garlic wonders
A common wart grew onto my knee, then I read somewhere that I should put garlic on it. So, I crushed up some raw garlic, put it on my wart, and covered it with a bandaid. Now it is almost gone.
Go garlic!
I've always wanted to go the garlic festival in Gilroy, CA. Maybe someday I will go and get to share my magical wart story to everyone who wants to hear.
Go garlic!
I've always wanted to go the garlic festival in Gilroy, CA. Maybe someday I will go and get to share my magical wart story to everyone who wants to hear.
Flashback Friday- Siblings
Life isn't complete without brothers and sisters. I am usually too occupied now to stop and think about how much I miss them, but it happens. Every so often I stop and feel sad that we are so far away from each other, that we don't get to see each other's kids grow up, that we are all grown up, adult people with separate lives.
And then, of course, I regret back and wish I had been a better sibling--more patient, more sharing, more unselfish, more kind. It almost seems too late to prove myself.
I hope my siblings know they are very much loved and missed, and maybe even though we don't see each other much (Tahiti,Oregon, Washington, Utah), we got to be siblings at one point. And being a sibling, and having siblings, makes us the people we are.
Days
The trash goes out on Thursdays,
La Leche League on Fridays,
Grocery shopping Saturdays,
We meet for church on Sundays,
We ride our bikes most Mondays,
Say goodbye to Micah Tuesdays,
Achievement Days on Wednesdays,
Meet friends at parks on Thursdays,
Welcome Micah back on Fridays,
Let's do something fun for Saturdays,
Quiet hikes on Sundays,
Family night on Mondays,
Clean the house on Tuesdays,
Do my Visiting Teaching Wednesdays,
Plan LLL meetings Thursdays,
Do Flashback Fridays, Fridays,
Use up cell phone minutes Saturdays,
Write in my journal Sundays,
New exercise plan on Mondays,
Try a new recipe Tuesdays,
Bake wheat bread on Wednesdays,
Dinner with Micah Thursdays,
Tidy up the house on Fridays,
Go over my calendar Saturdays,
Start a new book on Sundays,
Can't believe it's already Monday,
Catch up with friends on Tuesdays,
Wake up early Wednesdays,
Back to Thursdays................
Dream ,eat, pray, and play every day of the week. Then crash when tired.
La Leche League on Fridays,
Grocery shopping Saturdays,
We meet for church on Sundays,
We ride our bikes most Mondays,
Say goodbye to Micah Tuesdays,
Achievement Days on Wednesdays,
Meet friends at parks on Thursdays,
Welcome Micah back on Fridays,
Let's do something fun for Saturdays,
Quiet hikes on Sundays,
Family night on Mondays,
Clean the house on Tuesdays,
Do my Visiting Teaching Wednesdays,
Plan LLL meetings Thursdays,
Do Flashback Fridays, Fridays,
Use up cell phone minutes Saturdays,
Write in my journal Sundays,
New exercise plan on Mondays,
Try a new recipe Tuesdays,
Bake wheat bread on Wednesdays,
Dinner with Micah Thursdays,
Tidy up the house on Fridays,
Go over my calendar Saturdays,
Start a new book on Sundays,
Can't believe it's already Monday,
Catch up with friends on Tuesdays,
Wake up early Wednesdays,
Back to Thursdays................
Dream ,eat, pray, and play every day of the week. Then crash when tired.
Hard at first
It's become a weekly thing for us to be eating homemade bread and yoghurt. Making my own bread and yoghurt is one of those things that I always wanted to do, but thought it was too hard and complicated. It seems everything I do is hard at first, then all of a sudden it becomes........routine. I guess that's how I learn. Next I would like to learn the very hard skill of waking up early. ZZzzZZzzzzzzzzzzz.
We'll see.
We'll see.
Strength of Mountains
Life is hard sometimes, and I'm not afraid to admit that. There are days I want to scream, cry, or throw something very breakable at the wall. I think one of the hardest things to do when life is hard, is to forget about yourself, and focus on the people who need you.
