tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34584177867722690792024-03-05T09:40:53.745-07:004 babies 4 usFour babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.comBlogger157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-71518894659208100582013-02-11T01:18:00.004-07:002013-02-11T09:50:43.943-07:00Priceless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">A few days ago I took my weekly trip <span style="font-size: small;">to one of my least favorite places to visit, the grocery store. Fortunately for me, on this occasion I had a wonderful little shopping companion who volunteered to help with the task. Although I believe that the reason Jaxon likes to tag along has more to do with what treats he can find at the checkout than spending time with me, I'll take what I can get!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">On this particular occasion, I was only shopping for a few items so Jax was able to ride inside the cart. Upon reaching the checkout, I informed him that he may want to get out or they may charge me extra for the kid in the cart. "I wonder how much you cost?" I said while emptying the other items on to the conveyor belt. My darling blue eyed boy with the huge dimples looked at me and simply said "Mom, I'm priceless."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Yes, he is.</span><br />
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<br />Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-45280041577129722362012-11-24T11:31:00.000-07:002012-11-24T11:31:02.490-07:00All Together Now!<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanksgiving at my house was awesome. <span style="color: black; font-size: small;">My home, and heart, were so full I thought both would burst at the seams! Family and friends entertained us with their presence AND my little Carson was (and still is) home!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People Everywhere!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I really love my family!<br />
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> <span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Carson's time in the hospital</span> appears to have been a wise decision. He is on some medication for his anxiety and has learned some coping skills. I have also learned that I need to be more scheduled since he responds very well to having time prompts. I'm grateful to all the doctors who helped him and gave me back my sweet little guy.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson chatted with this aide for hours. He told her that the good thing about October was that it was Breast Cancer Awareness month. I think it is so cute that a ten year old would be concerned with women's health.We were waiting for a bed at the psychiatric hospital and he was loving all the attention at the Children's Hospital. Little did he know that it would all change when he changed hospitals...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson's first meal at the psychiatric hospital. He was not too happy that they brought him pizza on a plate that was smothered in peas. We had to get a second plate and separate the two. Still, dealing with the pea flavor on the pizza was not something he really wanted to do.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting a hug from his bestie, Mason, during visiting time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson in his room. He was not thrilled when he found out that there was not a TV there.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-size: large;">During his stay,</span> Carson went to group therapy, music therapy, art therapy, and met with social workers, psychologists, and psychiatrists. We came home with a clear plan and a support system. Carson will start a Day Treatment program on Monday. I think we may be able to get our insurance to pay for five days. That should be long enough to really reinforce his new skills, and teach him some additional ones for coping with his anxiety.<br />
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<span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">The kids were so excited</span> to see Carson when he got home that they made a little shrine for him in the entryway. Carson loves turtles and the shrine was everything turtle (oh, and chocolate!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUGc7uNCiE85Rq6yEtPhcbMvCzVwbuF3RoRmkDpH2bpfNNMJBQhH5-zRqtcqRvTKOzcRX1p4Gbk0RrnKjYGIsFv2E6aa8TMYlUiBxSiHkY0BokgLoXig1-pTIhMbxuhUNuWk19ZudDvQ/s1600/Carsonhome+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUGc7uNCiE85Rq6yEtPhcbMvCzVwbuF3RoRmkDpH2bpfNNMJBQhH5-zRqtcqRvTKOzcRX1p4Gbk0RrnKjYGIsFv2E6aa8TMYlUiBxSiHkY0BokgLoXig1-pTIhMbxuhUNuWk19ZudDvQ/s320/Carsonhome+003.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson's Boy Scout troop made him a "Welcome Home" sign.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson's favorite plushies were there to greet him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turtles EVERYWHERE!! Carson loved it!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Minecraft turtle shaped room was skillfully constructed by Amanda</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids greeted him with all of his favorite goodies. The plate was piled high!<br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">As parents, we make the best decisions we can with the information we have.<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: black;">Hopefully, the fallout from our actions is positive. Parenting is the hardest job I've ever had to undertake but the rewards are incredible! I'm really praying that the Carson who came back to us, stays with us. </span></span></span>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-16273802782741248652012-11-20T02:38:00.001-07:002012-11-20T06:54:43.023-07:00Missing My BuddyIt's awfully quiet around the house without Carson. I am really missing him. This is different than when he spent 16 weeks in the NICU, I hadn't bonded with him the same way as I have now. He has his part in our family, a role to play, a hole in my heart to fill. He is not sleeping well on a strange bed and I am not sleeping well without him kicking me all night (yes he still co-sleeps.) I desperately want him home, and he cries to come home every time I visit. It rips my heart out to have to leave a child that is begging, and negotiating to come home. "Please Mom, I just want to go home. I'll try so hard to be good, really I promise."<br />
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The thing he doesn't understand is that he isn't there as a punishment, he is there to keep the rest of the family safe. His behavior had escalated to the point that the violence was going to really hurt somebody. Trying to live with himself after doing irreparable damage to a sibling, friend, or animal would have had lifelong negative consequences. I'm praying that his time in the hospital will have lifelong positive consequences.<br />
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Deep breaths.Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-78849593075775439442012-11-18T19:59:00.000-07:002012-11-18T21:08:27.808-07:00I Left My Heart<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #660000;">Secrets have power.</span> <span style="font-size: small;">I realized that when I was about twenty-seven. Admitting that my childhood had been peppered with abuses was a direction I did not want to take. Being honest about life scared me. Clinical depression and anxiety had become the norm until I <span style="color: black;">followed</span> the example of my awesome sister and got myself into therapy. As a result, Jeanna and I have become more open and honest about everything. Some things aren't fun to admit, but they are the truth.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My sweet buddy Carson has been struggling for some time. I had my doubts about writing all of this down, but hiding his health issue would be the same as saying that I was embarrassed of it, and I am not. I never want him to be embarrassed either and I never want him to feel the sting of loneliness that can come when one feels their diagnosis is somehow unique.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Carson is one of what I imagine to be tens, if not hundreds of thousands of children who suffers with extreme anxiety, and likely depression. This isn't something that just popped up out of the blue. We have been aware of the anxiety for many years. I've known that at some point that he would need treatment beyond what I could give him and that it would mean putting him on medications to treat what I believe is a chemical imbalance. That time has come. After dealing with some very volatile, uncontrollable behavior, Jeff and I checked Carson into the hospital for treatment.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for admission to the mental health unit. </td></tr>
