapeutic to me I no longer had time or energy for. <br />
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And while none of these things are earth shattering by themselves, when piled one on top of the other on top of the other, it starts to feel overwhelming. Beyond overwhelming. Insurmountable.<br />
<br />
And with no back up or outlet I felt off-kilter. Unbalanced. Like a top that is spinning and then starts to go off its axis, spinning about wildly.<br />
<br />
That's exactly how I felt. Spinning around, trying to get myself upright again.<br />
<br />
And then there were emails, phone calls, text, messages...all from people who didn't MEAN to make me feel crazy, but just did...simply by the fact they they were asking me, "Can you...?" "Do you...?" "Have you...?" "Are you..." It felt like a million and one questions, none of which I could answer or keep up with. Everyone needed something for me that I couldn't give or provide. None I even wanted to deal with. Inquiries. Follow ups. Invitations. Requests. <br />
<br />
And I seriously just wanted to scream at everyone, "I'M HAVING A SERIES OF CRISES, CAN YOU ALL PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR A FEW MINUTES?"<br />
<br />
And when I would talk about it, I'd get the unsolicted advice or a lecture. "You really just need to say no to people." "You know what you need to do Nas, you need to slow down." "If you keep this up, you're going to make yourself sick."<br />
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<em>Keep this up? Oh you mean, keep up with my daily responsibilities of getting my kid to school and getting to work? Cause that's honestly what I'm having a hard time doing. Yeah thanks, I'll keep that in mind.</em><br />
<br />
I did have friends who understood reach out. Kerri, offered to help with anything I needed. From picking up Sadie from school when Brian was out of town, to offering to drive me back to the repair shop to get my car. She just understands me. One Saturday night Sandi just said, "let me keep Sadie tonight," and it honestly felt like she said, "let me give you a million dollars," because THAT'S how helpful that was in that moment.<br />
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And you know what I did? I stayed home and slept. Cause I desperately needed to.<br />
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Because when you feel like that, everything just becomes another chore or task. Things that you once would've enjoyed become another thing on the To Do List. And I'm not talking a fun, "30 Before 30" To Do List, I'm talking about the "Things that suck but I have to do them because I am an adult" To Do List.<br />
<br />
Things just kep spinning more and more out of control.<br />
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And its become imperative that I STOP. <br />
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<br />
About two weeks ago, in the midst of this life crisis, I had to go to a work lunch. We were out for Chinese and I opened my fortune cookie and this is what it said:<br />
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And I seriously thought to myself, "Fortune cookie, are you being sarcastic? Cause I have been decidedly NOT cheerful in my outlook this entire month..."</div>
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And my co-worker said as kindly as possible, "well, yeah, that's you MOST of the time...just not recently..."</div>
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So I'm taking back September. I'm stopping. I'm getting off this ride. I'm not passing go, not collecting 100 dollars. I'm done. September, you've had my number for three weeks now and I'm over it. I'm finally FINALLY feeling like I'm getting my head above water, and I'd like to keep it that way. I've had some great, fantastic, wonderful opportunities come my way recently and I'm not going to let them pass me by due to a sucky attitude or negative outlook.</div>
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So there you have it. Super sucktastic September can find someone else to pick on.</div>
Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-40938591707971189562012-09-19T00:18:00.002-04:002012-09-19T00:18:36.393-04:00ravensvision<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Attend an outdoor movie night - DONE! </div>
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Living in Baltimore City there are lots of opportunities to attend an outdoor movie night in the summer.</div>
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In Federal Hill there are the Flicks on the Hill at the American Visionary Arts museum on Thursday nights.</div>
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In Little Italy there is the Cinema al Fresco series on Friday nights.</div>
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In Fells Point there are the Films on the Pier on Wednesday nights. </div>
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Charles Village, Johns Hopkins campus...the opportunities go on and on. Apparently in Charm City we just love an outdoor movie.</div>
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But one of our FAVORITE movie nights has got to be the Ravens Rookies movie night on the field at M&T Bank stadium. For the bargain basement price of $6, you get to camp out on the field and watch a movie from the jumbotrons. </div>
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There are also autograph sessions, locker room tours, meet and greets with the mascot and cheerleaders, and tons of other kid-geared fun.</div>
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To top it all off, this year's movie was The Lorax, one of Sadira's FAVORITE movies of this year.</div>
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We were excited to go.</div>
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Even better, two of Sadie's BFFs met us there--Sean and Olivia :-)</div>
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Before the movie started we played on the field and ran some drills...<br />
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We paid our respects to Art Modell...<br />
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And spelled my name out of Ravens' letters :-)</div>
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(Come on, you know it's cool... Lucky Sean can spell his name in Ravens letters too) :-)</div>
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Then the movie started...</div>
