<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259</id><updated>2025-04-02T02:53:15.478-04:00</updated><category term="Scarlett"/><category term="motherhood"/><category term="The Scarlett Letters"/><category term="baby"/><category term="parenthood"/><category term="christmas"/><category term="childhood"/><category term="etsy"/><category term="pregnancy"/><category term="a letter to my daughter"/><category term="family"/><category term="first pregnancy"/><category term="new mom"/><category term="about me"/><category term="baby girl"/><category term="blog"/><category 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grammys"/><category term="the grass is never greener"/><category term="the money pit"/><category term="the most wonderful time of the year"/><category term="the new normal"/><category term="the scarlett letter"/><category term="the shining"/><category term="the sixties"/><category term="the times they are a changin&#39;"/><category term="the weather channel"/><category term="things I&#39;d like to do"/><category term="third birthday"/><category term="third trimester"/><category term="three year old"/><category term="throat"/><category term="thunderstorms"/><category term="time capsule"/><category term="time flies"/><category term="time for a change"/><category term="times have changed"/><category term="tip your server"/><category term="to my 2 year old"/><category term="today&#39;s youth"/><category term="toddler art"/><category term="toddler bedroom"/><category term="toddler learning"/><category term="toddler life"/><category term="toddler meltdowns"/><category term="toddler phases"/><category term="toddler pleas"/><category term="toddler refusing to eat"/><category term="toddler set in their ways"/><category term="toddler tantrums"/><category term="toddler trouble"/><category term="toddler with nursemaids elbow"/><category term="toddlers at Christmas"/><category term="toilet training"/><category term="tom hanks"/><category term="tour guides"/><category term="toys"/><category term="tradition"/><category term="traditions"/><category term="treadmill"/><category term="treasured moments"/><category term="treasures"/><category term="treasuries"/><category term="trees"/><category term="trial and error"/><category term="trial period"/><category term="trident white"/><category term="trigger songs"/><category term="trouble sleeping"/><category term="true love"/><category term="true story"/><category term="tummy time"/><category term="tunafish"/><category term="turn child&#39;s painting into wall art"/><category term="twin bed for toddler"/><category term="two year old"/><category term="two years old"/><category term="typewriter print"/><category term="typography"/><category term="umbrella"/><category term="untimely death"/><category term="up all night"/><category term="update"/><category term="update with paint"/><category term="upgrading phones"/><category term="upscale store"/><category term="urban outfitters"/><category term="using utensils at mealtime"/><category term="vacation"/><category term="valentines day"/><category term="vapors"/><category term="vector prints"/><category term="vegetables"/><category term="vera wang"/><category term="vince vaughn"/><category term="vintage telephone"/><category term="vision problems"/><category term="waiting room"/><category term="waking from scary dreams"/><category term="waking up"/><category term="walk"/><category term="wall art"/><category term="warm weather"/><category term="watch what you say"/><category term="week 29"/><category term="weight loss"/><category term="well being"/><category term="wellness"/><category term="what I&#39;m thankful for"/><category term="what I&#39;ve learned"/><category term="what kind of mother are you? sing-a-longs"/><category term="what matters most"/><category term="what works for you"/><category term="what&#39;s in my bag"/><category term="what&#39;s on your fridge"/><category term="when i grow up"/><category term="whirlpool"/><category term="white russian"/><category term="who you are"/><category term="wife has cancer"/><category term="wife with cancer"/><category term="will arnett"/><category term="will ferrell"/><category term="willpower"/><category term="wine"/><category term="wine tasting"/><category term="winning the lottery"/><category term="winter"/><category term="wishes"/><category term="wishes for the future"/><category term="wishlist"/><category term="witchcraft"/><category term="witches"/><category term="wooden brooch"/><category term="woods"/><category term="working out"/><category term="working outside"/><category term="workspace"/><category term="worry wart"/><category term="worrying"/><category term="wrinkles"/><category term="writing children&#39;s books"/><category term="writing project"/><category term="yard toys"/><category term="yard work"/><category term="yelling"/><category term="you rock school of music podcast"/><category term="youth"/><title type='text'>sheribloggins</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>418</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-3352367769737045246</id><published>2020-12-22T17:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2020-12-22T18:02:40.652-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="looking back"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="loss"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="loved ones"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="making memories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reminiscing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="simple joys"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thanksgiving"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="treasured moments"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what matters most"/><title type='text'>Treasure your moments... </title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Today, I stood in the snow at my grandmother&#39;s grave. My mother, as always, brought the sweetest arrangement of seasonal flowers and&amp;nbsp;little ornaments for her mother and father. We always make a few comments about them and how nice they are... followed by comments on how disgusting it is that they will be tossed in the dumpster or resold by the jerks who take them away after a few weeks. For shame.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;I hadn&#39;t gotten a chance to change my boots from earlier in the day so&amp;nbsp;I was naturally wearing&amp;nbsp;inappropriate footwear for snow-trudging. We joked as the buckles kept coming unsnapped as I pulled each foot out of the mounds of snow. Foolish girl with zero grace. We cleaned off the&amp;nbsp;grave stone, arranged the flowers and took our moments. It was in those moments that I had the best holiday montage play in my mind. It was of nearly&amp;nbsp;every holiday that I&#39;d spent with my grandmother for all of our forty years together. The images were so vivid. The happiness that I saw and&amp;nbsp;felt was so pure. And at that point I was reminded that I hadn&#39;t really lost my grandmother. I lost the ability to make future memories with her. And, while that feels immense a lot of the time, it&#39;s always comforting to look back with such admiration on the countless times we&amp;nbsp;shared together.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;I am always telling the girls that it&#39;s never about the things that we GET it&#39;s always about the time that we spend together with the people that we love. We could be doing the&amp;nbsp;simplest thing together and that will be cemented in our memory forever. For&amp;nbsp;example, one of my most treasured memories with my grandmother is of us watching a TV adaptation of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane on a&amp;nbsp;Thanksgiving Eve. Part of the reason I think it stuck with me is because I was so happy to be allowed to stay up until it ended at 11 pm. Another reason is because Lynn Redgrave was semi-terrifying in that role. Either way, Gram and I shared a love for thrillers. I remember watching Hitchcock with her and sharing books like Rosemary&#39;s Baby. You&#39;d never think it to look at her but she did love her a creepy tale.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Holidays will never pass without me&amp;nbsp;reminiscing. In so many ways Gram WAS our holiday. She would come to our house the night before and help&amp;nbsp;prepare the meal. She always cleaned the turkey for Thanksgiving (because my mother&amp;nbsp;skeeved it beyond belief). I can&#39;t tell you how many Christmas mornings I stood layering lasagna with her... I remember how she always took a little of the ricotta mixture for herself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;It truly is the little things that make the fondest memories. It&#39;s not about getting that bike when you were ten. It&#39;s that someone ate the entire bowl of onion dip with their hands. It&#39;s about getting the giggles during Midnight Mass and possibly exchanging words with the people sitting in front of you while your mother sat mortified beside you pretending to shrink into her pocketbook. It&#39;s about anxiously awaiting the arrival of your Christmas Eve dinner guest, staring out the front window, steamy from when you&#39;r mom drained the pasta. It&#39;s the joy on the faces of everyone you love.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s in those moments that we are most human. Let&#39;s have all of those moments this week, the week after that and every week following.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Don&#39;t lose sight of what brings you joy. It&#39;s been a tough year no&amp;nbsp;doubt - but even when the gatherings are small&amp;nbsp;there are still big&amp;nbsp;moments to cherish.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Wishing you all the happiest of holidays. Cheers to 2021! Hoping it brings good health and joy to you all.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;(This one&#39;s for you, Gram).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;With love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Sheri&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/3352367769737045246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/12/treasure-your-moments.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/3352367769737045246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/3352367769737045246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/12/treasure-your-moments.html' title='Treasure your moments... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-7788564840679251166</id><published>2020-10-04T09:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2020-10-04T09:21:56.423-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self care"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self evaluation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stop judging"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what works for you"/><title type='text'>A little eval time ... </title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Whew.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here we are. The weather is finally showing me some love... leaves on the ground, beautiful color out there nice and early due to the heinous drought. Silver lining. An occasional hoodie or sweater has been worn. Turned the heat on a bit to cozy it up. I can feel the shift. I am in a much better place now. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We are just a few weeks into distance learning and it is going just okay. It is by no means &quot;the easy way out.&quot; We are putting in a LOT of work every single day. It is absolutely exhausting most days. I am teaching Daisy everyday - Math, Religion, Social Studies and Phonics. She has a super nice teacher who she meets with briefly several times each week and gets to see her classmates and friends which she loves. I don&#39;t &lt;i&gt;want&lt;/i&gt; her to be separated from her class and teacher and all of the fun that goes along with Kindergarten but this is the best choice for us. It&#39;s not an easy choice, it&#39;s not without a deep commitment, super busy schedule, extreme organization, sadness or guilt but it is still the &lt;i&gt;best choice for us&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scarlett&#39;s teacher is also fantastic. She is focusing heavily on math and reading and doing very well. Scarlett will be making her First Communion in a couple of weeks. It will look very different this year. Just immediate family. No pictures in church. No reception. We will find a way to make it special for her nonetheless.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What a crazy time we are living in. I am seeing so much division and so much finger pointing and judging. I don&#39;t understand why people have to tear apart the personal decisions of others. I see things that I don&#39;t agree with everyday and I&#39;m not going to run my mouth about it and make someone feel like garbage. Where does that get me? Aren&#39;t we all just doing what works best for us?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;m going to be totally honest here. This year has been an absolute game changer for me. Maybe it&#39;s my age, maybe it&#39;s having had life come to a dead halt in March. Maybe it was the extra down time this summer in which I took to reflect on the person that I am. We know who we are, right? Hmm. Do we? Maybe somewhere down the line we take a deeper look. And maybe then things seem a bit clearer and it all clicks into place. Maybe we don&#39;t want to continue to do things the way we&#39;ve always done them. &lt;i&gt;(&quot;What you allow is what will continue&quot;)&lt;/i&gt; Maybe we decide to take care of ourselves a little bit more than we had all those years. There might be an initial struggle with the idea that we are being &lt;i&gt;selfish&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; ... &amp;nbsp;but we aren&#39;t. Self care and self love have never been my strong suits. I will badger my girls everyday to make certain that they know they are amazing and that they do great things. But I never told myself those things or believed those things throughout my life. So now, I am reflecting. Slowly accepting that I am totally worthy of taking time for myself to do things that make me happy. Now more than ever. Maybe my decisions make you unhappy sometimes. Maybe I don&#39;t participate in everything I&#39;ve done in the past. Maybe I change up whatever the hell I want because it&#39;s my life and I can do that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bottom line is: Check in with yourself. Are you happy doing things the way you&#39;ve always done them? Just because it&#39;s &quot;how it is&quot; or it&#39;s the &quot;routine.&quot; Stop it. You can change anything you want. At any time. You might ruffle a few feathers but people will get over it - and if they don&#39;t ... who needs that kind of negativity? It is your life after all. I am sticking up for all of the people being judged right now. Do what works for YOU. As long as you are putting out good things and not being a jerk - life can be a whole lot better than it has been. Promise.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Sunday!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;xo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/7788564840679251166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/10/a-little-eval-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7788564840679251166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7788564840679251166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/10/a-little-eval-time.html' title='A little eval time ... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-9032006763915013645</id><published>2020-08-29T10:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-08-29T10:37:06.247-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2020"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="autumn"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="back to school"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hallmark"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hallmark Christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hygge"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="teachers"/><title type='text'>What&#39;s getting me by... </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;Happy Saturday, gang!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;I haven&#39;t felt like posting in a while but today I figured I&#39;d pop by for a few. I hope you are all feeling well and able to enjoy some of the weekend. It&#39;s rainy here but&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve always been a fan of the gloom. It&#39;s a day of laundry and cleaning and&amp;nbsp;organizing ... much like every other single day of my life. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;I am writing this by the hum of the&amp;nbsp;dryer and the welcomed sounds of Christmas music playing from my&amp;nbsp;iTunes. That&#39;s right. Sing it, Mr. Como.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;Lately, I&#39;ve been in a pretty good groove. Sure, things around me are exploding and crumbling to the ground but we are managing this household with grace. HAHAHAHA. Sorry,&amp;nbsp;I cannot pretend that I have one ounce of grace. Not even for a second. But we are muddling through as best we can. We have been keeping our circle small and finding allllll the ways to keep the girls engaged, active, creative and happy. Thank you, Intex, for your weird yet adequate pool. It is the only way we can stand the unacceptable heat of the summer in our backyard. We all know I&#39;m not traipsing through a forest until every last bug has died and the temp drops below 60. It will come. It always does.