tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291152258394102962023-11-16T08:19:00.129-08:00Proof of LifeAn Experiment in My Own Photography, Writing, and ParentingAllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.comBlogger142125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-30828313560933772732012-11-03T18:02:00.001-07:002012-11-03T18:02:02.688-07:00Tea Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfg6v9pY3oYxLPWm0ycmaznLWy7AO6XuuSqZOJ48PxDU6-E7wfPFMxiegn3IZv-8toyqrTjXcqQd8TXoYnv4QZzAlN_cZ-m6tkRssrtRfYQaZHPXWTs50sSdFCL0jkvb1_bK21vfJsusuK/s1536/Photo%252520Nov%2525203%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252011%25253A27%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfg6v9pY3oYxLPWm0ycmaznLWy7AO6XuuSqZOJ48PxDU6-E7wfPFMxiegn3IZv-8toyqrTjXcqQd8TXoYnv4QZzAlN_cZ-m6tkRssrtRfYQaZHPXWTs50sSdFCL0jkvb1_bK21vfJsusuK/s500/Photo%252520Nov%2525203%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252011%25253A27%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351990589304.2043" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="594"></a></div>
Harper and I sat today and had our first of many tea parties. We both got gussied up, courtesy of her ever growing dress up basket. Harper loves to clink glasses and Cheers! with others. She doesn't quite get the fact that you're supposed to drink after you cheers, she'd rather just knock cups over and over. But I'm okay with that, the more cheer the better, right?!<br/><br/>We're planning on getting Harper a play kitchen for Christmas, and I can't wait for more elaborate and Harper planned tea parties. <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-31176178877922821462012-11-01T18:26:00.001-07:002012-11-01T18:26:05.460-07:00Halloween Fun! I'm not a huge Halloween fan. I hate dressing up. Hate it. I wouldn't even do crazy sock day when I was a teacher. I like candy, but the sorting and gorging that used to be my favorite part of this weird "holiday" has sort of lost its flavor for me. <br/><br/>However, I realize that I'm responsible for the traditions and excitement that each holiday will bring for Harper. So it's time we get a little festive up in here. Start early, I say, that way by the time she has an opinion and wants to be a part of it, we've mastered the art of pumpkin carving/costume dressing/advent calendaring/egg decorating/holidaying it up!<br/><br/><p style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="text-align: center; ">So Neal and I carved pumpkins this week. Neal is actually a very good artist. And he makes me settle down and be patient. Draw a sketch, put a rough sketch on the pumpkin, slow down and actually carve the sketch. Without him, my pumpkin would be a sad sad gourd. </span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lduLZaKazy9h29tqVvBTRPkD77bC6qjrFine5CX5S6pcm9GSYLJVWyDU_7jczgjqYJeLFZbWJkdk4eaOTpnNmKJB_hqOSwSn1tFN-uJygySwFGPET4QE-KUNfJ5eqjavtKjwQNofmRVr/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252027%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A21%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lduLZaKazy9h29tqVvBTRPkD77bC6qjrFine5CX5S6pcm9GSYLJVWyDU_7jczgjqYJeLFZbWJkdk4eaOTpnNmKJB_hqOSwSn1tFN-uJygySwFGPET4QE-KUNfJ5eqjavtKjwQNofmRVr/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252027%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A21%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351819431100.261" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="375"></a></div>
<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">I didn't dress up this year. The way I see it, one year in the not too distant future, Harper will <em>want</em> me to dress up. Or I'll have to dress up to get her to dress up. Regardless, I'm taking this year and hopefully the next couple to get away with just dressing up the babe. But you can bet your butt that my daughter had the cutest costume around. Ok, even though I'm competely biased to my own flesh and blood, she may not have had the cutest costume...there were some GOOD ones out there. Let's just say she was the cutest elephant around. </span><br/><br/> <br/><br/><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHJCAcSO2RRJ289IfhHwQsg2oMOUWkJmef3MMCGYBdouSyjFkhSYOLe5hY5CAKcYCa6sYWwEBSAZQQ_BjyPr4N275N9PXVT6bIBtryBcIVxPAQvuFUMrD4pgct37wdCnTyoaatYKbqBfr/s2048/Photo%252520Nov%2525201%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A02%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="text-align: center; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHJCAcSO2RRJ289IfhHwQsg2oMOUWkJmef3MMCGYBdouSyjFkhSYOLe5hY5CAKcYCa6sYWwEBSAZQQ_BjyPr4N275N9PXVT6bIBtryBcIVxPAQvuFUMrD4pgct37wdCnTyoaatYKbqBfr/s500/Photo%252520Nov%2525201%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A02%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351819431099.7026" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a><div><br>
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Last year, Neal was so disappointed because he only got one trick-or-treater (Harper and I were out of town). I just didn't understand. Where were all the kids?? This year, we were a little more in the know. Our neighborhood has a Halloween "parade" that starts at the end of our block, and all the little monsters and princesses walk down the street and trick or treat to all the adults standing around. It's pretty genius really. And turns out, we have a TON of kids in our neighborhood! There had to have been close to 100 kids. It was NUTS!<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59O-dT9HlPJ8NRY8n6DuEmduhTYDmwlLXPZnCu8TN2gs1xhGd64YIAT8CirNZxInmBXA_LKXEKrsv3HSDzcjoSS7X8Uj-I30TlvrwnLWCw_e7goMkwVqO3wI5mNhjET7jICghava7xVpp/s500/Photo%252520Nov%2525201%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A00%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351819431031.8362" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></div>
<br/><br/>She may not have totally understood all the costumes, but she sure did get the candy. I've busted her with a Kit Kat and a Butterfinger today. I should be more careful where I leave her bucket lying around. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaX20d0JB8hHm0qTqvc5SxJQB9c5mc0njJiarK-4TuBG6rW3B1iw_P_NbZ561apX9-jn6htD_umT7HD0ZnicCUmqkHxSADuYDmgptdMfzgtUsDfK1W8iL_tFWequOzXqpfuLpkqrMSvSj_/s2048/Photo%252520Nov%2525201%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525208%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaX20d0JB8hHm0qTqvc5SxJQB9c5mc0njJiarK-4TuBG6rW3B1iw_P_NbZ561apX9-jn6htD_umT7HD0ZnicCUmqkHxSADuYDmgptdMfzgtUsDfK1W8iL_tFWequOzXqpfuLpkqrMSvSj_/s500/Photo%252520Nov%2525201%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525208%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351819431024.7979" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div>
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<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-8098788434803632462012-11-01T07:09:00.001-07:002012-11-01T07:09:13.183-07:00A Cousin Trip to Philly Sarah and Donevan came to town last week for a quick stop before we headed to Philly to see GrAnne. Harper was pretty enamored with her cousin. The first thing she wanted to do when she saw him was hold him in her lap. How does she already know that's a thing?<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPhtoqlhSqoiVfgjXKyyR_wfCXAIkhziTZQwIOuX5yHa6k-REIdWoiVz_w9Bhtah4sbzUfdFP4Nh4gWbg2czQNBmBNCYdccOm7aCahJVY4MmSqZlX0K5eNf4VndYul6wCqfp2vRYbieO4/s1280/Photo%252520Oct%25252018%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525202%25253A05%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPhtoqlhSqoiVfgjXKyyR_wfCXAIkhziTZQwIOuX5yHa6k-REIdWoiVz_w9Bhtah4sbzUfdFP4Nh4gWbg2czQNBmBNCYdccOm7aCahJVY4MmSqZlX0K5eNf4VndYul6wCqfp2vRYbieO4/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252018%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525202%25253A05%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351778571616.895" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; ">Then came the obligatory bath picture. They loved splashing each other.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bl7U6JbOQAdUeiICX8Tx1IqJoNk7tNEczHc3uBHV5490xOrxctW8MF1VQCIXilrxwPMJ63sVxv7mOYbNofm2NMmTWxWwrWaVQUu-ml_vq158YD16cGAk5tJVouJ8fUk92lQK2Rw0teqp/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252019%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525207%25253A13%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bl7U6JbOQAdUeiICX8Tx1IqJoNk7tNEczHc3uBHV5490xOrxctW8MF1VQCIXilrxwPMJ63sVxv7mOYbNofm2NMmTWxWwrWaVQUu-ml_vq158YD16cGAk5tJVouJ8fUk92lQK2Rw0teqp/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252019%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525207%25253A13%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351778571605.8237" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a></div>
And even though the bus driver at the Arboretum was a jerk, we still managed to make it to a church pumpkin patch for a photo shoot. My daughter makes taking pictures next to impossible, but we got a few (can't wait for professional family pics this weekend...).<br/><br/><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUzuR1adpAlXcnPZgbMFt2lOQoq8uMsLM1DIm8K2S_cmKvCv9nK4zhrSnkXXThrrNYgjLJ5olhheEIPD_TN45nOfdb5z6fYA2uJj_sQd9fTDzF6vzStCzLChqgSYzbs5wmmjBrLaFEwIdj/s1375/Photo%252520Oct%25252018%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252011%25253A35%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="text-align: center; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUzuR1adpAlXcnPZgbMFt2lOQoq8uMsLM1DIm8K2S_cmKvCv9nK4zhrSnkXXThrrNYgjLJ5olhheEIPD_TN45nOfdb5z6fYA2uJj_sQd9fTDzF6vzStCzLChqgSYzbs5wmmjBrLaFEwIdj/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252018%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252011%25253A35%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351778571605.6296" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></p>
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<br/><br/> Once in Philly, we mostly sat around GrAnne's apartment, but did make it out to Alvethorpe Park one afternoon. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa0BWbbPOouwwCzY48bv-d_aVi0FXxm3cIHPThlkNkCMofiXJ0JN3NdKxug8qtoMKKkf5hIoBGF-Vb7cAuMYTth1VB2zfCQ3c1jY3xeems-iPT9D1AHXEQFxbYIgsYqi5peJACSR-G3x5/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252028%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525206%25253A44%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa0BWbbPOouwwCzY48bv-d_aVi0FXxm3cIHPThlkNkCMofiXJ0JN3NdKxug8qtoMKKkf5hIoBGF-Vb7cAuMYTth1VB2zfCQ3c1jY3xeems-iPT9D1AHXEQFxbYIgsYqi5peJACSR-G3x5/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252028%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525206%25253A44%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351778571603.3955" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF4DXqzEACIokZDbdppyTkdGd2yTZAOXozq_NRBmmXqPu300EONby_dmYMlvRmqHypleLe5B0rKumGWK_crSZuWZWZGX9R4d5U_kxDpUktnLbwgVardshatsJkYMSXdda0POpq7M2aps8/s1374/Photo%252520Oct%25252022%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525202%25253A46%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF4DXqzEACIokZDbdppyTkdGd2yTZAOXozq_NRBmmXqPu300EONby_dmYMlvRmqHypleLe5B0rKumGWK_crSZuWZWZGX9R4d5U_kxDpUktnLbwgVardshatsJkYMSXdda0POpq7M2aps8/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252022%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525202%25253A46%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351778571611.869" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah, just being Sarah...</td></tr></tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; "> Our Philly trip was perfectly timed as GrAnne had fallen and bruised her ribs a few days before we got there. She needed the pick me up, and I don't think she stopped smiling the entire time we were there. It was not easy keeping Harper contained and entertained in the assisted living complex, but we did lots of exploring and elevator riding. </div>
