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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:geo="http://www.w3.org/2003/01/geo/wgs84_pos#" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8DQn4_fSp7ImA9WhRUFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542</id><updated>2012-01-25T20:21:13.045-05:00</updated><category term="childcare" /><category term="other people's kids" /><category term="fate laughing at me" /><category term="BlogHer07" /><category term="Cordy" /><category term="BlogHer11" /><category term="contests" /><category term="BlogHer" /><category term="being a mom" /><category term="sisterhood" /><category term="Hall of Shame" /><category term="sick child" /><category term="BlogHer10" /><category term="memories" /><category term="blog love" /><category term="ain't too proud to beg" /><category term="people who don't suck" /><category term="more than parents" /><category term="shameless bragging" /><category term="BlogHer08" /><category term="baby names" /><category term="Haiku Fridays" /><category term="Blissdom" /><category term="pop culture" /><category term="TMI" /><category term="mom blogs" /><category term="sharing the soapbox" /><category term="me me me" /><category term="rant" /><category term="the J-O-B" /><category term="ASD" /><category term="growing up" /><category term="domestic zero" /><category term="Aaron" /><category term="TV" /><category term="daily life" /><category term="reviews" /><category term="politics" /><category term="random" /><category term="Aunt Dot" /><category term="ninja toddler" /><category term="mean mommy" /><category term="school" /><category term="advice from readers" /><category term="BlogHer09" /><category term="Mira" /><category term="kid logic" /><category term="Amazons" /><category term="haiku" /><category term="about blogging" /><category term="toddler battles" /><category term="clearly insane" /><category term="breastfeeding" /><category term="meme time" /><category term="holidays" /><category term="Hot by Blogher" /><category term="family time" /><category term="awards" /><category term="Cosmo" /><category term="idiots" /><category term="shameless promotion" /><category term="plague" /><category term="geek paradise" /><category term="love" /><category term="snow" /><category term="healthy living" /><category term="big issues" /><category term="pregnancy" /><category term="money" /><title>A Mommy Story</title><subtitle type="html">Tales of one woman stumbling her way through mommyhood.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.amommystory.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1063</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/AMommyStory" /><feedburner:info uri="amommystory" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><geo:lat>39.88628</geo:lat><geo:long>-83.079893</geo:long><link rel="license" type="text/html" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8FSHw7cCp7ImA9WhRUFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-5537828873790906842</id><published>2012-01-25T09:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T09:13:39.208-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T09:13:39.208-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>Appreciating Hot Water (Especially When It's Gone)</title><content type="html">It's easy to take for granted so many of the conveniences in our lives. Our homes have electric, heating and cooling, indoor plumbing, and so many other little things that make the day-to-day existence more comfortable. I'm so used to all of these things that I never really appreciate them until they're gone. (Wait...does internet access&amp;nbsp;count as one of those modern conveniences? 'Cause I'm a panicky, weepy mess when that goes out in the house.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-am82YJp5YZA/TyANrxKluyI/AAAAAAAACz8/6Yr6tHcyIjg/s1600/hot-water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="137" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-am82YJp5YZA/TyANrxKluyI/AAAAAAAACz8/6Yr6tHcyIjg/s200/hot-water.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;But lately one first-world comfort has been making our lives a little more...exciting? frustrating? game-show-like? (Take your pick, really.) Hot water. It's so simple, right? You turn the faucet handle to the left, and magically hot water comes out at your bidding. Except when it doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Despite our house being fairly new, we've been having problems with our water heater for a few years. Three winters ago, I noticed the hot water ran out in my shower really quickly. A look at the water heater revealed the pilot light had gone out. OK, no big deal, re-light it and go on my way. No other issues cropped up until about a month later when it happened again. Repeat the process, chalk it up to a cold, windy day, and continue on, only slightly perturbed. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That summer the water heater continued to function normally. Then last winter, the pilot light went out again. Another re-light and all seemed well, until it went out again a few days later. And then a week later. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we gave up and called in the professionals. And they couldn't reproduce the problem. That water heater performed perfectly the entire time they were there, even during tests to force the pilot light to go out. They thought maybe it just needed a good cleaning, so they polished it up and took $120 for the time to look at a perfectly functional water heater. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then it went out again the next day. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By spring, it was working fine again, so Aaron and I did what we do best in home improvement situations and ignored it. Not the best solution, I'm aware.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then a few weeks ago? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
C'mon, everyone say it with me:&lt;i&gt; "it went out AGAIN!"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Only this time the pilot light is going out nearly every day. Sometimes twice a day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm waving the white flag. The water heater has broken me.&amp;nbsp;I don't know about you, but I strongly dislike like cold showers. And I really hate &lt;i&gt;surprise&lt;/i&gt; cold showers when I'm expecting hot. Even worse is when the water heater fools me into thinking everything is fine at first and then runs cold just as I lather up my hair. I can't abort the shower at that point, right? I'm committed now, and have to suffer through at least rinsing out the shampoo, applying conditioner, and rinsing again while violently shivering and cursing. And curse words don't sound nearly as dramatic when said through chattering teeth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not thrilled at spending a lot of money on a new water heater. But I'm tired of&amp;nbsp;playing hot water Russian roulette, too. I never realized how grumpy a lack of hot water can make me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So the plan is to have a new water heater by the end of the week. Or start buying dry shampoo in bulk.&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(This is also the point where my mother reminds me that when she was a child they had no indoor plumbing and took baths by heating water on the stove to fill the tub once for everyone in the family.&amp;nbsp;Oldest got to bathe first, and the youngest child (her) was the last to be bathed and therefore got the coldest water. OK fine, mom, I'm spoiled by my hot water.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-5537828873790906842?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/Vkq_XzvOOxc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/5537828873790906842/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=5537828873790906842" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/5537828873790906842?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/5537828873790906842?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/Vkq_XzvOOxc/appreciating-hot-water-especially-when.html" title="Appreciating Hot Water (Especially When It's Gone)" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-am82YJp5YZA/TyANrxKluyI/AAAAAAAACz8/6Yr6tHcyIjg/s72-c/hot-water.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2012/01/appreciating-hot-water-especially-when.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08EQnc4cSp7ImA9WhRUEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-6841881437219097282</id><published>2012-01-20T19:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T19:30:03.939-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-20T19:30:03.939-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shameless promotion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="domestic zero" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="snow" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cosmo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shameless bragging" /><title>What I've Been Up To This Week</title><content type="html">It's been a busy week for me. Aside from the normal work, kids, dog, etc., I also had a quick flight out to New York for one of those &lt;a href="http://www.losingmyhind.com/2012/01/my-day-in-nyc-for-slim-fast-studio-wow.html"&gt;"is this really happening to me" moments&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why? I'm now a &lt;a href="http://www.losingmyhind.com/2012/01/ive-got-exciting-news-to-share.html"&gt;brand ambassador for Slim-Fast&lt;/a&gt; for the next 4 months. I'll be updating my progress on Losing My Hind and hosting some giveaways soon on Mommy's Must Haves. But I'll be sure to give you all a heads up here as well so you don't miss out on a chance at some freebies!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now just cross your fingers and hope that the winter storm heading our way doesn't keep us stuck in the house all weekend. Because then I might have to resort to crafts or cooking or something to keep Cordy and Mira entertained, and we all KNOW that usually ends poorly, LOL!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or maybe we'll give this guy his first bath. If I can get him off the kids' furniture.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dkkjSNZ2ZPg/TxoGoQXFDTI/AAAAAAAACz0/-TkikbvMhaI/s1600/408215_10150482549431790_559021789_9068993_1987507032_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dkkjSNZ2ZPg/TxoGoQXFDTI/AAAAAAAACz0/-TkikbvMhaI/s400/408215_10150482549431790_559021789_9068993_1987507032_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
For those of you in the storm's path this weekend - stay warm and safe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-6841881437219097282?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/tL6RG4bB-kY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/6841881437219097282/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=6841881437219097282" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6841881437219097282?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6841881437219097282?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/tL6RG4bB-kY/what-ive-been-up-to-this-week.html" title="What I've Been Up To This Week" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dkkjSNZ2ZPg/TxoGoQXFDTI/AAAAAAAACz0/-TkikbvMhaI/s72-c/408215_10150482549431790_559021789_9068993_1987507032_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2012/01/what-ive-been-up-to-this-week.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08ESHszeCp7ImA9WhRVF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-3892344778486845799</id><published>2012-01-16T09:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T09:56:49.580-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-16T09:56:49.580-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="me me me" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="big issues" /><title>Not So Funny?</title><content type="html">I was reading through Facebook updates last week and came across an image shared by a friend of mine. Like so many of the word images shared on Facebook, I immediately laughed when I read it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The image?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xXnl-CLWntM/Tw6Y1gK2pqI/AAAAAAAACy4/SaVulNeRX_Y/s1600/390700_10150509576608605_337541338604_8843399_1277734910_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" kba="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xXnl-CLWntM/Tw6Y1gK2pqI/AAAAAAAACy4/SaVulNeRX_Y/s320/390700_10150509576608605_337541338604_8843399_1277734910_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But more interesting was the commentary beneath it. My friend also found this funny, saying this was so like her. Another of her friends, however, replied that as a mother of a child with ADD, she didn't find it funny at all. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hmmm. It make me wonder if I should feel guilty for laughing? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Would this be considered making fun of&amp;nbsp;a disability? I don't know. I mean, for many types of humor, there is often a nugget of truth that is exaggerated for comedic effect, or a stereotype stretched to a ridiculous extent. If I was to be offended by any exaggeration of a personality trait, physical trait or behavior, I'd pretty much have to avoid every comedy club and never watch The Daily Show ever again. I'd really miss Jon Stewart. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I don't know if laughing at something like the image above is equal to teasing the kid who is different on the playground. My take on the image is also a little different because I actually have ADD. I read that statement and think, "Hell yeah, I've had days not too different from that!" Days when I'm in a full contact wrestling match with my mind to pin down a little focus -&amp;nbsp;on &lt;i&gt;any&lt;/i&gt; topic, I don't&amp;nbsp;even care which one&amp;nbsp;-&amp;nbsp;just for a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I read that and see the nugget of truth. It IS hard to focus with ADD. I've had moments where friends stare at me strangely because I've jumped topics in such a way that they don't see the connection.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the other hand, I can understand her friend not finding it funny. We all have our trigger issues that we don't see any humor in. I'm certain her friend does have rough days caring for a child with ADD. As a mom of a daughter with autism, I get it. Years ago, when Cordy was newly diagnosed, I wouldn't have found any jokes about autism funny, either. I can respect her view, because no one can tell someone else what is or isn't funny to them. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For me, however, I do appreciate the humor. As long as it isn't intended in a harmful or mean-spirited nature or intended to tease one person, poking fun at ADD, or any other condition, in a gentle way is fine with me. I even appreciate a good autism joke - Cordy and I have learned to laugh at some of the more silly aspects of autism, of which there are MANY if you look closely enough. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It also boils down to a simple mantra for me: laugh or cry. There are moments when I need, need, NEED to pay attention, to focus, to not screw up some important task that I must stay on track to complete. Sometimes I win out; other times I fail. I can either choose to cry in frustration at my limitations, or I can laugh at them and move on. One way is certainly less depressing than the other. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I apologize if you read the above joke on ADD and are offended, because no offense was intended. (Whoa, that rhymed. Sorry, I tried writing that sentence another way and it didn't sound nearly as good.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also don't know if it's more acceptable to laugh at an ADD joke posted by someone who has ADD, but if so, laugh away. I certainly did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(PS - It took me a week and about a dozen starts and stops to write this post. Can you tell it's been a rough week? See? This is me choosing to laugh.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-3892344778486845799?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/b2hW3VcsuEE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/3892344778486845799/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=3892344778486845799" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/3892344778486845799?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/3892344778486845799?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/b2hW3VcsuEE/not-so-funny.html" title="Not So Funny?" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xXnl-CLWntM/Tw6Y1gK2pqI/AAAAAAAACy4/SaVulNeRX_Y/s72-c/390700_10150509576608605_337541338604_8843399_1277734910_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2012/01/not-so-funny.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcCQnc6fip7ImA9WhRVEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-3954791529224061623</id><published>2012-01-09T08:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T08:51:03.916-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T08:51:03.916-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="growing up" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kid logic" /><title>Short Hair</title><content type="html">Cordy is a child that prefers everything exactly the way it has always been. She has a routine she likes to follow, and any deviation generally results in drama. Her meals are from a short list of acceptable foods and have to be served in the right order; for example,&amp;nbsp;macaroni and cheese is appropriate for lunch if we're out at a restaurant, but at home it can only be a dinner, and a sandwich is the obvious lunch choice. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So when it comes to Cordy's hair, she's resistant to change. She's always had long hair, mostly due to fear of cutting it. In the past, I've had to sneak in at-home trimming sessions when she was distracted just to keep that thick head of hair under some pretense of control. It knots up with just a gentle breeze passing by, and attempts to comb her hair are met with screams and tears. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've tried to find out why she doesn't want her hair cut when it clearly bothers her so much to care for it when it's long. She's told me everything from it keeps her warm to she's afraid people will think she's a boy if it's short. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the fall we had luck with getting Cordy's first professional haircut, although she refused to let us cut off much of it. The appointment was still full of some drama, with Cordy occasionally crying and begging the stylist to stop, but we survived. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The problem with hair is that it keeps growing. And so this weekend, as I ripped through masses of knots in her hair, I decided it was time for another haircut. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But this time was different. "I want a haircut," Cordy told me. What? Who is this kid? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"And I want it short, mommy."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wait...did I hear that right? The girl who has insisted she'll never have short hair now wants it short?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy held her hand up to the top of her ear. "I want to cut it up to here!" she proclaimed. I then explained just how short that was and asked if we could not go &lt;i&gt;quite that extreme&lt;/i&gt; and maybe aim for a cute bob instead? She agreed, but I wasn't sure she'd go through with it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Saturday afternoon we took both girls to the salon for their haircuts. Mira, who had no issues last time, happily sat for her trim to get her curly bob bouncy again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My change-phobic Cordy completely surprised me. She was upbeat, she held still for the stylist, she didn't cry or scream when she was combing through her thick hair, and she got it all cut off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SUWCQp3Lk3Y/TwrrmSvcHKI/AAAAAAAACyg/uK6L4d1njJA/s1600/cordyhair2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SUWCQp3Lk3Y/TwrrmSvcHKI/AAAAAAAACyg/uK6L4d1njJA/s400/cordyhair2.JPG" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You could make another kid from all that hair.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
