<?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-1488127461080390395</id><updated>2024-10-04T19:04:17.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Groseclose Gang</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to The Groseclose Gang. The goal of this blog is to create a space for family and friends to see what we&#39;re up to...and to (hopefully) keep my brain from turning to complete mush as I embark on the strange new journey of stay-at-home Mommyhood.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488127461080390395.post-6330276960340766412</id><published>2012-05-10T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-10T15:06:06.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is There Life Out There?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;This morning
my mother-in-law came over to watch the kids so I could run a few errands in peace
and quiet. As I was driving along listening to the radio, an old song by Reba
McEntire came on. I started singing along and by the time I’d reached the
chorus, I was in tears. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Is there life out there?&lt;br /&gt;
So much she hasn’t done.&lt;br /&gt;
Is there life beyond her family and her home?&lt;br /&gt;
She’s done what she should, should she do what she dares?&lt;br /&gt;
She doesn’t want to leave she’s just wonderin’ is there life out there. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;In a
nutshell, it’s a song about a gal who married young and focused on raising her
family. As time marched on, she found herself wondering not only if she had
made the right choices in her life but also if perhaps there was something more
she was missing out on. Was it finally time for her to put everyone else’s
needs aside and start living up to her true potential? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;It’s hard to
put a finger on why this particular song struck such a chord with me. Part of
it is because being a stay-at-home mommy to my seven-month-old and two-year-old
is stressful. Part of it is probably because the baby still wakes up multiple
times a night and I’m sleep deprived. Part of it is likely due to the fact that
I went from being a writer/editor to a lady that spends hours at the park and
now knows several Nick Jr. cartoon theme songs and more nursery rhymes than
Mother Goose herself.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;And let’s face it,
hormones probably played a role as well. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Disclaimer:
I’m not complaining…at least I’m trying not to. I know how lucky I am to be
able to stay home with my kids and witness all of the milestones firsthand. And
there’s no one on the planet that I would rather have raising my children but
me.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;However, I do miss writing a great
story, coming up with a good, creative marketing piece, and interacting with business
professionals every once in a while.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;I often joke
with my mommy friends that my IQ has dropped several points since I stopped
working. But I have to remember that a Forest Gump-esque existence is not
without its own beauty. Kidding aside, I need to channel my creativity into
practical avenues. I can write blog posts or actually work on the children’s
books I’ve been thinking about putting together for the past few months. Bottom
line, I can still be a great mom to my kids AND use my brain. Who knew?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;In the
meantime, I need to remind myself that while yes, there is life out there full
of opportunities and great prospects, it will all be there waiting &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;for me when the kids get a little older and
don’t need me as much anymore.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Have I
reached my full potential? Not even close. But I still have time. And while I
may not be wearing my writing/editing/marketing/advertising hat now, I will don
it again one day soon. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Being a mom
has given me a newfound level of patience and love and another layer of
perspective that will come in handy down the road in whatever pursuits lie
ahead. &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;I can have the best of both
worlds. I just have to be patient. But regardless of where my career path takes
me, my crowning achievements—my best work—will always be my children. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/6330276960340766412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2012/05/is-there-life-out-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/6330276960340766412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/6330276960340766412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2012/05/is-there-life-out-there.html' title='Is There Life Out There?'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488127461080390395.post-2249710302282702503</id><published>2011-11-10T11:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T11:04:06.887-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jorryn-isms</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;It’s true. Kids really do say the darndest things. Ever since Jorryn voiced her first Da-Da sounds at around 6 months of age, she’s been delighting and—let’s be honest here—sometimes annoying us with a never-ending barrage of sounds and utterances. &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Since pregnancy and motherhood have given me the attention span and memory of a gnat, I wanted to write these “Jorryn-isms” down so I don’t forget them. Plus, I think friends and family (and maybe Peep someday) will get a kick out of reading them.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Some of them are made-up words or funny pronunciations and others are just exclamations or favorites. &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;At any rate, here they are:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Me-Me (pronounced Mimi):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; I’m partial, but this one’s my favorite. It’s what she calls me. Not sure why MaMa, Mom, or Mommy never made the cut but I love this. I always know when she’s talking or calling to me and when she’s throwing a temper tantrum and screaming in public, I can always look around and pretend she belongs to someone named Mimi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Ah ______:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; Again, not sure how this came about but Jorryn prefaces many of her words with “Ah” or “a.” Ah ball. Ah book. Ah Me-Me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Kiddee!!!!:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; She used to refer to the cat with meowing noises but now she screams KIDDEE!!!!! Whenever she sees our cat Jayden and chases him around the house. He’s not a fan but we think it’s hilarious. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Keen:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; This is how she says “clean.” And she loves to get paper towels, baby wipes, Kleenex, or toilet paper, and clean up around the house. Unfortunately, she usually tries to eat the paper product when she’s done. Gross. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Animal Noises: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Speaking of animal noises, these were some of her first words and sounds and still some of her favorites. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Woof-Woof:&lt;/i&gt; This is the only thing she’ll say in regards to dogs or puppies. It was her first animal noise and her favorite “lovey” is a stuffed pink dog that goes “woof-woof.” She sleeps with it in her crib. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;&quot;&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Cat:&lt;/i&gt; Mow (rhymes with wow)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Lion:&lt;/i&gt; Rarrrrrrr (sounds like a garbled growl)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Pig:&lt;/i&gt; snorting noises with her nose squished up&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Snake&lt;/i&gt;: Ssssssssssssss &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Monkey&lt;/i&gt;: Ooooh ooooh ooooooh&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Dolphin&lt;/i&gt;: EEE EEE EEE (This may seem like a weird one to teach a toddler but it’s kind of a family trait to be able to make a good dolphin noise, right Uncle Andy?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Bubble:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; This one’s notable because it was her first two-syllable word that wasn’t Da-Da. Plus, the girl loves her some bubbles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Nana!!!!:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; This is what she calls bananas. They are her favorite food by far. She eats AT LEAST one a day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Oh No! :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; This is probably her favorite phrase. She says it ALL the time for just about any reason you can think of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Granimal: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Okay, so Jorryn doesn’t exactly pronounce this one yet, but it’s what we’ve called my Mom since the start. It began with a pair of animal print pajamas, a little sleep deprivation, and a Grandma who was willing to stay up all hours of the night soothing “the hornet” in the early days wearing said animal-print jammies. It’s a kind of complicated nickname but it stuck…what do you do? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Bob-Bob:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; Bob-bob is my Dad, Grandpa Bob. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;‘Allo!:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; This is how she says “hello” when she’s playing with phones. It’s hilarious…she says it with a British or French accent. Who knows where she picked that up? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Ah Choo-Choo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; :Peep LOVES trains. This one is self-explanatory. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Ah, ah, ah, choo!:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; She fake sneezes too…I have no clue where she got this either. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;I did it!:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; We can probably thank &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Dora the Explorer&lt;/i&gt; for this, but she loves to run around the house saying “I did it!” And when&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt; Dora&lt;/i&gt; comes on TV, she doesn’t say Dora—she calls it “Ah Boots” after Boots the monkey on the show. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Colors:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; We’ve recently been working on colors. Her favorite is green (pronounced geen). Everything is geen…although lellow and purr-pole are also contenders. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Farts:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; It’s not classy, but I’m going to include it in this list. Any time she hears tooting noises (fake or real) she laughs and says PooPoo! I shouldn’t encourage it, but let’s face it; farts are funny at any age.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Baybee!!!:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; This is what she screams when she sees any baby but especially her new brother. On a related note, she seems incapable of saying “baby” at any volume under a million decibels. &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Needless to say, she often wakes up or startles Tanner with this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;Bubba:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt; When she tries to say brother, something like Bubba comes out. It’s cute. &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;As far as nicknames go, it’s not too shabby . We’ll see how it goes . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;&quot;&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;So there you have it. I’m sure I’m forgetting some and that I’ll add to this list in the future but these are the ones that come to mind at present. I can’t wait to show these to Jorryn when she’s old enough to be embarrassed by them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/2249710302282702503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/11/jorryn-isms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/2249710302282702503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/2249710302282702503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/11/jorryn-isms.html' title='Jorryn-isms'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488127461080390395.post-1521709233645982073</id><published>2011-10-28T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T12:47:02.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I&#39;m Baaaaaaaaack!