<div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; ">GrAnne is the most amazing 90-year-old I know, and I'm so glad we got to take her two great grandchildren to visit her together. A priceless visit.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchA_8x-z2dcUxBvnF0YkPSem4D5ojbKHwTiyJz5JdPV5zl2PAttHqM5P8028gKXZO0EWLRhVIhZU1sLs4bDtfd2VoONlwhLDP_oxqgnvZzUarzNZ9VB9mS5-zeQ4w-iv2Lt02JMyI1e7d/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252023%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525201%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchA_8x-z2dcUxBvnF0YkPSem4D5ojbKHwTiyJz5JdPV5zl2PAttHqM5P8028gKXZO0EWLRhVIhZU1sLs4bDtfd2VoONlwhLDP_oxqgnvZzUarzNZ9VB9mS5-zeQ4w-iv2Lt02JMyI1e7d/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252023%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525201%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351778571637.4" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="375"></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUzuR1adpAlXcnPZgbMFt2lOQoq8uMsLM1DIm8K2S_cmKvCv9nK4zhrSnkXXThrrNYgjLJ5olhheEIPD_TN45nOfdb5z6fYA2uJj_sQd9fTDzF6vzStCzLChqgSYzbs5wmmjBrLaFEwIdj/s1375/Photo%252520Oct%25252018%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252011%25253A35%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br>
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<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-50727051637314325642012-10-24T20:43:00.001-07:002012-10-24T20:43:18.190-07:00Sweet Adeline's Second Surgery Okay, people...the Prewetts need your prayers again. Tomorrow at 8:15 Adeline Camille goes in for her second heart surgery. You guys...this is, seriously, the sweetest baby ever. And in her short little life has endured more than so many of us will have to go through ever. Tomorrow and the next 10 or so days will be long for the Prewetts. Please keep their entire family in your prayers. You can follow updates from the surgery on their blog: www.camilleprewett.blogspot.com. Pray for the surgeons and nurses, pray for strength and healing for Addie, pray for comfort and peace and strength for Camille and Scott, and pray for understanding and patience for sweet Ellie. These days away from her momma and daddy are hard on her too. I am in awe of this precious family, for their strength and faith in The Lord throughout this entire ordeal. They need us to lift them up in prayer. Thanks, friends and family! I know they appreciate all the love and support that has poured in since Addie's diagnosis. They need it now, more than ever.<br/><br/><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBhyphenhyphenXixQI2wQnenMLHm5feNCv12_qcOfL2b-xhYwzE9ue3mTWatv8u9ArEvMVl4FakDpGynUi3qEe6FVSAS3YdQTqopjyDhMrnSd0iSC7_P5dfS3g9hc5POuzEPATtgXg8OWW3KnaKYb0/s1365/Photo%252520Oct%25252024%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525209%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBhyphenhyphenXixQI2wQnenMLHm5feNCv12_qcOfL2b-xhYwzE9ue3mTWatv8u9ArEvMVl4FakDpGynUi3qEe6FVSAS3YdQTqopjyDhMrnSd0iSC7_P5dfS3g9hc5POuzEPATtgXg8OWW3KnaKYb0/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252024%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525209%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1351136526085.8176" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="750"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo stolen from Camille's Facebook...courtesy of Britt Savage Photography.</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-89048360706790474962012-10-16T08:26:00.001-07:002012-10-16T08:26:46.153-07:00The State Fair Ok, I admit it, the State Fair is cool. I never really understood the hoopla surrounding the State Fair before. I mean, people here <em>love </em>the State Fair. I have friends who go, like, well, more than once...and that seemed <em>crazy </em>to me. As an outsider making judgements without ever having been myself, it just seemed like it was a crowded, overpriced, dirty, loud, fairground. Why subject myself to that when I can have a corn dog from the freezer section at Kroger's for a tiny fraction of the price?! <br/><br/>But I get it now. <br/><br/>It happened sort of by accident. My friend Ashley and I decided we wanted to take our girls down to the Aquarium for a little adventure. They were advertising a lower price during the fair, which we assumed was to lure people away from the fair since surely no one would want to <em>learn about water and a creatures while the fair was going on.</em> So we loaded the girls up, and took the DART down to Fair Park.<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowaBvPGHvf6Hf_N8ppKQ61vIB95glaAI-8W4kx1Kv6qDPoY8zjqeB-e3cYyPTUB20ldtneyizHVuWL582RGoe6ht_oUnzMd9dMdt5P1aZ8ZtsilAUW5mSH9eKPmytkxld_Y-jj9mdpO9i/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525209%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowaBvPGHvf6Hf_N8ppKQ61vIB95glaAI-8W4kx1Kv6qDPoY8zjqeB-e3cYyPTUB20ldtneyizHVuWL582RGoe6ht_oUnzMd9dMdt5P1aZ8ZtsilAUW5mSH9eKPmytkxld_Y-jj9mdpO9i/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525209%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980791.2659" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a></div>
However, the "lower price" was because you had to <em>pay admission to the fair </em>to even get to the aquarium. What!? It's pretty obvious now, in hindsight, but there was NO word of this on their website. Anyway, we chugged some Cokes so we could get a discounted admission, and once we were in, we were all, "why would we go to the aquarium and learn about water and sea creatures when we just got into the FAIR?!"<br/><br/>So change of plans...<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-_AYn0RdZ3MOm0WkzXKB2sicdSWJ5nu4IGSqHqzr2jizHf0_H4IObqdVkNl-THIlcsUSLL91Xg43i9aaoq3HWV3G3TRXcx8Ij5kECdMerMuZj-pLaZ-2FK6MJqE5Y2hVASN2JRIM-kZb/s1280/Photo%252520Oct%25252011%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252012%25253A02%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-_AYn0RdZ3MOm0WkzXKB2sicdSWJ5nu4IGSqHqzr2jizHf0_H4IObqdVkNl-THIlcsUSLL91Xg43i9aaoq3HWV3G3TRXcx8Ij5kECdMerMuZj-pLaZ-2FK6MJqE5Y2hVASN2JRIM-kZb/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252011%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252012%25253A02%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980832.739" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div>
Ok, I'll say it, I was wrong. I liked the fair. There are games, and animals, and actual things for kids to do! <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; ">The Barnyard was pretty crazy. It was packed with people and all kinds of animals. There was a giraffe, some cows, a hedgehog, animals that I had never seen before. And then there were the goats. And you can feed the goats from little cups that these crazy little animals would rip from your hands and swallow whole. I mean they should warn you about that. Because Harper <em>loved </em>the goats. But I was seriously scared that they would rip her hands off. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIdLG7Wuvi8Sa61GYgOvZHM2v2h9b0pnVqmeaBmvJnAtNUeeGOrrN7iC8C5N-H3hlsdLVxq-je32S9nr8FgNLRHWqScw8YOIw94_bkCY2z7_8S-XBW0olhScX0a9dGrwlJTTKkZKOh6QQa/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A15%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIdLG7Wuvi8Sa61GYgOvZHM2v2h9b0pnVqmeaBmvJnAtNUeeGOrrN7iC8C5N-H3hlsdLVxq-je32S9nr8FgNLRHWqScw8YOIw94_bkCY2z7_8S-XBW0olhScX0a9dGrwlJTTKkZKOh6QQa/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A15%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980846.9648" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a><br>
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<div class="separator" style="text-align: center;clear: both; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlA2SS5XVbyxGCKl2RNLUFqbq3qi8JM1HWTY3y2TR2lLMcQxrNm7jE8Hw1RzlVSxfioOf_ac1XYMLm8J3Mi8c0u3TIPsyOaqvd1bWzISYgTpFL6AI1Ry8SDDCXvxGszo3PSR8KEGXtv1J/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A15%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="text-align: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlA2SS5XVbyxGCKl2RNLUFqbq3qi8JM1HWTY3y2TR2lLMcQxrNm7jE8Hw1RzlVSxfioOf_ac1XYMLm8J3Mi8c0u3TIPsyOaqvd1bWzISYgTpFL6AI1Ry8SDDCXvxGszo3PSR8KEGXtv1J/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A15%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980867.4146" class="" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a></div>
<br/><br/>They also had this super cute farm where they teach the kids where their food comes from. Harper didn't care about anything except her bucket and playing in the dirt. But she sure looked cute!!<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LWR5a82paVLDOZTI-HwsGy-jq5MLERLw9uthaO1P2UnDbZ5C5etrIQKVchBstwljKUSG5p1ux9GiYOEzhJhltmjtCl-T81y_e-0ozxD0wXHiuYOFh3KpbVHgmQFG-dpBS0oMI77kv4la/s1374/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A34%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LWR5a82paVLDOZTI-HwsGy-jq5MLERLw9uthaO1P2UnDbZ5C5etrIQKVchBstwljKUSG5p1ux9GiYOEzhJhltmjtCl-T81y_e-0ozxD0wXHiuYOFh3KpbVHgmQFG-dpBS0oMI77kv4la/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A34%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980819.55" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJgPrfB48dFGSXhDiZLk73b9OM6i6-AXPWQcj8OC8oskUmessFP9R2QKRLCqyO7ssqnAUBECwDvAw6fEVXfJR0OZbcl7mMKhivtS_1XwOyisrn9LhOSvQGFwbhkg9E1BRvPDWWjiK9XC7A/s1374/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A36%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJgPrfB48dFGSXhDiZLk73b9OM6i6-AXPWQcj8OC8oskUmessFP9R2QKRLCqyO7ssqnAUBECwDvAw6fEVXfJR0OZbcl7mMKhivtS_1XwOyisrn9LhOSvQGFwbhkg9E1BRvPDWWjiK9XC7A/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A36%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980783.764" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KaSYNjotMsEEfukpcVGt9asr10AmLIhkVQz_oPDLk4uHATPxbwKqg8J_TX4-C0cfTlACU1LPQ_DrP73cdJSULNvCMLcLBjhC9oEoyj14OqCikFfYoZZvJcM0eU85cTsZUISsuw_kHCyr/s2048/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KaSYNjotMsEEfukpcVGt9asr10AmLIhkVQz_oPDLk4uHATPxbwKqg8J_TX4-C0cfTlACU1LPQ_DrP73cdJSULNvCMLcLBjhC9oEoyj14OqCikFfYoZZvJcM0eU85cTsZUISsuw_kHCyr/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252010%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252010%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980853.545" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a></div>
