tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320821082024-03-07T19:54:56.279-06:00BingBongBoom!!!A place for anything and everything that comes to mind.amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.comBlogger801125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-78173030902919211742017-02-26T16:50:00.002-06:002017-02-26T16:50:48.525-06:00Find Some JOYSometimes life is rough. A lot of negativity has entered our collective consciousness since President Trump has taken office. I confess that I've had a lot of long weeks and tired nights, worrying about his Executive Orders and appointments. <br />
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But, then. But. Then. Something enters into your life to remind you how wonderful it still is. <br />
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I think it was when Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling were both sitting at the piano, dueting on City of Stars. I mean, I was enjoying myself up to that point. I love Emma Stone. I love Ryan Gosling. Seeing them act together again had been wonderful up to this point. But it was this moment when I thought, "I am so glad to be alive in a world that has created La La Land." Oh, you might think me to be a bit dramatic to make such a statement, but it brought me so much JOY. The end of the film was hard for me to take: in fact, I had to run to the restroom after the film to ugly cry in a stall. I understood the end, though, and why it had to happen, and because it was so real, because it represented what life throws at you and how important love is, and how vital it is to have someone believe in you and support you, is why I cried all the harder. <br />
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I can't wait to see it again. I can't wait to have it shine on my eyes and ears again. In the face of fierce negativity and what sometimes seems like utter hopelessness, find something that brings you joy, and DO NOT be ashamed to revel in it. Do not let others tell you that you shouldn't be happy in these uncertain times, because that, my dear ones, is pure rubbish. My joy (besides my awesome husband and kids) is currently La La Land. I hope you have one, too.amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-79115650585469853492017-01-19T13:29:00.001-06:002017-01-19T13:29:42.375-06:00It's So Hard to Say GoodbyeIt is hard to put into words what the Obama Presidency has meant to me. <br />
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It has restored my faith in politicians. In Barack Obama and Joe Biden, I see two men who I believe did the best they could for this country. I truly believe they did the best they could to let their morals and hearts guide them. There job wasn't perfect. How could it be? They could never, ever do everything to please everyone. But, I believe they were just, true to their beliefs, and let their hearts guide them.<br />
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I have witnessed a First Family lead this country with humility, grace, and courage. I have watched them lead without scandal. I have been proud to say I'm a citizen of this country under their lead.<br />
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I have seen a President be always strong and firm, yet not afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve. In the wake of school shootings, a church massacre, and the too frequent deaths of young black men taken down in the streets, among so many other events that cause "normal" people to break down (including myself), he persevered, longing to bring hope to the hopeless and disenfranchised. <br />
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I have seen memes of a beautiful, respectful, enticing bromance. I mean, c'mon! In this day and age, a little levity never hurt anybody, and President Obama and Vice President Biden played along when appropriate. They also used social media for good, to spread positivity, in order to lift others up, never bringing people down. <br />
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I have seen a First Lady outdance late night talk show hosts, outclass every person in the room, and fight oh-so-diligently for the health and well being of our youth. I cannot put into words how much I admire her...and want to be her when I grow up.<br />
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I have been able to watch these people on the grand stage of world politics endure pressure, glowing praise, criticism, and unabashed hatred. Throughout it all, they kept their cool, stayed calm, and always stayed focused on the good of our country. <br />
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It is so hard to say goodbye to the Obama and Biden families. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared about the next four years. I do not want President Elect Trump to fail, though. That would mean wanting failure for our country. I want him to rise up to his position. I want him to rise up to the class and dignity that his predecessor has put before him. I want him to be able to see there is strife, anger, fear, and renewed disillusionment in our country...and I want him to prove people wrong and govern us with fairness, equality, and justice. <br />
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Tomorrow will be a hard, heavy, sad day for many. But, HOPE is what the Obamas taught me the most. And I will continue to hope and pray for our country, everyday, without fail. Will you do the same??<br />
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<br />amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-69546664326601989532017-01-16T22:19:00.002-06:002017-01-16T22:19:34.061-06:00Miss Me?Probably not. No one out there probably even remembers this exists, but...<br />
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I miss writing. I want to write some more. I hope to soon.<br />
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I have to warn you, though. The first couple of renewed energy posts might be hard-going. You'll see why...<br />
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Hope you don't mind I'm back, because even if you don't notice, it's okay. I need this. amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-38971719571200688292016-01-15T09:18:00.000-06:002016-01-15T09:18:16.561-06:00Here We Go AgainTwo legends. Within one week. Both 69. Both died from cancer. <br />
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This week has sucked.<br />
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Alan Rickman was outstanding. He was beyond words. He was a powerful yet understated actor. He was one of those that I always thought must have had an amazing sense of humor and be kind beyond measure. I mean he had to be to make up for all of those awesome baddies he played. <br />
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Media outlets have been remembering him for playing all the villains--which he did very well. The first time I ever saw him was in 1991's Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (which, thanks to Christian Slater I saw THREE times in the theatre). I was completely enamored of his portrayal of the Sheriff of Nottingham. He was so disgustingly wicked! I went for Christian Slater, but I was mesmerized by Alan Rickman.<br />
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He kept showing up in my movie world, and each time I was so happy he was present. I didn't see Die Hard until I was much older: nailed the villain again. I've always been obsessed with his carefully maintained beard in that, too. So 80s. So villainous. <br />
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Oh, he's Snape? Well. That's perfect. A "villain" with a conflicted heart of gold. Even before the end of the Harry Potter series was published, I knew there was more to Snape, and when he was cast, I knew it was perfection.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">If this didn't make you feel all the feelings, you are not human.</span></div>
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What about comedy? Galaxy Quest? CHECK. Dogma? CHECK. (Man, I just wanted him to be able to taste that tequila!)<br />
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Sweeney Todd? I get to see Alan Rickman AND Johnny Depp...SINGING??? OKAY!!!! I'm okay with that! Completely okay.<br />
