tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83475076550524079382024-02-19T23:34:56.310+13:00My Name is HavalahH... A... V... A... L... A... H.Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.comBlogger140125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-70042854483855083612014-06-07T17:53:00.002+12:002014-06-07T17:53:30.498+12:00Ezra's Birth Story<div class="MsoNormal">
I wasn’t expecting to go into labor early, or even by my due
date, so when my EDD (March 21) came and went, I really didn’t think much of
it. Susie (oldest sister) was going to Doula for me, and we had taken the
gamble that I would go late, so she was flying in the following Tuesday, about
four days past my due date. Until then, I was under strict instructions to not
do anything to try to induce labor. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Tuesday came, and I was convinced that it wouldn’t take much
to send me into labor. Susie was due in at 4pm, so that morning I started
pumping in hopes that contractions would start. I was having a couple little
contractions, but nothing big or even painful. We picked Susie and Cora up, and
began an evening of trying to induce labor naturally. We headed to bed sure
that something would start soon. The next morning, I was in so much pain from
walking the night before (sciatica issues through third trimester), that we
made an appointment to go see the midwife and hopefully have my membranes
stripped. I was just tired and ready to get moving. I was at 2cm and 80%
effacement, and one of the midwives Diane, stripped my membranes. I had a
standing appointment for Friday (41 weeks) and Diane said she was sure I
wouldn’t make it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We were super excited and sure that labor was on its way, so
headed home to get some rest. I pumped, bounced, squatted. All the things that
are supposed to help labor start. Another night came and went. Thursday was
much of the same. Dahvede stayed home to be close; we took Cora to the park,
and did more of the same from the previous two days. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Friday morning I woke up very frustrated. I had really not
wanted to still be pregnant by that point. Dahvede and I loaded up and headed
in for the ultrasound and appointment. He was still head down and looking good,
so we went in to see the midwife. We were just relieved to not be headed in for
an induction. The midwife I saw (Mina this time) checked me. I was at “a
generous 3” and still 80%. Again, they stripped my membranes. We headed for
home again, with an appointment for Monday morning, but once again assured by
the midwife that I wouldn’t be using it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was tired. Frustrated. Over it. We went home so I could
take a nap and rest up, and planned to take Cora to the splash pad a bit later
in the afternoon. I noticed that I had a lot of discharge, and ended up putting
a pad on. I mentioned it to Susie, but she said it was normal for the end of
pregnancy, so I didn’t think much of it. I went to get changed to take Cora
out, and noticed the pad was full. Again, I wasn’t very concerned, so I just
decided to put a new one on. I was upstairs, and the pads were downstairs, so I
carried on getting dressed, and went down to meet everyone. As I got
downstairs, Susie awkwardly told me that I had wet through my pants. Sure
enough there was a 6” wet patch on my pants. We carried on, took care of it,
and headed to the car. We were in the car about to leave when Susie and I were
chatting a bit and she realized I had already filled a pad. She ran upstairs to
where I had changed and found the pad (mom of 4… nothing phases her anymore).
Sure enough, when she came back, she told me that I was leaking amniotic fluid.
From what we could gather, the midwife must have nicked my bag of waters, and I
had a slow leak. I still wasn’t really having contractions, so we grabbed a
towel to put underneath me, and carried on to the splash pad. I called the
midwife on call (Diane, from the first appointment), and left a message. I knew
from previous conversations that they would allow me 24 hours to go into labor
naturally. Diane called back about an hour later and confirmed what I had
already expected. She said she expected to see me before the 24 hours were up,
but if I hadn’t gone into labor by about 10am the following day, to give her a
call. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
We headed home before long and once again… pulled out the
pump, and the yoga ball. I squatted, and bounced, and pumped. Lather, rinse,
repeat. My father-in-law flew in that night from Saudi Arabia for a QUICK
weekend trip between conferences. I still felt good, so he came by with his mom
for a visit. We stayed up until about 11pm trying to get something happening
but still nothing. I went to bed devastated. I felt like my body was failing
me. I felt like I was headed down a slippery slope of interventions that I very
much did not want. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Saturday morning we were up early, and decided to try to
just relax and go out for breakfast. I remember sitting at breakfast choking
back tears. I was so frustrated and exhausted. I cried and cried. Finally,
around 10:30, Susie called Diane for me. I was so upset I didn’t want to get on
the phone. She said to head to the hospital within the next few hours (best
midwife ever), to get checked out. So we finalized our packing, and headed out.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We got through registration quickly and they checked in
triage to make sure my water had really broken. It had, so they started the
admission process. Once I was settled in my room, Diane came in and checked me.
I hadn’t progressed since the previous day. I was frustrated, but feeling
excited to at least be at the hospital and getting my baby soon, so I carried
on. She then attempted to “re-break” my water. From what we could guess there
must have been a fore-bag of waters. We never truly got that gush of water we
were waiting for, but she said she thought she got it, so we started walking
the halls. They were checking the baby’s heart rate every 30 minutes with a
Doppler, but it was supposed to be through a contraction, which I still
couldn’t feel, so we just guessed. After an hour or two, Diane came back and
suggested we order cervadil to help me dilate. I knew we had to do something
(it had already been 30+ hours of my water being broken. She said as she was
putting it in, that it kept “trying to come back out.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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I had to be on the monitors full time at that point, so I
snuggled into bed and visited with Susie and Dahvede. At some point, Thomas
(father-in-law) and Mary (Dahvede’s Grandma) came by to visit. I was still not
really noticing contractions. After they left, we put on a movie and started to
doze. I was beginning to notice contractions, but they weren’t overly painful,
so I was dozing between them. I got up to go to the bathroom, and I discovered
that the cervadil was falling out. My nurse told Diane, who then ordered another
one and re-inserted it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Wow. It did its job. It got put in VERY well, and
contractions suddenly were strong and painful. I think that was around 11pm. I
remember wondering how I thought I could sleep through them. At that point, I
had to focus. I had taken classes and read and read and read, but now it was
real. I figured out that I was “vocal” to put it nicely. I would basically
critique Dahvede and Susie between contractions. “Say this.” “Do NOT say that.”
