tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51166474811334783602024-03-14T02:06:56.350-04:00The Cam FamKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-54610985348524760862019-11-04T14:17:00.000-05:002019-11-04T14:22:36.938-05:00Drag Queen Story Hour: The Opponents Have it All Wrong <div style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin: 4.5pt 0in;">
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<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I brought two of my children (ages 5 and 6) to drag queen </span><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px;">story time</span><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> at the Crofton Library last week. Before going I helped my kids understand the event in this way:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"><i>“Drag Queens help us to celebrate differences! There are some people in the world who like to dress in less traditional ways. For example, some boys/men like to wear clothes that are more traditionally thought of as women’s clothes. And sometimes they like to perform and share their true selves with others while wearing their favorite outfits! People who like to dress and perform in this way are called Drag Queens.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"><i>“There is no “right” or “wrong” way for anyone to dress. There is no “right” or “wrong” way for anyone to look. The most important thing is that we are true to ourselves and celebrate everyone for who they are. Kindness matters. Being a good person matters. Being true to YOU matters. What you wear and what you look like does not matter!” </i></span></span><i style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 10.5pt;">I prepared them for the fact that sometimes events like this attract people who do not believe in celebrating everyone’s humanity. I explained that because of this, it’s important that those of us who believe in kindness and celebrating everyone show up in big numbers, so we drown out the negativity of anyone who disagrees.</i></div>
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<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 10.5pt;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YI9D97WgWGE/XcB4oEtv-fI/AAAAAAAAEnI/mTNUDy66QuYPUFt9mlgLGOP3hlFkwVo7gCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/image0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YI9D97WgWGE/XcB4oEtv-fI/AAAAAAAAEnI/mTNUDy66QuYPUFt9mlgLGOP3hlFkwVo7gCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/image0.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I had hoped my preparing them for people who opposed this event would be for naught. But, sadly it wasn’t. When we arrived, there were numerous older individuals in the front of the library (monitored closely by police) with large signs that said things like “Crofton Library is corrupting our children.”</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I watched these individuals and wondered what they were so afraid of. I wondered what they feared would happen to children who were seeing a joyful man, dressed as a beautiful woman, sing, dance, and share stories of inclusion and identity. Watching the children in attendance it was clear there was nothing to fear at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">My own children struggled to understand why anyone would oppose an event like this. The people with the signs were still there when we left. As I asked my kids what they thought of the event Connor (5) said, “It was really fun!” Zach (6) said, “He looked really cool!” Zach then said, “Why were those people with the signs mad about this event? Why didn’t they want us to go?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I explained that not everyone is able to celebrate people for who they are in the same way we do. I explained that some people fear things that are different. I explained that it is because of the people out front holding those signs that we must work extra hard to spread kindness and love as far and wide as we can. My boys smiled and said, “We will, Mama!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">If you e</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">ver worry about the future of this country, go to a Drag Queen story hour. You might see protesters who just don’t get it. But you’ll also see children who are learning to accept everyone for </span><i style="font-size: 10.5pt;">who</i><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> they are, regardless of how they dress or what they look like. You’ll see our future, and you’ll smile. </span></div>
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Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-67559997185503684662016-11-10T14:16:00.001-05:002016-11-10T14:33:11.736-05:00A Letter to My Sons After Donald Trump's Election <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My Dear Ryan, Zachary, & Connor, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I thought a lot about the letter I would write to you after
this election. And this is NOT the letter I thought I would be writing. I
thought I would be writing about how proud I was of our Nation for electing our
first female President and for voting against a bully who represented hate and
for a candidate who sought LOVE for all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But sadly, that is not the letter I am writing because, that
bully won. Last night Ryan, as we were snuggling before you went to sleep, as
we do every night, you said in a most somber tone, “I just really wanted to see
the first girl become President.” Me too, buddy, me too. And that fact that we
are not celebrating that today and for many years to come is devastating. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My sweet boys, you will hear a lot of negative things said
about Hillary Clinton. I know you’ve already heard many of them. And like I
always told you, she is not perfect. She made mistakes. She did things she
regrets. But she has also been under a microscope for the majority of her adult
life. That means people have watched her every move very, very, closely. And we
all know that if everyone watched my every move as your mom that they would see
me make mistakes every day. Making mistakes does not make us bad. It does not
make us unworthy of leading. They do not disqualify us from holding very
important jobs. It is how we respond to those mistakes that defines us. For the
things Hillary did that truly were mistakes (i.e. having a private e-mail
server, calling a lot of people “deplorable” etc) she apologized and expressed
regret. We believe in forgiving each other. Just as when I make a mistake as
your mom, I always, always say I am sorry, I do my very best to do better, and
I hope with all my heart that you will forgive me. Sadly, too many people
refused to forgive Hillary and instead let her mistakes define her…not as a
sign of her humanity, but as a sign of being unfit for the job. They were
wrong. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There are two major differences between the mistakes Hillary
made and the ones Donald Trump made:</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">1.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Hillary never spoke in hateful ways about large
groups of people. Donald Trump spoke in hateful ways about women, Muslim
people, Jewish people, Black people, Hispanic people, and people with
disabilities. Hate is something that cannot be tolerated. It is something we
must ALWAYS speak out against. And even though Donald Trump will be our
President we must continue to speak out against the hateful rhetoric he spewed
throughout this election. </span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">2.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Donald Trump almost never said I’m sorry. The
one time he did he qualified it—his horrible talk about how women can be
treated—by saying it was “locker room talk” and his wife called it “boy talk.”
You three know that we never speak in disrespectful tones about women, and the
fact that the future President of our United States doesn’t know that is
horrifying. But we also understand the importance of a sincere apology. Sadly,
Mr. Trump does not understand that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I hope that history will look fondly on Hillary Clinton. I believe she was a strong, </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">capable, determined candidate and the morning after she lost the election when she gave her concession speech I was never more convinced of that. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She was poised, honest, respectful, and real. She would have
been an amazing leader for our Country. I will never stop believing that and I
will never stop being grateful to her for all she did to advance women’s issues
and to try to teach the world that women truly are just as good as men. She
helped you three to understand that and I am proud that you’ll grow up never
thinking otherwise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As for the leader we are stuck with? I would be lying if I
didn’t tell you that I’m having a really hard time with the fact that he was
elected. I know you saw my tears many times yesterday. I know you understand
how sad and angry I am that Donald Trump won. I am angry and sad because the
people who voted for him saw and heard the hateful things he did and they voted
for him anyway. And as I’ve always told you, standing up for what is wrong is
one of the most important things we can do as people! And all the people who
voted for him DIDN’T DO THAT! I will not
say, “It will be ok. Our Constitution will hold firm and protect all of us.”
Because unless an awful lot of us stand up and refuse to let hate take over,
then it just might. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But, at the same time, I am <i>soooo relieved </i>that Hillary Clinton won the popular vote. This
means that more people actually voted for her than for Donald Trump. And sadly,
because of an out-dated system, she doesn’t get to be our President. But
knowing that the majority of people didn’t vote for her is a relief because it
means we do have a HUGE group of people who will help us fight against hate and
spread kindness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And spreading kindness is what we are going to work <i>really hard </i>to do. We started yesterday.
We gave out Hershey’s hugs and kisses to strangers; we brought cookies to the
office staff at Ryan’s school; We brought cookies to the Firefighters at the
fire station, and we bought two strangers’ coffee at Starbucks. So, when you
think about the day we learned Donald Trump would be our President I want you
to remember the joy we felt in seeing the smiles and hearing the gratefulness of
the people we spread kindness to yesterday. I want you to remember that warm
feeling bubbling up from somewhere deep within you that said, “This is right.
This is good. This is how we spread love.” I want you to remember the pride we
felt in knowing that instead of wallowing in fear or despair we went out and
did something good. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Donald Trump may not be a good man. But he will NEVER keep
us from being good. And while there is very much work to do to make sure that
the majority of our Country understands what it means to be good and seeks to
act out of goodness every day (and use our privilege of voting for good and not
hate), I am confident that if you, and I, and our friends and family continue
to spread goodness that it will in fact grow and make a difference in this
world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So, my kind, thoughtful, sensitive boys, the greatest thing
you can do for this world is to embrace that sensitive side of yourselves. Look
deep within yourselves and be proud of the fact that you have cried when
watching a sad movie or when coming upon a dead animal outside. Be proud of the
fact that you love to wear toenail polish (and do so with pride and joy) and
love rainbows and bright colors like hot pink. Be proud of the fact that you
know what it means to be sensitive to the feelings of others and have expressed
sadness yourselves when seeing someone you care about who is sad. These
characteristics may not be the most common among boys in our world, but they
should be. And when more boys are like the three of you, then this world will
be a better, more understanding place and we <i>will</i> one day elect our first female president. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Spread kindness my sweet boys. Show love, be brave, stand up
for what is right. Stand against what is wrong. And always, always, always
choose to be kind. No one, especially Donald Trump, can take that away from
you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Love always, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mama </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">P.S. To clarify, because a lot of people have been making
this an issue in the past day and a half: Speaking out strongly and forcefully
against hatred does not make you a hateful person. Hate is something we must
ALL stand against. Hate wins when we are silent, or worse, when we make excuses
or exceptions for people who are being hateful. So, always choose to be kind.
But also always choose to be loud in your disagreement with those who are being
unkind. </span></div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-66929493319130833732016-07-08T15:28:00.000-04:002016-07-08T15:36:36.291-04:00Opening the Conversation: Race in America <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have three boys. My neighbor is currently pregnant with
her third boy. We live in the same town, in the safe affluent neighborhood, on
the same street, two houses from each other. Her boys and my boys come from
parents with advanced degrees. They come from loving homes full of opportunity.
Her boys are kind, outgoing, and polite. Mine are too…most of the time. Her
boys and my boys will go to the same schools. And yet, I know that her
experience as a mother, particularly as her boys get older, will be vastly
different from mine. Why? Because my boys happen to be white and hers are
black. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I will fear for my sons’ safety as they learn to drive and
get behind the wheel of a car because of reckless drivers and the poor
decisions teens sometimes make. She will have these same fears, but she will
also have to fear that her sons’ lives could be in danger for buying a bag of
skittles or driving with a broken taillight. I’ll worry that my sweet boys don’t
get caught up with a “bad crowd” or that they aren’t picked on or bullied at
school. She will worry the same. But she’ll also worry that her sons will be
seen as a threat to someone else’s safety if they happen to choose to wear a
hooded sweatshirt. She will live in fear of how people will falsely view her
children and how they might react when they sense a false threat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Parenting is a fear-filled endeavor for anyone. But having
that fear magnified by 1000 simply because of the color of one’s skin is an unfathomable
injustice. I can’t begin to imagine what it is like to live with that fear. I
would be angry…I would…Actually, I don’t know how I would feel. And the truth
is, I will never know. I was born white and so were my boys. And because of
that pure luck, and because I will never know what it’s like to be anything
other than white, I have a <i>responsibility</i>
to try my absolute best to <i>understand </i>the
experience of people of color, like my neighbor, her husband, and their three
boys. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The recent killings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile
have put in pristine focus for me the extreme ways in which other human beings
react in a moment of perceived threat. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">People can believe what they want about Mr.
Sterling and whether he did something to attract the attention of the police.
But that is a moot point. He was tackled on the ground and clearly overtaken by
the police officers. There is no reason he should be dead. As for Mr. Castile,
there are no reports anywhere that he did anything other than drive with a
broken taillight to attract the attention of the police. He reportedly told the
officer involved that he had a permit to carry a concealed weapon, which he
disclosed was on his person, and that he was getting his wallet and
identification as was asked of him. And now he is dead. Perhaps worst of all,
as these men lay dying the officers involved did NOTHING to provide aid or
prevent their death. They did not provide first aid. In the case of Mr.
Castile, who it seems was shot only in the arm, imagine if instead of pointing
the gun at his girlfriend and handcuffing her if the officers had instead
placed a tourniquet on his arm. A simple show of humanity could have saved his
life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We have all walked or driven through areas that we perceive,
sometimes quite accurately, to be unsafe. But what we have to remind ourselves
is that those areas are not unsafe because black people live there. They are
unsafe because there is little opportunity in those areas. There are few
programs for children and adolescents. The schools and other educational
opportunities are limited. In the areas most in need of services and support,
even basic needs are more difficult to attain. There are fewer grocery stores
and department stores. People have to drive/walk/use public transportation to
go further to get less. And when people are desperate, and they lack education,
and resources, and support, they react out of fear and desperation, and do
things and behave in ways they otherwise would not. Yes, these situations are
desperate, and no, there are no easy solutions. Knowing where to begin, and
what we can do to help is challenging and sometimes seems so impossible that we
freeze. Donating money seems superficial. Volunteering time can be a struggle
when we are doing our best to care for our own families. But one place we can
all begin is by opening the conversation and committing to better understanding
all of our fellow human beings. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I read today <a href="http://citizenshipandsocialjustice.com/2015/07/10/curriculum-for-white-americans-to-educate-themselves-on-race-and-racism/">an
article</a> on race that compared racism to a gigantic societal-sized boot. The
author asked, if racism is a boot, then who is “fighting the hardest to avoid
being squashed by the boot?” Yes, people of color. And who is it that is
wearing the boot? Yes, white people. And who then should be responsible for stopping
the boot from squashing anyone? The people who are already fighting against the
pressure of the boot or the people wearing it? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hope you came to the correct answer yourself. But if you
didn’t, let me spell it out for you. White people. White people have a
responsibility to stop the boot. This author was not saying all white people
are racist, and neither am I. I certainly don’t like to consider myself racist,
and I hope I have never acted in a way that is. But, I also know that I have
not openly acted in a way to challenge the racist beliefs of those I encounter.
