tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300655872024-03-13T11:42:56.043-07:00A Princess Born of IndiaOur adoption remembrance for our daughters.
One born in Kolkata joined us forever in 2007. One born in Pune joined us forever 2011.Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.comBlogger267125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-90976898659147502142014-03-18T06:32:00.005-07:002014-03-18T06:32:38.716-07:00Playing Catch Up Part 4 - Christmas 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Ross Family Christmas 2013</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas 2013 marked the very first year that my whole extended family was all together for Christmas. I will be forever grateful for everyone making such huge efforts to get here. We had family from California, Colorado, Arizona and Georgia who all traveled to the Pacific Northwest to be together for the holidays. It was magically wonderful. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was beginning to feel a lot like Christmas after we visited Santa. Such a relief comes over both girls once they know that their lists of “ideas” are safely in Santa’s huge bag ready to make it’s way back to the workshop. They know it is there that he scours the naughty or nice list and begins filling orders. Neither of them showed any signs of shyness this year as they pointed and discussed their desires with the jolly old elf. He was quick to point out the different tactic each girl took. Treya’s wildly general list that read item one, ANYTHING with princesses, item 2 ANY jewelry, item 3 ANY game, was far different than Devi’s uber specific list. She did not point out catalog pages or stores where each item could be found like my brother has done in years past, but she was quite detailed none the less. I did have to jump in once or twice to help Santa “decode” Devi’s hand written note letting him know that “#9disiekablme” was in fact referring to a request for the <i>Despicable Me</i> movie.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All the cousins together for the first time for Christmas</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">By the morning of the 24th, and after much anticipation, everyone had finally arrived. As is our tradition, we spent Christmas eve at Oma’s house eating clam chowder for dinner and attending her church afterward. It was an amazing site to see all six of her grandchildren ages 4 through 13 perched in the pew in front of us together for the holidays for the first time. Oma was beaming. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas morning was the first time we had overnight guests to wake up with us to find bulging stockings! Amazingly, Santa knew we had guests and had managed to deliver the right gifts under our tree so there was something for everyone. All of us grownups wallowed in the warmth of the fireplace, sipping momosas, watching the squealing delights of the kids discovering what was left for them under the tree. It was fun to watch the older kids let their mature guards down a little and jump right into assembling and playing with the kiddie toys that the younger ones had received. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">By the afternoon, our crowd had grown to 33 family members as we prepared for our Christmas feast. Somehow we managed to put table end to table end allowing us all to sit at ONE long Dr. Seuss style table. Well, minus the kids, who much preferred their own table to dine and have their own kid centered conversation. My goal was to have everyone have a hot meal served at one time, at one table, and we nailed it. Beef tenderloin, mashed potatoes, salad, bread and vegetable side dishes were served all at once, thanks much to all those hands we had to make it happen. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Afterward we had our annual white elephant gift exchange which was so much fun. The kids were chatting to “keep it” or “give it” as their parents unwrapped one of an assortment of odd gifts. I am certain our voices could be heard a block away from our house with the explosion of excitment we had going on inside. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The week that followed was full of fun activities for the cousins to share. We went ice skating, made gingerbread houses, watched movies, had pajama parties and played new games, Barbies and had many many robust rounds of hide-n-seek in the house. The girls glammed up after going on a shopping spree with Oma to spend some Christmas mad money, nearly clearing the shelves of Bath and Body Works. Our last big night together, we all went out to dinner to celebrate Oma’s December 31st birthday. Needless to say, when the week of festivities was over, there were tears shed as we had to say so long to all of our out of towners. Even Bengal was sad to say goodbye to Chase, the golden retriever who made the trip up from California. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I would have to say that this Christmas will go down in history as one of my most memorable. The kids got a long great and really got to know each other, making lasting memories together. In years to come, I hope we can pull this off again and again, but I warned this year...winking....no one is allowed to get married, adopt or have babies as our table was full to capacity! (no doubt, we will always be able to fit one or two more!)</span></span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-89304017548019410172014-02-25T11:37:00.003-08:002014-02-25T14:04:30.912-08:00Our 25th Wedding Anniversary Party*<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Now - December 2013 </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-laAKkkiXDC0/UwznhWzBvII/AAAAAAAADoI/s_vFWB9K7jw/s1600/1.+just+married+repeat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-laAKkkiXDC0/UwznhWzBvII/AAAAAAAADoI/s_vFWB9K7jw/s1600/1.+just+married+repeat.jpg" height="320" width="316" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> Then - December 1988</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Twenty-five years married? It is hard to imagine that Pat and I have been married that long, never mind the additional years we dated leading up to our nuptials. When I consider how it is that we managed to navigate the ebbs and flows of holy matrimony, I would have to say that in terms of our morals and core values we are one in the same. Like minded in such a way that though there are two of us we are like one. On an advice board displayed at our wedding, Pat’s mom’s message to us on that 3rd day of December 1988 was to "walk like two candles, but burn a single flame." Those wise words have surfaced often through the years and have served us well. True to her message’s meaning, with all the our other life stuff, we are as different as oil and water, thus giving our day to day the spice required to sustain one’s interest. We are individuals that appreciate and celebrate each others differences.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tRRe6ZnguXA/UwzoDLjjMKI/AAAAAAAADoU/i9X8CcaP4yE/s1600/3.+ceremony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tRRe6ZnguXA/UwzoDLjjMKI/AAAAAAAADoU/i9X8CcaP4yE/s1600/3.+ceremony.jpg" height="287" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> That powerful message has been instrumental not only in our marriage but also in how we are raising our children. We are trying to empower each girl with a positive self esteem in such a way that they, in turn, can appreciate the differences in each person who enters their lives while still staying true to their own self. This begins right at home by sharing with others our own blended family and the unique way we were formed. It seems that with this in mind, the perfect hostesses for our 25th wedding anniversary party, though they are still quite young, were our own two girls, Devi and Treya. <br /> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> Our hostesses!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It was of no surprise that they rose to the occasion and with a little guidance, carefully planned a lovely party, celebrating love’s commitment - not only between a husband and wife and their children, but also celebrating the support of our extended family and true blue friendships from the past and present. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We rented a room in <i>The Mansion</i> to accommodate our 60 something guests and it was a tight squeeze, a true testament of the kind of never ending support we’ve had our whole married life. The foyer was decorated with a Christmas tree covered in clear glass ornaments (favors that were given to the guests) that the girls filled with sand and shells collected during our Thanksgiving Puerto Vallarta trip. Around the top of each was a ribbon inscribed with the words “Together by the sea is our favorite place to be” on them, a nice representation of our love of Mexican and Caribbean travel. On the opposing side of the entry was a manikin displaying my princess wedding gown with the glittery beaded train draping the floor in front. The girls, who are still very much immersed in their make believe land of fairies and princesses most of the time, felt this detail was a must. Treya's help with the floral arrangements keep me on track, ensuring each vase contained the exact same amount of red roses and various other foliage. In the background one could hear the lyrical sounds of a talented quartet I commissioned from the Tacoma Youth Symphony, who occasionally threw in a Christmas carol making the evening that much more festive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">To unite our guests from various time frames in our lives, Treya and Devi passed out questionnaires about little known facts of our married life and urged people to search among themselves for the answers. Questions varied from “Who introduced Pat and Julie?” to “Which guests share the same birthday as Pat?” to “During a romantic evening, why did Pat dunk Julie’s head under water in the jacuzzi tub?” (The answer a true act of heroism.) It was a great ice breaker and was fun to watch the girls help some of the guests cheat by sharing their answers. <br /><br />The girls had chosen a pasta buffet with a choice of lasagna or Penne and Chicken Alfredo with bread and salads, reasoning that the choice of the turkey dinner buffet would have been too much turkey right after Thanksgiving. It appeared they made a good choice as everyone seemed to enjoy the menu, though I was so busy greeting people, many that I had not seen for a long time, that I somehow managed to miss my meal. <br /><br />We followed dinner with a short program. I greeted everyone and thanked them for coming, acknowledging the 11 wedding party members present. I also thanked everyone for their continued support, a promise that many of them made publicly during our ceremony when Pastor Shoop married us, as well as those who helped later, miraculously assisting us through the sane navigation of two international adoptions, a feat not possible without many many sets of strong shoulders. The evening would not have been complete without drawing attention to the role models who have helped us reach this point - our parents. I had everyone stand, eliminating people by the number of years they had been married. Over 30 years included my sister and brother and their spouses, but left standing beyond 45 years of marriage, was my dad and Pat’s mother. Both, no doubt, would have continued to stand if circumstances were different, but who sadly fell victim to the reality of their vow “til death us do part."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">My sister Joan and SIL Obie, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">both part of the over 30 years married group</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">To further emphasize our gratitude of our faithful group, the lights were dimmed and a short video I compiled began. Included in the video were photos of nearly every person in the room sharing memorable moments with us over the course of 25 years. Vacations spent together, holiday celebrations, silly Kodak moments all formed a stepping stone type of timeline, including the joyous moments when each daughter joined our family. Wow, have we all changed with the passing of time! My favorite portions of the movie were the short video out takes of my interviews with Devi and Treya. When asked, “Who are you going to marry someday?” Treya’s impromptu response was, “Devi...because she is my best friend!” I followed up with, “How about marrying someone like daddy?” She nodded yes and I questioned, “Why?” and she blurted, “Because I love him!” It was so completely tender and heartfelt leaving many, including me, with tear filled eyes. <br /><br />Devi brought the house down her opinion of, “What do you think about 25 years of marriage?” “It is kinda cool...and kind of creepy.” was her response. When I pondered, “Why is it kinda cool and kind of creepy?” Thoughtfully she paused and then finally retorted, “It’s cool because 25 years is a really really really long time, but creepy because you guys are so....OLD!” Ah, magic moments caught on video can be so incredibly raw, innocent and priceless!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As the final snapshot faded and the applause that followed finally died down, we were surprised when a friend approached us to present his anniversary gift. Out of his pocket came a stack of crinkled edged papers - a written service. He is an officiant, and performed a vow renewal right then and there, witnessed by 60 of our dearest and closest family and friends! It was beautiful, the details of his message to us were spot on - just right. At one point, he invited our girls to join us in a family hug, saying a prayer of thanks that God chose each girls for us, joining our family of four forever. We will be forever thankful to Shawn Schuler for this incredibly cool gift that was not even the least bit creepy! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> Cutting the cake then - 1988</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> Cutting the cake now - 2013 with our parents and children</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">After the ceremonial kissing of the bride (that would be me), we could think of no other way to proceed then by cutting the cake especially chosen for us by Devi and Treya. They had carefully tasted samples months earlier and had chosen a 2-tier tort with raspberry filling and creamy white icing. Simply decorated with silver ribbon at each tier with the signature silver numbers “25” poking out from the live roses that encircled the top, it was delicious.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The true icing on the cake was a gift from my dad. Years ago he had composed poems for my siblings when they reached their 25th year of marriage, so I was hoping he would remember and put pen to paper for us as well, though I would have never asked. Raising to his feet while tapping a glass to get everyone's attention he surprised us with this.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>The Welding</i></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>To weld is to join two pieces into one, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>A perfect union that will never come undone.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Our honored couple were welded in nineteen eighty eight.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>December 3rd was the welding date.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Paster Shoop was the welder, a good one we all feel.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>He struck an arc between them and it was hard as steel.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Twenty five years have come and gone since that welding date, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>When Patrick announced he wanted Julie, to be his life long mate.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>It was after a family dinner and it was getting late,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>All the guests were gone when Pat revealed his fate,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Out came a jewelry box and in it was a ring,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>I was honored to be asked and Mom's heart began to sing.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>PAT WENT TO JULIE'S ROOM AND YELLED "WE'RE ENGAGED".</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Wedding plans were quickly made 'cuz time was getting short you see,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>As their new life together was to start in a place called Washington D.C.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>The adventurers traveled to a place unknown, not even a place to live,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Really all they had were hopes and untold love to give.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>After a year of living and working there they found,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Their hearts belonged back near the great Puget Sound.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>A home was envisioned and built by the pair,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>And they started planing their family there.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Now in all the years there were good times and bad,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>For all in our family if was heartbreaking and sad. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>When we looked forward with anticipation to see,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>The new little one that was not to be.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>In time their life changed to a different plan,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>And they were blessed with children from a far off land.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Way around the world and far across the sea, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Came our little Treya and her big sister Devi.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>In the couple's demeanor, adoration is what I see,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>In any solid welding that's the way it should be. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>This welding so lovingly struck way, way back,</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Has stood the time against any rust attack. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>CONGRATULATIONS LOVE, DAD 2013 </i></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />It was so hard to bring the evening to a close. The room was just full. Full of happiness, full of love, full of laughter and full of family and friends. I was so proud of the girls. They were so well behaved, polite and were the best little hostesses we could have ever asked for. On the drive home in the darkness, Devi sat in her car seat, silent in her hunter green velvety dress, her thumb having found her mouth and her eyelids struggling under the weight of eminent sleep. Out of that darkness came her small voice, “That was the best party ever!” Yep, it sure was. Thank you so much my dear children!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">* I know this is an incredibly long blog post, but I couldn't manage to edit a single word :)</span></span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-77815689755918134252014-02-09T14:01:00.004-08:002014-02-09T14:01:43.375-08:00Playing Catch Up Part 3 - Thanksgiving 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once again, we boarded a plane and headed to sunny Mexico for Thanksgiving. I know, I know. The lengths we go to so that I don’t have to smell a cooking turkey - an aroma that reminds me of countless holidays in my youth spent sick in my jammies with less than an appetite for anything resembling food. Thankfully (every pun intended) I have a family that so understands my quirkiness, who willingly give up stuffing for guacamole every year!<br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2013’s trip, found us in Puerto Vallarta once again soaking up the 80 plus degree sunshine with ten other family members in bathing suits, rather than scarves and mittens. This location, which feels like home to us, once again greeted us with hugs and smiles from staff that remember us from year to year. <br /> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seasoned travelers, our girls were lost to the vast pools and water slides again, under the supervision of three of their older cousins, and it was fun to watch them play imaginary type games all day long, uninterrupted by grown ups who have a way of somehow making the magic disappear, with comments about sunscreen, lunch, and the encouragement of rest time. This year they even spent time with a few of the grounds keepers learning about the growth pattern of coconuts.