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">My thoughts are all over the place.<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: black;">I miss my son. At the time that I'm writing this, he has only been away overnight...but I miss him. I spent the first night with him in the children's hospital waiting for a bed to open up in the appropriate location. Once the hospital had a place for him, we were asked to leave him and limit our visitation so that he can be doing the work that needs to be done. The drive home was a lonely one.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">I vacillate between confidence that the right choice has been made, to thinking that it seems like overkill to hospitalize a little ten year old for psychological help. I blame myself for neglecting to get him help until he was in crisis mode. Leaving him there was leaving a piece of my heart. Hopefully, he will be home soon, ready to be part of a family that functions as a unit. I look forward to his return and bringing with him the piece of my heart that is missing. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">I look forward to being whole again. </span></span></span><br />
<br />Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-81634498022376213492012-11-15T05:42:00.001-07:002012-11-15T06:03:05.643-07:00More Kid-isms<span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">It's time again to write down things that have come to the forefront of my memory...</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My quadruplet mommy mind is so overloaded that when the kids past and present funny quotes come to mind, well, it's time to get them written down!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mason (ten years old:) "Breastfeeding your baby doll. Creepy, or ground breaking?" Apparently he saw this on an ad, but some questions I'm just not prepared for!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jaxon's response to learning what a fax does: "That is so cool! I think technology might be the future." Ummmm, you may be on to something there son!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The kid's cousin Melody. When I asked who had been playing in the food coloring, she replied "I didn't do it!!" I guess she thought I didn't have eyes. She was almost 4. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">To preface this next story, you have to know that Mason's very favorite food has always been McDonald's fries. Driving past the Golden Arches usually means we end up taking a trip through the drive through. When the kids were about 3 and learning their alphabet, I was writing the letters down on paper and asking the kids to identify each letter. The kids had a great time correctly identifying letters and shouting out what letters they recognized until we reached the letter m. Mason took one look and shouted out "FRIES!!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I still chuckle when I see him happily eating a box of hot french fries with the m on the front. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mason holding his favorite stuffed animal "Batman."</td></tr>
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My final kid-ism for today...Mason used to have a stuffed bat he named Batman. Batman traveled with him everywhere! That bat was an absolute favorite toy. As Batman aged and became ratty looking and torn, I found Mason performing CPR on him. Not quite knowing what was going on, I hid just outside of his view but well within my view and earshot. I heard him sadly proclaim to his brother "Call 911. I've done everything I can but I still wasn't able to save his life!" </div>
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Fortunately, I was able to intervene before 911 was called. I would have been really embarrassed had the paramedics showed up to save a stuffed bat!</div>
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Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-38676563250118797032012-11-10T08:42:00.000-07:002012-11-10T10:46:06.268-07:00"It's Just Weird!"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My three sons. Carson, Mason, and Jaxon</div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">Today I am so grateful for life's tender mercies.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday was difficult. It was a very windy day and the twins were getting ready for speech therapy. The wind really bothers Carson. It scares him, causes great anxiety, and it hurts his ears. So to keep him calm, he will wear headphones with a hooded jacket over the top when he goes outside. As the twins and I made our way to the car, Jaxon came zipping up on his scooter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">"It's just weird."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">"What's weird, Jaxon?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">"It's weird that he has to wear those headphones...Why does he have to wear those headphones? It's just weird!" he replied, this time with a little more anger in his voice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">In that instance, my heart felt like it had been ripped right in two. Two typical kids who are understanding that their two Autistic brothers are different. One brother who gets that his other brother may be viewed as strange. Half. Half of me that needs to be as cognisant of my typically-abled children as I am the needs of my differently-abled children.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I pulled Jax aside and gave him a big hug. "Jaxon, I love you son." I replied. "I know that you see that as strange but there will be enough people in this world who will tease Carson. I need to ask you not to be one of those people. Carson needs to know that when he is home, he is safe to be exactly the person God created him to be, and that we will accept him and love him just the way he is. The very same way we accept and love you for the wonderful person that you are. Can you try and do that for him?" Jaxon's face softened, his voice became kind, and with a sweet nod of his head he answered "Yes."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I broke into tears on the drive to speech therapy, tears that are often close to the surface right now. I really hate seeing my kids suffer, even though I know that challenges are exactly what we need to forge us into the people we become. I really hate that the twins may be viewed as "weird." I am so proud of them for all their quirky behaviors, yet I understand that the world may not be as kind. I love that Mason is a little human computer when it comes to all things NASCAR, and I love that Carson really gets into geography and the weather. They are brilliant, sometimes too brilliant for us "normal" people to understand. I want the world to see the boys that I see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I ended up having a restless night. Sleep eluded me. After several unsuccessful attempts to count sheep, I picked up my laptop and clicked on to my favorite Autism website, Thriving With Autism. I hadn't visited for quite a while. One of the articles immediately caught my eye, </span><a href="http://www.thrivingwithautism.com/i-was-a-casualty/"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I Was A Casualty,"</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> a brutally honest, gut wrenching look at being the sibling to a differently-abled child. The woman who wrote the article has been a friend of mine for ten years. In all that time, I did not know this part of her life. The knowledge came at just the right time, a true tender mercy. I know the article had to be painful for her to write and I am grateful to her for putting it out there for others to learn from. I highly recommend the piece to anyone who is raising a child who is "different" and wonders how their typical children are feeling, and how to help them.</span> <br />