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;The idea that Fall is on its way is just enough to propel me through this insane hurdle that is &quot;Back to School.&quot; We have opted to continue with distance learning and I feel good about that. I empathize with every teacher out there. These are titanic decisions to be made and are no doubt exhausting. Thank you for giving up your summer to do your best as always. I only hope that seeing a chunky, rust colored sweater in Target will bring you a fraction of the joy that it brings me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;In just a few days I will be switching out my most dreaded calendar block (May, June, July, August) for my&amp;nbsp;absolute favorite (September, October, November, December). I know, it seems insane to even bring this up in a blog post but I&#39;ve done it. And I&#39;ve probably done it in the past as well but we all know how polished my memory is. I cannot wait for the crisp mornings. Being able to sit out on the deck without sweating and buzzing sounds. NOT watering flowers. Can we just accept the fact that I don&#39;t enjoy plants. I feel&amp;nbsp;like they try to please with their beauty and benefits but it&#39;s just not enough for me. I&amp;nbsp;don&#39;t know what I&#39;m doing, I kill them... or stunt them... overwater or underwater. I find myself sneering at them. They know they&#39;re unappreciated and they act accordingly. It&#39;s mutual really.&amp;nbsp;Give me some mums on the front steps for a month. I can do that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;I have spent a LOT of time watching Christmas and Winter themed Hallmark movies. I&#39;m a changed woman. I know now that I was meant to live in a mountain town with kind folk and a super charming&amp;nbsp;Main Street. I should be wearing fair isle sweaters and scarves and spending all of my time baking goodies for my little shop on my&amp;nbsp;husband&#39;s tree farm. Traveling only by horse-drawn sleigh and&amp;nbsp;having at least one spontaneous snowball fight weekly. Warm drinks in my hand all day and night. Hygge forever! Seriously though, I am hooked on the dreamy idea that people really do live that way. And I really do dream of being one of them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m off to crank the central air, make some hot chocolate and throw some ice at my kids. Gotta start somewhere, right?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;Have a great&amp;nbsp;weekend!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica;&quot;&gt;xo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/9032006763915013645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/08/whats-getting-me-by.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/9032006763915013645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/9032006763915013645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/08/whats-getting-me-by.html' title='What&#39;s getting me by... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-7355773074696966812</id><published>2020-04-18T09:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-18T09:53:12.197-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="against the grain"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bugs"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="oddball"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="paint and vino"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="podcast"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="snow in April"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="winter"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="You Rock School of Music Cranston RI"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="you rock school of music podcast"/><title type='text'>Against the grain... </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;A snowy morning in April? Hell yes. That was one beautiful coffee-sipping view. I know, you probably woke up pissed about it. I&#39;m not happy that you&#39;re upset to see it but it sure did make my day.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve always kinda been the odd man out. I prefer Winter and cold weather while the majority of the world would take shorts and sweltering sun. No thanks, shorts, I&#39;m all set with you. I&#39;ll sit uncomfortably in my jeans in August. Trying my hardest to &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; be outside unless I am inches from the ocean. (My attire changes&amp;nbsp;slightly whilst I sit by the sea). Late October through March, however, I will spend all the time in the world breathing in that cold (somewhat) fresh air. But ya&#39;ll don&#39;t want to hang out there with me then, do you?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m certainly not an avid hiker but I do really love walks in the woods... in November. You&#39;re not finding me dwelling amidst a thick forest if there is even a hint of humidity in the air or a winged insect... or a crawling insect for that matter. The more leaves on the trees the less my chances are of being outside. I prefer a bare tree silhouette&amp;nbsp;any day. This is the time of year in which I truly appreciate the last of the branchy views and I take lots of crappy sunset pics to capture them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;As for books - I&#39;m not really a big reader of popular best sellers. I&#39;ll read anything Stephen King puts out but that&#39;s as far as it goes. I also don&#39;t love audiobooks or podcasts (Shout out to the&lt;span style=&quot;color: red;&quot;&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/you-rock-school-of-music-podcast/id1493717310&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;You Rock School of Music podcast&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;) I do have a couple of favorites but I guess I&#39;d rather read or view the material than just listen to it. I don&#39;t comprehend as well by just listening - I&#39;m incredibly visual. My guitar instructor can tell me the same thing over and over again but until I actually print out exactly what I need to learn and study it I just can&#39;t grasp it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m also not a &quot;Paint and Vino - Girls Night Out&quot; kinda gal. I don&#39;t want to paint what you want me to paint. I also don&#39;t need to sit in a group of thirty women I don&#39;t know giggling over Zinfandel. I&#39;m not knocking it for all of those who enjoy it! I love you guys and love that you enjoy it! I&#39;ve seen plenty of posts on social media of amazing paintings that have come from these events. But much like a Pampered Chef party or Thunder From Down Under night - I&#39;m not&amp;nbsp;attending. Give me my best friends in a brewery or vineyard and I am more than happy to stand around with my glass having a fantastic time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I am going to end it here because this list goes on and on and on ... I always intend on&amp;nbsp;writing shorter posts but my typing fingers are very wordy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I hope you all have a great weekend! See you soon!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;xo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/7355773074696966812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/against-grain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7355773074696966812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7355773074696966812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/against-grain.html' title='Against the grain... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-7047500361544943625</id><published>2020-04-07T15:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-07T15:26:33.007-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cranston"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Guitar"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="music"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="music lessons"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RI"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sean P. Rogan"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="You Rock"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="You Rock School of Music Cranston RI"/><title type='text'>You Rock</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica;&quot;&gt;This post is about my love for music and my gratitude to my friend Sean for pushing me out of the comfort zone in which I dwelled for way too many years.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica;&quot;&gt;For those of you who don&#39;t know who I&#39;m talking about - Sean (&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.seanprogan.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Sean P. Rogan&lt;/a&gt;) is the owner of and one of the instructors at &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.yourockschoolofmusic.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;You Rock School of Music&lt;/a&gt;. We spend a lot of time&amp;nbsp;together as our daughters are in the same class at school and have daily conversations about music. Given my obvious&amp;nbsp;obsession with music h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;e could never understand why I wouldn&#39;t just simply take a guitar class and &quot;make music a bigger part of my life&quot;. I had a plethora of foolish reasons I would spit out weekly but&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I remember one day telling him, “Maybe I’m just meant to be a spectator.”&amp;nbsp;And he quickly assured me that wasn’t the case.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;God bless him, he tried. He tried weekly if not daily to just get me into a class.&lt;i&gt; &quot;I&#39;m too self conscious&quot; ... &quot;I can&#39;t play&amp;nbsp;guitar, &amp;nbsp;I tried back in high school&quot; ... &quot;I&amp;nbsp;don&#39;t have time for lessons&quot; ... &quot;I can&#39;t be in a group, I would be way too nervous&quot; ... &quot;I don&#39;t have a guitar.&quot; &lt;/i&gt;I had a million of them. One day he placed a semi-beat-up acoustic by the tire of my car and told me class starts Wednesday. I was so stunned by that gesture I felt &lt;i&gt;obligated &lt;/i&gt;to go to that class. And something changed in that moment when I made up my mind to go. I went to that class.&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Shout out to Ted Larson, the amazing Beginner Guitar class instructor!)&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;And I&#39;ve never looked back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica;&quot;&gt;I cannot tell you how much I have gotten out of this entire&amp;nbsp;experience since I started taking lessons. What I pour into my practices. How much I really want to play the electric when&amp;nbsp;I never in a million years thought I would even touch one. The total&amp;nbsp;satisfaction I get from finally conquering something I’ve worked on for months. The way I listen to music with a &quot;different&quot; ear. The feeling that I am in&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;insider&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;now. Like&amp;nbsp;I have a backstage pass to the music world instead of the cheap lawn seats.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica;&quot;&gt;I urge all of you, if you have always wanted to play an&amp;nbsp;instrument but keep chickening out, DO IT. Just DOOOOO IT. You can think about it for the rest of your life wishing you&#39;d tried or you can actually make up your mind and start today. During this social distancing mess you can even take virtual lessons - in your pajamas - from your bed. Well, maybe not a drum lesson from your bed but you get me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica;&quot;&gt;I can&#39;t say enough about the staff at You Rock. Each instructor&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;brings their own flavor to the lesson. All incredibly skilled with beautiful personalities. Check them out at www.YouRockSchoolofMusic.com for more info. I&#39;m telling you, this has changed my life. I&#39;ve never felt such a sense of accomplishment or had such a drive to continue on a path. I&#39;m hooked.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Sean, thank you so much for&amp;nbsp;consistently nudging me toward the cliff until&amp;nbsp;I fell.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Forever grateful,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Sheri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/7047500361544943625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/you-rock.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7047500361544943625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7047500361544943625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/you-rock.html' title='You Rock'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-2903718869545322052</id><published>2020-04-04T18:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-04T18:09:34.040-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="a good day"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="calm"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="making memories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="much needed break"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="siblings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tattle tales"/><title type='text'>Sweet frigging Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I am definitely feeling the wave of calmness today, thank GOD. We took it really slow this morning. It was so nice to not have to have a full agenda. I let the girls play games on their tablets for an extra hour and then decided to surprise them with some baking. They lovvvve to bake. It&#39;s a dash of elbowing each other out of the way, sprinkled with, &quot;it&#39;s my turrrrrrrrn&quot; followed by a generous cup of my stern voice barking the rules of the kitchen. The pictures I sometimes take suggest otherwise but I know the real story. Who&#39;s had the mixer for too long, why did SHE get to put in the vanilla?! Of course all the while I&#39;m monitoring for any licking of fingers - those offenders are sent to the sink for the eighth time. All in all I do enjoy it. We&#39;ll have these memories forever... Sinatra in the background, their little ice cream aprons. Pretty sweet.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I had some time to myself while they were actually playing together nicely. I used it to tie up a few loose ends and then got in some good guitar practice. Currently working on power chords and finger picking. Not together of course. I&#39;m also putting together different chord progressions to start writing some songs which I am really looking forward to. I love having different creative outlets like writing, graphic design and music. I try to fit at least one of those in each day but it&#39;s always great when I can get to all three!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;The girls played outside most of the afternoon and I am happy to report there was only ONE tattle-tale incident! Normally I hear that sliding door open and a voice yell, &quot;She just pushed me out of the playhouuuuuuuse!&quot; or &quot;I was using a stick and she took it and threw it at meeeeeeeee!&quot; And I&#39;m purposely dragging out those words so you can HEAR the singsongy voice that they use to yell these tales. Some days only a minute or two passes before that door slides open once again. And those are the days where I lose my shit. They are ordered inside to sweep the dirt that came out from under their shoes and they are sent upstairs to learn how to play together without fighting. Ahhh, memories of my own childhood.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;But today was a good day! I thought I should share that with you because we&#39;ve had a lot of not so good days lately. Collectively. I&#39;m hoping that you found some peace today too. That your slider didn&#39;t burst open over and over ruining your groove. I&#39;m savoring this weekend like none other... and we still have TOMORROW!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Cheers!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;xo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/2903718869545322052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/sweet-frigging-saturday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2903718869545322052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2903718869545322052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/sweet-frigging-saturday.html' title='Sweet frigging Saturday'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-5692805266437786820</id><published>2020-04-02T18:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-02T18:41:42.287-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="count your blessings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="home schooling"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="social distancing"/><title type='text'>It&#39;s our mess </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Alright. So maybe we aren&#39;t quite &#39;in the groove&#39; yet. I think we are more like, &quot;HEY, today was a pretty good day compared to the last 712.&quot; Although it&#39;s only been what? 4 weeks? How is that even possible??