When she was done, I barely recognized my own child.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NDjAr2yCFvc/TwrrxXLiEdI/AAAAAAAACyo/9tpWGqP9DFI/s1600/Cordyhair1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NDjAr2yCFvc/TwrrxXLiEdI/AAAAAAAACyo/9tpWGqP9DFI/s400/Cordyhair1.JPG" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Excuse me, kid, have you seen a mop-headed little gir...oh. Wait...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As for Cordy? She loves her new haircut! She immediately grinned and said she can't wait to "trick all the boys" because they won't know it's her. (I'd like to think it's because they like her, but she then said they won't tease her if they don't know it's her. Hmmm...must follow up on that, pronto.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now that she's got the short hair,&amp;nbsp;I'm kinda missing her wild mane. Sure, we fought constantly over it, but it was gorgeous despite the knots. Her new cut is really cute, though. Washing and combing it will be &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; easy to get used to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I now understand why&amp;nbsp;my mom insisted I&amp;nbsp;have short hair all through elementary school. Eeeeaaassy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sbM6VXQN6zA/TwruPNLq4sI/AAAAAAAACyw/MZ4godVziPI/s1600/SCAN0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sbM6VXQN6zA/TwruPNLq4sI/AAAAAAAACyw/MZ4godVziPI/s320/SCAN0066.JPG" width="236" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;I was kind enough to avoid bangs for Cordy, however.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Yes, that's me. Age 8.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-3954791529224061623?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/MBfZ16Ssi6g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/3954791529224061623/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=3954791529224061623" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/3954791529224061623?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/3954791529224061623?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/MBfZ16Ssi6g/short-hair.html" title="Short Hair" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SUWCQp3Lk3Y/TwrrmSvcHKI/AAAAAAAACyg/uK6L4d1njJA/s72-c/cordyhair2.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2012/01/short-hair.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEARnY6cSp7ImA9WhRWFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-1203298349060984927</id><published>2012-01-02T08:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T08:24:07.819-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-02T08:24:07.819-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="me me me" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family time" /><title>Another Year, Another Chance To Do More</title><content type="html">Well, hello there 2012. Pleased to meet you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With 2011 officially in the history books, I can now reflect back on the year that has passed. I didn't have a lot of &lt;a href="http://www.amommystory.com/2011/01/resolutions-are-for-quitters.html"&gt;lofty goals for the year&lt;/a&gt;, but I'm happy to say that many good things I wanted to see happen did&amp;nbsp;materialize in&amp;nbsp;2011. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aaron finding a permanent job? Yep, &lt;a href="http://www.amommystory.com/2011/09/wait-how-is-it-september-already.html"&gt;that happened&lt;/a&gt; in the fall, and he loves his job. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me getting a permanent position and health insurance? Well, no on the first, but we did get health insurance through Aaron's job, so that's a win. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lose another 20 pounds? Not quite. I did finish the year 12 pounds lighter than the end of 2010 (and lost 12 pounds the year before that, too), so I'm quite content with the trend. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More time with the kids? On a daily basis, I'm still disappointed with how little quality time I get with Cordy and Mira. But we did have some fantastic family experiences this year, including a trip to &lt;a href="http://amommystoryreviews.blogspot.com/2011/08/lake-erie-cedar-point-day-1-get-away.html"&gt;Cedar Point&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://amommystoryreviews.blogspot.com/2011/08/lake-erie-cedar-point-day-2-getaway.html"&gt;Lake Erie&lt;/a&gt; and our annual vacation to &lt;a href="http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/our-weekend-great-wolf-lodge-getaway.html"&gt;Great Wolf Lodge&lt;/a&gt;. Aaron and I agreed that we need to do more small vacations like these in the future, because the memories stick with us far longer than any toy or game we could give the kids. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still spent 2011 carrying a lot of stress and feeling very uninteresting. But I did get away to two fantastic &lt;a href="http://www.amommystory.com/2011/02/blissdom-bloggy-love.html"&gt;blogging&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.amommystory.com/2011/08/i-still-havent-recovered-from-blogher.html"&gt;conferences&lt;/a&gt; and felt inspired to start shaping a plan of how I intend to find myself and my happiness again in 2012. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2011 ended better than 2010 (which was better than 2009, etc...) and I'm incredibly grateful for such a strong end to the year. We're still fighting our way back from the low point in 2008, but we're determined to keep making each year better than the last. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So then...what's on the menu for 2012?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First up: FIND MYSELF. I can't stress this one enough. Through the past few years, I feel like my inner self, my soul, has been washed away in a tide of stress, responsibilities and duty to conform. If I were to be handed a blank piece of paper today and asked to write a short description of who I am - leaving out physical descriptions, job and relationship titles, and medical conditions - I'd be at a loss to come up with little more than I like blue and Lady Gaga, and chocolate chip cookies are my favorite cookie.&amp;nbsp;I guess it's a start, right? Time to&amp;nbsp;fill up that blank paper with a little more substance by rediscovering myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Health and wellness continue to be important for me this year, too. I've lost 12 pounds for each of the past two years, so another 12 this year would have me right on the edge of a "healthy" weight. I've done it the past two years; I can do it this year as well. I've also got a great blogging opportunity coming up soon to help me with this goal. (More on that as soon as I can share it!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Other than that, I'm not setting any additional expectations on the year. Better to keep my wishes open ended rather than get smacked down by the universe for being greedy in expecting too much. I'm ready to actively find and embrace some good, in whatever form of good the year chooses to reveal to me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So let's make it a damn fine year, 2012. Because if, in the first early minutes of 2013, I can reflect back and declare 2012 to be even better than 2011, I'll consider it another winning year and be so very thankful for the continuing upward trend. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Couldn't we all use a&amp;nbsp;lengthy streak of good luck?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-1203298349060984927?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/OwRtQ2iiTmQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/1203298349060984927/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=1203298349060984927" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/1203298349060984927?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/1203298349060984927?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/OwRtQ2iiTmQ/another-year-another-chance-to-do-more.html" title="Another Year, Another Chance To Do More" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2012/01/another-year-another-chance-to-do-more.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkENRHYyfSp7ImA9WhRWEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-3342224075237937973</id><published>2011-12-28T08:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T08:58:15.895-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-28T08:58:15.895-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cosmo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="clearly insane" /><title>Cosmo the Wonder Pup</title><content type="html">As if my house wasn't already enough of a zoo, we added a new species to the mix just before Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meet Cosmo:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvQvOPDavvk/Tvsd6uzYC4I/AAAAAAAACxk/qcbkkgYGqEg/s1600/IMG_1438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvQvOPDavvk/Tvsd6uzYC4I/AAAAAAAACxk/qcbkkgYGqEg/s320/IMG_1438.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cosmo is a 5 month mixed breed (mutt) we met through a rescue group. He was found nearly starved to death on the street at 3 months old, and was nursed back to health by the rescue group.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We've been considering getting a dog for quite a while. Some of Cordy's doctors and therapists had suggested that a dog could be beneficial for her. She's often shy to demonstrate anything new to other people, but she might be more willing to practice new skills with only the dog to witness. (And unlike people, the dog can't judge her ability.) Cordy also is very interested in animals, so a dog would hopefully serve as a good companion for her as well. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aaron also grew up with a dog, and has always enjoyed dogs. I've always been a cat person myself, but can certainly see the appeal of a canine companion. We've had the dog discussion several times for over a year. We have a fenced yard, our work schedules are compatible with the needs of a dog, and our kids are old enough to help with the care of a dog. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last month we finally agreed it might be time to consider adding a new pet to our family. So at the beginning of December we went to Mingle With The Mutts, a monthly event held by our county animal shelter that encourages other rescue groups to bring adoptable dogs in for people to come meet. It was there we met Cosmo, and Cordy immediately fell for him. (OK...we all did.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4fC0T-7YGMs/TvseZ-Rk7DI/AAAAAAAACxw/nSgeNNCu2Oo/s1600/IMG_1361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4fC0T-7YGMs/TvseZ-Rk7DI/AAAAAAAACxw/nSgeNNCu2Oo/s320/IMG_1361.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Beginning of Dec, only 25 lbs. Did I mention he gained 15lbs in 3 weeks? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I still went back and forth on the idea of a dog. Change is hard for me, and this kind of life change is a huge decision to make. I'm already the one who takes care of the cats 99% of the time - I refused to be the one mostly caring for a dog as well. And how much of a disruption would a dog be in my life?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We addressed my serious concerns and Aaron talked me down from any freak outs, pointing out that people far less responsible than us have successfully kept dogs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So last Friday we welcomed Cosmo into our home. The benefit of adopting an older puppy is that he's already house trained, crate trained, and knows some basic commands. He still tries to eat anything small - including a few crayon bits that were quickly swallowed - so we're constantly reminding Cordy and Mira to keep their toys upstairs. (Cosmo is limited to the downstairs only.) I guess in one way he's helping me keep our downstairs clutter free!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1czF24_4dcw/Tvse82mSk9I/AAAAAAAACx8/Fx9jLbuxjxc/s1600/IMG_1437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1czF24_4dcw/Tvse82mSk9I/AAAAAAAACx8/Fx9jLbuxjxc/s320/IMG_1437.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Have teeth, will chew.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He's still a puppy, though, and needs to go outside every few hours, but can go as long as 6-7 hours if required. Seeing how no adult in this house sleeps more than 6-7 hours anyway, that's not a problem at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And even though he knows some commands, we're still signing up for basic training classes. A couple of episodes of the Dog Whisperer have taught me that I know very little about dog psychology and need to learn how to properly assert alpha status over our new pack member.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_7dHKBVUX9Q/Tvsfpk49jvI/AAAAAAAACyU/B_t9aihdl10/s1600/lapdog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_7dHKBVUX9Q/Tvsfpk49jvI/AAAAAAAACyU/B_t9aihdl10/s320/lapdog.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Here? I'm failing at being alpha.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So for now I'm happy to have our new pup, and terrified at how we'll all adjust. Most of that fear is just my fear of the unknown. Truthfully, Cosmo's addition to the family has added about 10-15 minutes of additional work to my schedule each day; not a big deal at all, really. The cats are the most traumatized - one of them hasn't come downstairs since Friday. Good thing their food, water, and litterboxes are upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cosmo is a new adventure for us, and despite my worries, I'm looking forward to the joy he'll add to the family. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/UTSr2TxtX-4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/3342224075237937973/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=3342224075237937973" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/3342224075237937973?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/3342224075237937973?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/UTSr2TxtX-4/cosmo-wonder-pup.html" title="Cosmo the Wonder Pup" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvQvOPDavvk/Tvsd6uzYC4I/AAAAAAAACxk/qcbkkgYGqEg/s72-c/IMG_1438.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/12/cosmo-wonder-pup.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AAQXk-fip7ImA9WhRXFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-6268720990653300177</id><published>2011-12-23T08:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T08:09:00.756-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-23T08:09:00.756-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="people who don't suck" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ain't too proud to beg" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pop culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mira" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>And A Pinkie Pie On Every Tree</title><content type="html">One of the things I love about blogging and social media is the ability to have a direct line to the people who can help you out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For example, Cordy and Mira love &lt;a href="http://www.hubworld.com/my-little-pony/shows/friendship-is-magic"&gt;My Little Pony&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wait...I don't think that's quite strong enough. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I meant to say was: Cordy and Mira &lt;em&gt;LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!&lt;/em&gt; My Little Pony. They can't get enough of the new show on the Hub network, and our house is now filled with ponies and accessories. It's nearly the only TV they watch. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Each year we let the girls pick a new ornament to add to the Christmas tree. It's fun to see how their interests change each year by looking back at the ornaments they choose. So of course when it came time to select this year's ornament (and knowing that this is the year of My Little Pony for both kids), I did a little internet searching and discovered that American Greetings made a 2011 My Little Pony Pinkie Pie Christmas ornament. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perfect!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One problem, though. The ornament was &lt;a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=12302788&amp;amp;prodFindSrc=search"&gt;sold out everywhere&lt;/a&gt;. It seems My Little Pony has &lt;em&gt;an enormous adult fan following&lt;/em&gt;, and once word got out about the ornaments, they were quickly bought up. Sold out online. Sold out in our local stores, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I looked at resellers to buy one, but I refused to get into a bidding war on eBay and spend $30+ on a $7.99 ornament. I didn't want to&amp;nbsp;reward someone for buying up all the ornaments to turn a profit with the collector crowd. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I did what any desperate blogger might think to do - I reached out via Twitter, asking &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#!/amgreetings"&gt;American Greetings&lt;/a&gt; for their help in tracking down an ornament. I explained that my two daughters are fans of the show and really wanted this ornament for our Christmas tree this year. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was hoping they might be able to tell me if there was somewhere online to buy one, or if they planned to send out another shipment soon. I was happy to pay for one, I just needed an actual ornament to buy. They quickly responded that they would look into it for me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I waited for days and didn't hear anything further.&amp;nbsp;I wasn't sure how much they could help - if it's sold out, it's sold out, right?&amp;nbsp;So I was completely unprepared for them to go above and beyond and respond with this: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eyl0Q6ziR6E/TvROEUVlrlI/AAAAAAAACwc/mpucBOUwXB4/s1600/tweet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" rea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eyl0Q6ziR6E/TvROEUVlrlI/AAAAAAAACwc/mpucBOUwXB4/s400/tweet.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And then yesterday, a perfect Pinkie Pie ornament showed up in the mail. Two little girls cheered with joy and Cordy declared the &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#!/amgreetings"&gt;@amgreetings&lt;/a&gt; Twitter maven "the nicest person in the world!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5oTZZsTSrlw/TvRP9mlqq1I/AAAAAAAACwo/6V12cZKVLko/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" rea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5oTZZsTSrlw/TvRP9mlqq1I/AAAAAAAACwo/6V12cZKVLko/s400/photo.JPG" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The dreary, rainy day yesterday suddenly got A LOT brighter for these two.﻿&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So now Pinkie Pie has joined the cast of animated characters on our tree. As befitting her importance at this moment, she's front and center:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YGPK1PiaUIY/TvRQRp3SPDI/AAAAAAAACw0/b1qDfEeRPjE/s1600/photo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" rea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YGPK1PiaUIY/TvRQRp3SPDI/AAAAAAAACw0/b1qDfEeRPjE/s400/photo2.jpg" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;with Batman climbing up for a visit on the lower right﻿&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Have I mentioned social media&amp;nbsp;is awesome? Thank you, American Greetings,&amp;nbsp;for helping this mom get the perfect 2011 ornament for my daughters!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;(And just because this is the new era of full disclosure: yes, American Greetings did send it to us for free, unexpectedly. There was no agreed on review or anything like that - I just wanted to share my joy at a company doing something really, really nice for my family.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-6268720990653300177?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/C674PHm_5Jk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/6268720990653300177/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=6268720990653300177" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6268720990653300177?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6268720990653300177?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/C674PHm_5Jk/and-pinkie-pie-on-every-tree.html" title="And A Pinkie Pie On Every Tree" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eyl0Q6ziR6E/TvROEUVlrlI/AAAAAAAACwc/mpucBOUwXB4/s72-c/tweet.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/12/and-pinkie-pie-on-every-tree.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIMQX4_fCp7ImA9WhRXE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-1932710763548367200</id><published>2011-12-20T08:43:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T08:43:00.044-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-20T08:43:00.044-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mira" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family time" /><title>Even The Muppets Can Be Dangerous</title><content type="html">I realize I don't share as many stories about Mira on this blog. It's not that there aren't stories to tell, they just tend to be short and sweet, even if the subject herself is FULL of drama.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh yes, Mira is the supreme high ruler of drama. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Being an only child, I've never really understood sibling rivalry, but I'm often told that a younger child will often try to be the opposite of their older sibling in an attempt to stand out. After Cordy's diagnosis with autism, we held our breath during Mira's babyhood, waiting to see if she would follow the same path of development. But Mira had different plans. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was given an evaluation when she was nearly three, and it was made very clear that although Mira had a significant speech delay at that time, there was no question that this was a social and engaging little person. She's in-your-face, guerrilla-style social - if you're not paying attention to her, she will make sure you notice. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so while Cordy prefers to be alone, keeps her thoughts to herself, avoids new experiences and changes in routine, and has little opinion about her appearance, Mira has proven to be the opposite. She's loud, opinionated, craves new experiences, hates being alone, and demands to wear dresses as much as possible so she can "look pretty." She always wants to be the center of attention.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While Mira is the life of the party, there's one other difference between the two sisters that I wish wasn't there. Cordy is often careful in her movements like a cat. Mira? Mira prefers to move first, think second like an overexcited golden retriever. She's blissfully unconcerned with where her body is moving in space as long as it gets there quickly. Or until it meets an object abruptly while traveling at high velocity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mira is a klutz. Thank goodness I didn't name her Grace, because that would have been tragically ironic. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I absolutely love her enthusiasm over &lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt;, but too often she ends up hurt when she's not paying attention. Mira can take any normal, routine activity and turn it into an extreme sport. Walking across a room can result in a sudden loss of balance (tripping on air?) and crumbling to the ground. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Walking down the stairs isn't even safe when holding the rail.&amp;nbsp;Holding the rail as she falls only leads to her twisting her body until her hand snaps free so she does a full barrel roll the rest of the way down. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Attempting to sit down in a chair can lead to bouncing her head off the table and ricocheting her body onto the floor several feet away. (True story. Happened in her preschool class. Her teachers were amazed she was OK.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Going to watch The Muppets at the movie theater can lead to...well...this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P0EptSQ31Ls/TvBsI9RCYXI/AAAAAAAACvg/QMqfItyP_VE/s1600/94d759a0291a11e1a87612313804ec91_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P0EptSQ31Ls/TvBsI9RCYXI/AAAAAAAACvg/QMqfItyP_VE/s320/94d759a0291a11e1a87612313804ec91_7.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(And before anyone wonders - she ASKED me to take a photo of it.)&lt;/em&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Fifteen minutes before the end of the movie on Saturday night, Mira had to use the bathroom. Aaron quickly took her out of the theater and they were back within five minutes with no drama. But as she was walking down the row to get back to her seat (and AFTER stepping over my purse&amp;nbsp;without catching her foot on it) she somehow ended&amp;nbsp;up on the floor. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She started to cry, so I scooped her up into my lap and shushed her, telling her it was OK and she was fine and the movie was nearly over and &lt;em&gt;hey, look at those silly muppets&lt;/em&gt;! She tried to stop crying but couldn't, and it wasn't until I finally turned to look at her face in the dim theater that I noticed the "tears" running down from her eye looked awfully dark.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When Mira took that trip to the floor, it appears that she tried to stop her fall against the metal seat legs. &lt;em&gt;With her face.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At that point it looked like the whole area around her eye was bloody and I couldn't tell where it was coming from. I ran out of the theater with her and into the bathroom, grabbing handfuls of paper towels to stop the bleeding from the gash next to her eye. Thankfully the eye itself looked unharmed, even if she managed to injure nearly three-quarters of the space around her eye. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once the bleeding slowed down (and Mira was no longer freaking out) I took her out to the front lobby and begged for some ice to put on her eye. At that point she was telling the lobby attendant how she had to leave the movie when it was really sad. Rollin' with the punches, that kid - she would rather talk about how the movie was sad rather than recall how she nearly took out her eye. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday she told her entire class the story of how she clobbered herself while watching The Muppets, with appropriate dramatic pauses and a little acting it out, so I think she'll be OK.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope she might learn to be more careful after accidents like these, but deep down I know she'll find new ways to injure herself soon. At least she's got a knack for drama, so she'll always be able to spin it into a fantastic story for her friends. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No&amp;nbsp;amount of spin&amp;nbsp;is going to calm my nerves, however.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-1932710763548367200?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/khtLl3BoqvQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/1932710763548367200/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=1932710763548367200" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/1932710763548367200?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/1932710763548367200?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/khtLl3BoqvQ/even-muppets-can-be-dangerous.html" title="Even The Muppets Can Be Dangerous" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P0EptSQ31Ls/TvBsI9RCYXI/AAAAAAAACvg/QMqfItyP_VE/s72-c/94d759a0291a11e1a87612313804ec91_7.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/12/even-muppets-can-be-dangerous.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4BR306cSp7ImA9WhRQGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-6142601443582281814</id><published>2011-12-15T08:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T09:22:36.319-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-15T09:22:36.319-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shameless bragging" /><title>Not A Cover Girl, But Still Special</title><content type="html">Locals might want to pick up a (free) copy of Columbus Parent Magazine before the end of the month. While Cordy didn't win the cover model contest, she was one of the five finalists, which means if you get this month's issue you'll have the chance to see this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PvAMpmSndK8/Tum6Uxb2mdI/AAAAAAAACu4/wKZgTZmtKwo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PvAMpmSndK8/Tum6Uxb2mdI/AAAAAAAACu4/wKZgTZmtKwo/s400/photo.JPG" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sure, they got her age wrong, but it's exciting to see a photo of our warrior princess in print! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hurry to get your copy before I grab every last one to give to family. (And stash several in a memory box!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-6142601443582281814?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/FHiKGyBD1QI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/6142601443582281814/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=6142601443582281814" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6142601443582281814?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6142601443582281814?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/FHiKGyBD1QI/not-cover-girl-but-still-special.html" title="Not A Cover Girl, But Still Special" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PvAMpmSndK8/Tum6Uxb2mdI/AAAAAAAACu4/wKZgTZmtKwo/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/12/not-cover-girl-but-still-special.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQHR306eSp7ImA9WhRQF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-5724347907942358221</id><published>2011-12-12T08:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T09:32:16.311-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-12T09:32:16.311-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="plague" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sick child" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="me me me" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mira" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Aaron" /><title>The (Not So) Great Plague of 2011</title><content type="html">Well, hello there. Got a little quiet in here, didn't it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'd like to say I was too busy with fantastic adventures since I last wrote a post, but the truth is my entire family was brought to its knees thanks to a microscopic villain. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It all started just over a week ago.We had a family outing that Friday to my company's annual holiday party. Everyone was in good spirits at the party. Mira got her face painted:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CYnxpjQaOUU/TuXg5CPkr1I/AAAAAAAACuw/2vblpfzidhg/s1600/41477e8c1d5311e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" mda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CYnxpjQaOUU/TuXg5CPkr1I/AAAAAAAACuw/2vblpfzidhg/s200/41477e8c1d5311e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Rainbow butterfly FTW﻿&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy visited with Santa:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-roNl1kT1v9U/TuXOLUYqyqI/AAAAAAAACuo/_BGzurq0m5U/s1600/_MG_1754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" mda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-roNl1kT1v9U/TuXOLUYqyqI/AAAAAAAACuo/_BGzurq0m5U/s320/_MG_1754.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And all I want for Christmas is to get away from this creepy bearded guy...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
