tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50489691739267222602024-03-13T00:33:30.250-07:00THE VIEW FROM MY PENCILfinding the balance between my professional and personal lovesJessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.comBlogger476125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-10263150217886218902015-05-17T17:36:00.001-07:002015-05-17T17:42:41.817-07:00This week's truthsJonathan left on Monday to a conference and although I was nervous, I had lots of votes of confidence from family and friends. I could most definitely handle work and caring for two kids. No sweat. Sometimes the kids are better behaved for one parent instead of two. It'll be chaos, but you'll survive. You got this. <div><br></div><div>Those were the words of wisdoms I received.</div><div><br></div><div>So I did what I always do: embraced the challenge. I saw it as a chance to flex my parenting muscles. I wanted to come out the other end of the week glowing with my strong, capable, and flexible skills I had developed. I couldn't wait to rub my husband's nose in it: look what I can do! Run victory laps at my success.</div><div><br></div><div>Let me tell you: I got a good case of shut down! Things got ugly and desperate. I never foresaw how Vincent would react to having Dad gone. How I would have to battle his 4 year old coping skills. There was yelling and tears from both of us. And then I had to deal with Isla, the baby who sleeps in spurts made worse by coughing spells. Vincent even woke up in the middle of the night two days in a row. It was a tantrum to get him back to bed as he ran around the pitch black house screaming and crying. </div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">There were many phone calls to Jonathan asking him to talk to my erratic child as I couldn't muster the patience to calm him down and all my threats landed on deaf ears. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Talk about a huge ego shutdown! By Friday I was singing just knowing that evening I wouldn't have to go it alone. That I wouldn't have to fail one more night. That maybe I'd actually get more than 4 hours of sleep. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I wish I could say that Jonathan's homecoming made everything better, that our weekend ended up being beautiful and put all the wrongs right again. Instead, I woke up Saturday with a fever, sore throat, bodyaches, upset stomach, and sneezing my head off. This was supposed to be my crowning moment where I reaped my reward for single parenting for the week (although horribly) by heading out for a little me time. I deserved that. I needed that! Instead I lounged around all day only nursing Isla. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I wish I could say that was the end of the story. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Saturday night as I go to put dishes into the drying rack I had washed, a big fat drop of water landed on my arm. I thought at first I had just gotten myself wet washing dishes. I wish. Instead, there was a steady drip of water coming from our ceiling! And as I looked down at the kitchen rug, I realized it was soaked. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">At 9 at night my husband climbed into our insulation filled attic to determine the source of the problem. Vincent was still awake. I was still awake. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We finally figured out an ventilation pipe was leaking. There are far too many boring details to that story to go into it, but...</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">This week was not easy. I didn't grow parenting wings. We survived. I realized how much I rely on my husband. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I realized that even when you think it's bad, you haven't had it rain on you in your kitchen. </font></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-85428342618024217942015-05-11T07:23:00.001-07:002015-05-11T07:23:48.592-07:00What a Monday?This morning, the day after that wonderful day called Mother's Day, Monday happened. It was a mother of all Mondays. So fitting. Like it was there to ground me and remind me of my real job. <div><br></div><div>Isla didn't sleep very well. She woke up every hour or so whether she was being snuggled or not and whether she had just eaten an hour ago or not. Maybe it's another glorious growth spurt. Who knows. But did it really have to happen the Monday after Mother's Day and the week Jonathan will be gone to a conference for the week? (I've never had to be a temporary single mom before. Should be interesting.)</div><div><br></div><div>So you think: I'll just make myself a spot of coffee and all will be right. Only I have a four year old barista in training who loves to help. This morning Vincent got distracted by a magnet as he was helping and while we were cleaning up (I run a cup of water through the Nepresso after making a cup), his elbow caught the steaming hot cup and knocked it right in his chair and splashed all over him. Vincent screamed and the mug shattered. </div><div><br></div><div>Boy did I feel guilty. As I rushed around stripping off his clothes and putting an ice pack where the water got him, he was upset he broke a mug and water got everywhere. Bless him! We managed to get all cleaned up and get out the door only 10 minutes late, my mommy guilt and Monday wrath following us out the door!</div><div><br></div><div>The drive to school gave me time to decompress and reflect. While I was complaining about my children, lack of sleep, and it being Monday, I was being taught something about grace. Apparently I could use a little bit more of it. Ironically, for the first tjme, my coffee did not taste good. </div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-50452093369119971332015-05-06T07:43:00.001-07:002015-05-19T19:34:38.049-07:00Nespress yoselfFor my Mother's Day gift, an early one, I got a Nespresso Citiz. I tried out my sister's while we were in Colorado for my nephew's first communion. We were there for three days and two nights. Three days and two nights. That's all it took to become seriously attached. I would wake up and ask when I was getting my perfect cup of coffee. I'm such a gracious guest. Ha. <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYioXUknppg5-0cnvkofV-2f-4SO13QXPpzrmsfa2pVBEXlgDBAvKt4cmLQRLU4vxcrLDRYledbIQfHxogHg3FAS8C-HXuBPP_nIgAsNriZoloIrNA5id5MCNaQnHb7G4aHcfpk4zz3E/s640/blogger-image-1959495483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYioXUknppg5-0cnvkofV-2f-4SO13QXPpzrmsfa2pVBEXlgDBAvKt4cmLQRLU4vxcrLDRYledbIQfHxogHg3FAS8C-HXuBPP_nIgAsNriZoloIrNA5id5MCNaQnHb7G4aHcfpk4zz3E/s640/blogger-image-1959495483.jpg"></a></div><br><div>When I saw that Williams Sonoma was having a sale and that Nespresso was doing $75 in club credit for pods, I knew it was a sign that I needed to make one of those lovely machines mine. The other sign: my Starbucks expenditures each month were getting higher and higher. With two kids in daycare, I knew I needed to get a better solution. Or a second job. </div><div>There are several models to choose from and it can be confusing to figure out what the difference is. The latest model is the VertoLine, which has custom pods for both espresso and coffee. It actually customizes each pod by reading a barcode on the pod to give it the right amount of water based on that barcode. But it's a new line and the jury is still out. I already have a perfectly fine coffee maker, so I stuck with the OriginalLine. I debated getting the Pixie because of it's Swiss-made all metal craftsmanship, but it holds the least amount of water (in hindsight, this isn't a problem; you want fresh water for your brew). The Insissia is more affordable but not as sleek and doesn't have the almost 5-star rating the Citiz has been given. The Citiz is a little more pricier ($299), but the reviews make me confident I'm buying a solid product that's not just some trend. </div><div>It came with a sample pack of pods to try and let me tell you, I'm having so much fun figuring out what intensities I like. Plus it's fun to mix it up. Some days are 12s and I need the flavor jolt; other days are 3s and mellow. I debating about buying an assortment pack with my credit just for fun. (Update: I bought the 200-pod welcome box. Loving it while I determine which pods I prefer.)