&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Today felt hectic. It just felt messy and hard to manage. I lost&amp;nbsp;control almost immediately after breakfast and never really regained it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Daisy didn&#39;t feel like doing her school work and to be honest she only attends three days a week so I should really keep that in mind. I tend to forget that now that we are doing it all at home.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Scarlett has trouble sitting still and focusing at home. Too many distractions here. She gets caught up in commenting on EVERY SINGLE POST in google classroom and she&#39;s learned how to email her teachers with questions now so that takes up about 97% of her time. (Sorry, teachers).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I start the day by reading any emails and all instructions from teachers, making sure I know what is expected of both girls. I save all files and out print everything - anyone else going&amp;nbsp;through ink and paper faster than that 1-ply toilet paper you were lucky to score at Family Dollar? I can&#39;t be the only one. I let Scarlett choose the order in which she does her assignments but I&#39;ll be honest, if it&#39;s nice outside I toss the two of them out each morning. Fresh air and exercise!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I almost always miss information or forget about a class Zoom meeting. And when we do get on them we get&amp;nbsp;kicked off at least twice. And I have no tolerance for that stuff. These virtual meetings are killing me slowly, a little more each day. We currently have about 8 or 9 weekly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;In other news, I am very lenient with P.E. assignments because I figure if they are outside running around for 2 hours that is a pretty good&amp;nbsp;substitute. I hand out snacks roughly every twenty nine seconds - flying&amp;nbsp;through Goldfish and Craisins, yogurt and nonsense fruit twist things. I check in with Scarlett every so often to see what she has left to work on I crack the whip a bit. Daisy will usually do one or two dittos and then we play with Magna Tiles or her favorite game - Petco. Yes. She asks me to play Petco with her everyday. I am the&amp;nbsp;customer looking for whichever animal she chooses to be at the time. A bunny. A ferret. An orange kitten with gray ears and purple spots. You&amp;nbsp;get the idea. She cozies up under a blanket on the floor and makes squeaky animal noises. I ask if she is for sale and then scoop her up and take her home with me. Game doesn&#39;t end there. It repeats. Over and over again. For eleven straight hours. And yes, I know I will absolutely miss this one day.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;That&#39;s what we need to keep in mind right now, I think. We will all miss these days ONE DAY. Maybe not in the near future because we are all just about burned&amp;nbsp;completely&amp;nbsp;out. But maybe ten years from now. We will&amp;nbsp;inevitabley&amp;nbsp;see an old picture of them and wish to see them that way again. I will be begging a 15 year old girl to lay on the floor and pretend she&#39;s a green guinea pig and she will probably tell me to&amp;nbsp;cut the shit and get lost.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;If we are lucky&amp;nbsp;enough to be home with our family right now then we truly have it all. It&#39;s a proper mess, no doubt, but it&#39;s our mess... and it WILL be a memory one day. If you can pause for a moment and&amp;nbsp;take a breath, remember to count your blessings.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Keep on&amp;nbsp;keepin&#39; on!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;xo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/5692805266437786820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/its-our-mess.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/5692805266437786820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/5692805266437786820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/04/its-our-mess.html' title='It&#39;s our mess '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-448855369546658565</id><published>2020-03-30T14:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-03-30T14:53:43.269-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Castle Rock"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="home schooling"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="our new normal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="social distancing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stephen King"/><title type='text'>The groove </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Hello again. How are you feeling on this gloomy Monday? We&#39;ve just been told about the schools being closed through April, but we pretty much knew that was coming. We are doing ok over here. The girls&#39; school work is becoming a bit easier to sort and maintain. We&#39;ve designated certain areas for work to be done, finished work and a place for all of the daily school supplies needed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;They both seem to have accepted that this is how things are for now.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;We are all doing our best to make everything feel as normal as possible. Abnormally normal. Counting our blessings every day!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;It was a pretty good&amp;nbsp;weekend here. Very productive yet restful and quiet. We listened to the new Pearl Jam album&amp;nbsp;which I like a lot, made a nice &amp;nbsp;Italian meal and got outside a bit. Capped it all off with a pretty decent&amp;nbsp;thunderstorm last night that had Rummy (our cat) and Scarlett on edge. She tried to play it cool like the thunder was &quot;distracting her&quot; from her nightly reading but I got her number. I also started watching Castle Rock which I was sucked into from the start. I lovvvve Stephen King and I feel like I&#39;ve been waiting for something like this since&amp;nbsp;I was ten. Looking forward to ending each night with an eerie little episode or two. Check it out if you haven&#39;t already and are into that sort of thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Oh, wonderful! Daisy just broke up the day by renting two My Little Pony movies from the Fire Stick. Thanks, Dais! I felt like pissing away $10 and fooling with the parental control settings this afternoon. Worth noting: there are at least seventeen thousand other My Little Pony movies that she&amp;nbsp;could&#39;ve viewed for zip. Upside? She&#39;s actually watching the movie and being still.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I guess I&#39;ll end here for today. I hope you are all adjusting and finding this week to be less stressful and a little more easy going. Keep a positive attitude, look for the silver linings, hug a care bear or whatever. Just don&#39;t let it get you way down. It&#39;s not forever!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;xo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/448855369546658565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/03/the-groove.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/448855369546658565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/448855369546658565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/03/the-groove.html' title='The groove '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-7239596628693865592</id><published>2020-03-24T15:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-03-24T15:04:13.140-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="get outside"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homeschooling"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="new normal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="social distancing"/><title type='text'>Tomorrow we&#39;re starting fresh!</title><content type='html'>Well, here we are. Day 7 of home schooling. I&#39;d say it&#39;s going as expected. There are a lot of emails. A lot of assignments. There&#39;s a lot of searching for a pencil with an eraser. Followed by a lot of searching for an eraser. (Didn&#39;t we all buy like thirty pink erasers at the beginning of the school year?! I bet they&#39;re all piled up in an old vitamin container in Scarlett&#39;s room). There are lessons in not coloring with a highlighter. Repetitive teaching moments showing Daisy how to properly hold her scissors. There&#39;s a lot of running from the bedroom to help Scarlett on the computer to the dining room to explain worksheets to Daisy and back again. There is some regret over not having a laptop... or an iPad. Some pondering over whether to buy another whole bunch of school supplies. Agonizing over whether I&#39;m driving them too hard or not pushing enough. A bunch of complaining ... by all of us, ultimately ending up in &lt;i&gt;OK, we are done for today, go outside and run around!&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
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Pause. Take a breather. Regroup. Watch them play. Laughing on the swings. Running around the yard. Falling down the hill. Throwing gravel. Some yelling. Oh, Daisy&#39;s crying. She&#39;s hit her head again. We blow her nose and back she goes. It was after this that I saw an opportunity to put a little patch on our day. I went outside with a tennis ball and the three of us played catch for forty minutes. I expected maybe ten or fifteen but they were so engaged they just wanted to keep at it! I was more than happy to play, it was one of my favorite things to do when I was a kid. We will certainly be adding more activities like that into our curriculum. &lt;br /&gt;
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These days have been challenging but after the tense moments I remind myself that this is difficult. It&#39;s difficult for everyone. The stress of what is going on in the world is enough to wear us down mentally. Adding new mandatory tasks and routines creates extra tension. Our children, who may seem like nothing is worrying them, are trying to figure out their new normal. Why can&#39;t they leave the house? Why aren&#39;t they allowed back at school? Why can&#39;t they see their grandparents? When can they play with their friends again? Why the hell are they constantly wearing pajamas!? How LONG is this going to last? The answers aren&#39;t easy for any of us to hear. I&#39;m sure it&#39;s all taking a toll on their fragile minds. Scarlett is a deep over-thinker, a bit of an anxious kid, and she&#39;s quiet about it. (Until about 9:20 pm when she&#39;s ready to host a two hour interview about my childhood). So, tomorrow we are going a bit easier. We will get all of the work done but without the rigidness. I will try harder to not let my stress level spill out in the form of sighs. I will try to channel the patience of a teacher. I&#39;ll probably eat more Cadbury mini eggs. Those are on my list of &quot;essentials&quot; with good reason. I vow to better plan our day to cut back on whatever is making it feel like a rusted out roller coaster track with that one cart in which the seat belt was cut clean off. &lt;br /&gt;
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We will alllllll figure it out! It&#39;s going to be just fine in the end. That&#39;s a fact. &lt;br /&gt;
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You can always feel free to vent to me about your stressful days, we are in it together, friends! Keep going!&lt;br /&gt;
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xo      </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/7239596628693865592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/03/tomorrow-were-starting-fresh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7239596628693865592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7239596628693865592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/03/tomorrow-were-starting-fresh.html' title='Tomorrow we&#39;re starting fresh!'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-7238229311507213327</id><published>2020-03-22T10:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2020-03-22T10:28:58.919-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2020"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="alone together"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="coronavirus"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="covid 19"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="home schooling"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="socialization"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stay at home"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stay well"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the new normal"/><title type='text'>Hello again! </title><content type='html'>Hi friends! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just blew the dust off of this old blog! It&#39;s been a WHILE... and to be honest, I&#39;ve been sitting here for over 20 minutes trying to figure out how to change up the formatting a bit and I&#39;ve had zero success. Haha. Blogger has changed quite a bit since my last go. Also I&#39;ve forgotten how some of these things work in my older age. SO, until I feel like renovating the entire thing we will just continue in the old familiar. You all couldn&#39;t care less about a font choice anyway, right? (Why is it so small?? Ohhhhh, because my eyesight has also changed quite a bit since my last go).&lt;br /&gt;
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So... WHAT&#39;S NEW?? &lt;br /&gt;
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You can feel my smirk I&#39;ll bet. &lt;br /&gt;
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Ugh. I&#39;m assuming the lot of you are reading this from the comfort of your home. You know, what with the Global Pandemic and such. I hope you are all faring well during these insane times. We are holding it down over here. Gregg is still working at this time and I am home with the two young&#39;ns. They are both missing school much more than I would&#39;ve ever thought! Scarlett received school work all week long and I made sure that Daisy had a few daily worksheets to keep her from feeling left out. She is getting her REAL school work tomorrow. And so we begin our new &lt;i&gt;temporary&lt;/i&gt; normal. &lt;br /&gt;
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I give so much credit to all of our amazing teachers who, in a pinch, figured out how to make virtual learning readily and easily available to all. Well done! I also want to thank every single healthcare worker, grocery/retail/restaurant worker, first responder and anyone who isn&#39;t sitting in a recliner right now due to playing a necessary part in keeping our world moving. Forever grateful. &lt;br /&gt;
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All that being said... I&#39;m feeling a little strange these days. Can&#39;t fully explain it. Not scared. Not really sad, although the thought of missing some special events and days - like my father&#39;s upcoming 70th birthday, Easter dinner with the family and Scarlett&#39;s first communion have me a bit deflated. Last week was an ANXIOUS time. I read way too many articles about Covid-19 (so I could sift through them all and figure out what I believe to be the real deal) and was setting up online schoolwork for Scarlett, trying to make the girls&#39; days feel somewhat normal while passing out snacks every thirteen seconds and coming up with new crafts and new couch forts. I marveled over the fact that toilet paper was sold out across the country because some people are straight insane. I worried about limited trips to the grocery store and all of these small businesses that will have no choice but to close their doors. I was suddenly thrust into a world of Zoom lessons and Face Time sessions. All of which make me incredibly uncomfortable. I realize these are great options to keep socialization going... but I also realize my level of social participation has declined some over the years! These new orders asking the public to stay home made it crystal clear to me that I am very, very, very good at being home. I spent fifteen straight years spending the least amount of time at home as humanly possible - only to have children and realize &lt;i&gt;home&lt;/i&gt; is the bees knees. Don&#39;t get me wrong, I do love sitting around a table with friends and a couple of drinks, listening to music and laughing for hours. But those nights are few and far between and I actually LIKE it that way. I think it makes me appreciate those times even more! I find myself often making plans and then when the day comes I almost DREAD it. That sounds so awful, I know. I guess I&#39;ve become a true introvert. Or maybe I&#39;ve always been an introvert but didn&#39;t realize it due to the amount of alcohol I consumed in my younger years. Who&#39;s to say? Nowadays, I&#39;m a gal who enjoys her leggings and beat up &quot;house hoodies,&quot; ambient light and The Golden Girls on the screen. That is how I unwind at the end of the day. Not quite a hermit yet... but a lot closer to an 80 year old than I would&#39;ve guessed I&#39;d be at this point. I do fill a lot of my time with independent, yet enriching activities. Graphic design, creative writing and playing guitar. It&#39;s this trio that has transformed my life and given me such a satisfied soul. You know when you feel like something is missing? I found what was missing. And I now do those things as much as possible.  &lt;br /&gt;
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One last thing I would like to share... &lt;br /&gt;