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our only mishap occurred on two afternoons during Treya's poolside nap. She took to sleep walking! Once, out of the corner of my eye I witnessed her getting up, grabbing her towel, groggily trodded several beach loungers away and plopped herself on a chase between two women having a conversation. They were dumbfounded! I politely trotted over, to retrieve my sleeping beauty and bring her back to our area. A couple of days later, again while napping pool side she got up and resembling a drunkin soldier, started making her way toward the pool! Most of the grown ups from our group were wading in the pool at the time, but quickly cousin/aunt Melissa who was approaching on the pool deck, saw the emergency. Without our Jelly Bean even noticing she guided her by her shoulders and carefully repositioned our sleepy Trey in her spot safe and secure beneath the umbrella once more. In both instances, Treya had no idea that she had gotten up! <br /><br />We had hoped to go snorkeling for our big outing this year, but found the age limit to be 8 years old to board the boat. Surprisingly, the age limit for zip lining was only 5 years, so zip lining it was. We bounced up into the mountains during an hour long ride in an open air safari truck, much to the dismay of poor Devi’s motion sensitive stomach. Once there, I thought our poor girl would say “no thanks” to the actual adventure, but true to her toughness, she shook off her sick tummy, now very very empty, and was ready to brave the jungle suspended on only a tiny cable.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was exhilarating to zip from tree top to tree top - up 660 feet in the air. I tend to not care for heights, but suspended this way, for some reason, did not evoke those nervous stomach feelings at all. Or perhaps, I was so consumed eyeing my brave babies so fearlessly stepping off each platform - Treya first in line, as their tiny bodies and bobbling heads, enlarged by the weight and size of the helmets, went racing across the sky disappearing into the jungle, which seemed miles ahead of me and out of my line of sight. Even Oma, made the trek, and it would have been impossible to wipe the smile off of any of our faces to watch her experience this amazing thrill.<br /><br />A 5-course dinner prepared for us by a chef set atop a stage filled with mirrors and a camera man with a hand held video camera served as the entertainment one evening. I was very proud of the girls’ willingness to try each course, politely commenting, “I don’t really care for this” on only one dish, but finding redeeming qualities in each of the other dishes. Pretty good for their young unrefined palates I thought. The signature drink for the children was a Pink Panther, which quickly became their favorite. Lord only knows what was in it, but it was PINK and served in a fancy glass, what was not to like? And because it helped them stay occupied for the 2 hour long dinner, it was well worth the sipping extravagance. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As always, the week would not be complete without the annual ladies spa day. This year we let the younger girls have their own day with pedicures done all together and hair braiding attacked the same way. I can only think that years from now, these small luxuries will serve as some of their fondest memories experiencing "firsts", spent together as children. They were so cute helping each other decide on nail polish colors, reasoning the success of one color over another, and helping each design a colored bead pattern for their corn rowed hair. Each design was slightly different, so that no two girls would be exactly alike. <br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And as quickly as it begins, the day to leave this little paradise always comes a bit too soon. The one fun thing about traveling at Thanksgiving is that when you arrive home, and even in the airport, the signs of the upcoming holidays can be spotted every where. Our first morning home began by waking up tanned and rested, then bundling up in warm clothing, the feeling of wearing a coat and socks seemingly odd after days of wearing nothing but a bathing suit and bare feet. Out the door we headed to sip cocoa and cut down our Christmas tree with another successful Thanksgiving trip safely stored in our memories. </span></span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-87400821797393176072014-02-01T16:33:00.001-08:002014-02-01T16:34:27.347-08:00 Playing Catch Up Part 2 - November Indian Princess Party<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Seven may as well be twenty-one, because both ages seem totally unfathomable to me. Yet, here it is! Devi turned 7, choosing to celebrate by having an Indian Princess Party. Dressed in a new salwar kameez, tikka and with her hair pulled back in a bun, I can begin to see the young adult begin to bud inside her. (Pat is never going to let her date!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I think the best part about throwing home birthday parties comes on the eve before the party, when as the kids sleep, the house is transformed to match the theme of the party. For this one, we covered the floor to ceiling windows of our family room with a giant white paper silhouette of the Taj Mahal. When Dev awoke the morning of the party she shouted, “The Taj Mahal? We are in Agra, India!” indicating that we had indeed accomplished our goal. The dining room became a tent by draping bright colored sheers from the corners of the room toward the center. This is where our party began as I explained the words “Diwali” and “Diya” to our young guests. Instructed by Oma our resident potter, she demonstrated how to form the air dry clay into lanterns to hold tea lights to burn during the festival of light. The girls decorated the outsides of their diyas by pushing bright colored beads into the soft clay sides in all kinds of patterns and designs.<br /> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With the help of my friend Kris, henna was applied in mehndi designs of the girls’ choosing on the tops of their hands and a bindi adorned their foreheads. I added a set of bangles on their wrists and a dupatta scarf around each of their necks and just like that a harem of Indian princesses appeared before our very eyes! AND...just in the nick of time, as our Indian dance instructor arrived and began teaching the girls traditional dances. I wish I had written down the names of the dances, but alas all I can remember is learning the moves to a dance about a sly snake in the grass and another...a love story. The girls’ favorite, they learned the movements to portray a prince falling in love with a girl who wore the shiniest nose ring. He met her family and the stars were just right in the sky, so he built her a house. Okay, so perhaps the romance gets a bit lost in the translation, but the girls were enamored anyway. With the exhaustion of dance came hunger. so the girls dined on naan pizzas, papadums with mango chutney, fruit and lassi drinks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With full bellies, I had their attention again so we played some Indian oriented games. The first was called Pass the Parcel. I had the girls sit in a big circle and played Indian music while they passed a wrapped box from lap to lap. When the music stopped the person holding the box got to unwrap it...revealing another wrapped box. The music and passing of the parcel began again. I think the box was unwrapped about 10 times and in the very center were surprises for each girl. The game was a huge hit with the girls and was equally as fun to watch as a parent. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Next we played chase the peacock. I had each girl hold the edge of a big nylon parachute up close to their faces in a large circle. I dropped a peacock feather onto the parachute and the girls had to blow the feather away from their area. If the feather went over the edge in your area, you were out. This was great fun and definitely wore out our competitive princesses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The final game was a memory game, in which I had filled a tray with all kinds of Indian related items like spices, a scarf, a henna cone, a paper </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">mache elephant, tiffin, statue of
Ganesh, an Indian travel book, tea, incense, bangle bracelets, some
rupees, a mortar and pestle, and more so that the tray was completely
covered with objects. I uncovered the tray and explained to the girls
what each item was called, how it was used and then covered up the tray
again. We went around the room and had each girl name something off the
tray from memory, trying not to repeat any of the items. I was so
impressed! They really paid attention and had excellent recall. It was
nice to use this teaching moment to challenge them just a bit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> At last it was cake time! At Devi’s request, I had made a two tier peacock cake...with jewels...and candies...and a real peacock on top. Well, it had real feathers anyway. All in all, the party was a huge success and I think everyone left exhausted, full, and knowing a bit more about Indian culture. Success in my book, and in Devi’s. Lots of hugs were doled out along with many thank yous, namastes, and a few high fives as well. Days after I could hear our girls humming the prince song and pointing to their shiny nose ring and then up to the stars...</span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-42494194524291015672014-02-01T15:49:00.000-08:002014-02-01T16:34:16.853-08:00Playing Catch Up Part 1 - October!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Oh my goodness, how could it be that 3 months have passed since my last post? How could it be that I sit here today on the eve of the final day of 2013? Both of those facts have hit me like a slap across each cheek and the sting is still warming my reddened skin. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">(obviously outdated again! Guess I am now slapping the other cheek!)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><br />Hmmm....where to begin. I suppose at this point one could insert the scene from Sound of Music where Julie Andrews is trying to teach the Von Trapp kids to sing. She begins plucking at the guitar and sings “Lets start at the very beginning....it’s a very good place to start”. Taking that advice, I will begin by skimming through October, attempting to keep this post short and sweet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For starters, I was
amazed when both girls decided on a Halloween costume well in advance
of the 31st and without changing their minds 18 times before the big
day. Devi, after losing both her front teeth, concluded that a fanged
tiger was a perfect fit for her and she practiced her growl for days in
preparation. She lobbied hard and won me over on the idea of full face
make up this year too. Treya, our little echo, always copies Devi, but
to our surprise this year she elected to be a ladybug and we all
applauded this tidbit of independent thought. She also was very specific
that she did not want to wear a dress with antenna head band, rather
she had her heart set on a rotund round body with wings. Easy enough,
and darling too, we managed to find the cutest of felt costumes at a
ridiculous price that my crafty skills could not compete with. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our celebration included our annual neighborhood door to door trick or treating that once again was far from what I remember as a girl. Our girls came home loaded from just the 10 houses we visit with bags and boxes of toys in addition to enough candy to give our dentist the shivers. Naturally, lots of sorting by size, shape, and color, ensued before selecting Smarties and Dots as their reward for all that walking and hard door knocking work.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Devi’s school also puts on a good old fashioned sock hop. This years DJ was aces. He got down into the crowd of kids and taught dances including the Thriller dance, electric slide and the Cuban shuffle. Pat and I stood on the side lines watching Devi huddle up in a swirl of giggles with all of her little costume clad girlfriends, who were so sweet to let Treya tag along behind. Now and again, I would catch a glimpse of these cute yet slightly awkward girls in their youth, trying so hard to be cool and hip with their dance moves...a reminder that they are growing up so incredibly fast and in a blink will arrive as teens. All ready they get embarrassed when we old fogies took the floor to get a bit of our groove on too. <br /> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Much as she tries to keep up, our rough and tumble Trey was exhausted by the time we got home and fell into bed....falling out, soon thereafter! At about 11pm, as we sat watching a bit of television, we heard a huge thud sound on the floor above us. Poor Treya had fallen right out of bed flat onto her back. When I reached her side, she was completely unfazed and still fast asleep. Poor baby. </span></span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-57109312482376058032013-09-30T21:59:00.003-07:002013-09-30T22:02:39.290-07:00A Day Among Days<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Forever Family Day 2013 - Gateway to India</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Doing the “day to day”, takes all day every day. So much so, that it often takes an anniversary or major milestone, to cause me to pause long enough to survey our current situation. Casting a glance this way and that to look for a bit of wood to knock, I am happy to report that we are doing okay, more than okay really. Today, instead of diligently putting my head down and trudging forward, I am going to wallow a bit in this happy place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">On September 18th, we celebrated two major milestones -Treya’s anniversary of becoming a Ross in the courts here in the USA, and Devi’s 6th anniversary of her forever family day. A quick glance at what that looks like finds us parenting a 4 and a half year old tall tough nut. Treya has sprouted about 3 and half inches since June. She is our bossy bear, who considers herself second in command to mom and dad, often landing herself in trouble for mimicking our correction of Devi. Purely trying to help, I'm sure...this personality trait has never waned since she joined our family. She is our ballet dancing t-shirt and jeans tomboy, who currently lives for soccer and swimming. Most days she vacillates from being a kitty, a puppy or a pony, but never a little girl. The longer this animal phase goes on the more it tries my patience with the child who licks my hand, or answers my questions with panting, neighs, or puppy whines. She has turned into our little comedian though, occasionally struggling to know when a laugh is appropriate and when it is not. Treya delights in showing just how tight she can hug, or how many times, she can kiss your lips</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> in quick succession </span>before you crack a smile. She loves to surprise us in the mornings, having made her own bed, dressed herself for the day and combed her own hair. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Her volume continues to be loud and louder and she still copies Devi’s every move. </span>We are bracing ourselves for a new phase that has begun to appear as our very competitive girl discovers that the world is not always fair and by golly she is determined to tell you all about that in a very loud voice where ever we might be. Most recently I found myself wildly shushing her voice as she spoke, “Mommy, dat woman took our spot in line...no cuts...dats not fair!” Yikers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Devi is a 6 3/4 year old toothless, tall and lean dress wearing girl, and unlike the behavioral struggles she faced in kindergarten, has taken the first grade by storm. This year her biggest struggle is taking time to eat her lunch, which comes home, more often than not, uneaten even when we remind her that Treya is just 2 and a half inches shorter than she and gaining on her. She forever has her nose in a book, often reading sections of her favorites over and over, preferring to read her favorite numbered chapters first, rather than the whole book from cover to cover. She still enjoys princess dress up, building blanket forts, animals of any kind and for some unknown reason talks with a British accent much of the time. Our daughter who once would decline Oreos for carrot sticks, now has announced she only likes sugar. In fact, recently when I asked her to describe what heaven would be like, she said it was just like walking through Candyland for real, where you could eat as much of it as you wanted anytime you wanted, and then quickly added that her Grandma DeeDee, Opa, and our dogs Konrad and Cayenne would be there to eat it with her. She has taken the stance that being the only girl at her daycare with dark skin and dark hair makes her unique and special and she beams when we talk about it and would prefer to stay clear of the kids who “don’t try their hardest” in school.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Sharing Cotton Candy at the Puyallup Fair</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As I’ve come to realize; however, parenting is a non-stop job with little solid ground to stand upon on most days. There seems to be a lot of second guessing going on, as Pat and I discuss the days events before our eyes close at the end of each day. Were we too soft, too harsh, not sympathetic enough, not understanding of their opinions, were we just manipulated and just figuring it out now, or favoring one child’s side over another? Much of the time I feel like a goalie facing the free kicks of the opposing team in the last seconds of a tied game, with little time to analyze the ball in flight or anticipate in which direction it may fly. It just seems that the kids have an uncanny way of painting us into a disciplining corner, where to be consistent and fair, while not blowing one’s top or acting irrational can sometimes be difficult or painful. How many times have I drawn a disciplinary line and as soon as the words leave my lips, I start praying that the kids don’t call my bluff for there is no possible way on God’s green earth I could ever “never let them have family movie night again in their lives”, or “just take them to school naked”, or “just let the brush and comb stay in their hair forever”. One could pretty much inject any absurd phrase, and no doubt either Pat or I have succumb to saying something close to it and cringing after. Thankfully, the kids, at this point still take us seriously, but I fear we’ve got about one more year, before these kinds of threats will cause our children to fall on the floor in an all out belly laugh. Right now we are both relieved that the girls love to spend time with us, forever asking us to tell them stories about when we were young and especially the stories where we got into mischief.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">One would think maneuvering through our days listening to a British child and petting the extra dog we’ve acquired, otherwise known as our Indian born children, that there would be no extra time to think of much else for fear of losing one's mind. But there are still times like these, these milestones, were I still find it hard to fathom that we have been entrusted to guide and direct these beautiful gifts to adulthood. To say that I love them, are not words enough to express how deeply they are rooted to my soul. My heart soars with their triumphs, and aches with their struggles, in ways that celebrating a milestone or counting an anniversary could never fully express. Though the story we tell them is that we filled out human sized stacks of papers and forms, waited for the mercy of a judge, and traveled on a plane, a taxi, a bus, a train, a boat, on an elephant, in an auto rickshaw and made the final journey on foot to get to the place where they lived until we could come for them, the truth is much more simple. God had a plan and it began the moment they were simply placed into my arms. With that transfer of body weight, we took on an unbelievable privilege and a monumental sense of responsibility, and raising our girls became far more than just about love. This job, the most important one of my life, I hope and pray that I will lend it justice, but for now I love that they teach far more than they are taught and I am so willing to learn. Happy Adoption Day Treya, my rutabaga and Happy Forever Family day to Devi, my little turnip! We love you so much!</span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-4865794897865793522013-09-09T21:34:00.000-07:002013-09-09T21:34:19.621-07:00Another First Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> First day of first grade!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> First day of her last year of preschool!