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How about some voiceover work in another Tim Burton film, Alice in Wonderland, or giving the best performance in the big-screen adaptation of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? A lot of people love Morgan Freeman's voice, but I always loved Rickman's more. It was velvety yet rugged. Sophisticated. Learned. Oooohhh, I loved it.<br />
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But my favorite...my FAVORITE Alan Rickman was Love Actually. The couple he and Emma Thompson portray, though definitely not the happiest of the lot, was the most real. Confused, middle-aged, wanting something more, yet still needing his family, understated...the two of them presented a real-life situation that happens way too often. I admire and respect their performances the most in that film, and though it's hard to watch each time, when Emma Thompson's voice cracks when she tells him, "...you've also made a fool out of me, and you've made the life I lead foolish, too," and then the look of realization on his face...It's perfect and real and kind of lovely that they could capture that on film to let others know they aren't alone when a comfortable marriage falls apart.<br />
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So, we say goodbye to another, and...here's the deal. I have a pop culture mindset. I'm not really sure how it happened, but I grew up completely engrossed in music, TV shows, and movies. I was that teenager who had crushes on all the 80s hunks--like Michael J. Fox, John Stamos, Kirk Cameron, River Phoenix, Ricky Schroder, Brian Bloom (anyone remember that one?), Michael Schoeffling--and my heroines were bright-eyed ingenues--Molly Ringwald, Alyssa Milano, Justine Bateman, Drew Barrymore (rebel that she was at the time). I talk in movie quotes and song lyrics. Rarely does a day go by that I don't quote from one or both. The highlight of my year is always twofold: watching the Golden Globes and then comparing them to the Oscars. I am movie. I am music. I love the people involved in them. And many think I am silly and weak-minded to have feelings for actors, actresses, and musicians when they pass. Well, it's just who I am, because they help make up WHO I am. If you don't like that, I guess you don't like me. <br />
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Let's put this week to rest with a Bowie/Rickman celebration. Listen to all the Bowie. Watch all the Rickman. It'll make you smile!amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-90369148450082406372016-01-11T17:12:00.001-06:002016-01-11T19:11:54.115-06:00Surprise! It's Bowie!Last night the world lost a great one, an EPIC one, an icon. David Bowie passed away after an 18 month battle with cancer two days after his 69th birthday, and two days after his 28th album, Blackstar, was released. I hadn't even had time to listen to Blackstar yet when I woke up to find this news. Before I hit the shower my face was already wet with tears. I don't want to dwell on his passing, but just for a moment I want to celebrate his chameleon-esque form and talents.<br />
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You see, for me David Bowie is intricately interwoven into some of my favorite movies and TV shows, more than songs. He is part of my pop culture fabric. He is in so many bits and pieces of the quilt of my youth and being--some music, some TV, some fashion, some music videos--that he actually embodied the ever moving and evolving state of being that he longed to portray to everyone. For me, Bowie always was changing, and it was a matter of fact for me.<br />
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For me, he was a Christmas song first. The one that's still my favorite. Then he started to come alive to me through MTV, with Mick Jagger and China dolls.<br />
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He accosted my ears with pure power and energy, and with things I'd never heard before, with Under Pressure, Space Oddity, Suffragette City, Changes, Fame...the list keeps going and going and going. <br />
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The best moments, though, were when I was just sitting, innocently watching something, and all of a sudden, Bowie was there. I squealed with delight when he popped up where I least expected him. Like I squealed. Out loud. For real. Twin Peaks & Bowie? Oh my God. Really?? This is happening?<br />
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A walk off...with BOWIE AS THE JUDGE??? Of course he'll be of service: HE'S DAVID BOWIE.<br />
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The Prestige...Christian Bale, Hugh Jackman, and, oh my gosh...Bowie! With a mustache! It's him!<br />
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His music BECAME homage--tribute--revered. Part of Baz Luhrman's Moulin Rouge. When Ewan McGregor sang Heroes, it was just...just...everything. Heath Ledger dancing to Golden Years in Knight's Tale...still makes me shiver. What about Bowies in Space via Flight of the Conchords? Or Bowie in Ricky Gervais' Extras?? Every single one I didn't expect. He was everywhere. Fluidly moving between all art forms. And what about his art? Music/performance/fashion/his very own self. He touched everything; experimented with anything. Hell, he even made <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/business-35280945" target="_blank">Bowie Bonds</a>, so people could participate in his art and wealth. Perhaps best of all for me, he made us a <a href="http://forreadingaddicts.co.uk/reading-habits/david-bowies-top-100-books/7735" target="_blank">list of books</a> to read. For this librarian, that's the ultimate form of love. <br />
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But after all of this, let us never, EVER forget Todd Haynes' <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120879/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank">Velvet Goldmine</a>. I saw that one my freshman year in college, fall of 1998. I was all by myself. I had to call my grandfather for a ride from my dorm room to the theater. No one I knew wanted to see it. I was having a really rough time adjusting to life in college, without all of my best friends around me; I was borderline depressed. My granddad said he'd come in with me to see it, so I wouldn't be alone, and I told him I didn't think it would be his thing. It was about loneliness, being an outcast, trying to find where you fit in the world...everything I was going through. It wasn't officially Bowie, but it was. It was everything.<br />
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I believe, truly believe, there will never be another like him. At least in my lifetime I know there won't be. Maybe my children will be lucky enough to have someone as epic, but, well...I doubt it. amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-45308349317343307802016-01-06T09:29:00.002-06:002016-01-06T09:29:55.560-06:00Coloring is a Thing!I love to wander around bookstores. It's my favorite past time. I really love to do this around the holidays: all the new, shiny books are out, people are hustling and bustling and talking about possible books to buy, and the shelves are always PACKED with loads of tomes for the customers to peruse and purchase. <br />
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Here's my other favorite past time (that I don't get to do much of anymore): coloring. I love to color. I always have. I used to take a coloring book with me wherever I went. I'd take one with me when I went to visit my cousin in Missouri (this was as an adult, mind you). I vividly remember one time, not long after her father's death, when we sat around her kitchen table coloring, talking, and pretending that we were kids again. I took coloring books with me to Scotland when we'd visit, and I'd even take them to staff meetings. Even though it might have looked like I wasn't paying attention, because I was coloring, it helped keep me focused. I am "that person" who needs to be doing something at all times: when I would color, I could still hear what everyone was saying and process the info. <br />