Oh, and that corn dog from the freezer section at Kroger's? That's trash compared to the cornY dogs from Fletcher's. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_ufMza-K6svLv6zA7fzCsPVUhg-G74ws5rAN644kDaMJZdq59LEnBVec12aHHlsBT1ebJ4aYIfjMCJ_B7vbl5y_bRwyIx4Wgd5kqnBktnaVT2R-2jPWUBjU6oFa5rgdUhJ5o_wBTGjVP/s1280/Photo%252520Oct%25252011%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252012%25253A03%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_ufMza-K6svLv6zA7fzCsPVUhg-G74ws5rAN644kDaMJZdq59LEnBVec12aHHlsBT1ebJ4aYIfjMCJ_B7vbl5y_bRwyIx4Wgd5kqnBktnaVT2R-2jPWUBjU6oFa5rgdUhJ5o_wBTGjVP/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252011%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252012%25253A03%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980860.2021" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div>
And come on, where else can you get fried Oreos??<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaIre57suLlSkprBjyA9X4iF0tb1bWyPKpz9-tVR6yJyjw-SkrmVUY27eXhkGw0nCVU368239bFShuc1PEjxU1WLOD-ayCqCRsnsX1B7Nr6KnxXq8cGgf-6EIK96vqH2YIBZobz6JZNYfj/s1536/Photo%252520Oct%25252011%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252012%25253A10%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaIre57suLlSkprBjyA9X4iF0tb1bWyPKpz9-tVR6yJyjw-SkrmVUY27eXhkGw0nCVU368239bFShuc1PEjxU1WLOD-ayCqCRsnsX1B7Nr6KnxXq8cGgf-6EIK96vqH2YIBZobz6JZNYfj/s500/Photo%252520Oct%25252011%25252C%2525202012%25252C%25252012%25253A10%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1350400980805.1946" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="667"></a></div>
The lesson here, people? Don't knock it 'til you try it. Seriously. Those Oreos were amazing. And I'll be back to the fair, no doubt.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-76226208387413545092012-09-29T06:00:00.001-07:002012-09-29T06:00:07.021-07:00Rosemary Beach 2012So I found a new favorite vacation spot. Although, you could have sent me just about anywhere and it would've been a new favorite vacation spot. We went to Rosemary Beach, Florida for a week with the Dicksons and it was glorious! I couldn't pick just a handful of pics for the blog, so here's a link to my photo journal I created (you'll have to copy and paste it in a new window). <a href="https://www.icloud.com/journal/#8;CAEQARoQshE_35ZNqbvJnQr7s-YQhQ;F4FAC51D-956B-4018-82B7-9B7EB59DFA06" target="_self" title=""></a><a href="https://www.icloud.com/journal/#8;CAEQARoQshE_35ZNqbvJnQr7s-YQhQ;F4FAC51D-956B-4018-82B7-9B7EB59DFA06" target="_self" title=""></a><br/><br/> https://www.icloud.com/journal/#8;CAEQARoQshE_35ZNqbvJnQr7s-YQhQ;F4FAC51D-956B-4018-82B7-9B7EB59DFA06<br/><br/> We rode our bikes everywhere, had a date night (thanks, Nonnie and Ogee!), ate ice cream almost every night, and became Kadima pros! Harper liked the sand a lot, and the water only a little. It was an incredible vacation, and the sunsets and rolling tides reminded me how good God is. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXlQbifE-bQ8_qDncY3KT4z-AfmFhmvlcEqdiYvZ8CttNkgV4Uy5s1A_xq0RsdRIYe-_gk5TSZZKJpPL5eZKzhks_PZV5iXzwCT2RBUt6n0enFTFQjUfe5aD9xvhpZpsm1QNJ8f6SiP6K/s2048/Photo%252520Sep%25252021%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525205%25253A45%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXlQbifE-bQ8_qDncY3KT4z-AfmFhmvlcEqdiYvZ8CttNkgV4Uy5s1A_xq0RsdRIYe-_gk5TSZZKJpPL5eZKzhks_PZV5iXzwCT2RBUt6n0enFTFQjUfe5aD9xvhpZpsm1QNJ8f6SiP6K/s500/Photo%252520Sep%25252021%25252C%2525202012%25252C%2525205%25253A45%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1348923506037.8623" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a></div>
<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-51266963943054277002012-09-07T19:12:00.001-07:002012-09-07T19:12:46.880-07:00Gentle Reminders The last couple of days have been tough. Harper is getting her first two molars and a cold this week. Awesome. Did I also mention she's starting to perfect her already solid tantrum? Believe me when I say that I rely heavily on getting out of the house each day. Unfortunately, yesterday was a total bust. We were supposed to go up to visit my friend Dawn and her brand new, precious baby Stella. But with said cold, I called Dawn and told her we were staying far, far away from her and her three day old. I was really disappointed, and in all honesty, I don't know if it was with not getting to go visit a sweet perfect newborn, being a flaky friend to a new mom who could probably use some company, or the fact that my toddler (we're out of the "little girl" phase from yesterday just a for the time being...pigtails are out and the realization that she's still only 15 months was read loud and clear today) was keeping me from the only adult time I had planned for the next 8 hours. <br/><br/>Anyway, I needed some perspective after a long week and found it at Betsy's today while helping her in her hour of need. I'm going to start referring to her house as the Land of 1,000 Photo Ops.<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiURBvvvybNOd1j5JH4u8gmcCm3wf2Rav5ZybyW4m6FMXUJx_sXQZLPlfSDEGCZ2CEJ0htTmwVcQAx5cYnMGKfjS8DWXjt5o_7xARg0iICWa-JX4P9k0q7TZb40vLLVPES-I0g6KoZ9bGo/s1405/Photo%252520Sep%2525207%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiURBvvvybNOd1j5JH4u8gmcCm3wf2Rav5ZybyW4m6FMXUJx_sXQZLPlfSDEGCZ2CEJ0htTmwVcQAx5cYnMGKfjS8DWXjt5o_7xARg0iICWa-JX4P9k0q7TZb40vLLVPES-I0g6KoZ9bGo/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525207%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1347070053514.584" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOKfhhE70LrXlnk2u_l8srrAVu7K7vXBsEnGMgCXKY-abJp03NzQuknYu4fmOvyyRcc5wgzXNiCVLuHb70C-Z9r85o_PxMittY9FnmZXtmJSipE1ASXl1lNTspn4Yj5oG2CKmDQi25oZr/s2048/Photo%252520Sep%2525207%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A55%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOKfhhE70LrXlnk2u_l8srrAVu7K7vXBsEnGMgCXKY-abJp03NzQuknYu4fmOvyyRcc5wgzXNiCVLuHb70C-Z9r85o_PxMittY9FnmZXtmJSipE1ASXl1lNTspn4Yj5oG2CKmDQi25oZr/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525207%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A55%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1347070053537.9673" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="375"></a></div>
Just a few, much needed gentle reminders on a rough day.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-18559065731363518592012-09-06T12:18:00.001-07:002012-09-06T12:18:34.992-07:00Pigtails I don't know how it happened. Yesterday afternoon, my toddler turned into a little girl. No really...<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rL1gt3MWy7a0k1keqWBjtezMEUnp74izxqczLhDcT08lgeeMb-kUWzXp3B8-ELnBDyuZr78HWQkLOb58syR4q7W3h4-VdrXQ1ikybMhNyA0WsPskDc2PpmigGJp7-X987rKp4ahzICpq/s2048/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A09%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rL1gt3MWy7a0k1keqWBjtezMEUnp74izxqczLhDcT08lgeeMb-kUWzXp3B8-ELnBDyuZr78HWQkLOb58syR4q7W3h4-VdrXQ1ikybMhNyA0WsPskDc2PpmigGJp7-X987rKp4ahzICpq/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A09%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346957795306.488" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a></div> Actually, I know exactly how it happened...I gave her pigtails. How did something so easy, so painless, change everything? <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rQMRcPVWwPF-kKoFto4oBaBXylzS2JVWukb6a-HqKr_fyMKa_WyGowqtaFShS2lCy1JHjaGVgq_DJAh5EEPf-VUHuMm8HfezNDn6XbiuNslHOE5seaUyutvxuVe3HxUV1x3edEKnGGd1/s1375/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A09%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rQMRcPVWwPF-kKoFto4oBaBXylzS2JVWukb6a-HqKr_fyMKa_WyGowqtaFShS2lCy1JHjaGVgq_DJAh5EEPf-VUHuMm8HfezNDn6XbiuNslHOE5seaUyutvxuVe3HxUV1x3edEKnGGd1/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A09%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346957795291.2786" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div> In all honesty, it's freaking adorable. I love them. However, it changed something in us both (ok, she couldn't have cared less); maybe it just changed the way I saw her. She sat still while I combed her hair; she watched in the mirror as I wrapped the tiniest hair tie around the tiniest pigtail. And when I was done, she stood up and went and picked up the last toy she had been playing with, not even realizing something was different about her. But I see it now. A little bit more every day. She's becoming more independent, more opinionated. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSkEsTwfQZmiu66aa9JAyqvkHcE-7RbJyUSeld7WR-WbO8ygz_de3L_h81oOckE_mCt-jfrru6ixVisQsgTglBsznN0KY5pY0eAiFBqbJEiRpFjVLt2Co3K7R2U9gj7-FbTyxI0HPiv9R/s1375/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A10%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSkEsTwfQZmiu66aa9JAyqvkHcE-7RbJyUSeld7WR-WbO8ygz_de3L_h81oOckE_mCt-jfrru6ixVisQsgTglBsznN0KY5pY0eAiFBqbJEiRpFjVLt2Co3K7R2U9gj7-FbTyxI0HPiv9R/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A10%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346957795388.9937" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div> She runs ahead and doesn't look back. She climbs into chairs without my help. She picks out a book and can flip through it, and when that book is Eric Carle's <em>Head to Toe</em> she can even pound her chest like a gorilla or raise her shoulders like a buffalo on the right page at the right time without any prompting from us. And if she falls and skins her knees? She doesn't even cry. She's a tough one, that little girl of mine.<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGZJP1O_38fB5YXShn-Oooei2FzfBnkqYiUBe7vSWCE6JyMWcBpm-oKicQDO_WLH6Ojb1D-I7mEXTX1koWp4i9Ed8WxxuG3x-mauVQRpoc2xmMbLrfBJ9TXUxNtndRMx0PA-jqqdxMkOW/s1375/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A18%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGZJP1O_38fB5YXShn-Oooei2FzfBnkqYiUBe7vSWCE6JyMWcBpm-oKicQDO_WLH6Ojb1D-I7mEXTX1koWp4i9Ed8WxxuG3x-mauVQRpoc2xmMbLrfBJ9TXUxNtndRMx0PA-jqqdxMkOW/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A18%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346957795373.3962" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div>But even after this transformation happened right in front of my eyes, I was given a little reprieve last night. I was reminded that even though she is growing up way too fast, she still needs her momma. Whether it's a cold or the two new teeth coming in, she needed me to rock her last night and I savored every second. In fact, I probably rushed in there a little too fast and stayed a little too long, but I needed those quiet moments in the dark last night, holding my baby, rocking her, and having her need me.<br/><br/>Maybe a bit dramatic, but those pigtails threw me for a little loop yesterday...can you tell?