But, there's always going to be that voice in your head saying,"You deserve a huge break," "You need to have fun." "You never get to do anything for yourself." "You are losing your sense of self." "Don't you deserve to have a life?"
And then you have to force your mind to shut out these thoughts because they won't do you any good.
Being a mother is about giving up yourself, usually for the long term. And that means some hard days of sacrifice and stinky armpits ahead.
I like to believe, however, that when I have a hard day which makes me want to scream, I am adding strength to my reservoir. I imagine myself one of these huge, powerful mountains who stands strong and immovable above everything else. And each hard day adds another layer of stone and rock, and strength, to add to my experience. Even when on those days I feel like an insignificant, little, ant hill, I still pray I can become stronger, like a mountain.
Yesterday I felt like an ant hill.
My kids have had HFM virus for the past two and half weeks, making them extremely clingy, and whiny, and hurting. It is hard to see your children helpless and in pain. It is hard to leave yourself behind, and care for them 24/7.
I was looking forward to a huge break when Micah came home this weekend. However, Micah came home with Strep throat!
So, yesterday I woke up feeling defeated, with all the little voices in my head trying to validate what I already felt inside. "You need a break!"
With nothing left to do, and Micah's suggestion, I packed up some lunches, some extra clothes, and the baby hiking backpack, and took the kids to Kolob Canyon. It's usually a 20 minute drive from our house, but I had to drive 55 mph on the 75 mph freeway because of the wind. Our old-fashioned pink bus is high centered, so there's extra caution for tipping over in high winds. (That's a 1974 Volkswagen bus for ya.)
However, the slow, windy ride to Kolob gave the kids time to drowse to sleep, and offered me some silence as I drove into the canyon.
Still feeling like a tiny ant hill, at least I had some quiet time to myself to think.
As I rounded the corner into the canyon, I caught my first glimpse of one of the mountains. I started to cry.
There it was, this huge, strong, breathtaking, powerful, undefeated, and beautiful mountain, standing there with such glory; I really loved this mountain. I wanted to be this mountain.
It felt as if the mountains transferred some of their strength to me. I stood there and stared up at them, and let them recharge my tired soul. It was like an instant refresher. I stood there and stood there and let them do their thing.
Shortly thereafter my kids woke up. We hiked down to the creek and ended up having a wonderful day. I really like hanging out with my boys.
It's hard to be a mother. But I am learning how to be the strong one I need to be. I learned yesterday that when those voices come at me, carelessly convincing me I need to be set free, all I need to do is find strength in the mountains. When I see them standing there so strong, they seem to provide me a refreshing, new energy. They seem to be the voices that say, "You can do it." "You have a wonderful, fulfilling life." "Your boys love and appreciate you" "You are doing an awesome job."
Thank you, Mountains.
But, there's always going to be that voice in your head saying,"You deserve a huge break," "You need to have fun." "You never get to do anything for yourself." "You are losing your sense of self." "Don't you deserve to have a life?"
And then you have to force your mind to shut out these thoughts because they won't do you any good.
Being a mother is about giving up yourself, usually for the long term. And that means some hard days of sacrifice and stinky armpits ahead.
I like to believe, however, that when I have a hard day which makes me want to scream, I am adding strength to my reservoir. I imagine myself one of these huge, powerful mountains who stands strong and immovable above everything else. And each hard day adds another layer of stone and rock, and strength, to add to my experience. Even when on those days I feel like an insignificant, little, ant hill, I still pray I can become stronger, like a mountain.
Yesterday I felt like an ant hill.
My kids have had HFM virus for the past two and half weeks, making them extremely clingy, and whiny, and hurting. It is hard to see your children helpless and in pain. It is hard to leave yourself behind, and care for them 24/7.
I was looking forward to a huge break when Micah came home this weekend. However, Micah came home with Strep throat!