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And the whole time I kept thinking how this year the experience of watching a movie on the field was so different from the last time we came, two years ago when the kids were 2 (almost 3) years old.</div>
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Last time we could barely get them to sit still. They were more content to run and chase each other around the field. I don't think they even remember what movie we saw. </div>
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This time, I couldn't pry Sadira's eyes away. She didn't even want to tour the locker room because she didn't want to miss a moment.</div>
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So different. </div>
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So of course after I came home and uploaded the pictures I had to take a look and compare to 2010:</div>
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Greeting each other then: </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dTa3VAGof3Q/UFlFHR29qQI/AAAAAAAAZd8/-hroQAj_bHg/s1600/SadieSean10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dTa3VAGof3Q/UFlFHR29qQI/AAAAAAAAZd8/-hroQAj_bHg/s400/SadieSean10.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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And now:</div>
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Posing with the S (for Sadira) then:</div>
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And now:</div>
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Sadie and me then:</div>
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And now:</div>
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And saving my personal favorite for last...</div>
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Watching the movie, deep in thought, then:</div>
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<br />And now:</div>
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Wow.</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-3985771855065527572012-09-15T21:51:00.000-04:002012-09-15T22:45:46.718-04:00a very johnston weekend part deux<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Go to the farmer's market - DONE!</i></div>
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<i>Spend a whole day at Annie's Playground - DONE! </i></div>
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So a few weeks ago my friend Kim contacted me about getting our girls together. In typical KJR fashion I got the following text:<br />
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<i>"Hey darlin, how about we pick a day and head to the Farmers' Market followed up by some Annie's Playground in the afternoon? I know a few Johnston girls that would love to hang out!"</i><br />
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And just like that my friend Kim figured out how to knock a few more items off of <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">the summer list</a> together with our girls. The funny thing is, the two things she suggested doing were two of the remaining summer list "to do's" that we didn't have upcoming plans already set to do. In other words, her plan was perfect.<br />
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The last time Kim and I hung out, <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/very-johnston-weekend.html">we spent a weekend together and had a blast with the girls</a> tearing through the summer list tasks. <br />
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I had a sneaky suspicion that this time would not be different...even better, her sister Katie (Sadie's BFF) was flying home from Arizona the night before and would be in town to hang out with us.<br />
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Perfection!<br />
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First stop was the Farmer's Market. There are several farmer's markets in Baltimore City, but this was one of the biggest--and the one that I hadn't already been to (we normally go to the Waverly Farmer's Market). So we set off for downtown and managed to squeeze into a parking spot under the JFX.<br />
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Did I mention it was right under the highway? Cause yeah, it really is. </div>
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Saw this and thought of my friend <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/bingo_25.htmlhttp://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/bingo_25.html">Amanda.</a> </div>
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Love these: </div>
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Getting our apple on: </div>
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Sadie's mini-melon: </div>
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Where else can you get peacock feathers for a dollar? </div>
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Dangerously Delicious pies! </div>
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"Skadie" sharing a moment: </div>
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We even found this awesome Orioles' headband! </div>
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And then the best part...a hula hooping contest before we left. </div>
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(Showoff): </div>
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This is the part where I reveal I spent the whole day with Kim while she wore a Ben Roethelisberger jersey...yep, that's how much I love her! hahaha</div>
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Apparently one must hula hoop at the Farmer's Market. Who knew?<br />
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After that we got on the road and went to Annie's Playground...this playground is GIANT. And has a bittersweet story attached to it.<br />
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See? This place is huge!</div>
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Don't our children looked thrilled?</div>
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(Just kidding, they loved it) </div>
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LOVE this pic of Kim and Natalie...even if she HAS to be in that wretched jersey. ;-)</div>
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(Saying bye to Katie is always tough. Had to sneak in some extra snuggles...) </div>