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Anticipating September 4th, our district’s official first day of school, had the whole Ross household a bit keyed up that last week of summer. Pat kept asking “When is the first day of school again?”, which exasperates me to no end having to repeat myself to non-listening ears. Devi was in a tug of war with her thoughts weighing the benefits of free time versus organized learning; wearing uniforms again versus just throwing on her coveted favorite flowy dress; and having free use of the school library versus making a selection from our limited home bookshelf of titles. Secretly wishing it were true, Treya was adamantly telling everyone that she was starting kindergarten, though every one who knows her is aware that she has one more year of preschool preparation ahead. I was calm as a cucumber, smugly feeling well prepared UNTIL...I decided to re-check the fit of some of Devi’s uniforms. Dresses and jumpers that fit perfectly less than a month ago, now had hems measuring well above mid-thigh, sinfully breaking every dress code known to man! With no time to debate a sudden growth spurt, I quickly moved these items to the “no longer fits” pile that also held about 15 pair of Treya’s pants!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Now, just days before the “first day” when purchasing online was no longer an option, I was physically out shopping (so not like me!) for pants and one of the hardest items to locate - a short sleeve navy blue polo dress, with no logos, or pockets. This event alone would normally cause our family to become all ruffled up, but thankfully my sister, an avid shopper came along for moral support. In the end, we were successful, bringing my stress level down to a defcon 3 again and Devi was overjoyed at finally having found a belt that actually fits her tiny waist. I am still searching for tights in red and yellow, but certainly a “first day” can occur without all the accessories.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Camping!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As a final quick hooray to say goodbye to summer, we accomplished an overnight camping trip complete with hiking, pond fishing and campfire smores. The girls slept comfortably in a trailer, while Pat and I wrestled with an air mattress, two sleeping bags and the four skewer-like legs of our dog Bengal in the back of our sloping downhill minivan. And just like that, before we knew it, the “first day” was upon us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This year I honed in on boosting brain power, making blueberry pancakes for a hearty breakfast. We discussed their aspirations for the coming year. Devi decided she wants to be a mom, a prima ballerina and a gymnast when she grows up. Her favorite subject is science and she feels as though with maturity has come the desire to change her favorite colors from the typical favorites of pink and purple to red and blue, though you could not fool me. Treya would like to be a mom and asked if she could also be something else (I love the way her brain works) so expanded her dream to include becoming a professional soccer player and a teacher. She still loves purple and nap time is her favorite subject in preschool. The girls appeared dressed and ready soon after our enlightening breakfast, looking spit polished and ready to go. We paused for the ceremonial front porch Kodak moment and then headed up to the preschool/daycare to drop Treya off first. She was thrilled to find out that now that school age kids won’t be at the daycare during the day, her class has now become a group of “older” kids. Beaming, she kissed us goodbye as I reminded her to be a helper and good role model. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Next we arrived at Sherman just as a few kids started to enter the school yard. Though we were a tad early, Devi was antsy to get going and perhaps a little nervous too. She had located her room, found her desk, and met her teacher and a few classmates the day before at the ice cream social making today seem a whole lot more familiar. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Lined up outside the building waiting in anticipation for the bell to ring, it was nice to look around and see friendly faces from last year. We are not newbies any more. It an introspective moment, it felt good to realize that we sort of know what is going on AND we have a fresh new start to the year beginning in minutes. I actually felt excited for Devi and hoped that would help to keep my emotions in check this year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Marching into the building the air was filled with the sound of slamming lockers and hellos shouted from one friend to another over the sea of bobbing heads of students and parents making their way into classrooms. Devi was several feet ahead of us in line waiting to enter room 101. She caught our gaze through the corner of her excited wide eyes. Looking back at us, flashing that huge new toothless smile she mouthed “Will you take a picture of me at my desk?” It is in these rare and fleeting moments that I know she still thinks it is cool to have us around and I love that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Once every one was seated, daddy snapped off a few photos while I passed out the kids’ first assignment for the teacher - a coloring sheet. The students eagerly dug into their boxes of supplies held within their desks and opened fresh boxes of crayolas. It brought back such wonderful childhood memories of my own first days of school watching them begin their first school day. From afar I observed Devi chatting with her friend about the possible color choices held within the box of crayons and realized that she could no longer see me, I had evaporated into the scenery, and she had become totally captivated by the musings of first grade. Sigh. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Hearing our cue, Pat and I waved goodbye and exited the building with the other parents. Once outside he clasped my hand as we headed toward the parking lot lightly chatting about how excited we were for Devi’s school year and about how she is growing up before our very eyes. Then there was a pause and silence. “Another “first day” down”, he finally said as we walked hand in hand, both just a bit misty eyed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <span style="color: #cc0000;">Good bye summer, Hello School year!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Camping in the Mt. Rainier foothills.</span></span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-40681053336213595302013-09-04T22:34:00.000-07:002013-09-04T22:34:30.416-07:00We Rolled Out Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Tonight the house is quiet. Both kids fell into bed after the completion of the first day of school. Where did our summer go? I can see by the nearly complete summer fun list attached to the pantry doors that we did, indeed, have a summer and apparently were rather busy, but it still feels as though the doors of Sherman elementary school just flew open revealing a gaggle of screaming kids eager to enjoy their nearly three months of summer free time. In an effort to bring us back up to date, here is how we passed the time.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">India Camp</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">India camp is fun, loud, exhausting and a host of other things, but the most remarkable thing about camp is not planned, organized or expected. It is magical. For three days our children, most of whom were born in India, gather together to learn about Indian culture. Most of them are aware that they lived in the same orphanage at one point or another, some had bassinets side by side, and others, perhaps, even shared a crib as infants. Past the age of about one year, most of the kids have never seen each other again until camp. Once together; however, the magic begins as the kids unite revealing this undeniable bond with one another. Instant close friendships are evident.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Performance day!</span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Friends, Jenya and Devi before celebrating Holi</span></span></div>
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<img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-64kMVWV7g0c/UigHxQmZkBI/AAAAAAAADg8/2dtn4VPCpxI/s400/after+Holi.jpg" width="346" /></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dBmgpHp4-NE/UigIO08GeGI/AAAAAAAADhM/IkqvrOGER1Y/s1600/firecracker+gilrs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Still friends after celebrating Holi</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">4th of July</span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Our small town hosts a bike parade each year. This year, both girls were able to actually ride their own bikes. First they had the idea of dressing like fireworks...all in tie dye! Then they decorated their rides with red, white and blue. </span><span style="color: #3d85c6;"></span> </div>
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Random fun things</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The largest part of our summer was spent doing random fun things. Treya enjoyed crazy week. One day was crazy hair day. She chose 10 braids!! Daddy treated all his girls to spa nights throughout the summer, painting our toenails all sorts of fun colors...even the Sounders' colors. We performed random acts of kindness AND paid it forward on one of our coffee time and story time outings. The stunned man who was the recipient of a drink on us was dumb founded. Devi completed 178 books in the summer reading club and Treya managed to open 72 books. We attended story time in our PJs at the library every week.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IuZN2ns4Rf0/UigIX6yhVUI/AAAAAAAADhk/stQZh7eFxTs/s1600/spa+night+Devi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IuZN2ns4Rf0/UigIX6yhVUI/AAAAAAAADhk/stQZh7eFxTs/s400/spa+night+Devi.jpg" width="255" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ocean Shores</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">One misty morning I got the bright idea to go to the ocean. Trey desperately wanted us to drive our car on the sand and let Bengal see the water. Check! We did it. Though the weather was not very warm that day, the girls spend hours running into the water, letting the waves chase them out. So did Bengal. We flew kites and had a picnic beside the van...which was parked on the sand!</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QAMDizavlhs/UigIhFDVZ6I/AAAAAAAADhs/O1qQGmmqDYc/s1600/running+to.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QAMDizavlhs/UigIhFDVZ6I/AAAAAAAADhs/O1qQGmmqDYc/s400/running+to.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QafBq1jyhyA/UigIkKDWfYI/AAAAAAAADh0/H5nZZDMNMh8/s1600/running+from.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">They spent hours doing this...</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IKTaNp06oWU/UigIrgQ5vXI/AAAAAAAADh8/QjGyTbufdPU/s1600/kids+with+oma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">...and then this!</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Cousins visit</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Our Colorado relatives came for a visit, which prompted Oma to host a backyard party. The kids had a grand time and we finally took the time to take some much needed updated family photos.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9fUs4OKARt0/UigIuNVrShI/AAAAAAAADiE/XBwM7OYeyOY/s1600/kids+with+papa+and+gail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Oma and her grand kids</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Papa and Gail with their grand kids</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A Wedding!</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A good friend asked the girls to be the flower girls in her wedding. It was a beautiful outdoor event. Treya dropped flower pedals followed by Devi who pulled a wagon which held the bride and grooms two week old baby girl. Precious! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We also managed to hit several Farmer's markets, went camping, fishing, tried a new flavor if ice cream, sent both girls to zoo camp, ate from our garden, took the girls to see Monsters' University - their first movie in a movie theater, and a multitude of other fun summer things. Yes...it is all coming back to me now. We did do summer and now I guess it is time for the leaves to begin to start turning and for another season to grace us with it's presence. Bye summer time...see you next year! </span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-53365628944874825442013-08-07T10:58:00.000-07:002013-08-07T10:58:18.704-07:00A Seasoned Veteran<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Receiving our full attention this year, Treya marched us into the daycare/preschool to find our seats for our fifth dance recital, under the tutelage</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">of teacher Cat. Devi, now too old for this dance program,sat with us in the audience for the first time, ready to celebrate Treya’s accomplishments with a large bouquet of fresh farmer’s market flowers. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> A true creature of habit, Treya took her spot in the appropriate name tagged chair in the dressing room, just as in past years, ready to be dressed for her first number. Blooming with confidence, there was no need to offer encouragement or bolster bravery as stage fright was no where in sight. Trey was prepared and ready to go with her signature gigantic smile plastered all the way across her face. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yEUYdYtu614/UgKGyb4uDtI/AAAAAAAADe4/KqFGvcafLwg/s1600/pink+group%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yEUYdYtu614/UgKGyb4uDtI/AAAAAAAADe4/KqFGvcafLwg/s400/pink+group%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As each of the ten pink tutu clad dancers took the stage, curtsied and found their starting pose on their knees, eyes closed with their head leaning on hands, it became evident that I had seen this dance before. Yes, it was the same “Dreaming of Being a Real Ballerina” performance that Devi danced in her second year as well (also documented in this blog). True to form, Treya also showed so much more maturity and precision in her movements with a whole year of practice under her belt. Recital for her went from being silly in front of a willing audience to serious business showing what she had learned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A tap dance to the inch worm song followed. When single taps took place you could really hear the children were somewhat in unison, but as soon as multiple tapping steps took place in a row, you’d swear we had just been over taken by a cloud of chirping cicadas! Clickity clickity click! The kids were darling none the less and full of enthusiasm, concluding the dance as one long inch worm with their hands on the shoulders of the child in front of them, singing, dancing and smiling out to the audience. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1e7bnuwgAT8/UgKGlbq0RBI/AAAAAAAADeM/oVWQCc_8gvI/s1600/t+animal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1e7bnuwgAT8/UgKGlbq0RBI/AAAAAAAADeM/oVWQCc_8gvI/s400/t+animal.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The week preceding the recital, Treya kept trying to tell me that a big secret would be revealed during the show. I would always follow this with a finger on my lips...shhhh...don’t tell me, I want to be surprised response. Finally, the grand finale was upon us. In walked each of the 10 children with a different animal mask covering their face. They danced to the song <i>I like to move it, move it!</i> It was hilarious with lion roars, and clawing paws and giant elephant steps - obviously the kids’ favorite! When Treya removed her mask she was beaming at us - knowing she had surprised us with a job well done. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qORwuIu3gZo/UgKGm0YucfI/AAAAAAAADeY/UsJa8btglEc/s1600/t+group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qORwuIu3gZo/UgKGm0YucfI/AAAAAAAADeY/UsJa8btglEc/s400/t+group.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hWOgdsPCnVo/UgKGlexvk7I/AAAAAAAADeQ/SUhmXEq2vMU/s1600/t+flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hWOgdsPCnVo/UgKGlexvk7I/AAAAAAAADeQ/SUhmXEq2vMU/s320/t+flowers.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It is amazing to think that not so long ago our jelly bean could not hop or run and could barely jump. Today we saw such coordination, determination and pure joy on her face as she flitted around the stage. She smiled from ear to ear when Devi laid the flowers in her arms and kissed her on the cheek. Good job my little Trey. You are gem and we love you so much! </span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-41869240734830621302013-07-29T11:34:00.003-07:002013-07-29T13:41:20.973-07:00School Daze...and more!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qV4vYO5lc6s/UfIGzDH9t1I/AAAAAAAADcw/emdxUCBxhGk/s1600/d+with+award+bus.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qV4vYO5lc6s/UfIGzDH9t1I/AAAAAAAADcw/emdxUCBxhGk/s400/d+with+award+bus.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MJi-whR051Q/UfIGylWvqGI/AAAAAAAADcg/UCTKgWkUJDA/s1600/d+getting+award.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MJi-whR051Q/UfIGylWvqGI/AAAAAAAADcg/UCTKgWkUJDA/s400/d+getting+award.jpg" width="252" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Adjusting to Kindergarten
was a long process for Devi. Though academics came pretty easily to
her, focusing on schoolwork in a classroom setting with all the rules
that apply were a bit harder to master. So it was a year of trial and
error for her, finding her place, managing her time, controlling her
behavior and figuring out how to get the attention of one teacher for
all the RIGHT reasons. A flashback to instincts honed during orphanage
living? All the children vying for the positive or negative attention of
one? Perhaps, but we will never know for sure. What I do know and will
never forget, is the proud look on Devi’s face and ours when Mr. Stanley
announced her name at a school assembly selecting her for “Outstanding
Student Achievement in Academics”, (with good behavior) recognition she had worked hard all
year to achieve.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EZkZ6Bm3V50/UfIG4716jyI/AAAAAAAADdY/U0DLZ09vO9w/s1600/Treya+spells.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EZkZ6Bm3V50/UfIG4716jyI/AAAAAAAADdY/U0DLZ09vO9w/s400/Treya+spells.jpg" width="261" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So
eager to be going to a big school like sissy, Treya has been working
hard as well, accomplishing her name. She can spell it out loud and now
has mastered the shapes of the drawn letters as well. Treya has made
huge strides in her speech therapy sessions too, successfully
pronouncing several sets of sounds (f, v, s, sh, l) that until recently
had proved difficult for her. She is delighted that people outside of
our family can finally begin to understand her, which has improved her
conversational speech dramatically. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And
while we are on the subject of challenges, I took on one myself,
learning to use fondant on a cake for the first time. This cake was an
"I spy" cake that I donated to Devi's school's cake walk carnival night.
It was really fun to do, though both girls were disappointed that at
the end of the evening it was not coming home with us! </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1nAMFtydW5s/UfIG0MPvrkI/AAAAAAAADc8/Cxux0NvSb00/s1600/i+spy+cake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1nAMFtydW5s/UfIG0MPvrkI/AAAAAAAADc8/Cxux0NvSb00/s400/i+spy+cake.jpg" width="256" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That
about wrapped up our school year, so now to bring the blog a bit more
up to date...a photo montage of the events that followed.</span> </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gqehxPpzsFE/UfIG0viCmDI/AAAAAAAADdM/UhdNMdPlAkQ/s1600/jr+daff.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gqehxPpzsFE/UfIG0viCmDI/AAAAAAAADdM/UhdNMdPlAkQ/s400/jr+daff.jpg" width="252" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In
those few minutes between spring and summer comes our annual Jr.
Daffodil parade. With the weather still questionable at this time of
year, we managed a somewhat sunny day to enjoy the floats and
yes...princesses! who so graciously posed with our girls again this
year, reminding them to do their best in school to one day be a daffodil
princess too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Who wouldn't gladly accept some extra loving on Mother's day? Certainly not me!</span> </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6c6s8uuvpFI/UfIHAdpMg9I/AAAAAAAADd4/jBvO8p3qib4/s1600/mothers+day.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6c6s8uuvpFI/UfIHAdpMg9I/AAAAAAAADd4/jBvO8p3qib4/s400/mothers+day.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thrilled
to have Devi request my presence as a chaperone on her first field
trip, and realizing that I am still cool in her book for a little
longer, I gladly took the day off from work to join the fun. I have sort
of dreamed of accompanying my kids on trips like these, and it was
everything I had ever hoped for. Pouring rain during the mostly outdoor
excursion to the zoo corralling 23 kindergarteners, each trying to
display their best behavior, but bursting with excitement to tell "Mrs.
