tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40268562411989290992024-03-13T10:00:53.506-07:00And Then There Were ThreeTalie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.comBlogger380125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-26851915000678572082013-11-30T09:26:00.000-08:002013-11-30T09:26:39.149-08:00We've Moved!<br />
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Surprise! Change is HERE!</div>
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My <i>NEW</i> blog can be found at:</div>
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<a href="http://www.funnybeautiful.com/">www.funnybeautiful.com</a></div>
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From here on out, please visit my new site to read all about the Shove family adventures. :)</div>
Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-54433058653313650622013-11-29T16:41:00.001-08:002013-11-29T16:41:45.069-08:00The Man with the Bag<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I broke my cardinal Christmas rule this year, which is to see Santa <i>early</i> before the madness begins. We've all been sick over the last month and Ryan's been traveling like crazy, so somehow Thanksgiving snuck up on me this year. As November slipped quickly by, I could feel the pressure mounting; getting your child into see The Big Guy post-Thanksgiving can be a total nightmare, a nightmare I didn't want to deal with. So, on a whim, we packed E.V. up after her nap on Wednesday and decided to join all the crazy people doing pre-Black Friday shopping. To my surprise we walked straight into see Santa with <i>no line!</i> (His "elf" told us we had missed the crowds by about 30 minutes...<i>whew!</i>)</div>
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Emma Vance wasn't quite sure what to make of ol' Kris Kringle (giving him the same look of confusion as <a href="http://theshoves.blogspot.com/2012/11/thats-where-santie-claus-got-involved.html" target="_blank">last year</a>), but she sure had fun running around his North Pole for a while! Eventually one of Santa's Little Helpers lured E.V. over toward Santa with the promise of a noise-making toy, and three quick pictures later, it was over! In and out in about 10 minutes? <i>We'll take it!</i></div>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-13274568919950756332013-11-28T18:01:00.002-08:002013-11-28T18:04:11.792-08:00Thanksgiving 2.0<div style="text-align: center;">
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Our Turkey Day was about 1000% slower this year than it was last year. For <a href="http://theshoves.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-tale-of-three-thanksgivings.html" target="_blank">E.V.'s first Thanksgiving</a>, we had three houses to visit and were out until late into the night celebrating, and, truthfully, it was fun but <i>exhausting</i>! This year was quite opposite.<br />
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We woke up casually and without any real agenda. We didn't have to be anywhere until mid-afternoon, so I cooked E.V. a "special" Thanksgiving breakfast (read: the same ol' thing served on a thematic plate), and when we were done, I looked around and thought, "Hmmm. Now what?"<br />
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Ryan was still enjoying his holiday by sleeping in, so I decided to get in the spirit of the season by baking cookies (E.V.'s first time!). Despite deciding to bake on a whim, I randomly happened to have all of the ingredients on-hand--which I was thankful for because it was so FRIGID out this morning that there was NO WAY I would've made the trek to the grocery store to fight over flour with the last-minute Thanksgiving chefs. ;) I decided the best way to incorporate a one-year-old into my project was to bake cookies mise en place, so I measured everything out before pulling Emma Vance up onto a chair next to me. I had envisioned her enjoying dumping the bowls of ingredients into the batter, but, as I should have expected, she was more interested in taste-testing the chocolate chips than actually helping me. Go figure. <i>Oh, well! Whatever floats your boat, kid!</i> And then, of course, she had to taste-test the batter for approval before I placed the cookies onto the baking sheet. <i>That's my girl!</i> It ended up being a fun activity for our quiet Thanksgiving, and Ryan was ecstatic to wake up to freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in bed! We spent the rest of the morning watching the Macy's parade, playing and napping, and then it was time for the Turkey Day festivities to really begin!<br />
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With my brother and sister-in-law and E.V.'s four cousins having just moved to California and Ryan's brother and girlfriend traveling for the holiday, we had the rare treat of having both my family and Ryan's family together for Thanksgiving. Wendi and Mike hostessed my mom, dad and oldest brother, and it was so nice to only have one house to visit for our holiday festivities. The gist of the typical holiday madness didn't change much by combining dinners, however: E.V. ran around like a wild child, climbing on everyone, dancing, begging for snacks, playing with toys and reading books while Wendi and Mike cooked a fabulous dinner. (I'm <i>still</i> full four hours later!) My dad made for entertaining and outrageous conversation (as usual); I picked Jon's brain about HTML code (his world, not mine); and Ryan carved his first turkey (like a freakin' boss). It was a fun night to have the two families together for a meal, and afterwards as we all packed up leftovers, Emma Vance explored the glowing lights around Wendi's house.<br />
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Since Thanksgiving fell so late this year, now that the turkey is eaten and the dishes are washed, all I have to say is this:<i> Christmas here we come!</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The things I have to resort to doing in Amityville!<br />
Our oven is SOOOOO hot, and I'm terrified E.V. will touch it one day!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Someone</i> didn't want to take pictures. But I still laugh at her silly face... :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma Vance's Thanksgiving placemat that she made at preschool!</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-6675223352451701432013-11-27T07:54:00.001-08:002013-11-27T07:54:43.973-08:0023 Weeks Pregnant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy (almost) Thanksgiving everyone! Being pregnant during this time of year means I get to eat whatever I want without any guilt, right? I mean, in any sort of fair and just world, mashed potatoes <i>have</i> to be good for a growing baby. ;)</div>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-62166257478777663062013-11-26T20:37:00.001-08:002013-11-26T20:37:14.033-08:00Evolving v. Devolving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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These days are filled with fleeting moments, meaning I'm desperately trying to live <i>in</i> these moments while I can, but every once in a while I pause for a second in a state of pure revelation. One of these pauses happened today.</div>
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I was deep within thought, contemplating how Emma Vance actually walked <i>with</i> me at the park the other day. I pushed an empty stroller; she insisted on carrying her snack. She stayed obediently by my side; I walked at about 1 mph to accommodate her. It was perhaps the most joyful I've seen her lately, healthy and awash in new freedom. I was contemplating what her ability to walk with me meant on a deeper level: the scary rate at which she's becoming an independent child, the excitement of having a semi-autonomous child who doesn't need me for every little thing, the implications for next spring when I'll be pushing a newborn while E.V. walks at my side...<i>sigh</i>. And then I snapped back to reality.</div>
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In the midst of my daydreaming, I had removed E.V. from her high chair and was finishing her rejected lunch (chicken and veggie rice). And when I say "finishing," I mean literally standing in front of her empty high chair, scooping up cold rice with a miniature spoon from a Cookie Monster bowl. (<i>Motherhood...</i>) I had snapped back to reality because apparently although E.V. wasn't interested in her lunch, she sure as heck didn't want anyone else to have it and was pushing me away from the highchair as if I was stealing her last morsel of food. </div>
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It was in this somewhat confusing, post-daydream moment that I realized that perhaps as my toddler <i>evolves</i> into a responsible, independent member of society, I'm conversely <i>devolving</i> into a kid who rarely ever has a grown-up meal anymore? Is this possible? :)</div>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-56795768767688584002013-11-24T16:29:00.000-08:002013-11-24T16:29:46.774-08:00Change is Coming!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-91048903188992029952013-11-22T16:15:00.002-08:002013-11-22T16:24:11.349-08:00Toddler Thanksgiving<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, that's about right.</td></tr>
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<i>What is Toddler Thanksgiving?</i><br />
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Well, in a nutshell, Toddler Thanksgiving is <i>madness.</i> Pure, unadulterated (pun intended) MADNESS.<br />
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In all actuality, it's a Thanksgiving-themed play date complete with crafts, favors and a Thanksgiving-ish lunch...and lots of tiny toddlers ransacking the poor hostess' house. :) We celebrated Toddler Thanksgiving today with a few of Emma Vance's friends, and I have to say I was unprepared for the meltdowns, the yelling, the injuries, the sudden fear of paint (my child!) and the <i>mess</i>. However, it was also SUPER fun, as evidenced by E.V.'s falling asleep within 10 seconds of being clicked into her carseat. <i>Whew</i>.<br />