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Thank you Andrea Warner. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrP4DHI1LHGdgMAU4Zk7TiOV5m2hWxqPfLj6xncsSEHrAwQlbTdoKhtw0jOitwFwrCRdy538byVIxhtYGSaFm3HDEuvtWgANO1Lae0D8VTw0DxodgEPQ7uUFCHOOVIxXZwQFEA3eU-5Qk/s1600/FallLeaves2012+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrP4DHI1LHGdgMAU4Zk7TiOV5m2hWxqPfLj6xncsSEHrAwQlbTdoKhtw0jOitwFwrCRdy538byVIxhtYGSaFm3HDEuvtWgANO1Lae0D8VTw0DxodgEPQ7uUFCHOOVIxXZwQFEA3eU-5Qk/s320/FallLeaves2012+012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mason and Carson (who was getting geared up for a windy day.)</td></tr>
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<br />Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-11060753310359214912012-11-07T22:39:00.000-07:002012-11-08T07:39:03.965-07:00Autumn Leaves<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">While on our daily walk, we noticed that <span style="font-size: small;">the older neighbor on the corner could use a little help raking leaves off his VERY large yard. So, we decided it would be a really great project for the kids (and all of us really,) to give just a little back to someone in the neighborhood. So, I got a few things together, and went leaf crazy!!!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QJazEv1a1H9wt8LIXqoBJ9Lgn6KJ_AEE_x8BcmP-jahhGtpGqwblgM1H_7XlDCWqNYcyM0snJ5ZGAb5zemI0S9ntVoHIaCpEsp9l-Fnek0Chqa9nBB-1jfNWOZuXrpZKBWh14Og0Y5s/s1600/FallLeaves2012+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QJazEv1a1H9wt8LIXqoBJ9Lgn6KJ_AEE_x8BcmP-jahhGtpGqwblgM1H_7XlDCWqNYcyM0snJ5ZGAb5zemI0S9ntVoHIaCpEsp9l-Fnek0Chqa9nBB-1jfNWOZuXrpZKBWh14Og0Y5s/s320/FallLeaves2012+031.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My energy to accomplish my task.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The very large yard absolutely covered in leaves.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFdgdHmolzEe9aU80Xqp08lHU5j8KI6GFlLVduQkvzUjUtmsucAllgeBgELM7KuoXug-kgqHz9K-Y9-siw1Ez7V0_6YG_-ORd6h9F-10xqwRQamXe7CtDPpB6v0wZEcYVlNf7Tf5-7HaA/s1600/FallLeaves2012+034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFdgdHmolzEe9aU80Xqp08lHU5j8KI6GFlLVduQkvzUjUtmsucAllgeBgELM7KuoXug-kgqHz9K-Y9-siw1Ez7V0_6YG_-ORd6h9F-10xqwRQamXe7CtDPpB6v0wZEcYVlNf7Tf5-7HaA/s320/FallLeaves2012+034.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Amanda, Jaxon and Elder Kuli Yes,we were even fortunate enough to round up some young men to contribute!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elder Kuli from Tonga. He worked very hard. But sheesh, look at those biceps...He was good to have around. We will feed him and his missionary companion dinner tomorrow for all their trouble.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-wISIYr18b63zPierxIaiTpqA9eipqSDWIX6fJ3qKQLynzhj4BFO09wnX4qlhHFaj5jW03nD2yRsAEaarS6Se6EK5WEfjoc85iKQsyrYsex9FY7s-7GzQzFycloopzCjDrZtQe8FHsHQ/s1600/FallLeaves2012+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-wISIYr18b63zPierxIaiTpqA9eipqSDWIX6fJ3qKQLynzhj4BFO09wnX4qlhHFaj5jW03nD2yRsAEaarS6Se6EK5WEfjoc85iKQsyrYsex9FY7s-7GzQzFycloopzCjDrZtQe8FHsHQ/s320/FallLeaves2012+010.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson and his headphones, ready to man the leaf blower!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mason and Carson</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64AzS5X_n5d4aANKBuUfktjODOlFcLoUm2SC_HOfnuZl_gpu30yeHH_3uvhPs2desZUjtyIBsI10mHfokGdRaLgVJc_DgJidL1fQVBtHLd0scHPz8Bmic3vwIeHzDVeBz-ILTGF3V3rw/s1600/FallLeaves2012+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64AzS5X_n5d4aANKBuUfktjODOlFcLoUm2SC_HOfnuZl_gpu30yeHH_3uvhPs2desZUjtyIBsI10mHfokGdRaLgVJc_DgJidL1fQVBtHLd0scHPz8Bmic3vwIeHzDVeBz-ILTGF3V3rw/s320/FallLeaves2012+003.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda worked very hard....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzdlrRF59BiKOx1fIyunXEUPJutpBcRYPSPI3F56Fu1jLWB0sVRfJ4YVRF0I3ImXHvKcbc7MVqQb_wVT-Q5iZZRuemtzPhSqerW9amLNlaqjwQlsaK9GLT3pLL9fe_ow8s5fE_PWvdyc/s1600/FallLeaves2012+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzdlrRF59BiKOx1fIyunXEUPJutpBcRYPSPI3F56Fu1jLWB0sVRfJ4YVRF0I3ImXHvKcbc7MVqQb_wVT-Q5iZZRuemtzPhSqerW9amLNlaqjwQlsaK9GLT3pLL9fe_ow8s5fE_PWvdyc/s320/FallLeaves2012+009.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And so did Emma</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgq6rerbopQllaZpuKSIZONJSfmPYAs8rdHVhhVScqiCwDa84N7afgLAr0BzqbzFUtIt1Y6NNyGONlmrTp8OQwSerodEKJyCHCs_HeuTiLOpglBt9MWEHXw5BYEVulSoUnOYckaY_8pIM/s1600/FallLeaves2012+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgq6rerbopQllaZpuKSIZONJSfmPYAs8rdHVhhVScqiCwDa84N7afgLAr0BzqbzFUtIt1Y6NNyGONlmrTp8OQwSerodEKJyCHCs_HeuTiLOpglBt9MWEHXw5BYEVulSoUnOYckaY_8pIM/s320/FallLeaves2012+040.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elder Bennet manned the leaf blower.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjxzp3F8Cv0U_92_HxIWbRr0tc0ln7fFRtSUXNKogwm5Q5J2IShGPkWYPrarK48Mz0uzHKpubr2nFbh5ePQRkcOv9VRpOREuc7-oZ2ZWtzSQyR19pTNbMcJ_wXBbXDjEa_EoVeuvpd40/s1600/FallLeaves2012+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjxzp3F8Cv0U_92_HxIWbRr0tc0ln7fFRtSUXNKogwm5Q5J2IShGPkWYPrarK48Mz0uzHKpubr2nFbh5ePQRkcOv9VRpOREuc7-oZ2ZWtzSQyR19pTNbMcJ_wXBbXDjEa_EoVeuvpd40/s320/FallLeaves2012+017.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adam was on bag duty, and we filled a bunch of them!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidH-NlKA9Fxu1mld1IFcFSdBcj3SJDQpVWrcGD4r-yjp93q1B8Wl7nIMT8rQ1Rzu6C4LztfaN6Vo3Ls3sDVnxCDgnUK9I-4iV1i70Hhyz5N8ReojdM2N9RBDfSu0SKsAjHSJkPmn3CgLs/s1600/FallLeaves2012+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidH-NlKA9Fxu1mld1IFcFSdBcj3SJDQpVWrcGD4r-yjp93q1B8Wl7nIMT8rQ1Rzu6C4LztfaN6Vo3Ls3sDVnxCDgnUK9I-4iV1i70Hhyz5N8ReojdM2N9RBDfSu0SKsAjHSJkPmn3CgLs/s320/FallLeaves2012+019.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adam's mom, Lisa.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3i-qByivzGQuRF6G-ELUS6TrIHrove_3V9Oj_Sze7YgpvghOuYkezuaFD3aHRrFfzIHdaCdeVzOsftdrwYXHQKFOLzqDaY5UY71bmn2E7Q6aKnp83uHujcI_a1Ax9nZaZbwvYyiraVaw/s1600/FallLeaves2012+048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3i-qByivzGQuRF6G-ELUS6TrIHrove_3V9Oj_Sze7YgpvghOuYkezuaFD3aHRrFfzIHdaCdeVzOsftdrwYXHQKFOLzqDaY5UY71bmn2E7Q6aKnp83uHujcI_a1Ax9nZaZbwvYyiraVaw/s320/FallLeaves2012+048.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Here's the whole group that participated. I think we filled more than 35 bags, I lost count. My body is sore and tired and my face a little sunburned, It was truly one of the best days I have spent with my kids. They are worn out, I can hear their heavy "sleep breathing" as I write.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">It was so exciting to hear the girls and Adam talking about how much fun they were having. I was so proud of all of them! Thank you Elder's Bennett and Kuli. Your strong arms and backs saved our lives! Without you, we would still be raking...</span></div>
Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-30786228884778347722012-08-29T22:56:00.000-06:002012-08-29T22:56:05.201-06:00Stress Relief<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Remember my last<a href="http://fourbabies4us.blogspot.com/2012/08/stresssssssss.html"> post</a>? Well...</div>
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After a few sleepless nights, some crying, and tentative plans made for the future, I was finally able to get a copy of my current insurance coverage. I studied it line by line, combing over my policy and all the little microscopic footnotes. I could clearly see that I did have coverage for the injectable drugs that two of my boys need and they were covered under the medical portion of my insurance, not prescription. Despite being told on no less than five occasions something to the contrary, it means that they are subject to deductibles and out of pocket maximums!! </div>
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I promptly drove to the Altius offices and spoke with a representative, showing her what my policy clearly stated. She apologized for all the confusion and promised that she would get my account straightened out. The root of the problem seems to be outdated computer programming that does not allow the medical side of your plan and the prescription side to be seen at the same time. (C'mon people, this is 2012!) After having had so many customer service people get it wrong, it was nice to talk to someone who appeared to know what she was doing. She did not disappoint! Within 3 days, all my screwed up claims were fixed, my account had been sent to the proper billing teams, and a check had been issued back to me for overpayment on Mason's medication. </div>
