tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-269708652024-03-13T11:57:04.046-04:00DriftyMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.comBlogger220125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-78020370722955469182018-07-10T20:53:00.001-04:002018-07-10T20:54:51.629-04:00Ten Years<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Today is Rebecca and Maria's 10th birthday.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: #cccccc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Every year around their birthday a thought or feeling has bubbled to the surface demanding that I write about it. In the beginning, there were so many it was difficult to choose what to write. As the years went on, it was easier to pick and I felt the writings went deeper into places that needed to be discussed. This year, I've been waiting... But nothing has floated up to the surface. I was concerned at first that it was like year 8, where I just felt sad, but as I explored my feelings today, all I felt was peace. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: #cccccc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My relationship with this grief has continued to grow and change, and every year what I need to do has changed too. Our first year, we got our tattoos and organized a walk. We continued this for several years, donating to different charities who help with preterm labor and infant loss. I continued to write my thoughts yearly, even as the need for walking waned. Today I think I realized that my need to write is shifting too. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: #cccccc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It isn't that I have nothing left to say (those who know me, know that will never be true!) or that I am letting go of my girls, it's more that I am at peace with where I am. My family is strong, my girls are a part of it, and I have reached a place of acceptance in my life. The peace I am feeling means that the need to share publicly has passed. Ten years seems like a good milestone to let things shift and settle again.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Happy birthday girls. I still love you. I will always love you.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: #cccccc;"></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; display: inline !important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18.48px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Today and every day I remember. It would mean the world to me if you would take a moment to remember too. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and you continue to be loved.
</span></span>mjewarthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16940048372112217817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-11264162560882139582017-07-10T09:12:00.000-04:002017-07-10T09:12:36.900-04:00Nine YearsToday my girls Rebecca and Maria turn nine.<br />
<br />
This past year I have been thinking a lot about Nate and Julia's relationship with their sisters. What can be an uncomfortable topic with adults has been readily accepted by our children and their friends.<br />
<br />
I have seen many ways this idea of infant loss has been handled by others and their families, from complete silence to in-your-face acceptance. I do not judge as I understand just how personal a decision this is for everyone involved, but when Nate and Julia were born, our family had to decide how to handle this for ourselves.<br />
<br />
I started asking those around me what they thought and I was moved and comforted by many of the answers I got. The one that struck me though was a quiet conversation where my friend told me about her brother. She was so calm and sincere in her conversation that it has stuck with me all these years. She spoke of how she always knew him and how he was always a part of her life. When I asked if it ever made her feel sad or different or uncomfortable, she said that it always made her feel special to have a brother who was looking out for her always. Her face just radiated the kind of peace and love I wanted for my children and so in her answer, I found mine.<br />
<br />
And so Nate and Julia grew up always with a knowledge of their sisters. First the conversations only happened around July 10th, the girls birthday, and our birthday celebration. Then they noticed our tattoos and our conversations happened more frequently. As they have gotten older, their understanding has deepened, and I have gained a measure of comfort by seeing how easily Nate and Julia can speak about our girls and how much they truly are still a part of our family.<br />
<br />
I see their peace and calm and love and I am comforted.<br />
<br />
Today I remember. It would mean the world to me if you would take a moment to remember too. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and you continue to be loved.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-84706806891340772092016-07-10T22:15:00.001-04:002016-07-10T22:15:35.161-04:00Eight Years<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today my girls Rebecca and Maria turn eight.</span></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I have no witty ideas, no piercing insight, no burning thoughts to share.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I just feel...kind of flat. A little under inflated, like a balloon that hovers at knee-level.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I am thankful for those who had made the space in their hearts for my girls and reached out already to say they remember why this day is so special. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would mean the world to me if you would take a moment to remember too. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and you continue to be loved.</span></span></span></span></div>
<br /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-126416161569613262015-07-10T11:11:00.001-04:002015-07-10T11:11:24.891-04:00Seven Years<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today my
girls Rebecca and Maria turn seven.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Much to my
relief, I can still picture them. Together. Holding hands as they were the last
time I saw them. </span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve been
thinking a lot about the idea of strength and how that relates to the hardships
that so many people have faced at this point in their lives. I know very few
people who are untouched by tragedy - the early or unexpected loss of a parent
or sibling, the death of a child, a life changing medical diagnosis. Often
times when discussing this we say “I don’t know how they survived that…” but
what we really mean is “I’m so glad that isn’t me.” </span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Surviving tragedy
isn’t really about strength or a person’s character; it is that life won’t let
us quit moving forward. I don’t think I realized this until I recognized this
idea in a book two years ago. Funny because it was not a particularly great
book and not even one that I would recommend, but I found myself coming back to
this passage over and over again.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“When all
was well, you assumed that to suffer such a staggering blow would break you,
but when such ills actually befell you, you somehow persevered. You didn’t
survive to prove something to anyone, you didn’t press on simply because you
wished to, and you didn’t endure because of what the preacher in church said.