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My contribution to the play date was rather tame (in Talie terms)--just some cupcakes. Some <i>store bought</i> cupcakes. (<i>Shhhh! Don't tell!</i>) I had visions of grandeur when it came to my dessert responsibilities; cupcakes had been requested, and my plans included decorations that would've surely taken twice as long as the actual baking would have. However, after dinner last night I had a moment of panic as I realized that Toddler Thanksgiving was <i>in the morning</i>. (How did that sneak up on me so quickly? I blame vacation.) I ventured out into the cold night to pick up baking supplies, but upon wandering through the bakery section of Publix, I thought, "What the heck? Who cares? Certainly not the kids..." Resolved that I don't have to do <i>everything</i> super-creatively, I grabbed a dozen pre-done cupcakes and called my duties completed. It worked out well, considering the toddlers spent most of the play-and-craft time begging to eat the cupcakes, although I did NOT think through the yellow and orange frosting very well. It ended up <i>everywhere</i>, including staining E.V.'s white top. ;) <i>Oh, well. Next year, sugar cookies...that is, IF we lose our minds and opt embrace the madness again! </i>:)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(E.V.'s is the incomplete one on the left because she all of a sudden developed a fear of paint. Go figure.)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aw. The littlest turkey!</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-27557017037170352092013-11-21T10:32:00.002-08:002013-11-21T10:40:36.594-08:00On Vaccines and the Chicken Pox<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"But I don't <i>wanna</i> have the chicken pox, Mom!"</td></tr>
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After a full MONTH of being sick, I'm happy to (cautiously) say that we're all finally healthy here in the Shove household. (<i>Great, now I've jinxed us...</i>) Last winter, E.V. was still so young and had very little interaction with other kids, meaning we had a relatively illness-free season. You can imagine, then, how mentally unprepared I was for the bout of disease that has swept through our house this year! Between the flu, a sinus infection, the flu again, a cold, a head cold, the stomach bug, the stomach bug and THE STOMACH BUG AGAIN, by the time we were finally runny-nose-free and vomit-less (and on our way to New York) I was <i>done. </i>Like DONE-DONE. I really can't handle any of us being sick for a while; I've paid my dues for October/November, and I've decided that I've earned a break from playing nursemaid. I vowed to skip the gym daycare this week, have politely inquired about colds before agreeing to playdates and have shielded myself and my child from anyone with congestion, and so far it's worked...well, kind of.<br />
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The other day the youngest Russian girl and her mother were playing their backyard. This particular Russian sister likes to tease Oscar and Olive, so I'd been avoiding letting the dogs out to go potty all afternoon. At the first sight of them walking indoors, I quickly sent Oscar and Olive out back, and E.V. quickly scurried after them (which is normal). Unfortunately The Littlest Russian came running back out, causing the dogs to bark like crazy and Emma Vance to start crying at the fence to play with her. I sucked up my frustration and scooped up E.V. to walk her next door. The Littlest Russian doesn't speak <i>great</i> English, so she mostly just played with Emma Vance while I watched, babbling in a foreign language all the while. Eventually I asked her where her sisters were, and she responded that they were inside. I thought this was strange because they're such an adventurous bunch, so I asked if they were in trouble. She shook her head, then started to say, "No, they're...they...they have...{long dramatic pause as she searched for the English word}...<i><b>chicken pox</b></i>."<br />
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<i>You've GOT to be kidding me.</i><br />
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At that horrible revelation, I looked closely at The Littlest Russian's face and noticed a very clear, very <i>exposed and open </i>pock on her lip. <i>Ugh.</i> I quickly scooped up E.V., told her to give her sisters our best wishes and ran inside. I was panicked. I threw Emma Vance in the tub and scrubbed her head-to-toe. I sanitized my hands and face as well as hers and put a frantic text into my resident nurse/friend (Abbey Busch!). <i>I trust my medical friends way more than WebMD, mostly because WebMD ALWAYS ends with "and may cause death."</i> :) She reminded me that Emma Vance may have already had a vaccine for chicken pox, so I contacted my pediatrician's office. Waiting for a response was AGONIZING...<br />
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At this point in the story, let me remind you of my initial (and, truthfully, somewhat ongoing) hesitations about vaccines. I struggled a LOT before E.V. was born about what our vaccine choices would be, and eventually decided to only take what seemed to be necessary vaccines and on our own schedule (so she wouldn't get a ton of shots at once). Over the past year, we've pretty much accepted almost all of the standard vaccines (except a flu shot) and have slowly fallen into line with the CDC-recommended schedule. Every night before she's set to get shots, though, Ryan and I pray extra fervently for them to work accurately and to not cause any harm, and so far, so good. Even though we've finally decided to essentially just follow the norm, I do have to admit that I've felt uncomfortable at times with pumping my child full of "stuff" and have often left vaccine appointments feeling scared and unsure of my decision. HOWEVER, our encounter with The Littlest Russian and her pox germs was the first time I ever realized how thankful I am for vaccines. This particular shot was one that I hesitated about because our generation grew up getting the disease, and "we turned out fine." (Do I sound like an old, crotchety lady?) What I didn't envision was her possibly getting it so <i>young</i>; it was one of those illnesses I imagined her being exposed to in elementary school. The thought of my 17 month old having itchy pox and my being unable to communicate with her about being sick was terrifying, and as I waited for the doctor to return my call, my attitude on vaccines changed in an instant. <i>C'mon vaccine! I hope I didn't doom her to getting the chicken pox because of my fears!</i><br />
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And then they called back.<br />
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She has had the vaccine! <i>Hallelujah!</i><br />
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I felt such a sense of relief in that moment. Although there's a small chance that she could still get the chicken pox because nothing's 100% effective, I feel good knowing that she has a fighting chance. I feel great about my decision despite my previous discomfort, and moving forward I'll feel a bit more confident about her vaccinations. Now if only we can avoid another month's worth of headaches, fevers and runny noses--and The Russians for a few weeks--I'll feel <i>really </i>good. :)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The upside to having The Russians as neighbors? They keep us fed with fun treats that are always intriguing... ;)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yay! No chicken pox!"</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-19098423324484917472013-11-20T06:42:00.002-08:002013-11-20T06:42:36.582-08:0022 Weeks Pregnant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm 22 weeks pregnant...and growing rapidly! ;)Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-91054329403460221262013-11-19T18:27:00.001-08:002013-11-19T18:36:23.061-08:00New York City, Baby!<div style="text-align: center;">
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I've been a bit negligent in my blogging this past week--but for good reason: We were in New York!<br />
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I feel like there's a million things to recap from our trip, but I'll try not to blabber on <i>too</i> much. :) Ryan had a shoot in Manhattan that just happened to fall right around his grandmother, who lives upstate's, 80th birthday. We decided to make a trip of it, spending a few days in the city and then venturing north to celebrate with Nana.<br />
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Since Ryan was already in the city working, this was my first solo flight with Emma Vance. I was a wreck, needless to say--stressed about packing and flying with a baby (and a half!) weighing me down. (Plus the reoccurring stomach bug leading up to the trip didn't help my fears!) As far as prepping for the plane, I opted to ditch pretty much everything I'd normally take for myself and pack lightly. One of our carry-ons was a toddler-sized backpack so E.V. could carry her own toys--complete with harness and leash (gulp). <i>Judge not, lest ye be judged!</i> Pre-kid-Talie would've rolled her eyes at the sight of a child on a leash, but wrangling a stroller, a purse, a diaper bag, a belly and a toddler through Hartsfield-Jackson airport without Ryan caused my pride to go straight out of the window. Despite all my fears of being judged, it really wasn't that terrible of an experience; E.V. didn't try to stray too much, and I got lots of empathetic comments from other parents in the airport. (I think my being pregnant and alone gave me a pass, right?) It was an early morning flight, and I had timed it so that Emma Vance would nap while in the air--and she was perfectly Baby Wise and passed out, bottle in hand, at the allotted time. Too bad we sat on the runway for an hour (<i>bah</i>), meaning she was up and at 'em at the first clinking of drink service. <i>Of course! </i>Thankfully a mother of three sat next to us and was very kind. We walked up and down the aisle twice, visited the restroom three times, read a book, ate Biscoff cookies, watched a little bit of Elmo and Dr. Seuss, and suddenly our two-hour flight was over without incident! Everyone smiled and commented how sweet and well-behaved she had been. <i>Whew. I did it!</i><br />