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I could kiss that girl!</div>
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So, a payment of a minimum $30,000 per year, which would only increase as the boys get bigger, has now become a maximum out of pocket of $9,000!!!</div>
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I never thought I would be so excited about paying $9K in medical a year!! A few weeks ago, I was complaining about how high my out of pocket maximums were.</div>
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Reminds me of the saying "How do you make a man happy? Take away everything he owns...And then give it back to him." Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-74380707960804891002012-08-20T00:29:00.000-06:002012-08-20T11:53:46.023-06:00STRESSSSSSSSS!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDsSUBvsc59d7ngABKct_I63nM3etWhyE1-crP6NN65KH3OJR1FsLjTB3f-uRvxuEjKD3VmdRDY220ovL0BvmDfDmOsznyDC-vVCQ6B6r_YtIUzqqOF6I-2xdCaXKoKxI3quCpdd0dzI/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDsSUBvsc59d7ngABKct_I63nM3etWhyE1-crP6NN65KH3OJR1FsLjTB3f-uRvxuEjKD3VmdRDY220ovL0BvmDfDmOsznyDC-vVCQ6B6r_YtIUzqqOF6I-2xdCaXKoKxI3quCpdd0dzI/s320/017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Seven little vials of medicine. Seven vials delivered to my house once each month. Medication my boys need to be tall enough to drive cars and get jobs. Medication with NO generic equivalent, nor competing manufacturer. Seven little vials that hold less that six teaspoons combined. (The whole story behind the need for this can be read <a href="http://fourbabies4us.blogspot.com/2012/05/coming-up-short.html">here.</a>)<br />
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These little harmless looking vials have taken over the past three days of my life. They have made me cry my eyes out, given me severe migraines, and sent me on wild goose chases through websites and paperwork involving insurance coverage. They have caused me to look for part-time jobs that have great insurance benefits, and shop for home equity lines of credit.<br />
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Humph! Maybe it isn't the drug that is the bane of my existence, but the insurance company.<br />
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Originally, my insurance covered the boys medication at the cost of $60 per boy, per month. Excellent coverage actually, for a medication that runs over one hundred thousand dollars<em> a year</em> for the two of them combined. It is so expensive that I almost felt bad for my insurance. Almost...<br />
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Every year, our company takes a look at insurance and usually adjusts policies in order to keep insurance sort of affordable. I begged my company (actually begged my brother in law who runs the place) to not make any changes this year. I did not want to give the insurance company ANY reason to change the prescription benefit. I was guaranteed that no change would be made to prescriptions. We were getting a new plan despite my protest. As you probably have guessed from the title of this post, things most definitely changed.<br />
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From $120 total per month to (drum roll please) $2300 PER MONTH!!!! Yep, they decided that I need to pay 30% of the cost as a monthly co-pay. As you may be well aware, co-pays do NOT count towards deductibles or maximum out of pocket costs. I'm no mathematician but I can easily figure out that $2300 per month is going to cause a serious change in our standard of living. (It may be a very cold winter...)<br />
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Tomorrow is Monday and I am hoping to find a ANYTHING in our policy that will get the insurance to at least count the money towards our maximum out of pocket, or even pay at a higher percentage since I have no other drug (generic or otherwise) available to me. In all my digging around today, I may have found some verbiage to my advantage, but, I cannot find my actual policy in my online account. (The policy they have listed is from last year, stupid huh?)<br />
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So, one more night of insomnia awaits me as I try to figure out just how we will pay for this drug. If I find out that our policy specifically states that the drug cannot be paid under medical benefit and therefore is not subject to deductibles or out of pocket maximums, I may have to go to plan B. <em> Just got to figure out what</em> <em>exactly plan B is!</em><br />
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Wish me luck.Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-59913483377584225452012-07-03T11:10:00.000-06:002012-07-03T11:13:36.933-06:00A Whole Decade!!!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ten years ago, the loves of my life made their entrance into this world. Gosh I love them ten times more than I did before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">What a difference a decade makes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> Then...</span><br />
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And Now!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1xgdm4xGi1Ty_sCu4BXS6399P1hjFaL-82Nk8Gz7iXST8ETqZShJmLOTXjtBGcO-5RuYqsEgrgQzXegwHHB_Zwll4C3FYnq5ceX7VC7GEewo2GtODd4sElANxxQKTSSlLvse8YGZoYY/s1600/fab410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1xgdm4xGi1Ty_sCu4BXS6399P1hjFaL-82Nk8Gz7iXST8ETqZShJmLOTXjtBGcO-5RuYqsEgrgQzXegwHHB_Zwll4C3FYnq5ceX7VC7GEewo2GtODd4sElANxxQKTSSlLvse8YGZoYY/s320/fab410.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson, Jaxon, Amanda, Mason</td></tr>
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Happy, Happy Birthday beautiful babies!! Don't grow up too fast...Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-92188363816803500982012-06-15T07:47:00.001-06:002012-06-15T17:26:54.649-06:00You Get What You Need<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Continued...(from <a href="http://fourbabies4us.blogspot.com/2012/06/you-cant-always-get-what-you-want.html">here)</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In my adult life, there have been a few things I've</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <em>really</em> wanted. I really wanted the first little baby I was pregnant with, I really wanted Mom to outlive Dad, and I really wanted autism to skip my kids. And, I just assumed that all those things would go just the way I had planned.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Sometimes, things don't go as planned. They go the way they should. Painfully better.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I thought the loss of our first baby would kill me. I have never felt pain as deep as when I was told that the 12 week baby we had simply named Junior, was in my tube and could not be allowed to continue to grow. The pregnancy had to be ended immediately. It was a crushing blow that only got worse when I found out that my remaining tube was completely blocked. Our options for having a family suddenly changed. I was angry, hurt, deflated. And as life goes, it wound up being the best thing to happen to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">After two more years, thousands upon thousands of dollars, and 5 frustrating attempts at IVF, we were finally pregnant. Pregnant with four of the most incredible blessings I have ever received. A pregnancy that never would have happened if not for the loss of the first baby. Four little miracles that survived despite serious prematurity and have become the reason I exist. Four teeny babies who are turning ten in a couple of weeks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I learned that I don't know the whole picture. That I can only see as far as today. That sometimes what I want isn't what I need.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Coming to the realization that Mason and Carson are autistic was not what I wanted. Having Mom die two years ago wasn't how I'd planned things to go either. But, I learned from the loss of my little Junior that there had to be a reason things hadn't gone the way I wanted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When Mom died, I lost the buffer between me and my dad. She always promised us that she would outlive him and that we wouldn't have to care for him in his old age. Dad had quintuple bypass surgery a number of years ago so I always assumed that he would be gone before her. But now I believe Mom left early to give Dad the opportunity to get to know his children.