And as a white person, I am in a unique position to open the dialogue and
potentially change the viewpoints of other white people who may be racist; a
position that people of color are not in at all. And so, with this post, that
is what I am attempting to do. </span></div>
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<div style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">I also commit to better understanding
issues of race in our country. I have already reserved the book “The New Jim
Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness” by Michelle Alexander at
my local library. It was on hold and I am 3<sup>rd</sup> in the queue. This
fact in and of itself gave me hope. Maybe other people in my community have had
the same idea I did. </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">If you too would like to better
understand issues of race, so you can open a dialogue that is not at all open
enough, then check out the article I linked to above and check out <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/lifestyles/books/ct-prj-black-lives-matter-book-clubs-20160204-story.html">this
article</a> which includes links to a reading list on issues of race. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Now, I started writing this article on
Thursday before the horrific shootings in Dallas occurred. And so, I would be
remiss to not address that tragedy. Those officers were assassinated. The
actions of the people who carried out those killings are <i>not justified…</i>not even a little bit. Those individuals were no
doubt angry. But they only made the situation worse. Instead of drawing greater
attention to issues of race, injustice, and excessive force by some police
officers they have provided fuel to the fire for people who will say, “See? It’s
them. <i>They </i>are the problem.” And that
will only serve to shut down an already difficult conversation even further.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And I fear that because of the actions of these snipers in Dallas
that the o</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">verwhelming message will now be “black lives will only matter </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">when</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> police lives matter.” And that is </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">not</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> true. In fact, Dallas was an exemplary
example of how the black community and the police community can work together. The police were out in full force making it safe for a Black
Lives Matter protest to proceed peacefully and successfully. And yet, so many
people seem to believe that you either have to support law enforcement </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">or</b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> support people of color; that police
lives </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and </b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">black lives can’t matter
simultaneously. But they can, and they do. As John Stewart (seriously, when
will that man run for office?) so eloquently said today “You can truly grieve
for every officer who’s been lost in the line of duty in this country, and
still be troubled by cases of police overreach. Those two ideas are not
mutually exclusive. You can have great regard for law enforcement and still
want them to be held to high standards.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And so, we will all struggle with what to do and how best to
react to the tragic events that have occurred this week. But please join me in
my commitment to more conversations, more understanding, and more willingness to
see both sides of this issue; an issue that is of utmost importance to the
survival and success of our great Nation. It is my hope that I will raise boys
who will grow up completely confounded by the idea that someone would <i>ever</i> judge someone differently because
of the color of their skin. It is my hope that my three boys and my neighbor’s
three boys have life experiences far more similar than I expect they will given
the state of things at this time. But I have to believe there is hope that can
change. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Together, let’s ask questions. Let’s try to understand. Let’s
accept that some people may not use the exact, most politically correct words
when trying to better understand and instead of judging, let’s educate. The
future truly rests in the hands of our children and it is our responsibility to
raise children who will make this world a kinder place than it is now. We can
only do that by opening and changing the conversation, by working together to
lift the oppressive boot of racism. Start now. Start tonight. Open the
conversation at your own dinner table. I know I will be.</span></div>
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Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-72828838567172446842016-06-13T21:33:00.000-04:002016-06-13T21:33:15.163-04:00Let It Begin with Me...and You <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bv1grYIJdkc/V19evn2gnkI/AAAAAAAAEY8/kAalFzKDQzg7Knqd4FErQnod6-V8PU7lQCLcB/s1600/Florida.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bv1grYIJdkc/V19evn2gnkI/AAAAAAAAEY8/kAalFzKDQzg7Knqd4FErQnod6-V8PU7lQCLcB/s320/Florida.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I was 16 years old my parents planned a surprise
birthday party for me. They invited a group of my friends to Planet Hollywood
in Washington, DC. The day of my party also happened to be the day of the
annual Capital PRIDE celebration. In order to get me to Planet Hollywood my Dad
and brother framed it as “let’s just go check out DC for the day.” We headed
into DC and started walking towards Planet Hollywood with the plan that my
brother would just casually suggest eating there for lunch. In order to get
there we walked smack dab through the middle of the PRIDE parade. At one point
we were practically in the parade. I remember watching my Dad’s face to see his
reaction. I remember the smirk on my older brother’s face as he smiled about
the surprise that awaited me and probably imagined my mom walking through the
same parade a few minutes prior with a group of my good friends, some of whom
she didn’t know that well. I remember smiling in awe as I took in the bright
colors, open expressions of love, and colorful personalities that surrounded
me. It was a joyous event and one I have not and never will forget. We
eventually arrived at Planet Hollywood and I was indeed surprised. But whenever
I retell the story of my 16<sup>th</sup> birthday party Planet Hollywood doesn’t
even get mentioned. I like to tell it as
“Mom and Dad planned a surprise party for me at the Capital PRIDE Parade. It
was AWESOME!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And awesome it was. This was my first true experience of
LGBT culture and I don’t remember much except the immense feeling of joy and
warmth that came from being a part of that parade. My Dad, brother, and I must
have stuck out like a sore thumb walking through; But not for a second did I
feel out of place or uncomfortable, because everyone there stuck out for their
own unique style, beauty, outfits, hair, costumes, love, energy, and
excitement. It was a wonderful feeling. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A number of years prior, when I was about 10 I remember
standing in the kitchen of my grandmother’s house when I overheard a
conversation in which I learned that my beloved cousin Paul, was gay. At the
time I had recently heard in the news about there being a greater number of
people who were gay who were contracting the AIDS virus. So, my first thought
was one of worry. I just wanted my cousin, whom I loved dearly to be ok. Once I
talked to my mom and learned that he was completely fine, then so was I. I
loved him, and who he loved didn’t matter at all to me, or to my parents. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A number of years after that I remember meeting my cousin’s
boyfriend (also named Paul!) for the first time at their apartment in Greenwich
Village. I was there with my boyfriend, and the four of us went to lunch at a
local restaurant. Paul and Paul had been dating for some years at that point
but this was the first time I had the chance to see them together as a couple.
I remember being struck by the tender and sincere love and affection that they
shared and still do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Since that time, through college and work I have been fortunate
to call many men and women who are gay or lesbian, my friends. And from each
and every one of them I have never felt anything in return except love,
acceptance, and friendship. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Why do I write all this? It is to tell the Orlando shooter
(who I will not even name) that he messed with the wrong group. Mr. Shooter,
your heart may have been filled with hatred. And your goal was to spread that
evil far and wide. You likely sought to silence and scare a group of people you
rejected as “other.” But we will not be silenced. We will not be brought to our
knees in fear. We will rise up. We will spread love. We will reject hate. And
we will make this world a stronger and better place in light of the evil act
you committed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes, I say we. For the attack may have been directly against
the LGBT community, but all of us who are their allies and friends will stand
with them to spread the love further. We will recall the kindness, joy,
acceptance and openness that we feel when surrounded by the LGBT community and
we will seek to take the lessons they teach and preach so well, and we will
raise better children; we will be better people; we will love more and hate
less. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The same cousin I mentioned above currently lives in
Florida. He posted a video this morning from a memorial service he attended
last night in St. Petersburg. In the video everyone was singing “Let There Be
Peace on Earth.” I cannot think of a better way to honor the 49 men and women
who died in the wake of such evil. Their deaths will not be in vain. For each
of those brave brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, husbands and wives, I say:</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Let peace begin with
me<br />
Let this be the moment now.<br />
With every step I take<br />
Let this be my solemn vow.<br />
To take each moment<br />
And live each moment<br />
With peace eternally.<br />
Let there be peace on earth,<br />
And let it begin with me.”</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Will you join me? </span></div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-79773654119037775582016-04-16T10:55:00.000-04:002016-04-16T11:18:09.381-04:00What Scary Mommy Taught Me <div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">
Earlier this week I was published on Scary Mommy for the first time. And yes, given that my piece was about the Obamas I was more than a little scared (see what I did there?) to see what the response would be. But who knew that such a simple experience could be a reminder about humanity in all its forms. These are the things that I learned as a result:<br />
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1.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt;"> </span> <b>Haters gonna hate</b></div>
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I chose to write about one of the most polarizing families in my lifetime. So, yes, I knew there would be some negativity. And of course there was. There were people who made obnoxious comments who clearly hadn’t even read the article. There was one particularly noxious woman that said I must be “Obama’s lover” to have written such “garbage.” There were people who made accusatory and false statements about the President of the USA that border on treason. But, I was also pleasantly surprised.<br />
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2.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt;"> </span><b>The vast majority of people are reasonable and kind</b></div>
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<b> </b>There were many people who commented on my post and readily acknowledged that while they don’t agree with the Obamas from a political standpoint, they could still respect them as people. This was the intent of my post, and it was heartening to see that people “got that” and were willing to openly state their belief in someone’s value as a person despite their disagreement with their political views. Also, I was so surprised and flattered that so many people didn’t just comment on the post, but also took the time to compliment my writing. They had nothing to gain from that and I was touched beyond measure. Lastly, I realized…</div>
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3.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt;"> </span><b>Some people are exceptional human beings </b></div>
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This morning, when I checked the e-mail account associated with my blog, I found an e-mail from a woman who, in her words, “I read your letter to the Obamas on FB, which led me to your blog, which led me to some of your writing and photos. (You know how the crazy labyrinth of FB works!)” She went on to tell me how she, too, is the mother of three boys. But the difference between her and me is that her sons are grown. She shared how she felt when she learned her third child was a boy (a bit disappointed), how angry she would get every time someone would ask “will you try for a girl” (I hear ya, sister!) and offered advice on raising kind, caring men who value their relationship with their mother (I’ll take all the advice I can!). She even included pictures of her three boys. As I read this heartfelt message from a stranger, as the tears rolled down my cheeks I was overwhelmed by her kindness. She went out of her way for someone she’d never met.</div>
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When friends and family started to realize that my article had been published on Scary Mommy I was warned “Don’t read the comments!” And as I read the comments I saw people who posted their expectation that the comments would all be negative and full of vitriol. But, they were not. They were far from it. So, thank you Scary Mommy readers. You have renewed my faith in humanity. I am grateful and I am honored to be among the ranks of readers and writers alike who are—for the most part—kind, caring, and compassionate people. Truly, thank you.</div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-75169032231139575672016-04-01T14:39:00.001-04:002016-04-02T12:44:24.259-04:00Dear President & Mrs. Obama Dear President & Mrs. Obama,<br />
<br />
Today I saw the pictures of the two of you reading "Where the Wild Things Are" at the White House Easter Egg Roll. Besides being completely jealous of those who got to be there (that's right, I've entered the ticket lottery every year for the past 6 years since I had children of my own and not once did we get tickets...alas) I also found myself in awe, as I often do, of the two of you.<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 alt="😱😱😱😱" src="https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2016-03/29/10/enhanced/webdr13/enhanced-24581-1459263099-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: Nicholas Kamm/AFP/Getty Images </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;"><img alt="Ah! Too scary!" src="https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2016-03/29/10/enhanced/webdr03/enhanced-20922-1459263491-5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: Jonathan Ernst/Reuters </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
You see, in looking at these pictures, I didn't just see two confident people reading in a goofy way to a bunch of kids. Nope. I also saw two examples of humanity, kindness, and confidence.<br />
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Its no secret that I am a huge supporter of your politics, Mr. Obama. Any visitor to my Facebook page or blog would see very quickly and easily that I have been and continue to be a huge fan of yours. But one of the things that makes me so proud to have both of you as the representatives of our Nation is that there is more to you than politics. You clearly have a sense, everywhere you go that you are not only representing your own political views. You know you're more than just representatives of the United States of America. It is clear that you both realize you are humanitarians. You are examples of good will. You are an example to the world of what it means to be human. You are an example to children and adults alike, of how to be confident in who you are. Today, when my 6 y/o son, Ryan, gets home from school I will show him this video of the two of you reading. </div>
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You see, just yesterday Ryan delivered his first ever "presentation" in front of his class. His homework for a few days leading up to this presentation was to practice in front of his family. Having grown up competing in speech and debate I was eager to help Ryan with this project. As he practiced his "When I grow up" speech (OK, so it was just 6 sentences, but I think for a Kindergartner we can call that speech, right?) I coached him on how to look at his audience, how to effectively use hand motions to get his point across, and how to speak loudly, and not into the paper he was holding. A few times he said to me, "This is embarrassing." He's getting to the age where he understands the concept of embarrassment. Recently, when we went to see Zootopia in the theaters, just me and him, I started rocking out to Shakira's "Try Everything." I mean, how can you not dance to that song? And so, dance I did. And what did he do? He crouched in his seat and asked me to stop. Just a year ago he would have happily joined in the dance. But now, he knew people could see me (don't worry, we were in the back row, and this was the closing credits, we weren't bothering anyone). He was embarrassed. And to be honest, if he was your kid, watching you read at the Easter Egg roll, he may have been embarrassed too. Maybe Sasha and Malia were? </div>
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But he's not your kid. He looks up to you. He knows you're our "Big Leader Guy" and even if he didn't state that he'd like to follow in your footsteps as President of the United States in his first big speech (sorry, the allure of a train engineer is just too great at his young age. Plus, he's wise. He knows being President comes with a lot of stress, especially with the likes of Mitch McConnell as leader of the Senate...but I digress) he does respect you and think you're pretty cool. So, yes, I will show him the video of the two of you reading <i>Where the Wild Things Are </i>and we will talk about how it can be fun to be silly and goofy in front of a crowd. We will talk about how the two of you weren't concerned about what other people would think when you made those awesome faces. You were just having fun and being yourselves. We will talk about confidence and I will hope that just a little bit of the message sticks. If we're being honest, I will hope that a lot of your messages stick. </div>
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Just this morning, I was talking with my husband, and I said, "I think this is as good as it gets. I don't think our children will ever see another President and First Lady who are better examples of how to be a good person" than they have seen in the two of you. And sadly, two of my three children will likely never remember your presidency. Zachary and Connor are only 3 years and 18 months. I'm not sure either of them knows who the two of you are. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michelle Obama has her arm around me. Squee! </td></tr>
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But, I promise, they will know. I will share stories of your honesty, your integrity, and your leadership skills with them. I will explain that when I had the great privilege of meeting you, Michelle, in 2009, when I worked at Children's National Medical Center I saw first hand that your kindness and compassion is not just a show; It is genuine and natural. At the time I was 8 1/2 months pregnant with Ryan. You asked me about my pregnancy. You put your hand on my belly, you wished me the best of luck. You didn't just go around and talk with patients and families. No, you sat with them, you engaged, you cared. </div>
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I know plenty of people disagree with the two of you on many issues. I know many people do not think as highly of you as I do. And honestly, I have a hard time understanding that. Politics aside, you are true role models for children and adults alike.<br />