<br />I've heard whispers of these "adult" coloring books: relaxation coloring, mandala coloring, whatever coloring. But, the real impact this is having on our culture didn't hit home until I was browsing through Barnes & Noble last week. "Adult" coloring books EVERYWHERE. I mean everywhere. On each table display, there was an adult coloring book that went with it. There was a magazine endcap with adult coloring magazines. Now, today on my Facebook feed, I see there's a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0399542299/ref=as_li_ss_sm_fb_us_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=213733&creative=399837&creativeASIN=0399542299&linkCode=shr&tag=datethsi-20&linkId=MGZHPEDSPJWQJ37O&qid=1452086119&sr=8-1&keywords=Doctor+who+colouring+book" target="_blank">Doctor Who Coloring Book</a>. <br />
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I don't know. It's just weird to me...that coloring is all of a sudden a fad. It should never be a fad. It should always be there, waiting for you. All of a sudden, since it has "adult" in front of it, it's okay for me to do it? Whatever. It's been okay for me for years and years...for over 30 years when I come to think of it, but I'm so glad it's socially acceptable again?? I'll probably break down and buy one eventually, but I need someone to help fund the expensive super fine point markers you HAVE TO BUY to go with it. Ain't no Crayola gonna work on those. So, for now, I'll just stick to coloring my Superman and My Little Pony coloring books. amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-78498621554357390492015-12-29T23:32:00.002-06:002015-12-29T23:54:03.848-06:00This is the House Where...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I learned to roast a turkey.<br />
I learned the true fear of a stormy forecast.<br />
Jungle Speed, Pirates, and Guitar Hero ruled.<br />
We had all the friends--Galen & Carla, Darren & Tina, my beloved 6 North (Dave & Amanda, Lisa, Joseph & Emily), and so many more.<br />
We had all the family--even more so after little babies were born.<br />
I opened the front curtains, saw my Mommy in the driveway, and knew about Clarkie without speaking. <br />
Little babies came and made a Cape Cod a home.<br />
A Nana and Gaga came everyday and gave so unselfishly of their time to help raise their babies right.<br />
A Mimi and Ted B came as often as they could to see their first greats and revel in their laughter.<br />
Visitors from Scotland came as often as possible and were always, ALWAYS welcomed with great love and appreciation and joy. <br />
A tired Mummy and Daddy would come through the doors every night see a baby (then two, then three) running into them yelling, "MAMA!!!" or "DADA!!!" and then energy was restored.<br />
I stand at the door of a lime green room, which belonged to a sweet #1 baby. Where I walked back and forth with her and sang Silent Night in the bedtimes of her first Christmas season. This is the room that held the pink sign Sissy made for her when we were still in the hospital, and it was waiting for us when we came back. This is the room that held ponies and hand-crafted art and books galore and will forever be Alba's.<br />
I walk into a large room, fit for a Mummy and Daddy, but in the end better for a Bubby. Big maroon walls and plenty of room for a futon to jump on, bins of toys to play with, and even a TV to watch cooking shows on. This is where a little man got to explore his space, have a big boy toddler bed, put his heroes on the wall, and play all the Kobe games. This is Kean's. <br />
I stand at the door of lavender room, the room of a most welcomed surprise #3. We didn't know we needed her, but we're so, so blessed beyond words that we have her. Where I walked in to hear two little voices yell, "SURPRISE!" after Daddy had painted the room all by himself. The room where I would hum Mary Poppins' "Stay Awake" to the sweet girl who never wanted to nap. The room where Big Sister and Big Brother would hold joyous dance parties around their newest best friend. Even though it started as Kean's and as a guest bed before him, this is Skye's, no matter what happens next.<br />
Under the guidance of nursing babies I was able to experience Smallville, Big Love, Gilmore Girls, Twin Peaks (again), Veronica Mars, New Girl, and countless Hallmark Christmas movies (thank you two December babies).<br />
Kean would hug his tree, Alba would color her sidewalks with chalk, and Skye would chase her bubbles.<br />
So many birthdays filled the walls to busting, everyone snug and tight to sing to a little Alba or Kean or Skye.<br />
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I said goodbye for the last time today. I stood in the kitchen after a final cleaning and sweeping and walking through, and I saw the ghosts of little blonde-headed moppets running through, giggling, crying, laughing, singing, and dancing. As bright and fresh as yesterday, I saw them before my eyes. It's so hard to say goodbye to a place: you know it's just a place, but it is so much more. So, so much more. <br />
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I learned to love like I never thought was possible.<br />
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<br />amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-45057598365385847602014-09-04T17:59:00.002-05:002014-09-04T17:59:28.521-05:00No More CryingMy previous three posts caused a lot of tears--both happy and sad--but now I'll pull a complete 360. I'm gonna go all the way back to the late 80s and talk about the designer perfume of choice...<br />
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ELECTRIC YOUTH.<br />
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That's right, people. Debbie Gibson's signature scent, Electric Youth. It was my signature of choice, too, for all of 4th and 5th grade. I remember my great-grandfather gave me a bottle of pink-tinged EY for Christmas in 4th grade (it was the first gift he gave me after my great-grandmother passed away), and boy oh boy did I enjoy spraying some on my wrists and dabbing a bit behind the ears. I felt so cool. So hip. So happening. So like Debbie Gibson.<br />
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Why am I going on and on AND on about Electric Youth the Perfume today? Well, because I went into a public restroom at the fancy schmancy Siebel Center for Computer Sciences on the UIUC campus yesterday, and it smelled just. like. ELECTRIC YOUTH. It was heady, so musky, so THERE. I was teleported back to my 10 year old self, and I wasn't even in a DeLorean equipped with a flux capacitor. It was outrageous. <br />
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I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking of a few of things:<br />
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1) Will the old bottle I kept in my bedroom, that's now been boxed up after my bedroom was cleared out last year, still smell as wonderful as it did in 1990? <br />
2) If not, can I buy some on eBay? <br />
3) If I can't do THAT, will Debbie Gibson start to mass produce it again?...or has she already? I wish there was the wearer of the scent was still in the bathroom when I went in there. I would have totally asked for a spritz...or two.<br />
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amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-38058256646716957402014-08-25T00:21:00.001-05:002014-08-25T00:29:14.975-05:00My Buddy & MeAll of this hoopla about Kindergarten, and our "Jan" almost got left out of the mix.<br />
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I thought I was done with all of the emotions of Kindergarten until tonight. We knew lil man was heading off to pre-school tomorrow, but I guess...well...okay, it got overshadowed. I feel horrible. I feel like I should have spent more time worrying and dry heaving and crying. Don't be worried: it's all started in the last few hours.<br />
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I love our boy. So. Much. He's crazy. He's destructive. He refuses to bend to the will of conformity to become potty-trained and decides to hide under the dining room table to do his business by himself. (Then, he sneaks out with a WIDE grin on his face and a glint in his eye and declares, "Kean poop.") He gives the most outstanding hugs in the world, and he longs to be cradled in my lap still. He runs around shirtless declaring that he's John Henry, "born with a 'ammer, born with a 'ammer in my hand!" He gives THE BEST wink in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD. And, if he turns it on you, it WILL be your Kryptonite, and you WILL give him anything he asks for. He's been working hard in speech since January to get his S's on the beginning of his words, and he's also working on his T's and D's. Sometimes, though, it's just too hard, and he says, "That's my last 'TUH.' No more. All gone now." His smile has 1.21 gigawatts of awesome behind it, and I'm pretty sure Doc Brown could have used its rays in lieu of a lightening bolt. He is so sweet that sometimes my eyes well up from the sheer amazingness of his spirit.<br />