You survived because deep inside everyone was the simple, indefatigable need to
press on, whatever the costs. And even if so much was stripped away that you no
longer recognized yourself, the thing left was the part of you that you never
understood, that you always underestimated, that were always afraid to look at.
You were afraid you’d need it one day and it wouldn’t be there for you, but in
fact was the one thing that couldn’t be taken away.”</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Maybe that
is what we term ‘strength’ but it is also so much more than that.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">During the
weeks and months that followed their passing, I grew to hate being told I was ‘so
strong’ and ‘would survive’. As though I didn’t love my girls enough to allow
their loss to cripple me as others would. The platitudes that rolled in just
rolled over me. However, you could tell those who had been touched by tragedy
themselves in their silence and their quiet ‘I’m sorry’.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I suppose
that is why I’m choosing to write this here. There will be other tragedies in the
lives of others. You will find yourself uncomfortable and wanting to shy away
from those people who are suffering. Don’t give into the empty phrases, it isn’t
strength they need, it is quiet support and acceptance from you to allow them
to grieve and work through it. Life will push them forward and they will find
their footing again, and they will remember that you helped them understand
they weren’t alone.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I
remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would mean the world to me
if you would take a moment to remember too. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and
you continue to be loved.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.whentragedystrikes.org/followupwithsurvivors.html"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;">http://www.whentragedystrikes.org/followupwithsurvivors.html</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span></div>
<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-9585744461114607292014-07-10T14:34:00.001-04:002014-07-10T14:34:58.491-04:00Six Years<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today is
Rebecca & Maria’s 6<sup>th</sup> birthday. Happy birthday beautiful girls.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today has
also been a busy day as we iron out the details of our new mortgage and prepare
for the open house this weekend. In the middle of all this craziness, I put my
phone on silent, plugged my computer back in, and just sat…staring at my cursor…blinking.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The problem
isn’t a lack of things to say, but rather which is the most important. I had a post
already written in my head, about strength and surviving, but I find that my
heart wants to throw it out and write about what is happening right now. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">See, we are
moving to a new house. This is terribly exciting and a very positive change for
us. But, it means saying good-bye, again. This house was created to be a home
for my baby girls. We added bathrooms, bedrooms, and a dining room that I
filled with daydreams of them. Every choice I made was with them in mind. Then,
the world shifted, everything upended, right in the middle of construction,
when we lost them.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I built my
grief and longing into a memorial in those unfinished rooms. I sat, breathing
in dust on raw floors, in the middle of their nursery, missing them, for hours
on end. We wrote a dedication for them there. I created a wall in my bathroom,
with photos taken from the beach where I imagine them to be. There’s a quiet ring
on the deck that I touch whenever I walk past that serves as a space to tie
their balloons on their birthday.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know all
this doesn’t seem like much, but understand, barring my thoughts, this is all I
have of them. In a way, it feels like I’m leaving them behind. Again. Letting
them go. Again. I’m afraid I won’t feel as close to them in the new house. I’m
afraid that I’ll let them slip a little further away. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m afraid that I’ll
forget. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I won’t.
