tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29230820603368641352024-03-12T20:16:23.875-07:00Embracing all the Parts of Motherhood....Except the Mom-Jeans"There's only one pretty child in the world and every mother has it"
-Chinese ProverbV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.comBlogger122125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-65274495780596425442012-12-17T08:35:00.000-08:002012-12-17T08:35:37.883-08:00Code Red <b>Blog Dare Day #15</b>: Her frantic motions...<br />
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When I'm trying to check out at the store freak me out. She can be running circles around me, mesmerized my candy, chips or soda lurking at the checkout, or any number of other things. Losing sight of her those few seconds terrify me. She's little. She's fast. And it's my job to literally have eyes in the back of head. No easy feat.<br />
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For the record I'm pro shopping cart & treats to keep her sitting, quiet might be asking too much.<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-80064652138240029302012-12-17T08:22:00.001-08:002012-12-17T08:22:58.385-08:00The Name Game<b>Blog Dare Day #14</b>: If I could have chosen my first name...<br />
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I would have picked Laura. At a young age I was a fan of the Spanish pronunciation. I remember sharing this with my mom and she said no one would enunciate it like that. Supportive, huh?! Kidding. But hey a girl can dream right...<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-68644322740293671512012-12-17T06:43:00.000-08:002012-12-17T08:23:17.597-08:00That Big Bird in the Sky <b>Blog Dare Day #13</b>: The flight attendant said...<br />
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I have yet to fly with my daughter. To be honest it scares the shit out of me! I feel like it would either be great or the most miserable experience ever. She's yet to meet my father so maybe 2013 will be the year we conquer this fear. I just don't want to be the parent with the kid crying the entire flight. Tears happen. I get it.<br />
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But with age comes understanding and I can tell already at the ripe old age of three she is understanding things better everyday. Besides they're called the friendly skies, right?<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-79908908125555615852012-12-14T18:33:00.000-08:002012-12-14T18:33:38.329-08:00To the Newbies <b>Blog Dare Day #12</b>: What I want new mothers to know...<br />
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You're going to be fine. You're gonna figure it out. Love every second of that first year. Hug that baby. Breathe in that sweet smell. Take LOTS of pictures (and videos)!<br />
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I love babies. If I could have one and not take on the life after the first year I totally would. I know I'm equal parts crazy and selfish but looking back I don't think I enjoyed it as much as I should have.<br />
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Block out the criticism. Really just turn the volume down. Your way is the right way in spite of thinking, feeling or hearing that it isn't. There's nothing a good cry won't make feel better. Connect with other moms to confide in, vent to & have fun with!<br />
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XOXO<br />
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<br />V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-81334613274516620272012-12-14T17:27:00.000-08:002012-12-14T17:28:53.742-08:00The Bigger the Bow the Better the Mommy <b>Blog Dare Day #11</b>: I seem to be collecting...<br />
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Ribbon. It seems recently that every time I buy Elle an outfit my next thought is she needs a bow in her hair. I need to organize because at the moment it's not very efficient. It's also in the worst place possible, her closet. Until recently she didn't give it a second thought but she's discovered how much fun it is to play with. You try telling a three year old that she can't play with something, yeah good luck with that. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Which basically means more work for yours truly.</span><br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-6186277604110009372012-12-14T16:56:00.002-08:002012-12-14T16:56:50.491-08:00Those Old Things <b>Blog Dare Day #10</b>: The old pair of (item of clothing) that I just can't part with<br />
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I have a favorite pair of jeans from high school still in my possession. They were my absolute faves! I don't actually remember the last time I even wore them. I just know that I'm never getting rid of them.<br />
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XOXO <br />
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<br />V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-4066918056686405162012-12-14T16:50:00.001-08:002012-12-14T16:50:51.446-08:00One Big Let Down <b>Blog Dare Day #9</b>: I was certain that I would disappoint...<br />