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He is ALL boy, and he is ALL ours. Until tomorrow.<br />
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He'll go out into the world of pre-school. I'm worried (of course I am; worrying IS what I excel at). Worried that he'll miss Nana and me too much, and his sisters, and start to cry in class. Or, even worse for my mind's eye, that he'll get his trembly lil chin going and then just crumple up in tears. I'm worried some boy or girl will take something from him, and he won't understand. He'll just stare at them with his HUGE blue eyes and wonder what just happened. <br />
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I'm worried the same way I was with Big Sister, but with Lil Man, it's just different. I'll never forget my Aunt Elizabeth telling me how special a bond is between a momma and her son...but since she told me when I was 11, I thought she was just a little high from new baby hormones. It couldn't be much different than having a girl, could it? I mean, a boy's still your kid, just like a girl is, so it's all the same, right? Nope. I was stupid. I was wrong. She was way right...ridiculously right.<br />
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I love him so. He is brave, but delicate. He is silly, but kind. He will run rampant, but is reserved when needed. He is just the best brother and son in the world. And no kid better mess with him or Mama Bear's comin' down on Chesterbrook. <br />
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amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-66725806761249779772014-08-21T15:18:00.000-05:002014-08-21T15:18:18.305-05:00Shine a Light on MeI love that totally sad, pathetic post from last night. Why? Because it's real. It's what I felt in that moment. I don't care if people think I'm an overbearing silly mom, because I cry at the thought of my kid going to Kindergarten. It's the way I am. I'm programmed to feel things deeply and emotionally, and crying is a great gift--whether it be joyful or sorrowful.<br />
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Today a close friend made me see the light, made the sunshine come out, and she reminded me how lucky Kindergarten is to get our sweet girl. She's going to bring joy to her teacher--hopefully everyday. She's going to come home enlightened with new knowledge everyday. I'll get to watch her and coach her through learning to read real books, not just site words, and her excitement and giddiness will be mine, too. I'll get to listen to her talk about the best music teacher on the planet and learning to sing wonderful new songs. I'll get to hear her talk about adding and subtracting, because for some reason, I think she's really going to like math and the logic in entails. I can't wait to hear about ALL OF IT. She's also going to make other kids smile, and I hope she'll bring happiness to them if they're having a bad day. <br />
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To be honest, I've had moments of fear this summer about where she'll go to school. There has been a lot of violence and gang activity in the neighborhood that surrounds her building. But, I feel called and compelled to keep her there for that very reason. A gentleman in our local paper stated (I'm paraphrasing here) that we can't leave or walk away from this neighborhood, because the gangs and criminals win. Too right he is. Baby Girl and her classmates will bring joy to that school and their teacher. They'll learn together: how to read, write, do math, and I hope how to empathize, sympathize, and change the world.<br />
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Watch out, Kindergarten. Here comes my #1.<br />
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<br />amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-51776223729183065782014-08-20T23:39:00.000-05:002014-08-21T15:19:35.857-05:00Bittersweet Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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OK. So, here's the thing that SUCKS about your little girl going into Kindergarten.<br />
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It's not that she's getting older or that she won't be around that much or that you fear and dread and pre-loathe any bully or jerkface kid that might try to cross her path and make her less confident or make her think she isn't beautiful or any other stupid jerkfacey thing.<br />
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It's this:<br />
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It's the realization that your memory is failing you, and when you look down at this beautiful, intelligent, inquisitive, kind, caring 5-year-old being that you are lucky enough to know...that when you look down at her you can't remember every moment you spent together like you want to.<br />
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Already memories are hazy. So many things go on in our lives, so much, and I can't remember the first time my girl sat up or when she rolled over or when she started saying Mama. Oh, sure. I always had good intentions of keeping baby books and charting every little thing, but I guess life got in the way. I hope she knows when she grow up that even though I didn't have a book for her, I spent time with her, snuggled with her, loved on her, and took her for way too many treats (ice cream, cookies, extra bowls of shredded cheese at El Toro). <br />
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On Friday, August 22, 2014, I want to live in the moment of fear and sadness and hesitation and hope and excitement and JOY of her first day of Kindergarten. I want to live in the moment of watching her bravely march off to her room, turn and give me her little wave, and then take her seat. I want to live in that moment and remember it forever, but I'm so afraid of the time it will slip away from me forever, like she eventually will. That's what sucks the most. amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-75008361361961777012014-03-06T18:51:00.001-06:002014-03-06T18:51:40.923-06:00More on...FOOD!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What the heck does a picture of a full dishwasher have to do with anything? Well, it proves that I'm starting to take better care of my family.<br />
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I've ALWAYS loved cooking, but I've also always loved eating out. Have you noticed that food tastes better when someone else prepares it for you? Recently I've been introduced to Einstein & Bros. Bagels. They have something called the Tasty Turkey. It's super simple: multi-grain bagel, spread with chive cream cheese, turkey, cucumber slices, tomato, and spinach. I could make it at home, but I guarantee you it wouldn't taste as good. I love me some good, hot pizza, too. Oh, man. I can try to make pizza at home, but a large Italian Special from Monical's will always, ALWAYS beat my pizza.<br />
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Since I've started to kind of sort of get into the swing of having three little ones, I've been cooking more, using dishes more, and therefore, filling up the dishwasher more. I used to only fill up the dishwasher twice, maybe three times a week. Now we've been looking at 4-5 times per week. A pretty good improvement. I also feel like I'm feeding my family better, too: homemade dishes will always be better, even if you splurge, because you won't get into all of the processed ingredients from eating out. Let me amend that: you'll get less processed ingredients if you're cooking with fresh ingredients and not just warming up Stouffer's every night.<br />