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Dad had heart valve replacement surgery in January and I had the privilege of helping care for him. Had Mom been here, I would have just let her be the one to stay in the ICU with him, and maybe I would visit for 20 minutes. Instead, I got to hang out with him for four days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I really thought that I would never want to get to know him...I was wrong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Like I said before, I see the boys in my dad, and I <em>really</em> love my boys. When they do something quirky, something exactly like Dad would do and I would have found irritating, my feelings about my dad change. It was hard to love my autistic father but loving my autistic boys is easy. My boys have completely changed the way I see Dad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">One day I hope my boys find a woman who loves them as much as my mom loved my dad. Someone who sticks with them, even when things are really tough. A woman who is willing to spend 53 years of her life loving them in spite of their quirks. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">And I really hope they have children that can see through their autism and learn to love and accept them for who they are.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Like I finally have with Dad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-86115677277513606272012-06-11T04:14:00.000-06:002012-06-11T10:07:24.022-06:00You Can't Always Get What You Want<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is my Mom and Dad, the people who put everything on the line for the 9 children that made up my crazy family. I have a few fond memories of childhood but, the one thing that I will always remember is that my dad was mean. The constant chaos of having so many children crammed in a small home (with only one bathroom,) was more than he could handle. Dad yelled a lot. I was very afraid of him. He was very unpredictable and we never knew if our actions would cause him to come unglued. I constantly walked on eggshells. I remember hiding in the closet with my sister (and BFF,) Jeanna, whenever Mom wasn't home in order to avoid his wrath. It was difficult to have a conversation with him (still is) because he is ADD and obsessive-compulsive which makes him want to talk only about the things that interest him. and usually bore me. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Any relationship we had with Dad went through Mom. She was the go-between, the buffer, the peace keeper. Mom has earned her spot in heaven for all the times she refereed and stuck up for us, keeping Dad's full anger from landing on us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I think I always believed that I wouldn't ever have a relationship with Dad. He shows a lot of quirky behaviors and it is difficult to get to know him. A lot of his behaviors really drove me crazy. From his obsessive need to brush and floss at precisely 9pm, to his constant talk of his childhood or days in the Air Force, to his ability to get so engrossed in a game of Football on TV that he completely shut the world out, it was just tough to break through and bond with him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">After a particularly bad time, Mom was talking about leaving. Dad realized something wasn't right, and my mother convinced him to go to counseling. I think he learned a lot from that experience. The one thing that Dad has always had going for him is that he is teachable. He learned some coping skills while in therapy that have made it easier for him to navigate life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Then my brother's three boys were diagnosed with autism. Their behaviors were exactly like Dad's. A lightbulb went on in our minds, and the mind of our mother. As we learned more and more about autistic traits, we realized that <em>Dad was also autistic</em>. We finally knew that he wasn't trying to be a mean man, he just lacked the ability to respond to frustrating situations in socially acceptable ways. It took some time but, eventually, I began to see Dad in a different light. I started to feel compassion instead of dislike, empathy instead of anger. But still, I had no desire to forge a relationship with him. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson, Mason</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Then Go</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">d</span><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> saw fit to send me two autistic boys of my own. Two little identical twin boys that have done nothing but melt my heart since the day they were born. Two boys who exhibit the very same behaviors that my Dad has. Boys who have meltdowns when overstimulated, have little patience for small children, and obsessively take their growth shots at 9am and 5pm. (Sound familiar?) I began to see my dad in my boys, or, was I seeing my boys in my dad?</span><br />
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Part two in a couple of days...Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-54520611573338117312012-06-04T22:13:00.000-06:002012-06-04T22:13:08.283-06:00Recently Published<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've been trying to get into writing to make a little money to pay for my travel habits (and a few others.) I was recently published on a couple of websites.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Check them out if you have a minute:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">This one was published on a major mommy blog called Shopaholic Mommy. It is their most read article to date!</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.shopaholicmommy.com/family-life-2/autism-should-i-worry/">http://www.shopaholicmommy.com/family-life-2/autism-should-i-worry/</a> <br />
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Another has been published on a site called <u>Thriving With Autism</u> where I will become a regular contributor:<br />
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<a href="http://www.thrivingwithautism.com/my-fight-if-schools-can-integrate-deaf-kids-why-not-my-autistic-kids/">http://www.thrivingwithautism.com/my-fight-if-schools-can-integrate-deaf-kids-why-not-my-autistic-kids/</a><br />
If you know somebody who has, or if you have an autistic child, please share the site with them. You will find a ton of useful information there. You can also steal their awesome autism ribbon and share it on your own blog if you are so inclined.<br />
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Happy reading!<br />
<br />Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-27005615414371280012012-06-02T08:23:00.005-06:002012-06-02T08:23:54.336-06:00Kimber Academy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The quadruplets attended a private school this year. It's called the Kimber Academy and it teaches core classes only. Classes are only held 3 days a week, 4 hours a day leaving the rest of their education to be done at home. Much of what they teach involves getting the students to determine their own interests and self direct their learning. (Wouldn't it be great if that were an option in the public system?) It was a great help in giving us a blueprint for our homeschooling. Not sure if we can afford it next year, but the kids want to return if we can.</div>