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As you end your time in the White House, and begin to think about your legacy and the work you will do in the remainder of your careers, I challenge you to think of ways you can continue to have an impact on the youth of our world. I don't want any of my children to forget you. Please, remain in the public eye. Please continue to show the world what it means to be happy, confident, smart, fun, and kind. Show the world what it means to have integrity; to have strong beliefs and to stand up for what you believe. Don't hesitate to continue to be an example of a successful marriage raising successful children. Our Country and our world needs more of the two of you! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Craig Lassig/EPA </td></tr>
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President and Mrs. Obama, our world may not fully recognize it yet, but we have much to thank the two of you for. I think in the years to come it will be more and more obvious. I, for one, am most grateful to the two of you for putting a face on what it means to be compassionate and human, and for never making yourselves seem "above" the people you have served and represented during your time in office. I believe you think of yourselves just like the rest of us do: people doing the best we can, to do the best we can, in all we do. You have succeeded. Thank you. </div>
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With greatest admiration and appreciation, </div>
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Kristen Caminiti<br />
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Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-66874190630388566292016-03-16T13:37:00.001-04:002016-03-16T13:49:45.950-04:00When Lack of Life Experience = A Lack of Compassion I did it again. I responded to a friend of a friend on Facebook. I engaged in political discourse that is likely to go nowhere. But this time, it stuck with me.<br />
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A little background. This friend of mine on Facebook is one of my most reasonable and intelligent Facebook friends. Yes, he's also a Republican. And yes, we differ in political opinions quite a bit. But I always enjoy his comments on Facebook and often find myself seeking to understand his viewpoint because I respect him so much as a person. I know him to be kind, generous, and forward thinking. So, when we disagree, instead of saying, "He's so wrong! What an idiot!" I instead find myself wanting to better understand why he thinks what he thinks. Now, this friend, being reasonable, will often state his strong opinions but rarely engages in discussion or argument (he says such discussions are for the dinner table...I'm still waiting for our dinner date). I think he knows his blood pressure is better off because of this rule he has set for himself. But while this friend of mine is reasonable, his <i>friends </i>are not. And I often find my own blood boiling at the comments some of them make. There was one today, regarding a flat tax that I could not let stand. So, I responded, and an argument ensued. You can see it below through screen shots. I removed the name and profile pictures so as not to violate anyone's privacy:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Apologies for the language...I was fired up!)</td></tr>
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So, yes, I get it. After engaging in this long discourse with people I've never met and likely never will, I look like one of the "unreasonable friends" I spoke of above. But bare with me.<br />
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As I said, this discussion really stuck with me. I have never met either of these people. I know nothing about them, but, I have to assume that they have had very few (if any) real life encounters with hard working poor people. People who have made the best choices they can in life, given their life circumstances, and who <i>still</i> struggle to make enough money to support their families. And if they truly have never met and had the opportunity to <i>truly </i>get to know people who fall into this category then I get where they're coming from.<br />
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My world view was drastically different before I started my graduate degree in Social Work. During my training I had two of the most socially transformative experiences of my life.<br />
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First, I interned at a homeless shelter for families. In my role here I met weekly with mothers and fathers who were doing the best they could to provide for their children. These parents were employed. They weren't just sitting on the sidelines looking for a handout. Employment (or well documented disability) was a requirement of this particular program. These were hard-working, committed, and desperate parents. They wanted to do the best they could for their children but life had given them few choices and few opportunities, and so this is where they were. Many of them came from drug addicted parents. Some of them grew up in violent areas where leaving the house every day to get to school was putting one's life at risk, and thus they didn't finish school. Being desperate for money to provide for their families some (but not all by any means) had engaged in illegal activity--theft, prostitution, the sale of drugs-- and had convictions on their record that further limited the choices they now had. I was young, about 23 when I first had the privilege of meeting these brave, inspiring fellow humans. And because of my interactions with them, my world view changed dramatically.<br />
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Then, in my second year of internship I interned at Boston Children's Hospital in what was called the Advanced Fetal Care Center. Here I met with women who were pregnant and their partners. Each woman I met with was carrying a baby who had a life threatening abnormality or disease. I sat with mothers and fathers as they learned the most devastating news about their children. I sat with them as they agonized about the decisions they faced: 1) to continue with the pregnancy hoping the child survived to birth and hoping for a few minutes with their baby before he or she died, 2) to continue with the pregnancy with the plan to intervene in any way possible, hoping to save their child and give them a longer life, or 3) to terminate the pregnancy. None of these parents took these decisions lightly. All of the children they were carrying were wanted. But yes, for a host of reasons, all valid reasons, some of them chose to terminate the pregnancy. These brave women taught me that abortion is many things, but most of all it is a private, personal decision, and not one that our government should be involved in making.<br />
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Yes, as I said, I get it. I get how you can be so very certain of "the way things should be" until you are faced head on with the people behind the opposing viewpoint. I am one of the lucky ones. I have had these experiences I described above, and so many more in my career as a Social Worker that have brought humanity at its best and at its worst into focus for me and as a result my world view has changed for the better.<br />
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So, what do we do? How do we help the people of our Country to have more experiences with more people, who will help them to better understand that the world is not such a black and white place? I know high schools are trying to do it by requiring a service component to graduation, but clearly its not enough. Many colleges have wonderful social justice curriculum and volunteer opportunities, and yet, these efforts miss all those who never go to college. It must start younger, and it must include parents.<br />
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We must find a way to include children and parents together in encounters with people who live differently than they do. We must foster discussion, at an early age, about social injustice. I'm not particularly religious, but I know and understand the valuable role that churches can play in this effort and we must challenge church leadership to truly embrace the spirit of Jesus and show care and concern for the least of our people. Our churches must get more people involved in service and <u><i>must</i> </u>engage their congregations not just in service of others, but more importantly, interactions with others. I fear as a society that we will not change for the better until the majority of our citizens have an opportunity to interact with a wide variety of people from different classes, races, ethnicities, and cultures. We are a Country of many. We must step outside our own little bubble and get to know the many as best as we can. Then, and only then, will we be able to develop a truly compassionate, caring majority who seeks, as I've written about <a href="http://kcamfam.blogspot.com/2016/03/teach-your-children-well.html" target="_blank">before</a>, to do the most good, for the most people.<br />
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<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-36428792189470103542016-03-08T21:13:00.002-05:002016-03-08T21:13:32.079-05:00Teach Your Children Well Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young said it first back in 1970. But the message is just as important, if not more so, now. Is there a greater responsibility in this world than to teach our children well? To teach them how to care for each other, for themselves, for this planet?<br />
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I've been thinking about all of this a lot lately in light of the political vitriol that is surrounding all of us these days during the Presidential Primary Election. Anyone who knows me personally knows I am very passionate about the things I believe in most strongly. I don't hesitate to speak up and say how I feel. And lately, I have been utterly disgusted by the display of inhumanity that has been the GOP primary season. Yes, I am a Democrat. But, I am also an American. And regardless of one's political affiliation I think it is obvious that the hatred, dishonesty, and bigotry that is on display in recent months is unacceptable and repulsive. And yet, apparently its not so obvious because he who does not deserve to be named is getting more and more votes.<br />
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4 years ago, on election day, when my oldest son was not yet 3 and my middle son was not yet born I wrote <a href="http://kcamfam.blogspot.com/2012/11/on-caring-for-real-people.html" target="_blank">this letter</a> to my children. At the time I felt so positive and uplifted about our Country and my State. It seemed likely that we would re-elect a man who I believe is one of the best, most human, intelligent, and honest Presidents our nation will ever see. It was also looking as if Maryland would become the first State to legalize gay marriage by a vote of the people. Both those things came true. Barack Obama was overwhelmingly reelected and the people of Maryland voted to legalize Gay Marriage. I could not have been more proud. But I wrote this letter before I knew these results. In this letter spoke to my children about the importance of election day. I spoke not of democrats or republicans. I didn't even mention who I was voting for. But I spoke of voting for the people and the issues that will do the <b>most good for the most people </b>in our nation and world<b>. </b><br />
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This is something I still <i>strongly</i> believe needs to be behind every person's decision when they vote. I may have a difficult time understanding "the other side" sometimes, but if you can convince me that you truly believe your favorite politician's efforts have at heart, doing the <i>most</i> good for the <i>most people, </i>then you have my ear. I understand that there can be different approaches to the same goal. And so, I can respect and value any person or politician who truly seeks to improve the state of being for as many people as possible. Not just the wealthy. Not just men. Not just white people. But, all people. At the same time, I understand that we can't please everyone all the time. That's why I am OK with taxing the wealthy to care for the poor. I'm OK with taking away guns from those with the potential for violence in order to protect the majority of people (hell, I'm OK with taking away everyone's guns to protect all people....but, I know that's unlikely to happen). I understand that sometimes, in very rare circumstances the lives of our brave soldiers must be sacrificed in order to bring safety to a majority of people. And because our leaders have to make decisions about such profound issues like the life of a fellow human being, they must have goodness at their core. I'm not saying any leader will ever please everyone all the time. I'm not saying that mistakes won't be made. But in order to earn my vote, you <i>must</i> convince me that your underlying and overarching goal in all decisions you make has at its heart the well being of the majority of humanity.<br />
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And while I ardently disagree with the approach of the vast majority of Republicans in achieving this goal of the most good for the most people, I do believe that there are GOP politicians who share this same goal. But this year? This election season? Nope. Not one. I do not believe for a second that a single person running to be the leader of our great Nation from the Republican party has this as their goal.<br />
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One cannot want to build a wall, or prevent all Muslims from entering the United States, or limit a woman's right to make decisions about her own body, or support at all costs an organization whose sole goal is to sell as many guns as possible, and still convince me that you have the best interests of the people you will serve at heart.<br />
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As Americans we have a responsibility to elect a leader who will support us in teaching our children well. Someone who will support our efforts to teach our children what it means to be kind, empathetic, and honest. Someone who our children can look up to as an example of good in the world. Someone who, 10 years down the line you will be proud to tell your children, "Yes! I voted for him/her!" Someone who might make mistakes, who may have faltered at times, but who genuinely sought to be kind to the people closest to them, and to those they never met.<br />
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There is no greater resource in achieving greatness for our communities, our nation, our world, than our children. If we cannot with confidence lead our children in the direction of kindness, compassion, and honesty, then we have nothing as a society to hope for.<br />
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So, I implore you. I beg you, please, when you go to the polls this primary season and in the general election, vote for the individual who will support you in teaching your children what it means to be a good citizen of this earth.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-73377687908304923192016-03-08T11:43:00.001-05:002016-03-08T11:54:24.837-05:00Potty Training: If its difficult, just STOP! <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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I get it. I really get it. Changing diapers suuuuuucks.
Paying for diapers suuuuuucks. Trying to find a container that doesn’t emit the smell of the stinky diapers into the baby’s
room is nearly impossible. I get it. You want your baby to be potty trained
yesterday. And you’ve been working on it, and he’s not getting it. She had 17
accidents yesterday and you didn’t even know it was possible to go to the
bathroom 17 times in one day! You are Facebooking like mad asking all your
fellow mommy friends what their potty training secrets are. You’re desperate to
be DONE. WITH. DIAPERS. I get it. But really, if it’s not happening easily, please just give
up. I promise you, potty training should not be a battle. It shouldn’t make you
or your child miserable. How do I know? Well, I’ve had a little experience.</div>
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I have a three year old (and a 6 year old and an 17 month
old). A few months ago, my Facebook feed and many of the threads on “Mom
Groups” I am in were taken over by moms who were overwhelmed with potty
training. I read these exasperated, desperate comments and thought, “Huh. It
wasn’t hard for us.” But that was when I’d only potty trained one kiddo, and
so, I was able to convince myself that the ease with which he trained
(literally, in a day) was a fluke. We were just one of the “lucky ones.” </div>
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But, all this potty talk made me realize that my second born
little guy was approaching the age his older brother was when he was trained (2
years, 8 months) and so, I decided to give it a go. A few things you should know: My oldest is a typical oldest.
He, for the most part aims to please, he follows rules well (<i>most</i> of the time...), and he never met a
challenge that he wasn’t going to take on full force. So, the fact that he
potty trained easily was no surprise to me, really.</div>
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My second little guy is very different from his brother. He
is sweet and lovable but cares very little about what others think of him. He’s
not out to impress <i>anyone.</i> Back in
the fall, when we were doing back to school shopping for his big brother, Ryan,
I grabbed a pack of underwear and tossed it in the cart. Realizing they had
BOTH Minion underwear and Paw Patrol underwear (two of Zach’s FAVORITES) I
looked at Zachary and said, “Zachary, don’t you want to wear underwear like a
big boy? Look! You could choose any pack you want!” Zach looked at me
defiantly, and said, “No, Mama! I not wear underwear. I wear diapers.” When I
would ask him if he wanted to learn to go on the potty he’d say, “Ummmm, maybe.
But…not yet,” as he squinted his eyes, tilted his head to the side a bit, and
shook his head in an adamant “no”. To say I had low expectations for his potty
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But, HE DID IT! He did it in a day. In the first three weeks
of training he had a total of three accidents, all within the first few days.
He even stayed dry during naps and even all through the night practically right
from the start. He not only exceeded my expectations but he blew them out of
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So, what’s my point, you ask? My point is, <b>if potty training is hard, it’s not time. You’re
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This is not me being judgmental. This is me trying to make
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<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>If it’s hard, just stop.<br />
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If he isn’t telling you when he has to go, just stop. You reminding him to go every 15 minutes or making him sit on the potty for 30 minutes at a time until a few drops dribble out does not mean your child is potty trained. It means you are.<br />
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If she’s fighting you on it, just stop.<br />
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If you’re miserable, just stop.<br />
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If your kid is miserable, just stop.<br />
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If you’re petrified to leave the house because your child might have an accident, just stop.<br />
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If you’re arguing with your spouse about how this is supposed to work, just stop.<br />
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If you feel like your kid is going to go to college in Pull-ups, just stop.<br />
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If you have to stay by your kid’s side every second of every day in order to notice the most subtle of subtle cues that she has to go, then, please, just STOP. </div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">So, now what? You’ve taken my
advice, you’ve stopped the potty training that is clearly not going well, what
now? You can’t leave your kid in diapers forever. (Or could you? Sometimes
diapers are just </span><i style="text-indent: -0.25in;">so</i><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> convenient). But
seriously, most schools require a child to be potty trained so the “Diapers
forever!!” approach isn’t going to work. </span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I suggest just pretending like the
whole potty training thing never happened. Come back to it in a few months once your kid is a bit older, and you’ve had a chance to develop a
strategy that works for you and your child. I’m not going to suggest that my
strategy is the absolute best. I’m sure there are many approaches that have
worked for many kids. But, having potty trained two very different kids, both
in less than a day, I know it does not have to be a long, drawn-out, miserable,
makes you want to pull all your hair out, process. </span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">When the kid is ready, and
the technique effective, it should be easy and quick. I’ve talked to a lot of
other moms and they agree that all kids get to a point when they are “ready.”