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Ryan was dropping off his crew at the airport as I arrived, so he met us at baggage claim and rode back into the city with us. We stayed at an affordable hotel in midtown that was so tiny I asked where the lobby was, only to discover that the hallway we were standing in <i>was</i> the lobby. The hotel was converted from old apartments, so we had a living room and kitchenette, which was wonderful. Once we were settled, we ventured out to explore and get a slice of pizza--E.V.'s first <i>real</i> slice of NY pizza! Once her belly was full, she passed out for a nap until the babysitter arrived. <i>Yes, we had a sitter in the city!</i> Through a course of wonderfully orchestrated events, a friend of a friend (who turned out to be a cousin of another friend) just moved to Manhattan from Atlanta and was kind enough to sit for us for two nights in a row. <i>Hallelujah! We were free!</i> That first night, Ryan and I explored <a href="http://www.eataly.com/" target="_blank">Eataly</a> and had dinner at <a href="http://www.eataly.com/birreria" target="_blank">Birreria</a>, where we sat between a man who sang along obnoxiously to the background music during his <i>entire </i>meal and a young girl with an older gentleman to whom we couldn't tell her relationship. (I optimistically voted "uncle.") We were both a bit exhausted at this point, but since we wanted to take advantage of our freedom, we hopped over to <a href="http://www.serendipity3.com/" target="_blank">Serendipity 3</a> and ordered two frozen hot chocolates (whatever, we're tourists...). They were bigger than imagined, meaning we each only finished a small bit of our dessert, but it was worth the hefty pricetag. :) The kicker of the experience? The singing man from Birreria showed up! No joke. And take a wild guess where they sat him. <i>Yep, you got it! Encore!</i> Unbelievable.<br />
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The next morning we headed out to <a href="http://www.ess-a-bagel.com/" target="_blank">Ess-a-bagel</a>, which we had been told was the consummate "best bagel in Manhattan." We had also been warned that it was home of The Bagel Nazi, and that we'd better be mentally and physically prepared, which we were...until the line got long. It started out so pleasantly with a man taking my order happily and chatting about my belly. Then, as people lined up behind me while I waited for my order to come up, the yelling began. The verbal battery consisted of refusing to toast my fresh bagel (true story), chastising me as I reached for my tray without permission, and berating me to move along faster. :/ Surprisingly, the bagels were totally worth it, and the next morning I found myself craving another visit (although we opted for the time-saving continental breakfast instead, complete with powdered eggs--which did NOT impress Emma Vance).<br />
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After breakfast, we walked to <a href="http://www.fao.com/home/index.jsp" target="_blank">FAO Schwarz</a>, which turned out to be the highlight of our trip (in my opinion). We let E.V. run wild, and she was like a kid in a candy store...literally! She kept pulling down toys and making little "To Buy" piles everywhere. She talked to other children, got attached to a cup of gum balls, hugged stuffed animals, met The Muppets, rocked a baby in the FAO Nursery...all the while jibber-jabbering and full of excitement. We were there an hour or two, and by the end we were all wiped. In fact, we were so tired we took a taxi (and now E.V. can say "tac-ti" to hail her own!) back to our hotel where we all passed out!<br />
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Post-nap we headed to Rockefeller Center to ooh and aah at the ice skaters and giant Christmas tree (which is currently being decorated). We raided the NBC Experience Store (a mini-version of our FAO Schawarz experience), where Emma Vance broke the button to The Voice chair (oops) and where we were able to do more people watching from the second floor windows. That night our wonderful sitter came back for a second dose of E.V., and Ryan and I had pizza and fried dough at <a href="http://donantoniopizza.com/about-us/" target="_blank">Don Antonio</a> before seeing <a href="http://www.wickedthemusical.com/broadway-tickets" target="_blank">Wicked</a>. I LOVE musicals, and although Ryan had already seen <i>Wicked</i>, it was my first time. I had read the book previously, and I can honestly say that although the musical doesn't line up with the book all that well, I actually <i>preferred</i> the musical version to the original! (A must-see for anyone who enjoys theater!)<br />
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The next morning we packed up our things and prepared for our trip to see Ryan's family. We had planned on taking the train up to Hudson, but at the last minute we realized that we couldn't check any baggage (!), which caused us to go with Plan B, renting a car and driving up. It turned out to be a wiser decision (although a bit stressful in the meantime!), and it was a peaceful, pretty ride. We stayed with Ryan's Aunt Shawn and Uncle Joe at their property, which is surrounded by beautiful, wide-open spaces and nature. Emma Vance was <i>obsessed</i> with Shawn and Joe, enjoying strolls down the lane, running around their giant yard, playing with sticks, watching the birds feed, taking long, lazy naps and riding around on a tractor. It was like a little rustic adventure for her, and she was in heaven. She learned to ask to go outside to see the birds ("Bur 'side?") and to moo (which she's been doing non-stop ever since); she collected little treasures from around their house (mostly little bird statues); she stood at the kitchen table like a big girl and happily ate eggs and strawberries and yogurt and raisin english muffins...and after all of her fun, she didn't want to go home!<br />
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We visited with Ryan's Nana and Pop, along with his other aunts and uncle, for dinner at Nana's one night, where we (successfully) spent most of our time trying to keep E.V. from breaking anything. (<i>"But Mom! There are such lovely little things for me to play with here!"</i>) Nana dug out a mouse house from when her kids were little for E.V. to play with, which she loved, and chowed down on oyster crackers. Nana and Pop ventured up to Shawn and Joe's for lunch the next day, which turned out to be an unseasonably beautiful November day. Then, to celebrate Nana's 80th birthday, that night the whole family went out to dinner at a local Italian restaurant, where we chased after the baby, stuffed our bellies, sang <i>Happy Birthday </i>and ate cake to our hearts' content. It was great to be with Nana on such a special occasion, and I know it was wonderful for her to have E.V. at her side.<br />
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On the plane ride home (WITH Ryan this time!), Emma Vance passed out in Ryan's lap and slept for almost the entire flight. We were <i>all</i> exhausted! <i>Sigh.</i><br />
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Overall, it was a fun, FUN week in New York. It made me realize that family vacations are only going to get better and better as Emma Vance gets older (and as we add a little sister into the mix!), and I'm so thankful for all of the memories we made this time around.<br />
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Here's our trip in a nutshell. And by "nutshell," I mean a few bajillion pictures:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"But it's too EARLY to get on a plane, Mom!"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Judge not!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too bad it didn't last!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made it!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Venturing out into the city for the first time...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PIZZA!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, that's a LOT of frozen hot chocolate!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whoa! Big buildings!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ess-a-bagel = worth it</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">E.V.'s happy place</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d8TLpyWHZJU/Uor0_0H2HyI/AAAAAAAAKgk/XoPBwdiVbxw/s1600/NO1_0125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d8TLpyWHZJU/Uor0_0H2HyI/AAAAAAAAKgk/XoPBwdiVbxw/s640/NO1_0125.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Can I have it? Puh-lease???"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ytSKmd8hUJU/Uor1A2RNIUI/AAAAAAAAKgo/BwMy4iLPnio/s1600/NO1_0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ytSKmd8hUJU/Uor1A2RNIUI/AAAAAAAAKgo/BwMy4iLPnio/s640/NO1_0144.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture pretty much captures her happiness during the whole visit.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Muppets!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TAXI!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3Z3vLPYQkwA/Uor1r4bu_PI/AAAAAAAAKmQ/7XKO0JUVfcU/s1600/NO1_0496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3Z3vLPYQkwA/Uor1r4bu_PI/AAAAAAAAKmQ/7XKO0JUVfcU/s640/NO1_0496.