<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-79576097954727665182012-09-05T20:38:00.001-07:002012-09-05T20:38:48.055-07:00Fabulous!<div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; ">So that's 1 hat, 1 headband, 2 necklaces, and 2 tutus...and her pajamas! The girl likes to get dressed up, even if it's just for breakfast. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8M8cpnYcc6GmbXTmap-Ry_AS_yf0Xmn9m0PIEmQksC7Tcer-MOeeWPX3UN66qLtJJnER-PXHdzFgE8UhbQHSlY0YYNYv_lQfz7QSn9M9ZI21QTFSHaNcoXEfZNxwIKFuB2Pbr0lesn7IY/s1536/Photo%252520Sep%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A19%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8M8cpnYcc6GmbXTmap-Ry_AS_yf0Xmn9m0PIEmQksC7Tcer-MOeeWPX3UN66qLtJJnER-PXHdzFgE8UhbQHSlY0YYNYv_lQfz7QSn9M9ZI21QTFSHaNcoXEfZNxwIKFuB2Pbr0lesn7IY/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A19%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346902542668.1042" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="667"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC9t0akVnLtLvkpUnCK_Q-dX9RYnWq5aiME47p_nLnTSRSGSP_d6Fb5bWJzF2FvvoPx8RKvOMJkhRiZagk4v1L9dl43XSItuKuNHl4RqGp59gE3GamR0ksVp431pj5yUnrs1OKTuphWFrl/s1536/Photo%252520Sep%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A14%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC9t0akVnLtLvkpUnCK_Q-dX9RYnWq5aiME47p_nLnTSRSGSP_d6Fb5bWJzF2FvvoPx8RKvOMJkhRiZagk4v1L9dl43XSItuKuNHl4RqGp59gE3GamR0ksVp431pj5yUnrs1OKTuphWFrl/s500/Photo%252520Sep%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A14%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346902542678.254" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-82497431835815012262012-09-02T06:00:00.000-07:002012-09-02T06:00:04.366-07:00Mine This denim jumper was mine. How cool that one morning I woke up to the sound of my daughter ready to start a new day, got her out of her crib, changed her diaper, talked gibberish to the babbling babe, and dressed her in this adorable Madewell jumper, just like my mom did one day many years ago. When I think about the one who made me a mom, I sure do miss my own. Thanks, Marf and GrAnne for saving a piece of history so I could feel my mom so easily on a day that I could really use her. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFew0njtIm5BkoZGWCPbvuc6DzpxmbrAbtKYySOTyVCZrqv1KskVq23a8pelQOvu5aZB0pyZvVG5edeVsKHEl7TAoRIWXRmdtPLjpanZoyq9qtsz1kTludGsW3Q7GkXBfarELGjyZJhsXi/s1375/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A54%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFew0njtIm5BkoZGWCPbvuc6DzpxmbrAbtKYySOTyVCZrqv1KskVq23a8pelQOvu5aZB0pyZvVG5edeVsKHEl7TAoRIWXRmdtPLjpanZoyq9qtsz1kTludGsW3Q7GkXBfarELGjyZJhsXi/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A54%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346553431749.0247" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoD7wwqt-J8vXaDuMX0-KKUZKItxaAXRXwfPvNJVZlgmH0OAPOz5j4KlklHFe3Q6eEOnoMdh1LMw8bZClg7vzxKKmuDWuLBaWl2vUMgeLc7N-5ZHanMx4BV_-uutNOrPzj3LINb3yqxeZ/s1375/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A54%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoD7wwqt-J8vXaDuMX0-KKUZKItxaAXRXwfPvNJVZlgmH0OAPOz5j4KlklHFe3Q6eEOnoMdh1LMw8bZClg7vzxKKmuDWuLBaWl2vUMgeLc7N-5ZHanMx4BV_-uutNOrPzj3LINb3yqxeZ/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A54%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346553431750.736" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxlNShylDbue9Jg60ZQ1fwPGjL9p3on0oftWZd1vRAnW3y5omzmWWIJVTZ43_rpAYgTjU5X5Nd88abNbaC5eKWEdDftdlhhntVFVAC3-HXy7_mgkzRGkkWAa-zqlcpInN8GLAXbsdJeilg/s1375/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A54%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxlNShylDbue9Jg60ZQ1fwPGjL9p3on0oftWZd1vRAnW3y5omzmWWIJVTZ43_rpAYgTjU5X5Nd88abNbaC5eKWEdDftdlhhntVFVAC3-HXy7_mgkzRGkkWAa-zqlcpInN8GLAXbsdJeilg/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A54%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346553431698.542" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-82273392140141941182012-09-01T19:28:00.001-07:002012-09-01T19:28:25.489-07:00Going Away I'm going to try and write this post without bragging. Ah, hell...who am I kidding...Best. Weekend. Ever. <br/><br/>It's crazy to think that in the last fourteen months I have only spent a few hours here and there away from that sweet babe of mine. A few hours every couple of weeks for MOPS, an embarassingly few date nights out, sometimes leaving her with Neal for errands or Book Club...but none of these was more than three hours at time, and I always tried to get out when Harper was asleep. She'd never know. So in fourteen months, last weekend marked my first night away from Harper. <br/><br/>I have lots of excuses for why this hasn't happened yet. For some reason ready to put up some defense, like I'm the only one who hasn't left their babe for the night. I also have my line of defense ready for the people who might think I'm horrible for enjoying a night away. When in reality, why should I care either way? And are people really judging me for this...doubtful. I need to stop thinking so much. <br/><br/>It really was perfect timing for us. I'm finally done nursing, so I didn't have that to worry about. It's almost the end of summer, which means it's extra hot and West Nile-y, I'm quickly running out of indoor activities, but it's not quite time for our school year activities to start..all adding up to short nerves and very little patience or creativity. Plus, Harper has the absolute best Nonnie and Ogee so I was never worried about her. It was <em>time</em> to get away.<br/><br/>Friday we headed down to Austin, ready to leave Harper with Neal's parents for our summer birthday celebration courtesy of the best in-laws on this earth. When it was time to say goodbye Saturday morning, I was feeling a little torn. I knew I was going to miss my girl like crazy, but I couldn't get in that car fast enough. We had reservations at the JW Marriott in San Antonio with Andrew and Lindsey where the boys were golfing and the girls were spa-ing. <br/><br/><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMKKugYRiLVCE11TNlPU6P73LKWo5h8ClD-iweMWb7lyVQrrfYpZ6yaKnhJUoKBZNCO5VDcxONvmk87vNnWt9hsGL69WhnWxoyaQYCdksMuCEvcCT7yNgv6pwIornHxN6Ls7_48AqPy1fZ/s480/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMKKugYRiLVCE11TNlPU6P73LKWo5h8ClD-iweMWb7lyVQrrfYpZ6yaKnhJUoKBZNCO5VDcxONvmk87vNnWt9hsGL69WhnWxoyaQYCdksMuCEvcCT7yNgv6pwIornHxN6Ls7_48AqPy1fZ/s480/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346552892412.3894" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="480" height="640"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group hug...</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAM2QGnnqZiIij_6MLdMfHS6x4EUu4ObfNcGoHuke6D7uhSyebSv7C6M11rTLt0pUZEE7PXE-MGs2Cj7gnZnWPV5yP3L_xY-SLtEyslLdzmKqWbgNcqFXp2YVxd2Am_JKaj_yDi5wtE_YW/s640/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAM2QGnnqZiIij_6MLdMfHS6x4EUu4ObfNcGoHuke6D7uhSyebSv7C6M11rTLt0pUZEE7PXE-MGs2Cj7gnZnWPV5yP3L_xY-SLtEyslLdzmKqWbgNcqFXp2YVxd2Am_JKaj_yDi5wtE_YW/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252027%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346552892436.997" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="375"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wow...we really look like we need a vacation.</td></tr></tbody></table>After an upgrade to a golf view suite (amazing) and the best massage I've ever had, we met up with the boys and acted like stupid kids, swimming against the current in the lazy river, dunking each other behind the lifeguards' backs, flipping out of the tube at the end of the super awesome water slide. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpxoSsWuJrR7-AUkRdsUEZ4s_ZXSoH_oxMqM3O_8PMToNMtTbf8ErM5OmAJKeWzGCs4qC312_mYDqAv1kjC2rfYqllkpUpGMiJ8vCPIYMdj4oKRzkEHUL1cLVY-nCvTtdXf4GTZDslHZn/s2048/Photo%252520Aug%25252025%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A36%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpxoSsWuJrR7-AUkRdsUEZ4s_ZXSoH_oxMqM3O_8PMToNMtTbf8ErM5OmAJKeWzGCs4qC312_mYDqAv1kjC2rfYqllkpUpGMiJ8vCPIYMdj4oKRzkEHUL1cLVY-nCvTtdXf4GTZDslHZn/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252025%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A36%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346552892438.0571" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="375"></a></div> A delicious and over the top dinner followed and ended with a round of shots on the house to celebrate. Sunday brunch was amazing and included perfectly poached eggs, crab claws, oysters, and not one but TWO desserts.<br/><br/><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbaAX60NWznQEu-zpKLnfMiGav33G5X81a0TSeFU0jVzs0IAnvh497-RjfIz-7xusuy6ByEllqXMaSz-W9eQvfs9pTlbCc7TxC7b6NcgZLK3HBRlGHzdt9qdTdhjnyPVoPesh8XlXji0p/s2048/Photo%252520Aug%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A45%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbaAX60NWznQEu-zpKLnfMiGav33G5X81a0TSeFU0jVzs0IAnvh497-RjfIz-7xusuy6ByEllqXMaSz-W9eQvfs9pTlbCc7TxC7b6NcgZLK3HBRlGHzdt9qdTdhjnyPVoPesh8XlXji0p/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A45%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346552892420.9673" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="375"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Already looking better.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGhkKLVTy4QJbCMHvorYdWeqbFSIbW791baUDgzu3e8uhSXIEPuQdV2tdJEM6EHdE7XWQ0I3dR21LkGP8MzjDLEHLsHbD3ZVogTw0hnq_h62qLfMkLoigGvP9U1_BVlJzmG3CpXejrSNv/s1478/Photo%252520Aug%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A31%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGhkKLVTy4QJbCMHvorYdWeqbFSIbW791baUDgzu3e8uhSXIEPuQdV2tdJEM6EHdE7XWQ0I3dR21LkGP8MzjDLEHLsHbD3ZVogTw0hnq_h62qLfMkLoigGvP9U1_BVlJzmG3CpXejrSNv/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A31%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346552892391.092" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div> <br/><br/>The best part of the weekend was spending quality, distraction free time with Neal. It also doesn't hurt that I really really like my brother and sister-in-law. <br/><br/>Harper didn't miss us at all, I don't think. I only snuck in one call at bedtime (totally got busted). I feel refreshed and rejuvenated. It's amazing what 24 hours of adult time can do for the soul. <br/><br/> <br/><br/><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg66dLnUAJGn7xCqGjXj05VqyNpIh_B95tHKIVVp5GfrZ5JMndesMdcyYn0QCtWN4NRdP-YwOaN07NX8rmbSFPVoSdLFgPS5LraSUTX77fYVUu4EieBxzheT7uX0VrC9ZTpMUQpFfGUccUr/s1536/Photo%252520Aug%25252026%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A00%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg66dLnUAJGn7xCqGjXj05VqyNpIh_B95tHKIVVp5GfrZ5JMndesMdcyYn0QCtWN4NRdP-YwOaN07NX8rmbSFPVoSdLFgPS5LraSUTX77fYVUu4EieBxzheT7uX0VrC9ZTpMUQpFfGUccUr/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252026%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A00%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1346552892449.349" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="667"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing the stars with Ogee=endless fun</td></tr></tbody></table> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-15164822590581718552012-08-20T18:41:00.001-07:002012-08-20T18:41:50.590-07:00Feeling Crafty For a Monday, this was a <em>very</em> productive day. Not only did I get the groceries done <em>and</em> dig up the dead flowers in the front bed, BUT I also got TWO crafts done. That's right people...TWO!