That time is different for every kid. And yes, if you push it before they’re
really ready, you will eventually be successful, but will it be worth it? Will it have been worth the tears and frustration? It should not be an agonizing
process. It should be a process that ends in lots of high fives for your little
one (perhaps a few too many M&Ms) and the glorious realization that you now
have a little extra money in the bank every month! And no, your kid isn’t potty
trained if that extra money is being spent on Febreeze, pull-ups, and laundry
detergent. Nope, you should be able to take that extra cash and enjoy a few
extra lattes. You’ve earned it. </span><br />
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><i>P.S. I am fully aware that because I wrote this and put it out in the world that my 3rd kid is going to be a nightmare to potty train. Either way, you can be sure I'll write about it. </i></span></div>
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Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-15183921039753303812016-02-23T16:32:00.001-05:002016-02-23T16:32:45.586-05:00Above Average Average <span style="font-family: inherit;">In a February 18th article in the Washington Post, Erica Reischer published an article entitled "No, honey, you can't be anything you want to be. And that's ok." I read this article first in my edition of the Post that gets delivered every day and then I saw it popping up repeatedly in my Facebook feed. Some people whole-heartedly agreed with it, others stated "whatever could be wrong with telling our children they can be anything they want to be?" (You can find the article <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/parenting/wp/2016/02/18/no-honey-you-cant-be-anything-you-want-to-be-and-thats-okay/" target="_blank">here.</a>) I fell into the "whole-heartedly agree" camp. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The basic premise of the article is that there is more than hard work and determination involved in success. There are things like chance, and bad (or good) luck. Ms. Reischer explains that in teaching our children that their success is simply dependent on working hard enough, wanting it enough, or believing we can do it enough that we are in fact potentially causing harm. She states, "<span style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">When they fail at something (as inevitably we
all will) children who don’t recognize the significant role of random chance in
determining life’s outcomes may blame themselves or stop trying...</span><span style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">Conversely, those who do achieve prominent
success may overestimate their role in it, and see those who have more average
resumes as inferio<span style="font-family: inherit;">r or less deserving." In other words, we are potentially creating self-loathing children, or possibly worse: arrogant, condescending children. </span></span><span style="color: #111111; line-height: 18.4px;">Reischer goes on to say, "</span><span style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">When we create a mindset that high achievement
is better than being average–that high achievers are more special or
deserving–we diminish kids’ ability to value both themselves and others."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I think there is a balance to be found between encouraging children to "reach for the stars" and giving them a realistic view of what is likely based on the way the world works. There is a way to support our children's dreams while also teaching them that yes, sometimes the stars do not align and we don't always </span></span><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="line-height: 18.4px;">achieve</span></span><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> what we set out to. </span></span><br />
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I am reminded of my college application process. I had my hopes set on attending the same University my older brothers had. In many ways, it was all I knew, and being so in awe of my older brothers as I was, in my head (from the time I was 12 years old and first set foot on the campus) I was convinced it was the ONLY place to go. When it came time to apply I thought for certain I would get in. Both of my brothers had been exceptionally successful at this University (thus, they'd proven the good pedigree of our family!) and I had higher SATs than one brother and a higher GPA than the other. I had a wider variety of extracurricular activities than both of them. I'd worked hard my entire high school career and it seemed obvious, inevitable really, that I would get in. You can see where this is going. I didn't get in. There was no logical reason for me not to be accepted, but luck was not on my side. I was devastated.<br />
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But at the same time, my parents (equally devastated, perhaps) had prepared me for this possibility. Encouraging me to think of "my own path" and to look at other "fabulous universities, just in case." They knew my "resume" as well as I did. But they also knew the world doesn't always work out the way we hope it will and they tried as much as they could to prepare me for such possibilities. So, my devastation turned to defiance and I headed off to Boston College, an equally exceptional University, with the confidence and swagger of a newly minted college Freshman who was going to show "that other school" just how wrong they were. I excelled, and was often rewarded for my hard work, long hours in the library, and dedication with awards from the University, two prestigious fellowship offers, and letters of recommendation from professors that still make me blush when I read them.<br />
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But what did I do with all that success? Did I become a CEO of a leading company? Did I become a doctor? Or an astronaut? Or a world renowned feminist who educates humanity on how to best serve the girls and women of the world? No, I became a social worker. And now, I am social worker who is a mostly stay at home mom to three beautiful boys. And I could <i>not </i>be more proud of what I have accomplished and what I have done with my life.<br />
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I grew up in a home with two "very successful" parents. My dad, among other things, was an executive at a small, Catholic hospital. My mom was a teacher who had spent 12 years as a stay at home mom in the middle of her career. I learned very young that these were noble, and indeed, very successful ways to live life. Early on it was clear that success was not measured in wealth or by title but by how you treat the people closest to you. In addition, it was always clear to us how lucky we were to even be able to consider the Universities my brothers and I each considered as we applied to college. Yes, we came out with significant loans, but already life had dealt us a lucky hand in so very many ways.<br />
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When I was a kid, I wanted to be a doctor. But when I was in high school I realized that more than anything I wanted to be a mom. And I knew that the rigors of medicine would likely not allow me to stay home with my children in their early years. And so, I began to explore other careers, and in doing so,discovered social work. There was no part of me that felt I <i>had</i> to be a doctor in order to view myself--or be viewed by others--as successful. I knew that it was most important to do what defined success to <i>me</i> and that was being able to stay home and raise my children while also pursuing a career that would allow me to bare witness and support others.<br />
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Social work allowed me to work in medicine, a field I loved and still do, as a pediatric medical social worker, and gave me the privilege of supporting families and children during their darkest hours. Other than raising my own children, there is nothing I am more proud of than having been able to make the worst thing a family will ever experience: the illness and sometimes death of a child, just a <i>little</i> less painful.<br />
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You see, too often our children receive the message that in order to be "great" they have to be a Supreme <span style="font-family: inherit;">Court Justice, or president of a company, a sports star, or the leader of the free world. But this is not the case. <span style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">We need </span><i style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">excellent</i><span style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">
people to do </span><i style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">average </i><span style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;">jobs: We need
exceptional plumbers, honest reporters, eager teachers, construction workers
with a keen attention to detail, talented landscapers, kind daycare providers, creative web designers, and sensitive, caring social workers, mothers, fathers, and grandparents. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #111111; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">The vast majority of people in the world are indeed "average" in the ways that society most often defines success: intelligence, income, influence. But it is possible to be exceptional in so many other ways: kindness, generosity, creativity, compassion, and empathy, just to name a few. So, perhaps the greatest lesson that we can teach our </span></span><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="line-height: 18.4px;">children</span></span><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> is </span></span><i style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">not</i><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> that they can be anything they want to be, but rather, that there are <i>so very many ways</i> to be exceptional. We will create kinder, more confident children, and a better human race if as parents we instead focus on finding and embracing the unique characteristics of our children that will allow them to be most successful in their little corner of the world. And then perhaps, as a society we will learn to value the honest plumber, dedicated teacher, selfless stay at home parent, and caring social worker just as much as the sports stars, astronauts, and CEOs. </span></span><br />
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Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-71574316243647933422016-01-15T11:44:00.000-05:002016-03-04T12:10:00.025-05:00Zachary Joseph: 3 years! <br />
My Dearest Zachary,<br />
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Today you turn 3 years old. I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. It was the day I learned that my heart could grow exponentially in just a matter of moments. The night before you were born I was worried about how I could love two little people as much as I already loved Ryan. I truly had nothing to worry about! My heart felt like it might burst the day I met you and it has grown even more every day since you came into our family.<br />
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Zachary, you are a feisty, snuggly, silly, funny, kind, thoughtful, sensitive, smart little boy whom we are so proud to call ours. You give fierce hugs, you love to "nuggle" (your word for snuggle) and you show love and joy (and anger and frustration :) with so much passion.<br />
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This past year you have truly blossomed! Your language took off like crazy. When the year started I was a little worried about the number of words you had. Now, you constantly talk and tell us what you think. You ask excellent questions, and your attention to detail about the way the world around you works is astounding. We always had a sense that you "were taking it all in" but now that you communicate so clearly and effectively you're able to let us know that we were correct! For example, you notice immediately if someone got a haircut. The other day, I came home from getting my haircut and you said, as soon as I walked in the door "Your hair looks so pretty, Mommy! I like it!" This is a gift, Zachary. May you always notice these things. Your spouse will one day thank you! You also notice if one of your brothers gets something you didn't and you quickly speak up to correct this miscarriage of justice. You notice the most minute details on cars and when we see a van just like ours you'll often say something like, "That van like ours...but not ours! Different wheels! (or lights, or bumper, etc). You never confuse a car of the same color but different make as being like ours. You are now recognizing letters and you find "Zs for Zachary!" everywhere we go. Its so much fun to see the results of those little wheels inside your brain turning!<br />
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In addition to being a smart and inquisitive little guy you are also extremely kind and caring. You are always looking out for your little brother, and if he's doing something that you think looks dangerous you will say, "Mama, get him! Connor could get hurt!" (Though, you don't say Connor...the way you say it sounds more like "Donna." A part of me hopes you never master that hard C sound.) You love Ryan so much and to this day, if you're given two of something (a treat, a small toy, etc) you immediately run to share one with Ryan, even if they were both intended for you. You give fierce "monkey hugs" and say "Uh ooh <i>too</i>" (Love you too!) in the sweetest, kindest, most heart-melting way. I must say, "I love you!" 100 times a day just to hear your sweet "Uh ooh <i>too</i>" response. You can say "<b>l</b>ove <b>y</b>ou too" but it has become habit for you to just say it in your little kid way, and once again, I hope you never stop. "Uh ooh <i>too!" </i>is the best thing I hear all day!<br />
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As exceptional as you are in some ways, you're also very much a three year old in many ways. One of your favorite words of all time is "poopie." You'll find any excuse to use it and when someone else uses it, especially NeeNee, you think it is HYSTERICAL! Your giggle is one of the most joyful sounds I've ever heard and yes, I've been known to say poopie on occasion as well just to hear that glorious sound of your giggle.<br />
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You also eat very much like a toddler. You LOOOOOVE foods that you love. The problem is, you only truly love about five foods: Macaroni and cheese, waffles, yogurt, steelcut oatmeal, and peanut butter (but not on a sandwich, just by itself on a spoon). You'll tolerate strawberries and mandarin oranges, and sometimes bananas. You won't touch a vegetable unless it is snuck into a pouch (thank god for whoever invented those things!) or a homemade smoothie, which we make often and fortunately you love. You detest any type of meat. I mean what kid doesn't love Chick Fil A chicken nuggets?!?!?!?! You, that's who. I have to believe that one day you will be a more adventurous eater. Auntie Catharine is convinced you're going to be a famous chef one day. You do love to help me cook! But that whole "let them help prepare the meal and they'll eat it!" adage is total and complete BS with you. You'll gladly and excitedly help. But you usually do so while exclaiming "dat smell hoooorrrrrrible!" Its clear you have very sensitive taste buds. One day, if you do become that famous chef, I'll be sure to be your biggest supporter and strongest critic. Let's see how you like it when I taste your famous filet mignon in a truffle reduction sauce and exclaim, "Oh, that's horrible!" Yeah, paybacks buddy....paybacks.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gbIvRtuaxW0/Vtm8QD-bVoI/AAAAAAAAEVs/RtLYluebt1s/s1600/2016-01-20%2B12.39.59-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gbIvRtuaxW0/Vtm8QD-bVoI/AAAAAAAAEVs/RtLYluebt1s/s320/2016-01-20%2B12.39.59-1.jpg" width="261" /></a>So, while your love of food is limited, your love of animals is vast. Recently, for your and Ryan's birthday (we got them a bit early) we got two pet rats, Rizzy (Ryan's) and Ryder (yours). It was Ryan who <i>really</i> wanted them. You just sort of seemed to jump on the band wagon. But since getting them you have proven to be an exceptional pet owner, especially for a three year old. You like to hold them and play with them and you are so very, very gentle and kind with them. Watching you with Ryder and Rizzy makes their smelly, stinky cage that drives me crazy all worth it.<br />
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In addition to animals you love your family. You're very much a home body. You're most content being home with the people you love most, me, Daddy, Ryan, and Connor and playing a game or watching a movie while snuggled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. But you love your NeeNee and PopPop fiercely as well and you get sooooo excited when they come over. Your cousins adore you and you in turn get excited any time they come to visit. Julia and Caitlin dote on you with such sweetness and James seems to look up to you. He loves to give you spontaneous hugs.<br />
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This past summer and fall we lived with NeeNee and PopPop for 4 months. And while it wasn't easy on any of us (most especially on NeeNee and PopPop) I have to say, you were amazing. You went with the flow more than I think most 2 year olds would have and you proved that as long as you're surrounded by the people you love, you'll be just fine. Yes, you certainly had more tantrums than normal (and that's saying something because you're a very emotional kid and you show STRONG emotions when you're frustrated or angry) but overall, you did really well. I mean, what kid learns how to potty train in <i>one day </i>while in the midst of the biggest change they've been through in their life? You do, that's who! You mastered potty training literally, in a day back in August. It was amazing. And for that and so many other reasons and I couldn't be prouder of you.<br />
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Though you did <i>great</i> while at NeeNee and PopPop's, I have to say, since moving into our own home its been a joy to watch you blossom even more. It's clear you are glad we have our own home again. You're thrilled that we have all our stuff back. You no longer have to ask "it in storage??" when you can't find something that's missing. And when you see something in our new house that was also in our old house you often say, "Dis just like our old house! We have dis der too!" It is all very exciting for your newly minted little three year old self!<br />
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There are so many things about the world that you love so much, in addition to your favorite people. You <i>love</i> books and would sit and have books read to you for hours. You especially like the "Piggie and Elephant" books by Mo Willems and you can "read" many of them by yourself now and it is just so darn, adorable. You read with different voices for each character and with the same emotion and inflection that I use when I read. Sometimes I wonder if you might enjoy acting when you're older. You're sometimes a little shy, but when given the proper venue and audience, you shine! You thoroughly enjoy playing games and you are able to follow the rules correctly in a way that far exceeds your age. You love "Hi Ho Cherry-O," "The Cat in the Hat, I can do that!" and "Busytown" the most. We're just starting to play UNO with you and you're getting it more and more every day. You'll be beating me and Daddy in no time! (Just don't beat Ryan....he would have a difficult time with that!). You continue to love trains and this year chose a Polar Express themed birthday party. If we let you, you'd watch that movie every day of the year. But, fortunately, just after your birthday Zerk (our elf) brought it back to the North Pole. Don't worry, he will return it close to Christmas time! You've picked up on Ryan's Star Wars fever and you love learning about the different characters and you too enjoyed going to the theater with me, Ryan, and Uncle Mark to watch Episode 7. You may have fallen asleep for some of it, but when you were awake, you loved it!<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5h3CFyY9ooo/Vtm7nkiVrbI/AAAAAAAAEVY/ItXHXoK1_iE/s1600/2015-06-16%2B16.32.08-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5h3CFyY9ooo/Vtm7nkiVrbI/AAAAAAAAEVY/ItXHXoK1_iE/s320/2015-06-16%2B16.32.08-2.jpg" width="320" /></a>You also love to run and play and jump and just be active. You're an amazing climber and you can scale a playground with no help at all. You love to do the fire pole and you love big slides. You can do the monkey bars by yourself but you insist that I be right there when you do it. You're always trying to keep up with Ryan, and you manage to do a pretty great job! You learned to ride your scooter this year and you are a PRO! You zoom along so quickly when you ride it! Its really quite impressive. When we were at NeeNee and PopPop's we went for a walk almost every day and you would always choose to ride your scooter. You scootered so much that you wore a huge hole in the front of your right shoe!<br />