</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEliaJ_kUSn-uDhlWB_hVjw6GSPDCS8kDatGbLNeTzLDDiB82yEKoFzOZmAUAP4OPkKKd4R99LrTtK9s7bGqGHC55pfOStpEhROF5jz8A6SO9ihF1MoxqGy2hmYpt25Ah85k_CjwzuOMU/s640/blogger-image--1129146944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEliaJ_kUSn-uDhlWB_hVjw6GSPDCS8kDatGbLNeTzLDDiB82yEKoFzOZmAUAP4OPkKKd4R99LrTtK9s7bGqGHC55pfOStpEhROF5jz8A6SO9ihF1MoxqGy2hmYpt25Ah85k_CjwzuOMU/s640/blogger-image--1129146944.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>The other thing that came in my bundle is a milk frother. If you're in the market for a frother, I highly recommend it. It's $100 on its own but it really adds to the coffee experience. Plus it makes your cup so pretty and inviting. </div><div>Vincent has really enjoyed helping me pick out a pod, load the machine, and push the button. So yeah, it's so easy a 4 year old can do it (with some assistance). </div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg039KcfeCQZwVI9i1FfThfPQG1at36RKNC5RHWlj3LBn8gHdpr0VFGnIFheIlMwUSm859aLydeMLZxEoOBcny8KrKL2mFbvgTMZs1q_x9EWRVYFbEpc40fknXTquHMSG6a_XVF92uu1D4/s640/blogger-image-521246449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg039KcfeCQZwVI9i1FfThfPQG1at36RKNC5RHWlj3LBn8gHdpr0VFGnIFheIlMwUSm859aLydeMLZxEoOBcny8KrKL2mFbvgTMZs1q_x9EWRVYFbEpc40fknXTquHMSG6a_XVF92uu1D4/s640/blogger-image-521246449.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-64679986472885499522015-05-03T19:45:00.001-07:002015-05-03T21:34:22.311-07:005.5 monthsYesterday I had a newborn and today I have a 5.5 month old girl with zesty personality! Let me tell you about this girl who we almost always call by her first and middle names, Isla Rai. So fitting for all that zest. She gets it from her namesake.<div><br></div><div>1. She'll grab anything she can get her hands on, hair (and facial hair), necklaces, toys, plates (loaded with food), food. You get the picture. Yesterday we had to untangle her from Vincent she had him by his hair so well. That'll teach him not to get in her face so often. </div><div><br></div><div>2. She's getting bad about being held. I used to pride myself on being able to put her down anywhere and she'd entertain herself. Now, notsomuch. This weekend I had her in the swing and she saw me walk by. Boy, did that piss her off to be ignored. And she only does this to me! I think she just sees me as a giant hamburger when I walk by. Nothing but food.</div><div><br></div><div>3. She likes to eat! We had a suspicion she'd be a mighty eater, and we were right! We started solids this weekend. There was no painful tongue reflex and gagging we experienced with Vincent and that gave me PTSD. Nope. This girl gobbled down whole containers of baby food. Everyone told me that most likely she'd only eat a couple tablespoons. Ha. But I love it! I dreaded the solids stage after Vincent required occupational therapy to get over his eating issues, and some textures still to this day trigger his gag reflex.</div><div><br></div><div>4. She's starting to roll to her belly to sleep. It makes me nervous, but if it gets her sleeping longer, I guess I should get on board. </div><div><br></div><div>5. She doesn't nap. She takes these tiny cat naps throughout the day. When she does sleep more than 20 minutes, we freak out and so does daycare. We rush to her side to check her breathing. </div><div><br></div><div>6. Her hair has turned a coppery auburn. </div><div><br></div><div>7. Her eyes are still blue.</div><div><br></div><div>8. She still hates getting dressed.</div><div><br></div><div>9. She still hates getting her hair washed. </div><div><br></div><div>10. We love her to pieces! Tonight our neighbor's little 1.5 year old wanted me to hold her while my neighbor held Isla. I said maybe we can trade. Vincent wasn't having any of that, despite how much he adores our neighbor's little girl. He said, "No, you can't do that. I really like her." I guess it's settled. Isla is here to stay. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-lFBqzeREUPXhxF3iGMfvagW9ENmn1C3X41npczkflVMf7IoLX3tJL8Kez9EoJ2LifuWrURwwgCgXD6EIY0tiNmYmRBhIJWePTe89_YMkCgoG55Homu-2-AXXODomWnzZ3R6JfXnvBmc/s640/blogger-image--458922039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-lFBqzeREUPXhxF3iGMfvagW9ENmn1C3X41npczkflVMf7IoLX3tJL8Kez9EoJ2LifuWrURwwgCgXD6EIY0tiNmYmRBhIJWePTe89_YMkCgoG55Homu-2-AXXODomWnzZ3R6JfXnvBmc/s640/blogger-image--458922039.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-5647988248519225602015-05-03T19:14:00.001-07:002015-05-03T19:24:39.236-07:00What we're eating this weekOK, so I thought I'd try out posts telling you what my menu is for the week ahead? Why? One: so I can look back at it myself for meal ideas I sometimes forget about, and two: give you ideas for your menu. I love knowing what other people eat. I'm so indecisive and sometimes recipes are no help in telling you how pallatable or easy to prepare it is. Here are two things you should know about what I cook: I go for uncomplicated recipes, and most meals have meat. <div><br></div><div>Sunday: <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Rotissorie chicken, mashed potatoes with brown gravy, and green beans</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Monday: Hamburgers, Tator tots, and baked beans</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Tuesday: Crock-pot beef and whole wheat egg noodles, steamed carrots</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Wednesday: Breaded chicken, spaghetti, and mixed veggies</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Thursday: Chicken stirfry and fried rice</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Friday: Hot dogs and corn</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Saturday: Flounder, brown rice, and asparagus </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Lunches this week: chicken salad on croissants, soups, and leftovers</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Happy eating! </span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-55470974297745766112015-03-03T10:59:00.000-08:002015-04-17T13:18:16.905-07:00let's recap the last couple monthsIt's been crazy! Isla went to daycare and proceeded to get sick and to get me sick and then to turn around and do it all over again a week later with a double ear infection. We were back to normal and then, BAM! she's getting another cold. On top of the nightly puke inducing hacking each night I think she's also teething. And in that time Vincent also had an ear infection so bad it burst his ear drum, and his ears had just been checked the week before because he was getting over an ear infection. Sleep isn't happening much. In fact the definition of that word is getting hazier each passing night.<div><br></div><div>So life has been about survival and keeping the kids on as much of a schedule as possible. So let's back up to Vincent's birthday at the end of February!<br><div><div><br></div><div>It was the birthday that seemed to go on for days because we first celebrated with family the weekend before, we celebrated with balloons the day of, his presents I ordered too late (oops!) arrived so we did those the day after, and finally he had a bowling party with friends and family the following weekend. I stressed out that I didn't have his presents the day of his birthday, but he could have cared less since I had personally blown up 30 balloons that I pelted him with when he got home that afternoon. We spent the rest of the evening playing with balloons. I guess that's the magic of a kid heart: they don't need presents and pomp and circumstance for their birthdays. It's the parents that do. Sad how we dwell on material items to fill our hearts and the hearts of our children when the best thing children can ask for is our undivided {device-free} attention.</div></div></div><div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sYi6kLmeivU/VTFqYE4aNFI/AAAAAAAACTI/pred_pA9R-A/I/photo_76431.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ahOkmaeahSM/VTFqYnqedzI/AAAAAAAACTM/n6LdMYmYWeE/I/photo_958773.