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were a little too early to see the completed tree. :(</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uh-oh.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping our eyes open for Tina Fey... ;)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gFBhtcYrgkM/Uouiwjy919I/AAAAAAAAKow/DMJAAtnT5ok/s1600/photo5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gFBhtcYrgkM/Uouiwjy919I/AAAAAAAAKow/DMJAAtnT5ok/s640/photo5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WICKED!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x3l376xJFT8/UouitRpMXqI/AAAAAAAAKn8/0ca5FRF31lE/s1600/photo+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x3l376xJFT8/UouitRpMXqI/AAAAAAAAKn8/0ca5FRF31lE/s640/photo+14.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the play with Ryan...and that lady apparently. Ha!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Lcz4yd812g/Uouixqz22DI/AAAAAAAAKpQ/C5V09REp_VE/s1600/photo7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Lcz4yd812g/Uouixqz22DI/AAAAAAAAKpQ/C5V09REp_VE/s640/photo7.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She did NOT care for the powdered eggs. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love them.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Shawn and Uncle Joe's house!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mPrtkkIyAKk/Uor1LQRM1TI/AAAAAAAAKiA/FopNpPpA9nk/s1600/NO1_0216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mPrtkkIyAKk/Uor1LQRM1TI/AAAAAAAAKiA/FopNpPpA9nk/s640/NO1_0216.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">watching the birds</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a ski bunny!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nana's 80th Birthday Dinner</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saying goodbye to "her" birds. :(</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank goodness for the iPad and for Elmo!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aw.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, that's about how beat we all were after our time in New York!</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-52580919199473091342013-11-18T20:04:00.003-08:002013-11-18T21:17:29.244-08:00Eight Years Down the Road to Old-and-Gray<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ecP1lVumtlg/UorjFHM2j_I/AAAAAAAAKdI/Omn_iYoK_9g/s1600/NO1_0172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ecP1lVumtlg/UorjFHM2j_I/AAAAAAAAKdI/Omn_iYoK_9g/s640/NO1_0172.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eight years later, and he still makes me profoundly happy.</td></tr>
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Today Ryan and I have been married EIGHT whole years (and have been together a total of ELEVEN!). As far as anniversaries go, this one was rather quiet since Ryan is currently traveling, and life went about itself with complete normalcy and without pomp and circumstance. A few days ago we looked at one another in the midst of a stressful and consuming situation and confessed that neither of us had really thought about celebrating our anniversary this year, confessions that we both laughed at and then vowed to worry about post-anniversary. (Isn't that how life gets after more than a decade together? :) )<br />
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And, now that the house is peacefully quiet with the baby asleep in her crib, the dogs snoring at my feet and Ryan exploring the West Coast, I'm left to my own thoughts. Eight years is a long time, and every day Ryan and I seem to be happier and happier--an unexpected outcome in today's world. The idea of a honeymoon phase has never suited us; truthfully, Ryan and I love and appreciate one other <i>more</i> today than we did on this day eight years ago, and oftentimes we have a tinge of guilt because we are surrounded by and confided in by others who have deep wounds within their marriages. We, however, have seemed to weather the storms of life rather well, and for that I can only thank a loving God and a loving husband. I don't say any of this to be obnoxious or to rub our happiness in anyone's face, but rather my hope is that someone out there will regain faith that a happy, healthy marriage in today's crazy world <i>is</i> actually possible; this I know from firsthand experience.<br />
<br />
Okay, so now onto the older-wiser stuff. A successful marriage is the culmination of a million little moments working together to create a beautiful relationship, and over the past eight years, Ryan and I have learned a few things that have made our relationship stronger and better. These aren't anything super profound or revolutionary, but they've seemed to work well for us. :)<br />
<br />
<b>Here are eight things that have helped make our road to old-and-gray a happy road:</b><br />
<br />
<b>1. Worry about the other's needs, not your own.</b> It's pretty simple: Worry about the other person's happiness and fulfillment more than your own, and they'll feel loved and appreciate you in return. (Isn't it easy to love someone who serves you selflessly?) At the same time, that person is looking out for you as well, meaning your needs are also being met. It's a foreign concept in our modern world, but, man, does it make for a strong, long-lasting, trusting relationship!<br />
<br />
<b>2. Division of labor makes for less bickering. </b>Ryan and I rarely fight, and, in fact, we've never had a true blow out complete with yelling, name calling and all that stuff. That's not to say that we don't get frustrated or exacerbated with each other, but overall we're pretty agreeable. It occurred to us early in marriage that one of the most common subjects that married people argue over is the daily duties (e.g. who does the dishes--the person who used them or the stay-at-home-mom?). From the start we've had a clear-cut list of which responsibilities belong to whom, and although they've adjusted along with our lifestyle, having that division of labor has helped us avoid little fights along the way. <i>Really, why waste energy on arguing over whose turn it is to take out the poopy diaper trash?</i><br />
<br />
<b>3. Have low expectations of one another.</b> I know that this is counterintuitive; if we expect the best of ourselves, shouldn't we expect the same of our partner in life? <i>Nope.</i> Ryan and I set the bar very low when it comes to one another. (Hence the laughter that neither of us had actually planned anything for our anniversary!) How lovely it is to be blown away by your spouse because you literally expected nothing of them! And, conversely, how disheartening it is to be disappointed by your spouse because they fell short of your expectations...<br />
<br />
<b>4. Love your spouse more than your children.</b> <i>All the husbands cheer, and all the wives cower in shame.</i> This is a big one for a lot of people. Kids change the dynamic of the relationship forever, and a lot of people (women) struggle because they truly love their children more than they love their husbands. And the hardest part of it is that you can't change or control whom you love more; the heart does what it wants. So, to all the husbands who "amen'd" this point, if you want your wife to love you more than she does your kids, <i>you need to love her better than they love her.</i> (Yup. You read right.) You need to love her unconditionally, hug her, snuggle her, be kind to her, need her, fill her needs...and she will love you back. Wives, as your husband loves you well, remember that he will be there when the children are gone--and for goodness's sake, TELL HIM that you love him more than your kids! Men need obvious signs like that. ;)<br />
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<b>5. People change at their own will, not at your will.</b> I started off standing in the "Hell No" category when it came to having kids, and here we are, eight years later, and I'm baking Baby #2 while happily caring for Baby #1. No one could've ever predicted that this life, that <i>parenthood</i>, would make me so happy, but people DO change. (Time does that to us humans.) HOWEVER, you cannot force someone to change, and, in fact, in marriage, trying to force someone to change often has the opposite effect. You married your spouse, faults and all, and expecting them to change for you is unrealistic. (Although we sure can try. Right, my always-late husband? :) ) Your role is to grow <i>with</i> each other, change alongside one another and encourage the best outcome for the other.<br />
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<b>6. Say thank you. Say thank you a lot.</b> We're typically very rude to those closest to us, aren't we? (And no one wants to be treated like that!) Ryan and I always make a point of saying thank you to one another often. We do so in small situations (like saying thanks when he opens my car door) and in the grander scheme of things (like thanking him for working so hard to provide for our family). It helps to make each other feel appreciated, and it comes at such little cost.<br />
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<b>7. Acknowledge the others' hardship instead of trying to one-up them.</b> Life is hard. It's hard no matter what stage or situation you're in, and sharing about our low points is part of processing life. When your'e on the listening end of that conversation, it's natural to chime in about your own hardships; it makes for good bonding and commiserating. However, as much as misery loves company, sometimes misery just wants to vent. Ryan and I have adopted the practice of acknowledging the other's hardships <i>before</i> venting ourselves. We say, "I know that your day was terrible, and I'm sorry for that. Here's what's going on in my sucky day as well..." and it helps us to not downplay the other's misery. This simple phrase allows both people to vent freely without feeling like the other is trying to outdo the other.<br />