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And yet, as active as you are, and as much as you desperately want to be a "big boy" you are also still very much by baby. You still use a pacifier (that's going to have to go in the next few months) and you still have mommy snuggle next to you at every nap and at bedtime in order to fall asleep. These are things that yes, we will have to transition you away from in the coming year (yes, I have things I'd like to do besides lay next to you all night long) but I'll soak in those extra snuggles for as long as I can. You won't be little forever and one day, I will long to have you snuggle next to me so you can fall asleep.<br />
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So, my sweet boy, in these early days of your life I am doing my best to enjoy every moment and treasure the snuggles and cuddles, because I know they won't last forever. But, my love and pride for you is something that will most certainly last forever! Happy 3rd birthday sweet boy! I love you more than you will ever know!<br />
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Love always,<br />
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MommyKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-2792354618030409122016-01-07T22:27:00.000-05:002016-01-07T22:27:07.529-05:00Ryan James: 6! Dear Ryan,<br />
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Two thousand, one hundred and 90 days ago you came into this world. You did not come willingly or on time (you were 9 days late, and came via c-section after all the pitocin (a special medicine given to mommies to help get the baby to come out) in the world didn't make you budge, not even one little millimeter) but ever since you have been here you have nestled yourself into our hearts and our lives and we can't imagine life without you.<br />
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This past year was a year full of much change for you. We put the only home you ever knew up for sale. Throughout this process you were excellent at reminding your brothers, "We can't make a mess so someone will buy this house!" and you were helpful in running around and cleaning up whenever someone wanted to come look at the house at the last minute. After a few weeks, someone wanted to buy the house and we had to move out a lot quicker than we expected. On July 2nd (mine and Daddy's 10th wedding anniversary....what a way to celebrate! ;) we moved into NeeNee and PopPop's house for the next four months. We were so grateful to have their home opened up to us, and in many ways, it was the perfect "second home," but living there was harder on you than I expected. You were used to your beloved NeeNee and PopPop only seeing you at your absolute best, and even the best kids like you have rough moments. And it was hard for you to have those moments in front of two people you adore so much. But, you persevered and so did we right along side you.<br />
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Then, in August you started Kindergarten. You had to "commute" to Kindergarten while we lived with NeeNee and PopPop and I thought for sure you would come home every day grouchy and tired and miserable. But you didn't. Not even once. Watching you walk into school on your very first day, barely looking back to give me a quick wave, I swelled with pride. Here you were, in the midst of the biggest changes you'd experienced to date in your short little life and you were just rocking it. And you've been rocking school every day since. You are inquisitive, eager, and creative. You want to learn and you're doing a fantastic job.<br />
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Finally, on November 11th we moved into our beautiful new home, and watching you continue to blossom as we were once again in our own space has been a joy. You are back to your old self, and it makes my heart so happy to see you growing and developing into such a kind, independent, confident, loving, thoughtful, and inquisitive little man.<br />
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Being in our new house one of my favorite things has been watching the way your relationships with your brothers are growing. In our new house you have space to play independently and come up with fun games together. You wrestle and argue, and play, and jump, bounce and run. You ride bikes and chase each other around inside and out because there is plenty of room to do all those things. You certainly have your moments when your brothers drive you crazy, but most of the time I can tell the three of you really do love each other and there is <i>nothing </i>that brings me greater happiness than watching those relationships develop. Remember, they're the only brothers you've got. One day, they will be the people who knew you longer than anyone else. They will be your links to the past and the future and I hope you cherish those relationships forever. Zachary and Connor look up to you so much. They want to be like you. And Ryan, if you keep on the track you're on now, then they couldn't have a better role model.<br />
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And yet, I write all this, not to make you sound perfect. You're not. You have your faults as we all do, and as I would expect you to. You hate to lose, and you get frustrated when you do. We're working on that. You don't always listen the first time, but, you're improving. You sometimes talk back in a way that Daddy and I find disrespectful. Sometimes you're a little too rough when playing with Zachary. But one of the biggest signs of your growth is your own realization when you've made a mistake and the increasing frequency with which you apologize on your own, and that, makes me a very, very proud Mama.<br />
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Recently, in a continuing sign of how much older you are, Daddy and I agreed to let you get your first pet (besides Rocky the beta fish who bit the dust shortly after we moved out of our old house....RIP Rocky). So, this year, for your birthday, you got two pet rats, yes...rats. Rizzy and Ryder (we let Zach name one...even though we all know they're really both yours) joined our family a week and a half ago and so far, they're proving pretty fun. They're still getting used to us, but even Daddy and I think they're cute, and I love watching you care for them and enjoy them. They'll be a learning experience for sure.<br />
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When I write these posts I try to take time to talk about what it is you most like and enjoy. You played soccer on a team this year for the first time and while you didn't <i>love</i> it, you enjoyed it and were very proud of the trophy you got (which I explained was for being a good sport and working hard, because, the whole "everyone gets a trophy no matter what thing" is just ridiculous. ;) And a few weeks ago you started basketball, and I am your assistant coach. You seem to like basketball more than soccer and that couldn't make me happier. I secretly hope this is a love we will share. </div>
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But, if I had to list one thing, that you love more than anything else I would say you love people, specifically, your family. If you could, you would choose to spend your days surrounded by those you love the most: Daddy, me, Zachary, & Connor, your beloved cousins Caitlin and Julia, NeeNee & PopPop, and your Aunts and Uncles who adore you. You'd have Grandma and Grandpa visit every weekend and you'd share all your favorite things with all of these favorite people as often as possible: Star Wars, riding bikes/scooters (though we still need to work on getting those training wheels off), making pearler bead creations, learning about volcanoes and space, going on treasure hunts, eating pizza and chicken tenders.</div>
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Earlier this year, two days after we moved out of our old house we went on vacation with our entire family to Bethany Beach. This added to the chaos and unpredictability of life at the time, but you loved every minute of "having all the people [you] love all in one big house," as you so aptly put it. I love the way you love your family so much. It is truly heartwarming. When we returned from that vacation, you would cry every night at bedtime for a week or so because you "just missed everyone being together so much." Weeks later, when you came across a stuffed animal you won while on vacation the tears started again and you explained, "I just had so much fun being with everyone." It wasn't what we did on vacation that you loved so much. It was who we were with, and I just love that about you. I hope this love of family is something you carry with you forever.</div>
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And while you adore your family members, your circle of people you're becoming comfortable with and wanting to spend time with is growing. You don't think twice about spending a few hours outside with our new neighbors. You love getting to go to Mrs. Becky's house to play with Emily, Drew, and "Madz," and you love being in school with your teacher and classmates. You've had sleepovers at Auntie Catharine's and Uncle Mark's (where eating a whole bag of skittles was the highlight!) and NeeNee and PopPop's and the fact that you are comfortable being away from us is a sign of your maturity and growth. </div>
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Ryan James DeBoy Caminiti, when you were growing in my belly I had so many dreams of the person you would become. So far, you are more amazing than I ever dreamed you would be. I cannot wait to watch you grow over the many decades ahead of us. I believe in you completely. I know if you continue to persevere, to seek joy, to ask good questions, to notice when people are being unkind, and choose not to just sit back when you notice that, to love, be respectful, and follow your heart in all you do, then without a doubt, there are amazing things ahead. I am so privileged to have a front row seat.<br />
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Happy 6th birthday, sweet boy! As you told me the other night, "I love you to the farthest planet in the universe that they haven't even discovered yet, and back!"<br />
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Always,<br />
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MamaKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-56026633853904155722015-12-23T13:04:00.002-05:002015-12-23T13:25:58.054-05:00Why You Won't Find Us in Church this Christmas <br />
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To be fair, my husband and I are not very religious. We were both raised Catholic, we went to Boston College, one of the top Catholic Universities in the Country, but to say we have grown disillusioned with our Church of late is an understatement. Additionally, with the strong theological background I got from Boston College, and being raised in a family where questioning was encouraged, I can honestly say, there is <i>much</i> about the Catholic faith I no longer believe. And yet, if you asked me, I would still identify as Catholic. Being Catholic is not just about the doctrine to me, it is also very cultural. Much of my childhood is wrapped up in the traditions of my family's Catholic faith and <i>that </i>is indeed something that is important to me and something my husband and I both want to pass on to our children. So, while we rarely go to church, we still see the value in a Church community. We have the intention of going to church more regularly when our children are older and can get more out of it. But presently, it is not how we choose to spend our Sunday mornings. But, we have always made a point to go on the "big days." Yes, we are one of the "hypocrites" (as my father-in-law would call us) that make it difficult for all the regular church-goers to get a seat on Christmas and Easter.<br />
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For the past 5 years we have traipsed each of our kids (currently almost 6, almost 3, and 14 months) to mass on Christmas eve. We get dressed in our dressy Christmas clothes. We get there early (at least 30 minutes) to try to get a seat, though we never do. If we got there early enough to get a seat (<i>at least </i>an hour) our kids would be DONE before mass even started. So, we cram into the back of the church where our kids can't see anything and have to stand. We try to engage them. We explain what is happening. We lift them up to watch the beautiful Christmas pageant that is so well done by the kids, but they can neither see nor hear very well. We try to be overly enthusiastic when singing songs in order to keep their attention. And despite all our best efforts we each end up taking turns walking the kids around outside, trying to distract them, and feeding them Cheerios. No one really gets anything out of it. My husband and I had a long chat about how we could spend this time in a more meaningful way. So, this year will be different.<br />
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On Christmas Eve during the time that we would be going to church, we will instead be taking our children to a homeless shelter for women and children that serves our local community. We will go to Sarah's House and bring food, diapers, and toys for each of the 30 children who currently call this shelter home. This past Sunday the boys shopped with Daddy for the food, taking the time to talk about what kind of healthy food we should get, while including a few kid friendly snacks like Goldfish. Yesterday they shopped for diapers with me, and we also picked out 30 small toys. Ryan and Zachary were so engaged in choosing small toys that "any kid" could like since we don't know the ages of the kids. At one point I said, "what can we get for the babies?" Clearly, the fact that we had bought diapers hadn't really clicked with Ryan yet and he said, "Babies live there? There are babies who don't have a home?" The sadness and hurt on his little face was heartbreaking. And yet, he then immediately got to searching for the perfect toy for a baby, while also realizing that we don't know how many babies there are. So, he chose a collection of balls saying, "Babies love balls! But big kids can have fun with them too!" He turned his sadness about the realization that yes, there are babies that don't have a home into action. And that is a skill I hope my boys will carry with them far in life.<br />
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In addition to the toys, food, and diapers, Ryan, Zachary and I have been working on 30 hand made cards to go with each of the toys. We've talked a lot about how living in a homeless shelter, despite being surrounded by other people can be a very lonely experience. We've talked about how sometimes the people who live there might feel forgotten, and that by making these cards and giving these gifts we hope that each of the children and their parents will feel a little less forgotten this Christmas.<br />
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Our intent is to make this a tradition each Christmas for our family. I also hope to volunteer at this shelter with the boys throughout the year so that when we donate at Christmas time, it is a tangible place that they know and have a relationship with.<br />
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None of this is to say that Church isn't meaningful. And certainly, we could go to church <b>and </b>do what we're doing for the shelter, and one day, when the kids are a bit older, we will do both. But for now, this is what makes sense for our family. We will begin our Christmas Eve with the reading of the book I created for the kids the first year I was a mom. It's called "The True Meaning of Christmas" and it is a book that talks about how Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus. We've read this book often. But we will read it again. It explains that we celebrate Jesus' birth because he was a good man, who treated everyone with kindness and compassion, and who taught others how to live the same way. It doesn't even mention Jesus being the son of God...because if we're being honest, I'm not certain he is. I'll leave it to my kids to decide for themselves what they believe. But at the very least, I can <i>fully</i> embrace celebrating Christmas as a way to remember a man who lived life the way we should all seek to live our lives: in the service of the greater good. And so, this Christmas, my kids won't hear the Nativity story at mass. But they will experience a little taste of what it means to live like Jesus...and that, that is what Christmas is all about.<br />
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<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-68241924657342677472015-10-01T13:43:00.000-04:002015-12-21T13:45:52.225-05:00Connor Matthew: 1 Year! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Dearest Connor, </div>
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Today you turned 1! Yes, one YEAR old! I spent much of today
looking back at pictures and video of you being born. It was an amazing day…One
I will never forget. I realized as I was looking at these pictures that I never
really shared the video of your birth. Initially I didn’t because we weren’t
supposed to take video. But, I’m fairly certain that ever since the story of
your birth aired on NPR, with audio from the video we took that most of the
world knows we recorded it. So, I’ve made a special video for you. <i>(For anyone viewing it, it is a video of a
surgery. So, there is blood. And yes, it is a video of a birth, so my chest is
bare. Don’t watch if either of those things offend or bother you). </i>Every
time I watch this video I cry tears of joy. Connor, your birth was an AMAZING
day. And Daddy and I are so very happy we got to spend your very first minutes
on this earth, with you, together. </div>
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But as amazing as those early minutes were, the past year
has been even better. You are just a joy to be around. I call you “Happy Connor
C” when I tag pictures of you on Instagram and it continues to be true. You are
rarely sad. The only times you cry are if you’re tired or hungry, and even
then, you’re amazingly tolerant of our busy life with three boys that has you
eating and sleeping on much less of a schedule than your older brothers were
ever on. You’re a happy little guy who is happy to go wherever we go. Though,
more and more you want to be up and about and are no longer content to just
stay in the carrier snuggled against Mama or in the stroller. So, outings are more interesting these days,
but you still make traveling with three kiddos pretty easy, considering! </div>
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You love your brothers, you love your NeeNee and PopPop, you
love Mommy and Daddy, and you love books! Boy do you love books. You love books
more than any one year old I have ever met, including your brothers! You
especially love the “That’s Not My….” touch and feel books and if you could, you
would snuggle in someone’s lap all day long and have them read to you. Every
morning, when Nee Nee or Pop Pop wakes up (because we are living at their house
right now while we wait for our new house to be built) the first thing you do
is grab a book, hand it to them, and wait for them to scoop you into their lap
to read. It’s adorable, and I think it is one of the things you, NeeNee and
PopPop will miss most once we move into our own house! </div>
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You continue to be a good eater. You are MUCH more of an
adventurous eater than either of your brothers was at this age. You will try
pretty much anything and so far there are few things you don’t like. I hope it
stays this way, because having at least one kid who eats well is wonderful! (To
be fair, Ryan is getting better….Zachary is still one of the pickiest eaters I
have ever met!). </div>
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Sleep is another issue….but that’s Mommy and Daddy’s fault.