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For the first time in years, the quadruplets got school pictures!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marvelous Mason</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute Carson</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Action Jaxon</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Amanda Panda</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought I'd share a few photos from their fun times at the Academy!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda and her bestie Emma dissecting a frog.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnols6GxF1EYob0TzkItsKEFBEe-g3AK3zoQB8eQ-OjjRS5ZXfmAGD-SG6jDv6p-50YeV3sPI6hFgb7Bb5nzHcBL9MSgfiqdGWuX4KXQYqHh889xL3YHbmBZxuII3BOVLeH07U3hHDbo/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnols6GxF1EYob0TzkItsKEFBEe-g3AK3zoQB8eQ-OjjRS5ZXfmAGD-SG6jDv6p-50YeV3sPI6hFgb7Bb5nzHcBL9MSgfiqdGWuX4KXQYqHh889xL3YHbmBZxuII3BOVLeH07U3hHDbo/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+018.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls really got into it! My boys, not so much...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7XftEuIE8YDEgi6fprB_TESNtEX5WdtjC-iYi5FTOUT_xzjI70Ntecmgbr3AoSd0aADascVV-3atdORp7pqEPw1wSOvM1fRMrZsfSDbT2wSK8harOWuTkSluTG5vEXLyWvsa5mt5-Vmc/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7XftEuIE8YDEgi6fprB_TESNtEX5WdtjC-iYi5FTOUT_xzjI70Ntecmgbr3AoSd0aADascVV-3atdORp7pqEPw1wSOvM1fRMrZsfSDbT2wSK8harOWuTkSluTG5vEXLyWvsa5mt5-Vmc/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+082.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final day of school, we all went and climbed Ensign Peak</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizcxr91QiCUi3ZklVfcFU4pnp8JFhEgWRTmJwXIDWfkzSEH4rmb3WD5zGFhp5QeNV9TiKtOJsjB3imalfCcV4Qd3Mgz1aCtw4tEFOIw9K6wSC4H-DeFNxDRIPiRWZSOd5d0orujnvZ0Iw/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizcxr91QiCUi3ZklVfcFU4pnp8JFhEgWRTmJwXIDWfkzSEH4rmb3WD5zGFhp5QeNV9TiKtOJsjB3imalfCcV4Qd3Mgz1aCtw4tEFOIw9K6wSC4H-DeFNxDRIPiRWZSOd5d0orujnvZ0Iw/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+084.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready, Set, Go!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXJw9YraZVuzi1QtvLngL3Mp0yUuUGl1uisayaW_fs3DhPc7bs-u3wDkb0AbyAU6_ONSbTl2m1_2FG9xHpeP5dr1qxBfyTWpFU4lHcdr31sO_tP8MWetLvNFcl5Yyi-pQatA-7XA-jDM/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXJw9YraZVuzi1QtvLngL3Mp0yUuUGl1uisayaW_fs3DhPc7bs-u3wDkb0AbyAU6_ONSbTl2m1_2FG9xHpeP5dr1qxBfyTWpFU4lHcdr31sO_tP8MWetLvNFcl5Yyi-pQatA-7XA-jDM/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+090.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mason and Carson...Always the twinners!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOUMUvjhuiB0E8cMXFohd2EQoPzqiElAtUqbGxB94JfgFULm8uIGN4KNGvNqRVMkAWAg89HBk_wKSXAwVJNj_7j3rN_ZNY7L7pwW2oGRSjz6Xz7CbVNscLlNbC3Z-GdfhL87Fz7Y637E/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOUMUvjhuiB0E8cMXFohd2EQoPzqiElAtUqbGxB94JfgFULm8uIGN4KNGvNqRVMkAWAg89HBk_wKSXAwVJNj_7j3rN_ZNY7L7pwW2oGRSjz6Xz7CbVNscLlNbC3Z-GdfhL87Fz7Y637E/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+104.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda, Emma F., and Emma S.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwfcLlrvKQdgoBUFMeVMfZn5tU-8Pz_WxfRA_lga1-7_9Cw47JWHxz9zt8lHuryG6wu6yuOpfg5JYBuaosoJtK0T7O_WTOZAsF70bAKkndSumqbpjxPK8WVRCKeWyQu3ejmMaPBEoIyM/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwfcLlrvKQdgoBUFMeVMfZn5tU-8Pz_WxfRA_lga1-7_9Cw47JWHxz9zt8lHuryG6wu6yuOpfg5JYBuaosoJtK0T7O_WTOZAsF70bAKkndSumqbpjxPK8WVRCKeWyQu3ejmMaPBEoIyM/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+095.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made it to the top!<br />
Amanda, Mason, Carson, Brother Thatcher (their teacher) AKA Sifu, me, and Jaxon<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmheFFxwS5d8pYX8olpC2Mcshv0Wh6t3v6N6AS9nCyytby8L7FIf-1kTmjTBWkQFIjGez7CW0BREcxpESiPam_M1U5W9ECy_gU93gElvjx1T_CnCytpXqjzQaQbivuwrvbzNe1rxrm4Xo/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmheFFxwS5d8pYX8olpC2Mcshv0Wh6t3v6N6AS9nCyytby8L7FIf-1kTmjTBWkQFIjGez7CW0BREcxpESiPam_M1U5W9ECy_gU93gElvjx1T_CnCytpXqjzQaQbivuwrvbzNe1rxrm4Xo/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+098.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entire school!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After our beautiful hike, it was off to City Creek Park for a little picnic!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyqiJOMeOFB_I7NAYuiol7wJpscdskt-hXW9_eBMhfMTPzVO-_mNuD7ufXQLow35bOFZZMIuqyR5Nh09XIeR982CCicK6bFBryJz5_B0x9rJVbkpUkkl7pM26WRLpkGxRO4YA5pYi08c/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyqiJOMeOFB_I7NAYuiol7wJpscdskt-hXW9_eBMhfMTPzVO-_mNuD7ufXQLow35bOFZZMIuqyR5Nh09XIeR982CCicK6bFBryJz5_B0x9rJVbkpUkkl7pM26WRLpkGxRO4YA5pYi08c/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+106.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice who Amanda is hanging out with? Yep, they are inseparable!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCbA_uXNMbLtlqK-hi-SnPBlwXpfk3N5g4hPiJd-ynWog2tDCdlDoLfkib0gwELl1zy-SRO2V4HLbtxqWTCBQBWC8Z_vxnIa0z6P7KcMFrOlPJMvAFQM-a76ucalE_JbK-8xVyDjBdpk/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCbA_uXNMbLtlqK-hi-SnPBlwXpfk3N5g4hPiJd-ynWog2tDCdlDoLfkib0gwELl1zy-SRO2V4HLbtxqWTCBQBWC8Z_vxnIa0z6P7KcMFrOlPJMvAFQM-a76ucalE_JbK-8xVyDjBdpk/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+116.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little garden snake was the life of the party!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkxrC5f44o0iO3UopdC1NqSZNpLQ1mWvN91DeWYrin5ipkvhoKCkU57T-Yb2YWE9rpa3iuAjaa8FDQ5wU5dJzd6p2fK9e650PVnPCo5-_f7h-QrX_3guPIQDwz_KgJZk83jw6pIq9w3-4/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkxrC5f44o0iO3UopdC1NqSZNpLQ1mWvN91DeWYrin5ipkvhoKCkU57T-Yb2YWE9rpa3iuAjaa8FDQ5wU5dJzd6p2fK9e650PVnPCo5-_f7h-QrX_3guPIQDwz_KgJZk83jw6pIq9w3-4/s400/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+118.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tons of fun by the creek.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We met a lot of really wonderful new friends this year, friends who the quads definitely want invited to their birthday party! But that will be another day, another blog post...</span></div>
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<br /> </div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-83905357335687439052012-05-27T11:02:00.001-06:002012-05-27T11:07:24.742-06:00A Tale of Two Scaleys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyGmBg-wVF13THBvldfysz6-b4JvP-Ckz9UoW2mKp0O2oBVFHIBJHb2ZlZawNF33W1IWNYpqSBtQempM9-o_eqCDMpVQsyVHsTvDG_PoT-YNqJMzkU5ICV_o4Dl3Jgp96ebDt2qbyHDF0/s1600/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyGmBg-wVF13THBvldfysz6-b4JvP-Ckz9UoW2mKp0O2oBVFHIBJHb2ZlZawNF33W1IWNYpqSBtQempM9-o_eqCDMpVQsyVHsTvDG_PoT-YNqJMzkU5ICV_o4Dl3Jgp96ebDt2qbyHDF0/s320/Derby+and+last+day+of+school+080.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is Scaley.<br />
He was purchased as a gift for Carson while on a "mommy and me" trip to California with my little girl, Amanda. She found him while browsing the souvenir shop at the Long Beach Airport. Carson has a love for sea turtles so Scaley was the perfect thing to bring a smile to his face.</div>
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We had no idea just how important Scaley would be to Carson. Scaley became Carson's constant companion. They went everywhere together. Whether he was in school, scouts, speech therapy, math tutoring, or just playing, Scaley was there.</div>
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One day the unthinkable happened and Scaley was lost.</div>
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We looked everywhere for him but had no luck.</div>
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Carson was crushed.</div>
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A few days later, Carson asked if he could go on a mommy and me trip to Long Beach. I told him that I would start looking for airfare deals and we would plan a weekend away. (I had forgotten about Scaley by then, but Carson had not.) It wasn't until we touched down that I realized the whole purpose of this trip. It was to replace his beloved Scaley. Our first stop was the souvenir shop where the shelf where the turtles had been now had dolphins displayed. This was the beginning of a weekend of disappointment for my little guy.</div>
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We ended up going to the Long Beach Aquarium in hopes we would find a new Scaley. No luck again. We purchased a "second best" turtle and decided to spend the weekend looking for a Scaley. For the entire weekend, we looked for the little stuffed turtle in every shop we frequented.</div>
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We ended up back in the airport at the end of the weekend and still had no Scaley. Carson was so disappointed and my heart went out to him. We decided to check the souvenir shop one last time. Still no Scaleys on the shelf.</div>