<br/><br/>The <a href="http://www.theribbonretreat.com/blog/ric-rac-flower.html" target="_blank" title="">first</a><a href="http://(null)" target="_self" title=""></a> was a last minute pinterest find while I was supposed to be getting inspiration for our weekly menu (see project #2...). I've always thought that the cute bows on Etsy were way over priced, and some even seem fairly simple to make. So...a trip to the craft aisle ensued.<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; ">It took a few different attempts, but the final product was a success.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6IlC8rxwB7ivUF1Z0fCcn5yVYlrgf5RbmkQyv_dfPYJH9SBj7cVw7lTG4P0afzLnRGg9X_xfGIZgtUS2AGpRQ-tCQN40Cw-Yx7VHdnAVDA9wEj3Exuvt_g-SDvGfEyzBuZRwAdQyJc40/s2048/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A02%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6IlC8rxwB7ivUF1Z0fCcn5yVYlrgf5RbmkQyv_dfPYJH9SBj7cVw7lTG4P0afzLnRGg9X_xfGIZgtUS2AGpRQ-tCQN40Cw-Yx7VHdnAVDA9wEj3Exuvt_g-SDvGfEyzBuZRwAdQyJc40/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A02%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345512940732.288" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="336"></a></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; ">While I crafted...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWdw4qq4FCnVBq3i0-DUQAeTDOcXlYF1Xuwpy4PF8X4ZfCx7DKdd7flAzPIqR7RigzE6gm1pKXeZq9TOF1HSw_mmbM3COyvoGdDgvnGKqXTgQlHuKqh0oEmlJ0n3pe_ZJuygCd_jqjRQZ/s1375/Photo%252520Aug%25252019%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A19%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWdw4qq4FCnVBq3i0-DUQAeTDOcXlYF1Xuwpy4PF8X4ZfCx7DKdd7flAzPIqR7RigzE6gm1pKXeZq9TOF1HSw_mmbM3COyvoGdDgvnGKqXTgQlHuKqh0oEmlJ0n3pe_ZJuygCd_jqjRQZ/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252019%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A19%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345512940780.698" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div> The finished product (and a shameless shot of my adorable daughter). <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVeXJO3yLVuU5-SDcXYiz3eSOD-MwcmEgb4TIeClJCtcsgAMUji12fRJgeS-9AnNF_keeWO7HCmdlvu4Lpq8NbKk1UXGrY_U3vYLvynsZwnWNs_lBYe5h5wZgxsFzoAD4MAaSoz3Zylrm/s1375/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A47%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVeXJO3yLVuU5-SDcXYiz3eSOD-MwcmEgb4TIeClJCtcsgAMUji12fRJgeS-9AnNF_keeWO7HCmdlvu4Lpq8NbKk1UXGrY_U3vYLvynsZwnWNs_lBYe5h5wZgxsFzoAD4MAaSoz3Zylrm/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A47%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345512940712.3623" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div> The second project was inspired by said trip to the craft aisle. While I was searching for the ric rac to be used for the bows, I found a board that was the perfect size for a kitchen menu. I've been sitting on some leftover chalkboard paint from a previous project and having been trying to keep an eye out for an appropriate board. Walmart really came through for this girl today. So easy, and it does the job. <br/><br/>It took a coat of primer and several coats of paint, but the menu is up (it's a poor week to show off my menu planning skills...but you get the idea!).<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPFwMSV28zMrTgfj7DooepkUHOCO7xUJTugO0tKgQ9N00LiO7JZDRaTRvdYjQs583OEwLao8RatOHWvyqOiTngVvP-dYP9YtJBZZyhuAh5qotfNnGCkeF_CgQx6EG6COmSlA-FL0RdQFK_/s1375/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A02%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPFwMSV28zMrTgfj7DooepkUHOCO7xUJTugO0tKgQ9N00LiO7JZDRaTRvdYjQs583OEwLao8RatOHWvyqOiTngVvP-dYP9YtJBZZyhuAh5qotfNnGCkeF_CgQx6EG6COmSlA-FL0RdQFK_/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A02%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345512940711.393" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGf_OkdP_rb-pp5lhoOM3BzGGn1vNlQZWX-O8PdxyzgRljsAeiyos7u63tiISE_XuNaTOZBoSgk0S4aQRynTyNwTeYyAHw98CUOONxm33Titdyn9QXfOd-EpSDtpe3nx3HAIhg3C0TDwn/s2048/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A44%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGf_OkdP_rb-pp5lhoOM3BzGGn1vNlQZWX-O8PdxyzgRljsAeiyos7u63tiISE_XuNaTOZBoSgk0S4aQRynTyNwTeYyAHw98CUOONxm33Titdyn9QXfOd-EpSDtpe3nx3HAIhg3C0TDwn/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A44%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345512940772.3794" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div> I've got some organizing ideas up my sleeve to clear out some closet space, so hopefully this productivity streak continues. I've also got some leftover ric rac and lots of buttons so there are probably more bows to be made and some other pinterest projects ahead for me as well!<br/><br/> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-18630171838201860352012-08-16T17:32:00.001-07:002012-08-16T17:33:00.003-07:00Lead and Follow Here's what I am loving about Harper and her little friends...she's right in the middle age wise, so sometimes she leads...<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlrJpMVWwmILbvaL07td3d3ocWpkKchUwatae1UMR-497XBYPxcQ5gKCDqClKtE-mzRJbfRMeNJWIlucPvdmmtg7eIv49jkp0l32MdmTi4nUPjid3iEMEbVHm-eA-M859AbrIoCdx35Pw/s1536/Photo%252520Aug%25252016%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A15%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlrJpMVWwmILbvaL07td3d3ocWpkKchUwatae1UMR-497XBYPxcQ5gKCDqClKtE-mzRJbfRMeNJWIlucPvdmmtg7eIv49jkp0l32MdmTi4nUPjid3iEMEbVHm-eA-M859AbrIoCdx35Pw/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252016%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A15%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345163413168.5166" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div> And sometimes she follows...<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSCxLp2JW3RzIC8JuAIUv4deioOciAMwbctaFXd-jte-ZicEvEe44-6XLH0GvlSpiCsR0x3cjauDKYVuOnj0mIsUoGoqAgFBNZhxUMXV65vYcKAzK1jzSVSQZq8IhGA0XqthcayBzuKs9a/s1536/Photo%252520Aug%25252016%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A27%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSCxLp2JW3RzIC8JuAIUv4deioOciAMwbctaFXd-jte-ZicEvEe44-6XLH0GvlSpiCsR0x3cjauDKYVuOnj0mIsUoGoqAgFBNZhxUMXV65vYcKAzK1jzSVSQZq8IhGA0XqthcayBzuKs9a/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252016%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A27%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345163413183.4224" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="500"></a></div> How lucky are we that we are surrounded by sweet friends and their sweet moms who love us so well?!<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-28935970777295440522012-08-14T18:27:00.001-07:002012-08-14T18:27:12.554-07:00She Got Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: left;clear: both; ">She got me real good. And this is not the first time it's happened. She really likes my face as a chair. So far, it's all been in good fun, but so help me if I feel something fill up that diaper....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHEwYSyjRa6HCotL_7xSPCqAoDjhgPFox2vJA888Mnwv0cbcVbGq788dJSQs63fcN0JPUnkiyKIgT_TZpm8nQVsN6QDQhKoCGLoOMttdbW696ZlmGR4s-eQ0Gr2kv3Px8D9koYm0kJzVST/s478/Photo%252520Aug%25252014%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A17%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHEwYSyjRa6HCotL_7xSPCqAoDjhgPFox2vJA888Mnwv0cbcVbGq788dJSQs63fcN0JPUnkiyKIgT_TZpm8nQVsN6QDQhKoCGLoOMttdbW696ZlmGR4s-eQ0Gr2kv3Px8D9koYm0kJzVST/s478/Photo%252520Aug%25252014%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A17%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344993898952.8362" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="478" height="640"></a></div> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-18650718752367643832012-08-13T19:22:00.001-07:002012-08-13T19:22:56.171-07:00Frozen in Time Harper's getting really fast these days. Usually by the time I get the camera out, she's already making her way over to me to check out the picture herself...So when I can actually capture a moment, I can't help but be thankful for freezing time. Because it's these moments that I don't ever want to forget. <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimoBnbL3TA6iRhHySMi1KZGAEaJjRJzioQWgpLdTD8_2ILmJ7E_wwZ6cxdQyTQ82R76rX9pjJdpwrk7X0MZV29kTxPcqFRm__TqhjRb_QFSoJmicRfka26fEYAnM-LIyuvtua0UxCuOhU/s1530/Photo%252520Aug%25252012%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A44%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimoBnbL3TA6iRhHySMi1KZGAEaJjRJzioQWgpLdTD8_2ILmJ7E_wwZ6cxdQyTQ82R76rX9pjJdpwrk7X0MZV29kTxPcqFRm__TqhjRb_QFSoJmicRfka26fEYAnM-LIyuvtua0UxCuOhU/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252012%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A44%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344910947621.7468" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="669"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJaZWG-IBvWKxkd1rZ2_J-DwqwIdODF2yl6ViOyc7mM2QYWVpwgwKkVc-d9bDaV4YA7i6kxvGad8BYBo2bHfVJw_1FzTVbjeIP8RiwUJl_0nOec91txWFLGhkeCOSy3-CP-7E3woL09i7/s1527/Photo%252520Aug%2525204%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A34%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJaZWG-IBvWKxkd1rZ2_J-DwqwIdODF2yl6ViOyc7mM2QYWVpwgwKkVc-d9bDaV4YA7i6kxvGad8BYBo2bHfVJw_1FzTVbjeIP8RiwUJl_0nOec91txWFLGhkeCOSy3-CP-7E3woL09i7/s500/Photo%252520Aug%2525204%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A34%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344910947607.605" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="405"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VBkb0FBBQgraxW9iICnwMhYStydIMOZjoAuggqVVRxZfYbC3VbbcAMcgHL4zQgry3j_XYAl2ELXK975I9HZHWW4e8H2_ISO2U8s81TlFP1b4BdRIIRxyu986KCBhudPwgdIBckCDM2wr/s1375/Photo%252520Jul%25252012%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A39%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VBkb0FBBQgraxW9iICnwMhYStydIMOZjoAuggqVVRxZfYbC3VbbcAMcgHL4zQgry3j_XYAl2ELXK975I9HZHWW4e8H2_ISO2U8s81TlFP1b4BdRIIRxyu986KCBhudPwgdIBckCDM2wr/s500/Photo%252520Jul%25252012%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A39%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344910947668.912" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="745"></a></div> <br/><br/> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-51386866310344172012-08-12T08:49:00.001-07:002012-08-12T09:01:44.751-07:00ExcusesOh, hey! You're still here? That's pretty impressive. What's not impressive? My blogging the last two months. Seriously. Pitiful. Wanna here the excuses I came up with? I'm also including the possible/probable response from you, my loyal, lovely, amazing, and awesome reader (buttered up yet?)