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It was perfect weather and a great day. Just what I needed after a horrible, stressful, terrible work week. Pretty much everything went wrong last week, it was nice to have a weekend where everything went right.</div>
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Can't wait for our pumpkin farm date in the fall, Johnston ladies!!!</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-4408329945209377822012-09-13T11:04:00.004-04:002012-09-13T11:04:58.430-04:00phursday phavorite photo: striped pony-tailed sweetness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We got to hang out with <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/very-johnston-weekend.html">the Johnston girls</a> again this weekend, and per usual, had a ball. We crossed two more items off our <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">summer list</a>, and Sadie got some quality time in with her BFF Katie (more on that to come).</div>
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After our fun filled morning, we came home to Kim's house and hung out before having dinner. This sweet moment happened shortly after Miss Natalie Jane woke up from her nap. I think Sadie missed her while she was sleeping.</div>
Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-6786449569704530052012-09-11T13:11:00.001-04:002012-09-11T13:12:21.054-04:00remembering...again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Eleven years ago today it was a beautiful Tuesday morning, much like today. I was getting ready to meet my friend Missa in Genetics lab and I was running a bit late (per usual) when my phone started ringing off the hook. It was my mom. I ignored the first call, since I was trying to get out the door, but when the phone persisted I picked up.<br />
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My mom's voice was panic-stricken, "We're under attack. Do you have to work today? Don't go. Don't go downtown today. Don't go anywhere! Stay on campus until we know what's going on."<br />
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"What are you talking about?"<br />
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She was frantic, "turn on the TV! A plane flew into the World Trade Center!"<br />
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At first I thought she meant Baltimore's World Trade Center, since she had told me not to go downtown. I turned on the TV expecting to see that a small Cessna or something similar had hit the building downtown.<br />
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Obviously that is not what I saw. I tuned in just after the second plane had hit, and like every other American I was glued to the TV from that moment on, watching in horror as the buildings crumbled, wishing and hoping that what I was witnessing wasn't really happening. Wanting more than anything to have super power abilities and to be able to hold those buildings back up.<br />
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The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. I remember walking over to Loyola's campus. Many of my friends there were from the NY/NJ area, and I just felt like I needed to be there, with them. Many had family members working in the city, and spent hours on the phone, dialing and re-dialing desperate to get through, but hearing only a busy signal.<br />
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It was awful.<br />
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Last year, on the 10th anniversary, it seemed like you couldn't turn on the TV for a second without watching that replay of the buildings falling. I hate watching it again and again. It seems so unfair to the families of the people who lost their lives that day. I would hate to watch the moment one of my loved ones perished.<br />
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But just because I don't ever want to re-live that day or that moment, doesn't mean I don't want to remember it.<br />
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Last year I wrote<a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2011/10/conversations-with-my-three-year-old.html"> this blog post</a> about how I explained 9/11 to Sadira. She was curious. She's not the kind of child that is satisfied with the answer, "I'll tell you when you're older." I have to find a way to age-appropriately explain these tough things to her. Because even though she wasn't alive when it happened, I want her to remember that it happened.<br />
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In February of this year, my friend Sandi and I took Sadie and her daughter Olivia to New York, and we got to visit the new 9/11 Memorial for the first time. It was breathtaking, heartbreaking, and serene all at the same time. And I wrote <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/02/remembering.html">this blog post</a>, aptly titled "remembering."<br />
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Last weekend, when Sadie and I <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/09/that-time-we-crashed-grand-prix.html">trucked downtown for the Grand Prix</a>, we watched from the Observation Deck on the top of the World Trade Center, Baltimore. The very building I <i>thought</i> my mother was talking about when she called me shortly after the South Tower in NYC was struck.<br />
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In the front of the building is a large marble slab. Atop the marble sits a large piece of one of the towers. Twisted and mangled, it serves as physical evidence of what happened. A means to remember.<br />
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Etched into the slab is a timeline of the events of 9/11/01.<br />
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And when you arrive to the 27th floor, observation level, there is a memorial to all of the Marylanders who lost their lives on 9/11/01.<br />
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When I think of 9/11 my heart aches for New York. It's a city I love, have spent much time in, and the loss of life and devastation was immeasurable. But I'm glad we have this Memorial here in Baltimore, at our own World Trade Center. Something to remind us that this tragedy affects every single American, regardless of what state, city, suburb they live in.<br />
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It's important for us to remember. <br />
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And it's important for my state to honor to 68 people who called Maryland home, and to let their families know, we will remember.<br />