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Everyone. When I found out I was pregnant. I remember reluctantly going to Publix on my lunch break. The butterflies in my stomach as I waited for the results. Crying in my car and feeling like a big fat loser. Mind you I was twenty eight at the time. But good girls don't get knocked up.<br />
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I survived nine months of pregnancy. I did it minus the support of a significant other. I wasn't always nice. I wasn't always happy. I didn't take enough pictures. I wasn't sure I could really do it. But somehow I figured it out and here I am still figuring it out & not even able to remember what life was like before I became a mom. Some days it's a dream and others a nightmare but I wouldn't change any of it.<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-55620903375629194842012-12-08T10:32:00.000-08:002012-12-08T10:32:12.759-08:00Let Her Eat Cake! <b>Blog Dare Day #8</b>: The look on her face made it all worth it.<br />
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A little over a week ago Elle celebrated her third birthday. It was a day filled with lots of fun, cookies for school, a happy meal for lunch, presents, home made spaghetti & meatballs for dinner and finished with a three layer cake. PS-Maybe now that I'm all caught up with this I can write a post in greater detail about the day!<br />
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This is the year she gets it. There was anticipation & excitement leading up to the big day. Her <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">most asked request was for cake. She looked for it in the gift bag her Godmother gave her. It was so funny, she moved the tissue paper around and everything. She woke up asking for her cake. And when she finally saw it her eyes lit up! It was a proud moment for me. She was happy and that made all the work making it worth it. It was no easy feat and it's just my nature to see the imperfections versus patting myself on the back but you know what I did it and it wasn't leaning. *high five mom* </span><br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-35255936181153426112012-12-08T05:10:00.000-08:002012-12-08T05:10:37.680-08:00Wait, Mom said No and Meant it???<b>Blog Dare Day #7</b>: I finally gave in and...<br />
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Two words: Got. Tough. That's right no more "soft mom" over here! When I say no, I mean no. When I say it's time for night-night, I mean it's time for night-night. When I ask Elle to do something she's more than capable of doing, I want it done.<br />
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My tolerance for tears and behavior that falls under crazy pants is at an all time high. There was a time when the tears bothered me. I gave in more than I should have. Mainly for my own personal peace but you know what tears happen. Sometimes you hear no & have to do things you don't necessarily want to. It's called life the last time I checked.<br />
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In Elle's defense (and my fantastic parenting) she has manners. She uses please and thank you often. We're working on excuse me. And everyday at afternoon carpool when the teacher has walked her to the car she says, "thank you very much," which is followed by praise from mommy for being so polite!<br />
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With Christmas break quickly approaching we will be tackling potty training. Wish us luck. Send prayers. And feel free to leave comments as to what worked for you! Guess we're adding when I say go potty like a big girl, I mean it! Oh, if it were that easy she'd be fully potty trained!<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-3958348329351043412012-12-07T12:17:00.001-08:002012-12-07T12:17:52.139-08:00You Think you Know but you Have no Idea<b>Blog Dare Day #6</b>: I don't think you understand...<br />
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How much I hate having to bring my daughter with me to the store. Any store for that matter no need to get specific. They each offer there own version of torture. Grocery. Retail. Mall.<br />
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Yesterday was a not so friendly reminder of this truth of mine. We went to Target and I tweeted, "braving Target with my mini me." First problem, they don't have the "fun" shopping cart. I was able to sidetrack her with the promise of popcorn. Throw in a water and she is happily seated in the shopping cart. We browse, pick up a few things & head to the checkout. Now by this time she's asked to walk and help push the cart. You know nothing good is going to come from this right? We get to the checkout & she asks for m&m's, her favorite. I say no. This is when the crash and burn happens.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">We exit Target holding hands & Elle in complete hysterics. Oh, I should throw in the nice lady checking us out asked permission and then offered Elle a sticker. A sticker that she said she didn't want to wear, ripped off her shirt and attempted to throw on the floor. Class act, huh? I get her in the car </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">and spend the next 20 or so minutes being tortured by the sounds of screaming with a little arm and leg flailing. You know just so she was sure she was getting her point across. For a moment I considered joining her and crying myself. Then I snapped out of it. I'm the mom! So I laughed and snapped a couple pictures as you can see. </span><br />