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<b>8. "I do" is not a magic phrase. </b>I have had so many people tell me how difficult their first year of marriage was, and Ryan and I can't relate. In listening to dozens of couples lament about disappointment and struggles they went through in the early years of marriage, it occurred to us that the reason our first year was so great is that we had extremely realistic views of marriage. We both knew that saying "I do" didn't change anything: There is no magic the morning you wake up from your wedding night; you both wake up with the same baggage and bad breath that you had the day before because <i>you're the same people that you were before.</i> I've had so many friends who didn't realize that problems in their dating relationship would spill over into (and be magnified by) their marriage, but your dating relationship really is a mini version of what life as Mr. and Mrs. will be like: If you fight all the time, you'll fight all the time. If you're loving and forgiving, you be loving and forgiving. It's as simple as that. <i>And the real kicker? </i>Almost a decade later, and I can attest that you still wake up with the same baggage and bad breath on your eighth anniversary that you had on your honeymoon. :)Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-73183858505466588092013-11-11T09:12:00.002-08:002013-11-11T09:13:46.102-08:0021 Weeks Pregnant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We had our 20 week appointment last Thursday, and everything looks great. The anatomy scan showed the baby looks like it's developing normally and on-track, and for that we're praising God. It also showed that we're having another GIRL! Yay!!!<br />
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This pregnancy has been a whole different experience than my first, so I had convinced myself we were having a boy. It's strange, though, because I've never once thought of anything "boy" this time around. In my head I've been planning Girl Nursery Part II, secretly aching to buy tiny newborn girl clothes and doodling our girl name, but I had just chalked all that up to my already having a girl. <i>Perhaps my subconscious knows more than I give it credit for?!?</i><br />
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I'm sure I have a million thoughts about this whole "two girls" thing, but both Ryan and I ended up catching the stomach super bug this weekend that Emma Vance had on Friday, so my brain hasn't quite processed the reality of adding another little lady to our family yet. What I do know is that I'm super pumped to be able to get more use out of E.V.'s wardrobe and am even more excited at the thought of Emma Vance having a built-in best friend to grow up alongside. What else I know is that I'm soooo glad to be over this bug. <i>Whoa. That was rough.</i> :)Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-13926941465176013472013-11-09T18:54:00.002-08:002013-11-09T18:54:23.685-08:00SURPRISE! It's a...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-71133591579104364762013-11-08T18:34:00.001-08:002013-11-08T19:12:58.220-08:00Stomach. Bug.<div style="text-align: center;">
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I do not like this<br />
feeling yucky.<br />
I do not like<br />
when I feel sucky.<br />
<br />
I do not like this<br />
stomach bug.<br />
I think I need<br />
a Daddy hug.<br />
<br />
Would I? Could I?<br />
Barf all day?<br />
Yes, Mom! Yes, Mom!<br />
I think I may...<br />
<br />
I woke up icky.<br />
I woke up sticky.<br />
I asked my Mommy,<br />
if she please,<br />
Would she, could she,<br />
clean barf off me?<br />
<br />
I have thrown up in my crib.<br />
I have thrown up in my bib.<br />
I have thrown up in my high chair.<br />
This bug is my parents' nightmare.<br />
<br />
I have thrown up in our home.<br />
I have thrown up on the phone.<br />
I have thrown up here and there.<br />
I have thrown up on the stairs!<br />
<br />
I have thrown up in Mommy's bed.<br />
I have thrown up on Oscar's head.<br />
I have thrown up reading books.<br />
I have thrown up while Mommy cooks.<br />
<br />
I have thrown up in an old rag.<br />
I have thrown up in a trash bag.<br />
I have thrown up on the doctor's floor<br />
As the nurse walked through the door...<br />
<br />
I have thrown up on Mom's shirt.<br />
I have thrown up in the dirt.<br />
I have thrown up all around.<br />
I even threw up in my princess crown!<br />
<br />
I have thrown up in things that are weird.<br />
I have thrown up in Daddy's beard.<br />
I have thrown up on the bathroom mat.<br />
I have thrown up wearing Daddy's hat.<br />
<br />
I have thrown up with a smile.<br />
I have thrown up for a long while.<br />
I have thrown up without warning.<br />
I have thrown up since FIVE this morning.<br />
<br />
I have thrown up on seven pajamas,<br />
two of which were my mama's.<br />
I have thrown up in Mommy's hair.<br />
I have thrown up EVERYWHERE!<br />
<br />
-Dr. Emma Vance Seuss<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(pre-doctor's office barf watching the fishes)</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-51200280224779958432013-11-06T11:14:00.001-08:002013-11-06T11:14:48.511-08:00One Year Anniversary in Amityville<div style="text-align: center;">
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We celebrate our one-year anniversary in Amityville this week, which is both depressing and surprising. When we initially signed our lease, I was certain that we'd buy a house and move before summer came around, but time slipped by too quickly and without our consent. I never thought we'd be here this long--and as of now it seems we'll be here even <i>longer</i>--and I'm starting to get the blues about it.<br />
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Ryan and I always talk about "if Amityville were ours," meaning what we'd improve and change to make this little house feel more like home, but the reality is that it's a rental and nothing more. I can decorate and air out and imagine as much as I want, but the truth is that I'm just putting lipstick on a sad, old pig. I've resolved to try and focus on the bright side, to think about the things that I actually like about this place and time in our lives. I know that one day I'll reminisce and grin at these years living in "that old shack I used to refer to as 'Amityville,'" and as I look forward to looking back, the one thing I think I'll remember fondly is our overgrown yard.<br />
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Our property is actually quite large at almost three full acres and has a creek that runs alongside of it. The official "backyard" is fenced in, but the forest comes right up to the edge of the fence and spills over a bit, giving the impression that chaos is about to take over our home at any given moment. There are trees in abundance, meaning <i>leaves</i> in abundance, and they've been a great source of shade and entertainment over the past year. (See how E.V. likes to pretend to rake them up? :) ) The dogs always escape from the back door at full force, barking like maniacs to scare away the inevitable squirrels and birds who creep into Oscar and Olive's territory while they slumber peacefully indoors, and even after the wildlife has scattered away, Olive likes to give a final bark or two of warning to make sure they don't try to return.<br />
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Emma Vance has gotten a bit of her own freedom in the backyard these days; I let her wander out there on her own, down the porch stairs and into the seemingly-unsupervised yard with her canine buddies. (I, of course, keep a watchful eye on the three of them from the kitchen window.) She likes to pick up rocks (and throw them), chase after Oscar, tumble down the sloped side of the grass and bang on the fence to summon the little Russian girls next door. ("Hey, you! Come play with me!") Feeling like she's in control of her whereabouts and activities keeps her more entertained than any toy within Amityville's walls, and for that I'm thankful for our big ol' yard.<br />
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This week as we cross over the (un)finish line of our one year anniversary and into to the unknown amount of time we'll remain here, I'll be dwelling on these small moments spent outside our backdoor in order to get me through the coming months. Although I'd love to have an end in sight, if I can just be present and focus on the highlights of our time here, I think I'll be able to grin and bear it...at least for a little while longer. :)<br />
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-4969305711839112572013-11-05T08:57:00.000-08:002013-11-05T08:57:31.074-08:0020 Weeks Pregnant<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty soon this little envelope will tell us if it's a BOY or a GIRL! Yay!</td></tr>
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<i>How did I get halfway through my pregnancy already?!?</i> Seriously, it seemed like it took FOR-EV-ER to get to the 20-week mark the first time around, but this time it seems to have snuck up on me. It might be that I've got E.V. to occupy my mind and time, or perhaps it's the fact that I've had a lot more mishaps so far in this pregnancy--including pulling out my back (like an old lady), falling down the basement stairs (whoops!), getting the flu and now getting my first sinus infection ever. I'm hoping and praying for an uneventful second half because, well, I don't know how much more this rickety old body can take! :)<br />