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<br />Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-91528385734220887672012-09-10T12:55:00.000-04:002012-09-10T13:29:59.255-04:00take a walk through my neighborhood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So as I mentioned in my last post, Sadira and I went on a <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/09/that-time-we-crashed-grand-prix.html">long training walk last weekend</a>, though I'm not training for anything this year. Last year I was preparing for the Susan G. Koman 3Day for the Cure walk (more on that in another post) and had to practice walking freakishly long distances in all kinds of weather in preparation for my 60 miles in 3 days adventure.<br />
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(This proved very helpful when on the first day of 3Day it poured and poured and rained and poured.)<br />
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In a strange sort of masochistic way, though, these training walks started to be really fun and I got to enjoy them more and more. Mostly becuase we were walking through the city, through little neighborhoods that I knew and loved, but never had the time to thoughtfully explore. <br />
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And I'll tell you, it's amazing how some place you drive through every day looks completely different when you take to the street.<br />
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Our usual route is about 10 miles roundtrip and looks like this:<br />
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But sometimes we got a little crazy and walked all the way to Fort McHenry and back (17 miles roundtrip).</div>
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That sh*t cray.</div>
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The coolest thing about these walks (other than getting my training in) was taking in all the sights I've seemingly driven right past before. </div>
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When we were putting together our <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">Summer List</a>, one of the things Sadira wanted to put on it was "walk from our house to Federal Hill and back."</div>
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So we did.</div>
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Here's a set of my favorite photos from last weekend's walk. Come take a walk through my neighborhood:</div>
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I have so many photos that I love from these walks. Tons more from last year's training walks that I want to post. Just to have them documented somewhere. Little pieces of our day to day life, right now.</div>
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Hopefully I can get around to that one of these days...</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-27595172373813848332012-09-01T22:48:00.000-04:002012-09-01T22:48:35.640-04:00that time we crashed the grand prix<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Crashed" is probably not the best choice of words when talking about the Grand Prix, but I don't mean it in those terms. I mean in terms of like a wedding crasher. Meaning, we don't have tickets, so we weren't technically invited but we found a way to go and have fun...twice!<br />
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Last year around this time I was knee-deep in my training for the Susan G. Komen 3-day walk. We were regularly walking (and by walking I mean me walking and pushing Sadie in the stroller) from our house in Bayview to downtown and back. Sometimes these walks would be 14-16 miles roundtrip, and sometimes they closer to 18 miles roundtrip (more on that in another post).<br />
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I liked to do these long training walks on long weekends...so holiday weekends were perfect, cause I could enjoy and relax on Saturday, do the long walk on Sunday, and then have off Monday to rest and recuperate.<br />
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So last year on Labor Day weekend was a perfect choice for a training walk, with just three weekend left til my big walk.<br />
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It turned out that the Grand Prix was going on downtown that weekend as well. Streets were blocked off, traffic patterns were changed, locals were freaking out about the influx of people in an area of town that is already known for having traffic issues.<br />
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In other words, everyone planned on avoiding downtown like the plague.<br />
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Since we were walking, I wasn't worried. If it got too congested, we could just turn around and come home. The point of the day was to get a training walk in. If we could make it to the see any races, that would be an added bonus.<br />
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We started out around 11am. Got downtown just in time to grab some lunch and a snack.<br />
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I soon heard that the BIG race was going to be at 2:30pm. I had gotten the idea to go up to the Top of the World Trade Center observation deck to watch it. When we got to the lobby, I asked what the prices were.<br />
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"$20 for all day accessibility, $5 for an hour pass, $3 for kids 3-12, under three years old are free."<br />
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I told them we wanted two tickets.<br />
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"How old is she?" the lady asked.<br />
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I couldn't lie. Sadira would call me out so fast if I even attempted.<br />
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"She's three," I told her.<br />
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The lady looked at Sadie and said, "well today she's under three, okay?"<br />
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My kinda lady! Thank you!<br />
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So up to the 27th floor we went. It was absolutely perfect for watching the race. We timed it so our hour was from 2:15-3:15. Since this was the BIG race of the weekend, they were broadcasting it over the radio, and it was playing over the speakers. So not only did we get a bird's eye view for the cool price of $5 total, we also got a play by play.<br />