We’ve spoiled you. We let you sleep in our bed once you wake up and I’m not
sure how we will ever break you of this habit. Oh well, you’re only little
once. I’ve made the song lyric, “let them sleep in the middle, oh, let them be
little” our theme song. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>
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Connor, you are a wonderful addition to our family. We are
so glad you’re ours and we cannot wait to watch you grow over the next year and
all the many years after that. We cannot wait to watch the relationships with your brothers continue to develop. We hope the three of you will be best friends. We can't wait to see you develop even stronger bonds with the many people in this world who love you. You're a special little boy and it is clear that you have a special way of finding your way into the hearts of people who meet you. We love you so, so, so very much! Happy 1<sup>st</sup>
birthday sweet boy!</div>
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Love always, </div>
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Mama </div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-81904503697419282015-09-01T22:23:00.000-04:002015-09-03T22:24:25.939-04:00Connor Matthew: 11 Months Dearest Connor,<br />
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<br />
Somehow we are only one month away from your 1st birthday. I truly cannot believe it. While Ryan started Kindergarten this week, and I somehow did not get too emotional about that, I can tell you with certainty that I will be VERY emotional when you turn one. You're my sweet baby. My last. My littlest guy. I wish I could just stop time and keep you this little forever. And yet, you're such a joyful, special little boy that I am simultaneously excited to see what the future holds and to learn more about the little person you will become.<br />
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So, what have you been up to in the past month? Well, you continue to be our "HappyConnorC" who smiles constantly. You laugh the funniest laugh. Its actually more of a cackle. You babble and "talk" all the time. You seem to constantly be "saying" something, though we often have no idea what it is. You also do this rather obnoxious yelling thing anytime you want something or someone. You point and yell and reach for whatever it is you want. I do not remember your brothers doing this and I'm not quite sure how to get you to stop! While I am confident that I will never have to worry about you making your voice heard as the youngest of three boys, I am eager for you to be able to say actual words instead of yelling! <br />
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But you do have a few actual words. You say "Mama" very clearly and often. I hear you say Dada too, sometimes, but its more often when Daddy isn't here and you seem to be looking for him. You say "Ha" and "Bah" (hi and bye) and wave while doing so. And goodness do you LOVE to wave! You wave at anyone and everyone and you bring frequent smiles to strangers everywhere we go. One of my favorite things about having a baby in tow is the ability to bring joy to other people with such ease. Connor, you do this so naturally as a little guy and I hope that is a trait that will stay with you throughout your life.<br />
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You are a great eater, and not such a great sleeper. I may have finally figured out how to avoid a picky eater by the third kid (you'll eat just about anything I put in front of you), but the sleep thing I still haven't figured out. Although, that's because with you (and with Zach) I've taken a much more relaxed view of sleep and most nights just let you join Daddy and me in our bed. That allows everyone to get more sleep!<br />
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You continue to love your brothers fiercely and are perhaps at your happiest whenever they are around. Now that Ryan goes to school every day you and Zachary are starting to interact more and more. And every day when we pick Ryan up at school it is so cute to see you eagerly looking for him and then get so excited when he is finally there.<br />
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You continue to be very much a Mama's boy, but you are getting more and more used to NeeNee and PopPop. Living here with them, while we wait for our new house to be built, is challenging for all of us. Its certainly no one's fault (well....it might be a little bit our fault. It has to be pretty miserable for NeeNee and PopPop to have their lives invaded by all of us!). But, the absolute BEST part of living with them is seeing the relationship develop between them and you. I have a feeling you will have an extra special bond with your NeeNee and PopPop, and that's saying something, since they already have such a special bond with your big brothers!<br />
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In other news, you love crawling up the stairs. And if I take my eyes off you for even a few seconds I can be certain to find you on the stairs, crawling your way up, usually laughing hysterically as you go. Whenever I come around the corner and find you, you start giggling even harder. You know you're not supposed to go up by yourself and yet, you do it anyway, all. the. time. </div>
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And perhaps the biggest news of all, is that you started walking! (Note: I started writing this on your actual 11-month-day, and I'm not finishing it until today, September 3rd) But just this morning, the 3rd, you took your first independent steps. You'll be flying around the house on two feet in no time! You were quite proud of yourself this morning after you took those first few precarious steps! </div>
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Connor, while I can't believe you're already 11 months, I also can't believe we ever lived without you. You bring such joy to our every day lives. You add to the immense joy we already felt from Ryan and Zachary. We are so glad you're a part our family, and we can't wait to watch you grow (well, we could wait a little....you're just so much fun right now...minus the screaming for stuff you want. ;)<br />
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Happy 11-month-day, Sweet Boy! I love you more than you will ever know!<br />
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Love always,<br />
<br />
MamaKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-36482773862029705662015-08-27T13:42:00.000-04:002015-08-27T13:42:16.892-04:00The First Day of Kindergarten My Dear Ryan,<br />
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As I write this you are spending your first day in Kindergarten. You have probably eaten lunch by now. Hopefully you had fun at recess, and are enjoying meeting new friends. I hope its the BEST day ever!!<br />
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You were so excited this morning. So. Excited. It made me think back to your first days of Preschool. I remember you sobbing every day for at least a week either when I dropped you off, or often, after I left. You always seemed to keep it together for me, but then once I was gone you just missed me too much and the tears started flowing. Twice I got a call because you were so upset the teacher was worried I would have to come get you. It never got to that point. You always pulled your brave face out about 1 minute before I would pull up to the school and I'd get a call that said, "He's fine now."<br />
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But this morning was so different. You were eager and excited to get there. When Daddy, Zachary, Connor, and I walked you up to the front door you were ready to line up without even giving us a hug goodbye. But then the administrator who was about to take your hand said, "What about a hug for Mom and Dad?" Then of course you gave your signature "monkey hugs" and you were off. You headed into school with the confidence and swagger of a kid who'd been doing this forever. As I yelled, "Have a great day! I love you!" you tossed a nonchalant wave my way.<br />
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I'm not gonna lie...the ease with which you headed off today stung just a little bit. But mostly, I was just so, so proud of you. I know you're going to have a great day. But I know you are confident that I'll be there at the end of the day to hear all about your day. And I know you're excited for that, and for all that will happen in between drop off and pick up.<br />
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So many moms talk about how sad they are on this day. And I suppose if I let myself linger too long on the idea that you will now spend the majority of your days in the presence of an adult who is not me then I get a little sad. But then I remind myself that many parents spend the majority of their days away from their children who are in daycare, from the time they are tiny babies and I am immensely grateful for the past 5 and a half years during which I have been home with you almost every single day.<br />
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And yes, if I stop to think about how tiny you were, and how big you are now, and how there are so many moments lost in between that I don't remember, then I get a little sad. I can no longer hear your "baby voice" in my head. I don't remember all the cute words you said incorrectly. Sometimes I wish I could just make time freeze. But I can't. And so, I look at you, and at the beautiful person you are becoming and I rejoice.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jumping for JOY! </td></tr>
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This morning I sent you off with excitement and pride knowing that you're ready. You are kind. You are brave. You are curious. You are eager. You will do fantastic in Kindergarten. And I am so proud that Daddy and I have somehow managed to help you develop into that beautiful little boy who is so very ready. Daddy and I didn't (and still don't) know what we were doing all the time as parents. We've stumbled and made mistakes. We've yelled too much at times. We've unfairly expected too much of you at times because you're the oldest. We'll no doubt continue to make mistakes from time to time. But looking back, I know each of your days was filled with love. There were always many "I love yous" exchanged, so many hugs and snuggles. Lots of books have been read, games played, matches wrestled, and tickles fought. And at the end of every day you have fallen asleep safe, secure, and confident that you are loved because you're you. And though we haven't done everything right, we've done that right.<br />
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So, today I watched you head into elementary school for the first time and I stood in awe of this amazing little person that Daddy and I created and have helped shape into a wonderful boy. I know you're not perfect. I know you'll make mistakes. But I know you're awesome. And today, I'm letting myself take a little credit for that. I am reveling in the fact that WE MADE IT! We made it to Kindergarten with your sense of self not only in tact but strong. I can't wait to see what the future holds for you, sweet boy. I'm so fortunate to have a front seat for what will no doubt be a fantastic show.<br />
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Here's to many more firsts!<br />
<br />
Love always,<br />
<br />
MamaKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-28982879942000607202015-08-26T22:00:00.000-04:002015-08-27T13:48:14.257-04:00The Night Before Kindergarten Below is a letter I wrote to Ryan and read aloud to him the night before his first day of Kindergarten:<br />
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">August 26, 2015<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My Dearest Ryan, <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tomorrow you will start Kindergarten. What adventures await you!
You will learn new things, and meet new people.
Who knows, you may even meet someone who will be your friend for the
rest of your life?! You will have so many new experiences. You’ll learn new
games, new songs, new facts, and new skills. You will probably feel new
feelings, too! School is a wondrous place. The possibilities of what you can
do, achieve, learn, or change are endless. We can’t wait to watch the
possibilities unfold. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But Ryan, I want you to know that there is nothing in this world
that Daddy and I want more for you than to view school as an opportunity to
grow as a person and to practice being kind and brave. I’ve told you before, we
don’t care if you’re the smartest, or the fastest, or the best artist. But we
care that you are the best YOU that you can be. Try your best, work hard, have
fun, and be good. We know you are amazing. Now is your chance to show the rest
of the world! <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Part of being the best YOU possible is learning to be kind. Go
through your day with your eyes wide open. Keep an eye out for the kid who is
extra shy, scared, or lonely. Try to help them be a little less scared and a
little less lonely. Say hello. Ask him to play. Smile at her. Offer to share
your snack…yes, even if the snack is your most favorite snack in all the world
and you wish that I had packed more of it for you. Being kind isn’t always
easy. But, it’s always right. And sometimes doing the right thing means you
have to be brave. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes it will be hard to do the right thing, the kind thing.
Sometimes you’ll worry about what to say, or how to help. But dig deep in that
big heart of yours. You are naturally caring. You instinctively know how to
make people feel better. Trust those instincts. You’ll be amazed at how much of
a difference you can make! <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There may be times when you see one student being mean or unkind
to another student. These are the times that really require bravery. Don’t
stand back. Don’t let that child who is being unkind think that it’s ok. Show
him or her that being kind is the best way to be, and that doing otherwise will
not win him or her any points or any friends. Show them what being kind looks
like by standing up to them confidently. And if doing this seems too hard, or
too scary, because sometimes it might, then tell a teacher or grown-up what
happened so they can help. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan, there is nothing you can or can’t do at school that will
make Daddy and I love you any more than we already do. We already love you as
much as we ever could or ever will. And that is a WHOOOOLLLEEEEE LOT! There is
nothing you can do to make us love you any less. We love you because you’re
you, because you’re ours, and you always will be. We hope that all the love we
have for you will help you be able to show that love to the other kids you will
meet at school. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan, we want you to love school. We want you to have fun. We
want you to explore, learn, create, run, play, ask questions, and have new
adventures every day. But most of all, we want you to grow into the amazingly
kind, caring, and thoughtful little boy that we already see glimpses of every
day. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Have a blast at school sweet boy! We can’t wait to hear all
about it! I love you so, so, soooooo much! I love you to Pluto and beyond!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Love always, <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f5770f; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Mama <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-42993695075473675952015-08-01T22:06:00.000-04:002015-08-07T22:07:07.171-04:00Connor Matthew: 10 Months! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xy5t7ZRX5RA/VcVdCLSYIqI/AAAAAAAAENE/XpN5crOXKto/s1600/10%2BMonths%2B%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xy5t7ZRX5RA/VcVdCLSYIqI/AAAAAAAAENE/XpN5crOXKto/s320/10%2BMonths%2B%25281%2529.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<br />
My Dearest Connor,<br />
<br />
Today you turned 10 months old. I always find the 10 month mark a little bitter sweet. It's the point where you've officially been out of my belly longer than you've been in it. And it is a reminder of how fleeting those pregnant moments are. I know I will never feel the flutter of little kicks from inside ever again. And while pregnancy can sometimes seem to last forever, it really goes by so quickly. I cannot believe that you've been out and about in this world for 10 months! I look at pictures from a year ago, when you weren't here yet and it seems like yesterday. And yet, remembering our family life without you is hard to do!<br />
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I apologize that I didn't write a post when you turned 9 months. As I mentioned when you turned 8 months, I expected that might happen. July was a BUSY month. We moved on July 2nd, one day after your 9 month-day. So, while I am amazed I remembered to take pictures for your 9th month, I did not find the time to blog. And, honestly, its probably just as well. I was a little stressed out with life at that point in time. Who knows what that post would have said! But one thing I can say, is that despite the stress of moving, you were a constant reminder to just soak in the moments and not wish them away. I think as my youngest, you will always be a reminder of that for me. Its easy, when going through life with three little people to wish for the future....when you and your brothers will be more self sufficient; When you won't need me for every. single. thing. And yet, when I think of that, of not being needed as much, I can feel the tears brimming behind my eyes. I know I'll miss these moments. And so, I'm doing my best to soak them in the best I can.<br />
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And Connor, there is so much about you to soak in. You are just a joy. You smile often (just check out the HappyConnorC hashtag on Instagram for proof!...Will all those hashtags still exist when you're 30 and one day reading this?? I hope so!) and you giggle delightedly. Your laugh is truly contagious. You wave hello and goodbye at anyone who will wave back. You have mastered clapping and you do it any chance you get, particularly for yourself when you stand all by yourself. You get the biggest smile on your face, clap excitedly, and just wait for someone to clap with you and say, "Yaaaaayyy!" You say "Mama" as clear as day, and sometimes, I think I hear you say "Dada," even if its not as clear yet. You crawl anywhere and everywhere, pull up on everything and cruise around furniture, along railings, and up steps. You can't make your way down yet, and have precariously tumbled a few times off the single step between NeeNee and PopPop's kitchen and family room. Who knew one little step could be so pesky!<br />
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<br />
And while you are happy most of the time, that's not to say you're never sad or angry. You're very strong willed. If someone takes something from you that you want (but can't have) or tells you no about something you're trying to do, you yell and screech and have even been known to throw your little body backwards in protest or lay face first on the ground. Oh, your toddlerhood is going to be awesome! <br />
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But, I am certain your happy, strong-willed nature will serve you well as the youngest of three boys. I have no doubt that you will never let your older brothers take advantage of you. At least I hope not. Speaking of your brothers, they both continue to love you tremendously. Ryan still dotes on you and loves being the biggest big brother who can truly help with you at times. He will often play with you in your crib in the morning while I am getting ready since there is really no "safe" place for you to play upstairs at NeeNee and PopPop's house. Zachary is beginning to realize that you can now get into his stuff and thus you're a bit of a bother to him at times, but overall, he sees you as his "baby Don-na" (he cannot say Connor well, despite the fact that he now talks up a storm!) whom he enjoys playing with and he loves being "the big helper in our family" as Daniel Tiger says. I love watching the two of you play together and lately Zach has been asking to "read" books to you and it is so cute to see him make up stories as he turns the pages in books for you. I've told you this before, and I'll say it again: Your brothers will never be replaced. They are your first friends. They will one day be the only other people who remember your childhood. Cherish them. Love them. Forgive them. Call them (no, texting is not the same. Don't let anyone say it is. Pick up the phone. Hear each other's voices, and check in!). Enjoy them.<br />
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We've been busy the past few months not only with packing and moving out of our home, but also with fun. We went on your first ever full family vacation just two days after moving out of our house and into NeeNee and PopPop's house. The timing was terrible (we'd planned this vacation long before we ever knew we'd be selling our house!), but we still had a blast. Together with NeeNee, PopPop, Uncle John, Auntie Cindy, Uncle Mark, Auntie Catharine, Caitlin, Julia, and James we all stayed in a gorgeous big beach house in Bethany Beach, Delaware. You saw the Ocean for the first time, tried to eat the sand, rode a carousel for the first time, went swimming in the pool in our backyard daily, and just generally were a pleasant little guy to be around despite all the many changes that were going on in all of our lives (I don't think you had any idea where "home" was at that time). You had your moments, but for the most part you thoroughly enjoyed having all your brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and of course beloved NeeNee and PopPop all within such close proximity. We made many very special memories and had a blast!<br />
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<br />
Connor, you are so very, very, very loved, and I hope you never, ever forget that. We have so enjoyed you being in our life for the past 10 months and we can't wait to see what the next 1,000 months have in store!<br />
<br />
Happy 10-Month Day!<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
<br />
Mama<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-60798284674528221542015-07-23T22:35:00.000-04:002015-07-23T23:11:03.428-04:00Just Eat Your Pancakes <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you are a parent and spend any time on the Internet, you
have certainly come across the drama that ensued when a small child in a diner
in Portland, ME was being loud and the owner lashed out and yelled directly at
the child. There is of course a lot of back and forth going on. But, there are
a few things we know for certain, as the diner owner hasn’t disputed them, or
said so directly:</span></div>
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</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The owner yelled directly at the child…who was not
even 2. </span></span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The owner referred to the child on her Facebook
page as “it” and a “beast.”</span></span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think based on those facts alone we can agree that the
owner of the diner has some, well, let’s be nice and just say “issues.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Washington Post has since published a response from the
Mom of the child (you can read it <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2015/07/22/im-the-mom-whose-encounter-with-an-angry-maine-diner-owner-went-viral-heres-what-happened/">here</a>).