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I MIGHT loathe You Tube toy videos even more than a tuna sandwich. And man do I hate tuna. WHO STARTED THESE VIDEOS!?!?!?!! The voice that I hear coming out of that television right now??? Stop. Just STOP IT. Why do my children want to WATCH some kooky-ass lady, who probably has an Apple Brown Betty burning in the oven, unwrap and play with little figures and playsets!?!?!?! It is maddening!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
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Anyway, I hope you all find things that satisfy your soul in these uncertain times...&lt;br /&gt;
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Stay well, friends! &lt;br /&gt;
xo</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/7238229311507213327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/03/hello-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7238229311507213327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7238229311507213327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2020/03/hello-again.html' title='Hello again! '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-3320616403435056075</id><published>2019-06-24T20:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2019-06-24T20:38:05.368-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beach days"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family time"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids at the beach"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="summer"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="summertime"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the beach"/><title type='text'>Ahhhhh, summertime once again... </title><content type='html'>And so it begins.&lt;br /&gt;
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The long, bright days filled with popsicles and playgrounds, swimsuits and sleepovers, cookouts and camp-outs. Yeah, no, we only do about 1/3 of those things. And I&#39;m actually terrible at math so that figure is probably generous. Or stingy. Whichever.&lt;br /&gt;
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Summertime is, of course, when the majority of people pack up the ol&#39; Subaru and head to the shore for an eight hour day of family fun memory making. I imagine these people tossing a beach ball or frisbee, eating watermelon wedges, gleefully splashing each other in the waves and laughing the day away. They might stop for ice cream or a quick dinner at the clam shack on the ride home and after showers they pile into a big bed for a movie night complete with popcorn and junior mints. Sounds dreamy.&lt;br /&gt;
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We do it slightly different over here. First off, if I am even toying with the idea of a beach day I keep that thought to myself for at least three days. That way I can spend a very fair chunk of my time agonizing over every single detail of how this plan could all go down. &lt;i&gt;Do the girls&#39; bathing suits fit properly? Do we need coverups? Does anyone even wear coverups anymore? Can Daisy handle flip flops in the sand? Maybe she should wear water shoes. Yeah, idiot, that&#39;s what you bought them for, isn&#39;t it? Should we bring the big cooler? I don&#39;t even know where their sand toys are. Time to start stalking the beach forecast and tide chart and what about the seaweed factor. Do the beaches have those little bugs like last year? Vomit. What will we bring to eat? Scarlett only eats PB&amp;amp;J so that&#39;s just gonna attract all the bees. We need a new umbrella. Am I wearing a bathing suit this year or should I go with my Dickie&#39;s jumpsuit?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And so on.&lt;br /&gt;
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This goes on pretty much right up until we&#39;ve got the car packed. The girls, just giddy with excitement, have forgotten how LONG they perceive the ride to be. We will all be reminded of that in a short while. Someone will have to pee on the ride down. I will, for sure due to the previously guzzled six cups of coffee, but I&#39;ll keep it to myself until we get there. The bathroom is always a fun treat. Daisy touches every single disgusting surface possible and somehow always manages to put her bare ass on each restroom floor that we encounter. Scarlett remains horrified by hand driers so she just bolts the second she shuts the faucet - regardless of who is indisposed. I&#39;m still slightly sketched out by the giant hole toilet but that&#39;s a story for another day.&lt;br /&gt;
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We manage to make our way to the sand - Gregg doing the majority of the lugging but my shoulders are heavy with bags. I always picture John Candy in &lt;i&gt;Summer Rental&lt;/i&gt; as we are navigating that beach. Clumsily maneuvering our way around colored sheets and sandcastles. No matter how early we leave the house we are always disappointed by the number of beachgoers who&#39;ve scored the best spots. Because I&#39;ve done my homework I know what that tide is up to so we choose an appropriate place to plop. Umbrella in. Blankets down. Chairs positioned. We did it!&lt;br /&gt;
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Now, the amazingly peaceful and glorious beach days of my youth are so far in that rearview mirror I can hardly smell the Coppertone anymore. When you bring two little girls to the beach you&#39;re not sitting in that little sand chair. Not for ten seconds. Surprisingly BOTH girls love to be in the water. They really don&#39;t agree on anything so this is pretty amazing. Neither know how to swim so they require an adult at all times. I do remember that as a kid, you couldn&#39;t get me out of that water. The &quot;wait thirty minutes after you eat&quot; rule was such torture. I would swim and flip and play in those waves for hours at a time. LOVED the ocean. Now? I&#39;d rather not go thigh deep. The idea of creatures in the sand, pinching and squirming. Nasty seaweed. The possibility of those gross bugs that cling to your skin. And now that we know that the shark population is growing in these parts (YAY!) I&#39;ll just enjoy those headlines from my living room chair. I love me a shark but would lose my shit if I saw a fin within a mile of my sea-covered shins. Clutching the hand of a daughter I wade uncomfortably trying not to let on that I&#39;d rather be back at the blanket. &lt;i&gt;Thank God they&#39;re still small so we can&#39;t go any deeper. &lt;/i&gt;The squeals of joy from the girls are hands down the best part of the day. Well, that and the grapes. I&#39;m always so glad I remember to bring grapes. We let the girls splash and play for a bit then try to coax them into making sandcastles so we could possibly sit for a few minutes. That only lasts a minute or two before they realized they&#39;ve been duped and the water is where its at. Drat.&lt;br /&gt;
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We spend a few hours that way. Splashing, snacking, swatting horseflies, hitting the restroom etc. Daisy is usually the one to crack first. She starts to let us know in some super fun ways that she is done for the day and we start the joyous task of packing it alllll back up. &lt;i&gt;Why do we even take sand toys? They literally only used one bucket and one cup. Remember this for next year. &lt;/i&gt;The chairs are harder to close up, the umbrella doesn&#39;t fit back into the cart, wet towels are heavier, sand has grown hotter. The walk back to the car is a real blast. &lt;i&gt;My feet are burning!!! How far is the car?? This is a long walk!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Can we get Brickley&#39;s? Pleeeeeeease? I&#39;m so hungryyyyyy. &lt;/i&gt;Repeated by the two little ones about seventy thousand times. We find the car, shake out our blankets and do our best to dust off the kids before locking and loading them. We ultimately drive to the Brickley&#39;s lot which we had planned to do all along but were soured on the idea after all of the &quot;requests.&quot; The post ice-cream ride is far worse. Both girls reeeeeeally need a nap but refuse to close an eye. &lt;i&gt;How come the sun is always on MY side??? I&#39;m hottttttttt. I don&#39;t want to take a shower. Can we get Del&#39;s? Why are we stopped?? What are we having for dinner? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
Ahhhh. Home at last. Time to rela... wait, nope. Not yet! Let&#39;s first unpack alllll of the sand covered crap, let&#39;s clean out the cooler and toss that moist, disgusting trash, let&#39;s bathe the two crankiest children on the planet, let&#39;s start a load of laundry, let&#39;s finally get ourselves cleaned up. NOW it&#39;s time to rela... &quot;I&#39;m HUNGRY!!!!!!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Son of a.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s the &#39;beach day&#39; we&#39;ve had in past years. There was no frisbee tossing. &lt;i&gt;Do people even do that anymore? Or is that from some random &#39;80s Tom Cruise movie? &lt;/i&gt;There was no watermelon wedge. There certainly wasn&#39;t a movie night because our kids don&#39;t like to watch movies and because bedtime could not have come any sooner. Hey, we tried. We got the ice cream and we had some gleeful splashing. I&#39;m not about to do the fractions on that but I guess it was pretty decent after all. Any day now the pleas for a beach day will ring throughout the house. I should probably dust off that bucket and cup.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/3320616403435056075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2019/06/ahhhhh-summertime-once-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/3320616403435056075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/3320616403435056075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2019/06/ahhhhh-summertime-once-again.html' title='Ahhhhh, summertime once again... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-2089360111344500710</id><published>2019-03-05T11:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2019-03-05T11:08:05.111-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="4 year old"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="creativity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hobbies"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="interruptions"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stay at home mom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing"/><title type='text'>Interruptions well worth it </title><content type='html'>I&#39;m having a moment, and I have these often, where I just feel like I absolutely must write something but once I sit down in front of my keyboard my eyes look far past the screen into the deep corners of my brain and I unconsciously travel to a thought in which...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Never mind. Daisy just entered the room and asked me thirteen times, &quot;what is the wish that you choose... and what are those? What are those two things? What are those two pink things up there? On that shelf, Mommy. When you get up you can see them.&quot; (She&#39;s referring to two wrapped birthday gifts that are not for her). Sigh. I love her dearly and all of her daylong chatter and her bright questions and adorable little face and the sixteen games of Hello Kitty UNO we just played but man alive, can I get ten minutes? Can I get five?? Shoot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is inevitably what happens every time I start a new blog post. Which is why you see my posts maybe twice per year. There was a time when I would write daily. And it meant a lot to me to do so. Whether in blog form or journal. Now I&#39;m best on a post-it-note. Something like this:&lt;br /&gt;
Rummy - vet&lt;br /&gt;
Glasses&lt;br /&gt;
Bedding.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gives you chills, doesn&#39;t it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, hey, we can&#39;t hold on to our hobbies and favorite pastimes forever, right? At least not during the first, say, six years of your child&#39;s life anyhow. You may be wondering why I don&#39;t just plop down and write after the kids go to bed at night. That&#39;s a good thought. But that isn&#39;t my creative time anymore. That&#39;s the time when I need things to entertain me because I&#39;ve been sapped of all creative power since about 7 pm. So reruns of The Golden Girls coupled with a few pages of a Mindy Kaling book and I&#39;m happy as a clam... until I fall asleep mid-enjoyment thus ruining my &quot;me-time&quot; (and I absolutely despise that term by the way but that&#39;s neither here nor there).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I want to take my belt off but I can&#39;t!!!!!!!.... Oh, never mind, Mommy. You can wear this belt... cuz I don&#39;t want to wear it..... It looks like a necklace.&quot; {Places the &quot;necklace belt&quot; right on top of my mouse}.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back to my nonsensical train of thought. Where wasn&#39;t I? ...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Mommy, when I hold my eye with a hand it only leaves one eye open! Wanna see me do it? And it goes back up again!!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love her. Daisy is just amazing. She&#39;s the sweetest, most thoughtful and caring and selfless child. Her heart impresses me. Truly. She&#39;s currently learning to read and she&#39;s doing really well. It makes her so proud, she smiles the whole time. Watching her sound out those words are some of the best moments of each day. Her will is super strong. Which is incredibly challenging most times but comes in handy a lot too. It has been a true pleasure to be home with her these past few years. She will be starting school in the Fall and she&#39;s SO excited about it. I hope it&#39;s everything she hopes for.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, if you&#39;ll excuse me I have an UNO rematch to attend with my little charmer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Alexa, play 70&#39;s rock.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/2089360111344500710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2019/03/interruptions-well-worth-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2089360111344500710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2089360111344500710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2019/03/interruptions-well-worth-it.html' title='Interruptions well worth it '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-1887604420800030166</id><published>2018-11-27T18:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2018-11-27T18:27:47.451-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmastime"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Holiday specials"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><title type='text'>Grinches. The lot of them. </title><content type='html'>I just challenged myself to write a blog post within fifteen minutes. I don&#39;t have a topic so let&#39;s go withhhhhhhhh....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Why the hell won&#39;t you just watch The GRINCH?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Alright so anyone who knows me knows that I love Christmastime. I start listening to Bing Crosby while putting together Halloween costumes. I stalk the aisles of the stores for the first sign of a wonky, red bow or those chocolate covered cherries that I only really notice during the holiday season. &lt;i&gt;Do they really sell them year round?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;I begin tucking away ideas for what I want to put on the mantle or the dining room table. I search &quot;retro Christmas&quot; on Pinterest just because it makes me incredibly happy to see the results. I make lists of possible gift ideas, I DVR forty thousand Hallmark Christmas movies (which I later narrow WAY down because I typically despise the cast within the first ten seconds) and I peruse the lovely internet for the girls&#39; holiday dresses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The BEST time of the year, gang.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, why am I not sitting by the fire with my family sipping hot chocolate and watching Frosty, you ask? &amp;nbsp;Well, because my children seem to boycott all things Christmas except when it comes to curating their list for Santa. MmmHmm. &quot;Ughhh, Christmas music againnnnn?&quot; Um. YEAH. For certain. Yes. It is nearly DECEMBER. You bet your boots you&#39;re going to hear some Perry Como while I do the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You know what we&#39;re doing tomorrow?.... Decorating for Christmas!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;UGHHHHH, Mommyyyy, enough with Christmas!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um. Excuse me? What child doesn&#39;t want to see festive little trees and Santas strewn about their living room? We have frigging sleigh bells hanging up for crying out loud. I don&#39;t get it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I only have three minutes to wrap this up and meet my challenge so let me just end with this tale...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just about every night I ask the girls if they will watch a &quot;holiday special&quot; with me. And every night the answer is a thundering NO. No Rudolph. No Frosty. No Grinch. No Garfield. (That&#39;s right, I took you way back). I don&#39;t know why they refuse so much. My best guess is that because we live in the age of digital tv and DVRs - nothing is actually &quot;special&quot; because they can watch whatever they want whenever they want. They have twelve shows that they adore and all of them have their own holiday episodes. Not like when I was young and if you missed Rudolph you would have to wait a full year to catch that special again. And you were bummmmmmmed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The times they have a&#39;changed. So help me, God, these kids will enjoy my favorites with a smile across their face by the time I&#39;m through, I just need some Christmas magic. *wink.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Crap. I blew the challenge.&lt;br /&gt;