I can’t. My beautiful angels are carried in my heart. Today and for always. I will build new ways to honor them in the new house because they are always a part of our lives.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
Today I remember. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would mean the
world to me if you would take a moment to remember too. Rebecca and Maria, you
existed and you continue to be loved.</span></span></div>
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-58613196907630554752013-07-10T00:30:00.000-04:002013-07-10T00:30:01.587-04:00Five years
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today my
girls would have turned five. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Five years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It feels
like quite a milestone. It feels like it was a million years ago that I
discovered what real heart-break feels like, and yet, if I close my eyes, I am
back there in an instant. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve always
guarded this day, July 10<sup>th</sup>, Rebecca and Maria’s birthday. It was
the one day I could devote to just them. It was a day to feel the heartache and
to shed the tears. A day to shut myself away and just wallow in the grief. One
day, out of 365, that seemed reasonable to me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, of
course, life has a way of moving on… My life is blessedly busy and full these
days, and my grief has mellowed through the years. I had a turning point last
month. Yet another one! Here I thought I’d figured everything out about coping
with our loss…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It all
started with a long overdue trip to the dentist. When I was checking out,
making my next appointments, I realized that Nate and Julia needed to go in for
their first check-ups. We have a very busy schedule this summer, and it just so
happened that the only day they had that matched up with our schedule was, you
guessed it, the 10<sup>th</sup>. I stood, frozen to the spot, in an unfamiliar
setting with people who don’t know, inside howling, “NOOOO! That’s THEIR day!
It’s my day to do nothing else but remember them!” And yet, I had no other
reason to not book this much needed appointment. I found myself yet again
having to make that difficult choice of choosing to live my life or wallow in
the could’ve/should’ve beens. I so badly wanted to wallow…but I didn’t. I made
the choice again to honor life, not grief. I stood still for a long minute,
then swallowed, sighed, and whispered “That’s fine. We’ll take the 10<sup>th</sup>.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The story
doesn’t end there though. It continues with an invite to spend the day with
some friends and their kids. Now, I didn’t particularly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i> to go to the dentist… But this, this I really wanted to do. So
once again, I faced that choice, and with a twinge of guilt, made the decision
to go and live my life as it is right now. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I spent so
long after the birth of Rebecca and Maria living between two worlds, reality
and the one where I was still pregnant. I marked the weeks, thought about how
my girls should have been still growing, safe inside me. Thought about the
changes that would have taken place. Drove myself crazy with longing for what
should have been. My EDD (estimated due date) was a tough day, but it was also
one that forced me to make a decision. The decision to live in the real world,
full-time. I didn’t realize when I made that choice, that it was one I would
have to continue to make over and over again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A friend
just reminded me though, that living my life <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i></b> honoring their memory.