That night we arrived home full of happiness and holiday cheer, tucked the children into their beds, and then tucked ourselves into our new (Black Friday sale) bed that had just been delivered earlier that day. Ahhh...domestic bliss.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then Mira started vomiting at 3:30am. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aaron and I changed her sheets, cleaned her up, and put her back to bed. I started the washing machine and went back to bed myself. We thought maybe it was too many cookies before bed that caused it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Half an hour later, she threw up again. Change sheets, clean her up, put her back to bed, set old sheets near washing machine. Back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thirty minutes later...well, you can probably guess the pattern at this point. It reached a point that I ran out of sheets and had her sleeping on towels. Towels that I still had to change every&amp;nbsp;thirty minutes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aaron got up with her eventually and moved her downstairs. At least if he was nearby he could get a bucket to her when she started to feel sick, thereby sparing us more laundry. Every time she was sick, I was meticulous about cleaning up with antibacterial soap and insisted we wash our hands well. It could have been the cookies, but I didn't want to take any chances. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By the end of the day on Saturday, Mira was mostly back to normal. She ate dinner, teased her sister, and it seemed the worst was over. Sunday morning and afternoon were also happily boring and normal. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took a nap Sunday afternoon to prepare for going to work that night, and when I woke up I discovered Aaron now felt ill. Within an hour his nausea turned into a full stomach virus with all the symptoms you can imagine. The cookies were now no longer being blamed on Mira's illness. I put the girls to bed on my own, as Aaron was completely down and out at this point. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I felt completely fine at this point, so I made myself dinner then showered and prepared for work. Suddenly at&amp;nbsp;9:30pm, my stomach felt a little off. I still had an hour before I had to leave, and made the decision that a quick nap would make everything better. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Half an hour later, I knew I had been conquered by the viral army. I called off work, told Aaron I was sick, too (he was still camped out on the couch) and went back up to bed. It didn't take long before the vomiting started. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Twelve hours later, the vomiting finally stopped. Like Mira, I threw up at least every thirty minutes all night long. I didn't sleep, and I was hot and then cold all night long. I stayed in bed all day the next day, and by evening I still didn't feel strong enough to even walk downstairs or eat anything. No work again that night. Aaron (who had mostly recovered by this point) brought me Sprite to sip and took care of the girls that evening. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tuesday morning, I felt a little better. I ate a little bit of toast and had finally gone downstairs. I was thankful to be over this virus, and thankful Cordy had avoided it. Aaron told me how she had avoided us the past two days, saying she didn't want to touch either of us for fear of getting sick. Poor kid - she was so scared of getting sick.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which is why I felt even worse when the school called at 2:30pm that day to say Cordy had just lost her lunch on the office floor. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn't go to work again that night. I still felt weak, and poor Cordy spent the night delirious from being sick, drifting in and out of a restless sleep, talking to no one, and constantly moving as if she couldn't get comfortable. Aaron and I took turns being with her and as a result got little sleep ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wednesday morning, Cordy finally snapped out of it. She was tired, but was at least making sense when you talked to her. By mid-afternoon she was asking for food and by evening she was back to normal. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still wasn't feeling great, but went to work that night anyway. While the rest of the family had fully recovered, I couldn't entirely rid myself of the nausea and an odd, dizzy feeling. The feeling was still there when I woke up Thursday afternoon, so as soon as Aaron got home I went to urgent care. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The result? Double ear infection. Apparently this wasn't my week. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I started antibiotics that night, and then spent the weekend trying to catch up from everything I'd missed during the week. Sadly, the world doesn't pause when you're sick, and I never realized how fast email could pile up in an inbox. (Or laundry in a hamper. Ugh.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the moment I'm mostly back to normal. I'm not entirely convinced the antibiotics are strong enough to do the job, but I'll give them a few more days to prove themselves. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It seems the evil stomach virus that brought down all of us has been making its way into many homes this week. I guess I should be thankful we got it out of the way before Christmas. We've had far too many Christmas celebrations that ended with someone sick. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So that was my last week or so. How are you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-5724347907942358221?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/Gm3UIKighIc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/5724347907942358221/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=5724347907942358221" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/5724347907942358221?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/5724347907942358221?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/Gm3UIKighIc/plague-of-2011.html" title="The (Not So) Great Plague of 2011" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CYnxpjQaOUU/TuXg5CPkr1I/AAAAAAAACuw/2vblpfzidhg/s72-c/41477e8c1d5311e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/12/plague-of-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQAQHk5eyp7ImA9WhRRFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-301424871780522630</id><published>2011-11-29T08:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T08:29:01.723-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-29T08:29:01.723-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="money" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pop culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shameless bragging" /><title>Winning at Black Friday</title><content type="html">The sales this year promised some amazing deals. And most of them required you to stand out in the rain and cold for half of Thanksgiving if you wanted any chance at the hot doorbuster items. Seems like a lot of suffering for a cheap waffle maker.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me? I waited for a total of 20 minutes combined at all of the stores I went to. I don't mess around on Black Friday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First, I took advantage of Black Friday online deals. Why wait until Cyber Monday when many of the same Black Friday doorbuster deals are available online on Thanksgiving day? At 6am I scored a new laptop at an incredible discount to replace Aaron's broken laptop, all from the comfort of my computer desk. (And with convenient local store pickup!) I had to click quickly, as they sold out in less than five minutes, but it worked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On Friday, when the checkout line for Kohl's wrapped to the back of the store, I briefly considered not buying the new clothing my two growing kids needed. But then a sales associate announced that anyone who signed up for a Kohl's card that day could go to the front of the line. Bingo. I was out the door quickly. I've been waiting for the right time to sign up for a card, and the right time presented itself. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We also didn't shop for a lot of the big ticket items. The Xbox 360 bundle was hot this year, but we wanted the deal on the Wii as a gift for my aunt. Aaron did have to wait a little for that one at Walmart, but not too long. Everyone else wanted the TVs and Xbox bundles. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But my top score of the shopping weekend? A new mattress. (Exciting, no?) Macy's had a mattress set for $249, normally $850. My lumpy mattress has been a constant source of back pain and poor sleep for quite some time. So I was in line when the doors opened at midnight for that one, and made sure I was the first to the mattress department. It's a lovely mattress with a great warranty and I can't wait to sleep on it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I honestly hate the crowds and the frenzy of Black Friday, but I do appreciate the deep discounts on items I'm looking for. The key is to stick to the sale items, and really think about what you need versus what the hype is telling you to buy. We bought a few gifts and a few must-have items for our house that we were already planning to buy, and we saved well over $1200 compared to what we would have paid for these same items if they weren't on sale.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which means when it comes to Black Friday shopping, I think I can safely say I won.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyone else get any great deals online or in the store this weekend?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-301424871780522630?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/sDmAkV8dep8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/301424871780522630/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=301424871780522630" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/301424871780522630?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/301424871780522630?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/sDmAkV8dep8/winning-at-black-friday.html" title="Winning at Black Friday" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/winning-at-black-friday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8DRXY7eip7ImA9WhRREUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-8383509532605910263</id><published>2011-11-24T18:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T18:37:54.802-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-24T18:37:54.802-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type="html">To everyone in the US, I hope you're having a fantastic Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today, I'm thankful that Aaron and I have jobs and thanks to his new job, we have health insurance. I'm thankful that we have enough to cover our needs and some of our wants. I'm thankful for friends, both close by and those close only in heart from our connection across the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But mostly, I'm thankful for these people:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1WeLB-Q4vqM/Ts7TTw8rKgI/AAAAAAAACt4/-wryza_LBJ8/s1600/308246_10150337117935910_101014325909_8509096_1587670968_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1WeLB-Q4vqM/Ts7TTw8rKgI/AAAAAAAACt4/-wryza_LBJ8/s400/308246_10150337117935910_101014325909_8509096_1587670968_n.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7RSJXIBfpeY/Ts7TaUBbjxI/AAAAAAAACuI/0CQWWzCAHfI/s1600/297008_10150337123195910_101014325909_8509142_17080853_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7RSJXIBfpeY/Ts7TaUBbjxI/AAAAAAAACuI/0CQWWzCAHfI/s400/297008_10150337123195910_101014325909_8509142_17080853_n.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--uKjHFatGIk/Ts7TZszBJuI/AAAAAAAACuA/hVHR8Wc-_ag/s1600/321242_10150337119980910_101014325909_8509114_37852654_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--uKjHFatGIk/Ts7TZszBJuI/AAAAAAAACuA/hVHR8Wc-_ag/s400/321242_10150337119980910_101014325909_8509114_37852654_n.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My husband and my daughters are my heart. They guide each decision I make and provide worth to everything I do. I treasure every hug and kiss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What are you thankful for tonight? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(PS - And I'm thankful for my friend &lt;a href="http://www.heatherdurdil.com/"&gt;Heather&lt;/a&gt;, who has the magic touch at capturing my family in photos.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-8383509532605910263?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/9pzs4Uk0Fjg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/8383509532605910263/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=8383509532605910263" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8383509532605910263?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8383509532605910263?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/9pzs4Uk0Fjg/happy-thanksgiving.html" title="Happy Thanksgiving!" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1WeLB-Q4vqM/Ts7TTw8rKgI/AAAAAAAACt4/-wryza_LBJ8/s72-c/308246_10150337117935910_101014325909_8509096_1587670968_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08BQnkyfSp7ImA9WhRREEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-7423647140577994813</id><published>2011-11-23T18:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T18:10:53.795-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-23T18:10:53.795-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="me me me" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom blogs" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Happy Blogiversary To Me</title><content type="html">I completely missed my blog's anniversary yesterday. Whoops. Yesterday marked six years since I decided LiveJournal was so 2004 and abandoned it in favor of my own independent blog.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What do I get myself for a blog anniversary? Wikipedia says the sixth anniversary gifts are iron, sugar or wood, depending on which chart you use. I'm holding out for my seventh anniversary: wool. In November, a nice wool sweater or socks would be lovely. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instead, this year I gave myself a little bit of nostalgia. I read back through some of my old blog posts and laughed at how much I forgot. Thank goodness I wrote it all down - there are so many incredible stories of my daughters that I never would have remembered without my little corner of the Internet. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c3w2qkWqFwc/Ts18Pt1j_tI/AAAAAAAACtw/nROLZn8eQP8/s1600/100_1532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c3w2qkWqFwc/Ts18Pt1j_tI/AAAAAAAACtw/nROLZn8eQP8/s320/100_1532.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Oh, how I miss those curls on Cordy...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Six years ago I had one cranky toddler, worked part-time at a university, and weighed about 50 pounds more than I do now. In some ways I was happier - I had more free time, mostly - but in other ways I see how much we were struggling with the adjustment to being parents and the financial strains we were under. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So much was different then. Mira wasn't even a thought yet. Autism was just something I connected with the movie Rain Man. I had yet to start nursing school. Aaron still had long hair. And I still felt like a rookie mom, both overconfident and unsure of everything, all&amp;nbsp;at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I read through my archives, I see&amp;nbsp;how much&amp;nbsp;motherhood has changed me in six years. I'm fighting harder than ever for a better life for my kids. Tolerance for others, the environment, healthier foods, equality, health care, civil rights...it all matters more to me now. Being a special needs mom has also changed my outlook on so many things: that grumpy, strong-willed toddler from the start of this blog is now a charming, beautiful, autistic girl who depends on me to fight for her to get the services she needs to help her cope with this world, as well as understanding from others who may first try to dismiss her due to her autism.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But on this Thanksgiving eve, I'm especially thankful that I started this blog. Coping with all of the changes we've gone through would not have been as easy without this space to write it all out, and the friends I've made through this blog who have been my support when I felt like giving up on everything. The community of moms I've met through blogging has been fantastic - along with my close "real-life" friends, many of my blog friends and commenters have been my shoulders to lean on, my place to turn for advice, and (I hope) I've been able to be the same for them as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you have some time, browse the archives. There are some fantastic and funny posts hidden in there. And some adorable photos of Cordy and Mira, too. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So for all of you still reading, thank you. I'm thankful for having this space to share my life with all of you, and for the friendship and community you've shared with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-7423647140577994813?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/gZOQajlPkiU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/7423647140577994813/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=7423647140577994813" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/7423647140577994813?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/7423647140577994813?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/gZOQajlPkiU/happy-blogiversary-to-me.html" title="Happy Blogiversary To Me" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c3w2qkWqFwc/Ts18Pt1j_tI/AAAAAAAACtw/nROLZn8eQP8/s72-c/100_1532.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/happy-blogiversary-to-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQMQ309eyp7ImA9WhRSGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-8358576280572896292</id><published>2011-11-22T09:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T16:29:42.363-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-22T16:29:42.363-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mira" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Aaron" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family time" /><title>Our Weekend Great Wolf Lodge Getaway</title><content type="html">Life has been a little hectic around here. With my third shift schedule, Aaron's new job that has him out of town some days and working from home other days, and the crazy school bus schedules that our daughters endure, we often only have 1-2 hours at most during the evening where we are together as a family. Of course, most of the time I'm too busy to let it get to me, but then there are times I find myself missing my family and wishing we could spend more time together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So this last weekend, we ran away. Or more precisely, we spent three days forgetting about homework and deadlines and schedules and instead focused on creating some memories at Great Wolf Lodge.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We've been to the &lt;a href="http://www.greatwolf.com/mason/waterpark"&gt;Great Wolf Lodge&lt;/a&gt; in Cincinnati a few times and always look forward to going back. The indoor waterpark and resort is perfect for when you don't have the time/money for a full vacation, but still want a mini-vacation atmosphere. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This year's trip was yet again more awesome than the last. Shortly after we arrived, there was a knock at our door and we were presented with bottles of water and a complimentary bag of their caramel-chocolate popcorn as a thanks for being a repeat visitor. The popcorn was devoured before the weekend was over, but in that moment the kids were more focused on getting out of the room to play MagiQuest. (It's kind of like a Harry Potter-type game for kids, with magic wands that do all kinds of neat things through the entire lodge.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X-o1s915eOw/Tstzu6E1CDI/AAAAAAAACtI/omM8QBqhpu0/s1600/photo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X-o1s915eOw/Tstzu6E1CDI/AAAAAAAACtI/omM8QBqhpu0/s320/photo2.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hooray, treasure!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Saturday morning was our first visit to the waterpark, and I was surprised how much Cordy and Mira had matured since we were last there. Both were fairly scared of the water last year, requiring a lot of coaxing and gradual introduction to the wave pool and the itty-bitty water slides. (And a lot of anxiety involving any deep water.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This year, life jackets securely on, Cordy went straight to the wave pool and ran right in, with Mira only a few steps behind her. They both tackled the intermediate water slides. (Cordy was too big for the little slides, and still unwilling to try the big ones.) They even practiced trying to swim, with Aaron and I just in reach. I was so impressed that Cordy could handle being in the water so well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, Cordy was a little &lt;i&gt;too&lt;/i&gt; self-confident about her abilities. At one point, she disappeared from my view - it was really just a few seconds - and when I spotted her again she was about 20 feet from me in the deeper section of the wave pool, unable to touch the ground, flailing and calling for help. As I tried to get to her quickly, the lifeguard dove in and a teen boy who was less than an arm's reach from her, well, &lt;i&gt;reached out his arm&lt;/i&gt; and grabbed her with little effort. She wasn't in any danger thanks to her life jacket, but it was good to know how quickly the staff reacts. (And that teen was the hero among his friends for "saving" her.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Note to self: sign Cordy up for swimming lessons. And keep that life jacket on her for now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But other than that one moment, the waterpark was perfect and we couldn't have had more fun. (I have no photos of the waterpark - I know myself well enough to not take electronics around water.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aside from swimming, we played more MagiQuest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VHFv2huvK3w/Tst0VmEx0bI/AAAAAAAACtQ/7G45AwQmvvw/s1600/photo4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VHFv2huvK3w/Tst0VmEx0bI/AAAAAAAACtQ/7G45AwQmvvw/s320/photo4.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I command you to speak, tin man!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And had plenty of snacks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c7RbWjLddK4/Tst0kxsm7hI/AAAAAAAACtY/-9I0Xk_6DGk/s1600/photo3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c7RbWjLddK4/Tst0kxsm7hI/AAAAAAAACtY/-9I0Xk_6DGk/s320/photo3.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The kids got wolf ears with their lunches.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-acLyWyEVkbM/Tst0tz900NI/AAAAAAAACtg/h9Q37GaaUbU/s1600/92e23f9412e411e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-acLyWyEVkbM/Tst0tz900NI/AAAAAAAACtg/h9Q37GaaUbU/s320/92e23f9412e411e1abb01231381b65e3_7.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;She was trying to look awake.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And enjoyed downtime in their own little "kid cabin" inside our room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ELr_Y4Xd_LQ/Tst042RsniI/AAAAAAAACto/n-urTgHXE3A/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ELr_Y4Xd_LQ/Tst042RsniI/AAAAAAAACto/n-urTgHXE3A/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We were sad to leave Great Wolf Lodge on Sunday. Mira was weepy the rest of the day because she didn't want to be back at home. Or maybe she was tired, since she barely slept the entire weekend. All I&amp;nbsp;know is she slept eleven hours straight on Sunday night, and then still fell asleep in the car on the way to preschool Monday morning. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While it wasn't a full-out vacation, it still wasn't cheap for our budget, so we probably won't be doing this again until next year. However, I think the memories we have from the weekend make it all worth the money. Well, all of the money except for the three pay-per-view PBS Kids episodes Cordy charged to the room by accident. Apparently the pay-per-view menu is just as easy to navigate on the remote control as our Tivo menu at home, only these episodes cost $3.99 a piece. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And now back to the daily grind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Note: This is not a review post. We love &lt;a href="http://www.greatwolf.com/mason/waterpark"&gt;Great Wolf Lodge&lt;/a&gt; and paid for the entire trip on our own. (You're welcome to view my credit card bill if you'll agree to help pay it.)&amp;nbsp;Although if Great Wolf ever wants to invite us back to the lodge on their tab, we will have our swimsuits ready to go on short notice. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/4HOj5YZXJBc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/8358576280572896292/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=8358576280572896292" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8358576280572896292?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8358576280572896292?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/4HOj5YZXJBc/our-weekend-great-wolf-lodge-getaway.html" title="Our Weekend Great Wolf Lodge Getaway" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X-o1s915eOw/Tstzu6E1CDI/AAAAAAAACtI/omM8QBqhpu0/s72-c/photo2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/our-weekend-great-wolf-lodge-getaway.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIMRXs_cSp7ImA9WhRSGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-157391646094509940</id><published>2011-11-21T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T10:16:24.549-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T10:16:24.549-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reviews" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="TMI" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contests" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="BlogHer" /><title>Head &amp; Shoulders Eucalyptus Itchy Scalp Care To The Rescue! (Review &amp; Giveaway)</title><content type="html">&lt;script language="JavaScript1.1" src="http://oascentral.blogher.org/RealMedia/ads/adstream_jx.ads/blogher.org/PG_LWL_HeadShoulders_Sept11_Review_013/@x13" type="text/javascript"&gt;
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No one likes to admit they have dandruff. Avoiding dark colored shirts so no one sees the flakes settling on your shoulders, instinctively leaning away when that special someone wants to run their hands through your hair, trying to look as if you're just lost in thought as you sneak in a quick scratch of your scalp...some of us will try anything to hide the secret in our hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've suffered from occasional dandruff and an itchy scalp, a problem I've had since I was a kid. I have very sensitive skin, and nearly any hair product I try results in a reaction, leading to more dandruff and itching. I was mortified with this as a teen, and I did anything in my power to keep others from finding out. I was the queen of white t-shirts and sweaters. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Over time, I found I could minimize the problem by regularly switching up my shampoos and conditioners. If I use one product for more than a few shampoos, the dandruff flares up quickly, so I started a routine of rotating 3-4 shampoos each week, with at least one of those being designed to remove build-up or work directly on dandruff. But even the dandruff shampoos didn't help much, and I didn't like the strong smell from them or how they made my hair feel afterward.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_-c61NA0JXg/Tspqe8pFX9I/AAAAAAAACtA/8NexrEvxtKU/s1600/UE-1210-TG03_H-SItchyScalp_LG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_-c61NA0JXg/Tspqe8pFX9I/AAAAAAAACtA/8NexrEvxtKU/s200/UE-1210-TG03_H-SItchyScalp_LG.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was recently asked to try the new &lt;a href="http://goo.gl/Xek1n" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Head &amp;amp; Shoulders Eucalyptus Itchy Scalp Care&lt;/a&gt; products to see if they would make a difference on my sensitive head. I've heard good things about eucalyptus being used in beauty products to calm sensitive skin, so I thought it was worth a try. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How does it work? According to Head &amp;amp; Shoulders, dandruff is caused by a combination of factors, namely the presence of scalp oils, the fungus &lt;i&gt;Malassezia globosa&lt;/i&gt; (lovely, right?), and what scientists call a susceptibility to skin irritation (or a reaction to the presence of the fungus). The Eucalyptus Itchy Scalp Care products have combined the effectiveness of their HydraZinc formula with fresh, naturally inspired fragrances, including almond oil, eucalyptus and aloe vera to alleviate dryness, itchiness and sensitivity, leaving your hair beautifully flake free.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For my test, I made the choice to use only the new products for an entire week. No switching between shampoos - I wanted to get the best idea of how well it works on my long, fine hair and itchy scalp. Would it weigh down my hair and leave it limp? Would it stop the itch?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I first poured the shampoo into my hand, I recognized the thick white consistency of a Head &amp;amp; Shoulders product. I wondered how well it would lather, but surprisingly it produced plenty of lather with little effort. The smell was pleasant and the eucalyptus produced a slightly cool, tingling feeling across my scalp. (Not bad at all-actually kinda nice!) It rinsed out easily. The conditioner was slightly thicker, although the smell wasn't as nice as the shampoo. I followed the directions on the bottle and then rinsed my hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The result? After the first wash, I styled my hair as normal. I was wowed at how soft and silky my hair felt! The weather is just starting to get cold here in Ohio, which usually means static-filled hair for me, but my hair was incredibly soft with no hint of static. At the same time, it felt light and had plenty of volume - no heavy coating at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As for relieving the itch? Yep, it did the job. No itch at all that day, or the next. Along with no itch, I also didn't notice any flakes on my shoulders-probably helped by the fact that I wasn't scratching my head all day long! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next shampooing had the same result, as did the one after that. I'm still impressed at how soft my hair is, and my scalp feels revived and fresh. I still have the occasional itch, but it's much, much better than I'd normally be after a week of the same shampoo. And the dandruff is about 90% less as well. It hasn't cured everything, but it's certainly made my hair and scalp a lot easier to deal with!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm hoping &lt;a href="http://goo.gl/Xek1n" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Head &amp;amp; Shoulders Eucalyptus Itchy Scalp Care&lt;/a&gt; will be The One for me, and I can ditch my carousel of revolving shampoos and conditioners for a single set of products. So far I'm thrilled with the results and feel confident about the upcoming holiday season - maybe I'll even wear my cute black dress without fear of flakes falling on it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Giveaway! &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How do you change your beauty routine in the colder winter season from the warmer seasons? Leave me a comment to be entered for a chance to win a $50 Visa gift card from BlogHer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Rules:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No duplicate comments.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
a) Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post&lt;br /&gt;
b) Tweet about this promotion and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post&lt;br /&gt;
c) Blog about this promotion and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post&lt;br /&gt;
d) For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Official Rules are available &lt;a href="http://www.blogher.com/head-shoulders-sweepstakes-official-rules" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;This sweepstakes runs from 11/21/11 - 12/22/11.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Be sure to visit the &lt;a href="http://www.blogher.com/life-well-lived-head-shoulders-reviews" target="_blank"&gt;Promotions &amp;amp; Prizes page on BlogHer.com&lt;/a&gt; where you can read other bloggers' reviews and find additional chances to win!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Want more great tips for &lt;a href="http://goo.gl/jIZ2Z"&gt;winter hair care&lt;/a&gt;? Check out the newest “Looking Your Best” post in the Life Well Lived section of BlogHer.com.&lt;/li&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/3yB9wKwOLZg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/157391646094509940/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=157391646094509940" title="256 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/157391646094509940?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/157391646094509940?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/3yB9wKwOLZg/head-shoulders-eucalyptus-itchy-scalp.html" title="Head &amp;amp; Shoulders Eucalyptus Itchy Scalp Care To The Rescue! (Review &amp; Giveaway)" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_-c61NA0JXg/Tspqe8pFX9I/AAAAAAAACtA/8NexrEvxtKU/s72-c/UE-1210-TG03_H-SItchyScalp_LG.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>256</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/head-shoulders-eucalyptus-itchy-scalp.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EDQHsyfCp7ImA9WhRSFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-8275559912160235490</id><published>2011-11-16T08:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T08:21:11.594-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-16T08:21:11.594-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="healthy living" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="school" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="politics" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="big issues" /><title>Pizza As A Vegetable For School Lunches</title><content type="html">On Monday, Mira came home from school and immediately pulled a bag of potato chips from her backpack. When I asked her where the chips had come from, she told me her teachers gave them to her at lunch because they had extras in her class. Her preschool class has lunch brought up to their room from the school cafeteria, so they often have leftovers that Mira happily takes advantage of, even though she has a packed lunch each day. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Potato chips are one of the few things she brings home as leftovers, but I hear about the other things she occasionally eats when her class has extra food. French fries, pizzas, flavored applesauce, nachos - these are all regular school lunches served to little kids?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0UBgMXVmN4/TsOc_7qYFGI/AAAAAAAACsg/ZwN4pdKrA2s/s1600/school-lunch-again.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hda="true" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0UBgMXVmN4/TsOc_7qYFGI/AAAAAAAACsg/ZwN4pdKrA2s/s200/school-lunch-again.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The answer is yes, they are, and if Congress gets its way, they will &lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/congress-pushes-back-healthier-school-lunches-045719660.html"&gt;remain the staples of the American school kid's diet&lt;/a&gt; for some time to come. Despite the USDA pushing for healthier school lunches, Congress has released a spending bill that rolls back the new standards to cater to special interest lobbyists in the food industry who insist that kids don't need less salt and processed foods in their diets, and that two tablespoons of tomato paste on a pizza would be perfectly acceptable as a serving of vegetables. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(We'll forget for a moment that tomatoes are actually a fruit.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's horrifying to read that article and realize what our elected officials consider acceptable for a school lunch. Whole grains are considered unnecessary. Processed foods and cheap, artificial food-like products reign supreme in the lunchrooms. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Beyond the lobbying, some claim that the government shouldn't tell children what to eat, which is ridiculous when food standards have been around for decades.&amp;nbsp;But by &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; providing proper guidelines on what constitutes a nutritious school lunch,&amp;nbsp;Congress is&amp;nbsp;still telling children what to eat, and the message&amp;nbsp;they are sending is that &lt;i&gt;your kids aren't worth better food&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For many underprivileged&amp;nbsp;children, a public school lunch is their best chance at one complete, nutritious meal all day long. One chance each day to have proper nutrition. Some possibly get a school breakfast as well. And our elected officials offer them nothing but processed junk high in fat, sodium and sugar. Pizza as a serving of vegetables. (Don't forget the *breakfast* pizza served each morning, too!) We should be ashamed that this is the best we can offer to our most vulnerable in the United States.