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Plus, I was a bit concerned about the noise level. Afterall, this IS the kids who <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/4th-of-july-f-word.html">hates fireworks</a>. So going up to the observation deck was perfect because it saved our ears from the the running engines. <br />
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Here are some pics from the race last year:<br />
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(Sadira made a friend)</div>
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So it was on our summer list to take long training walk again this year, even though I'm not training for anything. As the sweltering summer progressed, and we still hadn't knocked this item off the list, I thought it might be fun to take a trip down for the Grand Prix again.<br />
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Tomorrow is the BIG race, but we have plans tomorrow. So I checked the website and found out they were still running races today. So at noon today we set off for downtown, and I guess I was in the racing spirit, because we made it record time: under 1 hour 30 minutes!<br />
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We decided that going up to the Top of the World observation deck worked so well last year, we wanted to do it again this year. Sadly for me, I ended up having to pay the kid's price for Sadira. Our admission to watch the race from above cost us a whopping $8. <br />
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I don't know if it was because the BIG race isn't until tomorrow, or if it was because everyone was so freaked out about going downtown that they stayed away, but it was DESERTED down there. Granted there were people there to watch the race, but by "Inner-Harbor-during-the-summer-on-the-weekend" standards, it was a ghost town.<br />
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Which meant we could pretty much do whatever we wanted.<br />
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Except actually go on the grand stands.<br />
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So just to recap, the ONLY thing you can't do if you don't have a ticket during Grand Prix weekend is actually go in the grand stands. This year Sadira even got adventurous and we went right up the the fence as the cars zipped by for the 4:30 race. We also decided to have dinner outside at M&S Grille, right below the grand stands. <br />
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It was so slow down there that we were our waiter's only table. <br />
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Which made me feel not guilty about only ordering a soup and salad and taking up his table!<br />
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Honestly, if we hadn't already planned on walking down, I think I could've just driven all the way down to the harbor and parked in one of the garages. THAT'S how un-crowded it was.<br />
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Here are some pics from the race this year:<br />
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(Sadie made a friend again.) </div>
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(Eating dinner next to the grand stands.)</div>
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Sadira got irritated at the end, because everytime she tried to tell a story, one of the loudest cars would race by. But overall she was a lot bolder than last year. </div>
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It got pretty funny.</div>
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It was a very fun day with my girl (both times).</div>
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And THAT is how we successfully party crashed the Grand Prix. </div>
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Twice. :-) </div>
<br />Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-37990827493195028582012-08-30T20:05:00.001-04:002012-08-30T20:05:33.158-04:00phursday phavorite photo: first day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sadira's first day of Pre-K4! She was so excited for school. Couldn't wait to go and even woke up early. I hope she always has this enthusiasm for school. It definitely helps that she truly loves her school, friends, and teachers. We definitely made the right decision when it came to schools!<br />
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For comparison here's a picture of her first day of school last year. <br />
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I doubt she'll let me take this pic on the first day of school when she's in 7th grade....<br />
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<br />Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-52545811030018485412012-08-29T00:21:00.001-04:002012-08-29T10:39:47.214-04:00summer list update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We've knocked a few more off the list... 36 down, 14 to go!</div>
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And for the record, I'm totally giving us til summer "officially" ends on September 21st to complete our list. It's only fair, after all.</div>
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<li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/feelin-hot-hot-hot.html">Go for a ride on the Seadog</a></strike></li>
<li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">Go to Sailabration</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">See the Blue Angels</a> </strike></li>
<li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/bma-zing.html"><strike>Attend a Free Family Sunday at the </strike><strike>BMA</strike></a></li>
<li><strike>Check out the Mr. Potato Head exhibit at </strike><a href="http://www.portdiscovery.org/"><strike>Port Discovery</strike></a></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/very-johnston-weekend.html">Have a water balloon fight</a></strike></li>
<li>Walk from our house to Federal Hill and back</li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/truckin-through-our-summer-list.html">Feed ducks</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">Eat a snowball from Walther Gardens </a></strike></li>
<li>Read 100 books (Sadira)</li>
<li>Read 10 books (Nasrene) <i>I guess we can see who the overachiever is in this family. </i> </li>