...<br/><br/>"It's been a crazy summer...so busy...so many plans." <em>Liar. It has not. You </em><em>sit around for hours while your kid naps. You've gone on one real vacation so far. Speaking of, where the heck are pictures from that trip?</em><br/><br/>"Harper is too fast these days; I can't get any good pictures..." <em>Ever heard of videos? Besides, I don't need a good picture every post, maybe just A picture...or just write for jake's sake. </em><br/><br/>"The Internet on my laptop won't work. It's so slow and frustrating." <em>Get a new computer. My goodness. You're being ridiculous, Allison. </em>(Sorry, that's Neal's response...not yours...)<br/><br/>"I got an iPad and can't figure out how to post from there." <em>Wanna know what's cool about the iPad? The Internet. You can pretty much find anything on there. Including directions/apps for blogging on the iPad. </em>(P.S. I figured this one out...I got the app Blogsy...hence this post...)<br/><br/>Sound about right? Here's my goal...write more. Post more. After talking to the most beautiful, fun, and smart friends any girl's ever had (still need some buttering?), I realized that each post doesn't have to have some meaningful writing along with it. Each post doesn't have to be littered with edited/Nikon quality pics. They'll still check the blog without it. Anything is better than nothing, right. So here are a few random pics from our summer, and I'll get working on a post from our Angel Fire trip, and other fun stuff we've done since we fell off the map.<br/><br/>Thanks for sticking around. Sorry I'm such a punk.<br><br/><br/><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQaqlgCevv-qeU1wkuddRNcVMahTmNlYV_rdtHdFKqegxPDYULoM7iRsYnI1zg1_BiphzGTQjvvpMifGxYDr9ACVncIJEu5zhOKgwb9UkD1gNMUvHY0S0idwR2NS769SsRkADxgR6ZKga-/s500/Photo%252520Jul%25252030%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A51%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344787228885.045" class="aligncenter" width="500" height="669" alt=""></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She likes to play dress up. </td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She likes to play dress up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGcA1bzkeF7GcpOe_ql0KkvLetjGB7b4vrWL5A7apVmnhgwgbfGr82VbQs2lszYANmex2F3LuTl4ZYsjKCFej3f-2GbD7DoZzGEcM6OQVvwTahR4-PYVJLZh8qK87hdaXeoFL3D_4vaHI/s1536/Photo%252520Aug%2525204%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A31%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGcA1bzkeF7GcpOe_ql0KkvLetjGB7b4vrWL5A7apVmnhgwgbfGr82VbQs2lszYANmex2F3LuTl4ZYsjKCFej3f-2GbD7DoZzGEcM6OQVvwTahR4-PYVJLZh8qK87hdaXeoFL3D_4vaHI/s500/Photo%252520Aug%2525204%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A31%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344787228917.0547" class="aligncenter" width="500" height="667" alt=""></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A lot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9MFgHBqfxow-WntRO_xSoKOcVy4Jt0lV5qE-fOF0CmGtb9kyiqJbSuz-3LH-0Kamu4ntWEg8_BzwhqbKM-3t_yS1UjMlmHEZt0Mq17vtAYVhMI2P3XSzv9NPt_2nu4FAqRrpAuX-tSAQ/s1536/Photo%252520Aug%2525202%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A24%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9MFgHBqfxow-WntRO_xSoKOcVy4Jt0lV5qE-fOF0CmGtb9kyiqJbSuz-3LH-0Kamu4ntWEg8_BzwhqbKM-3t_yS1UjMlmHEZt0Mq17vtAYVhMI2P3XSzv9NPt_2nu4FAqRrpAuX-tSAQ/s500/Photo%252520Aug%2525202%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A24%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344787228925.446" class="aligncenter" width="500" height="667" alt=""></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Getting in a post swim dinner. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBYjHQ-UXyqyHHBahsIaaH_9aM9NFUmU6judQEbcyq6_nMoDmoqJkLwy3mHWbSLsGILsn1dvk_nsPJ9WQBpj0cRvLpCTj_m5vAevSKfhxS4N59hJNakaYl3ewJ0sb5B_q4B_qD4MxVSx0/s1536/Photo%252520Jul%25252029%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A40%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBYjHQ-UXyqyHHBahsIaaH_9aM9NFUmU6judQEbcyq6_nMoDmoqJkLwy3mHWbSLsGILsn1dvk_nsPJ9WQBpj0cRvLpCTj_m5vAevSKfhxS4N59hJNakaYl3ewJ0sb5B_q4B_qD4MxVSx0/s500/Photo%252520Jul%25252029%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A40%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344787228882.9956" class="aligncenter" width="500" height="500" alt=""></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She's learned how to climb. Awesome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5d1lB0kj5UQq2PiV5UlWqBVEMcdrOQYgb6VR7kpRzVGY84eFKzkwkTu0WFJ8vvtgykOv_-ycYxiHoZK5kBI2oChqUlK5u3BZeznqf6T0m_0MtJlnQtuaFGd4_eWga5xP3rnpTzJtqyzgs/s1536/Photo%252520Jul%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525205%25253A26%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5d1lB0kj5UQq2PiV5UlWqBVEMcdrOQYgb6VR7kpRzVGY84eFKzkwkTu0WFJ8vvtgykOv_-ycYxiHoZK5kBI2oChqUlK5u3BZeznqf6T0m_0MtJlnQtuaFGd4_eWga5xP3rnpTzJtqyzgs/s500/Photo%252520Jul%25252027%25252C%2525202012%2525205%25253A26%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344787228914.58" class="aligncenter" width="500" height="667" alt=""></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She likes the water. She also<em> really </em>likes Momma right now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7jeqkw5S99ddnjudVJ7ITYf_oWQ1PHQ0OyaKYu3uXvW5_kr_ahtO4nydqi4aStWCw-QqkbynnKOagg7HMSdzwtoNPjfBvXqujH2EC_irxHOe01R2y9Dm5DOeSoTkBJG0sToPE9OFqx0oV/s1188/Photo%252520Jul%25252012%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A47%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7jeqkw5S99ddnjudVJ7ITYf_oWQ1PHQ0OyaKYu3uXvW5_kr_ahtO4nydqi4aStWCw-QqkbynnKOagg7HMSdzwtoNPjfBvXqujH2EC_irxHOe01R2y9Dm5DOeSoTkBJG0sToPE9OFqx0oV/s500/Photo%252520Jul%25252012%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A47%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344787228920.4966" class="aligncenter" width="500" height="500" alt=""></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cheering on Daddy's kickball team. It was hot and humid...look at the curls.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwyH3UEDLwjgey2rQmcqDbNzuSmNguPvDfVuo45hMypdQ713_WrfD-sSDIruSoTZA3T9yEbAWFPxpQez3ICG4kn-VuHDt2whaJxX_AHpTQwaVrSPcm3z_a9U68BUjliJS8ICnx0a0pnGiH/s1536/Photo%252520Jul%2525201%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A47%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwyH3UEDLwjgey2rQmcqDbNzuSmNguPvDfVuo45hMypdQ713_WrfD-sSDIruSoTZA3T9yEbAWFPxpQez3ICG4kn-VuHDt2whaJxX_AHpTQwaVrSPcm3z_a9U68BUjliJS8ICnx0a0pnGiH/s500/Photo%252520Jul%2525201%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A47%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1344787228983.7" class="aligncenter" width="500" height="667" alt=""></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Goofing around with Daddy. I love these two. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> </p><p style="text-align: center;">And for good measure, a video to make your heart happy. (Edited: Still figuring out Blogsy...I don't know why it posted this video like 10 times, the bubbles are all the same...)</p><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="305" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xIGX5ZLN3DU" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="500"></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="305" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xIGX5ZLN3DU" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="500"></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="305" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xIGX5ZLN3DU" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="500"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="305" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/D_PzktP8Clo" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="500"></iframe></div><p style="text-align: center;"> </p><p style="text-align: center;"> </p> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-55541707827208601042012-06-14T19:06:00.001-07:002012-06-14T19:06:44.903-07:00A First Birthday Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Harper's birthday was Saturday, and it could not have been a better day for a first birthday party! It was important to Neal and me to keep this party simple, more about Harper's first year and less about us as seems to be the status quo these days. However, I had a few small projects in mind to make the day special for our little birthday girl. Thank goodness for Pinterest, am I right, people?!</div>
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Here is Nonnie and Daddy helping Harper get ready for her guests to arrive!</div>
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Crazy Harper!<br />
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Harper was a trooper while we opened gifts. It's hard to keep a one year old interested in opening presents. But she got lots of great stuff.<br />
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Y'all, Harper is the luckiest girl ever. See this bear...yeah, her Nonnie <i>made that. </i>Straight up hand made Bobby the Bear!! <br />
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This is Harper's new look these days. It's hysterical, because she knows what she's doing; right after this look comes a big laugh, like "Fooled you, not really mad!"<br />
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Cake Time! Yellow Cupcakes with Milk Chocolate frosting. Mmmmm...Harper was a big fan.<br />
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All done!!<br />
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Here's a little video of the birthday girl. </div>
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It was a great party and a special weekend with lots of family (more on that later...). I can't believe that a year has already gone by, but I'm excited about all of the new stuff ahead in year two!AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-31640549235918865262012-06-09T19:49:00.000-07:002012-06-09T19:49:02.227-07:00Harper's First YearI've been busy today loving on my sweet birthday girl. I'll have a post with pics from her first birthday later, but for now here's a recap of the best year of my life.<br />