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We still eat out, mainly because I haven't mastered the art of Indian cuisine yet. But, every filled up dishwasher helps me feel a little bit better about taking care of what my family eats. Maybe someday SOON I'll get to 6 full dishwashers/week, cause let's face it, I'll never get to 7. amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-84094564497585038212014-02-18T16:40:00.004-06:002014-02-18T16:40:54.158-06:00Life--Won, School--0I show up to class with hair horrible, a hoodie on (that may or may not have had spit off scrubbed off the left shoulder five minutes before I left the house--I'll let you guess which), no make-up, and completely disheveled. I feel like I've been perpetually running behind since last week. I didn't get my readings done, I did complete the writing components of my two classes today, but I still haven't picked a story out to tell in two weeks or started the paper I have due next week. Oh, and I maybe should start the research for that, too?<br />
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What is going on with me???<br />
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This one might have something to do with it...<br />
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Or, this one...<br />
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Maybe this one...<br />
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School with three kids is definitely different than anything I've ever done before. It's cool, because I get to show my older kids what it's like to be a student. It's not cool when I don't have time to give the effort to papers and assignments that I want. <br />
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This experience, though, is teaching me to roll with the punches. I am not a 23-year-old singleton with boundless energy and all time focused on this degree. I don't have countless hours to join different associations, complete many volunteer hours, or cow-tow to awesome faculty members. It's different getting a degree with family responsibilities, but I wouldn't change where I am for the world. I am super blessed. <br />
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Life beat out school this week, but I hope to be more balanced for the rest of the semester--heck the rest of the time it takes me to earn this degree--budgeting my time better while still giving crazy loves to my bebes and hubby. This is awesome: being a mom, wife, AND student. I just hope to be better at it next week. I also hope to not beat myself up so much when Life wins sometimes, because it definitely will. amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-70939445824316048992014-02-13T08:50:00.000-06:002014-02-13T08:50:15.155-06:00FOOD!!!Yesterday I was talking to a friend at school. I missed a dinner date she had set up with a few other girlfriends last week, because I was just feeling a bit under the weather. (With a constant winter of snow and ice, feeling sucky thanks to sniffles and headache has gotten to us all.) I told her that we should start a Dinner Club, that I was officially naming it Dinner Club, and then I asked when the next Dinner Club would be. She told me they were planning on getting together but at someone's house....without food. <br />
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I didn't get it.<br />
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Without food?<br />
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What was this crazy moon language?<br />
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It was with this simple statement delivered from her and my quick subsequent thoughts, that I did not hold in but vocalized, that I realized food is EVERYTHING. Forget Elvis, forget the Beatles, FOOD is EVERYTHING.<br />
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It's how I socialize. It's how I show others I care. It's how I comfort those in need of hugs and support. It's how I celebrate with those who have just had a new baby. It's all about food. I can be creative, mix things together, and revel in a new dish I created. I can be transported back to my grandmother's small, crowded kitchen when I try to re-create perfect mashed potatoes that would make her proud. I can spend time with my daughter, teaching her how to use kitchen tools, and then have her school me by saying, "Mama, don't forget to curve your fingers, so they don't get cut," when I was dicing onions. (For. Reals. I almost died.) <br />
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I've struggled with my body image my whole life, but after this third baby I've been looking down and finally, FINALLY saying, "Yup, this is it." THIS is me. I might fluctuate here and there, but I'm always gonna be a solid girl. I got hips, I got a butt, I got big thighs. It's me. And, it's all from food...I don't even mind. I will strive to eat healthy and totally balloon, but I am who I am. <br />
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Later in the same day, another friend asked what I was eating for lunch. It was quinoa chili. She asked, "Oh, are you vegetarian?" To which I replied, "Nope. I just love food. Give me meat. Give me veggies and tofu. I LOVE it all." Well...I guess I don't want to eat live octopus that sticks to your tongue and mouth, but I'm game to most things. <br />
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<br />amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-24474418368398666502014-02-03T14:36:00.001-06:002014-02-03T15:17:27.563-06:00BE PRESENTSo here I am sitting at Panera reading about writing as a technology. How great thinkers, like Plato, abhorred it, because it forced people to memorize less and rely more on stale, unresponsive symbols instead of the transmission of thoughts orally (which is more raw and honest). All of this reading about writing as media, and I cannot help but hate the technology that was to my right.<br />
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A mom and daughter came in. Aww...so cute!, I thought. A mommy-daughter date. *sigh* Within seconds, the daughter pulled out her iPhone and completely ignored her mother for the duration of their too-quick meal. It was a light lunch: a salad for both. Mom kept trying to engage Daughter: asking what she should make for dinner...Maybe vegetable soup? Maybe lasagna? Daughter kept her eyes glued to her phone while making gagging noises. Mom tries to change the subject to shopping, a subject that I judged Daughter would love, what with her Uggs on, French manicured nails, and acid-washed skinny jeans. Still no interaction. Just a long, one-sided convo on behalf of Mom. Mom even tried talking about a salon trip, but again, no real interaction from Daughter, apart from some hems, haws, and guffaws.<br />
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I was so sad. (And, I of course started to imagine my kids and husband sitting around the table glued to their phones while I just sit and try to talk to them.) I wanted to weep for Mom, trying so hard to have a nice time with her daughter. I just cannot, CANNOT stress how important it is to leave tech away from family time. I love technology as much as the next person: don't even get me started on my adoration of the Roku, I love my iPod, I love my MacBook I'm using right now, I LOVE taking pics of my wee ones on my iPhone, but pretty soon we're all going to end up Cybermen, like in Season 2 of Doctor Who. It just scares me to see communication deteriorate so rapidly over the past few years. I have friends I can't even call, because they don't like to talk on the phone but would rather text. Then I'm texting a convo, which leads me to multi-task at home, where a real phone conversation would demand all of my attention...not to mention LOVE, CARE, and TIME.<br />
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Can we all just hold back a little? Put the tech away during dinner? Leave the texting to later (cause if something's THAT SERIOUS, they'll call)? Try some old-school tech sometime and WRITE somebody a NOTE? Hey, Plato may not be too thrilled with that choice, but I know I would.<br />
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<i>rant: fin</i>amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-21804712582616299092014-01-29T15:31:00.000-06:002014-01-29T15:31:11.138-06:00Blessings All RoundSometimes life just HITS you, and you have to stand up, take note, and appreciate and love what you've been given and have the opportunity to watch/experience.<br />
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A dear friend celebrating the life of her beloved grandmother. A time for tears? Yes, maybe, but more importantly a time for me to thank God that she had her grandmother for so long, and that she wants to share her grandmother's life with others.<br />