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br><div style="text-align: left;">He had a blast at his bowling party! It almost didn't happen on account of the only snow storm we had this year, and a lot of family couldn't make it up. His aunt in Colorado managed to time her trip to meet Isla that weekend so she was there to take part in the festivities.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-imMfwc7w8k0/VTFqZo7iKzI/AAAAAAAACTU/2urQYfmNaUk/I/photo_601108.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"> I ordered Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cookies and a cake. Note to self: don't order both next year! Hardly any of the cake got eaten and I even had to finish off some cookies because Vincent didn't like them. And these cookies were amazing and beautiful! I splurged on them, but who can resist a cookie iced with such detail! He had so much fun bowling that I didn't get any pictures of him with the cake. Oops. Me and that camera need to become better friends during milestones.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div></div><div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-rDfxJwtH2hs/VTFqaKedF5I/AAAAAAAACTc/urq-M6-iBJk/I/photo_685156.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b11iYskGMZw/VTFqasal_hI/AAAAAAAACTk/Cvb_HBwd3fI/I/photo_941740.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>These two love each other so much already. Well, Isla sometimes gets annoyed Vincent gets in her face, but I can't blame him; she's a cutie! Doesn't it look like they're sharing secrets here?</div><div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kjLto3HeuW0/VTFqbPUjLMI/AAAAAAAACTs/cmFNNWWXuBo/I/photo_77726.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">Isla and I finally made it to my doula's new yoga studio. This woman is amazing and helped me bring my children into this world. She was born to help women bore their children!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JRWUtmmN-RQ/VTFqba3OOWI/AAAAAAAACT4/68lNJo4Libc/I/photo_215778.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">We went to an Easter egg hunt. Vincent's little basket was not big enough in the end. Isla didn't really have fun.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FlzP8vFELAA/VTFqb638OZI/AAAAAAAACT8/X3Kd933CUtA/I/photo_814155.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Vincent was excited that the Easter bunny left him stuff at our house and grandma and papas! We celebrated at their house amid packing boxes and no furniture. It's the last holiday there! It was sort of bittersweet even for me. I've been with Jonathan since 1999 and have even lived in that house off and on. </div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-x22GfBqBl9c/VTFqcRuxqAI/AAAAAAAACUE/8ynN9ciBi6g/I/photo_836728.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Pretty girl in her Easter dress!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IY7dB2SHqhU/VTFqcmorPDI/AAAAAAAACUM/D66sigOZhXE/I/photo_624355.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>On the Easter egg hunt!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QMEFqSROuAg/VTFqdNSpnCI/AAAAAAAACUU/BbcE9yErL4Y/I/photo_218935.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Vincent was so excited this year running all around. Oh to be a kid again and find treats in the yard!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WBo4EG0mvgQ/VTFqdoy1ybI/AAAAAAAACUc/EGvwNO4DpyY/I/photo_79219.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-CfVYXhv24-w/VTFqeKFv9nI/AAAAAAAACUk/DgMk7pOAdNs/I/photo_747738.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Family!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VE3wtRq3WPQ/VTFqeYMCZhI/AAAAAAAACUs/Nr1avG3xdt0/I/photo_878133.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Next year Vincent is going to a new preschool and we checked it out recently. He was pretty excited about all the games and toys he saw. It made me tear up!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-u2ow3oSueWo/VTFqe8Cgl_I/AAAAAAAACU4/EZNQne0Fnik/I/photo_608108.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>This girl is always smiling!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yn5wgnxPbYs/VTFqfZMipKI/AAAAAAAACU8/BX33LvVCQgw/I/photo_808860.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>We finally did something about that crazy hair! First hair cut!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BA5U3wN57KU/VTFqf7lxnmI/AAAAAAAACVE/uTic1OQTr1M/I/photo_580795.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Much better, right?!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--h1bBt9qx7w/VTFqgZQWpFI/AAAAAAAACVQ/TfwEX8yFp1o/I/photo_678790.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>She's a part-time thumb sucker. Kind of cute. Kind of not.</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-R80keLkcD5w/VTFqhAFFO4I/AAAAAAAACVU/XxIQDWoud5c/I/photo_343860.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Those big (still blue) eyes and that auburn hair...thanks to her grandma!</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JwOKx4eBv24/VTFqhoo7mqI/AAAAAAAACVc/31C-Ftusz7c/I/photo_50882.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Whew! </div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><div><br></div><div><div><br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-74888158100012800892015-02-08T11:41:00.000-08:002015-02-08T12:05:02.832-08:00First week backMy first week back at work wasn't horrible. There were only a few hiccups getting a defiant almost four year old out the door on time. I'm so thankful work from home. I don't have to rush or feel bad if I log on a few minutes late (or if I need extra time securing that victory Starbucks). Or dress up if I don't want to. And I can pump in the privacy and comfort of my own home. It also helped that Jonathan was home this week to bond with Isla before she sets off to daycare end of next week. <div><br></div><div>I was still stressed thinking about a major website relaunch happening this week that required way too many brain cells that somehow burned up while on maternity leave, but that even went better than I hoped.</div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zH8ov9ttwdo/VNfBY-cwP1I/AAAAAAAACLc/G7eG9BoNi7U/I/photo_997339.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Or maybe I'm just learning there is only so much work life interfere with your family time.</div><div><div><br></div><div>This happened this week: </div><div><div><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ci3GDts5pa4/VNfBZDkwJpI/AAAAAAAACLg/qaG_rK6Wing/I/photo_468771.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R5_7MGp1s5k/VNfBZgvf1YI/AAAAAAAACLs/T2vyp0t6jgQ/I/photo_55523.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br>Isla finally took a pacifier and a bottle (Born Free by the way). Daddy was super patient and after a couple tries learned that milk from a bottle is just as good! Girlfriend I think is going to end up having an appetite her brother never had. </div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-weSXAbtDBPw/VNfBZ70zbnI/AAAAAAAACLw/2QRudFeI_h0/I/photo_769489.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>Isla turned 10 weeks. Was she ever a newborn? I feel as if those sleepy cuddly days are hazy memories that are fading fast. We have an alert social baby who is killing it at tummy time. It helps that every time we put her on the floor Vincent is right there to entertain (and sometimes annoy) her. He's such an amazing big brother! </div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-doDtX-fHPUU/VNfBaR765aI/AAAAAAAACL4/nl6xVE5z_AU/I/photo_482488.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>We had one rough night. Up every hour. Sleep deprivation is cruel. I earned those black eye circles. I deserve a medal. All mama bears do. I also learned there is a new kind of tired when you have two and one kept you up all night. It was painful, but we lived. Coffee helped. A lot.</div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9DPAxnAhXCE/VNfBarnjK8I/AAAAAAAACMA/QpNHYtu8J0o/I/photo_207303.