I don’t have to be sad to prove to the world that I loved my girls. I have to
live my life and include them in it. July 10<sup>th</sup> will always remain a
special day, a day to remember, but I don’t have to wall it off, carve out one
day and pour sadness into it as proof that I still grieve. Instead, I’ll bravely
live 365 days, and include their memories in all of them, speaking about them
with love when appropriate and mourning the loss of them as needed. And never,
never forgetting that for one all too brief moment I got to meet my two little
angels.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I
remember. It would mean the world to me if you would take a moment to remember
too. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and you continue to be loved.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-74710042195960366662012-07-10T16:23:00.000-04:002012-07-10T16:23:36.767-04:00Right Where I Am: Four Years<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rebecca and Maria turn four today.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Four years ago I was swimming in the ocean of grief. No life jacket. No land visible. No tow line available. Just me alone in an ocean of emotion that threatened to swallow me whole.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Eric became my life jacket. Holding me up and supporting me whenever it got to be too much. From the start of our relationship, I have always called him my rock, my foundation upon which I build a life. However, during that first year of loss, he was adrift like myself. Yet, he always found the strength to support me. Never critical of my emotions or thoughts, able to hold me and remind me who I was before our loss and who I could grow to be once I accepted it as part of our life. As we approach nine years of marriage, I'd like to thank him for that. For saving me when I wasn't sure I was worth saving. I love you.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, even with that, we were still just two people alone in the ocean. Until one day I discovered my tow line. Upon my therapists request, I ventured into the online world to discover if there were others who had experienced infertility and premature birth and loss. I started at <a href="http://www.inspire.com/partners/resolve/" target="_blank">Resolve</a>, not writing, just reading the bulletin boards, and through them I discovered people who understood me. Who were kind and gentle because they had been there and lived through it. People who wrote their emotions and pulled the words from my heart. People who became my friends. Through them I discovered Melissa Ford (aka Lollipop Goldstein) at <a href="http://www.stirrup-queens.com/" target="_blank">Stirrup Queens</a> and her blog roll full of people who were living through IF and loss. It was these boards and these blogs that towed me back towards land with their words and hopes and encouragement and mostly their understanding. I've pared back my blog reader as people went offline, until I'm down to a manageable number of blogs that I still follow. One them pointed me in the direction of<a href="http://stilllifewithcircles.blogspot.com/2012/05/right-where-i-am-2012-three-years-two.html" target="_blank"> this project</a> by s<a href="http://stilllifewithcircles.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">till life with circles</a>. A list of posts written by mothers about what their grief looks like at this moment in time. As I read them, I thought... perhaps I could add this post to the list.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, with the birth of Julia & Nate two years ago, I felt the land under my feet again. I had solid footing and knew how to starting rebuilding what the wave of loss had shattered. I am heart-breakingly aware that not all women who want to be mothers are able to, and I hope that they all find their land too. Most of those I still follow have found their footing again as well. Through work, through partnerships, through travel, through living life. Some, like me, through other children.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So what does my grief look like four years later? It has dulled, mellowed, wedged itself into a comfortable place. I know the grief, I'm comfortable with it. It no longer overwhelms me, rather it is just a part of me. At times I am sad, especially when I remember those horrible days in the hospital. There are conversations and life happenings in others that stir up the grief until it rises to the surface again. But mostly, I am happy. I go on with my life. I chase my kids, pick vegetables, talk to friends. I even got a dog last weekend! I try not to dwell on how the girls' lives ended, but rather focus on the positive and the good moments that I still cherish. I try not to think too much about all that I am missing out on, but rather focus on the beautiful location we left and how they are still there in paradise. I remember the love and try to ignore the bitter sting of loss. Most of the time, I can.