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A very sweet employee named Laura, commented on the "second best" turtle that Carson had in his hands. We told her of our plight and how important the little sea turtle was to Carson. She knew exactly what stuffed toy we were talking about and said that she knew there were some in the warehouse. She was clearly short handed and very busy. There was no way at that time she could leave the shop. She asked for our flight information and said she would try and get one to us at our gate. Her kindness and willingness to go the extra mile for my sweet son isn't something you see very often.</div>
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We got through security, found our gate, and waited for our invitation to get on the plane. Soon, the announcement was made for us to begin boarding. Carson was visibly disappointed that we were not successful in finding a replacement Scaley. The line to the plane was long so we decided to just sit and wait for people to get in their seats. Just as I thought we were going to have to give up and board, I see Laura...She is running through security, straight to our gate. She had a bag with her that had not one, but two, Scaleys for Carson to choose from. Tears filled my eyes as I thanked her for her kindness. She really made an impact in a little boy's life. I don't think she knows how much that meant to me, and to my sweet boy. I don't think I've ever seen Carson so happy! Carson picked the perfect Scaley, we made our purchase, and a very happy child (and mom) boarded the plane. The kindness of one person will never be forgotten.<br />
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Carson and Scaley are once again, a team. They go everywhere together and Carson is happy.<br />
Thank you Laura for just being you!<br />
You deserve a raise...</div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-91086694350420199552012-05-22T14:30:00.000-06:002012-05-22T14:30:09.533-06:00Malia<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9MANoP-e8ZxTXnW7Wh3Hql3R6zBHuSBg3usiOktAVDmgSkvYApe0Z-V4hx9MW4bUhoCpPpUSQ1jyo0xvp7a-xp_VErKa0df09wseEWnyKhG6CqIB6bDsoJsaJ_v9IqiS_igl3PmvogRM/s1600/Malia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9MANoP-e8ZxTXnW7Wh3Hql3R6zBHuSBg3usiOktAVDmgSkvYApe0Z-V4hx9MW4bUhoCpPpUSQ1jyo0xvp7a-xp_VErKa0df09wseEWnyKhG6CqIB6bDsoJsaJ_v9IqiS_igl3PmvogRM/s640/Malia.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Malia Michelle</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Twenty four years ago, my sister gave birth to the most beautiful little baby girl. She gave her the name Malia Michelle in my honor. I fell in love with her the minute she was born. Little Malia's beautiful crystal blue eyes glowed off her porcelain skin and her incredibly long black eyelashes went up to her eyebrows. People stopped wherever we were to look at the gorgeous baby.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When Malia turned 14, her parents divorced. Her world was turned upside down at a time when a child is incredibly vulnerable. In order to numb the pain of her father's absence, Malia turned to alcohol. At first, she hid it well from those closest to her but, it would soon become a habit that would take over her life. For the next ten years, she regularly drank herself into total oblivion. Many times she would call one of her siblings, her mother, or me to pick her up from an unknown location in the middle of the night. She would be so intoxicated that she didn't know where she was. As a family, we feared for her life. Every time she left home with friends we wondered if she would return. Many bad decisions caused heartache and pain to herself and those of us who truly love her. We wanted nothing more than to see her sober but, she continued to use alcohol to escape.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">A decision to drive drunk was the beginning of her brushes with the law. She was caught driving the wrong way down a busy highway in the middle of the night. God was really looking out for our precious girl. Instead of being killed in a head-on crash, an officer put his car between her and an oncoming car. She was arrested, received a fine, probation, and mandatory drug and alcohol testing. Instead of complying with the terms of her probation, she took a turn for the worse.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">One night, while in a drunken stupor, she swallowed a bottle of Klonopin and then took a bath. Her mother was awakened at 3am by a young man who, at that time, was Malia's boyfriend. He was worried as he had just been on the phone with Malia and things were obviously not right. Jeanna (my sister, Malia's mom) found her baby girl in the tub, passed out. Somehow, Jeanna managed to get her out of the tub, into the car, and to the emergency room. Malia had earned herself an ambulance ride to a bigger hospital, and a stay in the Shock Trauma unit. She was placed on a ventilator because she was unable to breathe on her own. Her alcohol level was 2.45 (legally drunk in our state is .08.) Seeing her in that bed, with a machine breathing for her, was incredibly scary. She looked small and helpless. I prayed that this would be the turning point in her life. If she had spent just a few more minutes in that tub, this story could have ended right here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">As time went on, Malia continued to drink and avoid her probation. An arrest warrant was issued. Things began to completely fall apart. She could no longer get state issued ID, which meant she could no longer get a job. The warrant hung over her head at every turn. She talked on several occasions of turning herself in and getting sober. Then it happened. She drank herself into a stupor and then drunk dialed the police and turned herself in. Another arrest, another appearance in front of the judge. This time, the judge did not screw around. The fine had to be paid, the mandatory drug testing followed, or she would spend 180 days in jail. Thank God for that judge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Malia's strong will and spirit of determination finally kicked in. The threat of 6 months in jail was enough to motivate her change. At first, she counted her time sober in days. I looked forward to a daily text with the number, one more day without alcohol. The days became weeks, the weeks became months. The look of hope returned to her eyes, her personality returned, and her smile became brighter than I've ever seen. She worked hard and made regular, weekly payments on her fine. She never missed her mandatory drug and alcohol testing. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">In the midst of all this, she met a man named Will. Malia and Will are good for each other. She is happy. She has dreams for her future. Dreams of a home, children, family. Dreams that could so easily have been wiped out. Dreams I am so excited to see her fulfill.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OyPr5RCSLshA_edJZd3TpG6OTJ5jwn79Mb-XmBTDx5oSVLgQh4B_32nu7-EhCSZYdAp3zOoaU3mHIwvjwmZtELV6oP5DeXUOyunP4ZL2LkKqeYm-o8upL-MaVIVzIpbipp7sJ6Ie2mI/s1600/colorfest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OyPr5RCSLshA_edJZd3TpG6OTJ5jwn79Mb-XmBTDx5oSVLgQh4B_32nu7-EhCSZYdAp3zOoaU3mHIwvjwmZtELV6oP5DeXUOyunP4ZL2LkKqeYm-o8upL-MaVIVzIpbipp7sJ6Ie2mI/s400/colorfest.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sober and happy Malia at this year's Colorfest.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday, my sweet little blue eyed baby niece and her man Will, packed up and moved to Oregon. She is on to a new chapter in her life. I cried when I said good-bye to her. The tears were those of sadness, joy, and gratitude. I will miss her but, I really want her to do what makes her happy. <em>Truly happy</em>. I'm so incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments . Proud of her strength and spirit. Proud that she holds her head high and is proud of herself. She has so much to offer, so much to give. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Enjoy your freedom sweet girl, for you truly are free! Always know that your family is here for you and we love you more than words can say. </span></div>