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>When you're a sleep-deprived mama, it's important to do little things to lift your spirit. Like wearing a sweet bracelet from your sister to remind you how blessed you are. Forever. </div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-k0mZnwZCgS8/VNfBa1BXx5I/AAAAAAAACMM/KDkxuYXlhhs/I/photo_973490.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div>It was a good week. I wouldn't trade it for the world.</div></div></div></div> <br></div><br><br> <br></div></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-46913217291399610792015-01-30T08:04:00.000-08:002015-01-30T08:08:57.617-08:00Chapter closing Today marks the last day of the very last maternity leave I'll take. Monday I'll return to work, and right now, we're planning to be done with a family four strong. The sides are even: two boys and two girls. Right now we think that's pretty perfect, my body is tired, our mentality is tired from dealing with a baby and a preschooler, and we're ready to focus our energies to continue to raise these two halfings up proud. And maybe take some epic vacation in the coming years.<div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-tNWxBvEkHWw/VMuskV_dSeI/AAAAAAAACKU/tH9ElAdu3c4/I/photo_423969.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br><br><div>I've loved my 10 weeks off with my sweet Isla. She's such a good baby. Where Vincent was only happy being held and rarely smiled, Isla thinks being held means you're trying to put her to sleep (she's right sometimes), so you have to hold her a certain way or put her down and she's full of smiles, coos, and talks. The other day I'm pretty sure she tried to say "I love you." I think she's going to be my zesty energetic one, while Vincent is my deep sensitive one. I'm good with that. I love them both fiercely. I'm their mama bear. And I'm so excited to watch them grow up together. I can't even really remember what it was like before Isla, almost as if she's always been here.</div><div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-L-CmLQkrIFo/VMuskgYADuI/AAAAAAAACKY/OrHHTTbT7hs/I/photo_437916.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br></div><div>Yesterday was chickabee's 2-month appointment. I've been fretting about her weight since Vincent struggled in that department. I can't help but compare and anticipate the worst because of him, but Isla is 2 ounces shy of 11 pounds! She's also in the 76 percentile for height. I'll have to dig out Vincent's stats to compare, I'm pretty sure she's beating him!</div><div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-an2bkdnR7b8/VMuslFl9T4I/AAAAAAAACKg/UT-84XzOxaM/I/photo_147186.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br><br> I didn't get nearly all the things I wanted to get done on my maternity leave that I had planned, but I'm good with that. A new era is dawning in this household, so I've plenty of time to clean out the basement later. For now I'll just enjoy these sweet gummy smiles and almost four year old excitement over playing Go Fish with his mama. Plus, I found a new show, Castle, during my leave. I think that's a successful leave!</div></div><div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5M3iBIvNTuw/VMuslX0u-8I/AAAAAAAACKo/bQ-c1rXGnAg/I/photo_132173.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FC8n1Jn1yi8/VMusl8BsurI/AAAAAAAACKw/2j990jn5IH4/I/photo_342835.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xEhQafzB1Dg/VMusmKnrNiI/AAAAAAAACK4/ZaZSsxAVa40/I/photo_246434.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> <br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-28200175511545333452015-01-11T13:41:00.001-08:002015-01-14T09:51:28.529-08:00All true1. I think babies are cute. From a distance. Although Isla is my last baby and I know I should be savoring her babyness, I can't wait until she's Vincent's age. I do love it when she looks at me and smiles though. That's pretty fantastic.<div>2. Breastfeeding isn't my favorite this time. With Vincent I loved nursing and was sad when my baby was no longer thriving. Vincent and I made it 9 months. Now I contemplate switching to formula everyday, but then I remember I'm saving money and I'll be paying for another kid in daycare soon. We'll see how long I last. </div><div>3. Sometimes I don't change Isla's clothes for a couple days. </div><div>4. I'm praying for my coffee maker to die (it's 8 years old), so I can buy a Nespresso machine.</div><div>5. I'm already thinking about what I want for my birthday. In March. I'll be 33. Wow. I don't feel 33. These days I probably look it. Hello under eye circles. </div><div>6. I think about a beach vacation everyday. And sometimes at night when a certain someone wakes me or another one starts snoring loudly. </div><div>7. My attention span is really short these days and I get bored quickly with whatever I'm doing. I need to figure out how to focus. I'm also incredibly impatient. </div><div>8. My car is 10 years old this year. It needs to hold out for another year. I think I'm going to hop on the SUV bandwagon again. I'll be sad to see my Scion xA go. I have a thing for tiny cars. I've never met a parking spot I couldn't fit.</div><div>9. I received my quarterly IRA statement this week. I'm fascinated with it looking at it. I don't get numbers and economics, but I'm always calculating how much more my account will grow. It makes me a little obsessive about retirement.</div><div>10. Speaking of retirement, I think I want to buy a tiny home and plop it on a sliver of land close to the beach. Are there tiny home retirement beach communities? If not, I'm starting one! </div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-15394580931262129302015-01-09T15:23:00.001-08:002015-01-09T15:23:32.540-08:00Isla takes over InstagramIf you follow me on Instagram, you know my daughter has taken over. People might think I only have one child or that Isla is my favorite kid while my son takes runner up. But really, I'm just seeing more of her while on maternity leave while he's at daycare, I'm holding her a lot (I try to get Vincent to snuggle more but he's more interested in his Star Wars figures he got for Christmas), plus she's so dang cute and learning cuter things everyday. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmTGhdyILvcfbfWEeOaLw6n5cY9JYWReHaUSwQLDvZZRuQNgKlKLKVv8wNokWMsZ5u8Js5yy1Ql1hV_rFfZoDchAt32tcMMGq3twvpcPcVy9TNUkmj_W9IaEapU4Ew1jirRrfPhUM63KI/s640/blogger-image-2090958837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmTGhdyILvcfbfWEeOaLw6n5cY9JYWReHaUSwQLDvZZRuQNgKlKLKVv8wNokWMsZ5u8Js5yy1Ql1hV_rFfZoDchAt32tcMMGq3twvpcPcVy9TNUkmj_W9IaEapU4Ew1jirRrfPhUM63KI/s640/blogger-image-2090958837.jpg"></a></div><br><div><br></div><div>This week alone she's discovered mom is up there while she nurses. She's starting to vocalize more than screams and crying. She loves when I make the sound agoo to her. And her smiles are social though still fleeting. </div></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVGQXretRJAeeGG0dLvSFcMua2x83wFo3IjDZDuH4qcOXVp2JhWhNP8h3oP9h544GbNFiK3kIwwu-ZP7zxO2HoR5HNzVUOQUmuA-hliPy1LPsF_gN2JHF7DcpJq-HscmLqng5SuW34K0/s640/blogger-image-321649751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVGQXretRJAeeGG0dLvSFcMua2x83wFo3IjDZDuH4qcOXVp2JhWhNP8h3oP9h544GbNFiK3kIwwu-ZP7zxO2HoR5HNzVUOQUmuA-hliPy1LPsF_gN2JHF7DcpJq-HscmLqng5SuW34K0/s640/blogger-image-321649751.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>So until I can top this, my insta feed will be overrun with this sweetie.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguM8Ge5wEzLtbHUqThyphenhyphenGKQWbBrOvqaBTFxeRe3htA3ulMg_OzPY1KnHwAMFqCiIPEwL5aqFy9xX91BJ2924LC30O8nhbJlPL4XKE9Au574AUGEcl2Tt9Kez9_fnyBDD8DsMIWyQJpLXXQ/s640/blogger-image--336595797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguM8Ge5wEzLtbHUqThyphenhyphenGKQWbBrOvqaBTFxeRe3htA3ulMg_OzPY1KnHwAMFqCiIPEwL5aqFy9xX91BJ2924LC30O8nhbJlPL4XKE9Au574AUGEcl2Tt9Kez9_fnyBDD8DsMIWyQJpLXXQ/s640/blogger-image--336595797.