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We have our 20-week appointment coming up soon, meaning that we'll be finding out if this little one is a boy or girl in the next few weeks!<i> </i>This baby is so lively compared to Emma Vance, kicking like crazy, eager to make him- or herself known, but truthfully I still feel like I'm "not <i>that</i> pregnant." I constantly find myself asking Ryan if you can tell my belly is a bump and not a lump. (<i>"Yes, dear, you LOOK pregnant...for the millionth time!"</i>) There's something in me that feels like putting a gender (and thus a name, a nursery and the ability to imagine him or her) to this baby will make everything suddenly snap into reality...ready or not!</div>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-69106925160279925362013-11-04T19:22:00.000-08:002013-11-04T19:27:17.047-08:00Who Punched You In The Face? (Talie vs. The Neti Pot)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Believe it or not, when I was growing up, The Donald actually had a sense of humor. He used to tell me stories about my superhero alter-ego, about "when he was a little girl," and about how I apparently came out of the womb dressed in Reeboks and a sweatsuit (<i>hey, it was the 80s, so I believed him...</i>). Anytime I ever whined or cried, his reaction was usually the same, a silly, smily barking of, "Who bit you? Who hurt you?" which would ultimately make me laugh and thus forget whatever was really ailing me. Ryan and I have adopted this little tactic with Emma Vance (and each time we say it, it always makes me smile), but yesterday I woke up and told Ryan that I felt like instead someone should ask me, "Who punched you in the face?" Only this time I wasn't laughing, no matter how ridiculous the question...<br />
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We've just been getting over a bout of sickness and teething with Emma Vance that lasted almost THREE WEEKS STRAIGHT (<i>Moms around the world, empathize with me for a moment!</i>), and as of this weekend I had counted my lucky stars that I hadn't really caught anything from her. However, my self-pats-on-the-back were premature because I woke up yesterday feeling like someone had punched me in the lefthand side of my face--multiple times. My eye, my cheek, my jaw and my teeth were in <i>pain</i>, and I was confused. <i>Why was just the lefthand side of my face achy? </i><i>How can you get a headache in only half your head? </i><i>Was this the result of some terrible cavity? Did I sleep on my FACE wrong? Is that even possible?!?</i> My nose wasn't really stuffy; I wasn't running a fever; and although I was tired, that's just par for the pregnancy (and parenting!) course. I decided, in true my-body-can-heal-itself fashion, to wait a day and see how it progressed.<br />
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It got worse. As in, "WHO RAN A MACK TRUCK INTO MY FACE?" worse.<br />
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So, once again trying to be medicinally conservative, I opted to try a Neti Pot. <i>Have you ever done one of these things? No? Don't. Just don't. </i>:) We got one several years ago and have used it on occasion (Ryan more recently than I) to help with stuffy noses. I wanted to use it when I had the flu earlier this season, but I kept psyching myself out. I'd done it successfully in the past, but it'd been so long that I just couldn't do it. I kept holding the dang thing up to my nose, tipping my head, and then chickening out. {cue Ryan's taunting and teasing} In fact, Ryan's final conclusion about why I couldn't do the Neti Pot and he can was, "We're just afraid of different things." <i>Really, Ryan? I'm not afraid, I just CAN'T, in the same way that I CAN'T physically DROWN MYSELF. </i>:)<br />
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However, I was in <i>soooo </i>much pain yesterday evening, I decided to be a big girl and <i>just do it.</i> No waiting, no thinking it through, no hesitating; just <i>doing</i>. After a bit of pumping-up self-talk (which, yes, involved calling myself "Talie Freaking Aquilio"), I took that stupid Neti Pot, filled with warm water and salt and dumped it into my head without hesitation. Big. Mistake. BIG mistake.<br />
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I guess in the years since I've personally used the Neti Pot, I've forgotten the forward-leaning angle that it necessary to NOT internally drown yourself. (Maybe I should've re-read the pamphlet first?) My instinct was to simply lean my head to the side, resulting in water running straight past my other nostril and into MY EAR. Let me reiterate at this point that this was <i>salt water in my face</i>. Salt water. Think about that. Imagine that for a moment. (And, yes, the cringing you're doing at that thought is merited.) I immediately snarfed the water out of my throat and nose, started hopping around and crying in pain (salty tears, which helped nothing). It took me longer than I'd like to admit to calm down (thankfully without Ryan as an audience this time around), and even 30 minutes later my nose, eyes, throat and ears were still burning. In fact, the only upside was that the punched-face feeling was gone for a few minutes, having been completely overtaken by almost-drowned-at-sea feeling. (I think I'd take a punch in the face over a face full of saltwater any day!) <i>Darn you, Neti Pot! You win this one! Uncle! UNCLE!</i><br />
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In the battle of Talie vs. The Neti Pot, it's 0-1.<br />
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After taking a full night to let the burning in my brain subside, I decided to actually go see a doctor today. I hadn't seen my primary care doctor since before being pregnant with E.V., and two years later, it turns out my old doctor no longer takes my insurance--and NO ONE would take me as a new patient! <i>Bah!</i> I called my OB and begged them to see me, and they apologized and sent me to an urgent care facility. When I finally got to see a doctor, he first took a look in my right ear, which wasn't part of my initial punched-in-the-face complaint. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, "There's a lot of inflammation in there! It doesn't hurt at all?!?" <i>How do you explain to a doctor that it might have be a self-inflicted saltwater burn that is making your ear canal inflamed? </i>:)<br />
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Anyway, my left ear was filled with fluid as well as being inflamed, and after a thorough examination, he declared that I had a sinus infection. I was sent home with a few prescriptions (but mostly a "sorry-you're-pregnant-so-don't-use-these if-you-don't-need-to"). I'm on the mend (hopefully), but the scars remaining from my battle with the Neti Pot are far from being healed. As for the question of, "Who hurt you? Who bit you? Who punched you in the face?"--I can confidently say that (at least this time around), the answer is THE NETI POT! :)Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-13105795198918995152013-10-31T19:08:00.001-07:002013-10-31T19:38:37.449-07:00Trick or Treat! Love, Little Red<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">DRUM ROLL...She's Little Red Riding Hood! SURPRISE!</span></td></tr>
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I LOVE HALLOWEEN. Seriously.</div>
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The costumes, the candy, the pumpkins--who <i>wouldn't</i> love this holiday? (That is, besides our very sweet, very conservative neighbors whose poor kids are missing out on my amazing non-cheapo <i>chocolate</i> candy sitting on my porch. I totally respect their wishes, but on the bright side...<i>more leftover candy for me!</i>)</div>
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<a href="http://theshoves.blogspot.com/2012/10/trick-or-treat-me-want-cookies.html" target="_blank">Last year</a> Emma Vance couldn't even walk (or stand up on her own for that matter!), so we had a fun night carrying around our girl Cookie Monster. This year was a totally different game with an extremely mobile 16 month old--meaning that her costume <i>had</i> to have <i>actual </i>shoes. :) Early on we decided Emma Vance should trick or treat as Little Red Riding Hood (classic)...and that Oscar should be her wolf (typecasting).</div>
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This year's costume debacles included (but were not limited to): making <i>two</i> capes since the first one made her look like a gnome (no exaggeration), having Amazon.com randomly cancel my order for a miniature picnic basket {insert panic at <i>that</i> realization}, not noticing that her gingham dress was SUPER short before dressing up tonight, and having to wear 6-9 month tights because the weather turned unexpectedly too warm for her knit stockings. The cape disaster of 2013 was the most time-consuming part of Halloween for me: I had bought super cheap red cotton (trying to be thrifty), but the minute I pulled it out to start sewing, Ryan got a pouty face and complained that it "wasn't the right material for a Red Riding Hood cape." He always does this to me (which I say with a loving smirk); he's too busy to have help me imagine and prepare for a project, but as soon as I'm about to dive in (or already halfway done!), he has opinions galore. I rolled my eyes at his complaint and carried on with my original plan, which resulted in a hood that was so small and round that it fit like a swim cap and a cape that wasn't wide enough to cover her shoulders. <i>Bah.</i> <i>You win this one, Old Man Shove, but don't get used to it!</i> So I picked up some sale velvet, watched a How To video and made a more appropriate cape for our Little Red. :)</div>
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As for how our day went, it was crammed full of activity! With a school in the morning, a long afternoon nap and two grandmothers' houses to trick or treat at, we were busy-busy-busy for our All Hallow's Eve. I opted to send E.V. to school in a Halloween-ish dress (don't the black bows look like flying bats, or is that just me?), only to discover that it was "Wear Orange Day" at preschool. (Don't ask me how I missed that one. <i>Oops.</i> #momfail) It didn't matter, though since Emma Vance got a giant glob of orange paint on her outfit so bad that the teacher had to put her emergency onesie on in order to wash the dress (and thus save it from the trash bin). <i>Wasn't that so sweet of her?</i> So much for my bat dress!</div>