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A new friend who brings me, and others, cookies during a class break. REALLY??? Her income is limited (for all students it is, isn't it?), and she shares cookies with us! WOW. I'm humbled and blessed.<br />
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A brave friend who shares recent struggles on her blog, which gives others strength and encouragement to be honest and open with wherever they are and whatever is thrown at them. I am lucky to have someone so brave in my life.<br />
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A young student who only wants to sing and does so in the bathroom, with the door open, at the top of her voice. And, this, gentle readers, is my oldest baby. As I walked into her classroom to pick her up, there she was in the class restroom, singing her little heart out, and not even minding who heard. Oh, I wish she could always hold on to that honest, I-don't-care, free-to-be attitude: I wanna sing, and I'm gonna do it RIGHT NOW! <br />
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And, finally, watching my husband revel in his favorite video game with our oldest two. Listening to all of them think through and cooperate to get Zelda safe in Wind Waker has been just about the best thing ever. It might be "just" a video game, but these kids are gaining major problem-solving skills, and I'm now a parent that will always encourage role-playing games.<br />
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These are just five things I'm thankful for. No images today, folks. Only words that I hope show you how blessed life can be, through pain, loss, and even in the most mundane, everyday things.amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-90693812333063549592014-01-23T08:49:00.001-06:002014-01-23T08:49:40.529-06:00Really? REALLY?!?I can't believe it, but I've become THAT person. I've become the person that can't talk to you until she has her first sip of coffee. This morning confirmed it.<br />
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It's my husband's birthday. His BIRTHday. I LOVE birthdays. Love them like Jessica Day loves them. (Did you SEE this week's ep of New Girl? SPOILER ALERT: Bearclaw was back!) But today, I could barely utter the words Happy Birthday upon awakening. <br />
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I also couldn't "talk in my normal" voice to my kids until that first sip. What's "talk in my normal voice, " you're asking? Well, it's my "not mean voice," according to #1. My mean voice is stern and serious, while my normal voice is lilting, fun, and well, not mean. I felt horrible, but as soon as that first sip was taken, I was talking in my normal voice.<br />
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WHAT HAS BECOME OF ME??? I can't believe it. This is horrible. I'm THAT person. I used to just be the little kid in the back of my dad's sweet maroon Buick LeSabre, riding along the highway with him and mom and broham, thinking the coffee he had smelled so good, but the taste was BLECH! I used to make fun of my mom for drinking so much coffee everyday, but now I can't even use normal voice without it!?! <br />
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I will say this. I'm still at one cuppa day (unless it's a bad one). The Starbucks VIA instant cups are quite delicious AND affordable (about 80 cents/cup if you get the 50 value pack I do). <br />
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However, if you get me out and about in the morning, and I'm within ten miles of a Starbucks, I'll go out of my way to get my iced grande non-fat triple mocha with extra ice and no whip (try ordering that three times fast). That order, my friends, is a little bit more than 80 cents.<br />
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I guess all I have to do is set my alarm earlier, so I can get that first sip in before anyone else wakes up...then I can awaken them with my normal voice.<br />
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And, let's end with Bearclaw!!!<br />
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<br />amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-90959663644268242572014-01-22T18:00:00.000-06:002014-01-22T18:00:12.945-06:00Before They Were "Stars"Or at least before they were infamous (...you know, like El Guapo). <br />
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This is the Thicke I love:<br />
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He was so smooth. His hair so long and luscious. He didn't wear SHOES! Now he's this...well, wait, I'm not going to put what he is now, cause I risk having an image of Miley Cyrus on this. <br />
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His stuff is still aiight, but his first album was EPIC. I bought his second and third, but the quality dwindled, as did my interest. Just know I knew him when he was Thicke...JUST Thicke.<br />
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This is the Shia I love:<br />
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAND, AGAIN:<br />
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Goofy. Lovable. So funny that his antics made a 20 year old college student tune in every week to his Disney Channel show. Oh, and he was NOT crazy or plagiaristic:<br />
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Ugh. Why can't we all just be ourselves? (Unless you're a Timberlake wannabe or a crazy non-writer.)<br />
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P.S. I credit this post to my cousin, since she posted a shot of her car playin' her some "Shooter" from Thicke's A Beautiful World. I'll say it again: EP. IC. If you only know Blurred Lines, you owe it to yourself to listen to his 2003 debut.amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-9226697593527057002014-01-01T09:51:00.000-06:002014-01-01T09:51:02.073-06:002013: YEAR IN REVIEW, YO!<b>BABIES!!! </b>Three of our closest friends welcomed new babies this year--ALL GIRLS. When we got news of an unexpected, BUT WELCOMED, #3 in March the QuadFecta was complete. Four awesome guys getting four awesome babies in 2013...and yes, ours is a girl, too. ;)<b> </b><br />
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<b>Quest! </b>It's my church. It's awesome. It's a CONSTANT source of friendship, love, and reminders of God's grace and acceptance. I love my church home with all my heart and thank God for first bringing me there for a sermon series at a MOVIE THEATER eight years ago. (How could I not fall in love with Quest after that!?)<b> </b><br />
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<b>GSLIS! </b>I DID IT! In March I got word that I was accepted into the University of Illinois' Graduate School of Library and Information Science. It's the #1 LIS school in the country, so I had my doubts on if they'd accept me. I'm on the road to becoming a school librarian, and I'm already brainstorming things to do with "my" library. Oh, and straight A's for semester #1 wasn't too shabby either. <br />
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<b>Broadchurch! </b>David Tennant ain't just a Doctor. Broadchurch was PERFECT crime drama. It was elegant, sophisticated, kept you guessing (and texting throughout the show's finale if you were me), and a completely welcomed surprise. The best part? It knew its end. It didn't delay, didn't stretch out, was just timed perfectly and then done. Too bad they're doing a Season 2 and an American re-do. (Even with Tennant and Anna Gunn, how good could it be?)<br />
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<b>Robbie Swings Again!</b> Did you listen to Swings Both Ways? YOU DIDN'T!?!? I. Am. OUTRAGED. It was devilishly delightful: a perfect combo of old swing and new swing. Just awesome. I'm just sad I don't get to see him in Glasgow this summer. Will it EVER happen??? I'm beginning to have SERIOUS doubts. <br />
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<b>Who, Who, and MORE Who! </b>Could 2013 have smashed in more Who if it tried??? Prolly not. Oh, and the return of MY Doctor...AND the return of #8! Just wonderful. Loved the 50th anny special, loved all the BBC America documentaries throughout the year, and LOVED the return of Tennant. Oh, wait...already said that.<br />
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<b>New Girl!</b> Don't judge me. I'm just watching it now. It's new to me, old to you, and absolutely fabulous. I want Schmidt to be my homeboy all day long, son! And, don't be offended with that picture! You gotta do what you gotta do to shower sometimes.<br />