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We got home. I ordered her up the stairs and to her room. She asked for a hug. So I snuggled with her. Um, I'm not a monster. Soon enough she was snoring and I lived to tell about this one time I wanted to do things to my kid you only confide in your closest of mom friends. Whew!<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-42012036097204326632012-12-07T11:36:00.000-08:002012-12-07T11:38:16.589-08:00Looking back to Move Forward <b>Blog Dare Day #5</b>: What I had hoped to accomplish with my blog in 2012<br />
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For help with where to start I went and read my first post of 2012. It's littered with hope and optimism. Here I am just a few weeks from the beginning of a new year and the best way to sum it up is, life happened. I don't really do as good as I should when it comes to doing things for me. I'm positive I'm not alone on suffering from the "-itis." The I-can't-do-this-because-itis. I'd say my go to excuse is being tired. Selfishly wanting to enjoy my favorite time of day, Elle's naptime. I can spend quality time with the DVR. You know watching non-animated programming. I can eat lunch. Like uninterrupted and enjoy chewing. I can nap myself. Sometimes I'm not smushed to the edge of the bed or have ninja feet digging into my back.<br />
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It's the little things like that that stop me from being the badass mom blogger that I know is lurking just below the surface. Participating in this months blog dare is serving as a rehab of sorts. I'm behind BUT I havent given up! It's kinda nice to be reunited with the black & white keys even if I am doing it from my iPhone.<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-34085857328503697922012-12-07T11:12:00.000-08:002012-12-07T12:19:21.371-08:00A Little Kindness goes a Long Way<b>Blog Dare Day #4</b>: Acts of Kindess<br />
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Last spring I joined my local chapter of the Junior League. It's proven to be rewarding in more ways than I ever thought it would be. I've met some really great women from all walks of life who are the definition of kindness.<br />
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This week was our Breakfast with Santa, we visited 144 preschoolers. They got to have their picture taken<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> with Santa & got a snazzy sweater commemorating the day. For the children that were absent, they were left a photo of Santa & sweater, so that no one was left out! I took the role of classroom coordinator and got each class and got to see the first of the excitement on there faces. It was precious! We're actually returning to drop off Christmas presents too! This time of year can be so hard for some many families. This experience really reminded me of that and I went an bought a few more toys since we haven't made our goal yet.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3spo02ZSIW0/UMJPG7A2PPI/AAAAAAAAAs0/XtwRX8CRwp0/s1600/photo101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3spo02ZSIW0/UMJPG7A2PPI/AAAAAAAAAs0/XtwRX8CRwp0/s320/photo101.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">The first time I got the warm fuzzies that doing something you know is benefiting someone else was when I was a part of our Book Brigade committee. Every year we visit ten elementary schools in our county and give a book to all the third grade students. It was so awesome to see their faces light up when they walked away with a book of their very own! One class even wrote us thank you letters, it was so sweet!</span><br />
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<br />V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-44690770342772259012012-12-05T07:01:00.001-08:002012-12-12T18:33:49.347-08:00Single Now but...NOT for Long! We’re so excited to be writing a guest piece for Too Cute for Mom Jeans. It’s fantastic to be allowed loose on someone else’s blog however there is a problem. You need to think about what you write. Now I’m a guy, who runs a dating site or two…I know very little about moms…So I looked at what we had in common. Hint - it’s always in the title. I love people who are too cute for moms jeans! <br />
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So with that in mind Singles Warehouse, the place to <a href="http://www.singleswarehouse.net/" target="_blank">meet singles</a> in the United States is going to give some fantastic top tips for moms who are getting back into the dating pool. We hope you like them and would love to hear your comments.<br />
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<strong>Top Tip 1<em>:</em></strong> Pick the right time</div>
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If you’ve just come out of a relationship or possibly not quite over the situation then it’s probably not the right time to start dating again. You need to give yourself time to heal so that when a new partner enters your life they have a chance to dazzle you and make you happy.<br />