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<br />AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-54797013451209107542012-05-28T08:51:00.001-07:002012-05-28T08:51:38.673-07:00Kisses for Granny Laurie<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s been twenty-three years since my mom passed away. I miss her on special occasions and anniversaries, etc., but I was only four when she died. I’ve spent 86% of my life without her, so the normal day passes usually without much thought of how much I miss her. Don’t get me wrong, I have her picture everywhere and I think of her everyday, but I don’t<i> miss her</i> on a daily basis, if that makes sense. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">However, when I found out I was pregnant with Harper, for the first time in many many years, I missed my mom every single day. I wanted to share every part of this experience with her. I was her baby having a baby. I wanted to tell her about the first time I felt Harper kick; ask her questions about each of her pregnancies; I wanted to go shopping with her for my baby girl. For the first time in a long time, I thought about how jealous I was of those other women out with their moms...shopping, laughing, giddy with excitement for this new blessing about to enter the world. There were days when I would cry, longing for my mom (I’d blame it on the hormones, but I think it was just plain sadness). </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's me in that belly...</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Harper will never meet her Granny Laurie, so I can’t explain how important it is to me that she <i>knows</i> her Granny Laurie. I want her to know how kind she was; what her laugh sounded like; I want her to know how hard she fought to beat the cancer, and when she knew she wouldn’t, that her faith in God was stronger. I want her to know how much she loved her babies, and how much she would have <i>loved</i> watching Harper grow up. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The only way I know these things, honestly, is not because I remember her, but because my family has done such an incredible job showing me who my mom was, helping me get to know the woman who was my mom. I only have a couple of personal memories of my mom; she got sick when I was only two. Most of the stories I have about her are someone else’s memories. But I’ll take whatever I can get. And I’ll share them all with Harper, because I want her to know this woman who was her grandmother.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>**For the record, Harper does not hand out kisses. I've gotten kisses maybe twice. But she finds and gives this picture of my mom kisses every. single. time. It gets me every time. </i></span></span></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-7269391593335172832012-05-20T21:31:00.003-07:002012-05-20T21:31:45.684-07:00The Prewett Family<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I am completely consumed by thoughts and prayers for my best friend and her brand new baby, sweet Adeline Camille. After another update from her sister tonight, I lost it. I love this family so much. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stole this pic from Mille's facebook...courtesy of Julie May, I think...</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Camille and I became friends at Tech because our college boyfriends were roommates. She grew up in Spearman, another small Texas town no one has heard of, and because of that I felt a little bit closer to home every time we hung out. The boys didn’t last long, but our friendship sure has. After she graduated from Texas Tech and I had had enough of Raiderland, we moved to Austin together to begin a new adventure. She, a recent college graduate embarking on the real world; me, a transfer student trying to find the part of myself that got lost during my two years at Tech. Some challenging times were ahead for both of us and our friendship, but you don’t let the people who mean the most to you out of your life for long. Camille moved to Dallas, and I followed not long after. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Camille, you look exactly like Cayla here...</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We both met our men, got married, and started families. I was there the day that Ellie Claire was born. I waited with her parents and her sisters, convinced I could be a Smith if they’d let me, until Scott finally came out and announced Sweet E’s arrival. Camille, Scott, and Ellie were all there in the hallway when they wheeled Harper out of my room, just minutes after she was born. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Ellie Claire has been such a special part of our life. Without even knowing it, watching her and holding her helped prepare me for the most important job of my life. When my aunt Mary was sick and I was getting updates about her declining health, I’d call Camille and beg to come hold Ellie, she was a drug free anti-depressant. Just smelling and snuggling her made everything better. I have absolutely loved getting to watch Ellie and Harper become sweet friends over the last few months. One of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard was when I first heard Ellie say Harper’s name. It came out closer to “Hoppa”, and it melted my heart. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Wildest morning hair EVER!! Love that girl!</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">When Camille and Scott announced they were pregnant with another sweet baby, and that baby was going to be a girl, I was so excited because I knew Harper would sit right in between these Prewett girls and would always have them both to play with, to lead and to follow. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">But with the news of Adeline’s heart condition came so much unknown. Everything was different. I didn’t know how to be excited and cautious, scared and upbeat for my best friend who just got the worst news of her life. I never knew if what I was saying in an effort to comfort Camille really made things worse. Wednesday, when Addie was born, Harper had a fever. I couldn’t be there to sit and wait with the family. I couldn’t be there to see them wheel her out of Camille’s room. Camille has done so much for me as a new mom; she’s introduced me to other moms, she’s invited me to more playdates than I can count, she’s answered my desperate calls for tips and tricks, and she’s taught me so much in her little time as an “expert” I’m not sure I could have made it through this last year without her. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">But now she’s going through something that no one we know can relate to. She’s being thrown into the dark deep end of some very murky water, and all anyone can do is sit back and watch as they fight their way to the top. We don’t know how to help, we don’t know how to take this pain away. There’s a difficult balance between being helpful and being overwhelming. They have so much new information to take in, so many doctors and nurses to talk to, family and friends who call/text for updates. Should you add one more text and let them know you’re thinking about them or leave them alone so they can spend any quiet time they do have loving that sweet baby girl? It’s a conundrum, but we’re all so desperate to help, to have them know we love them, that we can’t stop thinking about them. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Tomorrow Adeline goes in for her first surgery. You can read more about the daunting day ahead of them <a href="http://camilleprewett.blogspot.com/">here</a>. It’s going to be a long, hard day for everyone involved. If you can spare a prayer or two or ten, send them their way. I know their story is reaching people they don’t even know, in cities states away; I’m hoping that they are bombarded with a loving comfort sent from all corners of this great network that they have surrounding them. </span></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-4202625733837693582012-05-16T10:40:00.001-07:002012-05-16T10:40:26.277-07:00Sweet Adeline<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Okay, I'm sending out an ALL CALL for prayers/positive vibes/spirit dances...whatever you do to conjure up and send love across to the ones who need it the most...<a href="http://www.camilleprewett.blogspot.com/">Sweet Adeline</a> is on her way. My best friend Camille and her husband Scott are welcoming their second baby girl today. Scott and Camille were told around 16 weeks that Adeline Camille had a complex heart defect that would require several surgeries and long hospital stays starting right after delivery. You can read more about their journey through this incredibly difficult diagnosis and pregnancy <a href="http://camilleprewett.blogspot.com/">here</a>. Their faith in the Lord is awe inspiring, but they know they have a difficult road ahead. They need your prayers, today and in the weeks to come.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiesJDe1-vHP4Y935nrLDzm5ysxVDik1Eliw0-KpuB0pxjSRW7RQZReKNaMmNw1BUzJhn7vyPde_4qjcOf5Q4Rj29qzVkbhzoectAfQPPslooKbe2pgPwXxoQTj3_TpJR9aSnBXHUmZWDIV/s1600/564476_273885916028991_100002227555689_620284_1877220974_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiesJDe1-vHP4Y935nrLDzm5ysxVDik1Eliw0-KpuB0pxjSRW7RQZReKNaMmNw1BUzJhn7vyPde_4qjcOf5Q4Rj29qzVkbhzoectAfQPPslooKbe2pgPwXxoQTj3_TpJR9aSnBXHUmZWDIV/s320/564476_273885916028991_100002227555689_620284_1877220974_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Camille Prewett</td></tr>
</tbody></table>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-71574729166965750912012-05-13T20:14:00.000-07:002012-05-13T20:14:31.281-07:00A Mother's Day Post<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">To the One Who Made Me a Momma,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I cannot tell you how much joy you have brought me over the last eleven months. When I was anticipating your arrival, I knew that I would love you. But this much? I had no idea. I had no idea that the first touch of your skin to mine would bond us for life. I had no idea that the first time I held you you would fit perfectly in my arms, like you belonged there all along. I had no idea that the first smile you flashed us would melt my heart; that the simple act of you holding my hand, or resting your head on my shoulder, would be enough to bring tears to my eyes. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I could never have known how much your sweet spirit would light up my life; that your tears would be the hardest part of my day; or that your joy in each new discovery would be so contagious. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I am a better person because of you. You make me happier and healthier, stronger and wiser, a better friend and wife. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The day you made me a momma was the greatest day of my life. On this, my first Mother’s Day, I want you to know that you are forever loved. You are the light of my life, and I am blessed to be your mother. Not a day goes by that I do not thank God for making you my daughter, for giving me such a precious gift, for the opportunity to show you unconditional love. I love you more than everything on this Earth combined (well, you and your daddy). I can not wait to watch you grow up and to be the mom you need me to be. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I love you, sweet daughter of mine.</span></div>