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<b>BABY #3!!! </b> Gonna show her the world in 2014, one show at a time. Gilmore Girls, Friday Night Lights, Smallville, and, going against the grain, Matt Smith Who. Why Mr. Smith? Cause I really need to re-watch his arc. It was so wibbly wobbly that I didn't get half of it the first time around. One thing I know won't change, though is my opinion on his finale. Dude deserved MUCH BETTER. Much. Better. Moffat, this might have been your first mis-step. Oh, we'll also cuddle the heck outta her, love her, shower her with kisses, and just make her the perfect fifth to what we thought was a sublime four.amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-74847663864510375482013-12-31T17:43:00.000-06:002013-12-31T19:27:10.831-06:00Every Party Has a PooperIt's New Year's Eve. Maybe my most unfavorite holiday of the year...well, definitely. It means the end of Christmas and the end of Hallmark Original Christmas Movies. It means the end of sparkly lights, jolly holiday cheer, and the BEST time of the year. I'm usually a mess on New Year's Eve, and since Dick Clark's passing it's even worse. (As if Seacrest could EVER replace that legendary man.) On New Year's Eve, I try to make it a point to be at a party, with friends and wonderful Husband, but since that isn't in the cards this year, I'm forced to improvise...with a few important things, I'm sure this will be the BEST NYE in a long while. I got three things in my corner that will help me overcome the depressing nature of this night: loads of pizza, a supremely handsome husband, and THREE beautiful children.<br />
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Pizza: Husband and Son have gone out to procure an obscene amount of pizza. I will eat so much pizza I become sick. That means I'll be focused on the pizza instead of the end of the holiday season.<br />
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Husband: He's handsome...downright so. And in the last nine months he's been just simply AMAZING. Taking care of me in my pregnant state, which was challenging this time, since I was also continually walking my large self around campus attending classes, trying to fulfill an assistantship, and pursuing a second Master's in Library Science. He's also been taking care of all FOUR of us since #3 has entered our world. This has been A LOT of work, since my C-Section has limited my mobility and usefulness around the house. He is a CHAMPION HUSBAND/FATHER/FRIEND. I love him.<br />
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THREE Children: They are all beautiful, lovable, and complete blessings. I can't believe how blessed we are. They are just the bee's knees. Words cannot describe how much I love them.<br />
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Pegg & Frost and McCarthy & Bullock: Well, I didn't mention these earlier. They are the fourth and fifth I have in my arsenal to help make this evening fly by with loveliness. Pegg as in Simon; McCarthy as in Melissa. Husband and I are having an "At Home Date" after the big kids are asleep when we'll eat said pizza...large quantities of...and watch At World's End and The Heat IF I can convince Husband. He is not a fan of female antics, but I really, REALLY want to watch this gem to ring in the New Year.<br />
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I'll be signing off for now. If you like NYE...well, good for you. Hopefully by the end of this night I'll enjoy it a little bit more with my Arsenal of Five Wonderful Things to see me through.amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-91518446864714001142013-12-10T09:21:00.000-06:002013-12-10T09:21:24.002-06:00It Was ALL a PloyIn March of this year, we got a surprise: I was pregnant again! Or, was it...<br />
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You know what the BEST part about having a baby in December is? (Cause now since I have TWO December babies I feel that I'm qualified to write on this subject...) HALLMARK. CHRISTMAS. MOVIES.<br />
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Yup. Absolutely. Nothing else having to do with smelling sweet heavenly baby scent or cuddling a wee bairn or seeing your two oldest become completely smitten with their new sister. Yeah, it was NOTHING to do with any of those things. It's all about the 24-hour-per-day Hallmark Christmas movies. Oh...I have to go "feed" the baby...and watch more Christmas movies. Be back in about...uh...45 minutes. <br />
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And, what happens between the hours of 9 am and 1 pm, when Hallmark Channel has on a double bill of their two-hour morning talk show, Home and Family? Well, that's easy: Get a Christmas movie out of my Christmas Movie Bin. What, you DON'T have one? <br />
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See, the joy of watching a HCM is that you can tune in at any time and know the plot within seconds...which is always the same. You can settle in for an entire viewing, a few minutes when baby needs calmed down in the rocker, or for a mid-range 40-minute feed session. You'll still walk away from the screen satisfied, saccharined out, and oh-so-jolly. <br />
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Yes, it's all been a ploy. Surprise pregnancy just to get extra time to watch Christmas movies in December. I love Christmas THAT much, y'all. <br />
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P.S. <a href="http://www.hallmarkchannel.com/fircrazy">Fir Crazy</a> is definitely in the early run for best new Hallmark Christmas Movie of 2013. I've already seen it twice...well most of it twice...and I LURVE it. <br />
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<br />amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-58143574128977636782013-11-30T18:13:00.003-06:002013-11-30T19:55:23.693-06:00The BEST Time of the YearIt's here. The Christmas season is OFFICIALLY here. Thanksgiving is over, and my oh my it came late this year! It is my firm belief that one should wait until AFTER Thanksgiving to put up Christmas decorations. (Well, if you live in the US that is. If I was one of my UK friends, you can bet your sweet bippy that our halls would've been decked long ago...like mid-November.) There is a small problem with my steadfast rule in our house this year, though...a VERY small problem.<br />
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That "problem" is BABY. As in newborn baby. As in coming this Friday (hopefully, God willing, she can wait that long). As in, when will we put up our tree(s)!?! <br />
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Over the last couple of days as I've seen more and more friends post pictures of their halls decked to the nines on Facebook, I've become jealous of their sparkling trees in their houses. I'm also scared of the fact that for the first time in a long time I have no idea when we'll be putting up the tinsel and holly. I love the pictures, but it's made me a little sad, though...until I kicked myself in the rear and got myself back on track. <br />
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Our end of November/beginning of December is PACKED: my birthday, our anniversary, #2's birthday, and welcoming new baby are all taking place within a couple of weeks of each other. It's CRAY-CRAY!..But, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm going to have to learn to live with this craziness, and I can't wait to continue to learn to be more patient about putting up Christmas decorations as the years go by. Celebrating our babies' lives will ALWAYS come first, and the decorations will have to come second...as it should be. <br />
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Happy Holidays to all and happy Baby Time to us!<br />
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P.S. I had to choose this picture for this post, because Mr. Lincoln's pained expression is a perfect representation of how I feel. Yay! It's Christmas! Crap! I don't know when the halls will be decked! Aw, just get over it!amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-68827504138104320572013-11-22T15:52:00.001-06:002013-11-22T15:52:16.606-06:0011/22/63I write this to you on the 50th Anniversary of John F. Kennedy's assassination. I was not there that day. I was not even a twinkle in my parents' eyes: one was 11, and one was 15. I can't imagine what that day must have been like: the isolation, fear, and sense of safety completely stripped away from an entire country with the sound of a couple of gunshots ringing through the Dallas air. <br />