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful that Aaron and I have the time and resources to prepare lunches for Cordy and Mira each day. Our daughters aren't limited by the choices available to them in the cafeteria, and have parents who are actively involved in finding better foods for them. As a result they benefit from better nutrition, especially Cordy, who can't tolerate artificial food additives. I can't imagine how much worse her behavior would be if she had to eat school food each day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Before anyone tries to knock me down from my pedestal, I should take a moment to pause here and point out that my family is &lt;i&gt;far&lt;/i&gt; from being a model for perfect nutrition. After all, we ordered pizza last night for dinner and we love McDonald's now and then, too. And we &lt;i&gt;always&lt;/i&gt; need more vegetables.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, we try to keep a balance of healthy foods in their diets. Both girls have packed lunches that consist of whole grains, real fruit and cheese, peanut butter (that is only made from peanuts &amp;amp; nothing more), and water, 100% juice or plain milk to drink.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But they're the lucky ones - what about the kids who are at the mercy of the school cafeteria line each day? The ones who regularly depend on those potato chips for their nutrition?&amp;nbsp;Who's there to advocate for whole grains and fresh produce for them? Who's speaking up to insist that we raise the bar on the necessary requirements for a nutritious lunch? It's not the American Frozen Food Institute, that's for certain. And it's not their friends in Congress, either. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I genuinely had high hopes that the USDA would be able to create some real change in the way we feed our school-aged children in this country, even if that change was small. Any change&amp;nbsp;for the better is at least a start.&amp;nbsp;Now I'm left more disappointed than ever at the corruption in our&amp;nbsp;political system and the politicians who claim they care about our children, but really only care about their corporate donors and dollars.Why strive for quality when there's big bucks to be made serving up the cheapest food materials possible?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's no wonder so many conservative politicians are against national health care - they don't want to pay for the obesity, diabetes and high blood pressure they are actively helping to create by profiting at the expense of our children's future. If I was actively working to create a generation of fat, disease-stricken citizens like they are I'd try to avoid the issue, too. Hell, they're probably investing all of their money in the pharmaceutical industry right now, knowing what's ahead for these kids and anxiously awaiting the profits they'll make from all the medications these kids will need. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's no secret why this country is facing a health crisis. Part of the answer can be found right in our schools, where&amp;nbsp;we're creating our national health crisis one substandard school lunch at a time.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our kids are worth more than this. They deserve better than two tablespoons of tomato paste and salty, high-fat, processed lunches each day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-8275559912160235490?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/gTeIwWp6ryM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/8275559912160235490/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=8275559912160235490" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8275559912160235490?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8275559912160235490?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/gTeIwWp6ryM/pizza-as-vegetable-for-school-lunches.html" title="Pizza As A Vegetable For School Lunches" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0UBgMXVmN4/TsOc_7qYFGI/AAAAAAAACsg/ZwN4pdKrA2s/s72-c/school-lunch-again.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/pizza-as-vegetable-for-school-lunches.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QAR3Y9eyp7ImA9WhRSEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-2137334459129518635</id><published>2011-11-11T08:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T08:49:06.863-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-11T08:49:06.863-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pop culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mira" /><title>There Are Some Toys I Will Never Buy</title><content type="html">Consider this a follow-up to my &lt;a href="http://www.amommystory.com/2011/10/after-these-messages.html"&gt;previous post about advertising&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have a reward system in our house for good behavior, and the girls can save up their points to trade in for extra TV time, dessert, dinner out, or a toy. Everything has different values and they're encouraged to save for items they really want.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've been pretty lenient with the requests Cordy and Mira have had for items they've seen on TV. Cordy really wanted a Happy Napper after seeing the commercials for it, so she saved up her points for two weeks (with a lot of helping out with chores and good behavior to earn as many as possible) and traded them all in for a ladybug Happy Napper. I think she's happy with her choice, although I was expecting some letdown afterward.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They're allowed to make bad choices with their points. Better to learn now what is worth saving up for and what is a disappointment before they start using real money without any guidance from us. And there will be a time when they'll get excited about a commercial and buy the toy, only to find it not nearly as exciting as the commercial made it out to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, there are limits. We've seen this commercial on the Hub network for the past week:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PTzpQ6yHLH4" width="420"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They will &lt;i&gt;never &lt;/i&gt;have enough points to get this. And they've been informed that Santa's elves are unable to make this particular game.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't care how much Cordy or Mira beg, I draw the line at a &lt;a href="http://www.doggiedoogame.com/"&gt;pooping dog game&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'll buy them a real puppy first.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Have you ever told your child that it was impossible to buy something for them just because you did not want it in your house?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-2137334459129518635?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/-80SAJzfNQ4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/2137334459129518635/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=2137334459129518635" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/2137334459129518635?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/2137334459129518635?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/-80SAJzfNQ4/there-are-some-toys-i-will-never-buy.html" title="There Are Some Toys I Will Never Buy" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/PTzpQ6yHLH4/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/there-are-some-toys-i-will-never-buy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4GQXk7fyp7ImA9WhRTFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-455166484473061947</id><published>2011-11-07T08:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T08:02:00.707-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-07T08:02:00.707-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="other people's kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASD" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="school" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="big issues" /><title>Is My Daughter Being Bullied In First Grade?</title><content type="html">Some days, being a parent is more like being a detective. Trying to find the truth between wildly different accounts of a situation can take a lot of time and effort, and in the end you're still not sure if you know what really happened. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last week was one of those situations.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It started on Thursday around 1pm when I was jolted awake by my cell phone. Since I work nights, I ask that no one call my cell during the day unless one of my children is hurt or I just won a million dollars. I answered the call and Cordy's school nurse was on the other end. She said that Cordy had been knocked down by accident during recess and had a scratch on her arm, but it wasn't bad. Cordy had been pretty upset about it, though, so they let her spend some time in the nurse's office before sending her back to class. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn't understand why a small scratch on her arm warranted a call home, but whatever. I went back to sleep quickly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When Cordy came home that day, she wanted some computer time right when she walked in the door. As I sat with her at the computer, I asked to see the scratch on her arm - there was barely a mark there. But&amp;nbsp;I noticed she was talking oddly, without moving her upper lip. A closer look revealed that her upper lip was split in the middle and swollen. The school nurse didn't mention this?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I asked her what happened to her lip, and she didn't want to tell me at first. But then the story came out: two boys came up to her in the field at recess and knocked her down. One sat on her while the other threw a kickball in her face. She said they both laughed at her and called her "weird" and that they've thrown things at her before. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I made her repeat the story to me several times that night. Unlike when she makes up stories, the details didn't change and there were more details than she usually tells. She gave us their names. She told us she was afraid of them. And she insisted they called her weird and laughed at her. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You can imagine how furious I was. Just as I sat down to write an email to her teachers, an email arrived from her special needs teacher. In giving us the details of Cordy's day, she mentioned the incident, although the details were different. She said Cordy claimed she was hit and was very upset, but&amp;nbsp;the recess teachers saw it and it appeared to be an accident. There was no mention of the split lip, only the scratch on her arm. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I replied to her email and gave her Cordy's version of the story. I said I couldn't understand how accidentally knocking someone down could result in a split lip, or why Cordy would claim they laughed at her at called her weird. I mentioned that this sounded to me like bullying and I wanted it looked into further.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The response I received the next day provided an even more detailed view of the incident. Her teacher said that a group of kids - including Cordy - had been involved in a lot of play fighting during the week and it had become more rough each day. The teachers had told them to tone it down. Other kids had complained that Cordy was hitting them with her coat. Cordy's teacher said she spoke with the boys and believes the play fighting may have accidentally become too real. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then she said that she also spoke to Cordy and advised her to play around the playground equipment and not with the kids out in the field.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So now I'm left to piece all of it together. I believe the adults&amp;nbsp;- Cordy was probably play fighting. I asked her about hitting other kids with her coat, and she said she did it only because they were doing it to her first. I'm not so blinded by love for my kid that I'm unwilling to admit she'd ever do anything wrong. We had a discussion about why it's not OK to hurt someone just because they hurt you first, and I expect her to apologize to the kids she swung her coat at. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I also believe what happened to Cordy was real.&amp;nbsp;I don't think she was knocked down on accident, and whether it was play fighting or not, she still ended up with a split lip and deserves at least an apology from those boys. I also believe that they called her weird and laughed at her. There's no reason for her to make up something like that. Whether they were saying it "in pretend" or not, it's still hurtful and should never be said to someone. Getting away with it now could lead to them thinking it's OK in the future. I don't want to aide a child on his first step towards becoming a bully.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So where's the truth? It's somewhere in between, but the more information I'm given, the more confused I become. I like Cordy's teachers and her school, and want to believe them, but I also want to believe my daughter. Her part in the rough play at recess has been dealt with by us. But if she feels like she's being bullied, it needs to be addressed.&amp;nbsp;(And why didn't&amp;nbsp;anyone notice her swollen, cracked-open upper lip?)&amp;nbsp;I hope there are programs in place to address bullying and the importance of accepting differences, and if not there need to be, even at the first grade level. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was bullied as a kid for being different. I know how painful it is to feel like you can't be yourself without someone ridiculing you, but even if you try to be someone else you still can't ever fit in. Any self-esteem I had when I started elementary school was slowly shredded to pieces by junior high. Even things I should have been proud of - like being academically gifted - were marks of shame to hide once the bullies had their way with me. I&amp;nbsp;never want Cordy to suffer what I went through. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy is gradually coming to the understanding that she's different. We're gently introducing the topic of autism to her, framing it in a way to highlight the positive differences as well as the areas she struggles with&amp;nbsp;that other kids may find easy. She still isn't self-aware enough yet to completely get it, but hopefully the self-esteem building is getting through to her if nothing else is. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are also teaching her that there are lots of other ways to be different, too. Some kids are great at sports, others can't use their legs and require a wheelchair, and some kids just look very different from their classmates. All of these things make them different, but just as valuable and loved as any other kid. But hate, prejudice, and discrimination are not differences to value, and should never be tolerated.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For now I plan to&amp;nbsp;keep an&amp;nbsp;open communication with Cordy about this topic, making sure&amp;nbsp;that no one else is calling her names and that she feels safe in her class. I'm sure we'll discuss it more at the upcoming parent-teacher conferences as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sigh...and people said the baby years were hard. Ha ha ha.&amp;nbsp;Playing the role of Detective Mom&amp;nbsp;has me in far more unpleasant situations than ever faced by even the worst blow-out diaper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-455166484473061947?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/MdnrPB4Q4_A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/455166484473061947/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=455166484473061947" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/455166484473061947?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/455166484473061947?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/MdnrPB4Q4_A/is-my-daughter-being-bullied-in-first.html" title="Is My Daughter Being Bullied In First Grade?" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/is-my-daughter-being-bullied-in-first.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUICQnY-fCp7ImA9WhRTEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-4646288821693065115</id><published>2011-11-02T08:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T08:39:23.854-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-02T08:39:23.854-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shameless promotion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mira" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>This Is Not A Blog Post</title><content type="html">Oh sure, you might have thought you were getting a blog post from me today, but you're not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instead you get this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-btYcu1kEL0Q/TrE41UuuncI/AAAAAAAACrg/hFUxIOxt1RI/s1600/phph799QxAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-btYcu1kEL0Q/TrE41UuuncI/AAAAAAAACrg/hFUxIOxt1RI/s400/phph799QxAM.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pirate princess &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sCL0Z497QHg/TrE419e09FI/AAAAAAAACro/htK1jKKTjr0/s1600/phpJptBMxAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sCL0Z497QHg/TrE419e09FI/AAAAAAAACro/htK1jKKTjr0/s400/phpJptBMxAM.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pink petal princess &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And this:&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u97D_nkaRd8/TrE42KtPIpI/AAAAAAAACrw/YzjLp0J_2kQ/s1600/phpLSTjNCAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u97D_nkaRd8/TrE42KtPIpI/AAAAAAAACrw/YzjLp0J_2kQ/s400/phpLSTjNCAM.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ready for trick or treat on Halloween&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Revel in the cuteness and expect a real post in another day or so.