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<strong>Top Tip 2</strong>: Pick the right picture</div>
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OK we all know you are too cute for mom jeans however there is one dating site no no. Your first picture needs to be one of just you. Leave the little ones out of it (for the moment). Trust needs to be built up before you show any potential pictures to a date. Also they need to get to know you first. Never lie about having children (why would anyone want to right?) but there is no need to have a picture publicly available for people to download.</div>
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<strong>Top Tip 3</strong>: Respond to all messages</div>
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It’s a well known fact that pictures on a profile increase it’s interaction level by about 10 times what it would have been before. What that means is that you will be bombarded with messages. Try your best to respond to all of them. Sure not everyone will be what you are looking for but by responding you give the chance of conversation to show other sides of the person.<br />
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<strong>Top Tip 4</strong>: Do a search</div>
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Simple right? Online dating sites have great search functions. If you are looking to chat to single parents then consider just ticking that box. You’ve signed up after all, you might as well give it a shot.<br />
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So there you have it, 4 tips for moms getting back into dating. We hope you’ve enjoyed them and would love to hear from you.<br />
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V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-56050926852396727922012-12-03T18:24:00.000-08:002012-12-03T18:24:33.272-08:00Santa, are you there? It's me...<b>Blog Dare Day #3: </b>What we tell (or don't tell) the kids about Santa Claus.<br />
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I don't know what the right answer is. I realize it varies from family to family but I see it two ways. For the first we'll have to take a ride down memory lane. I was in elementary school, in the girls bathroom and a bomb was dropped on me. There was no Santa. Wait. Did I hear that right? I took it in and kept "my truth" to myself. I was telling my mom this story today and we laughed hysterically! Then there's the part of me that doesn't want the focus of Christmas to be all about this Santa guy and the presents he brings. Then it dawns on me that a lot kids are aware of Santa and I don't want to have the "jerk kid" who goes around raining on other children's Santa parade. That just doesn't seem very fair.<br />
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I've considered talking to some of the moms at my church and seeing how they balance Santa baby & baby Jesus. Balancing the traditions of the advent & the happiness that guy in the red suit brings (and at one time brought me).<br />
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XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-49289792836559514712012-12-03T13:49:00.000-08:002012-12-03T13:49:04.152-08:00A little snow. A lot of crazy. <b>Blog Dare Day #2</b>: When snow begins to fall...<br />
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Luckily the part of the US we live in snow is not a normal occurrence. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> When the weatherman or woman speaks the word snow it's a mad dash to the grocery store. The bread & water are the first to go and I guess it's a toss up as to what's next. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">It did snow a few years ago. It's fun for pictures and to look at but that's about it. I'm not tough enough for it. High fives all around for those of you who are! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">XOXO</span>V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-64378481321615615052012-12-03T13:17:00.000-08:002012-12-03T13:17:13.772-08:00Close your eyes. Make a wish. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px;"><b>Blog Dare Day #1</b>: My holiday wish...</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">When it comes to anything "I want" it can be found bringing up the rear on my "to do list." It's just one of the things I've come to accept kinda like picking up toys several times a day with a smile. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Now that Elle is three she gets Christmas. More like she can clearly enunciate it & refers to it as "her Christmas." I'm not sure she's aware that presents are involved. I want this to be the year we start family traditions. Church will be involved. I might live on the edge and not drop her off in the nursery. I'm hopeful that between a coloring book, me & the holy spirit she can successfully make it through an hour long service. We'll sing Happy Birthday to Jesus! I'm going to do some more research into traditions & add a couple more. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">My wish is for Elle to know & begin understanding that Christmas is about much more than gifts. It's about being thankful, love and giving with an open heart. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">XOXO</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span></div>