<li><strike>Go bowling</strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/feelin-hot-hot-hot.html">Make homemade ice cream</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/eighteen-downa-lot-to-go.html">Go to a drive in movie at Bengies</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">Eat steamed crabs!!!</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/very-johnston-weekend.html">Build a sandcastle</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/truckin-through-our-summer-list.html">Go on a picnic </a></strike></li>
<li>Attend an outdoor movie night</li>
<li><strike>Ride the dragon boats at the harbor</strike></li>
<li>Take a tour of <a href="http://baltimore.orioles.mlb.com/bal/ballpark/tours.jsp">Camden Yards</a></li>
<li><strike>Visit <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/feelin-hot-hot-hot.html">Pierce's Park and West Shore Park</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/truckin-through-our-summer-list.html">Cookout </a></strike></li>
<li>Make a robot</li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">Eat a funnel cake</a> </strike></li>
<li>Go to the farmer's market</li>
<li>Do a service project for the community</li>
<li>Go to the zoo</li>
<li><strike>Visit <a href="http://www.stadiumplayground.org/about.php">Our Playground at Stadium Place </a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/feelin-hot-hot-hot.html">Go to a water park</a></strike></li>
<li>Spend a whole day at <a href="http://www.anniesplayground.net/">Annie's Playground</a></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">Catch lightening bugs</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/eighteen-downa-lot-to-go.html">Make it through all four ballet recitals</a></strike></li>
<li>Go roller skating</li>
<li><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/truckin-through-our-summer-list.html"><strike>Make Cherry Blossom art</strike> </a></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/4th-of-july-f-word.html">Make flour stars for the 4th of July</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/eighteen-downa-lot-to-go.html">Glowsticks in the bathtub</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/eighteen-downa-lot-to-go.html">Make a ballet recital shadowbox</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/truckin-through-our-summer-list.html">Make frozen yogurt strawberries </a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/once-in-blue-moon.html">Study the phases of the moon...using Oreos </a></strike></li>
<li>Go swimming at Sandy Point State Park</li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">Get faces painted</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/truckin-through-our-summer-list.html">Play sidewalk chalk </a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/eighteen-downa-lot-to-go.html">See Brave at the movies</a></strike></li>
<li>Plant a garden</li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/eighteen-downa-lot-to-go.html">Dinner at By The Docks</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/very-johnston-weekend.html">Go to the ocean</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/08/truckin-through-our-summer-list.html">Ride bikes </a></strike></li>
<li>Spend a day at the Fort</li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/eighteen-downa-lot-to-go.html">Get matching pedicures</a></strike></li>
<li><strike><a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/07/this-is-birdland.html">Run the bases at Camden Yards </a> </strike></li>
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5. Check out the Mr. Potato Head exhibit at Port Discovery<br />
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12. Go bowling<br />
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We went to the historic Patterson Bowling Center. It's the oldest operating duckpin bowling alley in the nation! </div>
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19. Ride the dragon boats at the harbor</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-76056370072111111292012-08-27T19:49:00.003-04:002012-08-27T19:55:57.608-04:00bma-zing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Summer List Item #4 - Attend a free family Sunday at the BMA - DONE!</i></div>
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Notice my favorite word up there??</div>
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FREE!</div>
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So I threw this item on our <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2012/06/100th-post.html">summer list</a>, because I hoped it would be fun, free, interesting, free, educational, free, and a way for Sadira to gain appreciation of the arts.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">And it was free.</span><br />
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The <a href="http://www.artbma.org/">Baltimore Museum of Art</a> (or BMA as its more affectionately known around here) is located on the grounds of the Johns Hopkins University campus, not too far from where my own alma mater is situated.<br />
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I've been wanting to take Sadira for awhile...but I wanted her to enjoy it, and not think that it was boring. And let's be honest, when you're a kid, the museum is BOOORRRING. I didn't really gain an appreciation for museums and the fine arts until I was seventeen, and visiting the Musee D'Orsay in Paris for the first time. Sure I loved going to art class, and I loved doing arts and crafts, but I never had any interest in taking the time to sit down and look at a piece of art and try to understand the message the artist was trying to convey.<br />
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So when I heard of these <a href="http://www.artbma.org/families/sundays.html">free family sundays</a> at the BMA where they have workshops, tours and activities geared towards families (which really means KIDS), I threw it on the list.<br />
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But our Sundays this summer have felt PACKED, and I couldn't seem to find the time to fit a museum trip into our schedule.<br />
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Until the weekend.<br />
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Sadie had spent the night at my grandmother's house on Saturday night, and I picked her up Sunday afternoon. We soon realized that the day was going to be overcast with rain showers off and on...<br />
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...perfect museum day!<br />
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We arrived for the 2pm tour.<br />