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or you can go visit my other blogs where I'm giving away &lt;a href="http://amommystoryreviews.blogspot.com/2011/11/naturalizer-review-shoe-giveaway.html"&gt;Naturalizer shoes&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.losingmyhind.com/2011/10/slim-fast-two-weeks-later-giveaway.html"&gt;Sephora gift cards&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-4646288821693065115?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/Ur2LM8GOdUM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/4646288821693065115/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=4646288821693065115" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/4646288821693065115?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/4646288821693065115?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/Ur2LM8GOdUM/this-is-not-blog-post.html" title="This Is Not A Blog Post" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-btYcu1kEL0Q/TrE41UuuncI/AAAAAAAACrg/hFUxIOxt1RI/s72-c/phph799QxAM.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/11/this-is-not-blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MCQX85eCp7ImA9WhdaGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-4129674680272633495</id><published>2011-10-28T07:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T07:31:00.120-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-28T07:31:00.120-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="being a mom" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="domestic zero" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>The Accidental Crafty Mom</title><content type="html">I'm generally in awe of all of you crafty moms out there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know who you are. The ones who prefer handmade to store bought, who can do anything with some craft sticks, googly eyes, pipe cleaners and a touch of glue. You have 1,000 different creative uses for old coffee cans and glass baby food jars and your supply closet rivals Martha Stewart. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I may be jealous, but I don't hate you in any way. No, the truth is I wish I could be you. But I lack that ability to think up clever, creative crafts. More importantly, I lack the time and patience to do what you do. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I repin your fantastic ideas and findings on Pinterest, dreaming of sitting at the table with my daughters as we paint chalkboard paint on lids of mason jars or sneaking into their rooms while they sleep to spread glitter and decorations as I pretend a fairy paid them a visit, fully knowing I won't act on a single idea I've repinned.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then occasionally I do something crafty without even meaning to. Case in point:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just recently bought&amp;nbsp;a pair of clogs for myself and for Cordy for the winter months. They're suede and so I wanted to waterproof them before wearing them in this painfully wet weather we've had recently. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few days ago, when it was dry, I set the shoes on our sidewalk and sprayed them with a waterproofing spray. After they were dry I brought them back in. No big deal, right? Just something I had to do to protect the shoes before I wore them. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next (rainy) day, Cordy and Mira peered out the front door and shrieked, "We have ghosts, mommy!" Puzzled, I looked outside.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d_Czx3OykNQ/TqqKF6slCdI/AAAAAAAACqA/txX0iQZNWdM/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d_Czx3OykNQ/TqqKF6slCdI/AAAAAAAACqA/txX0iQZNWdM/s400/photo.JPG" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Had I been smarter with this, I would have staggered the shoes to look like they were walking towards the house. But I never&amp;nbsp;thought I was actually creating something cool for the kids - I was just waterproofing my shoes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, to recap for any of you creative types that want one more spooky decorating tip for Halloween:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Waterproofing spray on and around shoes = ghost tracks on the sidewalk. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There you go, folks, my accidental craft tip of the day. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly I feel so accomplished.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-4129674680272633495?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/p8GJcBVc1JM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/4129674680272633495/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=4129674680272633495" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/4129674680272633495?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/4129674680272633495?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/p8GJcBVc1JM/accidental-crafty-mom.html" title="The Accidental Crafty Mom" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d_Czx3OykNQ/TqqKF6slCdI/AAAAAAAACqA/txX0iQZNWdM/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/10/accidental-crafty-mom.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UNSXYzfip7ImA9WhRSEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-2927054918431437781</id><published>2011-10-27T07:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T04:01:38.886-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-14T04:01:38.886-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ain't too proud to beg" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contests" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><title>Cordy's Thank You Note</title><content type="html">It's been a busy week at work. We've been temporarily understaffed, and as a result I feel like my days have been spent either sleeping or working. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;But!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Remember when I begged you all for votes for the Columbus Parent Magazine cover contest? It all paid off! Thanks to your votes, Cordy made it into the top five finalists out of nearly 400 entries!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As promised, here's your thank you note:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HJF9SfH5YE8/TqjwE35pXnI/AAAAAAAACpY/jxJjo4zBCrs/s1600/IMG_7584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HJF9SfH5YE8/TqjwE35pXnI/AAAAAAAACpY/jxJjo4zBCrs/s320/IMG_7584.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Now we have to wait to see if Cordy is selected as the winner. A panel made up of magazine editors and professional photographers will choose the winner by this Friday. (Tomorrow!) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have no idea what goes into making a decision like that - how do you look at five kids and decide which one will be the cuter kid on the cover just by seeing one photo and no other information?&amp;nbsp;I can't imagine it would be easy - even Miss America has a question and answer portion to the competition. There's no chance to find out what each child is like, what story they all have to go with those smiling faces...just a photo.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cross your fingers and hope they can see&amp;nbsp;Cordy's story in&amp;nbsp;her blue eyes. And if she wins...well, she'll have to work on an even bigger thank you note. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BRrUQP82OVM/TqjwTtM8bRI/AAAAAAAACpg/KNBZqd-T92w/s1600/IMG_7586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BRrUQP82OVM/TqjwTtM8bRI/AAAAAAAACpg/KNBZqd-T92w/s320/IMG_7586.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cordy plans to use this photo for all holiday and birthday gifts going forward as well. She's a time saver like me. Or lazy. Like me.&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;----&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Edited to add: Cordy didn't win the big prize of being on the magazine cover, but her photo will be featured in the December ﻿2011 issue.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-2927054918431437781?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/doV6jtws86M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/2927054918431437781/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=2927054918431437781" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/2927054918431437781?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/2927054918431437781?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/doV6jtws86M/cordys-thank-you-note.html" title="Cordy's Thank You Note" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HJF9SfH5YE8/TqjwE35pXnI/AAAAAAAACpY/jxJjo4zBCrs/s72-c/IMG_7584.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/10/cordys-thank-you-note.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cEQX07eyp7ImA9WhdaEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-7687445195165659432</id><published>2011-10-21T08:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T08:10:00.303-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-21T08:10:00.303-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASD" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="school" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><title>The Annual IEP Review</title><content type="html">Last week was the annual review of Cordy's &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Individualized_Education_Program"&gt;IEP&lt;/a&gt;, an event I both look forward to and have extreme anxiety about each year. Since Cordy spends nearly her entire day in a mainstream classroom, I looked forward to speaking with her teachers about how she was doing and find solutions to deal with any issues they were having. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The meeting involved the usual suspects gathered around the table: her special needs teacher, her mainstream teacher, the physical therapist, the principal, and Aaron and I. We began with a review of last year's IEP and the progress she's made.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Good stuff:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Based on testing and observation, Cordy no longer qualifies for physical therapy. She was only deficient in one area - running speed and agility - and it was made clear that it wasn't her running speed keeping her score down. (The kid is FAST.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy also no longer needs occupational therapy. Her handwriting is still sloppy, but is considered no worse than the average first grader. Or her mother. Maybe she'll be a doctor?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Academically, she's at or above her grade level in all areas. She's already been moved to second grade reading after demonstrating (over and over) her proficiency in reading to her mainstream teacher. It's possible she'll be moved to second grade math as well. They're impressed that not only is she reading at a second grade level, her reading comprehension is strong, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Not so good:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The real issue with writing is Cordy's resistance to doing it at all. She has a hard time translating her thoughts onto paper and often gives up before even trying. We're going to try teaching her typing as well as handwriting to see if that helps overcome some of her anxiety. When you're a perfectionist like Cordy, being able to backspace and delete mistakes might make all the difference to her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At this point, her primary support needs are with social/emotional issues. She still reacts strongly when transitioning from one activity to another - especially if her current activity involves the computer. She'll whine and throw a fit and&amp;nbsp;the other kids look at her funny when she overreacts like this. Same goes for a change in schedule - indoor recess due to rain can sour the whole day for her. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She also doesn't handle correction well. When she's told she did something wrong, she usually has a verbal outburst (often along the lines of "You should just kill me then!" or "I'm just going to throw this away!"), occasionally hides under a desk and refuses to come out, or sometimes runs out of the classroom. Thankfully, when she does run out of the class, she is running to her special needs teacher's class - the last thing I want to deal with is hearing she ran away from school. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The social issues do bother me. I know she gets overwhelmed and frustrated easily and she takes any slight correction as as condemnation of her entire existence. Her classmates probably think she's a weirdo as a result. But I still think it's beneficial for her to be in the mainstream classroom. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I agree with the concept of accepting kids with autism for who they are, but no matter how perfect I wish the world to be, I know Cordy will likely face years of bullying and teasing.&amp;nbsp;It will be&amp;nbsp;important for her to compromise and learn what's expected in a classroom, scripting her behavior if necessary to "fit in" as much as possible so that she's less of a disruption, and less of a target. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the moment she has an aide in the classroom with her most of the day, helping to provide redirection when these moments of frustration pop up. And the teacher reassured us that it isn't all that frequent - other kids are far greater behavior problems than Cordy is. They also report that, even though she doesn't have any school friends she tells us about, she does play with other kids at recess. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The team had a lot of praise for Cordy, including how sweet she is most of the time, and in turn we asked them to not be soft on her because of that charm. Sounds mean, I know, but if you try to baby-step her through anything she pushes back and&amp;nbsp;resists.&amp;nbsp;She knows that if you're trying to gradually introduce something, it must be hard and so she doesn't want to try it.&amp;nbsp;If you shove her into the deep end, though, she&amp;nbsp;flails for a moment, but then usually rises to the challenge&amp;nbsp;as long as you stay consistent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When asked what&amp;nbsp;our long term goals for Cordy were, I explained that we wanted her to be seen as a child and student first, and autistic last. It's a part of who she is, but I don't want it to dominate how her teachers treat her. I want to eventually wean her off of any assistance, although only when it's clear that she won't suffer as a result. I want her to be successful in school, whether she's gifted or not, and always be challenged to go further. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was interesting to hear Cordy's special needs teacher talk about Cordy's talents. She told us how much Cordy reminds her of&amp;nbsp;another kid - a boy labeled as "twice exceptional" for being autistic and academically gifted - and she added that he was now in high school and on track to graduate. She said she could see Cordy going the same route - maybe even going to college?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I understood her meaning behind the story, and know she was trying to be encouraging, but at the same time I was frustrated. &lt;em&gt;Probably&lt;/em&gt; graduate? &lt;em&gt;Maybe&lt;/em&gt; go to college? Oh, no, no, this kid &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; graduate and &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; go to college! I've set&amp;nbsp;high goals for her because she's already shown every determination to do better than what's expected.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At three years old we were&amp;nbsp;told she may never be mainstreamed. She would always have behavior issues and may need medication to control her. One expert told&amp;nbsp;us to prepare for the possibility that she may never be capable of living&amp;nbsp;alone or caring for herself. The same people who saw her then are stunned to see the young girl she is now, charming, polite and full of energy to discover the world around her. They never expected her to become the bright&amp;nbsp;student she is today. But I always knew she could do it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy's IEP is set for another year now. There's still plenty to work on, but yet again she's managed to cross several items off of her IEP to-master list. And the new skills for this year are challenging, but as long as her team is supporting her and cheering her on, she'll succeed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like a helicopter parent sometimes, and I'm sure her teachers are regretting that they gave me their email addresses, but Aaron and I are her primary advocates. My job is to make sure she's getting the education she needs, and I take that job pretty seriously. I see the potential in her, and I have to make sure others see it, too. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With the right guidance, there's nothing she can't excel in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Except maybe penmanship.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(But hey, we all have our limitations. Just be glad I'm typing this and not writing it by hand.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-7687445195165659432?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/oC3ED_kYlm4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/7687445195165659432/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=7687445195165659432" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/7687445195165659432?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/7687445195165659432?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/oC3ED_kYlm4/annual-iep-review.html" title="The Annual IEP Review" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/10/annual-iep-review.