V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-23391831276018580662012-11-05T14:29:00.000-08:002012-11-05T14:30:39.320-08:00Dear Vanessa Past <b>Today's Prompt</b>: Write a letter to your 14-year-old self. Tomorrow, write a letter I yourself in 20 years.<br />
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The year was 1996. I had just relocated to the place I've come to call home. I was a high school freshman. And I shaved my legs for the very first time!<br />
<br />
Vanessa,<br />
<br />
You don't know this, not the way that you should but you are smart, you are beautiful and you are talented in ways you've yet to discover. Life is full of happy and sad, ups and downs, successes and regrets. Learn from each and every one of them. Love appears when you least expect it from the unlikeliest of candidates. Embrace it. Heartbreak happens. Cry. Feel it. But don't wait too long to do it again, as crazy as it sounds.<br />
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College is going to be one of the best times of your life. Live it! Don't be afraid. Figure out who you are & what you want. Don't stop until you're that person and you're where you want to be. No one can make you happier or love you more than you can! Always remember that. Always. People are going to come into your life and the ones that are meant to be there will. For the rest remember the good times and let it go. Don't hold on. Don't make excuses.<br />
<br />
PS-Quit being a<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> people pleaser! And stop with all the self depreciating! Oh, mistakes. They happen.</span><br />
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Always be that sweet girl. Hold on to her fiercely! Don't let anything or anyone change that. If you do it's going to be harder then I can possibly put into words to find again. Love all the things that make you, you. Your snort. Your laugh. Your height. Your awesome rack! And all the snarky, not so nice bits that only a select few will ever see. Own it. Love it. Every last bit.<br />
<br />
<i>"This is my wish for you: Comfort on your difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, hugs when your spirits sag, beauty for your eye to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, love to complete your life" </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
XOXO<br />
<br />
<br />V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-27540919030045158682012-11-02T02:58:00.000-07:002012-11-02T02:58:30.859-07:00Me & My Other BFF<b>Today's Prompt</b>: When is the last time you felt really, truly lonely? <br />
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So technically I should have wrote this yesterday however I like to think that I march to the beat of my own drum. It probably goes more like I didn't come across this until late in the day. I had a Junior League commitment, didn't get home from that until close to 8:00pm, ate dinner and put my daughter to bed which in theory is putting myself to bed. And here I find myself at 5:30am, playing catch up & jamming to the Afrojack Pandora station. But now back to the task at hand...<br />
<br />
If I were being honest which is what I think one should be when blogging then my answer would be simple. I struggle with loneliness. There I said it or rather typed it, same difference...right? Right. Let's take it back to the beginning for an example of sorts. Me & my "real life" bestie met men who would end up playing key roles in our lives on the same day at the same place. Press fast forward and you have me: The girl who had her whole world change after one passion filled romp. See example A, my beautiful daughter. And then you have her: The girl who found her husband. Yeah, take a minute. Go on and choke that one down. PS-I love my bestie. I'm her maid honor. I couldn't be happier for her. <br />
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I'm "the mom" in my circle of friends. I know one day that won't be the case. I also know that if you were to look at my facebook page you'd see pictures of me out, about and having a good time. True enough. But be lonley hits when it's quite, my daughters sleeping, on a rare occassion I'm in the car alone and it's just me, myself & I. No one wins playing the "what if" game. What if I didn't pregnant? What if I had a significant other? What if, what if, what if? This is all I know. Doing it alone. I also just hit the big 3-0 and it's left me in a really weird space & trying to figure out what's going to make me happy. I am not sure what the answer is as of yet. I just know that I want to be embracing this idea of living, loving life in my singlemotherdom [is that a word. I'm pretty sure not. The perks of blogging.] <br />
<br />
I'm not the first mom to be sitting at my computer and cry. I doubt I'm the last. But dammit if it doesn't feel good. <br />
<br />
XOXO <br />
V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-28082625193733258302012-09-06T12:11:00.000-07:002012-09-06T12:11:27.510-07:00A Little Spit ShineI envisioned my triumphant return to the keyboard happening under a different set of circumstances. It'd be me basically saying that life has been so fabulous finding the time to sit and write about it was just too much to ask for. The jet setting. The parties. The hobnobbing. <br />