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The tour guides explained that today's tour would focus on indoor and outdoor sculpture. They provided the kids with a "Museum Search" worksheet and challenged them to see how many sculptures on the sheet they could find.</div>
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Of course this made Sadira's ears perk up. Some kind of competition? My girl's in. </div>
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And like most children her age do, she quickly made friends.</div>
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The first stop was Auguste Rodin's <i>Man Tebow'ing</i>. I mean, <i>The Thinker</i>. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Seriously though, why didn't I get a photo of myself Tebow'ing next to this guy??!! It's virtually identical!)</span></div>
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The tour guide talked about how this sculpture was made from a cast, so there are several other replicas of it around the world. We talked about the inspiration for the piece, and then he asked the kids what they thought the man was thinking.</div>
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There were many creative answers.</div>
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Next stop was this lovely lady, <i>The Serpentine,</i> by Henri Matisse:</div>
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We talked about how this lady is a thinker too, but this sculpture conveys a much different feeling than the other one. We learned about the negative space between her body and the pillar she's leaning on. And how, although there is no metal there, that space still makes up a vital part of the sculpture.</div>
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We did a short activity comparing the shapes in <i>The Thinker</i> to the shapes in <i>The Serpentine</i>, using photocopied puzzles. </div>
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Next up was Sadira's personal favorite, Alberto Giacometti's <i>Man Pointing</i>. Our guides gave us pipe cleaners and challenged the kids to sculpt their own "man pointing."</div>
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Our collection of activities thus far:</div>
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Next came the most exciting part for me...Edgar Degas' <i>Little Dancer</i>:</div>
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I have loved Degas' work since I literally ran face first into his exhibit in the Louvre in 1998. I was so happy to see it once again.</div>
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And thrilled that Sadira appeared to be a fan, just like her Mama:</div>
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After a little more Degas:</div>
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And a little discussion about these two:</div>
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And one more activity (this time learning about how one dimensional flat paper can turn into a three dimensional sculpture - in this case, a pyramid):</div>
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Our tour was finished. That's when the unheard of happened....</div>
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Sadira looked at me and said, </div>
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"Can we stay longer, Mommy?"</div>
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<i>Say Whaaaaa???</i></div>
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"You really like learning about art, Sade?" I asked her.</div>
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"I love it."</div>
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And so we stayed at the musuem...for <i>three more hours.</i></div>
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FIRST, we discovered that we could borrow a museum costume. They had special dress-ups, that could only be used in the museum, but allowed you to dress up as your favorite work of art.</div>
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Naturally Sadira chose the Degas dancer outfit. So we had to go back and take another photo with her:</div>
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SECOND we picked up some audio headsets...which came with a separate setting for Families (Read: KIDS) and gave interesting stories and information about select pieces of art throughout the museum.</div>
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This became Sadira's goal for the afternoon...find all of the artwork that had a story for her:</div>
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I love this photo of her carefully studying Anthony van Dyke's <i>Rinaldo and Armida</i>...even if it's only a pic from my crappy cell phone camera:</div>
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We met Monet:</div>
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And Picasso:</div>
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And really fell in love with the colors used by Matisse.</div>
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Sadira's favorite, <i>Interior with Dog:</i></div>
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And my favorite, <i>Purple Robe and Anemones:</i></div>
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But what shocked me the most was that Sadira's absoute favorite genre was abstract art. And her number one favorite painting was this omnious painting by Joan Miro:</div>
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I think she enjoyed that she could see so many different shapes in the painting. And while we think it's a painting of a woman, there are so many other shapes within the portrait. We listened to the description on the headset.</div>
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When it was all over Sadira said, "I love that one so much, Mommy, can I listen to it again?"</div>
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And so she did.</div>
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And then just as we were about to leave, we saw this plaque...a story of a woman named Saidie May:</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0X6L4wMtwDw/UDvdIUb6JQI/AAAAAAAAY6Y/fDAR5DQ3cBQ/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0X6L4wMtwDw/UDvdIUb6JQI/AAAAAAAAY6Y/fDAR5DQ3cBQ/s400/016.JPG" width="266" yda="true" /></a></div>
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Some lines from the plaque:</div>