So, yesterday I woke up feeling defeated, with all the little voices in my head trying to validate what I already felt inside. "You need a break!"
With nothing left to do, and Micah's suggestion, I packed up some lunches, some extra clothes, and the baby hiking backpack, and took the kids to Kolob Canyon. It's usually a 20 minute drive from our house, but I had to drive 55 mph on the 75 mph freeway because of the wind. Our old-fashioned pink bus is high centered, so there's extra caution for tipping over in high winds. (That's a 1974 Volkswagen bus for ya.)
However, the slow, windy ride to Kolob gave the kids time to drowse to sleep, and offered me some silence as I drove into the canyon.
Still feeling like a tiny ant hill, at least I had some quiet time to myself to think.
As I rounded the corner into the canyon, I caught my first glimpse of one of the mountains. I started to cry.
There it was, this huge, strong, breathtaking, powerful, undefeated, and beautiful mountain, standing there with such glory; I really loved this mountain. I wanted to be this mountain.
It felt as if the mountains transferred some of their strength to me. I stood there and stared up at them, and let them recharge my tired soul. It was like an instant refresher. I stood there and stood there and let them do their thing.
Shortly thereafter my kids woke up. We hiked down to the creek and ended up having a wonderful day. I really like hanging out with my boys.
It's hard to be a mother. But I am learning how to be the strong one I need to be. I learned yesterday that when those voices come at me, carelessly convincing me I need to be set free, all I need to do is find strength in the mountains. When I see them standing there so strong, they seem to provide me a refreshing, new energy. They seem to be the voices that say, "You can do it." "You have a wonderful, fulfilling life." "Your boys love and appreciate you" "You are doing an awesome job."
Thank you, Mountains.
The Floss Story
Or, the story that my mom likes to make fun of me about.
Shortly after I graduated from high school, I was driving in the car with my mom.
So we're driving along and I notice a package of floss. So I start flossing my teeth. Suddenly I smell the most repugnant, rancid odor coming from the floss. I sniff a little closer and there it is again- the most disgusting smell I have ever smelled.
So I yell,"What the crap, Mom?? You bought the grossest smelling floss! This floss smells like Poop! What is this?--Poop-flavored floss?"
As I'm grabbing for the box, ready to verify that she bought poop-flavored floss, my dear mother says calmly, "Sally, the smell you are smelling is the rotten food between your teeth, which has been festering in there for weeks."
And ever since then I have been flossing my teeth every day, sometimes twice a day, and especially after corn and mango.
The End
Shortly after I graduated from high school, I was driving in the car with my mom.
So we're driving along and I notice a package of floss. So I start flossing my teeth. Suddenly I smell the most repugnant, rancid odor coming from the floss. I sniff a little closer and there it is again- the most disgusting smell I have ever smelled.
So I yell,"What the crap, Mom?? You bought the grossest smelling floss! This floss smells like Poop! What is this?--Poop-flavored floss?"
As I'm grabbing for the box, ready to verify that she bought poop-flavored floss, my dear mother says calmly, "Sally, the smell you are smelling is the rotten food between your teeth, which has been festering in there for weeks."
And ever since then I have been flossing my teeth every day, sometimes twice a day, and especially after corn and mango.
The End
Attached to my toddler
I'm officially nursing a toddler, and enjoying it. We have our trying moments, but for the most part, neither of us is ready to give it up, so here we are.
It's nice to have the World Health Organization make supportive statements such as, "Exclusive breastfeeding is recommended up to 6 months of age, with continued breastfeeding along with appropriate complementary foods up to two years of age or beyond."
It helps to validate what I already feel instinctively. I know nursing a toddler is good for me and the babe. I've read many times that as babies get older, the composition of the milk changes to meet their growing needs. A nursing toddler still receives all the antibodies and disease-fighting immunities, along with whatever vitamins his growing body needs. Human milk is so amazing!
And for me, burning lots of calories, and delaying my menses, is nothing to complain about.