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I remember. It would mean the world to me if you would take a moment to remember too. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and you continue to be loved.</span>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-33998221216656589782011-08-15T20:19:00.000-04:002011-08-15T20:19:07.095-04:00Walking the Dog<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've discovered that my posting here has really dwindled... For a number of reasons, but mostly FB has taken the place of this blog. I use the Book to post photos now and status updates take away the need to write much here. Still, I think I'll keep this around for times just like this when I have something cute to post (or interesting or that stands alone well...)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The twins love my sister's dog Breezy and they have a newly discovered passion for taking her for walks. It's a great way to keep them occupied! At least until Breezy gets tired :)</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N36Ck7xtSww/Tkm2puLVRuI/AAAAAAAAFt8/BEadLuQNcy4/s1600/IMG_2858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N36Ck7xtSww/Tkm2puLVRuI/AAAAAAAAFt8/BEadLuQNcy4/s640/IMG_2858.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate lets Breezy go where she'd like and happily follows behind...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IjR9RnLscUk/Tkm2s6Q7cjI/AAAAAAAAFuA/vdSTA04sMrc/s1600/IMG_3086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IjR9RnLscUk/Tkm2s6Q7cjI/AAAAAAAAFuA/vdSTA04sMrc/s640/IMG_3086.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but Julia yells until Breezy follows her where she wants to go.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-64116736445606080262011-07-10T15:00:00.003-04:002011-07-12T06:03:34.244-04:00Three Years<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today Rebecca and Maria turn three. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday was a gorgeous lovely day and I walked the Charles with friends and family for our annual Memorial Walk. We spoke of 'shoes and ships and sealing wax'... But also of our girls and what the passing of time means and how we are doing. It was a wonderful way to mark the anniversary of their birth. I was touched by each and every person's participation, both those who were there physically and the others who let me know they were participating in spirit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s amazing to me that I am not the only one who remembers. My girls were here so briefly and no one besides Eric and I ever really met them. It seems wondrous to me that others carry Rebecca and Maria in their hearts and hold on tight to the memories they have of them. I don’t think I realized that until Erica Magliaro shared with me how the 4th of July always makes her think of my girls because she spent that day with us and we walked and talked and watched the fireworks all together. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have filed away all my special memories of my girls, guarding them against the passing of time. There were so few, each and every one is precious to me. It was so hard to face the knowledge that there would be no new memories created. It is the best gift to me that Erica added to my collection with her remembrance. It touches my heart as well as eases the burden. I am not alone. My girls are not gone… For what do we have really, in the end, but shared memories and love between us all?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you for those who walked with us. Thank you for those who remember with us. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and you continue to be loved.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-72260146753794936862010-11-25T06:41:00.003-05:002010-11-25T06:41:00.365-05:00Thankful<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm8kmqunAI/AAAAAAAAFQw/1ugI9Uk4kr4/s1600/IMG_7526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm8kmqunAI/AAAAAAAAFQw/1ugI9Uk4kr4/s640/IMG_7526.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That I could open the trunk of Eric's Jeep and see this...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOsNUgSvarI/AAAAAAAAFQ0/CHsTRoij0MU/s1600/IMG_7733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOsNUgSvarI/AAAAAAAAFQ0/CHsTRoij0MU/s640/IMG_7733.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...And also that we traded in the Jeep for this shiny new BMW!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-23144720448393014372010-11-23T06:27:00.003-05:002010-11-24T22:29:23.257-05:00The eyes<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...Are the windows to the soul, right? Whatever they are, I love my babies' big blue eyes. I think they can speak volumes with just a look.