Devi's mom" about touching sting rays, seeing a baby spotted leopard,
and enjoying a sack lunch packed with special things just for this long
awaited trip. Devi was enthralled with feeding the Budgies!</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A4CO7NiUnac/UfIGy8wzq-I/AAAAAAAADdQ/Ew_DotZIivo/s1600/d+feeding+budgie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A4CO7NiUnac/UfIGy8wzq-I/AAAAAAAADdQ/Ew_DotZIivo/s400/d+feeding+budgie.jpg" width="330" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What do you do on a rainy day? We play pirates! </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yNMfy3YVdu4/UfIHAdLSAJI/AAAAAAAADdk/5ODiiojgX3w/s1600/pirates.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="388" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yNMfy3YVdu4/UfIHAdLSAJI/AAAAAAAADdk/5ODiiojgX3w/s400/pirates.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Daddy enjoyed his extra loving on Father's day too! </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cUjjM3i9bRw/UfIG0StcuRI/AAAAAAAADdE/ECqkKQM374k/s1600/fathers+day.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="330" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cUjjM3i9bRw/UfIG0StcuRI/AAAAAAAADdE/ECqkKQM374k/s400/fathers+day.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EI6HakrO8c0/UfIHAQY_iUI/AAAAAAAADdo/GCS-_8qsKCQ/s1600/sleep+over.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EI6HakrO8c0/UfIHAQY_iUI/AAAAAAAADdo/GCS-_8qsKCQ/s400/sleep+over.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The
girls were ecstatic when they found out their cousin Lina was coming to
Washington! The two high-lights were a really sleep over where Devi
gave up her bed to her cousin and all three girls slept in the same
room. A first for our two girly girls, I thought for sure, I would be
breaking it up after an hour or so. I was amazed that they actually went
to sleep....almost on time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Days
before Lina's arrival, Dee and Trey decided they needed a tea party,
busying themselves making place cards for the seating arrangement and
selecting the menu. Mini cupcakes, fruit, goldfish and pretzels were
served with strawberry lemonade the perfect pairing. Lina was a very
gracious guest of honor playing along with the girls, which totally made
their day. Oh...no grown ups were allowed! </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6t_8TZ7mreQ/UfIHBJ31GAI/AAAAAAAADd0/lF4VyD5GVcI/s1600/tea+party.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="336" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6t_8TZ7mreQ/UfIHBJ31GAI/AAAAAAAADd0/lF4VyD5GVcI/s400/tea+party.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bfTUjc8KKdQ/UfIGzZb7aUI/AAAAAAAADcs/HWSjyVH6cqQ/s1600/d+with+beng.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bfTUjc8KKdQ/UfIGzZb7aUI/AAAAAAAADcs/HWSjyVH6cqQ/s320/d+with+beng.jpg" width="245" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And,
if I haven't mentioned Bengal in awhile, well he is doing great, but
now that he has grown to where his head can comfortably lay on the
kitchen counter, he has become the counter surfer who is both clever and
cunning. To date he has consumed bags of fresh made cookies from our
neighbor, a whole loaf of french bread, muffins, countless leftover
sausages, 6 raw chicken breasts and a half of a pizza...twice! Somehow,
he does manage some self control, leaving the fruit bowl untouched. Such
a good boy!</span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-24257637819403161462013-07-11T21:15:00.000-07:002013-07-11T21:15:02.000-07:00Refueling...on Spring Break!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G37fRI-0cTQ/Ud92KOH6wuI/AAAAAAAADaQ/yCDzwt6wGkk/s1600/beach+buddies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G37fRI-0cTQ/Ud92KOH6wuI/AAAAAAAADaQ/yCDzwt6wGkk/s400/beach+buddies.jpg" width="370" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Spring Break in Mexico!</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a bit of a hiatus, I
am back. The reason? Well, it was really a series of unfortunate events
that lead to the break and not the lack of things to share. Close
friends can attest to the fact that I am rarely at a loss for words. The
problem began when my iphoto library went kaput on my mac. What is a
post without photos? My own fault really, because when talking about
memory, it is an intangible thing that seems vast and plentiful, unlike
an open refrigerator, where one glance reveals an obvious trip to the
grocery is in order to replenish something. When the machine’s memory
is gone, so are all things you’ve asked it to remember. Lesson
learned...never ignore the polite messages reminding you that your start
up disk is getting full (said while slapping the back of my own hand).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Secondly, I never
realized how difficult (read time consuming) it would be to make it
through kindergarten! Gone is nap time, finger painting and eating a two
peanut snack at a snail’s pace. All of those memories from my childhood
have been replaced with Devi’s full day classes, book club, writing
homework, science experiments, not to mention all the extra curricular
activities that take place after school. After recovering from the shock
of this first-child-in-school adjustment - just when I thought I had
hit my stride - these events: teacher appreciation WEEK, carnival,
auction, jog-a-thon, crazy week, field day, book fair...and the list
goes on, began to accelerate right up to the end of the year.</span></span> </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bu2r-_oFFZE/Ud92MrpODaI/AAAAAAAADbQ/CQv2cLPoN4E/s1600/girls+swim+with+pat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bu2r-_oFFZE/Ud92MrpODaI/AAAAAAAADbQ/CQv2cLPoN4E/s400/girls+swim+with+pat.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H4vGyEiaQoA/Ud92KjmXhlI/AAAAAAAADag/g679CbhsIc8/s1600/d+braids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H4vGyEiaQoA/Ud92KjmXhlI/AAAAAAAADag/g679CbhsIc8/s400/d+braids.jpg" width="371" /><span id="goog_220940717"></span><span id="goog_220940718"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Devi, our most seasoned
traveler, had a few “firsts” she wanted to accomplish this trip, while
Treya our little echo, was game for whatever big sister wanted. That
makes things easy for mom and dad, until Treya realized what big sister
was getting her into! First on Dee’s list? The signature hair style of
corn-row braids with beads, which Devi thought was the perfect souvenir
to wear into the classroom to show her friends at the end of break. For
Treya, this meant sitting still for a long time, while someone fiddled
with her hair - two of her least favorite things. Though she had an
anxious look on her face the entire time, she was a trooper, tag teamed
by two women to get the job done quickly. Both girls were delighted with
the results, their new “dos” putting a spring in their step. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SbESuQsbJcY/Ud92K9I-0XI/AAAAAAAADac/E9aaX9Obz6Y/s1600/d+spa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="371" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SbESuQsbJcY/Ud92K9I-0XI/AAAAAAAADac/E9aaX9Obz6Y/s400/d+spa.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2TcBNXCjL5A/Ud92OMzljWI/AAAAAAAADbs/NBN5YMLJsP0/s1600/t+spa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2TcBNXCjL5A/Ud92OMzljWI/AAAAAAAADbs/NBN5YMLJsP0/s400/t+spa.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Daddy
surprised us girls with a trip to the spa for pedicures, while
he....ahem....guarded our loungers by the pool! Another first, the
girls were fascinated by the whole idea of being pampered in this way,
carefully selecting two colors of polish - silver and orange - and
requesting polka-dots! Another test in patience for Treya, her feet were
soaked, nails were trimmed and her three toenails were painted and dry
in a jiffy. Devi was delighted as well, thrilled that her open-toed
sandals showed off her freshly decorated tootsies. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gpgw597_964/Ud92SGIOASI/AAAAAAAADcI/IIM1UeGez0E/s1600/us+in+mex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gpgw597_964/Ud92SGIOASI/AAAAAAAADcI/IIM1UeGez0E/s400/us+in+mex.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylRnkMOFhdk/Ud92N0K08aI/AAAAAAAADbw/k1xsr1Q7qQM/s1600/t+chop+stix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylRnkMOFhdk/Ud92N0K08aI/AAAAAAAADbw/k1xsr1Q7qQM/s400/t+chop+stix.jpg" width="326" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"> Treya masters chopsticks at Zen restaurant</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KuWQ3LU9tHg/Ud92KFoC3uI/AAAAAAAADaM/uWfdWCDb3W4/s1600/d+argentine+rest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KuWQ3LU9tHg/Ud92KFoC3uI/AAAAAAAADaM/uWfdWCDb3W4/s400/d+argentine+rest.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;"> Devi tries the filet at Ipanema restaurant</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Slated as my early 50th
birthday get-away, (good heavens, can I really be THAT old?) I indulged
in a wonderful massage, we managed to dine at all the restaurants on the
resort and saw a number of the nightly shows. Michael Jackson night -
was the highlight for the girls as they munched popcorn and continually
asked me if the guy dancing around the stage was really him? Because we traveled on Easter, I had
craftily hidden plastic treasured-filled eggs in my luggage for an egg
hunt that Pat and I managed to arrange for the girls. A very confused
French couple watched from afar, our language barrier making it too
difficult to explain why we were encouraging our girls to traipse
through the bushes of the immaculate gardens. As always we met lovely
people, two couples we befriended were from Canada. One of the gentleman
was nick named Mr. Piggy and actually requested our girls to call him
by that name. For two young girls how fun is that?</span></span> </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eO8TIJO0apc/Ud92M2MLJOI/AAAAAAAADbM/TGdYYN_5L-Q/s1600/girsl+dancng+mex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eO8TIJO0apc/Ud92M2MLJOI/AAAAAAAADbM/TGdYYN_5L-Q/s400/girsl+dancng+mex.jpg" width="243" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: red;">Our little dancers!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Shock of the trip? Treya will now let her feet touch sand.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Treya had a fever for two days of the trip, but</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: red;">it didn't seem to slow her down one bit!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As always our week flies
by in an instant it seems, much like my absence from the blog. If you’ve
managed to read all the way to the bottom of this, let me just say
thanks. So many of you mentioned that you were tired of opening “A
Princess...” to find Treya still holding up those shoes! Others said
they have missed watching the girls grow and change. I’ve missed sharing our story and it warms my heart to know that so many are still interested. Isn’t
it true, though? Watching a child blossom can be so captivating! Now,
playing catch up, on to the next post and preparing for first grade! HOLA!</span></span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-81171797202399727532013-03-15T15:43:00.004-07:002013-03-15T15:43:59.761-07:00Growing Right Out Of Her Shoes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />For the past 2 years Treya has been wearing Ponsetti shoes at night to help correct her clubfeet. During that time she rarely complained about wearing them. In fact, at times the routine of wearing her shoes seemed to bring her comfort. We have cut the feet out of many a pair of footed pajamas during that time, arranged her bed so that she could sleep with just a light weight blanket over her or no blanket at all to keep from getting the connecting bar all tangled in sheets, and have carried her to the bathroom in the middle of the night with one eye open on many an occasion. Outside of a night here or there with growing pains, at no point during this time did she have issues over wearing the shoes. They even made two trips to Mexico with us. Treya has been a trooper through all of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But as the days leading up to her latest foot appointment </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">at Chrildren’s Hospital</span> ticked away</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">, Treya’s patience had grown thin. Every night she had an itch between her toes, her legs hurt, her socks were bunched up, the shoes were too tight or one of countless other maladies were ailing her. At 4 years of age, the bones in one’s feet solidify so this is the cut off point for this form of therapy - a fact we've all known throughout the process. We were all hoping we could kiss those blue suede shoes goodbye, but none more than Treya. (By the way, they really are blue suede!) <br /><br />Dr. Mosca was extremely pleased with the angle in which she can bend both feet, how her feet support her body weight when she walks, and the fact that she can hop on one of her legs. So having passed all those tests, he declared her a boot with bars graduate! Treya cheered, fist bumped and gave high fives to the doctor and he presented her with a certificate of completion. Though we still will make six month visits, no more shoes need to be worn at night! Whoo Hoo!<br /><br />Treya couldn’t wait to wear footy pajamas that night and dashed upstairs to change the moment we returned from our celebratory dinner out...with durt (Treya’s word for dessert). She also slept under her covers for the first time AND took herself to the bathroom in the middle of the night...not because she HAD to go, but that she COULD. Night time has taken on a whole new kind of excitement with our new and improved routine. Both girls are ready to hit the sheets in no time and sleep usually follows 5 minutes after lights out. No longer do we find Treya in odd and compromising positions that look so uncomfortable that sleep seemed impossible. Instead she has reverted to that incredibly tight face down ball with legs crossed beneath her, reminiscent of when she first joined our family.<br /><br />Treya’s communication skills have improved as well and with it has come the Treya twist on discovering the world around her. She is obsessed with driving a car. Leaning way over in her car seat, she is able to see through the windshield, announcing EVERY TIME the car in front of us has applied the brake pedal or the gas pedal. She also gives driving advice to me as I drive, such as red light coming, green light now, slow down - brake, speed up - gas. All of this help comes free of charge. <br /><br />She also has had a lengthy conversation with me about wanting her own live baby, claiming that she is ready. I asked her who would take care of her baby and she said that she wanted to dress it and feed it, but when she is in preschool daddy and I could care for her baby. I immediately set her straight on that point and then asked who her husband was going to be, because he should help to care for their baby. After explaining that her first choice of daddy was all ready taken, she said, "no husband" to which I said yes, she needed a husband. Then she said, “husband does not matter, any boy”. I don’t know if this is cause for concern yet or not, but we will definitely expand on THAT conversation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />And while on the subject of babies, Devi’s class has been studying the human body. It is not uncommon for her to be in constant jabber mode, listing the name of all the bones or commenting on how there is actually acid in your stomach with arms that grab your food or some other remarkably fascinating body fact. In her ramblings the other day she also threw in, “ oh... and mom...did you know that babies don’t always get cut out of a momma’s belly? Sometimes they come out of a hole, but I don’t remember which one. How DO they come out”. That sparked a long conversation about how a momma’s hips widen to make room for when the baby is ready to be born. After about 20, “Yes, but how?” questions she said, “Oh! just like an orchestra, the mommy and baby work together!” Well....yes, I guess they do. <br /><br />With childhood obesity so prominent these days, we’ve found that our kids get informed at school as well as home. The girls have been all interested in how I plan a meal, helping to decide what goes on their plates - protein, carbohydrates, vegetables and fruit. We DO have dessert in our house every night, but the kids think dessert is yogurt or fruit and occasionally a sweet treat. After Valentine’s day, Treya had a piece or two of candy from school. When I asked Treya what she would like for dessert she said, “I choose yogrette for durt, cause candy not healthy.” and on another occasion answered, “No durt, I so full my brain is hurting.” I guess that is pretty darned full!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Moments before...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Lastly, there is the dog. With all this talk about feet, I have to mention his latest mishap. Though you would have thought he was dying when it happened, he managed to break a toe. Poor baby. After 8 weeks of healing time we hear he will be good as new!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> $500 later!</span></span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-46812681717636190782013-02-14T07:52:00.001-08:002013-02-14T08:54:04.623-08:00My Perfect Meal!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When I consider my loves on this Valentine’s day, I am joyful. I have a wonderful husband, who appreciates me in ways that no other could possibly find appealing. He enjoys from me, the way I fret, the peculiar phrases I make up, my mispronounced words or the grimaces I give him when he is driving me crazy....when frustration that borders fury turns to laughter and a cracked smile. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Then there is the love/hate debate that I have over some of his habits like leaving the door to the dishwasher down, or the fact that there are stacks of clothes in the closet, but our dresser remains empty, or that our counters are always full of crumbs even after he is done cleaning the kitchen. The best is the familiar fffffwwaapp, fwap, fwap, fwap sound that the plastic bread sack makes when he slaps it’s side, causing the bag to spin and twist holding in the bread’s freshness. I know at that moment that I don’t even need look up - knowing with both his hands occupied, a multigrain slice will be hanging tightly in his mouth. There is something oddly comforting that comes with that kind of predictability. We’ve reached that point after 24 and a half years married that sometimes our hurried words with kids at our feet just lead to a furrowed brow and further miscommunication, but other times in just a glance we can have a whole conversation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />Taking my hubs and adding my two little lovelies is like the delicate pairing of wine and food that enhances one’s culinary enjoyment. Where Pat is my intoxicant (I was smitten by him from the beginning), the girls are my savory. They are both piquantly pleasant to my mind, forever stimulating our conversations with acutely curious observations and worldly wisdom as seen through their youthful eyes of wonder.<br /><br />In the spray of water from our two shower heads the other day, Devi and I were soaping up she pointed to her belly button and said...<br />“Momma, I know what this is.” I said, “Of course you do, silly, it is your belly button - your beboh!” <br />“No, it is where my unbilipal cord hooked me to my real momma.” <br />“Well, sweetie, you are right, it IS where your umbilical cord hooked you to your birth mother, but when you say REAL momma, your birth mother and I are both REAL mommas. Remember, birth mother or tummy momma means that she is the one that grew you in her tummy. I really wish I could have grown you in MY tummy, but I couldn’t.”<br />“Well, your unbilipal cord is blue and green and all wrinkly.”<br />“How do you know? Have you seen pictures of one or something?”<br />“Yes, Mr. Stanley showed us. It works like a straw so that I could suck food and stuff from my tummy momma.”<br />“Oh, I see. Do you have any other questions about your umbilical cord?”<br />“No.”<br />Long pause...<br />“Mom?”<br />“Yes pumpkin pie...”<br />“I’m glad you could not grow me in your tummy.”<br />“Why is that?”<br />“Because then when you came for me, it was really the first time you ever saw me!”<br />“Well, then I guess I am glad too!”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Devi has been learning
about Native American Indians. She is fascinated by the fact that though
she is an Indian...she is not a Native American one - she is a South
Asian Indian. She also LOVES the planets. After learning that Mars could
sustain life, she has decided she would like to be the first one there.