“Don’t shush me.” “Stop telling me to put my head back.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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The furthest thing from my plan was being induced and
staying in bed, yet that was where I found myself, and that was where I was
comfortable. I felt warm, and safe, so I stayed there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Around 2 or 3 (it was very hazy), I was reaching the end of
my patience for the bed. Contractions hurt, and I was tired. It was time for
the tub. I was so excited. Unfortunately the hose for the tub was practically
trickling, so by the time it was filled and ready (and in all honesty, I got in
when it was still only about half full), it had been an roughly an hour. Oh,
but the tub. It felt amazing. The warm water let my muscles finally relax
between contractions, and I could rest a little bit. Dahvede got in with me and
just held me. Things carried on that way for a while, but I eventually got
restless, so Diane suggested I get on my knees and lean over the edge. Dahvede
sat behind me, and Susie held my hands. I was so exhausted that I went into a
trance like state between contractions. I have little to no memory between the
pain. I remember moments of exhaustion and pain. Whispering cries to my sister
that it hurt and I honestly didn’t know I could do it. She did the best thing
she could have done. She let me say it. She asked me if I wanted something. I
remember thinking I that I wanted the pain to stop, but I didn’t want the
drugs. She agreed to count to five (our childbirth educator suggested “buying
five contractions”). She said she stopped counting around 15, because I had
forgotten. I wasn’t ready to give in to the pain. I believed that my body had
been made to do this. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
At some point, Dahvede came out of the tub and took over for
Susie. I don’t how long it was after that, but I guess the baby started moving
down, causing my sciatica pain to flare. Susie was dozing in the corner when
she said she woke up to me shrieking. I was handling the pain, but I couldn’t
get away from the sciatica. She was my rock star in that moment. In her maxi
skirt and everything, she climbed into the tub with me, and stuck the palm of her
hand into my backside to help me with the pain. Everything still hurt, but it
took the shooting pain away, allowing me to just concentrate on contractions
again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Before long (at least it seemed that way to me), I started
feeling “different” at the end of contractions. I hoped against hope that my
body was getting ready to push.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
spent. Every inch of me hurt, and I was reaching the end of my rope. It was
around 5am at this point. I said I thought I might feel pushy, to which Diane responded,
“You’ll know when you have to push.” I didn’t know what it would feel like, so
I carried on through another few contractions before saying I thought I was
feeling the urge to push. Diane agreed to check me, and in my mind, I decided
that if I wasn’t close, I needed something to help me with the pain. I just
couldn’t do it anymore.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I was ecstatic when she reported I was 9.5cm. I later
discovered that at 2am when she removed the cervadil, I was only at 4.5cm. In
just 3 hours of labor, I had dilated 5cm and I was given permission to push
when I felt like it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I tried to push in the tub for a few minutes, but I knew I
wasn’t allowed to birth in the tub, and was having a hard time engaging there,
so we opted to get me onto the bed to push. After trying a few things, I
settled on sitting on the edge of the bed, bracing my feet on the squat bar,
and holding on to the bed handles. Susie helped coach me, and we started
pushing. I had great hopes that I would inherit my sisters pushing luck (never
more than 20 min of pushing), but it was quickly evident that no such thing was
happening. Diane told me to stop checking the clock after every push. So we
carried on. It hurt, but it felt good to do something about the pain finally. I
was so tired though. I remember wishing that this were like a team relay and I
could tag the next team member. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Dahvede, Diane and Susie cheered me on. They coached me
through pushes and counted down for me. Finally I heard the most amazing words.
“We can see his head!” A few more pushes and I was able to reach down and touch
his wrinkly little head. That was it for me. He was SO close. Another few
pushes and his head was out. I desperately asked when I could push again and
they said whenever I felt another contraction. I didn’t know if I was having
one or not, but I said I was finally, amazingly, pushed my little boy into the
world. Dahvede caught our precious little son and placed him immediately on my
chest. I will never forget how warm and squishy and wonderful he felt. I couldn’t
believe he was here. I had done it! He was perfect. He was mine. I just kept
saying over and over and over “You’re mine. You’re my baby. Hi baby.” Dahvede
wept. Susie wept. I surprisingly didn’t. I had cried myself out the week
leading up. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Ezra Michael was born at 6:50am, March 30, 2014, after 40
hours of labor and an hour of pushing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-56483504353620531122013-01-01T09:32:00.001+13:002013-01-01T09:32:58.143+13:00NumbersI'm not really one for posting number online. At least not when it comes to weight loss. Everyone has different ideas of what is healthy, how much you should be losing and how quickly. I never posted a starting weight, because frankly... I don't want to. <br />
<br />
I will however, post these numbers.<br />
<br />
70: # of pounds I was overweight<br />
<br />
35: # of pounds I've lost this year<br />
<br />
35: # of pounds I have left to lose.<br />
<br />