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-83109648189775861972015-01-08T07:20:00.001-08:002015-01-08T07:20:58.282-08:00My wordIt's been a tradition the last couple of years to pick a word I want to shape my year by. It was harder to choose this year because I'm sleep deprived and taking care of a new baby. I always say babies are in and out of phases, so when you have a span of good days, you have to know they're gonna throw you a curve ball by not sleeping, screaming with no solace, and decide not to nurse. Babies. A lot of work. And no consistency to allow you to really be in the moment and work on yourself and goals. I'm sure I'll be sporting my flabby abs for another year.<div><br></div><div>But back to my word. I thought sleep or be could work because I could achieve those fairly easily. Well, maybe not sleep. </div><div><br></div><div>For the past two years I've been driven by the need and want to be more creative. Frustratingly so. And many of my goals are creative driven this year too.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> Create. That's my drive this year. So while I'm probably a little too ambitious with my word this year, I think it's a good reflection of the direction I want to go. I just hope that baby of mine agrees.</span></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-15439030995876725972015-01-05T07:49:00.001-08:002015-01-05T07:49:30.319-08:002015 RebootIt's a new year! My favorite kind of fresh start! Last year was insane. I grew and birthed baby number two and my son will soon be 4. Creatively, last year was a struggle, but I guess if you think about it, a baby is a creative project. {wink} This year I'm dusting this space off. Perfection kept me from keeping it up last year. That and having a baby. Did I mention that?<br />
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This year my goals, as much as my kids don't keep me from them, are:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Revamp this space so it's inspiring for me to come write in. I'm thinking of buying an Etsy template for it. </li>
<li>Take a Skillshare class on lettering and calligraphy</li>
<li>Break out the knitting needles more</li>
<li>Buy yarn that makes me want to knit more</li>
<li>Sew. Projects include my daughter'so stocking (I've sewed all of us monogrammed stockings) and a quilt using my favorite pattern designer, Bonnie Christine of Going Home to Roost, fabric</li>
<li>Fall more in love with my house by purging what I don't use, wear, or love. I also want to try moving things around. I read that you can fall more in love with what you own just by trying it someplace else. So simple yet so genius. I have lots of pictures and prints to hang up as well.</li>
<li>Speaking of pictures: to take more with me and my husband in them. I've always felt self conscious both behind and in front of the camera. I think because it's not a natural skill for me and because I'm a perfectionist all I see is imperfection. I have to remind myself practice is the way to perfection. </li>
<li>Read more. I own both a nook and an iPad. I try to take my kids to the library. I have no excuse, besides time and sleep deprivation, for not reading more. Book suggestions?</li>
<li>Write more. Both here, journaling, and professionally. I'm getting rusty and words are starting to escape me. Yikes. </li>
<li>Date my husband. Having a new baby is really hard on marriage because you're sleep deprived and at the mercy of the newest little and caring and entertaining the other. It's easy to let your life partner go to the wayside. My plans include playing scrabble and having him reteach me how to play chess since it's been years! And drinking wine. Oh how I've missed my wine.</li>
<li>Save money. 2016 is the year we pay off a car loan and all my student loans, so I want to focus on not spending, so our next year goes smoothly money wise. </li>
</ul>
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I bought a Day Designer to stay organized and inspired this year. Does anyone else love planners as much as I do?! I'll share my review of it since it's a pricey system.</div>
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<br />Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-50384046140360991342014-01-20T17:27:00.002-08:002014-01-20T20:15:15.800-08:00Why do you write?I'm almost done writing six stories in less than two weeks. Five of them weren't particularly difficult of articles, but that last one really called upon my entire being and all my brain cells. That's on top of a full-time job as a magazine editor. I know what you're thinking: Oh, the glamour. Oh, the excitement.<br>
You're half right. I'm naturally curious, so any chance to take on an assignment I'm unfamiliar with, I can't but help but get a shiver of excitement. I was the kid who tried things just for the mere reason to know how they work and consider that itch scratched. I remember one dreadful experiment I conducted without much forethought: What do party streamers do when wet? Do they stay crinkled? How do they come in such brilliant colors? My vessel was a brand-new jewelry box. A gift, I'm sure, from said party. I can't remember exactly my mom's reaction, but the results: wet streamers are bleed their colors since they're dyed, creating a gross, fragile mess and ruining the interior of the jewelry box. Curiosity fulfilled. Hopefully the punishment was to. Also: I was five.<br>
When I wrap up my writing assignments I take time to reflect. It's a really critical process that's best done with a glass of wine, or two. Writing is not for the sensitive of heart. Writing is not for the disorganized. Writing is not for the uninterested. Curiosity has to burn in your soul.<br>
Why do I write? My answer has changed over the phases of my life. I discovered I loved writing my junior year of high school. My prose back then was primarily brilliant moody poetry full of teenage angst. Too bad the literary mags didn't think so. My junior year I received around 15 rejection letters, but I persevered.<br>
In college, I toyed with continuing my literary love and becoming an english major. This was after I royally failed my first class toward becoming a speech pathologist, a career I picked out of the list of majors offered at my school. {I told you, I'm very curious. And by royally failed, I got a C. Ouch.} I hadn't heard of anyone making money with an English degree, so naturally I opted to become a journalist.<br>
Now I write to see what I can do. I write to explore the world around me. Every phone interview is like getting on a plane all by yourself to destination unknown and trying to learn the language from the locals. This year I'm 10 years almost fluent, and sometimes I wonder that I wouldn't make a better scientist. I'd probably burn the lab down. Time for glass number two of vino.Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-90151310374511990962014-01-17T08:52:00.000-08:002014-01-17T12:26:29.806-08:00My freelance black hole has Starbucks and a new scarf<div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've been sucked down the freelance writing vortex again. The black hole of my social and blogging life. But the black hole does have a Starbucks, which I've been living off of. Have you tried the new caramel flan latte. Sounds gross, but it's pretty good. It's no caramel </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">brûlée</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> latte, which I really enjoyed over the holidays {in the little red cups}. Go give it a try if you want something different. I also decided to accept the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://lp.starbucks.com/vialatte" target="_blank">Starbucks Via challenge</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. I bought the vanilla latte flavor. I hated it. Couldn't even stand to take more than three little sips. Jonathan, on the other hand, said he liked it, which was surprising. So I guess he'll be enjoying the three packets I still have left. I'm not sure I'll try the Caffe Mocha flavor, especially when my new make-at-home coffee routine is to use up some hot chocolate packets we received as a Christmas gift. I dump in a packet, add strong coffee, and a touch of milk for my own cafe mocha creation on the cheap.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And because I'm saving so much money making my cafe mochas, I hired a barista for days I can't make it to Starbucks. He has a steep learning curve ahead of him.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To perk myself up I splurged and bought a navy scarf at Target. I love navy. What I like about this scarf is that it has some geometric texture and little navy metallic threads running through it that make it a little bit more surprising than just a plain scarf. I've worn it almost everyday, probably breaking a million fashion rules in the meantime just because it makes me so happy—and motivated. I need motivation like I need coffee right now—all the time. I don't see the scarf on Target's website and I'm not even sure of the brand. </span></div>