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;It’s only fitting that Halloween is right around the corner because I’m pretty sure nothing comes closer to a real-life zombie than the parent of a newborn. For the past four weeks, I’ve been stumbling around in a sleep-deprived stupor, moaning and groaning my way through the days and nights. And while I haven’t started consuming human brains just yet, I’d probably eat pretty much anything &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;else you put in front of me that I didn’t have to prepare myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;The first month has been a bit on the rough side. Don’t get me wrong, Tanner is an awesome baby with a very sweet disposition. He only cries when he wants to eat…but therein lies the problem. He’s the hungriest little hippo on the block! (Not sure why I expected anything less from my “little big man.” He did weigh 9 lbs. at birth!) Anyhoo, piggy pants pretty much wants to nurse every 1.5-2.5 hours. As you can imagine, this non-stop feeding frenzy leaves very little time for sleeping or attempting once-taken-for-granted mundane activities like showering and brushing my teeth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;And then there’s the added challenge: my precocious, noisy, on-the-brink-of-terrible-twos toddler, Jorryn (aka Peep). At 20 months, she knows what the baby is, loves saying “baby, baby!,” and seems generally enthralled with our new addition. The flipside is that she’s very jealous when I’m feeding and tending to baby and when I’m not looking, she consistently tries to poke his eyes out and put a dent in his soft spot with a variety of toys and household objects. It’s not malicious, she just doesn’t know her own strength when she’s “loving” her brother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;I try to keep a level head and a modicum of patience by reminding myself that her world has been turned upside down, but it’s tough for everyone involved and I’m fairly certain Peep’s still trying to figure out when the baby is going to go away and things will go back to normal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Speaking of “normal,” we’re still trying to figure out exactly what that means. Juggling a toddler that needs attention with a newborn that needs even more attention while dealing with sleep deprivation, recovering from surgery, and tending to super-sore boobies, is definitely challenging. Fortunately, I’ve been extremely blessed to have my mom on hand much of the past month as well as help from various friends and family members in the form of meals, visits, and phone calls that have helped to restore and maintain my sanity. I’m beyond appreciative of all the love and support from those close to us and will try to keep everyone posted on our journey as we find our groove as as a family of four. Happy (almost) Halloween, everyone! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/1521709233645982073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-baaaaaaaaack.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/1521709233645982073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/1521709233645982073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-baaaaaaaaack.html' title='I&#39;m Baaaaaaaaack!!!'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488127461080390395.post-4281120670524545702</id><published>2011-09-27T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T10:06:15.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Final Countdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;For the last few weeks, I’ve had the annoying experience of “The Final Countdown” (that awful song from one of the &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Rocky &lt;/i&gt;movie soundtracks) playing on repeat in my head. It’s only fitting. With only three short days to go until my C-section and birth of our son, I’m nervous, excited, and to be perfectly honest…scared sh*tless. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Most of my fear stems from the unknown. Will Tanner be healthy? Will he be a good baby? Will my surgery/recovery go smoothly? Will he let us sleep? Will Josh and I be able to handle the pressure of our growing family? Will Jorryn behave and be a good big sister to him or will we have to build him a baby cage for protection? The list goes on and on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;This morning I woke up at 5AM and couldn’t go back to sleep. My busy brain just kept reeling and my nearly 39-week-preggo body was aching in protest of my little “passenger.” But the end is near and though I’m freaking out a little, I’m also beyond ready to meet my son. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;This may well be my last post for a while…until things settle down, at least. I’m off to enjoy my final few days “alone” with my sweet little girl, to toss&amp;nbsp;some outstanding&amp;nbsp;items in my hospital bag, and to try to&amp;nbsp;sneak in a&amp;nbsp;couple more&amp;nbsp;naps and put my feet up while I still know the meaning of the word “rest.” Until next time, wish us luck! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/4281120670524545702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/09/final-countdown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/4281120670524545702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/4281120670524545702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/09/final-countdown.html' title='The Final Countdown'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488127461080390395.post-3482931032032742150</id><published>2011-09-04T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T08:06:41.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pop Quiz Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Get ready, kids. It’s pop quiz time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Which of the following is acceptable to say to a pregnant woman?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;A)&lt;span style=&quot;font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;WOW, you look like you are going to POP!!! When are you due?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;B)&lt;span style=&quot;font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;How far along are you? You’re HUGE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;C)&lt;span style=&quot;font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;How many babies are in there?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;D)&lt;span style=&quot;font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;That must be a boy/girl. I can tell because of how ginormous your belly/ hips/back/butt is getting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpLast&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;E)&lt;span style=&quot;font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You look great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;If you chose anything other than “E,” beware. You may have awoken the dragon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Us preggos are a sensitive bunch. We know it, you know it. And while it may not be entirely fair that people have to tread lightly to avoid cascades of seemingly unwarranted tears or fits of hormonal rage it is what it is—and thankfully, it’s not permanent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;As I rapidly approach my due date at the end of the month, it’s kind of fun to watch the mixed reactions of awe and fear when I come around. Business owners and people in elevators look nervous, as if I’m going to drop to the floor and go into labor right there. Sensitive friends, family members, and strangers offer words of encouragement and tell me that the end is near and that I look great—despite the fact that I’m waddling around like a water buffalo with cankles. And then there’s the clueless and the just plain rude folks out there who feel the need to utter variations of A-D above. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I received the best compliment the other day. The hubs and I were at the waterpark with Jorryn and a woman came up to me and told me how cute I looked pregnant. Now, regardless of the veracity of that statement, it was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in days. And it made me feel good—especially since at the time I was hanging out (literally) in a bikini. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;The moral of the story? In the land of pregnancy, a kind word or two goes a long, long way. &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/3482931032032742150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/09/pop-quiz-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/3482931032032742150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/3482931032032742150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/09/pop-quiz-time.html' title='Pop Quiz Time'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488127461080390395.post-8120611879964000707</id><published>2011-09-01T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T08:57:33.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sh!t My Kid Eats…Literally</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;So, I’m just going to come out and say it. My kid is gross. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;She will eat anything—and I mean ANYTHING—off the ground, picked off a wall (or her nose), from the trash…you name it, she’s probably tried it. I told the pediatrician about it and we had her tested for anemia. No dice. She just likes to put random crap (sometimes literally) in her mouth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Here’s a partial list of inappropriate items that proved far too delicious for her to resist…and these are just the ones from recent memory:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Rabbit poop&lt;br /&gt;
Dried worms&lt;br /&gt;
Bird poop&lt;br /&gt;
Kitty litter&lt;br /&gt;
Hairballs&lt;br /&gt;
Her crib&lt;br /&gt;
Whole coffee beans&lt;br /&gt;
Cat food&lt;br /&gt;
Toilet paper/paper towels/Kleenex&lt;br /&gt;
Dirt&lt;br /&gt;
Flip flops&lt;br /&gt;
Leaves/sticks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;The crowning glory was the poisoned ant bait I found with teeth marks in it. (Before you judge, I thought it was out of reach. And I would have called poison control but she only chewed on the plastic outside and didn’t seem to be acting strangely.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Ironically, she won’t come within five feet of a vegetable. Those are flung off her high chair tray faster than I can bat an eye. Maybe if I wrapped broccoli in a cat turd I’d have better luck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;So for now it’s a game of vigilance and a test of speed. You’d be surprised how fast a 35-week-pregnant lady can move when her baby’s about to stuff poop down her gizzard. Good times. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/8120611879964000707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/09/sht-my-kid-eatsliterally.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/8120611879964000707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/8120611879964000707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/09/sht-my-kid-eatsliterally.html' title='Sh!t My Kid Eats…Literally'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1488127461080390395.post-2023576563766361111</id><published>2011-08-29T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T17:53:00.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Mommyville—Population: Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;After more than 11 years of being (mostly) gainfully employed, I’m embarking on a new career: stay-at-home Mom. With baby #2 due to arrive in a little over four weeks and an ever-willful and independent 18-month-old toddler on my hands, this “job change” isn’t just practical, it’s a necessity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Before I had kids, I always found myself wondering what exactly women who didn’t work outside of the home did all day. Today, I’m able to laugh openly at my naiveté. Keeping Jorryn (a.k.a. Peep) entertained, fed, safe, and happy leaves me far more drained and exhausted than working a normal 40-hour workweek ever did…and being almost 35 weeks pregnant complicates matters even more. Not that I’m complaining. Though being a mom is the hardest job I’ve ever had, it’s also the most rewarding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;One of the main reasons the hubs and I decided to have me stay home for a while was because I was been constantly struggling with the feeling that I was trying to juggle too many responsibilities—and not doing a truly good job at any of them. Devoting ample time and attention to my career meant that TV was babysitting Peep and I was a bad mommy. Focusing solely on the baby for a morning made me feel guilty for being a bad employee. And forget about the sugary sweet June Cleaver wife stereotype. After a day of trying to juggle work and child rearing I’d be lucky to have gotten a shower in, much less clean the house or have dinner and a cocktail waiting for my husband as he came through the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;I feel very fortunate and blessed to be able to take a slight hiatus from my career in order to raise the kiddos for a while. I’m appreciative of my husband for the hard work he does to support us. I’m thankful to my parents who taught me early on about the importance of managing and saving money and not getting into debt. And I’m thankful that I have an amazing group of friends—many of them stay-at-home mommies themselves—who will be around for fun play dates and to help me navigate these unfamiliar waters. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;I can’t possibly know what the next few weeks and months have in store, but I’m sure it’s going to be one heck of a ride. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/feeds/2023576563766361111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/08/welcome-to-mommyvillepopulation-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/2023576563766361111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1488127461080390395/posts/default/2023576563766361111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://groseclosegang.blogspot.com/2011/08/welcome-to-mommyvillepopulation-me.html' title='Welcome to Mommyville—Population: Me'/><author><name>Ryann Smith Groseclose</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00241062399337305239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvvrwm7RxJLW8PXg7-SkaVngjR_IuOPazcnXsGvk_hh5FDUrsmEo_-YpP1OccJEsv0Yp5Lex-XQO7PfQZLE8U_FlPXxr8a6csjPGN_HbaRegDtnyocfJk6CcsaYDUvcs/s220/Ryann+on+Bridge.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>