50: % there!Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-80537348620828282582012-11-24T07:12:00.001+13:002012-11-24T07:12:57.006+13:00Holiday MotivationIt's easy to fall off the wagon around the holidays.<br />
<br />
It would easy for me to say I'm going to enjoy all the yummy foods of the holidays and I'll get back on the wagon January 1. <br />
<br />
I'm not taking that aproach this year. My Dad has recently made some HUGE life changes for his health, and doesn't get a break from them. So neither do I. I have a goal for Christmas, and I'm about 12lbs away from that goal. I think it's definitely possible to do, but I have to be motivated and strict. So I'm starting a two week challenge. <br />
<br />
I'm doing a program I found (through Pinterest) on Prevention Magazine's website. I'm excited to start something new, and challenge myself. I'm posting this as my encouragement and motivation. No quitting. No giving up. No wimping out. Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-61091675061118808312012-10-30T08:34:00.002+13:002012-10-30T08:34:40.673+13:00Progress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Time for another update!!! As a reminder.... this was me in April...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMb5-mZ7c1i_-ZYtQ2x-dlUsskKgv7qCGlkQOvBqCVVUBOHLQBqR_i_7qDtyLqVF2-Zknu1ovpJ-mKKpv05ATXQg5JIvSOO21LPn0oA7R-rs4WWuXYdy17vuSYugSv46bzUZXyGiRG7A4/s1600/april.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMb5-mZ7c1i_-ZYtQ2x-dlUsskKgv7qCGlkQOvBqCVVUBOHLQBqR_i_7qDtyLqVF2-Zknu1ovpJ-mKKpv05ATXQg5JIvSOO21LPn0oA7R-rs4WWuXYdy17vuSYugSv46bzUZXyGiRG7A4/s320/april.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Down 20lbs in July at my birthday!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4A0mkJmS96z1-k99j-1i2CanW6-SAjRevMffgQafguNA_FGISs0v8KJFaFVB-6AS4g1YDuY3s8bulb1eKb8xfB5QEzfLSIPPLlZWsvfGX8FXFNtZ4V4d7VPgjab8sQeA_xxPcKnOh3c/s1600/july.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4A0mkJmS96z1-k99j-1i2CanW6-SAjRevMffgQafguNA_FGISs0v8KJFaFVB-6AS4g1YDuY3s8bulb1eKb8xfB5QEzfLSIPPLlZWsvfGX8FXFNtZ4V4d7VPgjab8sQeA_xxPcKnOh3c/s320/july.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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This was taken earlier this month at our friends wedding :) down 30lbs total! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRCbbDNX5cDvZlKwOGZ_1F6Tb0HnXWD-P58pTrrDbsLD4LET4SsruMEglvSYFuPi4ifS3UGBNlOK4m1Fb9dZKvjonhziuJzivyrwyqSVsTfgJsarGHE0rmJF6e1PINQqZX4MxYynJtls/s1600/october.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRCbbDNX5cDvZlKwOGZ_1F6Tb0HnXWD-P58pTrrDbsLD4LET4SsruMEglvSYFuPi4ifS3UGBNlOK4m1Fb9dZKvjonhziuJzivyrwyqSVsTfgJsarGHE0rmJF6e1PINQqZX4MxYynJtls/s320/october.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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I've finally joined a gym and am now not only losing weight, but I really feel like I'm getting healthy. </div>
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Thanks for reading and supporting! I feel great and am so happy to be looking like me again :)</div>
<br />Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-4711359938689408572012-10-19T05:03:00.000+13:002012-10-19T05:03:25.828+13:00Front Desk WoesI recently passed my two year mark of working at the hotel. I have been working as a front desk agent this entire time, and my mind is blown by the things I see and hear. After a few curious guests this morning, I decided to chronicle some of the amazing things we see here at the Front Desk. Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-36230999147967564092012-08-20T06:46:00.003+12:002012-08-20T06:46:45.090+12:00ProofI never liked taking photos of my weight loss journeys. I guess I was afraid of failure, and photos would be a big fat (pun not intended) reminder. <br />
<br />
In all fairness, I don't have the bathing suit or underwear photo. Nothing bearing my tummy or my thighs.... and there won't be. Don't have the nerve for that yet. At least not to be posted online anywhere. <br />
<br />
But what I do have is this: <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGM3yRqgsZqw1MZ0nnwwpJkzZDCqqNJC7nhYeq3c7_N-3TQyyqRjUAGVfOpxG3nbEz6YY2zBB-41oaFceRpeqXUG7NoINTCqcuWl0LoGZ-FmC4YZpdGsWwcmNpulSQVHMOrMOzlL2L-Z0/s1600/580035_10151129402938502_3588006_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGM3yRqgsZqw1MZ0nnwwpJkzZDCqqNJC7nhYeq3c7_N-3TQyyqRjUAGVfOpxG3nbEz6YY2zBB-41oaFceRpeqXUG7NoINTCqcuWl0LoGZ-FmC4YZpdGsWwcmNpulSQVHMOrMOzlL2L-Z0/s400/580035_10151129402938502_3588006_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This photo was taken at our former roommates ASU graduation. I thought I looked cute that night. Yikes. Not happy about this photo being online.<br />
<br />
About two months ago, my big sister and I teamed up and agreed to keep each other accountable and lose together. I started tracking my calories, and joined <a href="http://www.myfitnesspal.com/">My Fitness Pal</a>. I started Jillian Michael's 30 day shred, and felt my stamina increase and my body shrink. <br />
<br />
I have had a few bumps along the way over the last month (birthdays and family in town was hard for me), but I'm back on track, and almost into a new goal range. <br />
<br />
This was me 6 weeks after starting at my birthday. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjB2HiOV41KJyi7q0Md8UotildWf-zE6zCtYmjqRY49YWqkWy8IofofQX7t3KHLUk37NR8cnllJHTa0Cx41q6KLLiGilbSCruprOaIohYlbLXk_5hr3ZBUe_rA_kFVNj9GmRqotj84Uag/s1600/557427_10151299438223502_636516838_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjB2HiOV41KJyi7q0Md8UotildWf-zE6zCtYmjqRY49YWqkWy8IofofQX7t3KHLUk37NR8cnllJHTa0Cx41q6KLLiGilbSCruprOaIohYlbLXk_5hr3ZBUe_rA_kFVNj9GmRqotj84Uag/s400/557427_10151299438223502_636516838_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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No, It's not a huge change, but I see it. Also, this is the only photo I can find at the moment, but I look different. I feel different. What you can't see, is my too-skinny skinny jeans, being loose. My tank top given to me a year and a half ago, getting worn for the first time. My new size 9 shorts feeling loose. Most of my clothes are now loose. </div>