Nutritional benefits aside, when I look down at my nursing 17 mos old, I see this look of pure contentment in his eyes. It's a look I can't really describe, but I feel in my heart that he is so at peace with life when he is nursing.
This past week Odin has been sick, plus teething on top of that. His one, single source of comfort has been nursing. I love it when he comes running to me, worried and sad, arms open wide, knowing exactly what will make him feel all better.
Nursing a toddler is humorous. I should think you need a sense of humour to handle the startling changes of nursing a walking, talking, thinking child. No more are they the small, still, iconic baby, staring lovingly into your eyes. Odin twists, twirls, kicks, squeezes, stands up on my lap, and makes the silliest of noises, while he....eats.
I can't walk around the house shirtless, without his eyes getting real big, and immediately wanting to nurse. I feel like the giant, walking steak, in those old cartoons. It makes me laugh.
be still child!
Nursing a toddler isn't just a lifestyle choice, it's an emotional and physical need. We need each other, and we're not ready to wean. I'd say, we're pretty attached.
It's nice to have the World Health Organization make supportive statements such as, "Exclusive breastfeeding is recommended up to 6 months of age, with continued breastfeeding along with appropriate complementary foods up to two years of age or beyond."
It helps to validate what I already feel instinctively. I know nursing a toddler is good for me and the babe. I've read many times that as babies get older, the composition of the milk changes to meet their growing needs. A nursing toddler still receives all the antibodies and disease-fighting immunities, along with whatever vitamins his growing body needs. Human milk is so amazing!
And for me, burning lots of calories, and delaying my menses, is nothing to complain about.
Nutritional benefits aside, when I look down at my nursing 17 mos old, I see this look of pure contentment in his eyes. It's a look I can't really describe, but I feel in my heart that he is so at peace with life when he is nursing.
This past week Odin has been sick, plus teething on top of that. His one, single source of comfort has been nursing. I love it when he comes running to me, worried and sad, arms open wide, knowing exactly what will make him feel all better.
Nursing a toddler is humorous. I should think you need a sense of humour to handle the startling changes of nursing a walking, talking, thinking child. No more are they the small, still, iconic baby, staring lovingly into your eyes. Odin twists, twirls, kicks, squeezes, stands up on my lap, and makes the silliest of noises, while he....eats.
I can't walk around the house shirtless, without his eyes getting real big, and immediately wanting to nurse. I feel like the giant, walking steak, in those old cartoons. It makes me laugh.
be still child!
Nursing a toddler isn't just a lifestyle choice, it's an emotional and physical need. We need each other, and we're not ready to wean. I'd say, we're pretty attached.
An offer
We finally got an offer on our house in Idaho. Maybe we can finally close that chapter of our lives and move on! We put it on the market one year ago, asking $99,000. We just got a most condescendingly low, rather insulting offer of $55,000. Yikes! At least that's how it seems after all our hard work. It makes all our efforts seem so futile, but oh well. We live and learn, right?
Moral of the story? Don't buy a house unless you know you're going to stay there, or don't buy a house right before the biggest economic crash of the century.
Our sweet, little house where we planted beautiful gardens, learned the value of hard work, cozied up next to a wood-burning stove, learned the meaning of "freezing cold winters", watched our Zadok take his very first steps, gave birth to our baby Odin, entertained good friends and neighbors, and became more of the people we are today because of the experience. :)
Moral of the story? Don't buy a house unless you know you're going to stay there, or don't buy a house right before the biggest economic crash of the century.
Our sweet, little house where we planted beautiful gardens, learned the value of hard work, cozied up next to a wood-burning stove, learned the meaning of "freezing cold winters", watched our Zadok take his very first steps, gave birth to our baby Odin, entertained good friends and neighbors, and became more of the people we are today because of the experience. :)
Party?
I am finally figuring it out here in Utah land. If someone invites you to a party, you have to make sure you know what kind it is first, before you accept. I know, I know, it sounds silly, because who doesn't want to go to a party?