<br />
Instead I find myself a wee bit pissed off and unlike times past I thought, "Why don't you just blog it out?" It's basically me talking to myself. Freeing myself of whatever garbage has piled up or on the flip side sharing the happy, funny & so on and so forth. On a side note, someone asked me yesterday if I was still blogging. It kind of caught me off guard but gave me even more of a push to make myself sit here and say you know what I'm having a shitty day. I think it can be more accurately described as a period of shit-tastic-ness. <br />
<br />
Living the glamorous life of a stay-at-home mom means that I live, eat and breathe my daughter, which conviently means eight [or so] times out of ten the reason I'm irritated in someway involves her [either directly or indirectly]. Today my mother was in charge of dropping and picking Elle up from preschool. I sent her text inquiring how drop off went, pretty much holding my breath that it went smoothly. Fortunately for all involved it did. Fast forward three hours and it's pick up time and the report back was <b>"very embarassing picking Elle up..." <br />
<i></i></b> Insert an expletive or two on my end along with a tear or two or three of frustation and their you have it. <br />
<br />
Elle is rounding the corner to her third birthday. She's not a demon baby. She's got quite a bit of spunk. A temper. She's bossy. Likes things done her way. And for those who know me I just described myself. Guess that's where the phrase "mini-me" came from, huh? She didn't come with instructions. I have no idea what I'm doing. I take that back I'm figuring it out as I go. I don't beat her. I have enforced a time out or two. We've had more "mini discussions" regarding her bad decision making skills than I can count. She's one smart tough cookie! She knows how she can act with who. She knows when she's done something wrong because she starts chirping that she's sorry. That in of itself shows intelligence. Tears come with the territory. She cries for any and every reason most of which tears aren't warranted but you try telling her that. It doesn't phase me. If we're out and she asks for something and the answer is no, which by the way rarely is then the waterworks ensue. Do I like it? No. Who wants to be the parent with the kid who's crying and screaming? Uh, no one! But it happens. I say stare or look away and tell yourself under your breathe that'll never be me. Which PS is a lie. It will be. But when it comes to my mother it's embarassing. She's claimed recently to not be phased by it but I know that if she could run away or pretend to not know us she would. I'm not offended at least not when I'm there to do the mothering. I haven't quite mastered being able to do that when I'm not there, like this afternoon. <br />
<br />
To add insult to injury she throws in <b>"if she's acting this way how does she behave in class?"<i></i></b> All I could think was "did you really just say that?"<br />
How about we go back and see how you behaved at this age. See that's the problem it's been what 1912 since she had little ones & she didn't play the role of disciplinarian. I'm judge, jury and treat giver. I have yet to actually hear the details of the horror that was the afternoon pick up. I'm sure we'll sit down and have a discussion what it will resolve exactly I have no idea. We mother different. We know this already. I'll listen with one ear open just in case. However, I did e-mail Elle's teacher just as a precaution. I assume that Elle's behavior isn't anything out of the ordinary. Tears. Not sharing. Having to repeat yourself. All seem par for the course. I am very curious to hear what she has to say. I promise to take it with an open mind and heart. Neither of which are easy but whatever needs to addressed should be so that we can continue to be a part of the preschool. She's got two years left and mom needs the three hour break! <br />
<br />
Holy crap, I feel better! Nothing a little venting can't fix...<br />
<br />
XOXO<br />
<br />
V.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-61764495988951487702012-01-26T11:04:00.000-08:002012-01-26T11:19:14.071-08:00Dream a Little, Dream of Me<strong>Day 23-The most vivid dream...</strong><br /><br />The most vivid dream I've had was about my daughter. I saw her attending "our" dream school. Yes, I've already visited and it was love at first sight. It's a private all girls school and it's everything I know she deserves. Come graduation these young women are going on to continued success both in and out of the classroom. I see it so clearly her in a uniform, getting dropped off at carpool, forging friendships, intelligence and extracurriculars. Brains and beauty, that's my girl! <br /><br />XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-61780616232213177682012-01-26T07:14:00.000-08:002012-01-26T07:24:59.418-08:00There's White Stuff Outside<strong>Day 22- Snow days...