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I'm not even close to done, but I'm making progress and seeing change. </div>
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Thank for reading :)</div>
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<br />Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-29381929856352667132012-01-14T18:17:00.002+13:002012-01-14T18:17:20.468+13:00friday night for an introvertMost anyone who knows me, knows that I am a major introvert. So after an unexpectedly long day at work, the very best thing for me, was a night home alone. Add to that delicious Hot Chocolate from Starbucks (and a very sweet boy who made it for me even though it was 3 minutes past closing time), PJ's, fuzzy pink slippers and How I Met Your Mother re-runs in bed. Not a bad Friday night in my books :)Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-37741292750604528072012-01-12T10:25:00.002+13:002012-01-12T10:25:31.449+13:00Couch Potato to 5KAnyone who knows me, knows that I have struggled with my weight for a long time. Sometimes I can manage to lose a little bit for a few months, but it always find me again and usually brings friends.<br />
<br />
The other day I was perusing my sisters pinterest, and saw that she had pinned something about <a href="http://www.c25k.com/">Couch to 5k</a>. I clicked the link and started reading a little bit. It took several days of me trying to ignore, but this morning, I finally started. It's not much, but starting small is easier for me.<br />
<br />
This morning I did day one of the workout, which included walking for 5 minutes to warm up, and then switching off jogging and walking at a 60/90 second interval.<br />
<br />
I'm excited for the plan, because it seems achievable, which makes me super excited!!!<br />
<br />
I decided I needed to set a goal for myself, so I have decided to commit to do <a href="http://www.pattillmanfoundation.org/pats-run/">Pat's Run</a> which is held here in Tempe. And of course - I'm posting it here for all to see, so that I hopefully can't back out.<br />
<br />
I'm going to try to blog more about how running is going, and even results I see in my body (hopefully)!!<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading!!Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-43635976285869726052011-12-11T08:43:00.001+13:002011-12-11T08:46:54.150+13:00.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyeprGnc12UJM76LNqjGE4VdLGjJZY1ku66kgCscUmLRKDjb7QtTHIu9oJGgx2BoH-3VQzPxovBsED-mUQ1hw4QpdNHdEK2F7gLpeIdzMAbBIDhqQ_CbBB6JwKfVh9k_tvZ_8QXlWxBgk/s1600/IMG190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyeprGnc12UJM76LNqjGE4VdLGjJZY1ku66kgCscUmLRKDjb7QtTHIu9oJGgx2BoH-3VQzPxovBsED-mUQ1hw4QpdNHdEK2F7gLpeIdzMAbBIDhqQ_CbBB6JwKfVh9k_tvZ_8QXlWxBgk/s320/IMG190.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Please excuse my AWFUL camera phone photo, but I wanted to show off my latest project.</div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-51910862025902580452011-08-30T16:02:00.000+12:002011-08-30T16:02:19.721+12:00DoriBob<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sunday morning, I was awoken by ringing. As my eyes blinked rapidly, straining for clarity, I realized that it was my cell phone. My eyes darted to clock. 4:46am. I'd been asleep for barely 3 hours. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Why was someone calling me at 4:46 am?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The display lit up, and I saw the name Natalie. It was my cousin. It took a moment for it to register that it was my cousin, as we never talk on the phone, and I couldn't rationalize why she would be calling me. Unable to process in time, my phone stopped ringing. That's when I saw the message alert in the top left corner. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It read: "FWD: Grandma went into cardiac arrest. She's in critical condition."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Time Stamp: 4:01am. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">45 minutes earlier. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I filled Dahvede in on what was going on and darted for first my bathrobe, and then the living room to call my cousin back.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was met with the information that caught my by such surprise, yet given the events of the last 3 or 4 minutes, I was suddenly expecting. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Grandma is gone. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I later was told that she died from a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">pulmonary embolism (clot from the lung). In that moment, I couldn't even grasp what my cousin was saying to me. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Then all the sudden I heard it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"You're the only one in your family that knows. I can't get a hold of Susie."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That meant my Dad didn't know yet.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Even as I sit here writing this, I am almost in tears thinking about that moment. Not only was my grandmother gone, but I suddenly was faced with the responsibility of informing my Dad that his Mom was gone. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">I can't remember a time or more specifically a phone call in my life that was more difficult than the one I was suddenly making. I was heart broken for my Dad. I remember almost 10 years ago now, when my Baboo passed away. I was sitting in the LAX airport, at Starbucks (my first time) with my dad, my sister, and my little brother, talking about the grandfather that we had just lost. In a moment, all of the memories came flooding back. The worst of them all, seeing my Dad cry. My dad is the most kind hearted, and gentle man you could ever know, but even so, he does not cry often. There are very few times in my life tat I remember him crying. That was one of them. Another was when I moved across the ocean with my husband. The worst feeling I have felt was having to tell him that his mom was gone. Quickly after the call, I lost service. I called back a minute later. He answered the phone and I could hear it in his voice. Tears. I felt like my heart had suddenly been wrapped in a rubber band. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">My grandma was the sweetest, most loving, most caring person. And she was soft. Her hugs were always the best. I remember countless times, coming to see them on Vacation. She cared for elderly people in her home with the help of her husband. She had such love and compassion for them. I would walk in the front door of their big log cabin, and I could smell "Phyllis's rolls" somewhere warming. They were my Grandpa's favorite. Straight ahead, was the stairs that led up to the bedrooms, and our favorite place, Grandma and Grandpa's bed. Just to the left of the stairs was the living room. There was always someone in there watching TV or playing cards or talking. But I always darted to the right first. past the dining room table and into the kitchen. Grandma was always there. I'd walk up, wrap my little arms around her waist, and bury my face in her chest. Every time we went to see them, it was the same. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">The last time I saw my Grandma, was over a year ago now. I was visiting for my cousin Dorothy's wedding, and was blessed the time with her. She was by no means perfect, and in fact, some of my favorite stories of hers were the ones that painted her in a semi-rebellious light. Like when she used to sneak cigarettes. Or how she stole my Grandpa from another girl. That one was always my favorite. It's the same way for my grandpa. I remember sitting on his lap, feeling his beard brush my cheek when he would go to kiss me. He taught me how to gamble while playing solitaire. I didn't think that was even possible :) little did i know.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">But this is about my grandma.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">I'm leaving in less than 36 hours to go be with my family as we lay her body to rest. I say her body, because I know that's not her anymore. It stopped being her yesterday morning, and I'm OK with that. She's finally with Baboo again. She entered through the gates and heard those beautiful words "Well done, my good and faithful servant."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">While Baboo was the theologian out of the two of them, Grandma knew, and loved, Jesus, the Gospel, and Scripture. Her body will be buried next to my grandfather's, But I know that her spirit is already worshipping at the feet of Jesus. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Grandma, we love you, and we will miss you! I'm so glad you're finally home! </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-50269226334713397562011-04-14T19:03:00.001+12:002011-04-14T19:03:25.938+12:00Tomorrow<div><p>My day will include lots of resting. It will also include lots of these things. </p>
<p>:)</p>
<br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANceXIZbqsp0YaZaYzFTzToQPi-2cfS0MNQL5_oRlTr4Wk_xIzJywr-3r1rcBrMPqaNVeD7rYMjUj3n5Ef_vA-Tw8dDrQdM9L3Wgcu2qNqKLvzRleVXIEf_klOeSxZeuA8Awz_n_whwU/' /><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zdv0oJrpwl1-BjQVKiadiV2qv7_wEfZXBh-PBf1wPnZBO7Cb4DrpipMC42_xqx5q4KOIdc8bXXr3taarWkRcGmTOFXkxYmwf4wBbZmfmDFIgmBEHBlZi-qMNww7Cf6RG7NBt5VOo574/' /><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmH-r-cTyBkgYQkxdUqVq4MwbJQ2gwOCrw_d8DGmPyOQ9V84czqiy24w09DRLOXKeL8HoK9IHZTZQFIClJ-xd6k834jLlcwspJwzBQLwVTmJJecx9EdMucap579qo3mUO6mx5D89ILUs/' /></div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-23492178466441205182011-04-12T12:30:00.002+12:002011-04-12T12:38:40.226+12:00<div style="text-align: center;">As promised - I would like to introduce you to the new car! </div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pqdsA-OUKq8HLEnznuy7Fov2Hh_0ECJ1e-zHUTnBX5cnM0oD7SMP93zTZq2dMvxg7qKhDamp6NiTUSu3OzHfMksIbbqYNJw0dDwq9LZEbKf96Bc9hG-ZChBCRt89t380p86090kE3fM/s1600/P1060363.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pqdsA-OUKq8HLEnznuy7Fov2Hh_0ECJ1e-zHUTnBX5cnM0oD7SMP93zTZq2dMvxg7qKhDamp6NiTUSu3OzHfMksIbbqYNJw0dDwq9LZEbKf96Bc9hG-ZChBCRt89t380p86090kE3fM/s400/P1060363.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488610771245410" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's a girl, but a name has not been decided on yet.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">She's a little beat up. Someone rammed into her from behind, but that is soon to be fixed. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfSuERJzXUCcSonWl-nXqXVytzbfG3lR6W3hlBNI5Jc59A1ZtRzqoiDV312x9PcX2LFOG82Xg-rFx5U0f3rYvNv3F5CiLdhJB2D4MyklENcviK-V650Ku50JvfRFD5y1cLG2AN6HCuKI/s1600/P1060359.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfSuERJzXUCcSonWl-nXqXVytzbfG3lR6W3hlBNI5Jc59A1ZtRzqoiDV312x9PcX2LFOG82Xg-rFx5U0f3rYvNv3F5CiLdhJB2D4MyklENcviK-V650Ku50JvfRFD5y1cLG2AN6HCuKI/s400/P1060359.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488600614208946" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Until then, she's our little Ford Escort, with no real name. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We are taking suggestions. </div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-84345345440357067242011-04-08T19:48:00.004+12:002011-04-08T20:01:11.282+12:00thought patterns<div style="text-align: center;">Tonight we had our weekly home group at our house (it almost always is), and my awesome friend <a href="http://autumnfarrellart.blogspot.com/">Autumn </a> found out I have like a dream tattoo that I want, but would basically never have the nerve to get, and since she's doing a series on people with tattoo's, and a follow up series of what tattoo's people <i>would </i>have, she's going to use me as one of her model's i guess. I'm super excited.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">What does that have to do with the rest of the post? basically, my dream tattoo is a half sleeve floral motif, with different flowers representing different people in my life. Gerbera daisies for me. Frangipanis for my sister Melody. Lilies for my sisters Susie and Cate. And most importantly, Blue hydrangeas for my nephew, Joshua Matthew. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Which got me to thinking about hydrangeas and my deep love for them. Which lead me to put this photo as my Desktop....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6yWk3XUCwVfqmJrR23W9N-dz1Ph0tbrxvpXj08_VPQ4gaF0pUVbgEz70x-CO4pQDPSjwKZIsTy7o1rvxhMi78f2H_Y7nxQsTV1tk0ifIOztqo9odgEGlo9JHco-aZ79ZQtsAYRLoaCxs/s400/hydrangea.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593119291917166850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And best of all. This photo as my google homepage:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAHCTbKcVbpH93GndoWvr1wrJF5xAJa-g966g3GoQjYDncP6777kTHFQvJTYdRBfq2wvMdfx8I8PDxOoscG-bevHCs9Vz0YhbFGaGWna0kAX3qITC5LE30b75I_i3K4Rp6twWRMs1opQ/s400/Untitled.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593119301104006210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Just wanted to leave you with some beautiful hydrangea love tonight :) happy early morning friday!</div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-22427500144739994042011-04-04T18:59:00.002+12:002011-04-04T19:00:16.882+12:00big announcement!We were given a car today!!!!!!<div><br /></div><div>photos and details to follow, but just needed to say this:</div><div><br /></div><div>JESUS - YOU ARE AMAZING!</div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-32203526893672507302011-03-26T06:32:00.003+13:002011-03-26T07:33:47.396+13:00the post in which i confess myself to be a granny<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">What? A granny? ok, so no. I am not actually a grandma, but with the things that i like, sometimes I feel like one.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">the latest thing on my wish list for the house??</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0IUQIIwfgkhEWSsKtwplPVmDPtJxz-qHVUKIGQnQ2jxoeIGi6nnLmTQ8MMGC548uWLs29xMZkV3AFLEEHQDunh_GtK6HOC4Q__eECAP_Tq5IISJa-jGkAEM0wkT3rlHCtJnMOjOClqs/s400/3m13p03o45V15T65R5b3p9414bc3377091a81.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588086785384024018" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yup, that's right. A Glider. Ok, so they're perfectly fine if you have babies, but there are no babies in our near future, and yet, I want one. I can think of little better than sitting in my rocking chair, with a cup of tea next to me, and crocheting. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So there you have it. I confess. I'm a bit of a granny! Now I just have to convince my husband to get one for me :)</div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-38237453624834422752010-10-27T05:48:00.002+13:002010-10-27T05:53:03.489+13:00beginning againAlmost 2 years ago I started WeightWatchers. It worked for me. I lost roughly 20 pounds and really felt great. However, I didn't keep it up, and not only gained back everything I lost, I added about 10 to it. <div><br /></div><div>So today, I'm starting off. I'm 180lbs and my goal is to be 130lbs, a healthy weight for my body. That's a long way to go, but I am determined to reach my 1st goal by Christmas. I want to at least lose 10% of my body weight (18lbs), but preferably, to hit that 2o lb mark! </div><div><br /></div><div>I will be tracking my progress here and being brutally honest about how things are going, how I'm feeling, and what's new. </div><div><br /></div><div>thanks for reading :)</div><div><br /></div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-17325559000532466042010-10-14T05:24:00.002+13:002010-10-14T05:36:56.384+13:00new job?Ever since I got my current job, I've been dreaming about leaving. I don't mind my job, but it's food service, and I'm not a huge fan of it. I do however like my co-workers, and I think my boss is great. And my hours, for the most part are pretty spectacular. I don't work nights, and I don't have to work Sundays. It was perfect for me. My boss trusted me, and while I've only been there about 8 months, I'm being given more senior rolls and shifts. I liked it for the most part. <div><br /></div><div>About a week ago, a friend of ours mentioned that he was looking for a new front desk person/receptionist at the hotel he works at. I was ecstatic! A job where I could take pride in my work for one of the first times in my life. I could get dressed up, and look pretty at work and not just "good enough". </div><div><br /></div><div>I applied. My references were contacted. I interviewed. I had my background checked. I interviewed again. I was offered the job. And somehow, in this whole process, I have lost all interest in the position. I will be working nights. Till 11pm mostly. I may be scheduled for Sundays. I was already scheduled for a Thursday night, which is when we host a home group in our home. We likely will not be able to go spend Christmas with family because of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I left the interview feeling like to take this new job I will have to sacrifice from my relationship with my husband, and from my relationship with God. Is that true? Maybe not. But it's how I feel. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have orientation for the job today, and while I'm still not feeling 100% about the job, I'm going to go. I'm going to pursue it, and give it my best shot, but I'm keeping my foot in the door at my original job for the time being. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess all of this was just to say... I'm kinda scared.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-39752483375794884322010-06-23T16:20:00.002+12:002010-06-23T16:25:27.122+12:00my eveningWhat have I done tonight, you want to know....<br /><br />After returning from Wal-mart with the cousin, I made myself eat at least a little bit of dinner - downed several glasses of water, proceeded to wash at least 3 episodes of The Office, learned a new game - Time's Up - and played with the cousins and their signifigant others.