Last weekend was spent on a science experiment trying to create the
conditions on Mars. So she made her own "polar icecaps". Devi took a
bowl of water and placed it in the freezer...she added red food coloring
to make in look more like Mars AND gold fish that became the "rocks"
and cheerios that became the "asteroids". She was completely thrilled
with the result! I love how inquisitive she has become and will never
tire of watching the fascination that overcomes her face with the joy of learning something new.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If titles were given to family members, Treya’s would be Executive Assistant or Assistant to the Director. She would be the one who hands the head of the household their perfectly brewed coffee moments before they ask. She keeps track of the daily schedule, with planned events and location committed to memory, forever telling me, "I memburin" you, momma." This meaning I am reminding you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Up until recently, Treya's conversations have been mostly about what she wants or needs, but lately we have noticed a new depth to them. Her curiosity has become more keenly aware of the world around her. As we were driving along the waterfront recently she was watching some birds fly very close to the water and she asked, "Momma, are dher dissies [fishies] down dher?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Yes!", I said. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Well are dhey gonna eat dows birdies?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"No sweetie, I think those birds are going to eat the fishies for lunch."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Dows birdies like fishies or not?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Yes, they do."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Realizing what the birds were flying low looking for food, she shook her head and said, "Oh man. Poor dissies."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span class="userContent">Yesterday
when I was putting Treya in her car seat after preschool, she pulled a
penny out of her pocket. She pointed to the face on the front and said,
"Momma, dhat guy is hadding a burtday! Ms. Shannon say he tall wit a
bured [beard]." So excited that her conversations have become so full of
wonderful learned facts and bits of trivia. It is so fun to witness her
learning and I soak up each and every conversation!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The last of my loves, though not pictured, is Bengal the dog. I'll call him the dessert. A counter surfer, he steals my meals right out from under my nose (6 raw chicken breasts) without so much as a sound, a spilled drop or footprint. He loves to be chased, though at 40 mph who is fooling who? A hassle at times, his all-4-paws-up-in-the-air favorite sleeping position brings a smile every time. He is definitely just one of the family who wants to be with us all the time. I suppose that is why he joined us last Friday night...in the shower! Yes, all 5 of us at once, in the shower, together...with soap! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At times it seems that the fast pace of life keeps me from truly appreciating all these wonderful little things about all of my loves. I cannot think of a finer time than Valentine's day to stop, pause and consider each of mine. Happy Valentine's day - mine is delicious!</span></span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-49273795854250542302013-01-29T22:46:00.000-08:002013-01-29T22:59:40.045-08:00All Girls Momma...Again!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> Princess Treya turns 4!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Through eyes glued shut from cold season goop, our birthday girl struggled to see the house that had undergone a royal transformation in the night. Peering down over the second floor railing into our family room, she spied the Ross castle with turrets, flag and flowers forever in bloom, and in pj's, with her head still perched on my shoulder said, “Cool!”<br /><br />For the weeks preceding the party, Treya had been reciting the guest list trying to remember all of her little princess friends who were coming. It was so cute to watch her count each child on her fingers, so tense and serious about just who would be arriving. True to form, she reminded me “...all girls momma, no boys” just as her sister did 2 short years ago. She even told Aunt Joan, that Uncle Bill was not allowed because HE was a boy too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Dressed in princess finery, Treya managed to sit still long enough for me to complete her first up-do. A huge bun of curls, held in place with lots of pins and about 6 pounds of hairspray, was encircled with a crown right on top of her head. She beamed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />One by one the guests, each wearing gowns full of sparkles, glitter and poofs, arrived and were escorted into the craft area for wand making and princess coloring. Once they were all warmed up we began our party, learning the attributes required to be a real princess. <br /><br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">First they showed “friendship” by holding hands for a large group picture. This feat earned each girl a gold foil wrapped coin to put into their monogrammed wristlet bag. Next they showed “bravery” by tossing apples into the hands of a hungry dragon who sat a few feet away, earning another gold coin to add to their bags. “Grace” was demonstrated as the nine little princesses flitted about, dancing to princess music with scarves, who were incredibly light on their feet, earning their third coin. I even got the mother’s involved in this one. There were no wall flowers allowed at this party! <br /><br /> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Next, the girls learned “Hope” as each blindfolded princess taped a paper set of sticky lips on our frog, in the hopes that one lucky princess would turn him into a prince, but there was no such luck. So collectively we closed our eyes and waved the wands we had made and said, “Bibbity boppity boo!” Low and behold, when we opened our eyes the frog had vanished and in his place sat royalty. Our Prince daddy sat on the throne, which brought gasps and giggles from our surprised guests. He passed out the next coin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />Prince daddy read <i>Princess Bess Gets Dressed </i>to our guests while lunch was prepared. The girls used “Manners” and discussed those special words we use at the table while dining on castle shaped PB&Js, magic wand fruit kabobs, Ritzy crackers, veggies and dip and Treya’s favorite....chicken nuggets. This attribute earned them their last coin to add to their bags. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />With a me-me-mes, all voices were warmed up as we sang a beautiful rendition of Happy Birthday to Treya, who in her excitement covered her open mouth of surprise with both hands. We first saw this trait of Trey’s a few days after meeting her in India. Knocking down towers of stacking blocks brought on this reaction, which were the first real smiles we ever witnessed from her. Knowing exactly what to do this year, it took her three great breaths to blow out all four candles on the cupcakes that surrounded the purple princess doll cake. It was beautiful, just like Treya herself,but unfortunately the front had been sampled by the dog before the party began. Luckily, it only took a spatula and few extra sprinkles and some curly ribbon to make the repair. The dog was banished to the dungeon!<br /><br />While gifts were opened, all of Treya’s friends played in the table top castle with the puppets. Somehow our whole play kitchen full of gadgetry managed to end up in there as well. Treya would open a gift and then go find which child to thank, by sticking her big hair head into the windows of the castle. It was so cute. As the party ended, each girl showed me their wrist bag of coins, proving they had completed all the princess tasks, which earned them a happily ever after bag of goodies to take home with them. <br /><br />The party was the icing on the cake of a nearly full week of celebration. Treya’s birthday actually fell on Monday the 21st. By coincidence, Treya’s VIP week at preschool fell on the same week as her birthday, so she got to bring treats to school and a poster of pictures that told all about her. She also got to do show and tell every day of the week bringing in something special to show to the class, every single day. And as always, Uncle Tim (a family friend) brought his annual bouquet of flowers! She got the royal treatment all week long!</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k7_kyntUeGw/UQi99l_gCDI/AAAAAAAADSY/0J5PFoobhs4/s1600/flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /><br />Typically we let the girls choose the restaurant for their birthday dinner, which really is about which restaurant sings to you and has the best dessert, but this year we chose the RAM for Treya. Two weeks prior to the big day, I had received a phone call that her name had been chosen as the winner of a summer drawing she had entered. Pat, Devi and I were the only ones in the know when we took our seats right in the middle of the restaurant so everyone could see us. Near the end of our meal, the manager came asking for Treya. Treya played right into the woman’s plan holding up four fingers and announcing it was her birthday. Donna said, “Treya, I think I have something that belongs to you.” A few moments later, out she came stopping in front of our table. Treya looked completely baffled, so I leaned over to her and said, “I think this is for you. It is all yours!” There in front of her, practically glowing, was a brand new pink princess bike, with heart shaped pedals and balloons tied to the handle bars. Treya’s eyes got as big as saucers, she gasped and completely lost all breath. She leaped up and hugged the manager around the legs and then climbed aboard her new bike. Then she jumped off and went and hugged the woman’s legs again. It took her awhile to realize that this bike was all hers, as she kept thinking it was for her and Devi to share. It was priceless.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So with new bike in the garage, a pile of presents still to be discovered, and a kitchen table castle still filling my family room, our Treya has successfully had her second birthday party and has turned 4. We love you princess Treya! Happy Birthday!!</span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-34704428166622845162013-01-22T21:19:00.000-08:002013-01-22T21:19:32.300-08:00Our Child Within A Child<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">2nd Forever Family Day - 2013</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> 1st Forever Fa<span style="font-size: small;">mily <span style="font-size: small;">Day - <span style="font-size: small;">2012</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> The day we be<span style="font-size: small;">came a family - January 21st, 2011</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Like many adoptive mother’s, I try to keep my fingers on the pulse of the adoption world, as it is one of my favorite subjects with which to bend one’s ear. For most of the past year; however, the news has been less than positive as the stories of families joined have been few and far between, with nothing but longer wait times in sight for friends in progress. Recently, a few friends have taken steps forward, with one or two even seeing the first glimpses of the children that will one day join their own families and another one or two families who have actually traveled to their children. This warms my heart and sends me back to that day for us two years ago when our Treya joined our family forever.<br /><br />I can hardly remember that timid girl we first met. The one who would run from us wearing clumsy leg braces that clearly did nothing but slow her down. She was adorable with a cute little pot belly that pushed out, arching her back and tucking her square chin. Her skin was so powdered, her complexion was more fair than mine. How I longed to just pick her up and snuggle her, but quite clearly, we had entered her perfectly happy and content world all ready in progress and her needs were all ready being met. She was stoic, hardly spoke and interacted with no other children. Her time was spent with the ayahs that cared deeply for her. I vividly remember the sadness that overcame me when I asked who shared a crib with Sonalika at night. The response was “With anyone. She has no connection to anyone else.” Sonalika got pleasure from the order of things, putting things away, showing where she slept, or the organization in how a meal was served. Her spot was beside whomever was hand feeding the finger fulls of rice.When she was full, unlike the others who kept seated at the table, she would get up and walk away. It was evident that she didn’t see the point in playing, because working in the kitchen or folding clothes in the back room was far more resourceful - this being one of the only personality traits she has kept from her young life.<br /><br />Comparing that with the changes and growth we have seen in Treya in two short years is astounding. When I stare into her forever smiling face, I can hardly believe she is the same child. Occasionally, I find myself staring at this beautiful little girl and see so little that is reminiscent of the child we met. Even her cute Indian head bobble is gone. This reminds me of something I read in an adoption book that said to expect to see the biggest jumps in growth when a child has been with their family longer than they lived in an orphanage. Today, we cross that milestone, as Treya turns 4 and has now spent half of her life with us. In this first month of the new year alone we have watched our pudgy baby blossom into a lanky little girl.<br /><br />Treya decided she is too old for Pull-Ups. We’ve left her in them because she does have an occasional accident, and can not get up out of bed at night due to the corrective shoes she wears to bed. “I a big gurwl, momma!” Yes, sweetie you are, so away they went. The bed rails? Gone. This one was frightening because she is a prize fighter in bed typically, but to date has not fallen out once. Treya has nearly mastered hopping on one foot, a true accomplishment, when you consider that two years ago she fell often and could not run or jump. She has moved from her baby car seat to a toddler car seat with a cup holder (a very grown up accessory) and she can clip some of the restraints herself. Once silent, now she LOVES to sing and has taken to singing her own lullaby to herself at night while we listen. The words are a jumbled mess with a contagious giggle breaking through from time to time, but the tune is recognizable. You know that when she is singing, she truly adores herself. She has gone from being a righty to becoming a lefty, due to surgery and yesterday, beaming with pride, wrote her name for the first time unassisted! Her lefty scissors are a prized possession by the way.<br /><br />Though speech proves to still be difficult, she manages to get her message across eventually. Once a woman of few words, she now has a lot to say, often starting over again and again to make sure she is telling the entire story in order. She has two favorite phrases. One is “Here's the deal...” then she starts her speech, but because she is a bit of a copycat, often times she will repeat what you’ve just said, truly believing it was her independent thought, making it difficult not to chuckle under one’s breath. Easily confused by sarcasm and how quickly we all change from subject to subject she also gives small summaries to ensure she is keeping up with what is said. Ninety percent of her sentences begin with “SO” <span style="font-size: small;">(<span style="font-size: small;">she says <span style="font-size: small;">Dough) </span></span></span>her second favorite phrase. Treya always addresses the person she is speaking with by saying their name after each sentence. If you don’t acknowledge her, she will continue to say your name until she is certain she has your full attention before moving on with what she wanted to share. This alone can make conversations go sideways or she will forget what she was going to say while she waits for your acknowledgement. In her flustered state she will just say “I love you”. I guess that is way better answer than I forgot what I was going to say!<br /><br />Jam packed with celebration this week, we’ve tested poor Treya’s limits of comprehension. Not only does her Forever Family Day and Birthday fall on the same day, but she is also coincidentally the VIP at preschool this week AND her princess party with friends is this coming Sunday. Because of this, we celebrated her forever family day on the day we first met (the 19th), rather than when she left the orphanage with us on her birthday. <br /><br />I cooked an Indian feast of some of Treya’s favorite dishes. Pickles!!! She loves Indian pickles. Paneer!!! Yes, I made and served Indian cheese. Rice!!! True since the day we met, the girl adores her basmati rice. I will never forget watching her stand and cry at the room service cart after dinner one night while we were still in India, trying desperately to see what she wanted. It was the rice. She cleaned up every last grain on the plate every time. And the reason for the multiple exclamation points on those words? Our once silent child is actually very very loud! Both Pat and I are constantly reminding her she only needs to speak loudly enough for the person she is talking with to hear. The neighbors down the street don’t care to know what she is talking about. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Muttar Paneer</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In addition to the our savory meal, we lit a special candle in Treya’s honor and we snuggled up on the couch to peer through the pages of her Life book together. Laughing at her tiny and crooked foot prints, a photo of her wrinkly face at 6 days old, and the lock of hair collected from her first hair cut, we marveled at the changes in everything about her. Our once emotionless girl, now boils over with compassion for others, she is quick to say she is sorry and to comfort anyone who is in need. Those sink-into-me snuggles I longed for so desperately two years ago, though she made me work for it, are freely given and were so worth the wait. I will never tire of her weight in my lap, our arms around each other with her fingers intertwined with mine. I love to breathe in the scent of her hair and dot her broad forehead with kisses, which are usually met with her protests and giggles. That forehead is simply irresistible. <br /><br />Though the day started out very confusing for her, by it’s end, I think she finally understood why we were celebrating. Treya Marie Sonalika Ross, you are our miracle. A child within a child, that just needed a little coaxing to come out. Happy Second Forever Family Day. We love you jelly bean!!! This I hope the neighbors down the street DO hear!