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm63u3eIwI/AAAAAAAAFQc/GhbCmv2wgKU/s1600/IMG_7562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm63u3eIwI/AAAAAAAAFQc/GhbCmv2wgKU/s640/IMG_7562.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thoughtful</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm68S6Ti3I/AAAAAAAAFQg/jnorb3Gw57U/s1600/IMG_7564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm68S6Ti3I/AAAAAAAAFQg/jnorb3Gw57U/s640/IMG_7564.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Worried</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm7BNQnX3I/AAAAAAAAFQk/0m3ErkJH44Y/s1600/IMG_7565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm7BNQnX3I/AAAAAAAAFQk/0m3ErkJH44Y/s640/IMG_7565.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surprised</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm7SsDNygI/AAAAAAAAFQo/15WepLcyTjw/s1600/IMG_7566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm7SsDNygI/AAAAAAAAFQo/15WepLcyTjw/s640/IMG_7566.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm7Wkema8I/AAAAAAAAFQs/LNuJIx1dcGI/s1600/IMG_7591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm7Wkema8I/AAAAAAAAFQs/LNuJIx1dcGI/s640/IMG_7591.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mommy, please put down the camera now.<br />
Julia may like it, but I'm tired of having my picture taken.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-656742179294954332010-11-21T19:25:00.000-05:002010-11-21T19:25:11.125-05:00New lens<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My birthday present was a 100mm macro lens. I love it. Good thing I've got great subjects ;)</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm3tRxjZGI/AAAAAAAAFQU/0RtQeKKRdJ8/s1600/IMG_7568.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm3tRxjZGI/AAAAAAAAFQU/0RtQeKKRdJ8/s640/IMG_7568.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm4AJbcYRI/AAAAAAAAFQY/XV94HPEPpl0/s1600/IMG_7624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TOm4AJbcYRI/AAAAAAAAFQY/XV94HPEPpl0/s640/IMG_7624.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-28812924152459373802010-11-12T21:45:00.000-05:002010-11-12T21:45:20.668-05:00Swings<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love this photo because it just seems too strange. Why are a duck and a cow swinging? The fact that it is Halloween makes it seem more reasonable... But just on the face of it, it seems rather bizarre.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TN3fEvC36bI/AAAAAAAAFQQ/dRqTwF1whQw/s1600/IMG_7508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TN3fEvC36bI/AAAAAAAAFQQ/dRqTwF1whQw/s640/IMG_7508.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-37096217992164443622010-10-27T11:18:00.000-04:002010-10-27T11:18:00.130-04:00PJ morning<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love morning playtime, especially when it means staying in our pajamas!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML9CBwd8FI/AAAAAAAAFQI/s-v7xO4inA4/s1600/IMG_6842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML9CBwd8FI/AAAAAAAAFQI/s-v7xO4inA4/s640/IMG_6842.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML9HKxIVOI/AAAAAAAAFQM/mEQ38KX2NRk/s1600/IMG_6838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" nx="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML9HKxIVOI/AAAAAAAAFQM/mEQ38KX2NRk/s640/IMG_6838.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-78621434741907311162010-10-26T06:00:00.000-04:002010-10-26T06:00:07.651-04:00Last ones from the boardwalk<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I promise! Here are just a couple of random images that I liked.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7QI9IofI/AAAAAAAAFP4/WC0GG72DNL4/s1600/IMG_6775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7QI9IofI/AAAAAAAAFP4/WC0GG72DNL4/s640/IMG_6775.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eric refused to try and win me one of these incredibly adorable dolphins. He said something about having too many stuffed animals in the house already... So I had to settle for a picture instead.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7ZfI6OeI/AAAAAAAAFP8/dpNMIS5shSc/s1600/IMG_6740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7ZfI6OeI/AAAAAAAAFP8/dpNMIS5shSc/s640/IMG_6740.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Brows buy lemonade</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7kHdIzOI/AAAAAAAAFQA/rdwnidPbwT8/s1600/IMG_6815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7kHdIzOI/AAAAAAAAFQA/rdwnidPbwT8/s640/IMG_6815.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marin and Lauren in front of the Wildwood sign.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7ohOy4mI/AAAAAAAAFQE/e_saqyWpQwA/s1600/IMG_6995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML7ohOy4mI/AAAAAAAAFQE/e_saqyWpQwA/s640/IMG_6995.