But for the 10th time this year I got invited to a party, got all flattered they would be so kind, accepted the invite........then realized it was really a business party. As you walk in the door they hand you a catalog, and hope you brought your checkbook. It could be for books, tupperware, cooking supplies, scrapbooking, clothing, make-up, or board games. You name it, someone in your neighborhood is selling it, and calling it a party.
What sort of madness is this???? I have to admit I wanted to cry. Doesn't anyone want to have a party, just because? And then they could call it a party and really mean it? And then they could invite me because they just really like me?
I'm all for people making an extra income, but maybe they should call it something else as to not confuse the little people.
But for the 10th time this year I got invited to a party, got all flattered they would be so kind, accepted the invite........then realized it was really a business party. As you walk in the door they hand you a catalog, and hope you brought your checkbook. It could be for books, tupperware, cooking supplies, scrapbooking, clothing, make-up, or board games. You name it, someone in your neighborhood is selling it, and calling it a party.
What sort of madness is this???? I have to admit I wanted to cry. Doesn't anyone want to have a party, just because? And then they could call it a party and really mean it? And then they could invite me because they just really like me?
I'm all for people making an extra income, but maybe they should call it something else as to not confuse the little people.
Flashback Friday-Wedding colors
No wedding reception is complete without a GIANT, RAINBOW, rice krispie treat, eh?
The night before our wedding day (Nov 11,2004) when I should have been hanging out with my family, my fianc'e, and relaxing, I was busily molding rice krispies and marshmallows into this colorful, magical treat.
NOTHING SAYS "I LOVE YOU" LIKE AN EDIBLE RAINBOW.........right honey?
The night before our wedding day (Nov 11,2004) when I should have been hanging out with my family, my fianc'e, and relaxing, I was busily molding rice krispies and marshmallows into this colorful, magical treat.
NOTHING SAYS "I LOVE YOU" LIKE AN EDIBLE RAINBOW.........right honey?
Glueshells
Glue-ing sea-shells on stuff reminds me of my sister. We've both been diving for seashells since we were kids. I still have over 1000 seashells that are like precious jewels to me. I'm not as liberal in glue-ing them, anymore, because the ocean is so far away. They're not as replaceable as they used to be.
But when I go to my sister's house she has seashells glued onto most things: lamp shades, light-switch covers, soap containers, mirrors, picture frames, the kitchen counter...you name it.
So, I made her this frame recently. I think she liked it. I need to go back and dive for more shells before I run out. Either that, or just start gluing river rocks onto everything.
The glass rocks are from the $ store, and I think they add a nice, tropical-looking touch. Lauhala roses are found in Haw'n craft stores.
But when I go to my sister's house she has seashells glued onto most things: lamp shades, light-switch covers, soap containers, mirrors, picture frames, the kitchen counter...you name it.
So, I made her this frame recently. I think she liked it. I need to go back and dive for more shells before I run out. Either that, or just start gluing river rocks onto everything.
The glass rocks are from the $ store, and I think they add a nice, tropical-looking touch. Lauhala roses are found in Haw'n craft stores.
27 days left
Summer seems to be slipping away. Although we've had an awesome and fulfilling Summer, doing lots of anything we feel like doing, I never like to say goodbye too soon. So, if you consider Labor day (the first Monday in Sept.) to be the final end of Summer, that means we have 27 days left to celebrate my favorite season.
There are lots of things that I wanted to do this Summer, and lots of things I've done. However, let's just say I need to pick up the pace if I'm going to do all of them.
Not to worry, I work really well under pressure.
So,
I have 27 days left to:
Read my huge stack of books that have been piling up
Wake up early every morning and jog
Swim nude in some lake
Get my 20 year old body back
Paste googley eyes onto every tangible object in my house
Write a letter to popsicles and tell them how good they are
Buy a Karaoke machine and have a sing-a-thon every night
Do the splits on parked cars like "Here I go Again" by Whitesnake
Boycott Wal-Mart for good, once and for all
Stay awake at night longer than my family
Buy cheap garden fencing and pretend to have an herb garden that didn't grow......oh wait, I already did that.