She paints a picture of a normal 21 month
old, who was getting antsy as she had to wait a long time for an easy breakfast
(three pancakes). She explains that it was raining, and that is why they didn’t
take the child out of the restaurant, and instead decided to try to eat as
quickly as they could and then leave. Honestly, I don’t really care what
happened. What I care about are the reactions that people have had to this
mother. In the comments section the parents are being made out to be monsters
who should be “sterilized” and the diner owner is a hero. One commenter said taking a child who is tired
and hungry out in public is “child abuse.” Another said the mom is a “self-centered
jerk.” I’m sure worse things have been said, but I only scanned the first page
of comments (and there were at least 300 more pages to go). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I would love to meet all these perfect parents who feel that
they can be so easily judgmental of a parent they have never before met. If so
many parents have such perfect children, then the future is certainly bright! But
a parent of perfect children, I’m certainly not one of them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have three boys ages 5, 2, and 9 months. And until recently
I would say they were <i>fairly </i>well
behaved <i>almost</i> all the time. Even in restaurants.
But, we recently moved. And the creatures who have invaded my children’s’
bodies and taken over have given me the biggest dose of humility I have ever been
given. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">See, we didn’t just move. That makes it sound simple. No, we
sold the only home my three children have ever known. Before selling we somehow
managed to keep the house in pristine condition 24 hours a day for three weeks
(yes, I know we were lucky it was only three weeks) while it was listed for
sale. During this time the boys certainly weren’t able to play and make messes
as easily in our house, as we had to be able to clean up and leave on a moment’s
notice. The level to which they picked up on all of this was evident when my
mom was babysitting and my two year-old said, “I dusting so we can sell house.”
(No, I never made them dust. But, he was pretend-playing and had CLEARLY picked
up on a lot.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We purchased a new home to be built. But that home won’t be
ready until the end of October. We moved out of our house and into my (very
generous and gracious) parents’ house on July 2<sup>nd</sup>. On July 4<sup>th</sup>
we headed to the beach for a week-long vacation with my entire extended family
(parents, brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces, and nephew) that had been planned
long before we ever decided to sell our home. So, in 2 days time my boys were
living in three different homes. I don’t think they had any clue where “home”
was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Clearly, they’ve been through a lot of change in a short
amount of time, and it has been hard. Really, really hard. I’m a Social Worker.
I’ve tried to prepare them, and help them understand, and cope as well as possible.
But, when a little kids’ world turns upside down, well, they act out. Out of
fairness to my children I’m not going to air their dirty laundry and tell any
of their acting out stories. But, there are definitely some people in Bethany
Beach, DE who probably think my kids are brats (for the record, they’re not)
and I’m pretty certain my parents think I’m the worst Mom in the world given
the way my kids have been behaving over the last few weeks. (Sorry, Mom and
Dad! I swear they’re not normally like this…Really! They aren’t!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">All of this is to say that yes, I may be a little sensitive
to the plight of a mom with an acting out toddler right now. But I hope that
even before parenting these children who are so <i>not my children</i> that I would have been more understanding and non-judgmental
to the mom of the 21-month old in the diner in Portland. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6CySnsK-Y5M/VbGj97kD41I/AAAAAAAAEMs/ggQelAuIcOU/s1600/Be%2BKind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6CySnsK-Y5M/VbGj97kD41I/AAAAAAAAEMs/ggQelAuIcOU/s320/Be%2BKind.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The whole time I read about this Diner Debacle I kept
thinking of the quote that says something like, “Be kind, for everyone you meet
is fighting a battle you know nothing about,” (which has been attributed to
anyone from Ian Maclaren to Plato). I’m
not saying that my move is a battle, or that the parents in the diner were
fighting a battle (the mom doesn’t mention one in her Washington Post response,
but it’s certainly her prerogative to keep it private if she was). But, that
diner owner didn’t know that! The harsh commenters don’t know that. When did we as human beings stop giving each
other the benefit of the doubt?
Especially, as fellow parents, who have been in the trenches with tiny
dictators, we should know that parenting is HARD…so hard. Even when not fighting any particularly difficult battle, sometimes, parenting is a battle in and of itself. We should want to
support our fellow parents and help them out, not break them down and berate
them for responding in a less than ideal way to a typical toddler. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And to people who don’t have children, please, just keep
your mouth shut. Parenting is truly one of those things that unless you’ve done
it, you have no place judging those who have. And even those who have done it,
have no right to judge, because, remember: hidden battles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> As I mentioned, I’m a
Social Worker. I’ve spent my career working with really, really sick kids. I
always think about these kids when I see children having a hard time out in
public. Even when a child is really sick, they still want to be normal. Their
families still want to do normal things, like, eat out at restaurants. You
never know if the tantruming child at the table next to you is the sister of a
child who is hospitalized and possibly dying. You never know if the little boy
whining and crying in the booth across the restaurant just spent the past 60
days in a hospital for chemo or radiation or surgery, and upon discharge asked
to go to his favorite restaurant. His parents probably knew it was a bad idea. But
what parent isn’t going to grant that simple wish to their brave child? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, let’s stop judging. Let’s start helping. Be that parent
who brings a toy you have in your diaper bag over to the tantruming child to
try to distract them. Be the parent who catches the eye of the frustrated
parent and mouths, “Been there. Done that,” and smiles. Be the stranger, who
doesn’t have children, who makes a paper airplane and sails it over to the
child with a note that says, “smile.” (Yeah, that sounds cheesy, but I bet the
kid would stop crying!). Be a helper. Or, at the very least, don’t be a hater.
Don’t spew anger and judgment. Remember when you’ve been at your worst and how
you’ve made mistakes, and acted in ways that you regret? Then imagine you’re 2 and
don’t have a fully developed brain, and can’t process emotions effectively. And
remember that when parents are stressed out and embarrassed they sometimes make
poor decisions and can’t think straight and decide to just try to scarf their
food down as quickly as possible instead of immediately removing their kid from
the restaurant. If eating in a diner—come on, this was NOT <i>Le Diplomat </i>(if you live in DC and haven’t been….GO!) This was a
casual diner. The kid could not have been disturbing that many people—just take
a deep breath, relax and enjoy your pancakes. </span></div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-45888628350346602772015-06-21T08:52:00.000-04:002015-06-21T08:55:30.494-04:00What Do We Tell the Children? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tk-3p8x8VyA/VYazNWLml3I/AAAAAAAAEME/pV1Dwh7VUR4/s1600/MrRogers2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tk-3p8x8VyA/VYazNWLml3I/AAAAAAAAEME/pV1Dwh7VUR4/s640/MrRogers2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are so many bad things happening in our world. And as
an avid NPR listener—when in the car (don’t worry, I let my kids listen to
Casper Babypants, and BNL Kids, and Rocknocerous too, but Mama’s gotta get her
news fix somewhere!)—my kids hear about them. I’m a Social Worker by profession
and I’m not one to shy away from a tough conversation with my kids. And as my oldest gets older (he’s 5 now),
those tough conversations have been getting a lot tougher. I’ve spent my career
talking to kids who are dying (and their loved ones) about death. It doesn’t
get much tougher than that. But having
these sometimes very sad conversations with my own kid is really hard. </div>
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So, what do we tell our kids when they hear about a mass
shooting, with racism at its core, in South Carolina, or about another shooting
in a movie theater/school/church/pick your place, or about an ISIS attack in
Syria or Iraq, or about a family who got evicted because they couldn’t pay rent?
Sad, scary, devastating stories about our town, country, or world are not
things we should hide from our children. Instead, we can take an opportunity to
talk to our children in an honest, caring, open way that I hope will help
prevent many of these tragedies from occurring in the future. My hope is that
my children won’t have to have as many of these tough conversations with their own
kids. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When my son heard the reporter on NPR say, “9 people were
gunned down by a 21 year-old in a South Carolina church,” the conversation went
something like this. </div>
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<br />
<b>Ryan:</b> Mama, what did he say? What is
gunned down?<br />
<b>Me:</b> It means that one bad guy shot 9
people with a gun. <br />
<b>Ryan:</b> Did they die?<br />
<b>Me:</b> Yes, they did. <br />
<b>Ryan</b>: Why did he do that?<br />
<b>Me</b>: Because he was a very bad
person. He wasn’t taught how to love people the way we do.<br />
<b>Ryan: </b>Why did he want to hurt them?<br />
<b>Me: </b>Sometimes, bad people think it’s
ok to hate other people just because they are different. And we know that’s not
ok.<br />
<b>Ryan</b>: What was different about them?<br />
<b>Me</b>: Well, the bad man who shot them
had light colored skin like you and I have. And the people he shot had brown
skin.<br />
<b>Ryan</b>: He shot them because their
skin was a different color?<br />
<b>Me</b>: Yes, he did. <br />
<b>Ryan</b>: That’s silly. <br />
<b>Me</b>: Yes, it is very silly. It’s
terrible…and very, very sad. <br />
<silence a="" for="" while=""><long silence="">(<i>long silence......)</i><br />
<b>Ryan</b>: Mama, are there bad guys like that near here?<br />
<b>Me</b>: Maybe. But we are very lucky. We
live in a very safe town, and the police, and all the other good guys do
everything they can to keep us safe from any bad guys. </long></silence></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that’s where it ended this time. He’s getting older, and
one day I know the follow-up question will be, “But Mama, what if the bad guy
near here had a gun and still was able to hurt people? What if they hurt us? Or
someone we know?” And I would say, “That would be terrible. And we would all be
scared and sad. But we would also all work together to help the people who were
hurt. And we would then do everything we could to try and make sure it never
happens again.” As he gets older, I’ll explain that it’s our responsibility to
do what we can NOW. No one should wait until the next tragedy is in their
backyard. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Here are some general
guidelines I use when talking with my kids, or other kids about really tough
subjects:<br />
<br />
<b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Be Honest:</b><br />
Kids are smart and intuitive. They can
easily tell when you’re not being truthful or are trying to hide things from
them. And hiding things from kids only makes them feel more anxious and
worried. Children have very vivid imaginations. If they feel that something is
being kept from them they may imagine things are much worse than they really
are. The truth is scary. But not knowing what to believe or who to trust is
scarier.<br />
<br />
<b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Give Information In Tidbits</b><br />
In the conversation I had with my son about
what happened in South Carolina you can see that I fed him little bits of
information at a time. I let him ask lots of follow-up questions. I let him
voice the questions that mattered to him. Sometimes, we can give kids too much
information and overwhelm them. If we spit out too much information too
quickly, we might cause them to worry about things that they haven’t even begun
to understand, much less worry about. So, follow your child’s lead. Answer the
questions they ask one step at a time.<br />
<br />
<b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Don’t be afraid to show emotions</b><br />
Not showing our honest emotions is akin to
not telling the truth. And as I said, above, kids are intuitive. They know when
we’re hiding something. When kids can sense that they aren’t being given the
whole picture—and they can sense this at a very young age (a fascinating study
on this topic was just recently published, you can read about it <a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2015/06/12/413917929/what-babies-understand-about-adult-sadness">here</a>)—
they grow anxious and distrusting. If we
don’t let kids see us cry, or show anger or frustration, then they will think
that doing so is wrong. Hiding our feelings teaches our kids to hide their
feelings. Showing our emotions teaches kids that it’s ok to show theirs too.<br />
<br />
<b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Give them hope</b><br />
As grown-ups we all look for the positives in
tragic situations. Not doing so leaves us feeling hopeless and paralyzed by
fear. Children too, need that glimmer of hope. Mr. Roger’s quote (above) about
looking for the helpers is one of my favorites. It can be used in many
situations and circumstances. Develop the habit in yourself of looking for the
helpers so that your children learn how to find hope in the most tragic
situations.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LdwSrs1BqBw/VYazUKA9HYI/AAAAAAAAEMM/ZGcR_lSjYQQ/s1600/Gandhi%2Bquote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LdwSrs1BqBw/VYazUKA9HYI/AAAAAAAAEMM/ZGcR_lSjYQQ/s400/Gandhi%2Bquote.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
<b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Keep the lines of communication open</b><br />
One of the best things we can do as parents
for our children is to assure them that we are always available to talk, that
no topic is off limits, and that they can trust us with the really hard stuff.
If we don’t talk openly, easily, and honestly with our children on a daily
basis, then they won’t seek us out in scary, sad, and difficult times. Helping
our kids understand, process, cope, survive, and thrive after a tragedy is not
something achieved only in times of tragedy. We work toward it every single
day. The way you communicate with your children and with the people you love
teaches your children how to communicate with you, with the people they love,
and the people they encounter on a daily basis. As Gandhi so wisely instructed
us, “Be the change you wish to see in the world,” and begin with your children. </div>
<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-19364808079765045312015-06-16T10:16:00.000-04:002015-06-16T10:16:29.766-04:00From One to Three <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being the
mom to three young kids ages 5 and under, I often find myself reflecting on how
different my parenting is now with my 3<sup>rd</sup> than it was with my 1<sup>st</sup>.
So, here are 5 of the most glaring differences between my first-time-mom self
and my seasoned third-time-mom status.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>1.<span style="font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;">
</span></b><!--[endif]--><b>The
Diaper Blowout:<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">FIRST KID: Carefully remove
the shirt, trying desperately not to get poop on his face or in his hair, even
though it's unavoidable. Promptly give baby a full bath. Scrub the shirt to
remove stain from oh-so-stainable infant poop. Soak shirt in Oxyclean for 12
hours, then wash. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SECOND KID: Remove shirt as
carefully as possible knowing he's going to get poop on him. Give him a good clean
up with a few wipes. Toss shirt in the laundry and hope the stains come out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THIRD KID: Cut shirt off
with scissors and toss in trash. Change non-poop-covered baby. He's as good as
new!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Only recently did that
whole “oh! The collars on Onesies are like that so you can roll the shirt down
instead of take it over their head” thing go viral. So, yeah, I had no idea
about that….but, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything anyway. I’d still
be throwing Onesies away at this point.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">2.<span style="font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></b><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">Books I’ve
read about “How To Get the Baby to Sleep.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">FIRST KID: Allllllll of
them. Every. Single. Freakin’. One. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SECOND KID: The one my
Sister-in-law swears worked miracles for her son. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THIRD KID: None. And I
threw away all the other ones I read before with the other two. Nope, I wouldn’t
even donate them. No parent out there needs to worry that much about their kid’s
sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(To be clear, this change
is not because I became some “master of getting my kids to sleep” by reading
all those books. Noooooo, definitely not. I just don’t care anymore. I’ve
accepted the fact that my children do not sleep through the night until at
least 14 months, and I am OK with that). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>3.<span style="font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;">
</span></b><!--[endif]--><b>People
who have seen my boobs (while nursing): <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">FIRST KID: The baby. My
husband. Maaaaaaybe my mom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SECOND KID: The baby. My
husband. My older son. Definitely my mom, probably my sisters-in-law. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">THIRD KID: The baby, my
husband, my two older kids, my mom, my sisters-in-law, my dad, the
pediatrician, the UPS guy, the old lady who came up to talk to us while my
older two were feeding the ducks, the numerous guys at the construction site we
frequent daily to watch the trucks, the nice woman in the coffee shop at the
train station (that we also frequent daily to watch the trains), and maaaaaybe my
brothers (but probably not. Some things will always just be weird). </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">4.<span style="font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></b><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">Questions
I have for the Pediatrician at well visits:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">FIRST KID: Soooooooo many.