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very happy Eric eats a deep fried Oreo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-47283859640608480772010-10-25T11:04:00.000-04:002010-10-25T11:04:00.355-04:00Movement<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple images where I tried to capture the movement of the rides. Although I found it was very challenging to take photos while a baby is strapped to your chest! Really limits your range of motion.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML58LDcZ5I/AAAAAAAAFPw/CNcLfCYo0rw/s1600/IMG_6985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML58LDcZ5I/AAAAAAAAFPw/CNcLfCYo0rw/s640/IMG_6985.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt & Matty on the teacups</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML6AzgtHSI/AAAAAAAAFP0/KaoOEzhGKCw/s1600/IMG_6981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML6AzgtHSI/AAAAAAAAFP0/KaoOEzhGKCw/s640/IMG_6981.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random boy in a bumper car</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-86094949018935122512010-10-24T10:00:00.003-04:002010-10-24T10:00:04.982-04:00Bumper Cars<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML5SC6CPUI/AAAAAAAAFPo/CNzc5Q29WWo/s1600/IMG_6975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML5SC6CPUI/AAAAAAAAFPo/CNzc5Q29WWo/s640/IMG_6975.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Matts enjoy the ride.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML5Yb0KF3I/AAAAAAAAFPs/2OtCkS_9Snc/s1600/IMG_6965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML5Yb0KF3I/AAAAAAAAFPs/2OtCkS_9Snc/s640/IMG_6965.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eric & Julia cheer them on</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-80618709272382294252010-10-23T11:02:00.000-04:002010-10-23T11:02:18.054-04:00More From the Fair<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple more images from the fair on the boardwalk.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML4glupP4I/AAAAAAAAFPc/LBuGbGvi2yA/s1600/IMG_6788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML4glupP4I/AAAAAAAAFPc/LBuGbGvi2yA/s640/IMG_6788.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eric with his hands full</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML43PpSgmI/AAAAAAAAFPk/2TzX0ilrEIg/s1600/IMG_6780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TML43PpSgmI/AAAAAAAAFPk/2TzX0ilrEIg/s640/IMG_6780.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stealing kisses</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-64911194200929488742010-10-19T21:32:00.000-04:002010-10-19T21:32:43.570-04:00Ferris Wheel<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The only ride at the boardwalk that I felt I could safely ride with a baby strapped to my chest was the Ferris Wheel. It was pretty fun, although I may have been the only one in the family who enjoyed it!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5D3QG_U6I/AAAAAAAAFPA/TWPhowMYi0c/s1600/IMG_6933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5D3QG_U6I/AAAAAAAAFPA/TWPhowMYi0c/s640/IMG_6933.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Ferris Wheel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5D_u7ku_I/AAAAAAAAFPI/9xzU79nQJJ0/s1600/IMG_6945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5D_u7ku_I/AAAAAAAAFPI/9xzU79nQJJ0/s640/IMG_6945.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate sleeps through the whole ride.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5GItdqcBI/AAAAAAAAFPU/pvgSGBwr4bU/s1600/IMG_6940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5GItdqcBI/AAAAAAAAFPU/pvgSGBwr4bU/s640/IMG_6940.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julia starts off asleep too...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5EEAG6wKI/AAAAAAAAFPM/qUvajZ8F4GU/s1600/IMG_6954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5EEAG6wKI/AAAAAAAAFPM/qUvajZ8F4GU/s640/IMG_6954.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But wakes up at the top...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5EIupLNqI/AAAAAAAAFPQ/kGRS-G4QAIM/s1600/IMG_6959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TL5EIupLNqI/AAAAAAAAFPQ/kGRS-G4QAIM/s640/IMG_6959.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And becomes quite concerned!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-75965159175860151552010-10-17T08:08:00.000-04:002010-10-17T08:08:59.966-04:00Sand<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This Columbus weekend, we took a trip down to the Jersey Shore. It was an absolutely perfect weekend (minus a little traffic and a little screaming in the car). I'll try to get some of the better shots posted this week!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here are Matty and Marin playing on the beach. Unfortunately, the twins are just a little too little for playing with sand ;)</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TLrmrzhXqGI/AAAAAAAAFO8/WCosWOF0vDo/s1600/IMG_6919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TLrmrzhXqGI/AAAAAAAAFO8/WCosWOF0vDo/s640/IMG_6919.