Not sew anything
Wear skirts daily
Free, unihibited playtime every day
Never poke a hook through a worm ever again for fishing (trauma!)
Establish myself as the community junk collector for the neighborhood
There are lots of things that I wanted to do this Summer, and lots of things I've done. However, let's just say I need to pick up the pace if I'm going to do all of them.
Not to worry, I work really well under pressure.
So,
I have 27 days left to:
Read my huge stack of books that have been piling up
Wake up early every morning and jog
Swim nude in some lake
Get my 20 year old body back
Paste googley eyes onto every tangible object in my house
Write a letter to popsicles and tell them how good they are
Buy a Karaoke machine and have a sing-a-thon every night
Do the splits on parked cars like "Here I go Again" by Whitesnake
Boycott Wal-Mart for good, once and for all
Stay awake at night longer than my family
Buy cheap garden fencing and pretend to have an herb garden that didn't grow......oh wait, I already did that.
Not sew anything
Wear skirts daily
Free, unihibited playtime every day
Never poke a hook through a worm ever again for fishing (trauma!)
Establish myself as the community junk collector for the neighborhood
Alanis
She is a lyrical genius and inspiration. I truly love her music. It didn't grow on me until years after the high school explosion of "ironic", and now in my adulthood I find her lyrics speak to me. I feel her poetic voice somewhere deep within this head of mine. The emotional variety of her music always has a time and place to heal me or rock me.
This is one of my favorites,although a bit depressing, it has a hopeful message. From the album "Under Rug Swept." Please read on or just listen..
So Unsexy.
Oh these little rejections how they add up quickly
One small sideways look and I feel so ungood
Somewhere along the way I think I gave you the power to make
Me feel the way I thought only my father could
Oh these little rejections how they seem so real to me
One forgotten birthday I'm all but cooked
How these little abandonment's seem to sting so easily
I'm 13 again, am I 13 for good?
I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind
Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me
One forgotten phone call and I'm deflated
Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me
Your hand pulling away and I'm devastated
When will you stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserting baby?
When will I start staying with myself?
Oh these little projections how they keep springing from me
I jump my ship as I take it personally
Oh these little rejections how they disappear quickly
The moment I decide not to abandon me
Flashback Friday-Me, Pants
My lil' bro made this years back. I kinda used to have a Spongebob obsession.
Okay so I know I am posting this on Thursday night, but I won't be around tomorrow. :)
My Sleeping Angels
I love the way they look, lying so quietly in bed.
It's like all of the high-energy, and the rambunctiousness, all the tears spilled, and the laughter shared; everything that all happened during the course of the day, is instantly shut off. Quiet, peaceful, calm, and put on pause for tomorrow.
I love to get in bed while they are sleeping, and stare at them. I stare at one, then I stare at the other, then I turn back and stare at the one, then the other, then the other.......until I've had my fix.
I can stare all I want at their soft faces, their quietly breathing chests, their gently closed eyelids, their chubby knuckles, and their big, long legs, without interruption. They always look so much taller lying down on the bed.
I look at them and ponder where the months have gone.
I like to lie there and stare at them and kiss their little cheeks, their hands, and touch the softness of their hair. And they let me for as long as I want.
My sleeping angels allow me to dream one more day that they will always be my babies, until they wake up again tomorrow, eager to grow a little bit bigger.
I cherish these moments, sleeping in our family bed.
Buuu-bbles!
Odin just learned another word to add to his short list. His wee vocabulary consists of Mama, dog, hot, and now.... bubbles!