HA! xo</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/1887604420800030166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2018/11/grinches-lot-of-them.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/1887604420800030166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/1887604420800030166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2018/11/grinches-lot-of-them.html' title='Grinches. The lot of them. '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-4863349071166650935</id><published>2018-01-01T07:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2018-01-01T07:36:20.516-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="age 3"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="age 6"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="end of year"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="end of year questionnaire"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happy new year"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="owls"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Q&amp;A"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="questions and answers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="questions for kids"/><title type='text'>End of year questionnaire for the kids... </title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;
Happy New Year, friends! I wish you all good health, happiness and wealth in 2018! CHEERS!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
At the end of each year I like to do a questionnaire with the girls just for fun. I love hearing their answers each year and looking back on their old ones that I&#39;ve filed away.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Feel free to ask your children and share!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Here are some Q&#39;s &amp;amp; A&#39;s from 2017 ...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;u&gt;SCARLETT: Age 6&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Where is the most wonderful place you&#39;ve ever been?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Maggie&#39;s house&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What are you good at?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Drawing pictures&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I like your clothes. Or outfit today. Or hairstyle.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What are you most proud of?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
How much I can read&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What do you want to be when you grow up?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
An artist&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What makes you cry?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When Daisy hits me&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What are you scared of?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Nothing&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite song?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Shape of You, Castle on the Hill&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is a friend?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A person that you love a lot and play with. A brother or sister&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite memory?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When me, Ava and Maggie made jewelry boxes&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Who is your best friend?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Maggie &amp;amp; Ava&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite thing to do with your family?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Make a gingerbread house, bake cookies, decorate the Christmas tree&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What&#39;s the best thing about being a kid?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Playing with toys, no washing dishes or cleaning&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What makes you happy when you&#39;re sad?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When a friend comes to play with me&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What&#39;s the greatest thing ever invented?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Shopkins toys&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite word and why?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Gems. Jewelry. Crystals - because I love them&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If you were in a band what instrument would you play?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Drums&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What three words would you use to describe your family?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Loving, happy, fun&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is something you&#39;d like to learn how to do?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Make jewelry&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is the hardest thing you&#39;ve ever had to do?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Color a reallllllly big paper at school&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;u&gt;Favorites:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Book: Shopkins Collector&#39;s Guide&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
TV Show: The Pioneer Woman&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Movie: The Polar Express&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Place: GeeGee&#39;s house&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Foods: Pizza, strawberries, apples, ice cream, tacos, soup, pancakes, cookies&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thing to do with Daisy: play games&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thing to do with Daddy: treasure hunting&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thing to do with Mommy: bake cookies&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Season: Summer and Winter&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Day of the year: Christmas Day&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thing about school: When there&#39;s different teachers on lunch duty&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Animal: kitty&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Piece of clothing: sparkly blue kitty shirt&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Shoes: light-up hi-tops&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;u&gt;DAISY: Age - alllllllmost 3&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Where is the most wonderful place you&#39;ve ever been?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
GeeGee&#39;s house&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What are you good at?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Tricks. I love owls&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thank you&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What are you most proud of?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Hug Scarlett&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What do you want to be when you grow up?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
An artist/painter&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What makes you cry?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When Scarlett hits me&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What are you scared of?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The witch with Sid Fishy from Bubble Guppies&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite song?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Shape of You, There&#39;s Nothing Holding Me Back&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is a friend?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Snowy Owl&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite memory?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Painting&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Who is your best friend?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Owen the owl&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite thing to do with your family?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Crafts&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What&#39;s the best thing about being a kid?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Playing&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What makes you happy when you&#39;re sad?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Scarlett playing with me&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What&#39;s the greatest thing ever invented?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Owls&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is your favorite word and why?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Owls. They are cute&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If you were in a band what instrument would you play?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Drums because they are loud&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What is something you&#39;d like to learn how to do?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Color on paper - not on the table, not on the place mat&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If you had to give away all of your toys but one, which would you keep?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Minnie ball. Owls&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;u&gt;Favorites:&lt;/u&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Book: Little Owl&#39;s Night&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
TV Show: Bubble Guppies&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Movie: Mickey&#39;s Once Upon a Christmas&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Place: Store&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Foods: Soup, pizza, PB &amp;amp; J&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thing to do with Scarlett: Paint&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thing to do with Daddy: Put googly eyes on&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thing to do with Mommy: Paint&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Season: Summer and Winter&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Day of the year: Christmas&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Animal: Owl&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Piece of clothing: Owl clothes&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Shoes: Shopkins shoes, owl boots&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Can anyone guess what theme Daisy&#39;s birthday party will be? Hahaha&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/4863349071166650935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2018/01/end-of-year-questionnaire-for-kids.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/4863349071166650935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/4863349071166650935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2018/01/end-of-year-questionnaire-for-kids.html' title='End of year questionnaire for the kids... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-2876417630128940432</id><published>2017-11-26T18:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2017-11-26T18:23:45.718-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chemical makeup"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="good hearts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom guilt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="our traits"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="our wiring"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="overthinking"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="raising children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="teach your children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="worrying"/><title type='text'>Despite our wiring... </title><content type='html'>I was at Scarlett&#39;s friend&#39;s birthday party today and, without Daisy there to keep me running and worrying, I was free to think about random nonsense for a little while. I stood, arms folded, just watching calmly. Scarlett was off bouncing with her friends and I was chatting with other parents who had a bit of freedom themselves. We started discussing how certain things in our lives have changed since having children. Mainly the stress level, the worry factor and the seemingly endless guilt. But also how we try so hard to teach our kids how to be wonderful people... despite their wiring. I know I&#39;m still trying to be a wonderful person despite MY wiring. I&#39;m as stubborn as they come, I hold grudges, I worry about ridiculous things and I over-think overthinking. It&#39;s just who I am, love it or leave it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will dissect a situation that is months away, study its pieces, agonize over the unchangeable, glue the pieces back into a ball of stress, occasionally chip tiny bits from it whilst trying to fall asleep one night only to inevitably arrive at said situation and have the most pleasantly carefree time ever. All unnecessary pre-worry. And when someone tells me, &quot;Don&#39;t worry about it, you can&#39;t change it, it is what it is, leave it at that&quot; it actually makes me defiantly-worry. Like I&#39;m going to get some sort of satisfaction by showing you that I &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt; worry and it&#39;ll be for a good reason. Complete loon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As for the guilt thing, I don&#39;t know how it happened but shortly after Scarlett was born I just gained a new feeling. Aside from the C-section numbness in my gut I had this lovely pool of guilt that took up space in my brain... or is it in my heart? Tough to tell. I am forever questioning myself. Even with something as magical as Christmastime! I move that damned elf every night to see the awe and wonder in the eyes of my girls each morning and then feel that PIT of guilt because I&#39;m being sneaky and &quot;tricking&quot; them. I felt guilty writing that sentence. It never ends! Guilt for not putting Scarlett in her dance class holiday showcase. Guilt for not letting her go to every birthday party she is invited to. Guilt for not taking her to ride her bike much. Guilt for sending cereal for most of her school lunches. Guilt for buying her the greek yogurt with added sugar. Guilt for not having many new things for Daisy and relying mostly on her big sister&#39;s hand-me-downs. Guilt for not having a big birthday party at our home for Daisy because it is in January unlike Scarlett&#39;s usual backyard bash in September. Guilt for putting Daisy down for a nap early sometimes because I just need a break. Guilt for not forcing the girls to eat more vegetables and serving lots of eggs and pancake dinners. BLAH!! I&#39;m not having it. If only some &amp;nbsp;feelings had off switches.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know I&#39;m not really doing anything wrong. I know it&#39;s my wiring. I know I&#39;m giving my one thousand percent every single day for these kids. I try as hard as I possibly can to mold the girls into caring, respectful, well-rounded, well-read people. I worry, I stress, I make pancakes. But I also spend time reading with them every single night. I draw and color with them at our table. I play silly games and make up crafts and answer as many questions as my brain will allow. I teach them about kindness and being grateful and about traditions. I discuss anti-bullying and inclusion on a regular basis. I tell them nobody is perfect and we can&#39;t help but to feel what we feel. I do my best. I hope for them to do their best. Despite our wiring our hearts are good. And we continue to walk our path...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/2876417630128940432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/11/despite-our-wiring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2876417630128940432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2876417630128940432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/11/despite-our-wiring.html' title='Despite our wiring... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-8037160868847426319</id><published>2017-11-20T18:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2017-11-20T18:26:31.783-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="my kids are wild"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="raising children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stubborn kids"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the defiant child"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="this is 40"/><title type='text'>The madhouse..