</span></span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-90286585424906353932013-01-06T20:23:00.000-08:002013-01-06T20:23:08.344-08:00Random Acts of Kindness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">About a week before Christmas, I was sitting on the couch, busy addressing envelopes, watching a Christmas hallmark television program. Devi, still sleepy-eyed and warm from napping, quietly made her way down the stairs, her pokey wrapped thumb still stuck in her mouth, and curled up next to me as I worked. <br /><br />A St. Jude commercial came on with Jennifer Aniston talking to two young girls. The girls were bald from the side effects of the chemotherapy they were receiving. They talked about how nice it would be to get well and not have cancer anymore and to have hair again. Not new to the word cancer, it never occurred to Devi that this disease could effect young people just like her. This sparked a conversation between Dev and I about their illness and hair loss and she decided she would like to help them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the BEFORE</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So, the day after Christmas I took her to her first salon and she explained to Cherlym, the stylist, that she hoped to donate her hair to Locks of Love for these sick young girls. After a quick washing her beautiful wavy black hair was combed straight. Cherlym, pulled Devi’s hair into a ponytail and measured it to ensure she had the required 10+ inches to takes for donation. Devi had hoped that her hair would still be over her shoulders but, we found that in order to have the length required, it would have to be shorter than she’d hoped. A big decision - she decided that she would much rather donate it then to keep it for herself. <br /><br />With that, the stylist took her scissors and began to cut through the thick rope-like ponytail, over two inches in diameter. At this point I was not sure what was going to happen. Devi can be a bit of a drama queen so I could really envision this scenario going one of two ways; complete breakdown with tears was what I was hoping to avoid. Rising to the occasion, a broad grin filled her face as she watched the reflection in the mirror she faced as the last few strands were cut through releasing the pony tail from the nape of her neck. After blow drying, Devi was admiring herself in a hand held mirror and I asked if she liked her new look. She replied, “Nope, I don’t like it....I LOVE it!” Now days later, her chopped ponytail is finally dry and we can send it off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the AFTER</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">After Christmas the four of us decided it was time to go through the playroom and donate some of the toys that we no longer play with. Typically, I have total support until I pick up the first item for inspection and then find that no one can manage to part with a thing. Everything seems to be special, or came from someone special, or reminds them of a special time (I type this while rolling my eyes). This time; however, Treya, in “matching donation” style decided if she couldn’t donate her hair, she would donate toys. <br /><br />I soon realized that she did not quite understand the whole concept that once something is put in the donation box, it does not come back out. At the rate she was going her room would be empty with not so much as a bed left in it, but at the time she was feeling really good about these decisions. So we back pedaled a bit, and together made some better choices, filling more than one box of items to be loved on by someone else AND we packed a few things away as keepsakes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With the last of the "TREES" eaten, I have one final RAOK. It is a secret. I received a phone call yesterday that Treya’s name was chosen in a drawing and she has won a bicycle! They called to chat with me about her favorite color and character so they can choose just the right one for her. I know she will be thrilled beyond words about this, especially since her birthday is in two short weeks! </span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-23972263785540248472013-01-02T22:42:00.001-08:002013-01-02T22:42:37.018-08:00Counting our Blessings on Christmas 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> The Ross Family - Christmas 2012</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With one eye slit open, I spied my bedside clock...4:48am! “Momma, Santa came. He really came!” <br /><br />That is how Christmas morning 2012 began - though it seemed more like the middle of the night! Recounting the message given at church the night before, I truly wanted to count my blessings, but at that very moment I was having difficulty recognizing the positive point about having a early rising small child. In truth, Devi really only needed Santa’s reassurance and then gladly went back to bed until 5:48 am. At that point, we pulled her into bed with us, with the pitter patter of Treya’s feet soon to follow. For the next hour, GET UP negotiations ensued amongst the four of us, five counting Bengal who whined here and there to be included, until Pat and I finally relented, opening our tired eyes at 7.</span><br />
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On our way to church Christmas Eve</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Nearly as dear and robust as their tear jerker rendition of Hark the Herald Angel’s sing the night before at church, the girls sang a hearty round of the happy birthday song to Jesus at the nativity and then Devi bounded down the hall toward the illuminated tree that sparkled in the early morning darkness. Treya, always with food on her mind, headed for the kitchen, certain that we would start making breakfast first. Corrected, she doubled back to the tree where the girls found the butterfly and lady bug Dream Lites that they had asked Santa for. Needing no encouragement, Treya dumped her stocking squealing with glee as an assortment of treasures, including many pairs of socks, came pouring out. Devi, on the other hand, very neatly took one item at a time out of her stocking, savoring every last detail of the event. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Wearing new crowns from our friend Cat</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A weary eyed Papa and Gail arrived at 8am, bearing yet even more gifts and the champagne was corked for mimosas. The rest of the morning was spent opening a gift and then playing with it a bit before continuing on. All the adrenalin of that loaded tree skirt, had our stomachs growling in no time, so we paused the unwrapping frenzy to refuel with monkey bread, fruit and a scrambled egg, sausage and hash brown breakfast. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Treya in her new princess dress from </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The highlight of the morning for the girls was the nylon and PVC pipe Espresso stand/tent and set of sleeping bags from Pat and I. Once set up, the girls were off in their own world of imagination. As the hours passed, we could hear their storyline change from coffee shop, to school, to hospital, to camp out, to beauty salon as more and more props were brought into the tent. At one point, even Bengal, our dog was in there with them adding to their charade. <br /><br />Both girls fell back into bed with their Dream Lites in the early afternoon for naps, awakening to the sound of our extended family arriving for dinner. For the third year in a row, I attempted beef tenderloin for our table of 15 guests. Pat, our amateur inventor, constructed a vented plastic pipe extension that attached to our vacuum to control the smoke from the searing butter and beef at 500 degrees. The other skeptical men took bets on whether the piped contraption would work. It made for some good laughs and hearty slaps on the back congratulating Pat on his sweet success in stifling the smoke. No fanning with towels this year!</span></span><br />
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The inventor revealing his latest work</div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />Our white elephant gift exchange took a turn this year as well. I took playful, but deliberate attacks at stealing one’s gift out of the equation by implementing a poem that gave direction to each recipient as to whose gift they could snag. In the end, there is always one masculine person stuck with an array of scented soap, a female with a crowbar and rather deliberately, the person who left early got stuck with a holiday karaoke microphone. All in fun, we ended our evening with far too many desserts, bloated stomachs, and thanks to Aunt Joan, our girls are now the owners of two aquariums that each house two African dwarf frogs! Though their names change daily, today they are known as Clara and Clarise and Toot and Puddle.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Devi's concert</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Finished Product!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A well rounded holiday season, we are still hearing both girls singing “Maw maw, bake that Johnny Cake, Christmas comin” , a catchy West Indie tune that Dev sung in her kindergarten <i>Christmas Around The World</i> concert earlier in the month. </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Though <span style="font-size: small;">Oma traveled to <span style="font-size: small;">visit other family members this year, she did manage to squeez<span style="font-size: small;">e in a day of <span style="font-size: small;">cookie <span style="font-size: small;">baking with the girls<span style="font-size: small;">, whic<span style="font-size: small;">h is always one of the<span style="font-size: small;"> high<span style="font-size: small;">lights of the holiday season.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> We have just a few straggler partially dried out cookies left to devour, we weathered the cold and wet weather to experience Zoolights, and are still laughing every time we retell our “Looking at Christmas Lights” annual drive story. This time, Pat and I realized we were the only ones Ooo-ing and Aww-ing as both girls, snugly in new PJs, and with a cup of cocoa in their laps, promptly fell asleep in the car, a meer 15 minutes into the search for the perfect display!<br />
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Zoolights!</div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />Yes, as I consider the birth that gives us reason to celebrate, I am truly counting my blessings this year. </span></span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-32809598046148362032012-12-27T13:25:00.005-08:002012-12-27T13:25:37.393-08:00The Science of Santa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Good behavior has been a struggle for Devi lately as the count down to Christmas fast approaches. She managed to eek out a couple of good days back to back with no note from her teacher, which earned an opportunity to plead her case on Santa’s lap. The morning before, the girls spent our coffee time and story time outing thoughtfully preparing their Christmas lists. Devi was able to write her own this year and Treya, now on her second year home, was full of ideas having a much better idea about what she was doing and why. <br /><br />Measuring her behavior in her own mind, Devi was concerned that she not wish for too many or too few things. At number five she concluded that she was done, but then paused and asked if she could add one more thing. I assured her that one more thing would be okay. She told me that it was something that Santa couldn’t bring anyway, but it was something she has been wishing for for a long time. When pressed she confessed she was asking for a baby brudder. Be still my heart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />Now down to a science, I whisked the girls from school and headed toward the mall where Santa was waiting, sending daddy on ahead to mark our place in the typical extra long line of wiggling children. Meanwhile the girls and I parked and began their transformation from uniforms and muddy tights into their princess-like Christmas dresses in the back of our mini van. The anticipation of the moment mounted as they chattered about their lists and all the extra things they had to say, trying to remember to ask for a treat for Bengal, hoping that they would get a candy cane and wondering what he might ask them. A quick brush of their hair and we joined daddy second in line!<br /><br />Both girls’ eyes were enormous when they saw Mr. Kringle. Devi had been questioning the logistics of how Santa could be in so many places at once, scientifically considering that perhaps there were helpers that actually handled this part of the deal, but at this very moment any doubt vanished as both girls drew near. Standing before him, they politely said Merry Christmas and he began the task of reading each girl’s list. Leaning to one side for better light and adjusting the rim of his bifocal glasses he skimmed Devi’s items and paused at the final sentiment that she wrote at the bottom. “I am trying.” When asked, she said, “...in school. I am trying harder.” Naturally, he all ready knew this and encouraged her to keep up the good work. <br /><br />Next, he surveyed Treya’s list and wondered out loud if her second item “socks”, referred to a clothing item or a kitty with that name. We assured him that she could really use new socks as her feet have grown tremendously and that Treya is a practical girl and came up with this all on her own. Santa was impressed, adding that many children had asked for puppies and kitties this year and he and their parents hoped they would all visit the humane society instead. <br /><br />Giving both girls a nod, Santa carefully folded their lists and tucked them into his giant bag for safe keeping. Then, perched on his huge lap they each hugged him and said thank you. Treya squealed with delight when he handed her a peppermint sucker explaining that a sucker with a stick avoids the sticky fingers that come with a candy cane. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Another painless and successful year of meeting Santa under our belt, the girls seemed at ease knowing their lists had been safely delivered and were tucked carefully in Santa's gigantic bag. At dinner a very perplexed Treya said, “so....where is my present?” Instant laughter filled the air at poor Treya’s expense as we tried to explain that Santa does not make his rounds until Christmas eve. Our confused girl was expecting instant gratification right then and there, but now must wait another agonizing seven days. Let the count down begin! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Merry Christmas everyone!</span></span></span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-51835496477590999492012-12-21T22:47:00.000-08:002012-12-21T22:47:57.886-08:00The Annual Trip - Puerto Adventurous<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Our group </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Squinting from the brightness of the sun can be so rejuvenating to those of us who live in a constant state of gray in the winter months. A good a reason as any to dash off to the sunny beaches of Mexico for our annual Thanksgiving trip, this year staying one hour outside of Cancun in a small gated community called Puerto Adventurous. Arrangements were much more complicated this year with one child in school, but after the proper forms were filled out Devi was set with an excused absence and a promise that she would write a report about the trip and that mom and dad will plan better next year to have our trip land on “no school” days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />This being Treya’s second trip, she fell right in step honing in on her own need for a schedule and order. Bathing suit, sun screen, Fruit Loops for breakfast (since Mexico is the only place in the world they are served), followed by life jacket, goggles and the pool. Mom’s requirement of her was a nap in the afternoon, which she quickly decided was best taken pool side rather than in the room. Okay, I have to brag here a little...patting myself on the back. What good travelers we have, with both kids over the years willingly taking naps on a lounger while the rest of the resort children play around them. I am taking credit for this myself, when in truth, the girls play so hard that a nap is inevitable to keep from falling down with exhaustion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />Treya is still not thrilled with sand or the ocean, but could swim in the pool until long after dark. This trip her big discovery was learning a true feeling of floating and holding her breath. Beaming with excitement at her accomplishment she was a constant chatter “Watch this!” then would throw herself face first into the water in a spread eagle position holding her breath as long as she could over and over. A few rounds of this was followed by the need to quench her parched throat with a sip of Shirley Temple or Strawberry daiquiri. Such the life. Sugary drinks on vacation and all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />Devi found new depths of bravery this trip, trying new foods, and taking on bigger adventures. Called to the lagoon by daddy, I found her climbing into a plastic ball filled with air that was sealed with Velcro as she was then pushed out into the ocean to climb and roll around atop the water’s surface. Can you say claustrophobia? No thank you. The highlight for both of us; however, had to be swimming with the dolphins. I was so proud of her as she followed the instructors strict orders to swim out into the enclosure about 30 yards away from me and hold her arms in a position to grab hold of our dolphin, Sydney’s fins and ride on it’s belly into shore. Dev looked so far away and tiny bobbing in the water. The dolphin was so gentle and aware of Dev’s small 38 pound size and adjusted the speed of the ride accordingly. The thrill of the ride was evident in the huge white grin smile on Devi’s wave crested face as she swooshed towards us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />Devi and Treya had so much fun playing with their cousins Olivia and Jordan on this family reunion trip. Hours in the pool were spent on the slides, playing mermaids, seal and dolphin trainers, diving for objects and walking to the pool bar to order countless Shirley Temples with extra maraschino cherries or to scoop another bowl of ice cream! On a couple of evenings the girls, under Olivia’s watch, ordered room service and watched movies in their Pj's while the grown ups ate dinner out at one of the many restaurants on the resort.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />There is only so much guacamole and chips two small girls can consume in a week; however, and soon it was time to head home, leaving us with a long list of things to try the next time - hair braiding is on the top of their list. Beautiful carts of poinsettias were being placed about the day we left, a little reminder that once stateside, we would be hitting the ground running preparing for the Christmas holiday...with a relaxed smile and a tan. </span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-43125797164209059352012-11-21T11:41:00.002-08:002012-11-21T11:41:41.142-08:00Our Mermaid turns 6!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For months, both girls have been throwing out suggestions for their birthday parties. Devi’s birthday is in November, but Treya’s does not turn 4 until January. So as the days grew closer to Devi’s big day, naturally more and more of the details were decided and there was much party planning going on. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Though months away, Treya has been in constant chatter about her birthday as well, going over and over her guest list and telling me what I should get started <span style="font-size: small;">on</span>. She tends to be Devi’s little echo, copying everything she says and does, much to Dev’s dismay. We’ve tried to explain that there are many other holidays that need to come first, but none of this matters to Treya. She just knows that in the line up of birthdays in our family, after Devi’s comes hers and that is that.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Earlier in the week on Devi’s actual birthday,<span style="font-size: small;"> she brought healthy treats to her classmates,</span> we went to The Old Spaghetti Factory for dinner and she blew out a candle on her spumoni ice cream. Later she opened a few small gifts from daddy, Trey and I, and of course, added one new charm to her bracelet. No doubt, there was a lot of attention directed at Devi over the course of a few days as festivities seemed to <span style="font-size: small;">all land on th<span style="font-size: small;">e same d<span style="font-size: small;">ay including th<span style="font-size: small;">e <span style="font-size: small;">School <span style="font-size: small;">Science Fa<span style="font-size: small;">ir</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>. <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This and Treya’s premature excitement over her own birthday, I thought she would be a bit pouty the morning we awoke to find the house transformed to the bottom of the sea for Devi’s magical mermaid party, but in true Treya fashion, she took things in stride pointing and explaining what she wants just the same as Devi on her birthday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Both girls were giddy wandering through the house discovering the hanging paper plate jellyfish and twisted crepe paper seaweed. Hours before the guests were to arrive Dev was begging to put on her mermaid outfit and stand by the door to let them all in. When at last party time arrived, the house suddenly was overcome with the laughter and giggles of eleven little girls eager to become mermaids too. It just so happens, our first activity was creating magical seashell necklaces that would do just that. Each girl strung a seashell of her choice on a cord and decorated the rest with cut straw beads and flowers. When complete, Devi lead them swimming through the house to the music “Under the Sea”. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once seated at the lunch table, each girl chose a sand bucket filled with a napkin, silverware, goldfish crackers and a juice box and I served shells and cheese and octopus dogs, veggies and a fish bowl jell-o with gummy fish swimming inside. The maids ate heartily, though a little suspicious of the octopus dogs, wondering if it was really octopus or just a hot dog made to look like one. Obviously, disguising food must have been used on this set of kiddos somewhere along the way. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ready to play some games, it was noticed that mermaid Marena had a clue taped to the bottom of her plate that sent the girls to the dryer to retrieve a fish net bag full of puzzle pieces. Working as a team, they quickly solved the puzzle that instructed them to look in Pat’s pocket. There they found a treasure map and another clue. Bounding down the stairs to our “place where one swims, but ours holds no water” (the pool table) they found balloons to sit on and pop, which revealed yet another clue. Two floors up they went to Devi’s room where they found word jumbles "wher<span style="font-size: small;">e Devi slumbers"</span>. The girls were challenged to sound out their word and once completed, had to tell us what their word was. On the back of one of the cards was the clue that lead them to the fireplace where a playful dolphin waited. Each girl tossed rings onto his nose and when they had successfully landed 6 rings they received their next clue. Staged on the kitchen table was a huge Rubbermaid container filled with moon sand that I made. Each girl took a dig until the final clue was discovered wrapped in plastic at the bottom. It read “Ding Dong!”. The scream at hearing this clue was deafening, but the girls were so proud that they had figured it out.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>It was so fun to watch their excitement mount as they worked together to figure the puzzles out, following the map to the treasure. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the doorstep was a treasure chest that evidently had been lost at sea for quite some time as was evident by the shells and netting that had become <span style="font-size: small;">tangled <span style="font-size: small;">on it's edges</span></span>. The chest was filled to the brim with party favors for everyone. Stuffed turtles, rock “coral” candy, seashell necklaces, mermaid stickers, chocolate gold doubloons and Devi’s favorite - real starfish and sand dollars were all packed inside. Once the loot was divided evenly amongst the mermaids they gathered around the table for a round of the birthday song and clam cupcakes. Six candles is a lot to extinguish and it took a few tries to get them all, the last one brou<span style="font-size: small;">ght </span>cheers from her friends. Gifts containly lots of sparkly pink and purple things were opened and thank you hugs were distributed all around.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After everyone had gone and the excitement had died down, I put Treya down for a nap and Devi was taking some quite time. She climbed into my bed, stuck her thumb in her mouth, the ultimate “I’m exhausted” move and pulled my ear close to her lips. She whispered, “Mom, I forgot to thank you for the best party ever!” and she kissed my cheek and closed her eyes. It is hard to believe that she is six years old. Wow. The time has just flown. The girls change so quickly that it seems I can hardly keep up. Last night as we were getting ready for bed Dev said, “ Mom, for my 7 year old birthday, may I have a girl pirate party and another treasure chest?” I guess the first one was a hit! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Upon hearing Devi’s request, Treya, the echo, chimed in - “So...momma...here is who is coming to my party....no boys<span style="font-size: small;">...all girls...". <span style="font-size: small;">A<span style="font-size: small;">s I closed the door to their <span style="font-size: small;">room<span style="font-size: small;">, her authoritative voice giving inst<span style="font-size: small;">ructions continued to tr<span style="font-size: small;">ail off. </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-47557355726282439412012-11-20T01:00:00.001-08:002012-11-20T07:46:33.768-08:0040 and 46 in 60 seconds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HwhggA2JMRU/UKstbivWcyI/AAAAAAAADI8/VJIoTheXPZ8/s1600/halloween+poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HwhggA2JMRU/UKstbivWcyI/AAAAAAAADI8/VJIoTheXPZ8/s400/halloween+poster.jpg" width="400" /> </a> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Coming up for air, I'm taking a quick breath to catch the blog up with our busy lives. With the chill of fall has come another change of size. It was like I woke up one morning and both girls were wearing high waters, though I know the leggings were full length just yesterday. Needing proof, I backed first Treya and then Devi, up to the measuring wall and sure enough both girls have grown another inch and a half in height. Treya <span style="font-size: small;">is n<span style="font-size: small;">ow 4<span style="font-size: small;">0 inches and <span style="font-size: small;">Devi is 46.</span></span></span></span></span></span> So what was once in Devi's drawer, now resides in Treya's and I was sent out shopping to find longer pants with a smaller waist for Dev. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Treya has begun testing for speech therapy again but this time through our school district. If she qualifies it is a free service for children that are preparing to enter school. Treya came through all the assessment tests with flying colors, though they agree that speech and her gross motor skills could use some work, which for now, require more tests that will take place next month. Treya is excited at the prospect of going to Devi's school on Fridays for speech, making her a big girl who goes to real school too. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Halloween, in it's own sneaky way, snuck up on us. We managed to find two pumpkins in record time this year because when we arrived at our favorite pumpkin patch, the skies went gray, opened up and dumped buckets of rain. It was the first good heavy big drop rain storm we had had since last year. How quickly we forget the power of mother nature and how wet one can get <span style="font-size: small;">in just a few minut<span style="font-size: small;">es weathering the elements - especially daddy who was in sh<span style="font-size: small;">orts!</span></span></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy faces all around, we decided that <span style="font-size: small;">our pumpkins would be all jolly thi<span style="font-size: small;">s year. My pumpkin was happy because it grew in our own garden, and <span style="font-size: small;">all the others<span style="font-size: small;">, though hand picked at a patch, through <span style="font-size: small;">the<span style="font-size: small;">ir </span></span>si<span style="font-size: small;">ze and shape just <span style="font-size: small;">see<span style="font-size: small;">med happy as well. Treya actually put her hand<span style="font-size: small;"> in<span style="font-size: small;">side the pum<span style="font-size: small;">pkin th<span style="font-size: small;">is year, though she still does <span style="font-size: small;">not like to have dirty ha<span style="font-size: small;">nds AT ALL. This was a huge step for her <span style="font-size: small;">with this strange tradition. She still ha<span style="font-size: small;">d to stop and wipe her hands after each ind<span style="font-size: small;">ivi<span style="font-size: small;">dual seed she extra<span style="font-size: small;">cted<span style="font-size: small;"> and would<span style="font-size: small;"> rather <span style="font-size: small;">be wearing gloves or using a spoon.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The <span style="font-size: small;">friday before <span style="font-size: small;">Halloween, we all dressed in costume and attend<span style="font-size: small;">ed the Halloween Ball a<span style="font-size: small;">t Devi's school. It is hard to believe she is old enough to be attending school, let alone be ha<span style="font-size: small;">ving</span> dan<span style="font-size: small;">ces<span style="font-size: small;">. It took seconds for her to find a <span style="font-size: small;">group of her friends and head to the <span style="font-size: small;">dance floor<span style="font-size: small;"> to dance (ju<span style="font-size: small;">mp up and down) to the tunes being spun by the D<span style="font-size: small;">J. Dev won<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">a <span style="font-size: small;">ba<span style="font-size: small;">g of good<span style="font-size: small;">ies for best costume and Treya was in seventh heave<span style="font-size: small;">n over the cotton candy she <span style="font-size: small;">sweet talked daddy <span style="font-size: small;">int<span style="font-size: small;">o<span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Speaking of school, Dev <span style="font-size: small;">has finally settled into <span style="font-size: small;">kindergarten <span style="font-size: small;">life, with li<span style="font-size: small;">bra<span style="font-size: small;">ry day o<span style="font-size: small;">n Wedn<span style="font-size: small;">esday <span style="font-size: small;">bei<span style="font-size: small;">ng <span style="font-size: small;">her favorite day of the<span style="font-size: small;"> week. Checki<span style="font-size: small;">ng out books <span style="font-size: small;">takes careful consideration, accordin<span style="font-size: small;">g to her. She is done read<span style="font-size: small;">ing about princesses, <span style="font-size: small;">or Captain underpants<span style="font-size: small;"> stating<span style="font-size: small;">, "Mom, I want to read about something that is real<span style="font-size: small;">". <span style="font-size: small;">Our dinner t<span style="font-size: small;">able is now full of "Mr. S<span style="font-size: small;">tan<span style="font-size: small;">ley says</span>..." quotes like, "Mr. Stanley says there are chemica<span style="font-size: small;">ls in the nacho cheese they serve at school<span style="font-size: small;">." (Hmm...maybe that is why MOM won't let you buy lunch on na<span style="font-size: small;">chos day). </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span>Treya continues to blossom<span style="font-size: small;">, g<span style="font-size: small;">ettin<span style="font-size: small;">g more bold by the <span style="font-size: small;">moment<span style="font-size: small;">. It is as if she has unzipped and she<span style="font-size: small;">d her h<span style="font-size: small;">eavy coat of <span style="font-size: small;">shy<span style="font-size: small;">ne<span style="font-size: small;">ss</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> and this loud<span style="font-size: small;">, giggly non<span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">ensical girl emerged. She li<span style="font-size: small;">kes Wednesdays<span style="font-size: small;">, which is her dance day at school<span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">W<span style="font-size: small;">hen Halloween finally arrived, the girls had had several opportunities to wear their cost<span style="font-size: small;">umes this year. We were surrounded nearly all week b<span style="font-size: small;">y<span style="font-size: small;"> a</span></span> mermaid and a princess. Now, I realize it <span style="font-size: small;">ma<span style="font-size: small;">y appear as if Treya is<span style="font-size: small;"> Snow White<span style="font-size: small;">, but let me assure you, if you mentioned that Treya wou<span style="font-size: small;">ld go <span style="font-size: small;">into a tirad explaining very cl<span style="font-size: small;">ear<span style="font-size: small;">ly, " Momma, I no <span style="font-size: small;">Snow White. I a princess with yellow skir<span style="font-size: small;">t, <span style="font-size: small;">blue shirt and red<span style="font-size: small;"> sleeves<span style="font-size: small;">"<span style="font-size: small;">. Okay, I have to admit I got a chuckl<span style="font-size: small;">e out of teasing her by saying "You mean you are Snow White?" <span style="font-size: small;">"No momma<span style="font-size: small;">" and she would again<span style="font-size: small;"> go throug<span style="font-size: small;">h the <span style="font-size: small;">whole story<span style="font-size: small;"> as <span style="font-size: small;">many ti<span style="font-size: small;">mes as it took<span style="font-size: small;"> for things to be clear.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A traditionalist, <span style="font-size: small;">I just don't understand going to a mall<span style="font-size: small;"> for Trick or Treating. We go to our neighb<span style="font-size: small;">or's houses like I did as a girl, and by the third house down from ours this year I had to dou<span style="font-size: small;">ble back because</span> our arms were <span style="font-size: small;">completely full of bags <span style="font-size: small;">of toys that the ne<span style="font-size: small;">ighbors spoil our da<span style="font-size: small;">ughters with. <span style="font-size: small;">Dev<span style="font-size: small;"> a<span style="font-size: small;">nd Treya <span style="font-size: small;">have such a warped sen<span style="font-size: small;">se of what Hall<span style="font-size: small;">oween is all about. By the 10th house, Tre<span style="font-size: small;">ya's<span style="font-size: small;"> legs were done so we ended our evenin<span style="font-size: small;">g on the drivew<span style="font-size: small;">ay across the stree<span style="font-size: small;">t at<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Ms. Carol<span style="font-size: small;">'s<span style="font-size: small;">, to w<span style="font-size: small;">arm ou<span style="font-size: small;">r back<span style="font-size: small;">sides around her an<span style="font-size: small;">nual bon fire and sip s<span style="font-size: small;">ome mulled wine</span>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Now<span style="font-size: small;">, weeks later, the candy has bee<span style="font-size: small;">n counted, sorted, and grouped<span style="font-size: small;"> over and over and a few pieces have actually been eaten. Basically<span style="font-size: small;"> the wrappers have beco<span style="font-size: small;">me worn out by <span style="font-size: small;">all the<span style="font-size: small;"> handling. Just as soon as the Halloween decorations came down,<span style="font-size: small;"> up went the Diwali o<span style="font-size: small;">nes<span style="font-size: small;">. Our full sch<span style="font-size: small;">edule didn't allow for the big party we normal<span style="font-size: small;">ly th<span style="font-size: small;">row, b<span style="font-size: small;">ut I<span style="font-size: small;"> managed to cook a s<span style="font-size: small;">mall feast anyway. We had pic<span style="font-size: small;">kle<span style="font-size: small;">s, <span style="font-size: small;">samosas<span style="font-size: small;"> with chutney, aloo gobi, mut<span style="font-size: small;">t</span>ar paneer, tandori shrimp, naan<span style="font-size: small;">, rice and mango lassis for the girls. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>They had a parade in I<span style="font-size: small;">ndian outfits <span style="font-size: small;">and muscial instruments and</span></span> de<span style="font-size: small;">corated a <span style="font-size: small;">plate <span style="font-size: small;">of treats for Lakshmi. Over dinner we all talked about <span style="font-size: small;">those <span style="font-size: small;">who bring light to our lives<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;">Mr<span style="font-size: small;">. Stanley, Devi's teacher, was first on her list and Treya was glad for mom a<span style="font-size: small;">nd dad. Good girl<span style="font-size: small;">!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-83702054768691001152012-10-16T22:14:00.002-07:002012-10-16T22:14:44.098-07:00An Unexpected Visit From a Fairy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Just as I once wallowed in the aisles of the Baby’sRUs clearance section, choosing cute outfits for the girls in sizes proceeded by the word "months", now I find myself perusing other stores that carry sizes well beyond those that end in a "T". Holding them up to survey them for size, it does not seem possible that one of my children could be out of the infant area and into these ginormous clothes. As I reviewed the closet of winter items it is clear that not only are they growing, but maturing too. Somehow, the t-shirts with a cute quilted panting puppy seem far too immature for Devi. When did this happen? I have no idea. It seems we were just talking about how proud we were that she was dressing herself, or picking up her own toys, and now our time is spent discussing field trips, reading the stories she writes and cheer leading. <br /><br />With this phenomena, has come other milestones as well. Devi has been wanting a loose tooth for months, asking Pat and myself to test one or two from time to time, as she is sure they are wiggling. One of her good friends who is a year older has lost her two front teeth and Devi thinks this is just the coolest thing ever. Alas, her teeth have held firm, much to her disappointment. <br /><br />This all changed about two weeks ago. Expecting to break into my prepared lecture about how her teeth will get loose when they are good and ready, I found that one, a bottom tooth, had in fact, become loose. For days after, Devi excitedly wiggled and wiggled that tooth, often complaining that the area had grown sore, but she kept working at it with little reward. <br /><br />Pat and I had been planning to go out of town on a Sunday, leaving the two girls in the capable hands of Oma overnight for the first time. (Yahoo for mom and dad!) The day before our departure, I was prepping Dev about what to do in the event that her tooth should come out during the 24 hour period we would be away. I had an envelope all ready to keep the tooth safe so that she could slip it under her pillow with Oma. She responded rather unexpectedly at this idea in a tone with a bit of anxiety saying, “Do you think it will come out while you are away? Can you just pull it out?” I assured her that when it was good and ready, it would come out and I had no way of knowing if it would be on Sunday or not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Five minutes later, after settling the kids down in separate rooms for quite time that Saturday, Devi burst out of the bedroom screaming, “It came out! It came out!” Up the stairs I bolted and sure enough, there in the palm of her hand, laid a pearl of a tooth. Flashing me a bloody smile, Devi was so excited telling me that “...it just fell out!” Well, with a lot of help, but she managed to muster the courage to pop that little bit of a tooth out before we left town. I know it was probably not quite ready, as it still had one pretty long root that had not yet dissolved and her gum bled for a good long while, requiring pressure to help it to stop. She stood transfixed in front of the mirror, admiring the new hole in her smile for quite some time before I could pry her away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /><br />That night we carefully put the envelope under her pillow, hoping that the tooth fairy might come. Sure enough, sometime before 3:25 a.m., when Devi came running into our room, that busy fairy must have made a stop at our house. A silver glittery dollar bill was carefully placed in the envelope where the tooth once was. Amazing!