Grandma and Grandpa Jackson drove up from California last week to see us, and brought a plethora of bubble supplies, like bubble soaps, bubble wands, bubble trays, and bubble pipes! (Yep, like Popeye blowing a smoke-bubble stack). It was so much fun sitting in the backyard with the grandparents, blowing all sorts of types of bubbles, and watching the boys' eyes light up.
It was enough to inspire Odin to say, "Bubbbles,!!" And he has been saying it ever since.
We sure enjoyed our weekend with the Jackson grandparents, and really appreciated their visit. We love you Tim and Sandy!
Next time you come to visit, we hope Odin will learn to say,"I love you grandpa and grandma and thanks for the Bubbles!
Odin and grandma getting bubbly
Grandma and Grandpa Jackson drove up from California last week to see us, and brought a plethora of bubble supplies, like bubble soaps, bubble wands, bubble trays, and bubble pipes! (Yep, like Popeye blowing a smoke-bubble stack). It was so much fun sitting in the backyard with the grandparents, blowing all sorts of types of bubbles, and watching the boys' eyes light up.
It was enough to inspire Odin to say, "Bubbbles,!!" And he has been saying it ever since.
We sure enjoyed our weekend with the Jackson grandparents, and really appreciated their visit. We love you Tim and Sandy!
Next time you come to visit, we hope Odin will learn to say,"I love you grandpa and grandma and thanks for the Bubbles!
Odin and grandma getting bubbly
99 dangly earings on the wall...99 dangly earings...
Well, more like 18, but I can't help to sing that old tune every time I see my new dangly earing holder. I had said I wanted to make one, and I did, just in case anyone was wondering.
Just some felt, glue, and an old 14 x 11 frame. I really love it.
I seem to have a lot of blue, green, and silver danglies, and am lacking heavily in the red, orange, yellow, dangly department.
On a completely un-related side-note, my birthday is January 29.
Just some felt, glue, and an old 14 x 11 frame. I really love it.
I seem to have a lot of blue, green, and silver danglies, and am lacking heavily in the red, orange, yellow, dangly department.
On a completely un-related side-note, my birthday is January 29.
Happy World Breastfeeding Week
Happy World Breastfeeding Week everybody!
WBW is August 1-7, every year. Ironically, I was all ready to type something really long and cool about it, when my 17 mos old woke up to nurse. So, here I am, typing with one finger, with a baby on my breast, keeping this short.
To sum it all up, the theme for this year is "Breastfeeding: Prepared for life." To me, that means being ready at all times to give my baby what he needs, in any situation. Weather a natural disaster strikes and we are left destitute, or my baby wakes up in the night needing emotional comfort, I am here. I am always prepared to feed him, comfort him, nourish him, and love him, with our breastfeeding he so loves and needs.
I was able to raise $360 dollars at a yard sale fundraiser on Saturday, to benefit La Leche League!! I couldn't have done it without all the donations, and physical labors, of other breastfeeding advocates in my community. It was a lot of hard work, but well worth it! Thank you to everyone who helped make this a success!
Off to cuddle and nurse my sweet Odin......
Mama and Odin workin' the yard sale.
WBW is August 1-7, every year. Ironically, I was all ready to type something really long and cool about it, when my 17 mos old woke up to nurse. So, here I am, typing with one finger, with a baby on my breast, keeping this short.
To sum it all up, the theme for this year is "Breastfeeding: Prepared for life." To me, that means being ready at all times to give my baby what he needs, in any situation. Weather a natural disaster strikes and we are left destitute, or my baby wakes up in the night needing emotional comfort, I am here. I am always prepared to feed him, comfort him, nourish him, and love him, with our breastfeeding he so loves and needs.
I was able to raise $360 dollars at a yard sale fundraiser on Saturday, to benefit La Leche League!! I couldn't have done it without all the donations, and physical labors, of other breastfeeding advocates in my community. It was a lot of hard work, but well worth it! Thank you to everyone who helped make this a success!
Off to cuddle and nurse my sweet Odin......
Mama and Odin workin' the yard sale.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