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I haven't been back to this ole blog in quite some time...so many things have come up, as they often do in life. Continuing on the journey to motherhood for a third time, going back to school full time, completing a library assistantship, soaking up the absolute joy of hearing my first two laugh and play together, while still trying to be a good wife and housekeeper have kept me busy. OH SO BUSY! It's been a struggle to keep up with life throughout this semester of school, but today has made me stop and breathe and try to figure out our history of as a nation since that day 50 years ago when JFK was killed.<br />
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I don't have any answers. I haven't figured anything out.<br />
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I do know this, though. Even though this event took place 16 years before I was born, I was affected by it. I grew up knowing what it was almost instinctively. When I grew up, it was still a part of the national consciousness, so much so that it's one of those events that I have always "just known about." I grew up secretly seeking out information about JFK, the Kennedys, and what happened that day. I grew up looking at pictures of John, Jr: him jogging in NYC, trying to ditch photographers, and then trying to grapple with the fact that he was taken from this earth even earlier than his father. The Kennedys definitely held a mythic sway over me when I was young, and they do even to this day. <br />
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Things definitely changed that day. Innocence was lost. Feelings of pessimism, doubt, and sarcasm took over our national being. Sad to say, we'll never be the same. I wish I lived in Pleasantville, but I don't. Maybe that's why I cry when I see vintage reels of Walter Cronkite announce Kennedy's death: I want to live in a time of humbleness and simplicity so much that it chokes me up. Sure, I wouldn't have this blog to type away on every now and again, but maybe we'd all be a little bit happier as a nation.<br />
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<br />amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-27947197326821141902013-08-15T21:04:00.001-05:002013-08-15T21:14:01.597-05:00When My Two Worlds CollidedTo begin...two very simple facts about me: I love Elvis. I love Robbie Williams.<br />
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A third fact that not many know: Robbie Williams loves Elvis. (Huge Hint #1: His tattoo that begs ELVIS GRANT ME SERENITY. Huge Hint #2: He's claimed to pray to Elvis before shows to give him guts, though I don't know if that still happens, since the claim was made over a decade ago in the 2002 documentary Nobody Someday.) <br />
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The third fact makes the second fact more rigid and fundamental to my musical being.<br />
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My two musical worlds--classic, original rock n roll and new, thought-provoking-cynical-snappy pop--collided in 2005 with the release of Mr. Williams' video for his single Advertising Space (off of Intensive Care, which MIGHT be my favorite album from him--though his newest effort, Take the Crown, is making a run for the money).<br />
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Robbie's video for the single was a love letter to Elvis: he was an Elvis impersonator playing to an empty house Bingo crowd (which had to have been in Blackpool), trying to kiss a mannequin that resembled Priscilla on Vegas Wedding Day 1967, and ultimately leaving the pub downtrodden and rather defeated...sadly, kind of like the King himself. <br />
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I love this homage Robbie paid to E. I loved his pompadour, his hip-shakin' moves, and his silk EP monogrammed shirt, gold lame, AND '68 Comeback Special suits. Rob hit all the right notes to let Elvis fans know that he is in fact one, too. (He even had a blazing bullet blow out a TV screen! Classic.) Check out the amazing video...and song...<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AHU-8yb11CQ">HERE</a>. <br />
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And, why post this now??? Tomorrow is the 36th anniversary of Elvis' passing THAT'S WHY. amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32082108.post-88580492473751231822013-08-02T14:02:00.002-05:002013-08-02T14:34:43.068-05:00NKOTB=LOVEOne June 30 I had another chance to see the greatest boyband* of all time...New Kids on the Block. In preparation I did several things: made an NKOTB playlist for iPod and had my kids listen to it (they now sing along with (You Got It) The Right Stuff); read their OFFICIAL biography by Nikki Von Noy (sort of enlightening but really just a fun read); brushed off my dance moves and got my screaming voice in tune. <br />
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Here are a few things I've pondered about the 5 Bad Brothers from the Beantown Land over the past couple of months.<br />
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1. I am 33, and I think a small part of me is still in love with Jordan Knight. Sad but true.<br />
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And, he also proves that men get better with age. (SHEESH. I really thought that top picture was H-O-T-T.)<br />
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2. Have you ever REALLY studied and looked at the cover of Hangin' Tough? I mean...it's kinda epic...for a boyband that is. They ain't no cheesy posing. No peace signs (those would come later, especially for Donnie D). No arms wrapped around theyselves in a self-hug (you know what I mean). Just five young guys on an NYC subway looking forward to their futures...that would be super bright.<br />
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3. 1988-1991 felt like an ETERNITY to my young self, but those 2 1/2 years of fame must have gone WAY too quickly for those five guys. From nothing to everything to a joke. It's sad how the entertainment industry savors someone for a second and then spits them out like they were the most disgusting thing they EVER ate. I am not a fan of the likes of Justin Bieber, but I still feel badly for him and those like him when they are discarded so easily from the walls and hearts of teenagers and fan magazines.<br />
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4. I have been trying to figure out why I still cheer for NKOTB so hard. I think it comes down to this: I am a kid at heart. My mother instilled this in me. I still gleefully wait for Santa to come to my house, and I will always remember the first NKOTB biography I bought at Pages for All Ages bookstore. (It was with a birthday gift card, and my cousin and NKOTB sister, Kendra, was by my side, helping me pick juuuuuuust the right one.) They are a part of my childhood, a part of some of my happiest memories, so I am always going to love them.<br />
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5. My biggest question I've been thinking about: When, OH WHEN, will they be in residence in VEGAS!?! CAN YOU IMAGINE??? I mean, seriously...the Manilow, Donny & Marie, Celine...it is just a matter of time. I would MAKE my husband take me on his yearly pilgrimage to Sin City if the boys had a theater and nightly show. I wouldn't even try to get in on his male bonding fun. You'd know where to find me: at the pool, at the show, or sleeping off last night's fun with the Beantown Boys.<br />
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I will probably never meet these guys that have played such a pivotal role in my life. And, I guess that's OK. I mean, they couldn't be as great, kind, giving, and selfless as their biography made them out to be...<br />
or could they?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*NOTE: I do NOT count the Beatles as a boyband. I simply count them as the greatest BAND of all time. In fact, if you think about it, NKOTB really did set the standard for what a boyband is today. </span>amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296994939309970158noreply@blogger.com0