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After lunch and a much-needed nap, we put on her costume, traipsed around in the woods with Oscar for a bit and then headed to each of the grandmothers' houses to trick or treat. Yia Yia got her Oreos and Froot Loops (which she was obsessed with) and a Little Red Riding Hood book. At Nanny's house she tromped up and down the street to visit the neighbors and had pizza for dinner (yum!). Needless to say, between all of the excitement and <i>sugar</i>, at bedtime tonight, E.V. spent almost 45 minutes rolling around in her crib, playfully calling out for Oscar and Olive to come into her nursery. (Oscar finally obliged.) Even a night-night story with Dada couldn't calm our little one, but I suppose since it's Halloween we're all allowed a little indulgence and fun, right? :)</div>
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Happy Halloween, everyone! <i>Sorry for the million pictures, but SERIOUSLY. How could I be expected to choose?!? </i>:)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"But it's ORANGE Day at school, Mom!" </span></td></tr>
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Let the REAL fun begin!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Who needs a stuffed wolf when you can have a <i>real</i> one?)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Of course Little Red Riding Hood needs her picnic basket...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">and a trick-or-treater needs a treat basket!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(She opted to oust the "picnic blanket" and opted for leaves instead.)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(That apron took me a bajillion hours...but only cost $3!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V_FSW4a0yP4/UnMHPmPlxjI/AAAAAAAAKTc/AKLIgDYzEG4/s1600/NO1_0270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V_FSW4a0yP4/UnMHPmPlxjI/AAAAAAAAKTc/AKLIgDYzEG4/s640/NO1_0270.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Emma Vance, er, LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD! Watch out for the scary wolf!"</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(That's a stick to fight off any wolves out there.)</span></td></tr>
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To grandmothers' houses we go!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8vQ7INZEaV4/UnMHRNjXO6I/AAAAAAAAKTo/J66scrfTrkw/s1600/NO1_0315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8vQ7INZEaV4/UnMHRNjXO6I/AAAAAAAAKTo/J66scrfTrkw/s640/NO1_0315.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">at Yia Yia's</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running around (and <i>chasing around</i>) Nanny's house...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Whoa, belly!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night-night story with Dada...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KnnoPl8YcAs/UnMHcu0RbEI/AAAAAAAAKVM/cW_-Keucq9U/s1600/NO1_0497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KnnoPl8YcAs/UnMHcu0RbEI/AAAAAAAAKVM/cW_-Keucq9U/s640/NO1_0497.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and today's accomplice, Mr. Wolf.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too. Much. Sugar.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5ReBBZOIRKU/UnMHc2_MyPI/AAAAAAAAKVQ/KGEJQWtKJBs/s1600/NO1_0506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5ReBBZOIRKU/UnMHc2_MyPI/AAAAAAAAKVQ/KGEJQWtKJBs/s640/NO1_0506.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CRAZY BABY</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Why does Oscar get to be the wolf?"<br />
-Sad Olive<br />
<i>Sorry, girl! Next year it's your turn to be the star!</i></td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-37885774743670401312013-10-30T05:26:00.001-07:002013-10-30T05:26:51.207-07:0019 Weeks Pregnant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy (almost) Halloween!</div>
Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-58765268962777794172013-10-27T17:17:00.002-07:002013-10-27T17:18:27.016-07:00Super Baby!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super E.V.!</td></tr>
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Today was Superhero Day for the little kids at church, and <i>of course</i> I had to dress Emma Vance up for the occasion. Yesterday I had already planned a trip to JoAnn's and some sewing anyway, and so it wasn't a big deal to whip up a quick cape. Plus, let's be honest--I'm a sucker for any opportunity to dress up...or to at least live vicariously by dressing up my 16 month old! :)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey, Mom? Does Clark Kent have to change into his suit in a parking lot at church?" </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>She can fly!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a big, big world out there, Super E.V.!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Costumes always make playing more fun!)</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-22297219343920007492013-10-25T05:15:00.002-07:002013-10-25T05:19:46.108-07:00Preschool Punkins<div style="text-align: center;">
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I love school, and thankfully Emma Vance does, too! Her little class is so precious--full of little lives just learning how to navigate this big world...and how to take a group picture. :)<br />
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Yesterday was Pumpkin Patch Day for E.V.'s 1s Class, meaning the moms were called in for backup. (I can't blame them for requesting assistance; keeping track of eight one year olds is like herding cats!) Unfortunately it was one of those mornings for me: the garage door froze (literally) and wouldn't close, I attempted a slew of unsuccessful errands, a Starbucks barista insulted my name, E.V.'s teacher called because her new shoes were too big and falling off, I lost my car keys--and all this before noon! However, half an hour spent chasing my little escape artist and her classmates around the church's pumpkin patch was a much-needed bright spot in my otherwise ugly morning. The highlight of the visit? An attempt to gather all the kids for a class picture...which was an experience that I'll leave to your imaginations, save to say that E.V. took the opportunity to push all the decorative pumpkins off the bench (to make room for all the other kids, duh). <i>Let's just say that next year will be a much easier shot to get!:)</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yucky!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Auntie Em? We aren't in Kansas anymore!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(That's her monster grin, which she's practicing for Halloween night...)</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-23721627353795034732013-10-24T10:15:00.000-07:002013-10-24T10:15:01.398-07:0018 Weeks Pregnant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Oh, the kicking! </i>I had forgotten how comforting and exciting it is!<br />
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Baby #2 started during the UGA v. Tennessee game a few weeks ago, which was much, much earlier than the first time I was pregnant (about 15 weeks v. 21 weeks). In fact, it was SO much earlier that I thought maybe it was just my nerves (the game went into overtime) and didn't mention it to Ryan. However, in the past few weeks this little active baby has made him- or herself very apparent, kicking me every evening just to say, "Goodnight, Mom!" and knocking my bladder constantly, resulting in many trips to the restroom. (<i>Oh, joy!</i>) Regardless of the potty breaks, though, I love the feeling of this little one's little feet dancing around in my belly, reminding me that everything's growing just fine in there. :) <i>Kick on, kid, kick on!</i>Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-63541921865958711322013-10-23T19:55:00.001-07:002013-10-23T20:01:22.281-07:00Halloween Prep<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(The aftereffects of having worked in retail doing visuals...)</td></tr>
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Halloween is my absolute favorite time of year! Although we don't go crazy with orange and black decorations around here (no graveyards or homemade haunted houses at the Shoves'...yet!), there's just something about getting out the pumpkins, eating candy by the handful and DRESSING UP that makes me giddy. It's as if Fall is officially here, and not even an Indian Summer can mess that up once Halloween makes its debut.<br />
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Since it's about a week out from the big day, we're knee-deep in prepping for All Hallow's Eve 2013. (Lucky for us, Amityville comes naturally equipped for such a holiday, from the creaky floors to the abundant spider webs to the creepy crawlies living in our dark corners. <i>Ha!</i>) This year I chose just a few of our favorite Halloween decorations and grouped them on the mantle (whereas at the townhouse I decorated much more extensively), and our candy bowl is full--or rather, <i>half full</i> since I make the mistake of buying candy too early <i>every single year</i>--and ready for any pint-sized ghouls and goblins we might have knock on our door.<br />