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<i>"Saidie Adler May (1879-1951) grew up in Baltimore and became one of the Baltimore Museum of Art's most generous donors. Her father was a shoe manufacturer who had made a considerable fortune, enabling her to pursue her interest in the arts and philanthropy. </i></div>
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<i>She amassed hundreds of Egyptian, Gothic, and Renaissance objects which were donated to the Baltimore Museum of Art after she closed her New York apartment in 1938. Following her divorce in 1928, Saidie continued to pursue her art studies in Paris where she met young painter Alfred Jensen. Together the two travelled throughout Europe and America, always eager to learn more about historic and contemporary art.</i></div>
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<i>In her last year, she spent most of her time in California and South Carolina, no longer travelling to Europe. Still, she continued to keep in touch with the New York gallery scene. Due to Saidie A. May's interest in acquiring the latest works by European and American painters, her bequest assured the Baltimore Museum of Art a front rank in the presentation of twentieth-century art."</i></div>
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Well, you could bet Sadira was thrilled about this news. Another Sadie, and she DONATED A BUNCH OF THE ART?!?!</div>
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She wanted a picture with Saidie May:</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kt7-5dkajmU/UDwER1SyquI/AAAAAAAAY6w/2IZTIBG4uvg/s1600/071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kt7-5dkajmU/UDwER1SyquI/AAAAAAAAY6w/2IZTIBG4uvg/s640/071.JPG" width="425" /> </a></div>
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When we finally left, we were starving. </div>
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So it seemed appropriate that after a day of studying sculpture and art, we had dinner at the Paper Moon Diner, which is filled with crazy sculpture and art:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FC_Gb4nMqjo/UDwFCcm-IuI/AAAAAAAAY64/9jk24UXIxzg/s1600/084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FC_Gb4nMqjo/UDwFCcm-IuI/AAAAAAAAY64/9jk24UXIxzg/s640/084.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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It's also the best place to play I-Spy. :-)</div>
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Finally, when we came home, Sadie decided to top off our sculpture day by making sculpture out of Play-Doh:</div>
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My sculpture:</div>
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Sadie's sculpture:</div>
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At the end of the day, Sadie declared that this was her FAVORITE thing we've done so far on our Summer List.</div>
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And all this time I thought it would be boring to her.</div>
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Clearly, I have no idea.</div>
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Nasrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07755443040941025840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2904273158069056642.post-64099872698064238082012-08-25T17:11:00.003-04:002012-08-25T17:12:25.496-04:00for the birds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We live in Birdland.</div>
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In Baltimore we split out fandom between our baseball team and our football team.</div>
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In the spring and summer, it's all about the Orioles. In the fall and the winter we are dedicated to the Ravens.</div>
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I once saw a billboard that said, "We bleed orange in summer and purple in winter. It's weird."</div>
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It's funny, but so true.</div>
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It's convenient that the stadiums are right next to each other. It makes it easier for the Birdland faithful to make their pilgrimage.</div>
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Here's a shot I took from the air when I was <a href="http://nasrene30before30.blogspot.com/2011/03/view-from-above.html">in the helicopter</a>: </div>
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This time of year is that very special time when the teams' schedules overlap. The Orioles are winding down their season as the Ravens are starting theirs up.</div>
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Usually the Ravens are a welcome distraction from whatever slump the Orioles have gotten themselves into over the course of the spring and summer. It's a well known fact that the Ravens have been infinitely more successful in their sixteen years here so far than the Orioles have in the past sixteen years. In fact, since 1996 the Ravens have gone to the playoffs eight times, while the Orioles have only made the postseason once.</div>
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HOWEVER, this year the Orioles are actually having a great season! So instead of drowning our Orioles' sorrows by downing beers at a Raven's tailgate, we are actually excited about BOTH teams...at the same time!</div>
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This past Thursday night Sadira and I had plans to go to the Ravens preseason game against the Jags. We were very much looking forward to it, since this was our first Ravens game of the season.</div>
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During work on Thursday, my friend Leah won four tickets to the Orioles game against the Blue Jays on Friday night. Leah generously offered Sadira and I two of her tickets. Of course we couldn't say no!</div>
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Back to back nights.</div>
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Back to back games.</div>
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Back to back birds.</div>
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That's how we do in Birdland!</div>
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Thursday night:</div>
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Friday night:</div>
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Here's to hoping 2012 really IS the...</div>
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