</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m currently listening to the sound of my washing machine swishing soapy water around the filthy straps that came out of the high chair just moments ago. I&#39;m simultaneously pondering when the hell I will be able to put away that high chair for good. I mean Daisy is going to be THREE in January. If you try her in a booster seat with no belt she just flat out will not sit still. She gets up and down thirty-nine times while eating a grilled cheese sandwich. I gave it three days last month. Tried it out. She&#39;s the kid that just does not listen. I don&#39;t mean like, &lt;i&gt;Ohhhh she&#39;s so stubborn she just likes to do things her way. &lt;/i&gt;I mean like SHE DOES NOT LISTEN. This kid is the definition of defiant. She has been raking her fingers over the television screen for a solid year now. She has been throwing her dish and cup across the table (or the room) when she&#39;s finished with every meal and wants the world to know it. She takes sips of milk or water and spits them out into her bowl and makes &quot;potions.&quot; The word NO means absolutely nothing to her. She jumps off the couch. She goes near the stove. She touches everything you tell her not to touch because it&#39;s super hot and then announces, &quot;that&#39;s hot.&quot; She constantly pulls away when you hold her hand and you end up hauling her thirty-five pound ass all over town. This child is adorable and sweet and thoughtful and truly caring but she is a MENACE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t help but wonder how the ol&#39; living room Christmas tree scenario is going to play out. &quot;Daisy, don&#39;t touch the ornaments!&quot; Crash. Smash. Glass. Tears. Blood.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The funny thing is that we thought LAST YEAR was something to worry about! She wasn&#39;t even two yet and while we still did plenty of guiding her away from things and giving her the low down on what&#39;s acceptable and what&#39;s non negotiable she&#39;s completely upped the anti this past year. Every so often Gregg and I will look at each other and say, &quot;I cannot believe she is STILL doing this!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You can imagine how fun it is when you throw Scarlett into the equation. &quot;NO DAISY!!!!&quot; is on repeat. Scarlett is a bit short in the patience department to begin with so we have a blast most days. I can honestly admit that during the hours of 5:30 pm and 7:00 pm we completely lose our minds, pray loudly for bedtime and come dangerously close to just walking out of this madhouse leaving them to fend for themselves. On a regular basis. It leaves me wondering what life is like in friends&#39; houses. Do they go through the wild animal hours every night? Is everyone with children on the brink of insanity ninety percent of the time? Does your six year old scream at the top of her lungs that your youngest just threw up all over the place and is about to step in it so you go rushing up the stairs because your husband is in the bathroom and you find two tiny dots of puke that only came out because your little one got worked up after the six year old accidentally kicked her in the head? No? Just me? Eyeroll.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s not very easy, is it? These wacky kids with their crazy ages and stages. It doesn&#39;t actually get any easier I hear, it just changes and we change. I&#39;ve changed an alarming amount since having these two maniacs - definitely for the better - but I&#39;m left wondering just how much more change do I have on the horizon? If this is 40... what will 50 bring?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/8037160868847426319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-madhouse.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/8037160868847426319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/8037160868847426319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-madhouse.html' title='The madhouse..'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-575657052196373155</id><published>2017-08-21T18:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2017-08-21T18:17:49.785-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="finding joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><title type='text'>Please tell me your children are wild ... </title><content type='html'>Okay, just tell me what I need to hear.&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me that your kids are absolute loons.&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me that nobody listens to you the first six times you tell them to do something.&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me that you still get called up every night an hour after bedtime for ridiculous things like, &quot;I heard a noise that sounded like a car&quot; or &quot;I dropped my bookmark.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
That they scream both gleefully and frighteningly for the majority of your day.&lt;br /&gt;
That you&#39;re never quite sure if someone has broken a bone or snatched a toy based on each scream.&lt;br /&gt;
Please tell me that your child wears a very hot and uncomfortable gown to bed even after the ninety-seventh time you&#39;ve explained that it&#39;s the very reason why she&#39;s sweaty every night.&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me that she refuses to believe you but begs to have her hair put up, her fan turned higher and her cool mist humidifier blowing directly at her head.&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me that no matter what cup you give your two and a half year old they choose to drop it on the floor, stuff food into its straw and figure out how to shake water from it at every single meal time.&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me they also take mouthfuls of said water and spit it into their dish repeatedly.&lt;br /&gt;
That your almost six year old child has started stomping when she doesn&#39;t get her way. Stomping. Like that classic image of a spoiled brat we&#39;ve all come to know and loathe.&lt;br /&gt;
That she&#39;s also started a new form of whining that is ten thousand percent unacceptable.&lt;br /&gt;
That you were certain your second child would potty train early and now you realize that she&#39;s been using the toilet seventy percent of the time for eight months with no further signs of readiness and that it&#39;s most likely your fault because you simply haven&#39;t put enough effort into it.&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me that watching your child play with others is sometimes excruciating.&lt;br /&gt;
That you constantly sit back and think, &lt;i&gt;Didn&#39;t I teach her better than that?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
That you always thought you could control all of those things when you became a parent one day. That you now realize you can&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
That you have vodka.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seas can be a bit stormy sometimes. We go through intermittent swells of horror that dissipate into lulls of wonderfulness. The next time the little ones are pissing each other off I have to reach back in my memory for the image of what their faces looked like when they rode their favorite ride together at the fair last week. Because that minute was one of the best minutes I&#39;ve ever experienced as a parent. Total joy. And joy is something we strive to find daily when really it should be the biggest part of our day every day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So for all of the crazy, unpleasant moments that seem to multiply and sometimes never end - I wish you more joy-filled moments. Ones that you can brand into your memory to pull out when you are just a millisecond away from losing your shit. Again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/575657052196373155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/08/please-tell-me-your-children-are-wild.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/575657052196373155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/575657052196373155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/08/please-tell-me-your-children-are-wild.html' title='Please tell me your children are wild ... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-7608147474789845401</id><published>2017-08-06T18:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2017-08-06T18:14:39.826-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="back to school"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sisters"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="summer"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="summer vacation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="times have changed"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yelling"/><title type='text'>Summer ... how times have changed</title><content type='html'>August, huh? The summer days are just flying on by, aren&#39;t they? I can&#39;t say I&#39;m sad about it. I&#39;m not a big fan. My days of peaceful beach outings are gone. My solo trips to the Beavertail cliffs with a towel, iPod and water bottle are a distant memory. Now a day at the shore requires a full staff just to carry the gear and another to tackle the kids. I might sit down just long enough to get shit on by a seagull. MIGHT. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I am enjoying certain elements of the summer. I keep reminding Scarlett of the importance of lazy mornings. Come September it&#39;s full time school for thirteen years. Oh, to think of the crusts I&#39;ll be cutting off. I&#39;ve made my school supplies lists and plan to finish that sooner than later. I don&#39;t want to be throwing punches over an eight pack of crayons while someone rips the Ticonderogas out of my cart. I&#39;m not one to shop in a crowd. Or to do much else in a crowd for that matter... I need my space. We went to Mystic Aquarium last week and I shuddered as I was touched by every elbow, diaper bag and plush squid. A Pearl Jam concert is pretty much the only acceptable crowd I&#39;ll be found in. I&#39;ll take a few drunkards scream-singing Rearviewmirror over a family of ten rushing the sting ray tank any day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My kids are driving me frigging crazy though. I&#39;m finally at that point where I &quot;get it&quot;. The glee that moms feel when the initial back-to-school ads are shown in like July. The parents cheering as the first day of school arrives, shoving their kid down the front steps, chucking their lunch bag through the bus window. I never understood it before and always kinda felt like it was harsh but now having gone through a collection of days where I literally yell for what feels like sixty seven hours straight I get it. When I look back on the former me I can&#39;t remember yelling more than a handful of times in my life. Aside from fights with my parents as a rude, inconsiderate teen - I don&#39;t think I ever yelled. I mean, what the hell would I yell about? If the post office was out of Charlie Brown stamps and I got stuck with the holiday birds? If my neighbor was blasting his shit music in the driveway for hours? If I was stuck in traffic on a bridge for two hours on a Friday evening? Nope. Not yelling over any of that jazz. Now? I steady yell. In fact, I think my regular speaking voice is actually a half yell now. My eyebrows are now stuck in permanent stern-face position. I begin yelling before 7:30 am. It doesn&#39;t end until 9 pm some days. It&#39;s exhausting being continuously pissed off. There are glorious moments in between where the girls are getting along nicely and actually playing together without bloodshed or when Daisy finally takes a good nap. When Scarlett is helpful and doesn&#39;t fight me on every single thing I tell her to do. Those moments are fleeting though. And my boiling point is quickly reached over and over again. It always works best if I separate the girls. They can be excellent when unhindered. Scarlett is too used to getting things her own way and Daisy is just trying to be two. The mix can be devastating. I force them together as much as possible to try to crack the code but sometimes it&#39;s best if I just put them in solitary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I look back on my summer vacations as a child and realize those were truly some of the best times of my life. Playing outside with friends from sunup to sundown. Eight hour days at the beach. Pool swimming followed by lazy cartoon-filled afternoons. Ahhhh... to be a kid again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now if you&#39;ll excuse me, I have to go rip a crocodile game out of my kid&#39;s hands. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/7608147474789845401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/08/summer-how-times-have-changed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7608147474789845401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/7608147474789845401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/08/summer-how-times-have-changed.html' title='Summer ... how times have changed'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-4249045604475350839</id><published>2017-07-24T10:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2017-07-24T10:50:54.395-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="body conscious"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="body image"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="clean eating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GetRealGal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="getting fit"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health and wellness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="overthinking"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self conscious"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self loathing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weight loss"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="well being"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wellness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="What not to Wear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="worry wart"/><title type='text'>My lunacy and my wellness...</title><content type='html'>It is no secret to those who know me that I have never really been very comfortable in my own skin. I&#39;ve gone through many, many stages in my life - much like everyone else - but that one thing has always been a constant. Be it among a group of close friends or a group of total strangers it seems I&#39;m forever agonizing over something in my mind while holding a conversation...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Is this shirt clinging to my rolls? Can you see the bra bulge from this angle? Should I sit instead of stand? Can they see my eyebrows sweating or is that just for me to enjoy? My skin looks dry, I should&#39;ve used a different lotion. Do I take my sunglasses off to seem more approachable? Why do I stand with my arms crossed?! Such a bully pose! Skinny jeans with these thighs - who do I think I am? Can I wear boots in May, is that weird? Why do I buy so many sleeveless tops? I shouldn&#39;t even be wearing them with these arms. I have carried the same bag for a solid year, people must think ...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Stop right there. &lt;i&gt;People must think... &lt;/i&gt;People must think WHAT??&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I am a lunatic in my mind. Sometimes the lunacy comes out of my mouth but believe it or not I keep it to myself about 92% of the time. When I actually stop to think about what I&#39;m obsessing/worrying about I quickly realize that NOBODY is thinking about any of this shit. Nobody is looking at my skin&#39;s moisture level. Not a single soul has noticed that I&#39;ve carried the same bag for more than twelve months. No one cares a lick if I wear sunglasses or not. Granted, there may be people that have &lt;i&gt;noticed&lt;/i&gt; my thick thighs, my un-toned arms and my springtime footwear choice BUT I am quite certain that after their glance they moved on with their life. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been this way since I was about nine. That is SUCH a long time to feel like crap about yourself. Don&#39;t get me wrong, I&#39;m not saying that I feel ugly and heinous all the time. I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT. I have moments where I feel comfortable/satisfactory. It is important to feel good in what I&#39;m wearing - if I can do that then my day is pretty easy. If I stray and try to wear something that isn&#39;t &quot;me&quot;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;that&#39;s where I get into trouble. I think some of that junk stems from my watching episodes of What Not To Wear. I realize that most of what I choose to wear is a no-no. But ya know what? I&#39;m a jeans and t-shirt kinda girl. Put me in a blouse and I want to light shit on fire. I can&#39;t conform. I don&#39;t want a sensible pant suit. I look like a dumpy snowman in sweaters, I prefer a sweatshirt. I own exactly one pair of &quot;pants&quot; and I&#39;ve never worn them. I&#39;m pretty sure I can get through the rest of my life wearing what I want rather than what style experts recommend for my &quot;type.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I lost forty pound about two years ago and I still wear oversized clothing. I think that&#39;s just so deeply rooted in me but I am working on moving forward. Moving out of my comfort zone is done at a baby snail&#39;s pace for certain. I want so badly for my outer appearance to reflect how fit and healthy I finally feel/AM. I&#39;ll admit that still looking &quot;out of shape&quot; makes me feel unhappy. I&#39;ve worked hard but I know I have to work harder. I&#39;ve recently started a new workout schedule and so far it&#39;s a winner. Seeing and feeling results right away makes it so much easier to keep putting in that work. I&#39;ve continued my clean eating lifestyle for nearly two years now. {Confession: I am addicted to gluten free pretzels but hey, we all have our vices. Wink.} &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m a work in progress but I can tell you that I&#39;ve never felt as good as I do now. I&#39;m forty. I WISH I felt this way at fifteen. Or twenty-five. Or thirty-two. It&#39;s all about your mindset. When you are truly ready to make that change you go hard. If any of you are feeling stuck in a rut, out of shape, out of breath, 