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When I wasn't writing this week, I was constructing snowmen for Vincent. He's obsessed with the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Snowmen-at-Night-Caralyn-Buehner/dp/0803725507/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1389976242&sr=1-1&keywords=snowmen+at+night" target="_blank">snowman series by Caralyn Buehner</a>. I tell people I read them for the art.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This has been my week. Three screens all doing different things as I climb my way out of the writing vortex. On the plus side, I'm now schooled on reshoring, which is one of the most likely economic trends in 2014 to grow. Buy American!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was a week for selfies. Really I take these pictures for my sisters who I text all day every day. This was my grandmother's shirt. It's vintage Bill Blass. I don't have a hang of how to wear it yet since the cut isn't anything like the modern cut and fit of today's button-up shirts. I love the sweet delicate floral pattern. It looks so good with my riding boots—almost like I might go riding!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Vincent in his Monster Jammies. Today was jammie day at school and who else but Mike Wazowski would do? Actually Vincent seemed a little disturbed to be taking off one pair of jammies to put on another. I thought I might not be able to convince him to wear them and was even pulling out an outfit when he changed his mind. Oh, to be a toddler. So stressful. I'm glad he decided to wear them since everyone in his class was in jammies, including his teachers. I should have worn jammies.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I finally got around to getting a haircut. OK, it was more like a trim, but the new haircut has bangs. I'm trying to play it cool and let them hang in my face like I just don't care. No, actually, I tucked them behind my ear .02 seconds after this picture. Why was I thinking I could handle bangs in my eyes? On the plus side, Jonathan thinks they look good, so there's that.</span></div>
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Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-51725961869756433742014-01-08T07:00:00.000-08:002014-01-08T07:00:00.311-08:00Coveting and clearingThe day after Christmas I seriously wanted all the Christmas decor out, out, out. And with much hope and ambition, I did start taking it down right away, but sadly, because I wanted to reorgnize the way I put away the ornaments (I'm getting rid of all those little ornament boxes), it took longer than expected. Tonight we finished pulling down the ornaments we hung from the foyer ceiling and took down all three of the little trees. It feels good to open the house back up. If only it were spring, but alas it's supposed to be 1 degree here. Yuck! With everything taken down it's made me realize how much my walls need art and furniture, and ceilings need new light fixture. One day I'll be brave and just tackle it! But here's the quick list of things I'm hoping to get done this year:<br />
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• paint the office</div>
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• replace the kitchen light fixtures</div>
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• buy a buffet</div>
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• buy art/get professional photography done and hang up in dining room and living room</div>
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• replace bathroom sink faucets</div>
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• paint bathrooms</div>
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• possibly tile bathrooms (the lino is holding up well for the most part but one part is starting to peel in one of the bathrooms so we might wait until we see noticeable cracks like we've witnessed in the same lino in our neighbor's house</div>
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• clear out the basement and give away tons of crap living down there</div>
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• buy outdoor dining set</div>
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• buy a rocking recliner for bedroom.</div>
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The rocking recliner might be something we tackle soon. We looked this weekend and found something we both like, and after Jonathan scraped his wrist moving our very ancient ottoman in our bedroom, I'm thinking he's more likely to make that happen sooner rather than later.</div>
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If we had tons of money I'd love to finish the basement (adding a family room/craft/office area, bedroom, and a bathroom down there), fence the backyard, and put in French doors off our dining area to a little deck with lots of potted plants. A girl can dream!</div>
Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-49581222180594345782014-01-07T19:23:00.003-08:002014-01-07T19:23:34.817-08:00My word 2014Do you have a word to build your year around? <a href="http://frommypencil.blogspot.com/2013/01/new-word-new-year.html">Last year was the first year I chose a word.</a> Honestly, I think I forgot about it as January made its exit. I'm determined this year to really reflect on my word, live my word, and give my word new meaning in my life. <div>
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I decided this year my word is: </div>
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My inspiration has been motherhood, mainly witnessing other parents' journeys as their children face life-threatening illnesses. One of the stories I started following this year was <a href="http://www.gavinowens.com/">Gavin Owens</a>. His life story is a beautiful one, just like the family who loved him during his short life and who aren't letting his death be in vain as they grow their family by adoption. I'm also witnessing an old high school friend's son go through the reality of cancer. It's harsh, ugly, and unforgiving to see this beautiful kid, who someday wants to be a firefighter, go through something so awful. {His prognosis is good, I'm happy to report. I hope I get to witness him do amazing things with his life having to confront his own mortality in preschool.} Every day that I get to hug Vincent and know that he's healthy and happy, I know I'm truly blessed. I'm blessed with a beautiful house that I've recently decided is a cottage after all {I'm a cottage girl at heart}. I have a wonderful loving husband who works hard at what he does and stays committed to his family. I have a disease that has amazingly stayed in remission for several years after a hard and fast onslaught that left no damage. And finally, I have a job that gives me flexibility to not have to choose between work and family. I think we get so caught up with bigger, better, greener on the other side, give me my cake and I want a slice too that we take for granted just the daily miracles happening everyday. These are big things. These are big deals. And I only hope that I can teach Vincent what a big deal he is in my life, and that it doesn't take material things to make you happy. When a shooter walked into the school in Colorado this winter, kids called their parents and thanked them for all their love. And I'm sure when they walked out safe and sound {minus one heroic girl and one troubled boy}, they counted their blessings and they were never more grateful to go home to loved ones and hug them. I don't want to get so lost in achievement that I forget what's truly important and to be thankful for all that life as offered me.</div>