And they were typed out, on a neat list, that I printed the night before. I
brought two copies. One that had been neatly glued in my “Baby’s 1<sup>st</sup>
year” notebook so that I could take notes, and one so that the pediatrician
could have a copy, because clearly, he needed a copy of </span><b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">my</span></b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"> questions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SECOND KID: None. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">THIRD KID: Lots. But they
are all about my oldest. I’ve done this baby stuff before. But I’ve never done
this 5 year-old stuff before! I’m still a “first time Mom” to him. Basically,
well visits for the baby are just an opportunity to get the advice of a doctor
I have grown to love and respect tremendously over the years. I might need to
keep having kids just so I can have regular advice sessions with him. I mean
seriously, when my youngest is 2 am I really expected to go an </span><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">ENTIRE year without the
reassurance he provides that I’m not completely screwing up my kids? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">5.<span style="font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></b><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;">Visits to
the Pediatrician outside of Well-visits during the first year:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">FIRST KID: None. Seriously,
I thought I was a freaking rock star! I mean, not one ear infection, not one
stomach bug, not one case of pink eye! I was mom of the year! Clearly, my kid’s
awesome health was because I was DOING IT ALL RIGHT!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SECOND KID: 37. Ok, that
might be a bit of an exaggeration but it felt like that. My oldest still never
gets sick. My second gets a fever if you look at him crooked and has an uncanny
ability to catch every cold in a 20 mile radius. They were both breastfed.
Don’t let anyone tell you your kid does or doesn’t get sick because of the
breast or the bottle. Some just don’t. And some do. And some get the benefit of
an older sibling who shares allllll the germs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THIRD KID: None. We’re only
at month 8. But so far, no “sick” visits. But this isn’t because he hasn’t been
sick. For the first 4 months of his life I felt like he had a constant cold.
But my threshold for concern is much lower. (That visit to the ER doesn’t count,
right?)<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whether you’re
a first time, a third time, or a sixteenth time mom, this parenting thing has a
constant and steep learning curve. Don’t be too hard on yourself no matter
where you are on that curve. Some days it is easier. Some days it feels endless.
But chances are, you’re doing just fine. </span><b style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-4088251606466366472015-06-08T20:59:00.005-04:002015-06-08T20:59:47.001-04:00The First of Many GraduationsDear Ryan,<br />
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About 2 weeks ago you graduated from Preschool, Crofton Nursery School (CNS) to be exact. It was a wonderful little school with lots of parent involvement, and Daddy and I got to watch you blossom from a little boy who cried every day for the first three weeks of school during your "3s" year to a boy who bounded out of the car with such excitement each day of your "4s" year that you often forgot to toss a hurried "I love you, too!" my way as you headed out of the car and into your beloved school.<br />
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CNS was a place where you learned to <i>love</i> school. And that is all I wanted from your preschool experience. Yes, you made friends, and grew to understand the "social norms" of a classroom setting, and you learned about numbers, and bugs, and letters, and colors, and patterns, and experimenting, and fun. But mostly, you just loved going there, and that's all that mattered to me.<br />
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At your preschool graduation I saw so many moms who were teary, and emotional, and a little sad to see their sweet babies growing up. And I totally get that. Really, I do. I look back at your newborn pictures and wonder where the heck the past 5 years have gone. But most of all, as I sat at your preschool graduation, watching you sing songs with enthusiasm, watching you do all the hand motions with precision, and watching you wink at me occasionally when you knew you were singing one of my favorite songs, the thing I was most thinking about is how every excited I am for you. This was just your <i>first </i>school experience...The first of many graduations to come. So much more lies ahead of you. I know you will thrive in school. You are inquisitive, eager, excited, determined, and kind. Every time I read a non-fiction book with you, either about trains, or trucks, or most recently about volcanoes I just love how you absorb every detail of information. You take it in. You swish it around in your brain for a bit, and then a few minutes, hours, or days later you come back with wonderful questions that show how you've assimilated all the information and are working to make even more sense of it all.<br />
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And so, instead of being sad that you're growing up (though, I'm not gonna lie, I still can't believe you're such a <i>boy</i> and not a baby anymore) I am just so thrilled that you are coming up on a point in your life where you will really take off, and develop new interests, and learn new skills, and explore talents you didn't even know you had. You're gonna do great, sweet boy. Kindergarten is going to be amazing!<br />
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Until then, let's enjoy this summer and soak in as much fun as we can. Because while I am soooo excited for you to begin "big kid" school, I can NOT believe that in a few short months you will spend the majority of every day <i>not</i> with me. I'm going to miss you! But I will so look forward to your stories when you come home (because really, you better not pull that whole "How was your day? <i>Good.</i> What did you do? <i>Nothing.</i><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>BS that I (and every other kid ever) has pulled on their parents. I want details, little man. I want to hear all about the new worlds opening up to you! You'll be the pilot, please take me along for the ride!<br />
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I love you, more than you'll ever know!<br />
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Always,<br />
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MamaKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-2085722487514377662015-06-01T22:15:00.000-04:002015-06-05T22:16:37.418-04:00Connor Matthew: 8 Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Connor,<br />
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You turned 8 months old the other day. (Yes, I am a few days late in writing this. I am actually writing it on June 5th, even though I will date stamp it as June 1st so that when you're older and looking for these posts you can easily find them).<br />
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You've been very busy this month! On May 6th you and I were on the local news talking about your birth, and once again advocating for Family Centered C-sections. The video of our television debut can be seen here: <a href="http://www.abc2news.com/news/in-focus/mother-advocates-for-family-centered-c-sections">http://www.abc2news.com/news/in-focus/mother-advocates-for-family-centered-c-sections</a><br />
(I often wonder if 5, 10, 15 years from now these news stories will still be there....I hope so!)<br />
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Other than being on TV you've also been accomplishing a lot at home. You are desperate to be able to move around. And despite the fact that you are <i>so close</i> to being able to crawl you generally get frustrated with trying and prefer to pull yourself up on anything and everything you can. You get soooo excited when you stand up and you just giggle and bounce whenever you're standing up straight holding onto something by yourself.<br />
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I have a feeling you will be an early walker like your big brothers were. But honestly, I'm ok with you staying immobile for quite a while longer. Life will change for all of us when you are truly mobile! Ryan and Zach won't know what to do with you and you might not be in their perpetual good graces any longer once you can move around and take their stuff. Daddy and I will have to watch you like a hawk because you already somehow manage to get into a lot of trouble even though you can't really move on your own yet!<br />
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In addition to trying to get up and about and take on the world, you've also made huge strides in eating. You recently learned how to suck on a straw and out of a baby food pouch. So, you now drink from a sippy cup and you have increased your food intake dramatically. (And yes, you eat mostly baby food <i>pouches</i>...but! They're all organic! I know I made almost all of Ryan's baby food and most of Zach's. I'm sorry that so far I have made exactly none of yours. But, between raising three kids and selling our house life hasn't left time to make baby food. But I promise, you're no worse for the wear!) You also love Cheerios, puffs, strawberries (that you eat whole and suck on/mash with your gums), whole wheat waffles, peanut butter, mandarin oranges, roasted carrots cut into small pieces, Greek yogurt, and whatever little morsels of food your brothers sneak you from their plates. You love sitting in your high chair when the whole family joins you. But you get sad when you're the only one sitting there. </div>
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Just yesterday (June 4th) your first, front, bottom (right) tooth popped through. Consequently, you have been waking more at night than is typical for you. But to be honest, I have no idea how much you wake on a typical night. Usually you just co-sleep with me and when you want to nurse, you do, and I go back to sleep. I stopped trying to "sleep train" my kiddos after Ryan. I've realized that you will eventually sleep through the night. And the battle to get you to do it before you're really ready is too stressful for anyone at all. So, until then, Daddy and I are enjoying your baby snuggles. </div>
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You continue to be an absolute JOY. You have an infectious giggle that practically brings tears to my eyes when I hear it because I'm just so. darn. happy. anytime I hear it. You give shy, sheepish smiles to strangers who say hello to you in the grocery store and you make those people smile too. Speaking of grocery stores, you rode in the cart for the first time the other day and you LOVED it. You smiled and giggled the entire time we were there. Lots of people smiled as you road by. You bring a lot of joy, to a lot of people sweet Connor and we are so very, very happy that you're a part of our family. </div>
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A lot is going to change between now and your next month-day. We just got a contract on this house we currently live in. The people buying it want to settle on July 9th. Its crazy to think that we will be leaving this house, the only house that you, Zachary, and Ryan have ever known in about 30 days. Its very emotional. We are so very, very excited to move into our new beautiful home (once its built) but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to how sad it is to know you (and probably Zach too) will never remember this house, your first house....OUR first house. Its driven us crazy at times, but its been a good house. So, if I don't manage to write a 9 month post, please forgive me.</div>
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Happy 8-month-day, sweet boy! I love you more than you will ever know!</div>
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Always, </div>
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Mommy </div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-50844344157751308822015-05-01T12:41:00.000-04:002015-05-06T12:42:46.870-04:00Connor Matthew: 7 Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Connor,<br />
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7 months??? Seriously? Where has the time gone. I can still vividly remember the day you were born and the amazing experience of our "Family Centered C-section" like it was yesterday. Since I last wrote you a letter a lot more people have heard about your birth! You see, your birth was kind of a big deal. It was the first "Family Centered C-section" at the hospital where you were delivered. And because of that, we've been in the news a lot. We were on NPR, where people all over the world (millions of people actually) heard your first cries. There were blog posts about us, newspaper articles, and soon we're going to be on TV! Because of you sweet boy, lots and lots of other mommies, daddies, and babies are having better birth experiences and that is pretty amazing! You've made such a difference in this world already, and you're only seven months old!<br />
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But most of all, you've made a difference in our family. Having you around is just such a breath of fresh air. When your big brothers act a little crazy, you are my calm. You are the one I can just hold, and snuggle, and breath in deeply and say, "this too shall pass" about whatever chaos is going on. I know you won't stay this way forever, and already we are seeing signs of you wanting to grow up faster than we'd like, but I sure am going to soak in all your sweet baby moments while I can.<br />
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You bring calm and kindness to your brothers too. I continue to love watching Ryan and Zachary connect with you. They look out for you, worry about you, and seek to make you happy. Ryan makes you giggle more than anyone else and I can already tell you and Zach are gonna be great buds. You love to try to grab Zach's passy from him at bedtime. And when you do he giggles and says, "No, no Donna (yeah, when he says Connor it sounds like "Donna")!" and you smile and laugh right back...until you realize he isn't giving you that passy and then you start to fuss. But he will then immediately run and get you another one of his pacifiers, which you simply want to chew on and play with. (We're lucky, you could care less about sucking on a passy. And you didn't become a finger sucker as I originally thought you might. Hooray!!) Its fun to watch the two of you interact and it makes my heart smile every time.<br />
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As I mentioned, you definitely want to grow up faster than you are. You are DESPERATE to be able to move around on your own and it frustrates you greatly that you can't yet join your brothers in all their antics. You want to move, and you want to move NOW! You sit all by yourself like a pro now, and don't ever topple over anymore. You love to be held and snuggle, but if your brothers are nearby you squirm and wiggle until you get a good view of them and you squeal in delight at watching them. You're not crawling yet, but I don't think it will be too much longer until you are.<br />
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You continue to be such a joyful, happy baby. Recently, we put you in the jumperoo (it was the second time, but the first time you really were too small) and you just LOVED it. I was planning to sell it at a yard sale. But I think this video makes it clear that I certainly can't do that! <br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wQcAj-hCfBE" width="420"></iframe><br />
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And as joyful as you are, there are other parts of your personality that are beginning to shine through. You have strong opinions and you voice them clearly. If you get a hold of something that you can't have, you make the <i>saddest</i> face and cry huge crocodile tears when it is take away from you. If you want to be held and no one is obliging, you will cry and fuss to such a degree that someone not in the know would think you were hurt. But, you always recover quickly. Its like someone is turning off a switch as soon as the situation is remedied to your satisfaction. But really, this is such a tiny portion of the way you spend your time. Mostly, you are just a happy, go with the flow guy.<br />
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Connor, in the 7 months that you have been here you have become an integral part of our family. I can't imagine life without you and I sure am glad that I don't have to!<br />
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Happy 7-month-day!<br />
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Love always,<br />
<br />
Mama<br />
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P.S. I missed your six month-day post. But here are some of those pictures:<br />
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<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116647481133478360.post-41117447520067231112015-03-18T22:15:00.001-04:002015-03-18T22:15:44.343-04:00Why the Media Blitz?? <span style="font-family: inherit;">Its been a bit of a crazy 2 weeks! The story that high-lighted my Family Centered C-Section was the most read story on all of NPR over the past week. People from all over the country (and world) have seen my and Connor's picture, heard me getting teary talking about the moment my newborn son was placed on my chest, and yes, as a former colleague e-mailed me and said, "You just gave birth in my car!" I guess I gave birth in a lot of people's cars last Monday. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But what's it all for? Why all the media attention? Well, its about spreading the word about this amazing option for other women. And yes, a lot of other women are hearing about this and requesting it. I received quite a few lovely e-mails from Moms thanking me for paving the way. One said, "I wish I could have experienced that when I had a c-section (maybe someday). Either way, thank you for sharing your story. You bring hope to so many women!" Another read, "Thank you so much for sharing your experience with the world and with me, and for being brave enough to pursue this for yourself. Do you consider yourself a trailblazer? </span>Because<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I do! I think it is wonderful that you heard about this and even though it hadn't been tried locally, you pursued it...You are paving the way for other interested parents to look into this and </span>experience<span style="font-family: inherit;"> it for themselves. Thank you for that." I heard from another mom (seen below) who had a family centered c-section at the same hospital where I delivered just a few weeks ago. She posted this picture on a Facebook group I am a part of and said, after reading the NPR article, "I had no idea this wasn't normally a thing! Thank you, Kristen!" </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmVigde_8w/VQovMui0V7I/AAAAAAAAEHU/yaiHIWfhs90/s1600/Blog%2BMom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmVigde_8w/VQovMui0V7I/AAAAAAAAEHU/yaiHIWfhs90/s1600/Blog%2BMom.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Used with permission of AJW)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's kind of amazing to know that beautiful pictures like the one above exist because <i>my</i> voice was heard by some very caring medical professionals. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">You see, none of this "PR Stuff" is about me, or the attention I'm getting or the number of people who see my picture. Sure, that's all fun and exciting. But, it's really about spreading the word of patient self-advocacy. And how when patients and doctors (and hospitals) work together, with a little help from the media (and social media) amazing things can happen. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Recently I learned that the hospital where I delivered is pitching the story to other media outlets and thus I started thinking a lot about "what's the next step in this story?" And I decided that if I talked to any other reporters I would talk about how almost any change in medicine starts with individuals expecting more. And so, in having the story spread further, I want to inspire other women to be that FIRST woman at their delivery hospital. I want women (and patients in general) to understand that they can improve their care, and their child's care, and the care of other women by being informed, starting a conversation, and knowing that they deserve to be heard and taken seriously. I was taken seriously by every single person I encountered at Anne Arundel Medical Center. And because of that, change is happening. Women need to hear that. Doctors need to hear that. Other hospitals need to hear that.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, yes, do I have a story I want told? Absolutely! But it's not about me. It's about all the other "first" women who will come after me and expect more, and be agents of change because <i>they </i>heard my story.</span></div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478063966631771155noreply@blogger.com0