out of energy, out of options - please message me and I will let you 
know how you can take steps to change that. My girl, Joanna aka 
&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/groups/getrealgal/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;GetRealGal&lt;/a&gt;, can and will help you. I promise you it is easier than you 
think to make these changes. You start small and you win big. Working on your wellness is always worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/4249045604475350839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/07/my-lunacy-and-my-wellness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/4249045604475350839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/4249045604475350839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/07/my-lunacy-and-my-wellness.html' title='My lunacy and my wellness...'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-1085642370146754394</id><published>2017-07-13T18:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2017-07-13T18:15:11.361-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="getting older"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="responsible adult"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="skin care"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the times they are a changin&#39;"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="this is 40"/><title type='text'>Have I become a responsible adult? </title><content type='html'>The lines,&lt;br /&gt;
Settling all too comfily into their new habitat - my face.&lt;br /&gt;
Oh my God are my eyes actually getting SMALLER?&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s not even possible, is it?!&lt;br /&gt;
But in every picture...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ll try this cream.&lt;br /&gt;
Hmm, should I have had a skin care routine in my thirties?&lt;br /&gt;
Does everyone?&lt;br /&gt;
Does anyone?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Apparently Aveeno isn&#39;t cutting it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m drying out like a reed diffuser that you forgot you bought like four years ago&lt;br /&gt;
and found it stuck up on a high shelf one day while reaching for the heating pad. &lt;br /&gt;
There is no WAY Jenifer Aniston swears by this stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
Not falling for it, Jen. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I see the grays. Actually, let&#39;s not bullshit ourselves, they&#39;re whites.&lt;br /&gt;
Not many of them, but they&#39;re calling friends lately,&lt;br /&gt;
they&#39;re having more parties.&lt;br /&gt;
Good for them. I never have parties anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
Who feels like it?! I clean the bathroom enough.&lt;br /&gt;
Too much pressure.&lt;br /&gt;
I used to put out a spread at parties.&lt;br /&gt;
Today, you come by, you&#39;re lucky to find a few pieces of cheddar.&lt;br /&gt;
And gluten free pretzels.&lt;br /&gt;
Rock star status.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Night life.&lt;br /&gt;
Ahhhh, I remember the all-nighters.&lt;br /&gt;
Home by 4 am was rare.&lt;br /&gt;
No matter the day of the week. &lt;br /&gt;
Never stayed home.&lt;br /&gt;
Now, when I have night time plans I actually look at my bed differently that morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I&#39;ll be late tonight, bed... but I&#39;ll return. And we&#39;ll make up for lost time tomorrow... and the next eight nights. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I spent some great times with my best girls these past two weeks and we were talking about how times have changed.&lt;br /&gt;
We used to go out drinking for hours on end, not a glass of water in sight - for DAYS. I drank lemonade and coffee as my non-alcoholic beverages at one point. Now we panic if we don&#39;t chase our gray goose with a bottle of Poland Spring. Gotta keep hydrated!&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I used to loathe &lt;i&gt;Everybody Loves Raymond.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I think it made me feel like I was still young and hip.&lt;br /&gt;
(Let the record show that I was never hip)&lt;br /&gt;
Now I can&#39;t get enough of that frigging show.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I used to wear heels all the time.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;d be that idiot in the backyard with heels on - trying to get through the grass or gravel without landing on my nose.&lt;br /&gt;
Everrrrrrrrryone else in sneakers or flip flops having a blast.&lt;br /&gt;
Not me! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Can&#39;t let on that I&#39;m 5&#39;1&quot; - This&#39;ll fool them!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Nowadays I actually own &quot;sensible shoes&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
And a rain coat.&lt;br /&gt;
A RAIN COAT.&lt;br /&gt;
For a gal who lived in &quot;just a hoodie&quot; for all-weather, all four seasons in New England&lt;br /&gt;
a rain coat is pretty huge.&lt;br /&gt;
I have a real, live winter coat as well.&lt;br /&gt;
This news is a bit lackluster for you all but listen - I didn&#39;t even OWN a coat or jacket of any kind&lt;br /&gt;
for at least a thirteen or fourteen year stretch. No lie.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Am I really considered a responsible adult now?&lt;br /&gt;
Skin care, outerwear, pretzels.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I mean, I am doing a pretty great job raising two little girls.&lt;br /&gt;
I RSVP to everything on time - or at least I think I do or intend to.&lt;br /&gt;
I sometimes read the AAA paper that comes in the mail,&lt;br /&gt;
that has to count for something.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Don&#39;t get me wrong, I still enjoy fun.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve just become a bit less fun myself.&lt;br /&gt;
Becoming a mother has done that -&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m fun on a kid level now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Crayons and dress-up&lt;/i&gt; fun. &lt;br /&gt;
Not so much &lt;i&gt;wandering the streets of Providence at 4 am with no ride home&lt;/i&gt; fun.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In my opinion, I&#39;ve traded up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now about that skin care ... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/1085642370146754394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/07/have-i-become-responsible-adult.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/1085642370146754394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/1085642370146754394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/07/have-i-become-responsible-adult.html' title='Have I become a responsible adult? '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-5278202631844511479</id><published>2017-06-24T21:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2017-06-24T21:01:27.922-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="finding the balance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><title type='text'>In the quicksand ...</title><content type='html'>Well, well, well. Here I sit. Back in a very familiar position, though the view has changed some.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The last time I wrote was exactly one month before Daisy was born. After her entrance I made an easy decision to press pause on my blogging. I don&#39;t know exactly why. Focus, probably. I felt like I needed every ounce of energy to balance spending quality time with Scarlett while being completely consumed by a newborn. I&#39;m still trying to figure out my balancing act.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When Daisy came into our world we were elated, just the same as we were with Scarlett. Unsure of how the dynamic would change and how we would all adjust, we welcomed her home excitedly. From the day we learned we were having another girl I can&#39;t even tell you how happy my heart felt. TWO GIRLS. SISTERS! Sundresses and sandals. Pastel-colored bedrooms! Best friends forever. My mind was always busy with visions of twirling little silly-hearts cartwheeling their way through life together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s been very sweet but maybe slightly less poetic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Most days I look like a dumb octopus cartoon. One &quot;arm&quot; washing dishes, one swiffering the endless dog hair tumbleweeds, one cutting off the crusts, one folding leggings, one paying bills - while another uses a calculator because I still detest numbers and math of any kind, one changing a diaper because I haven&#39;t quite figured out how to fully potty train my kid yet and that last one is either filling out paperwork, mailing out a greeting card, writing a shopping list or calling a company regarding something heinous. My mind is absolutely flooded with notes. I leap out of bed at all hours with a startling reminder that has to be written down at that very moment. My counter space which houses my calendar, notepads, mail and various to-do&#39;s is overflowing. &lt;i&gt;Did I RSVP? Are we going to that party? Did I mail her birthday card? Bake sale. Fundraiser. When does the car need to be inspected? What time is Daisy&#39;s appointment? Summer dance card. Swimming lessons? Coupon expires tomorrow. Where the hell is my state tax refund?! School uniforms. &lt;/i&gt;It is never-ending. And I have two children. Some of you have three, four or five. To which I say, &quot;&lt;i&gt;HOW?!&quot; &lt;/i&gt;I remain one of the most organized and efficient people that I know and I am sinking like a gummy vitamin in a glass of milk. Oh, Scarlett might be the only one that does that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m not sure if it&#39;s a &quot;turning forty&quot; thing. Maybe it is. Maybe brain power is sucked away by each child that you carry and come forty the power that IS left is cut in half. I had an idea for a Mother&#39;s Day gift for my grandmother the other day and got all excited and was going to get it ready until I realized that Mother&#39;s Day was over a month ago. Not next week. And I&#39;ve already forgotten the idea. I never have any clue what day of the week it is. Gregg&#39;s rotating schedule keeps it interesting. Most days go like this, &quot;Oh hey, Sheri, how did you manage to get to Target without the kids this morning?&quot; My reply, &quot;Oh, Gregg usually has Tuesday mornings off.&quot; After an awkward look and pause, &quot;Today is Friday.&quot; ............. Eyeroll.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is what it is, though, right? I mean, who the hell can really balance it all? Who has everything in line, always? Maybe Scarlett&#39;s dance teacher. Yeah, she&#39;s impressive. She&#39;s superhuman. But aside from her I don&#39;t think I know anyone who doesn&#39;t feel like they are swimming in chaos. I always find myself saying, &lt;i&gt;And I don&#39;t even WORK right now! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;Like, I can&#39;t give myself a break because I don&#39;t technically clock in at a job each day. I look at working parents and admire the hell out of them. I can&#39;t get everything done and I&#39;m home 75% of the time. How can it be done in less than half of that? On the other hand, I realize that I am with these children and this dog for eighty-nine hours a day. I get about twenty minutes to myself to chug my hot coffee at 6 am and then after the kids go to bed the night is finally mine ... I am asleep by 10:30 most nights. I&#39;m actually cutting into that highly coveted time right this very second so let me go fill my burning eyes with drops, play Words With Friends, slug this last glass of water and maybe watch some Jaws.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cheers to all who are in the quicksand with me! xoxo</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/5278202631844511479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/06/in-quicksand.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/5278202631844511479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/5278202631844511479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2017/06/in-quicksand.html' title='In the quicksand ...'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-3357759329944766374</id><published>2014-12-08T15:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-12-08T15:22:09.805-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="35 weeks pregnant"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby number two"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby on the way"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hospital bag"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="preparing for baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="second pregnancy"/><title type='text'>It won&#39;t be long now ... </title><content type='html'>Sometimes, while sitting by the Christmas tree, I try to envision what our home is going to look like when we bring our newest little Leach into it. I look at the pictures on our wall and imagine rearranging them to make room for the face of a new family member. I see our classic &#39;family of three&#39; photos - where our heads fit nicely into the frame - and wonder how we will cram our fourth into them. In the brief and seldom quiet moments I cherish the sound of silence, or peaceful Christmas music, knowing that very soon there will be a new yet familiar buzz in these rooms. And I&#39;m excited. I&#39;m not ready, but I&#39;m excited.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With just four weeks to go I realize how many loose ends need to be tied up. When I was pregnant with Scarlett I was thorough in my preparations. There were outfits in my hospital bag, the baby&#39;s room was finished in its entirety months before the due date and the bottles were washed and ready to go. If you look in my hospital bag right now I have a t-shirt and slippers. I did buy some travel size items but everything else is going to be a last minute grab. Which, if you know me at all, will surely make me spin into a maniacal frenzy. I am the planner to end all planners. As organized as one can get. The idea that I&#39;ll be grabbing at least fifteen to twenty things just moments before heading to the hospital makes my pulse race. It&#39;s going to be like some terrifying game show. I also need to pack up Scarlett for her stay my mother&#39;s house. Gregg is busy making wooden wall art and figures for the baby&#39;s mobile which I need to get painted. I did wash all of the clothing, blankets, bibs, burp cloths and bedding. Bottles will be next. Car seats need to be ready to go - their pads need to be washed. The swing and Pack &#39;n&#39; Play need to be set up. I realize a lot of these things can be done after the baby comes but that&#39;s not how I roll. And throwing in Christmas shopping, decorating, cards, calendars, wrapping and festivities ?? I&#39;m a lunatic. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You think I&#39;m overreacting with a month to go? Well, my grandmother told me she has a feeling I&#39;m going to have this baby early - and that is ALL I needed to hear. For some reason, Gram is a little intuitive when it comes to my pregnancies. She even had a feeling I was pregnant before Gregg and I had told anyone, and it had just been one week since we&#39;d found out. So naturally I&#39;m terrified.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve been feeling pretty good though. I do get very tired from doing very little and am in bed by 9:30 every night. I like to get in there early and get two to three good hours of sleep upfront before usually tossing and turning for the remainder of the night. I have had this issue with both pregnancies where my heart begins to race and I become short of breath and need to change positions immediately before I pass out. It starts around four or five months and continues throughout. It happens while walking, lying down or sitting and it&#39;s been worse with this baby. I think it&#39;s her position and the position of my whacked out uterus pressing on a main artery blocking my blood flow. It kinda blows but it could be much, much worse! Scarlett sometimes mocks me huffing and puffing by the time I get to the top of the stairs to her bedroom. Kid&#39;s a wise ass. Other than those issues and my constant foggy state of stupidity everything is pretty good. The stupidity is cracking Gregg up. I&#39;ll share my most recent ridiculous example. I put on my iPod and was listening to some Christmas music with Scarlett and she said, &quot;We heard this song on the tv too!&quot; To which I replied, &quot;Yes! We did! And I think I may have it on my iPod too!&quot; Stunned silence from the crowd. Then Gregg let me know that it was my iPod playing and we laughed and laughed. Ugh. I&#39;m a complete moron these days. Jumbling up words and barely able to complete a sentence - I actually give up a lot of times midway through. Not worth the effort. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tonight we have Gregg&#39;s company Christmas party and it should be interesting wearing those heels one last time. So, think of me when you get comfy in your pajamas and slippers tonight. I will be tugging and shifting in my dress and tights while trying not to walk more than five paces at a time having jammed my Flintstone feet into ankle booties for the occasion. Oh well! &#39;Tis the season!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/3357759329944766374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/12/it-wont-be-long-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/3357759329944766374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/3357759329944766374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/12/it-wont-be-long-now.html' title='It won&#39;t be long now ... '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-4103985178163460239</id><published>2014-10-20T08:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2014-10-20T08:08:28.530-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby&#39;s room"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cool weather"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="creating a nursery"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="expanding our family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nursery"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scarlett"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seasons"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="second baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="second pregnancy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="third trimester"/><title type='text'>Fall, into the third trimester...</title><content type='html'>Let me start by saying, Hooorayyy for cooler temperatures! I am finally feeling the lovely, sweet relief that used to be brought by September and is now barely swept in by October. Time to start lighting my dozens of adorable Halloween candles without having to put the central air on. And, while this will quickly turn into a ho-hum challenge, I am enjoying the task of choosing a jacket, sweater or hoodie for Scarlett each morning. It really is the little things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Right around this time of year I start to get antsy for all things Christmas. I know! I KNOW! I wait all year long for Fall and am practically daydreaming it away when I see so much as a candy cane candle in the stores. Red and white and silver and green ... it&#39;s commmminnnnnng. Hee Hee! I just hope I&#39;m able to enjoy all of my favorite things as I always do ... while being nine months pregnant. Waddling around the tree farm will most likely result in a You Tube video.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m into my third trimester, folks. It may seem like it came quickly - and it sorta did once those pesky first fourteen weeks were behind me. I did regain my energy for the most part in the second trimester but lately am back to feeling tired and already getting uncomfortable. My belly now, at twenty-eight weeks, is comparable to my belly at thirty-six weeks with Scarlett. I&#39;m in good health, thank God, and just have minor complaints. Mostly, the numbness/tingling in my hands and arms, the four hour gaps in overnight sleep and the crazy heart-racing and shortness of breath when the baby is pressing on a main artery. I remember the same with Scarlett, I got way less sleep in the third trimester than I did once she was born. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had Scarlett in late September and wore flip flops throughout the entire pregnancy. It&#39;s a different ball game heading into the cold weather - I have just one option for footwear these days, a pair of brown boots. I can&#39;t squeeze into anything else, so any upcoming events require a trip to the shoe store. I have just two sweaters and one long sleeved shirt so you can get used to seeing them because I refuse to spend any more money on maternity clothes. (It&#39;s tough when your husband wears a size medium shirt).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m having fun these days working on the baby&#39;s room. Finally getting some ideas and it&#39;s starting to come together. I&#39;ve sorted through Scarlett&#39;s old clothes and, although the seasons are a little off, I think we&#39;ll have a pretty good head start. It&#39;s nice to see all of my old favorites that I&#39;d forgotten about. Even Scarlett is enjoying looking through her old shoes and things - I think she&#39;s getting excited! (I&#39;d be more excited if she slept more than nine or ten hours a day).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sure, I have moments where I think, &lt;i&gt;how the hell am I going to pull this off? Another child? A BABY?? That needs me constantly for at least two years?? The bottles?? The bibs and spit-up rags? The witching hour/s??? The teething?? The extra laundry?? The poop?? The &quot;Don&#39;t Touch That!!&quot; stage?? The extra gear?? Getting out of the house with two instead of one?? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then I think, &lt;i&gt;YEAH. I think I&#39;m ready for that, I can do it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We&#39;ve had our struggles and we&#39;ve waited a long time to create our family. I feel very, very blessed to be harboring another feisty little girl. I know it will be a challenge and I just hope I can keep my head about me, be as patient as possible and love my girls in every moment. As always I pray for a healthy full-term baby who is sure to become another beam of sunshine in our lives. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/4103985178163460239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/10/fall-into-third-trimester.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/4103985178163460239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/4103985178163460239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/10/fall-into-third-trimester.html' title='Fall, into the third trimester...'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-2712697478610283305</id><published>2014-10-06T15:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2014-10-06T15:10:37.104-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="age three"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scarlett"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tantrums"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="terrible threes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="terrible twos"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Scarlett Letters"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="toddler"/><title type='text'>age three is bullshit. </title><content type='html'>She&#39;s napping! She&#39;s napping!! She&#39;s napping!!!&lt;br /&gt;
(She hasn&#39;t napped in ages)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh thank God! If that child doesn&#39;t wake up with a more pleasant demeanor I probably won&#39;t make it to 8 pm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She has been soooo difficult lately. I choose the word &lt;i&gt;difficult &lt;/i&gt;because I don&#39;t want to call her names like &quot;witchy&quot; or &quot;heinous&quot;. Yes, she turned three at the end of September. Yes, I&#39;ve heard all about how age three is worse than two, (pretty much anytime I was venting about how tough she was at two. Thanks). But I mean, come ON. Everything is a fight! Every ridiculous teeny thing is a gigantic challenge. Right down to which stories we read at bedtime. I understand that she wants to control everything - as do I. I understand it&#39;s all about her growing and changing and developing her personality, blah blah blah. &lt;i&gt;Just cut the shit already, kid! And speaking of shit - use the damned toilet will ya? As my ever-expanding pregnant stomach presses harder against the changing table, your flailing arms and legs punch and kick just as hard. You&#39;re too big for that table! It&#39;s meant for dainty little pea pods not thirty-five pound, thirty-nine inch long children. I can barely hoist you up there, it&#39;s getting out of hand. And your diapers don&#39;t come any larger and if they DID I couldn&#39;t carry a box that large. Any WHY are you awake already!!??!?!?!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ugh. My joyous quiet time has ended. But first, a story before I go... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This morning I brought home some new pink cowboy boots for her. She immediately started to try them on. I saw her struggling so I let her know there is velcro that allows for easier access. She threw them across the room. She asked if they are rain boots. I replied that they are cowboy/girl boots. She said, &quot;Humph, well IIIIIIIIIIII wanted rain boots.&quot; Umm, no. First off,&lt;b&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRTkCHE1sS4&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Veruca&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, there was no mentioning of a new boot of any kind coming into this house today. I took it upon myself to purchase a product that I thought you would like as a kind surprise. You threw said product across the room. I gathered the friggin boots and put them away stating that I would give them to another girl who would love and be grateful for them. One hour later she put the boots on and paraded around in them happy as a clam.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And THAT, my friends, is age three... barely two weeks in. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/2712697478610283305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/10/age-three-is-bullshit.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2712697478610283305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/2712697478610283305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/10/age-three-is-bullshit.html' title='age three is bullshit. '/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5966388160429713259.post-1965008650533285407</id><published>2014-09-23T16:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2014-09-23T19:57:07.987-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="a letter to my daughter"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bedtime rituals"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family ties"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="peppa pig"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scarlett"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tantrums"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Scarlett Letters"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="third birthday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="three year old"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="toddler"/><title type='text'>The Scarlett Letters: The Third Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtq8N74azU7x9E54DAh2SENCIObUQDct4zFDdpUILIX1-o6up4t1hG_JsrsT-hoxLEt7YWn9IANMJCibMX6t_XPmfa70vSprQ92FKIojkIU46kK0YbYDjnb24Q5DqeEVmtH6uATdCSJz0/s1600/scarlett+3.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtq8N74azU7x9E54DAh2SENCIObUQDct4zFDdpUILIX1-o6up4t1hG_JsrsT-hoxLEt7YWn9IANMJCibMX6t_XPmfa70vSprQ92FKIojkIU46kK0YbYDjnb24Q5DqeEVmtH6uATdCSJz0/s1600/scarlett+3.jpg&quot; height=&quot;311&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
On September 24th you will officially be Three Years Old.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Man alive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It really is insane how quickly time passes when you&#39;re watching your baby grow up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This past year has been filled with some amazing moments... and some incredibly challenging ones. So, Scarlett, here is a glimpse of YOU becoming a three year old ...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. You love to play outside and get FILTHY. And I mean&amp;nbsp; F&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; L&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; T&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; H&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Y.&amp;nbsp; Like, &#39;dumping dirt over your head, scraping what&#39;s left of your fingernails deep into the earth, filling your shoes and socks with pebbles and sand&#39; filthy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. You&#39;re kinda fresh. You love the word, &quot;no&quot; and will use it as many times as you see fit. If I say something is black, it&#39;s white to you. You&#39;re stubborn as the day is long. Your mind is made up about everyyyyyyyyyyyyything and there&#39;s no changing it. You cannot be fooled. You cannot be bribed. You&#39;re a know-it-all. If I say, &quot;go put on your shoes&quot; you come back with, &quot;they&#39;re not shoes, they&#39;re sandals.&quot; Your personality is incredible. You&#39;re a funny little character. You always have people laughing... you&#39;re my little scamp.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. You watch a little too much Peppa Pig and may or may not be developing a British accent. You say things like, &quot;This is an ice-lolly&quot; when it&#39;s clearly a popsicle. You call a flashlight a torch and vacation a holiday. I&#39;m trying to rectify the situation but you just love that show. Meanwhile you&#39;re turning into a mini Madonna with that accent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. You repeat things that your pregnant mommy shouts in anger at the dog. Most begin with the letter F.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. Bedtime is a big ole game to you. As you settle into bed you love to have your routine which goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;
I grab a tissue and we blow the noses of five of your stuffed animals. I then kiss those animals. I kiss and hug you. We do Eskimo-noses. You ask me a question. You tell me a secret by whispering nothing and then I have to come up with some crazy statement that you may have used as a secret. Sometimes my statement is unacceptable. We do that about seven to ten times as I inch my way out the door trying to distract you with, &quot;ok, goodnight, love you&quot;s. IF you are satisfied with our ritual you will play with your little animal friends for about an hour to an hour and a half before falling asleep. If our routine was unsatisfactory you will cry, whine and scream for the same amount of time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
6. You still have your favorite foods: Peanut butter and jelly, scrambled eggs, fruit, yogurt, cereal and soup. You are branching out more by saying, &quot;surprise me!&quot; when asked what you&#39;d like for a meal. Chicken quesadillas are becoming a fast favorite.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
7. You absolutely LOVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVE kitties. All things kitty. Your hands are kitties at times. You meow all the time. You become a kitty when you&#39;re threatened (which by the way is going to get you nowhere).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
8. You get pissed. A lot. You&#39;re way of dealing with being frustrated is to cram your hand down your throat until you gag, blow your nose in your hand and bang your head on the floor. Daddy and I basically tell you how ridiculous you look and you get over it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
9. You love story time and are currently obsessed with The Little Critter Collection. I read all seven stories pretty much every night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
10. You are finally letting go and allowing yourself to be more silly. I used to call you &quot;Scarlett P. Keaton&quot; (remember Alex from Family Ties? Really showing my age here). You would never dance around with me or Daddy, you&#39;d look at us like we were nuts - kinda the same way an eighty-seven year old man might look at a saggy-jeaned wanna-be thug. Lately, however, you&#39;ve been dancing around with us - or by yourself, it&#39;s refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;
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You are really a delightful little girl, so very special to all who know you. Sure, you are very challenging, but I don&#39;t think there&#39;s a three year old out there who isn&#39;t. You are smart as a whip and funny as they come. We are really looking forward to seeing you slide into the &#39;big sister&#39; role.&lt;br /&gt;
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May God bless you, sweet Scarlett. Happy third birthday to you!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/feeds/1965008650533285407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/09/the-scarlett-letters-third-birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/1965008650533285407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5966388160429713259/posts/default/1965008650533285407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sheribobbins.blogspot.com/2014/09/the-scarlett-letters-third-birthday.html' title='The Scarlett Letters: The Third Birthday'/><author><name>sheri </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01762189718871197485</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpjFdoS8U1X_QhtvHKEbYKTotNnEvpGGTwflKPcxDZNUwxtZ4T9HhkNbH6whKlY8a8F3AWbjn9FoSoFIjTze-39VKNHfcuYzyD-wVVKzMoc2Z5HB0u0OWXzREo6n5rg/s220/blog+pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtq8N74azU7x9E54DAh2SENCIObUQDct4zFDdpUILIX1-o6up4t1hG_JsrsT-hoxLEt7YWn9IANMJCibMX6t_XPmfa70vSprQ92FKIojkIU46kK0YbYDjnb24Q5DqeEVmtH6uATdCSJz0/s72-c/scarlett+3.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>