<br /><br />But finally, around 10:30pm, we decided to bake 3 more batches of black bottom cups for Saturday (the wedding day) and one batch of regular chocolate cupcakes for the bachelorette party tomorrow night. And clean the kitchen from the days festivities. and Dye the bride's hair. And blog.<br /><br />yup. that was my crazy night.<br /><br />yours?Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-22118235708650647662010-05-19T18:13:00.002+12:002010-05-19T18:25:53.993+12:00House-SittingOur friends Eric and April had an amazing opportunity to go hike the Grand Canyon this week, so we are camping out at their house for the next few days. They have a beautiful, and super fun puppy named Lucy, and we are enjoying getting to be puppy parents while they're gone. Lucy does however know that I am NOT April and she has been a little bummed since Mom and Dad left. I feel bad! I don't know what to do to cheer her up. Any tips people???Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-84303608917452290082010-05-14T19:25:00.002+12:002010-05-14T19:42:47.965+12:00Can't Sleep...So of course... Blog. Not so much of course. It's been a little while since I've consistently blogged, but no apologies. It's my blog! <div><br /></div><div>It's 12:30 and my husband is where I hope most of you are right now. In bed. Asleep. I tried, but sleep was not coming, and my husband (though God knows I love him) snores. So I got up. And what else do you do when it is almost midnight and you can't sleep? Wash dishes of course. My kitchen is sparkling right now!!! I even scrubbed my microwave.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't get me wrong... we wash dishes almost everyday here, so there weren't even that many dishes to do. However, our apartment, and more so our kitchen is small and our counter space very limited. So they feel like they build up super fast! </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways.... Just wanted to document my victory moment over my dishes :)</div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-74234514961310779122010-04-27T18:03:00.002+12:002010-04-27T18:28:42.139+12:00L O V EI am so super duper in love with my hubby! <div><br /></div><div>He is such a hard worker and is so wonderful to me! I treasure the fact that I get to spend my life with him! </div><div><br /></div><div>Dahvede, I love you so much! I can't even begin to tell you how much you mean to me!!!! </div><div><br /></div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-33394182344267867432010-04-20T05:27:00.002+12:002010-04-20T06:45:23.267+12:00friendsI have always had a really hard time making friends. Ever since I was little I was the type of person with 1, maybe 2 friends, and that was it. I am a fairly quiet and incredibly shy person and that has always hindered me. <div><br /></div><div>The year that I spend at Bible college in NY was one of the best times of my life simply because of the friends I had. I had the most, and best friends I'd ever had there. Leaving was one of the hardest things to do. </div><div><br /></div><div>The time Dahvede and I spent in New Zealand was difficult for both of us, because neither of us felt that we had many really close friends. I had my family, and having grown up homeschooled, that was very normal for me, but Dahvede really struggled.</div><div><br /></div><div>Moving to Arizona had me really scared for a long time. I know how hard making friends is for me, so I was really worried. </div><div><br /></div><div>BUT - here comes the best part of the story!!! God proved Himself to me in such an amazing way and blessed Dahvede and I with so many amazing friends! While Dahvede was away, many of his guy friends got engaged and married, meaning insta-friends for me :) </div><div><br /></div><div>Last night we had "a few friends" over to play games. The short list of friends included 10 people!! Maybe to some people that doesn't seem like much, but to me that is amazing! They are all such amazing people who are not only FUN to be around, but encouraging and uplifting! They are the reason I am falling in love with Arizona! They are my family here, and I love everyone of them! </div><div><br /></div><div>Eric, April, Katie, Christian, Jason, Marilyn, Meaghan, and Justin you guys are amazing and we love you so much!!!!</div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-79766889904656113192010-04-17T04:00:00.001+12:002010-04-17T04:00:57.671+12:00Craigslist BargainsThe last week or so we have been on the hunt (through craigslist) to buy a bed. Dahvede's parents left us their guest bed, which although it is beautiful, and fairly comfy... after a few months on it, both of us noticed the affect it was having on our sleep. It's only a full/double and while a queen (what we wanted) is only about 6" wider... it makes a huge difference. Tonight we picked our new (to us - but also almost brand new) mattress and boxspring. It was a total steal as the couple we bought it from had downsized homes, and just wanted it gone!!!! Woohoo!!! We're still in the market for a good frame, but since I have something very specific in mind, and I am cheap-o mc. cheaper-son, it may be a little while before that happens. <div><br /></div><div>I'll post pictures once we get it all settled, but as we're using this opportunity to switch rooms (a whole other story) the mattresses are lined up against a wall until we can find time to deal with them. </div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-85732647423904608092010-04-15T17:36:00.002+12:002010-04-15T17:50:07.137+12:00Poor Neglected BlogI feel bad when I realize that I have not posted on this blog in over 3 months. It's pitiful really. Well anyways... no whinging (kiwi's - sp?). Here's what is new:<div><br /></div><div>~ Dahvede started school and work.</div><div>~ The in-laws moved overseas so Dad could teach english. Exciting!!!</div><div>~ I found a job.</div><div>~ We moved into our very own apartment on our 6 month wedding anniversary!</div><div>~ We're loving church, and our small group, and making tons of new friends!</div><div><br /></div><div>Not a huge update... because it's getting late and I am POOPED! but just dropping in to say HI and to promise more blogs coming soon!