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Today Emma Vance painted the pumpkin she got at Burt's <a href="http://theshoves.blogspot.com/2013/10/pumpkins-pumpkins-everywhere.html" target="_blank">last weekend</a>, as well as a tiny one for her tiny brother or sister. :) She <i>loves</i> to paint, and when the pumpkins were done, she chose a few rocks to decorate for her dada as well...and then managed to scamper away from me and up onto the back porch, leaving a trail of tiny, rainbow-colored handprints in her wake. (Sometimes I love this whole rental thing!) The big guys will get carved into jack o' lanterns this weekend and join E.V.'s painted versions on the porch for the next week or so.<br />
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The last piece of the Halloween puzzle is to make Emma Vance's costume, and somehow I've convinced myself that I don't need a pattern to make it, so I'm winging it. (The costume is a surprise, but you might be able to guess from my sneak preview pic...) If it ends up a total disaster, we'll all just laugh together, okay? <i>Wish me luck--I may need it!</i> ;)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ta-da! Beautiful!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lGQ9Xouok-g/UmhBfr1gyfI/AAAAAAAAKKc/D-BMtyMV5xI/s1600/NO1_0061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lGQ9Xouok-g/UmhBfr1gyfI/AAAAAAAAKKc/D-BMtyMV5xI/s640/NO1_0061.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hmm. What else can I paint?"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w6Jd96cRjWo/UmhBgbWc45I/AAAAAAAAKKk/gtB2DICgYpo/s1600/NO1_0063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w6Jd96cRjWo/UmhBgbWc45I/AAAAAAAAKKk/gtB2DICgYpo/s640/NO1_0063.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ROCKS!</td></tr>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TK7a3ru72KU/UmhBidCgIqI/AAAAAAAAKK4/dAOfAXSF5m0/s1600/NO1_0066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TK7a3ru72KU/UmhBidCgIqI/AAAAAAAAKK4/dAOfAXSF5m0/s640/NO1_0066.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_xI-NRm9Gw/UmhBhmG6DYI/AAAAAAAAKK0/jZRX5nljBaE/s1600/NO1_3209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_xI-NRm9Gw/UmhBhmG6DYI/AAAAAAAAKK0/jZRX5nljBaE/s640/NO1_3209.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One last big project to tackle...the costume!</td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-15796212347458486052013-10-22T09:24:00.001-07:002013-10-22T09:24:22.547-07:00<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/7093705/?claim=syh57c5kqvx">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4026856241198929099.post-16926222136603822792013-10-21T09:56:00.000-07:002013-10-21T09:56:14.038-07:00Pumpkins, Pumpkins Everywhere...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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It's our little family's tradition (along with most of the metro Atlanta area's as well!) to visit Burt's Pumpkin Patch in the North Georgia Mountains each October. Since it's a full hour's drive north of our house, we usually spend the day in the mountains, hopping from site to site and making the most of the travel time. With Ryan's jam-packed work schedule this fall, however, we took one look at the October calendar and realized that going Burt's this year wasn't going to happen. I came to grips with the decision and began seeking out the best local pumpkin patches for Emma Vance to explore when a teeny, tiny window of time suddenly opened up in Ryan's schedule this weekend. We decided to make the most of that window (<i>Who needs sleep anyway? Not us!</i>) and made an abbreviated trip to pick out our pumpkins yesterday. True, we skipped our annual apple cider donut stop at the nearby Hillcrest Orchards, but I had to remind myself that Burt's really is the main event--and my growing baby belly can certainly do <i>without</i> fried stuff and sugar! :)<br />
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The day started out freezing and foggy in Alpharetta, meaning we <i>had</i> to stop for bagels and Starbucks (pumpkin spice lattes, of course). However, as we drove out of the morning and into the mountains, the sun burned off the grayness and replaced it with bright blue skies. By the time we got to Burt's, I severely regretted leaving my sunglasses at home (and E.V.'s too!), but we were all in high spirits--especially Emma Vance. <a href="http://theshoves.blogspot.com/2012/10/burts-pumpkin-patch.html" target="_blank">Last year</a> she was just an immobile little baby who had difficulty sitting up on her own, but this year she was all over the place. (At school they refer to her as "a runner" and "The Escape Artist," for obvious reasons.) We spent the morning chasing her around, apologizing as she tried to socialize with <i>everyone</i> (including a sweet old man whose leg she happily attached herself to on more than one occasion and a generous little girl whose popcorn was intriguing to our curious little baby) and laughing at her antics. She was fascinated with the pumpkins (especially the stems), although she repeatedly referred to them as "apples" (which, although wrong, is a very high compliment in her world since they're her latest obsession). Ryan drove her around in a wheelbarrow as we each picked out our own pumpkin, including a tiny one for Emma Vance. (Hers will be getting a good coat of paint this week!) The three of use left covered in mud, exhausted, hungry...and most of all happy. :) <i>The tradition lives on!</i><br />
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(Oh how we've changed in just a year's time. Now we're a family of THREE AND A HALF!)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e_GgI9-rmsU/UI9IldZ9rQI/AAAAAAAAC1k/MjjTkt7xNYY/s1600/314A5423+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e_GgI9-rmsU/UI9IldZ9rQI/AAAAAAAAC1k/MjjTkt7xNYY/s640/314A5423+-+Version+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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Our gray sky morning...</div>
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...turned into a blue sky afternoon! Burt's was <i>packed</i>--with pumpkins <i>and</i> people!</div>
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But the crowds didn't stop us from having a fun time--or stop Emma Vance from walking around like she owned the place. :)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-91mAGQWmFuU/UmSEvvrC1YI/AAAAAAAAKIE/Tax78p-HznA/s1600/_55A2683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-91mAGQWmFuU/UmSEvvrC1YI/AAAAAAAAKIE/Tax78p-HznA/s640/_55A2683.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>("Uh, sorry, Dear. I think that's a little too heavy for you to carry by yourself...")</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HoUiZU95GMk/UmSEvIQtGtI/AAAAAAAAKIA/Wfwu14bj-bc/s1600/_55A2710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HoUiZU95GMk/UmSEvIQtGtI/AAAAAAAAKIA/Wfwu14bj-bc/s640/_55A2710.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What's that? Apple?"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--6ldVvFeYQ4/UmSEYY3ARCI/AAAAAAAAKFA/pyNfXF19D4A/s1600/655A2779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--6ldVvFeYQ4/UmSEYY3ARCI/AAAAAAAAKFA/pyNfXF19D4A/s640/655A2779.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Whoa! I <i>do</i> look pregnant! I really didn't realize until I saw this picture...)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_DpkhVRzTJk/UmSEXdQnf6I/AAAAAAAAKE4/7hwb0BEChk4/s1600/655A2759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_DpkhVRzTJk/UmSEXdQnf6I/AAAAAAAAKE4/7hwb0BEChk4/s640/655A2759.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"No, Emma Vance, that's not an apple. It's a pumpkin. Pump-kin. Pump-kin."</i> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWdP7AgYcyk/UmSEX0KoxTI/AAAAAAAAKE8/dO7rWfAVGiU/s1600/655A2767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWdP7AgYcyk/UmSEX0KoxTI/AAAAAAAAKE8/dO7rWfAVGiU/s640/655A2767.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Apple!"<br />
(It's useless arguing with her. :) )</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-og2I3-dH8sY/UmSEZho1jOI/AAAAAAAAKFQ/Z0C6KGlrRAg/s1600/655A2782.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-og2I3-dH8sY/UmSEZho1jOI/AAAAAAAAKFQ/Z0C6KGlrRAg/s640/655A2782.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey, new friend? Can I share your popcorn?"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-24o1JUsDLwo/UmSEcxF-qrI/AAAAAAAAKFs/9huqvfruxCs/s1600/655A2846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-24o1JUsDLwo/UmSEcxF-qrI/AAAAAAAAKFs/9huqvfruxCs/s640/655A2846.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Um, <i>yeah</i>. Mom? Dad? That line for the hayride is a little too long for <br />
my antsy baby self. Maybe next year..."</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCI_9bpAtJY/UmSEmCkjiiI/AAAAAAAAKGs/4Q3OO1KRscE/s1600/655A2947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCI_9bpAtJY/UmSEmCkjiiI/AAAAAAAAKGs/4Q3OO1KRscE/s640/655A2947.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'll take a Dada Ride instead!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(and a wheelbarrow ride, too)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma Vance's pumpkin!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQQIRPhkXPg/UmSErIZLitI/AAAAAAAAKHQ/Qol_DCj6nJU/s1600/655A3079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQQIRPhkXPg/UmSErIZLitI/AAAAAAAAKHQ/Qol_DCj6nJU/s640/655A3079.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Wow!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--7Hu4DKNXWU/UmSEsVdwB5I/AAAAAAAAKHg/rKfUOmQK3PA/s1600/655A3094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--7Hu4DKNXWU/UmSEsVdwB5I/AAAAAAAAKHg/rKfUOmQK3PA/s640/655A3094.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guarding her "apples!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her face hides <i>nothing</i>...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay! We did it! We made it to Burt's!<i> <br />See you next year...</i></td></tr>
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Talie Shovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751883291528065405noreply@blogger.com0