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I hope I can keep this thanksgiving alive all year long!</div>
Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-23654022941594417902014-01-07T13:31:00.000-08:002014-01-07T18:17:44.523-08:00A little more me this year<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ommm. I guess if I ever get hungry, there's a whole kitchen full of plastic goodness behind me. </td></tr>
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Ah, don't you love January? A new year to don whatever habit(s) you feel like trying in effort to revolutionize yourself. For me, it means I make these super lists of resolutions—one for work, one for parenting, one for the home, and one for me. The resolutions that trip me up the most have to be ones focused on me. My other lists are task oriented: make the bed everyday, teach Vincent his letters, hang curtains, start a garden. I'm really bad about focusing on me, taking time out for myself. This year I want to get back into yoga and spend a little more time reconstructing myself now that I've been on this path of motherhood for close to 3 years (!!!).</div>
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Before, I never understood those mothers who let themselves go and stopped doing those things they love. Now I completely understand wearing the crumpled yoga pants and ratty shirts that are more comfortable for your forever (and blessedly) changed body. That first year I was exhausted living on 4-6 hours of sleep a night. There was no way I was getting up earlier than necessary for those few minutes it took to throw on some clothes to rush out the door to drop Vincent off at daycare. Makeup was something that lived under my sink on the off chance I actually got out of the house for functions that didn't require a diaper bag <i>and</i> if I cared enough to put it on.<br />
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Yesterday I was perusing one of my favorite goods store, Terrain, and saw <a href="http://www.shopterrain.com/winter%2Drefresh/living%2Din%2Dthe%2Dmoment/productOptionIDs/bd0459cc-8958-45c4-b120-330bd8a8856a" target="_blank">this book</a>. If you click on the pictures, you can get an idea of the content, which is simplistic but also very fascinating. That we can change the moments in our lives merely by paying closer attention to them and yourself within that moment. That in washing the dishes and sorting clothes we might actually find we can enjoy it more if only we stay in the moment instead of stressing about the next thing on our to-do list. Working from home I'm constantly bombarded with professional and personal. I can't remember the last time I focused on one thing, giving it my everything, enjoying it, and checking in with myself in that moment instead of being sucked out by constant distractions, be it email, twitter, blog land, Pinterest, Facebook, and texting.<br />
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I've already started a little of my resolution revolution for myself by doing mini workouts in the evening with Jonathan. It was <a href="http://nelliemag.com/exercising-with-a-significant-other/" target="_blank">an idea I found reading Nellie magazine</a>. Although I plan to revolutionize myself and my mentality this year and let more joy into myself, I plan to incorporate my family in the process where I can! I've never worked out with anyone before, so it'll be interesting the impact that it'll have on me and my marriage. I tend to push myself far and fast. Jonathan tends to back off when it gets uncomfortable. We're each other's yin and yang. We put away the phone, we talk about how we're physically feeling, and if we can go further than the night before. Right now we're only taking 10 or 15 minutes until we build up our stamina, but I can already see if difference in myself, in my marriage, and hopefully in the next month, my body.<br />
<br />Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-16898442071231662972013-12-31T07:19:00.001-08:002014-01-03T15:41:48.285-08:00A new yearI'm so excited for this year. Jonathan's new job is already giving us more time as a family and giving me time to put more homemade meals on the table! This week we've already had creamy tomato fettuccine, steak Marsala with risotto and roasted parmasean asparagus, and slow cooker chicken tikka masala. I'm hoping that getting more time together will mean more things getting accomplished, like working out, knitting, going through all the stuff in our basement and getting rid of it, and even growing a small veggie garden when spring arrives. Love how the new year holds such promise!<div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-15727458365538995242013-12-30T05:14:00.001-08:002013-12-30T05:14:44.596-08:00New new newJonathan started his job, and the best thing: how much more time (and help) we have together as a family. Vincent now gets to sleep until 7 versus 5:15, I take him to school and log in for work at my usual time of 8:45, he gets picked up at 4 (which might get later should Jonathan decide to start working out after work), and dinner is on the table by 5:30 or 6 (Jonathan wasn't even getting home until 6:30 or later with his old job). The byproduct of all this: I can cook dinners while he plays with Vincent, Vincent is happier with more sleep, and more stuff can get done around the house in the evening. It's a win-win-win. We're still working on getting the routine down since the holdiays throw everything off. But I'll take these couple weeks of chaos for a all around happier family!<div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-26287388312143066452013-12-15T14:14:00.001-08:002013-12-15T14:16:13.160-08:00Just beLately I've been more content to the fact I don't have the perfect career culled out just for me. I have a job I know how to do OK. It pays bills, it let's me work from home, and it affords me a life that isn't so insane I don't get to savor the life I already have. I'm counting it as a blessing that I can quit work everyday not feeling stressed to pick up my son, that I can take a lunch hour to nourish my body and do something for my soul. It's not what I imagined and I do admit to fighting it almost monthly because I love pushing myself to the next level. But then I take a look around and ask myself, "What is missing from my life that I don't already have?"<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OxGCTlHjHBqLTP8143o3oPMPYERd7YkxO5krUDFZ-xWa1UFilhO79YpC7q0tMwoJxKxfGiZ-S1EvbB3cz2lM2DubPNsMPv6p6OmuB9qKOPChZ4R-aXhbDIQljc_hMf3HGUI9aH1Fcak/s640/blogger-image-1740863067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OxGCTlHjHBqLTP8143o3oPMPYERd7YkxO5krUDFZ-xWa1UFilhO79YpC7q0tMwoJxKxfGiZ-S1EvbB3cz2lM2DubPNsMPv6p6OmuB9qKOPChZ4R-aXhbDIQljc_hMf3HGUI9aH1Fcak/s640/blogger-image-1740863067.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-23119878412003251072013-12-06T20:51:00.001-08:002013-12-06T21:28:52.733-08:00Polyvore Creation: Pink & Gold Christmas<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
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<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/pink_gold_christmas/set?.embedder=9217222&.svc=blogger&id=106171942" target="_blank">Pink & Gold Christmas</a> by <a href="http://frommypencil.polyvore.com/?.embedder=9217222&.svc=blogger" target="_blank">frommypencil</a> featuring a <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/tufted_sofa/shop?query=tufted+sofa" target="_blank">tufted sofa</a></small></div>