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347507655052407938.post-24653618360034874992010-01-07T13:00:00.006+13:002010-01-07T14:17:54.422+13:00just for fun<div style="text-align: center;">I was flipping through some old photos today, as I am in the process of moving all my files to our external hard drive so I can free up space on my computer, and I stumbled across our engagement photos. I clicked into the album and landed on this series of shots. I love them because they sum up our relationship somedays. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xO493wtLIb8H7-8rS0rq5jEbXmKuNQWVl9_gy8EwJTzKROZYMyGZM9gP-nExCXyltvKGpRTDDi-8r2c1-Tk0-YhsdYayVGKB1t6FUp7NCQenrcZn-ikeAQuZEQBmC3UqbxcxEyPCBDg/s1600-h/IMG_1490.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xO493wtLIb8H7-8rS0rq5jEbXmKuNQWVl9_gy8EwJTzKROZYMyGZM9gP-nExCXyltvKGpRTDDi-8r2c1-Tk0-YhsdYayVGKB1t6FUp7NCQenrcZn-ikeAQuZEQBmC3UqbxcxEyPCBDg/s400/IMG_1490.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">It started off so innocently.....</div><br /><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAqpyQpEKcN3tlxGk4PC-F93sgV7_i0-eqoc7X_KjLc0zfVOobwqQNAU9-SVf3rzjEQgAvKUNOczFzvaAOAqlJzY3OAcOXX2oyqi2VZYPQyAVSxjWW8nXD-r2TbqO_R7Mp_odXQjTv5c/s1600-h/IMG_1493.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAqpyQpEKcN3tlxGk4PC-F93sgV7_i0-eqoc7X_KjLc0zfVOobwqQNAU9-SVf3rzjEQgAvKUNOczFzvaAOAqlJzY3OAcOXX2oyqi2VZYPQyAVSxjWW8nXD-r2TbqO_R7Mp_odXQjTv5c/s400/IMG_1493.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Having fun and laughing with my sister.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BF0mR7J38GvAry805P2PgiKungRa209OVgrPuMIvekJ8L8xiRyYB9P_cpRcQLy6SKMQX9J78b6nu_EOJFelnfSrUglbKIL4rxUozDNYhPqZCvCllbMuiJG8EX2WfbrAN2rskjncNJZs/s1600-h/IMG_1499.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BF0mR7J38GvAry805P2PgiKungRa209OVgrPuMIvekJ8L8xiRyYB9P_cpRcQLy6SKMQX9J78b6nu_EOJFelnfSrUglbKIL4rxUozDNYhPqZCvCllbMuiJG8EX2WfbrAN2rskjncNJZs/s400/IMG_1499.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; ">The wind picks up and...</div><div style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; "><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIpCv6dSaJJB8XZjMyuDLYHxcNOQwJHzOQNVzu-Mh55gHsP-5dWQ54ee2Pr_BN7AhRYbsyeDENhbso6Pi3lIulr957xsc_tTFuOUAjOeI0jCxNiU7r9LUhcqK3i_3X7Zy7635xRiz7kf4/s1600-h/IMG_1502.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIpCv6dSaJJB8XZjMyuDLYHxcNOQwJHzOQNVzu-Mh55gHsP-5dWQ54ee2Pr_BN7AhRYbsyeDENhbso6Pi3lIulr957xsc_tTFuOUAjOeI0jCxNiU7r9LUhcqK3i_3X7Zy7635xRiz7kf4/s400/IMG_1502.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">Yup... this really happens</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOq_vpBcc676DBDXIrE_pkxYcEgdM-psiSn8Z-IP7X7GoRR3WFmjniF103EGEbcn8h5m8Y4NMc8X4tou0rv2kHmiYODvkER_SHO0Z4TZvua0gL-W7c7aRM493LdQxch51WkBPDdEGRmdo/s400/IMG_1504.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423783668404764114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">...</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhes24fM0frbliKC2G-RhbjFI3J4_jN7n05ta7rIg9ANhNTypgFckL3vwodz2oHbY8h1sJG3_-3S1YNM-OSCn1jFFgKwlSRlQIVaZrzSy0RXhWdPpXuelZybTwS76_Jwd5HOZ92108I8Cs/s400/IMG_1505.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423783678409566882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></div></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">...</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHJ7Yzkh6wFz4YpuXMi8iB96U6ekB095rzCpaBoZdMDuwjURrVrsX3o83E7YADZHbM5SzC-EpzZbHAzXl4DBm8I6JyPCmHChOVAejfHSBBRW5cX3EIhBIWQhYg77vJmijySGGliboTvis/s400/IMG_1506.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423783684194341026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">Oh yup... That would be my hair.</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxprDCOzo10DveQ8iG6e3b-N7rche6l7qXTrHEsYuA8qaSqjc02xEQwRoGhue_i0tamsI_NjG2UTbCMNwsbopLMZa-7EPHpcZUUjbH-QP3qmCkbHMngaQ73NzlBcqDFTpV_3Fgc1gObu4/s400/IMG_1507.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423783688086067666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">That you BIT OFF!!!</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPld44T1J0_UNatwaq6q1cEF8UtauvcR7yVxjmhhgoEQBxThzqKBOwOUQl-8OMQhPsIV2JEV_xqfbDbt1lj-HwHDv1n4lG9xuvRWJm1HHU-c-t7vgKRUPqKcjmvQftr1-go2DkXpvZkNI/s400/IMG_1508.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423783700065045234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">...</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCGZiNVFgUo7GbgQdg-k-5OqqSfM8cUf3DzbQP_XYzywgqkV6RPmXt4ueV-7_X2J6Jaiv-unzw_kN4KqfxkBdklbGxfeextiRw-u9FtQoYUeXFMIdSou54pkuuk-tBIw6qf_iP2aJPugc/s400/IMG_1509.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423784222556773490" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">You HAVE to laugh!</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrx_QYYSFG93v2-HnwcsIGPZJ1850v68GGUy1oRUwYOkWaQ_9R-Ziy9pcmPsqd1qbB8WiHtrjqKUUqG8V6EhqAWYQFRoW0axqIWEWmD1LWgPbtrmRo_bhhfkK28deA-75IqmrqPflOjU/s400/IMG_1510.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423784231213387106" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">"You know... with some bacon..."</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDG8CM7oy_Bo1W3GJxmTq0MPzhrm6Svyd9fU9yP-E_Fxyk-Hzu3vLtDrSdGIvt_BNIk-J1s7D0dLvtFMq0jNKzzZgLcX8Mye7eM9Xf_gfbsWMZlyy9LlZvyIv4ja0_65MNEm8aAlJACso/s400/IMG_1511.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423784234713248322" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">This is my "Oh geez" pose.</div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoc7LZGiiiTp7iNDhFpmqXJKaWmNECiaXZoB4LyTEy3E_1FtNpfcPV8OQCk8ehSRBoo0Vu8XZAofOmrGfMH4xRAfn5IjX1BYu25Cz7Hw8QFjoq1ETDM1gwjRV1ZXAIgYmvxI-bWOL7yBQ/s400/IMG_1515.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423784242648454290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center">Haha... I love us! </div><div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><br /></div><div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div><div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><br /></div>Havalahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692435995234622258noreply@blogger.com0