<br />AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-25670841343565797252012-05-12T05:57:00.000-07:002012-05-12T05:57:59.004-07:0011 Months!Holy smokes!! As I was getting Harper ready for her "photo shoot" this morning, I took out her monthly sticker and realized I only HAVE ONE STICKER LEFT! Where did the time go?! When I was pregnant or when Harper was a newborn, I was slightly annoyed by <i>how many</i> times I heard, "Enjoy this time, it goes by so fast." But DAMN!!! It goes by SO. FAST.<br />
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And I gotta say, these photo shoots are getting harder and harder. My girl just does not sit still. I mean seriously...<br />
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This has been such a fun month! Harper is slowly but surely a walker. It started out with just a few steps at a time, and never when we wanted her to. If we stood her up and tried to get her to walk to us, she'd plop down and crawl. But when she was distracted with three things in her hands and another thing she wanted across the room, then she'd walk. It was a lot like the crawling process (of course it would be), where she knew <i>how</i> to walk, but she also knew crawling was faster. But I think it's safe to say at this point, we have a <i>toddler</i> in our house. What?!<br />
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Anyway, Harper has been a busy little bee this month. We've both really added to our social calendar and have had so much fun playing with other babes and mommas! We went to the zoo, had weekly playdates with friends, played at the playground with friends...just gotten out of the house! It's so nice to have something to do every day that gets us out and interacting with other people.<br />
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I have a feeling we're going to have some trouble with all these boyfriends Harper's got!<br />
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The weather here is slowly getting hotter, so we're taking in all the sun while we can stand it.<br />
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I have loved watching my girl grow this month, even though with each new milestone she's becoming less of a baby. I can't believe next month my baby will be ONE!! </div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-36778822764534662902012-05-06T10:38:00.001-07:002012-05-06T10:38:15.662-07:00For My Sister<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Rarely does a day go by that I don’t talk to my sister. She’s my very best friend but lives exactly 1,377 miles away from me door to door, so our phones have a pretty big job in bridging those miles. Nowadays, we talk during naptimes or after the littles have gone to sleep for the night, or when we’re in the car and have a quiet moment. Somedays we have “Skinny-marink-a-dink-a-dink” days where we call just to say hi, “<i>in the morning and in the afternoon. I love you in the evening, and underneath the moon.” </i>If you were to look at our phone bills, most likely you’d see one or two Neal Dickson or Bruce and Becky Home to every seven or eight Sarah Hunts. But only because she’s my sister, and because we're home all day with babies and not much else. Besides, if you’ve ever had a sister, you know it’s not a favorites thing, it’s a necessity. An “I-gotta-call-my-sister” thing “and-tell-her-all-about/cry-about/laugh-about/bitch-about-something-because-no-one-else-in-the-world-will-listen-cry-laugh-or-bitch-like-she-will” kind of thing. Again, it’s a <i>necessity</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sisters make everything better. She’s four (okay, she’ll say not four, but I’m rounding up here, people) years older than me, and she’s my hero. We’ve never really fought like other sisters I know. Sure, I’d steal and ruin a shirt of hers, or rob her giant yellow crayon of all the quarters it held so I could go to the drugstore, or she’d spy on me while I was playing pretend radio dj and jump out and start making fun of me...but we never stayed mad at each other longer than a good scream in a pillow lasted. It’s probably because of our non-confrontational personalities; or if you asked some shrink, they’d say it’s because we lost our parents at such a young age, and had to grow up so young, that the petty normal teenage girl stuff didn’t get to us like it got to other sisters. Something like that. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But Sarah has always been the older, wiser sister that I called for advice or rushed to for a hug. She’s always taken care of me the best she could. She taught me how to drive a car and how to put on makeup (granted, we both failed at this, but she tried is the point). She was my mom when I didn’t have one. But the thing that I never considered, being the youngest, was that she didn’t have a mom either. And it wasn’t until just a few years ago that I learned that after Dad died, she counted all the money in her bank account, considered foregoing college, and was ready to do whatever she had to to be my legal guardian. Luckily this consideration was brief thanks to the McNeills who stepped up so she didn’t have to, and they played the role of our loving guardians beautifully. To them we are both eternally grateful. But the point is, Sarah was ready if I needed her to be. She would have sacrificed everything to be the mom I needed. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">She was with me the day I became a mom, the day my life changed forever. I watched her stare into my daughter’s eyes with tears streaming from her own. I was, and still am, desperate to know what she was thinking those first few hours of Harper’s life. In my heart, I know it was pride and joy streaming from those tears after witnessing the birth of the first “Atchley” baby. But I also think there was grief, knowing that our mom and dad weren’t there to witness it too. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’ll never forget in May of ’95, after Sarah left with her 8th grade grad date, all dressed up thanks to Mary Beth Young, Dad ran from the living room and buried his head in the couch pillow, and cried. “<i>I just wish your mom were here to see her.” </i>I think Sarah’s tears were a little bit of that too when Harper was born. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So when it was finally Sarah’s turn to become a mom for real, you can imagine the excitement, anxiety, sadness, and love that I felt flying to San Diego to meet sweet Donevan Marcus. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sarah was meant to be a mom. She was such a natural from the moment she held her first born son. She was a nursing machine from the get go, walking around, no Boppy necessary within the first 3 days. She had just the right amount of calm and fear, a difficult dance for most new moms. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I spent a week there, watching her, trying to help where I could, mostly trying to keep Harper out of her way. But I wanted to be for her what she was for me after Harper was born: an outlet, someone to show my crazy to, someone to cry to when the post pregnancy hormones and sheer exhaustion got the best of me, someone to help me shower and shave my legs after a long <i>birth </i>day. She was all of those things and more for me; she was my sister, mom, doula, and best friend...it was important to me to be those things for her. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I didn’t really accomplish all of what I wanted to do while I was there, what with also trying to be a mom to my own 9 month old, but for the first time I was able to help her in a way that I hadn’t been able to before. I had done this thing, this new mom dance. I had something she didn’t have, a tiny bit of experience. After all the late night phone calls and advice over boys, college, finances, life, where she got to use her experience to counsel me, it was finally my turn to answer the call. I had tips and tricks to share, a tiny bit of wisdom. But most importantly during those desperate phone calls that all new moms make, it is my job, no my privilege, to tell her that she’s doing an amazing job, that I’m so proud of her, that her son is the luckiest boy in the world to have her as a mom. I should know. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have her as my sister.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Happy Birthday, Sarah (okay, day after, I got distracted). I am the person I am today because I had you as a sister, to guide me, love me, and support me. <i>You are an amazing friend, wife, and now mother. I am so proud of you, and I wish Mom and Dad were here to see you in action. I love you.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929115225839410296.post-777320646085416622012-05-01T08:21:00.002-07:002012-05-01T08:21:28.096-07:00The Zoo!This post is going to be picture heavy...We went to the Dallas Zoo last week with the Corders, and Harper loved it. She fed the giraffes (made me think of Granne), stood over the lions, got attacked by birds (no biggie), and rode her first carousel.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNUnNPOnMSNoOGarhCu7ZWzYDn4JHJitoI8R41YA-8tJ0h99eH3LdpmpBR6FD_xyTDvRj3lbsrue3qssfP-quQz-jomLv-wtTfjSj6xOzxOkaE6J3bmXstk4QC1i8Xzh3Q0FhWPGqUMtR/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNUnNPOnMSNoOGarhCu7ZWzYDn4JHJitoI8R41YA-8tJ0h99eH3LdpmpBR6FD_xyTDvRj3lbsrue3qssfP-quQz-jomLv-wtTfjSj6xOzxOkaE6J3bmXstk4QC1i8Xzh3Q0FhWPGqUMtR/s320/IMG_1636.JPG" width="238" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG64r87HGqGPTYCtldtcfNTkffypJKrgztNgIiCWCyubAhrOqQ32UsHEKKbRbLip4fgH9PzbZegYTq5APn0-a17Pf00r1hvsjQewe3s9czMnLNc-P9rlaq27Q5DlutWP2sclRP1_hyphenhyphenFnTH/s1600/IMG_1635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG64r87HGqGPTYCtldtcfNTkffypJKrgztNgIiCWCyubAhrOqQ32UsHEKKbRbLip4fgH9PzbZegYTq5APn0-a17Pf00r1hvsjQewe3s9czMnLNc-P9rlaq27Q5DlutWP2sclRP1_hyphenhyphenFnTH/s320/IMG_1635.JPG" width="238" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zMCTnttTeIfbDtBSc2vrfLngg20LaMTFqoiPTwL0kUWokwiW5jTqc7Kzq0oGBfJJJagh7I7W35yKYMwUDVlrfiKtvPS5CDMRz3xCuf16wU6rXHfZHh_UcrpgiHh4eDDAum88bkLNyHpz/s1600/IMG_1643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zMCTnttTeIfbDtBSc2vrfLngg20LaMTFqoiPTwL0kUWokwiW5jTqc7Kzq0oGBfJJJagh7I7W35yKYMwUDVlrfiKtvPS5CDMRz3xCuf16wU6rXHfZHh_UcrpgiHh4eDDAum88bkLNyHpz/s400/IMG_1643.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not. Cool. I had no idea what I was getting myself (or my baby) into. I'm pretty sure I had three birds on my arm at this point too...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preston and Laura on the "dead elephants". Preston couldn't quite grasp the concept of the statue...he just knew these guys weren't moving.</td></tr>
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This was about three hours past her naptime...Clearly she does not care.<br />
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We may be in trouble here...<br />
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Gotta say, we were impressed with the Dallas Zoo. And I hear the Fort Worth zoo is even better. We'll experiment and get back to you...AllisonDicksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15733321937418573681noreply@blogger.com1