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Devi's new smile!</span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-82716717717278552692012-09-19T23:55:00.003-07:002012-09-20T06:52:05.250-07:00Happy Fifth Forever Family Day!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #45818e;">Same clothes - same post</span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e;">Happy Forever Family Day 2012</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fulfilling a yearning that I held so deep, I picked her up out of her crib and our eyes met. Holding her seventeen pounds of baby roundness in my arms for the first time felt so foreign - a sensation that I always gracefully dodged when other mothers offered their new babies to me. I guess one could say I was saving myself for this moment - to hold and caress my own daughter. That was five years ago today.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the days following our first embrace, those clumsy feelings of caring for her were slowly replaced by the kind of confidence and responsibility that only a mother knows as I deciphered her likes and dislikes about everything from how to hold her, feed her and what sort of crazy antics would conger a smile. Mother. I had become one, and though it didn't come in the form of a degree from a chosen university, I was learning at an alarming rate through life experience as I was mesmerized and captivated by her every move. For months time stood still.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Over the course of five years, my parenting comfort level has grown as each new phase of development has eased into and out of our lives together - each one becoming a little easier to navigate. I would never suggest that I've taken motherhood or parenting for granted, but with her age has come a more mature and self sufficient girl who needs less from me everyday. Whistling, catching her first fish, riding a bicycle, making her bed, reading and writing were all achieved with little to no help from me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In fact, our days have become so busy, this Forever Family Day sneaked right up on me. My memories are still vivid and dear, but I dwell on them less often now. It is not because this day is not important or any less of a miracle to me, but though we built our family through adoption, the key is we are now a busy and thriving family and time no longer stands still.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2X1U6jMM0Z8/UFq6a7P9zBI/AAAAAAAADHg/0v_YGD7jLaQ/s1600/little+dancers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2X1U6jMM0Z8/UFq6a7P9zBI/AAAAAAAADHg/0v_YGD7jLaQ/s320/little+dancers.jpg" width="261" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just when I figured I had it all sort of figured out, history repeats itself. Dropping her off at Kindergarten this year brought with it a bit of that nostalgic feeling of uncertainty reminiscent of when we first met. No longer under my wing on a daily basis, that foreign feeling has come rushing back as I watch her face 5 year old struggles and I once again, have to learn yet another facet of motherhood - helping her navigate more independently , desperately wanting to make things come easily. Where once I searched for the answers to fulfilling her basic needs including how to diaper her, now I am faced with how to handle the cutting of one's own hair, making and trusting new friends, telling the truth and understanding the importance of listening to authority figures. Looking into her eyes with the first bottle I'd ever fed to a child, thoughts of these recent days were incomprehensible, but these uncharted waters have served as a wonderful reminder of how remarkable our journey together has been thus far, and how much I have yet to learn from someone so young and small. </span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fDaHoUZLqBM/UFq5JMJs79I/AAAAAAAADHQ/F9WBe1PA3pA/s1600/treya+art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fDaHoUZLqBM/UFq5JMJs79I/AAAAAAAADHQ/F9WBe1PA3pA/s320/treya+art.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As was suggested by a dear friend today, in the next five years she will be nearly 11, another five, and she will be driving and in another 5, she most likely will be calling ME to celebrate this anniversary, no longer living full time at home. So it seems these times of growth and discovery that began at our first meeting, will continue to resurface over and over again. It is this reality that makes my head dizzy. How can this be? I can still so clearly recall returning from ISRC in Calcutta, laying Devi on our bed in the hotel and staring at this beautiful child that had just entered my life and having Pat turn to me and say, "what do we do now?" </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I guess we continue to take things one day at a time and on this day we turned to tradition. After school the family went to Gateway to India for dinner to celebrate our forever family day AND the anniversary of Treya's adoption which was finalized on September 16th. She has legally been a Ross for a whole year. That too, sends my head spinning, unable to keep up sometimes with the passing of time. After dinner we told the story of how we first met Devi and how Treya sat at the pulpit with the judge, her arm still in a pink cast. A family photo and ice cream rounded out our evening. Pausing at lights out, I couldn't help but stare a little longer at these two sleepy-eyed precious souls. Though time has passed, it is pretty amazing how far we have come, from standing crib side holding our baby daughter for the first time to today, living this crazy, but very real life. Happy Forever Family Day!</span></span></div>
Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-42557084677895474882012-09-06T22:36:00.000-07:002012-09-06T22:36:05.219-07:00Flowers, Gleam and Glow. Let Your Power Shine! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"> First day of kindergarten</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;"> First day of preschool</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Stealing a lyric from the movie Tangled, typically flowers gleam and grow in spring, but the flowers in our house have emerged, letting their power shine in September! Devi, Treya and even Bengal the dog have made huge strides in development, are taking on new challenges and are sadly, growing up. (sniff sniff) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Delighted to be enrolled in Mr. Stanley’s class, Devi began Kindergarten yesterday. Since the schools open house last spring, all she has been talking about is Mr. Bones, the skeleton in Mr. Stanley’s class and his ginormous snail shells, certain that this classroom was the one for her. All summer long we’ve prepared for what kindergarten might be like, we stock piled her uniforms and I let her select her own lunch box. I was thrilled that she chose, without coaching I might add, an old school metal box with a unicorn and her name, rather then succumbing to another Disney product. Yay!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">As the day grew closer, we started to hear a lot more comments like, “Mom, I’m a little nervous!” or “What if I don’t know anyone?” but with reassuring comments, by the night before, Dev was giddy with excitement. Treya too, was filled with anticipation, as it would be her first day in Room 3, which marks the beginning of preschool for her. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Treya's first haircut since being home, preparing for preschool</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">For breakfast, I made the girls’ favorite, banana cashew pancakes with smiling faces to fill them up with energy and by the time we were all dressed, all I could see were calm, cool and confident girls with a slight case of excitement giggles. Naturally, we did the mini photo session on the front porch, which couldn’t be done fast enough for our eager ones. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> Treya's thank you card to her daycare teachers</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Because my work day typically begins before the girls are even awake, I rarely get to drop them off in the morning. Treya was thrilled that I was there. Taking me by the hand, she showed me her new cubby and art box. Next, she proceeded to show me how she washes her hands first and then chooses her first activity. There was no doubt in my mind, what she would choose. The girl loves to color. So with big squeezes and kisses, I wished her a good day as she settled in coloring the word September and I was off. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Trying to steal a peek at their classroom</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Next we drove to Devi’s school and joined the swarm of people who were arriving for drop offs in the Kindergarten area. You could just feel the excitement mounting as kids would call out other kids’ names as they were spotted approaching. Others were peeking into the windows at their classroom anxious with anticipation. While the boys all ready had uniform shirts half way untucked with beads of sweat forming on their faces from their rough play, the girls stayed tidy in their skirts and dresses, feeling fancy and dressed up. Finally the first bell rang and Mr. Stanley came out to greet us. The kids all lined up against the massive brick building looking so small and when instructed, marched into the room to find their cubby and tote bag and then find a seat. I was quick to catch Mr. Stanley’s wording “you can choose to sit anywhere TODAY”. I am certain in a few days, that will change :). I know that Devi knew about 6 or more kids from preschool, most of which are girls and sitting together is probably not a good thing. We watched as the classroom became organized, took a couple of photos, gave kisses and were off. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">As I headed for the car all smiles, I was suddenly overcome by emotions, having no idea where they came from. It’s not like I saw her evolving baby face flash before my eyes, or anything like that, but by the time I was in the car, I was bawling and I couldn’t make it stop. Recently, I have caught myself pausing every now and then, still so in awe that these children have willingly accepted me as their mother. It still can be so mind blowing to me at times, but this days out pouring of emotion is just not like me. I was a mess. Such a happy and exciting time brought tears? I was not expecting that at all. I have been so looking forward to Devi having a teacher to share her philosophical wonderings with. Just lately she asked me, “Mom, what color skin does God have? I put the question back on her and she responded, “He has brown skin like me”. So then I said, “Do you think God is a girl or boy?” She retorted, “That’s silly, mom. God is a boy. God is a boys name....Goddess is a girls name!” And, Trey...brimming with so much confidence. The kind of confidence that does not come from a parent, but comes from life experience - now so brave to wave and ask others’ their names every where we go. This is what we’ve been striving for and there I sat bawling about it. I quickly gained my composure on the way to work, but I can’t tell you how eager I was to pick those girls up at the end of the day. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Devi has only half days this first week and so she was picked up and taken to the daycare/preschool for the remainder of the afternoon.When I arrived, I saw my droopy flower, her eyes showing that her first ever napless school day was taking it’s toll. She was playing, but so very quite for her. I knelt beside her asking about her day. She reported that the two recesses were her favorite thing and that she really liked the surprises in her lunch box. I had also given her a homework assignment of my own. She was supposed to meet and become friends with one person that she didn’t know. “His name is Timone, mom” was the answer I got, which brought me the biggest smile as I imagine how and why she chose this particular boy. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Once home, Treya was non-stop chatter about the room, what they did, a certain boy's birthday coming up and how I needed to go the monster store to buy him a present because he likes monsters, and how then she would draw a picture to put in the card and I was supposed to wrap it. This went on for nearly an hour while I cooked dinner and each word was spoken in that matter of fact bossy tone she had become so accustomed to. Devi, on the other hand, went upstairs, changed into sweat pants and promptly fell asleep on the playroom floor. It was such a sound sleep, we had a hard time waking her for dinner. Poor baby. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Our proud poochie</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Give them a little sunshine and watch them grow is an understatement. When I arrived home after my workout that evening, I found that Devi had rallied and had learned to ride her bike without the training wheels (that she insisted we take off last week, as she was a big girl now). Bengal went on to graduate from his positive approach puppy school with flying colors and Treya had finally run out of things to say. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Day one of these new adventures proved to be a complete success, with our eyes set on the horizon, eager to see what tomorrow holds. For Dev, it is her first bus ride to school, Treya I’m certain will come home with a mouthful of interesting things to share and with luck Bengal will leave the plants in the yard alone and be a well-mannered boy. As for me, just pass the kleenex as I see the future full of firsts that just might bring me to tears...again!</span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30065587.post-56798912181142774182012-08-21T21:59:00.001-07:002012-08-21T21:59:07.344-07:00From one to the Next<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We couldn't make the Portland India festival this year,</div>
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so treated the girls to an evening out with Indian food, </div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">which requires wearing the proper attire!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just as the monsoon rain rejuvenates the people of India from the sweltering heat; so does our Pacific Northwest sunshine lift the spirit and morale of those living here, anticipating the coming of summer - not marked by a day on the calendar, but rather by the shedding of heavy sweatshirts and pants for shorts and sleeveless shirts. Once warm weather is here, the passing of days accelerates as we try to squeeze in every outdoor activity we have longed for during the overwhelmingly long, wet and gray months. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To keep us on track this year, the family made a to do list of our favorite things to accomplish during the summer, which has hung on our pantry door since mid-June. At first it seemed a bit skimpy, but as the last couple of summer weeks fast approaches, I fear we are going to end up leaving a couple of boxes unchecked! One item was crossed completely off, as we discovered the girls are horrible at nature walks, making the thoughts of tent camping with them less than a pleasant experience. Perhaps next year. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We did; however, manage to accomplish a lot and have happily marked off several activities. Visiting Farmers’ markets, riding a train, completing a random act of kindness, attending countless birthday parties, enrolling in the summer reading program and attending night time pajama story time at the library, riding a pony, eating a new flavor of ice cream, having a water balloon fight, visiting a water park, eating a picnic in a new park, paying it forward, growing a garden, going to a farm, and running through the sprinkler just to name a few events, has left things like going to the ocean, watching a movie outside and the much anticipated go blackberry picking, which undoubtedly will be our next activity. I’ve checked our secret spot and it looks a day or two from being perfect. In addition each family member lovingly shared a summer cold with the next, and Dev was down for the count with the stomach flu for several days.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I suppose that the best way to sum up our days that flow from one to the next is through photos, because it seems as quick as the shuttle closes, we are on to the next, in a line of many, family outings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Treya's first time bowling</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Treya's sings at the school picnic</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: small;">Devi graduates from preschool</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: small;">Face painting at a local festival with friends</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: small;">The "Not Its", the girls' favorite band, play a concert</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Treya makes us pancakes</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KBrQXK39LX8/UDRhgztbfAI/AAAAAAAADEw/I_aQ96r35Tc/s1600/steam+engine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KBrQXK39LX8/UDRhgztbfAI/AAAAAAAADEw/I_aQ96r35Tc/s320/steam+engine.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">We visit Remlinger farms...steam engines,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">canoes, and pony rides</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kEgMKWGY-BI/UDRhbm-ptRI/AAAAAAAADDo/JjMTHT9PZE0/s1600/canoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kEgMKWGY-BI/UDRhbm-ptRI/AAAAAAAADDo/JjMTHT9PZE0/s320/canoes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EvhA340gaRQ/UDRhd4k_PjI/AAAAAAAADEI/ca2BYr4wb9Q/s1600/dev+rides+pony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EvhA340gaRQ/UDRhd4k_PjI/AAAAAAAADEI/ca2BYr4wb9Q/s320/dev+rides+pony.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IG__GkqnOyw/UDRhfKB8TAI/AAAAAAAADEY/gnqH4V6hPi8/s1600/girls+and+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IG__GkqnOyw/UDRhfKB8TAI/AAAAAAAADEY/gnqH4V6hPi8/s320/girls+and+dog.jpg" width="177" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: small;">Bengal gets some loving</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Nf7iDb60oA/UDRhcKfBZNI/AAAAAAAADDw/YMMrVxtMzPc/s1600/cousins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Nf7iDb60oA/UDRhcKfBZNI/AAAAAAAADDw/YMMrVxtMzPc/s320/cousins.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: small;">Cousins Jordan and Olivia visit from California</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xQ-WdnrWRXg/UDRhjb89nOI/AAAAAAAADFQ/if5PDspque0/s1600/vegie+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xQ-WdnrWRXg/UDRhjb89nOI/AAAAAAAADFQ/if5PDspque0/s320/vegie+garden.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: small;">The garden starts to produce veggies</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DU9YtOHjeiw/UDRha0UmByI/AAAAAAAADDg/Aw_2pFNKFlc/s1600/blackberries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DU9YtOHjeiw/UDRha0UmByI/AAAAAAAADDg/Aw_2pFNKFlc/s320/blackberries.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6GrylVVWOsw/UDRhgWwrm2I/AAAAAAAADEo/ZwfD2Q8V3Sk/s1600/jam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6GrylVVWOsw/UDRhgWwrm2I/AAAAAAAADEo/ZwfD2Q8V3Sk/s320/jam.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: small;">We pick blackberries and make jam!</span></div>
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Julie & Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13779268719567575492noreply@blogger.com5