</strong><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MxtCE1XNFgo/TyFwBqT4_eI/AAAAAAAAAoY/Ab6eTlhLjMQ/s1600/164140_727295961133_23208858_40431855_1978176_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MxtCE1XNFgo/TyFwBqT4_eI/AAAAAAAAAoY/Ab6eTlhLjMQ/s320/164140_727295961133_23208858_40431855_1978176_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701961777067654626" /></a><br /><br />This is what snow days are all about! <br /><br />XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-47871991046652258192012-01-26T07:07:00.000-08:002012-01-26T07:13:47.581-08:00Christmastime reading...<strong>Day 21-An impactful book in my life</strong><br /><br />I read this book for a book club and think everyone should too! It's called <em>Christmas Jars </em>by Jason F. Wright. It's an easy read just a little over a hundred pages. It's about making what you have work. It's about paying it forward. It's inspiring...<br /><br />XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-56514848044107527142012-01-26T06:55:00.000-08:002012-01-26T07:04:14.680-08:00A Good Girl Gone Rouge<strong>Day 20-Something mischievous I did as a child</strong><br /><br />I was only grounded once in my tween years. I was in middle school and up until this fateful night was not only a member but president of the "goody two shoes." A title up until my college days fit like a puzzle piece. It was the weekend and instead of returning home like a good girl I opted to hang out with my friends. Innocent enough right? Not when you've got a dad that rules with an iron fist. I can even remember having one of those light up phones and having to turn the ringer off just to talk on it. Thank God for mothers that bend the rules a little for you. So back to me, the trouble maker; I didn't get home until it was dark....ohhhhh bad girl. I can't recall how long I was grounded for it was the look on my dad's face that sticks out the most. Needless to say I found my way back to the straight and narrow...<br /><br />XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-11079779313907177412012-01-23T11:32:00.000-08:002012-01-23T11:37:46.075-08:00Laughing leads to Peeing<div><strong>Day 19-The last time I laughed so hard, I cried</strong></div><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r4JrxG3nunU/Tx22GvZMHaI/AAAAAAAAAn4/bdCYtIdudG8/s1600/Copy%2Bof%2BNew%2BYears%2B2012%2B048.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700912930238504354" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r4JrxG3nunU/Tx22GvZMHaI/AAAAAAAAAn4/bdCYtIdudG8/s320/Copy%2Bof%2BNew%2BYears%2B2012%2B048.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Laughter is necessity in my life in instances like the above it keeps me from crying. This would be my daughter after finagling the lock off the bathroom cabinet, getting her paws on my make-up bag and well as you can see an enviable make-up application. Even just looking at it makes me laugh. She looks so happy and proud of herself, kind of hard to be mad at that! <br /><br />XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2923082060336864135.post-38579583246256135982012-01-23T10:30:00.000-08:002012-01-23T11:07:49.967-08:00Twenty-Three Days in...Sound the trumpets this my first "real blog" of the new year. As you've been following I've taken on a Blog Dare and am happy to report that I haven't fallen more than a few days behind at most; hence multiple posts on the same day. But that's neither here nor there...<br /><br />As I thought about how I wanted to approach my first post I wanted to find just the right mix of inspirational wit, it's kind of my thing or at least in the making; whatever...just go with it. Like most of us I did ponder some new years resolutions I'm happy to report I've hit full-grown adulthood being that weight loss didn't even register on my radar [insert happy "not-yet-at-ideal-weight" dance]. The way I see it I've been fatter and I know what I need to do. I'll be honest I'm mulling over re-joining Weight Watchers but in true procrastinator form [i.e. the deadline to join free isn't until March] I'm going to do a little more mulling. I don't want to sign up for failure. I became a scale obessed monster and even though I was feeling great and seeing a difference not having the scale reflect that was unacceptable. I want to set a realistic goal and commit to allowing the pounds to shed how they shed.<br /><br />Last year I decided instead of resolutions I would pick a word and use that to motivate me towards becoming a better Vanessa. I failed miserably however this year I'm giving it another go and my word is: <strong><em>thankful</em></strong>. It's easy to forget how much I have to be thankful for when things get tough or I'm in the middle of throwing a temper tantrum. I've already had moments where I've been able to reflect and see what I have to be thankful for; the goal however is to go there first as opposed to doing it in hindsight.<br /><br />As a parent it seems only appropriate to pick a word and it's going to be <strong><em>patience</em></strong>. I've got an independent, fiesty, trouble maker on my hands and the only way we'll both live to tell about it is with lots of the "p-word." Mothering a two year old requires an infinite supply...<br /><br />23 days down. Only 343 to go [it's a leap year, an extra day to get it right!]<br /><br />XOXOV.V.Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04893635486932612238noreply@blogger.com0