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Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-61102923330973960182013-12-05T22:46:00.001-08:002013-12-06T14:06:16.600-08:00Here comes Santa Claus and good fortune<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYxBI8lMS1VxMMshuVFMTUlcv1Kn9ONTZkTK5qS5FW4qlRaJyAphC9nwj1sGXKafEI3aWdMQCySVjhE5Ut2TEie84ilj0EupYlDGczBI9_H4vGUUX7Ncjem8FYVZwVDlN9RohyUfXt3s/s640/blogger-image-2066125246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYxBI8lMS1VxMMshuVFMTUlcv1Kn9ONTZkTK5qS5FW4qlRaJyAphC9nwj1sGXKafEI3aWdMQCySVjhE5Ut2TEie84ilj0EupYlDGczBI9_H4vGUUX7Ncjem8FYVZwVDlN9RohyUfXt3s/s640/blogger-image-2066125246.jpg"></a></div>This year, I wanted to do a real tree. Actually, I wanted to add a real tree and put up our two fake trees. Insane, I know, but this girl loves sparkle for Christmas. If it don't glitter, it ain't Christmas in my book.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0X-TXnK_Kp1-xY_0mJcBPN0HNdf1WbLD07W_5ir-AoArgNN9-YcfOIPVHo0UnuycmPaoQEd02m-QKBUMTYbItPXAEIDFcRPWnozAVGpDjfV3N3uqPaFf20chKztCUHXfa4_-B3Tm8Sw/s640/blogger-image--1655145307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0X-TXnK_Kp1-xY_0mJcBPN0HNdf1WbLD07W_5ir-AoArgNN9-YcfOIPVHo0UnuycmPaoQEd02m-QKBUMTYbItPXAEIDFcRPWnozAVGpDjfV3N3uqPaFf20chKztCUHXfa4_-B3Tm8Sw/s640/blogger-image--1655145307.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><div><div>So Jonathan researched tree farms in the area. This was after I nixed his idea of a $50 Groupon for tree delivery. I wanted the real deal: ride a sleigh, pick it out, hack it down, drink hot chocolate, and tote her home. Not having done the tree farm thing before, I didn't realize that's stuff Christmas movies are made of. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">(Blame my mother in law. She has me watching the Hallmark channel this season.) We did go to a farm that has sleigh ride, cookies, and hot chocolate, so that does exist. But there was no snow like I fantasized. And Vincent didn't want to ride the tractor pulled sleigh ride. He was having a grumpy day. He did enjoy walking through the trees and helping pick one out. To have him tell it, he picked it out all by himself. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU2-tXheIjB7ztwPUleosxmd8_Higf0P_Vyi2PsxYJHm8I0HguAFkHMl2kI-RBQiZWX6i1ESHTy2sB2qMZj0sDszijhZ765jzlCpBr2msj4dBZuFYN3YjoV9yD48xkfS0zFsNQIa03kAs/s640/blogger-image-605727468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU2-tXheIjB7ztwPUleosxmd8_Higf0P_Vyi2PsxYJHm8I0HguAFkHMl2kI-RBQiZWX6i1ESHTy2sB2qMZj0sDszijhZ765jzlCpBr2msj4dBZuFYN3YjoV9yD48xkfS0zFsNQIa03kAs/s640/blogger-image-605727468.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Ironically we ended up with a Frazier fir that was brought in from Wisconsin. We could have picked one of the two varieties grown in Kansas, but we were pretty smitten with the Frazier. Next year I'm going for the Kansas native for the mere experience of hacking it down. It was a pricey adventure ($80) for a species of tree we could have gotten for $30 at a stand, but it was fun to check it out and they shook and tied up the tree for you. Vincent really enjoyed sorting through our ornaments and playing with them. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHG_u27Hf1hpp0SlTcx1cZyDLPHMEiOEWG-Q5qBinUVroFYjKd3BzEdvCSSrhrcTEa9tt04bNLEzivz4YBGD82M8q27bgEU3hyphenhyphenD4aaEW_xMyxgNwqMxRy0PHWspiapv0J73r9zcmhEkbo/s640/blogger-image-157960401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHG_u27Hf1hpp0SlTcx1cZyDLPHMEiOEWG-Q5qBinUVroFYjKd3BzEdvCSSrhrcTEa9tt04bNLEzivz4YBGD82M8q27bgEU3hyphenhyphenD4aaEW_xMyxgNwqMxRy0PHWspiapv0J73r9zcmhEkbo/s640/blogger-image-157960401.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In really good news and fortune: Jonathan got a new job! No more 2 hour commute coming our way this summer, more money, and learning new skills to make him more marketable for future jobs, say, in Colorado some day. </div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-8413865251026638322013-11-17T18:23:00.001-08:002013-12-05T22:30:41.320-08:00In sickness and in health: Our November First Vincent seemed to have a tummy bug and then later he started coughing, which meanings gagging and puking. Then it got worse. Like, "Point me to the nearest insane asylum because I'm too exhausted to deal with a toddler acting like a newborn" worse. We brought him in. Thank god our pediatrician offers urgent care hours on the weekend. When he was finally seen, it was the prolonged listen to his chest that had me worried. They suspected pneumonia, and it was running around his school. So he got his first stab at a nebulizer and walked away with a prescription for an inhaler and an antibiotic. By Monday he wasn't showing improvement, so we brought him back in. A chest x-Ray was ordered and it turns out, he was having infection induced asthma, whatever that means. The good news, he's acting and feeling like his regular self. Bad news: all his hacking all over us got me a nasty strep-looking throat with Jonathan tagging behind. Being both sick really sucks and we started out being sleep deprived on top of it. Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-47190281622386963122013-11-11T13:44:00.001-08:002013-11-11T13:44:14.489-08:00But, butOne thing I've always known about myself: I'm not a leader. I'm the best damn second in command you'll ever have though, but when you work in journalism (and I'm sure this is true for many professions), you have to be your own leader, and it's a constant struggle for me. I like collaborating. I love taking ideas and perfecting them. But to lead, brew ideas and serve them up, not my cup of tea. <div>In my professional career lately I haven't been giving it my all. Contributors to this: a weak boss (who isn't a leader and more often than not expects me to lead), poor pay, and a disconnected company. I hope in the next few years I can move on to something else, something hopefully out of publishing and much more gratifying. Yes, yes, magazines are wonderful, when you're not reading them for errors and content; oh, and when the subject isn't about cable connectors and PAs. I'm sure that a different subject matter might be more exciting, but the production would still be the same. So for now, I'm thinking I better dig my heels in, refresh what I did learn once upon a time in a leadership class, and put on the conductors hat. Toot toot!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8v3yB8iurmX9hHw8JqWVgDNN6158g5GRAfdeKcNEZCHPZ9u88ckM3E2JuYwVgtQ4ikngGj-iIExtPC7J2uwoPi9sodxl8U4-8azKAgB7BYZg9MuGPThdFX8-6wS2OkP5h2n-ZB1YVWN4/s640/blogger-image-1678187276.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8v3yB8iurmX9hHw8JqWVgDNN6158g5GRAfdeKcNEZCHPZ9u88ckM3E2JuYwVgtQ4ikngGj-iIExtPC7J2uwoPi9sodxl8U4-8azKAgB7BYZg9MuGPThdFX8-6wS2OkP5h2n-ZB1YVWN4/s640/blogger-image-1678187276.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5048969173926722260.post-34686921075303074272013-10-30T07:51:00.002-07:002013-10-30T07:54:13.223-07:00Shut the front doorOne of my sister's had sent me a picture of a wreath a friend of hers made. Oh? I love a well-crafted wreath, but usually they're $50+ and I don't pretend to be gifted in the art of wreath-making. I'll try just about any other craft, but somehow I don't see wreaths and I getting along. Usually they're more than I'm willing to spend on something I'll only hang a few weeks out of the year, but when my sister said she makes them for $40, I was all, "Shut the front door." I can manage $40. The image she had sent was a burlap and hydrangea wreath. Perfect for a spring or summer, but I wanted a fall wreath. My wish was delivered. Now I want a wreath for every season. Adds a little bit of happiness to our entry, even if the only people who can appreciate it are the occasional visitor and myself when I go to check the mail. Love the "G" nestled in there. Initials make my heart pitter patter.<br>
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<br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOOX8wZAPWN1qT6b092_AFO4t6bR3tIpMZmO9TX4gC4mWkNuoMrbu6aUWJFY29RRJvxEFeWomDbfWnW5AgoA9MQJaHZcJcv5QZfKumrKOJllpLXub5aO1C2Z6YKJlHYHUzopCyDKJEZo/s640/blogger-image--1329064272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOOX8wZAPWN1qT6b092_AFO4t6bR3tIpMZmO9TX4gC4mWkNuoMrbu6aUWJFY29RRJvxEFeWomDbfWnW5AgoA9MQJaHZcJcv5QZfKumrKOJllpLXub5aO1C2Z6YKJlHYHUzopCyDKJEZo/s640/blogger-image--1329064272.jpg"></a></div>Jessacahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07610472867468390772noreply@blogger.com0