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matty</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TLrmm78sEVI/AAAAAAAAFO4/lJDx9LQnCG4/s1600/IMG_6910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TLrmm78sEVI/AAAAAAAAFO4/lJDx9LQnCG4/s640/IMG_6910.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-40775565951338442082010-09-05T19:02:00.000-04:002010-09-05T19:02:03.214-04:00Pajama Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love footy pajamas. I still laugh when I think of my sister who wore them through middle school (and would wear them still if she could find them.) Tonight when we put one these matching striped pjs for the first time (thanks Angie!) they just looked too cute that I couldn't help but take their picture.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TIQgFleT3eI/AAAAAAAAFOg/KQvV2VTt6FE/s1600/IMG_6274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TIQgFleT3eI/AAAAAAAAFOg/KQvV2VTt6FE/s640/IMG_6274.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TIQgM6rwSKI/AAAAAAAAFOo/3YWe7vKwInk/s1600/IMG_6294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TIQgM6rwSKI/AAAAAAAAFOo/3YWe7vKwInk/s640/IMG_6294.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-35396231594948747382010-08-23T12:32:00.000-04:002010-08-23T12:32:53.929-04:00Sunglasses<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Need I say more?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/THKhx1bDpBI/AAAAAAAAEfQ/3TXuiJYzTYk/s1600/IMG_5994.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/THKhx1bDpBI/AAAAAAAAEfQ/3TXuiJYzTYk/s640/IMG_5994.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Julia in Auntie Erica's sunglasses.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/THKh2TpllII/AAAAAAAAEfY/c-4aLjUeWuU/s1600/IMG_6022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/THKh2TpllII/AAAAAAAAEfY/c-4aLjUeWuU/s640/IMG_6022.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sam in his mom's sunglasses.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-63603731912977481072010-08-15T10:40:00.000-04:002010-08-15T10:40:32.554-04:00Sun Hats<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These hats might be my favorite clothing purchase for the twins. And unlike the tutu (yes, I promise it will be in photos soon) they are actually quite useful! The first image is of us (plus Auntie Erica) at Martha's Vineyard (where we enjoyed a very pleasant day visiting some friends), followed by some closeups so you can really appreciate the cuteness!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TGf7m9tlEMI/AAAAAAAAEek/Rs3nrw7V9GI/s640/IMG_6040-2.jpg" width="640" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TGf7uuWI7DI/AAAAAAAAEes/TPPFXthiKf8/s1600/IMG_5142-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TGf7uuWI7DI/AAAAAAAAEes/TPPFXthiKf8/s640/IMG_5142-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TGfwpfQd4LI/AAAAAAAAEeI/9myA13VaXy8/s1600/IMG_5139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TGfwpfQd4LI/AAAAAAAAEeI/9myA13VaXy8/s640/IMG_5139.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-39077718227758321342010-08-06T08:00:00.002-04:002010-08-06T08:01:52.617-04:00Feet<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFv5orGJakI/AAAAAAAAEdw/zsTm2cmrgsE/s1600/IMG_5443-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502265846921783874" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFv5orGJakI/AAAAAAAAEdw/zsTm2cmrgsE/s400/IMG_5443-2.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFv5oYcv_lI/AAAAAAAAEdo/F6sMlE-RqLc/s1600/IMG_5438-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502265841916313170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFv5oYcv_lI/AAAAAAAAEdo/F6sMlE-RqLc/s400/IMG_5438-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26970865.post-73407836521043000942010-07-30T07:17:00.003-04:002010-07-30T07:21:37.627-04:00My First Jeans<div><span style="font-family:verdana;">Well, not mine exactly... But theirs! So impractical... So adorable!</span></div><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFK1OFZnEFI/AAAAAAAAEdg/mD-JTTRnbmY/s1600/IMG_5260-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 550px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499657348545187922" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFK1OFZnEFI/AAAAAAAAEdg/mD-JTTRnbmY/s800/IMG_5260-2.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFK1Nx3Dl7I/AAAAAAAAEdY/gJr43jCSn5Q/s1600/IMG_5464-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 550px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499657343299983282" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_5cJ0kXdApNU/TFK1Nx3Dl7I/AAAAAAAAEdY/gJr43jCSn5Q/s800/IMG_5464-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14843068368934386466noreply@blogger.com1