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEAQXw-eCp7ImA9WhdbFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-8478572665226769616</id><published>2011-10-14T06:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T06:04:00.250-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-14T06:04:00.250-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="money" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pop culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="TV" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mira" /><title>After These Messages</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xol-i5kfBg/TpfVQJJ0rcI/AAAAAAAACpM/Sv-PM9khMhA/s1600/ABC-B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xol-i5kfBg/TpfVQJJ0rcI/AAAAAAAACpM/Sv-PM9khMhA/s200/ABC-B.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;When it comes to family TV time, we usually limit our selections to Nick Jr (Noggin), Disney Junior, Netflix or DVDs. My thinking was that if I'm going to let my kids watch TV, I'd prefer to limit them to TV free of commercials while they were very young. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I never expected them to shun all marketing and I knew that the licensed characters they saw on TV shows would still lead them to want toys with those characters on it. But if it limited their consumerism even a little, I figured it was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But then we discovered My Little Pony on the Hub network. And now I'm doomed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hub has at least two commercial breaks during every show. We try to Tivo episodes and then watch them with the girls, fast forwarding through commercial breaks. Then there are those times when I let the girls watch TV so I can get something else done, and I'm not always there to hit that fast forward button. Meaning they get to see every "Act now for this incredible offer!" promotion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, what do my two impressionable young daughters think of commercials? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mira now chants, "Take me to Party City!" thanks to their Halloween commercial. Children in the commercial repeat that same statement over and over, and she's now convinced that she needs to go there for her Halloween costume. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy told me she'd make fewer messes with her snacks if I'd buy her a gyro bowl. Never mind the fact that she never makes a mess when eating a snack. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mira is begging me for an insulated lunch bag that will keep her lunch cold for up to 8 hours. When I remind her that none of her lunch needs to be kept cold, she gets upset and points out that, "Dat mom bwogger on TV wecommended it!" I guess in her mind, all mom bloggers must stick together and use the same products.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mira also insists that the chocolate milk shown in one commercial would be "healthy" for her. I tried to explain that just because they say it's "healthier" because it's a good source of vitamin D and calcium and is free of high fructose corn syrup doesn't change the fact that it's still filled with sugar. And that all milk has calcium and vitamin D. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mira even asked if we could please buy one of those aluminum storage building. You know, because we need a carport or hobby building next to our garage or something. And they're sooooo shiny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I won't even begin to discuss all of the pillow pets, make-your-own stuffed animals, play-doh ice cream factory and other toys they now insist they can't live without.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Marketing works, folks.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After recovering from the horror of watching my kids mindlessly ask for junk they don't need just because the TV told them they wanted it, I decided that this was a prime chance to teach them about persuasion and marketing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still fast forward through most commercials, but occasionally we watch them together and discuss what the people who made the ad were trying to do. Did they want us to do something or buy something? Why do they say we need it? Do we &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; need it? Do we already have a similar item that works well for us?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's also started a discussion about money, both how we get money and what we do with it. Cordy and Mira still have trouble understanding that we have a finite amount of money to spend, and there are some things we have to spend our money on first (bills) before we can then consider items that aren't as necessary. Progress is slow in this area, but I think if we keep talking about it with them it'll sink in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I won't rant about the "evils" of marketing. I know that businesses need to sell their products, and it's up to their marketing departments to find a way to make the product appealing so that people will want to part with their money. Hell, I have an entire review blog devoted to trying out products of interest, using my real-life experience with an item to help provide an honest&amp;nbsp;testimonial for the product. I sell ad space on my blog. I get it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But just because&amp;nbsp;I believe there is a place in the world for marketing doesn't mean I plan to let my children be blind followers of consumerism. If they're going to see commercials (and as they get older they'll be exposed to more and more everywhere they go), I want them to think about more than what's being presented on the surface and consider the truth behind what's being said. Is that chocolate milk &lt;i&gt;really &lt;/i&gt;healthier? Healthier than &lt;i&gt;what&lt;/i&gt;? It certainly can't be as healthy as plain white milk, right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think this will be a lesson that continues for some time. I'm glad they didn't see as much advertising when they were younger, but now is a good time to start explaining how it works. They're as receptive to the message we're giving them as they are to the commercials - here's hoping we can be a little more persuasive than the marketing professionals at least most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(I can't say all the time, because let's face it - marketing works on me, too!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Full disclosure: Just in case it needs to be said, I do not endorse any of the products listed above, and specifically will NOT be taking Mira to Party City for her costume, but instead plan to visit a locally owned costume shop. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-8478572665226769616?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/BaCnO8vA0vY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/8478572665226769616/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=8478572665226769616" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8478572665226769616?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/8478572665226769616?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/BaCnO8vA0vY/after-these-messages.html" title="After These Messages" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xol-i5kfBg/TpfVQJJ0rcI/AAAAAAAACpM/Sv-PM9khMhA/s72-c/ABC-B.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/10/after-these-messages.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MEQX84eyp7ImA9WhdUGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-5118659267710428467</id><published>2011-10-06T07:10:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T07:10:00.133-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-06T07:10:00.133-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="growing up" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="school" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><title>Moments in Time</title><content type="html">I generally have mixed feelings about school picture day. We usually have to order the photos in advance, before the photographer even snaps the picture, leaving me wondering if my expensive gamble will result in a kid with one eye half closed or a frown on her face or if I might luck out with a good shot of her. Committing to two 8x10's, 4 5x7's, 2 3x5's and 2 sheets of wallets without seeing the photo first is hard to stomach. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No matter her look, the backgrounds are dull, the "enhancements" are usually worse and every kid has the same head and shoulders pose that has been used since my grandmother was in school. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
School photos also serve as an annual snapshot of where my kids are at the moment. You can see so much personality in their eyes, see how much they've developed and changed from the year before, and get an idea of what's going on in those little heads.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy's first school photo was when she was three and had just started special needs preschool.&amp;nbsp;She had just&amp;nbsp;received an educational diagnosis of autism, and&amp;nbsp;I think the photo says it all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l2kjsc1hS5U/To1poi2BuhI/AAAAAAAACoc/8DEFUyCW3tg/s1600/Cordyschool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" kca="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l2kjsc1hS5U/To1poi2BuhI/AAAAAAAACoc/8DEFUyCW3tg/s400/Cordyschool.jpg" width="318" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
All of the struggle against her senses, the confusion, and the uncertainty with the world around her was captured in that photo. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then there's her first grade photo.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-148BaDTwhl8/To1pw5px7MI/AAAAAAAACog/U4OZovwV7rU/s1600/SCAN0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" kca="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-148BaDTwhl8/To1pw5px7MI/AAAAAAAACog/U4OZovwV7rU/s400/SCAN0061.JPG" width="326" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I could write eloquent (or not so eloquent) sentences about the transformation she's made, but&amp;nbsp;words would&amp;nbsp;only be repetitive.&amp;nbsp;The two photos speak volumes about&amp;nbsp;what has changed&amp;nbsp;without any added explanation from me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Right now, I'm incredibly grateful to have these school photos to remind me of where she is in this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
---&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Pssst...have you voted for Cordy in the &lt;a href="http://www.columbusparent.com/content/stories/2011/contest/group7/037.html"&gt;Columbus Parent cover contest&lt;/a&gt;? I've been watching the competition, and there are some other kids getting a&amp;nbsp;LOT of votes at the moment. Do they really have families that big? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;C'mon, we can do better than that, right? If you haven't done it yet, please &lt;a href="http://www.columbusparent.com/content/stories/2011/contest/group7/037.html"&gt;leave a vote for Cordy&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-5118659267710428467?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/1troogCAq3A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/5118659267710428467/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=5118659267710428467" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/5118659267710428467?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/5118659267710428467?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/1troogCAq3A/moments-in-time.html" title="Moments in Time" /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l2kjsc1hS5U/To1poi2BuhI/AAAAAAAACoc/8DEFUyCW3tg/s72-c/Cordyschool.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/10/moments-in-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQCQXY7eyp7ImA9WhdUFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19222542.post-6744836848517385936</id><published>2011-10-03T07:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T07:46:00.803-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-03T07:46:00.803-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shameless promotion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASD" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ain't too proud to beg" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cordy" /><title>I Usually Don't Ask For Much...</title><content type="html">I try not to ask a lot of everyone who comes by this blog. I'm happy to share stories and photos and have discussions about deep topics like special needs education and which eighties cartoon to have my daughters watch next. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But today I'm asking for a small favor. Columbus Parent magazine is having a cover photo contest, and the winning child will get to be the cover model for one of the monthly issues. I normally try to avoid anything that involves voting - popularity contests just bring back nightmares of coming in last as a child, and I often feel that those with the most resources generate the most wins. (Although I actually have a pretty stellar resource with this blog and the Internet.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However,&amp;nbsp;I decided to enter this contest for a few reasons.&amp;nbsp;First, I've got&amp;nbsp;a couple of good-looking kids who would&amp;nbsp;both make&amp;nbsp;excellent cover models.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More importantly,&amp;nbsp;this would&amp;nbsp;be an excellent chance to&amp;nbsp;feature a child with autism on the cover of Columbus Parent. Cordy is not only beautiful, but she's smart and charming&amp;nbsp;and has an incredible story. At three years old we didn't know what the future would hold for her when&amp;nbsp;the autism label was applied. Would she be able to go to college? Would she&amp;nbsp;even be able to attend a regular classroom? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Everyone who visits here regularly has followed along through her transformation. Today,&amp;nbsp;at seven years old,&amp;nbsp;she spends&amp;nbsp;90% of her day in&amp;nbsp;a mainstream classroom and about 90% of the time she's a cheery ball of sunshine as well. She's reading well beyond her&amp;nbsp;first grade level and has just started working on double-digit addition and subtraction. The school wants to test her for the gifted education program. The latest report from her teachers is that she now runs with packs of other kids on the playground at recess instead of playing by herself, and possibly even has a friend or two.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cordy's a success story, and&amp;nbsp;she is a positive example of&amp;nbsp;a child with autism living&amp;nbsp;well &lt;em&gt;beyond&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;her label. She has her difficulties and still struggles with a lot of social issues, but she's &lt;em&gt;thriving&lt;/em&gt; in her environment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-274ds5X3M7c/ToliIAGLfHI/AAAAAAAACoY/Z4NMvCzFxHs/s1600/parkswing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" kca="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-274ds5X3M7c/ToliIAGLfHI/AAAAAAAACoY/Z4NMvCzFxHs/s400/parkswing.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Photo courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.heatherdurdil.com/"&gt;Heather Durdil﻿&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So...this all leads up to the favor I'm asking of you. Will you please &lt;a href="http://www.columbusparent.com/content/stories/2011/contest/group7/037.html"&gt;vote for Cordy in the Columbus Parent contest&lt;/a&gt;? You don't have to be a Columbus resident to vote. All you have to do is leave a comment under her photo with the word VOTE in it somewhere. Or just the word "vote" would do, too, if you're in a rush.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You do have to register for the site to vote. (I'm sorry - I wish they didn't have that restriction. Check your spam folder if you do register, as the confirmation email seems to go there for many people.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The voting round is open&amp;nbsp;until October 17, 2011 at noon ET. I can already tell there are some kids in this contest with large families, so we'll need all the help we can get! The top 5 kids with the highest votes will go on to the finalist round where the magazine will select the winner. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What's in it for you, you ask?&amp;nbsp;I don't really know what to offer in return. The privilege of knowing you helped the Amazon warrior princess get the cover of a magazine? A hand written thank you note from her? (Warning: her thank you notes are very short.) A promise from me&amp;nbsp;to post more often?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, if you have a moment, please &lt;a href="http://www.columbusparent.com/content/stories/2011/contest/group7/037.html"&gt;leave a vote for Cordy&lt;/a&gt;! And share it with your friends, too!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(And now I swear&amp;nbsp;I won't ask any more from you for at least another few months.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19222542-6744836848517385936?l=www.amommystory.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AMommyStory/~4/Suc3lhBHib8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.amommystory.com/feeds/6744836848517385936/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19222542&amp;postID=6744836848517385936" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6744836848517385936?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19222542/posts/default/6744836848517385936?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AMommyStory/~3/Suc3lhBHib8/i-usually-dont-ask-for-much.html" title="I Usually Don't Ask For Much..." /><author><name>Christina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07345875955750219033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWzHJcKmBBQ/TYrYFL1RzcI/AAAAAAAACbc/aohASnSoHUc/s220/headshot.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-274ds5X3M7c/ToliIAGLfHI/AAAAAAAACoY/Z4NMvCzFxHs/s72-c/parkswing.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.amommystory.com/2011/10/i-usually-dont-ask-for-much.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