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</div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-46307576749621382282012-05-11T16:34:00.000-06:002012-05-11T20:34:37.864-06:00Coming Up Short<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My children have always been small. Their weights at birth (13 weeks early) were 2-6, 2-3, 1-13, and 1-11, and they didn't exactly hit the genetics jackpot for height. As they've grown, the identical twins have really lagged behind the other two. I always thought it was a result of their poor eating habits and put a lot of pressure on myself to try and get them to eat. However, their appetites were almost non existent and you just can't force feed a kid :o( Their last trip to the pediatrician triggered a referral for all three boys to an endocrinologist because of their lack of growth. Amanda has always been a champion eater and although she is also small, she is at least scraping the bottom of the charts. Unfortunately, the boys growth curve hasn't been much of a curve at all, rather a flatline. Jaxon height wasn't as much of a concern but he is still not growing at an average rate. All three boys were sent for initial blood tests. The twins tests showed problems that needed further examination so they were admitted to the Rapid Treatment Unit at a local hospital for a six hour test. Jaxon's growth factor levels were low, but not low enough to be alarming so he squeaked out of the big test...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql0OQbbSIHjFZmHkBp1hObSN27tESVNy4hP37Z6EweIfu2PirGYBLlxWL8Xoo08NO5O5B6h4IK5zdCi7eC1KWdLG4J-nfFO7eSiPuVeuSnZBc4-Z6YKMy_IMrjwfD5Qnyi-9pzzuMdRQ/s1600/DSCN1566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql0OQbbSIHjFZmHkBp1hObSN27tESVNy4hP37Z6EweIfu2PirGYBLlxWL8Xoo08NO5O5B6h4IK5zdCi7eC1KWdLG4J-nfFO7eSiPuVeuSnZBc4-Z6YKMy_IMrjwfD5Qnyi-9pzzuMdRQ/s320/DSCN1566.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mason</td></tr>
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Both boys were given blood pressure drugs that made them very sleepy. This simulates what happens at night when children sleep which is the time their bodies make growth hormone. Blood was drawn every half hour for four hours. The boys slept through most of the test.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRT0yV1SQuE7EA7V3dz7bp9tbn9cZug85dbotlU-VtPpqoT0hv878uVwEZdv_Emz_WU4hAg3ey9uNn_G_S7GtkYxu6PbSjxb_FaYunEG9lKFNTrvH3-0uP7M-U6qxO-E9iNhsM0CNb1KM/s1600/DSCN1556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRT0yV1SQuE7EA7V3dz7bp9tbn9cZug85dbotlU-VtPpqoT0hv878uVwEZdv_Emz_WU4hAg3ey9uNn_G_S7GtkYxu6PbSjxb_FaYunEG9lKFNTrvH3-0uP7M-U6qxO-E9iNhsM0CNb1KM/s320/DSCN1556.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jaxon and Amanda came along as "support."</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZrs7JofKIxI7vLlXiGvRCof0Oot6rvUWnNrLr-p0ikOV8n4pq2pH74tlqNm0fieZAeiUG6lv1UB0HJiGGPeIGcY8KYIuNzOF8Jm4uZhOEXeg_CXB29cqiApz9tnWDXv6EYEZWEo4uIg/s1600/DSCN1562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZrs7JofKIxI7vLlXiGvRCof0Oot6rvUWnNrLr-p0ikOV8n4pq2pH74tlqNm0fieZAeiUG6lv1UB0HJiGGPeIGcY8KYIuNzOF8Jm4uZhOEXeg_CXB29cqiApz9tnWDXv6EYEZWEo4uIg/s320/DSCN1562.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even Daddy took the day off work for the boys!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We waited a week for the test results. I wasn't quite sure how I wanted them to come back because if they were hormone deficient, it meant expensive shots twice a day until puberty. But, if it came back normal, we would be back to the same grind of trying to force feed kids that were't hungry and trying to get calories in them any way we could. When the call finally came in, the twins were diagnosed with Severe Primary Insulin Like Growth Factor 1 deficiency, or IGF-1 for short, (no pun intended.) It's a really long way of saying that they make enough actual growth hormone, but it does not metabolize into a growth factor that is primarily responsible for bone length. Bingo! We finally know that it isn't our fault that the boys are so small. A relief and yet stressful all at the same time. It's a little overwhelming to find out that your kids will need shots for the next 7-8 years, I have no idea how those who have diabetic children handle it. My heart goes out to them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A couple of weeks later, after the treatment was approved by our insurance, our packages arrived...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6e9Flpn2jUUn6HTQvmeOjh_LLE8yUiD8KM7k9jwnH3cQbJONSrWRoBD5NCNj5YIzhZEPjv4bR6LmKoLD8gotMCCHaqLDdmoWkZBUKQl9vn1Bh-AIEAMcFoP0Ztcj58RdpvS8wbUYA1_o/s1600/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6e9Flpn2jUUn6HTQvmeOjh_LLE8yUiD8KM7k9jwnH3cQbJONSrWRoBD5NCNj5YIzhZEPjv4bR6LmKoLD8gotMCCHaqLDdmoWkZBUKQl9vn1Bh-AIEAMcFoP0Ztcj58RdpvS8wbUYA1_o/s320/014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One huge box for each boy containing a total of six vials of Increlex, 200 needles, two sharps containers, and two boxes of alcohol wipes. We were ready to go!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6JHHwCzwcZxAoIU72fN5wRJdkaFITrUbyE7bBk6wBGwNqR_uga82cwSNblAiXqkqlQEpk7NsBThci7LYqXhyxvQjfK3mZnIyau0VZCW3bwBrlc3UH7ueVgbjl7wlAMl_V0X8YhptCoM/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6JHHwCzwcZxAoIU72fN5wRJdkaFITrUbyE7bBk6wBGwNqR_uga82cwSNblAiXqkqlQEpk7NsBThci7LYqXhyxvQjfK3mZnIyau0VZCW3bwBrlc3UH7ueVgbjl7wlAMl_V0X8YhptCoM/s320/016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was kind of like Christmas when you get a gift that you really don"t want. I almost hyperventilated because the specialty pharmacy sent the medication in two separate boxes instead of consolidating into one. I really HATE waste and that just seemed silly. Seriously, did you see the size of those boxes?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In an attempt to not make this story any longer, I'll just say that the twins have adjusted better than I had expected to their shots. The medication is working well. Both boys have grown considerably in the last six weeks and they finally have appetites now that their bodies are growing and calling for calories. We are still watching Jaxon as his growth is poor but his blood levels of IGF-1 are not low enough to qualify for treatment. It's quite expensive ($800-$1000 <em>per vial</em>) so insurance has very strict requirements that patients have to meet before qualifying for treatment. The dosage is weight based so as they get bigger, the dose goes up. Mason has already gone from needing 3 vials per month to needing 4. I'm grateful for the weight gain but the cost is always in the back of my mind. I would be sick if our kids medical costs caused our insurance to not renew with our entire company.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mason taught himself to do his own shots last week and has since taken over the responsibility of giving Carson his shots as well. He is very proud of himself. They understand that this is a long term treatment that they will likely be on until 17 years old or later. Once their growth plates close, the drug will no longer work. The growth plates will be monitored with yearly x-rays.</td></tr>
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I just have to keep reminding myself...One day at a time.Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-78874437714891206602012-05-09T16:01:00.001-06:002012-06-17T22:26:08.507-06:00Just BitchingToday I feel so defeated. I texted my walking buddy, told her I didn't feel well and skipped my early morning walk. The dog cried for what seemed like an eternity because he really wanted to go (why can't I have the same enthusiasm for life as my dog?) I slept in and allowed the kids to skip school. My house is completely trashed and I am spending too much time on the computer and eating chocolate. I've gained 5 lbs and really don't need to be eating candy. I need to finish painting the basement, pull up the rest of the water damaged flooring, and seal the concrete. (The basement flooded a couple of weeks ago which forced me to do work I had been putting off.) My kitchen floor needs to be mopped, the dog needs to be brushed, my flowers need to be planted outside, my suitcases need unpacking from my trip to Long Beach with Carson over the weekend and I need to drain and re-fill the pond. My taxes got screwed up and the IRS sent me a "please send money including penalties" letter which I do NOT owe and I need to get it straightened out. My 7 month old camera broke while on a Mommy and Carson trip. (I've taken Amanda and Carson on their own separate trips and plan on taking the other two soon. Blogging about them is yet another thing I need to accomplish.) I think you should get more than 7 months out of a camera that you paid $300 for. Fortunately, it's under warranty so I can get it fixed but I have no motivation to take it to the camera shop downtown. I took some pictures on my phone but can't transfer them to the computer. My cupboards are bare. <br />
Things just suck right now. Mommyhood is kicking my butt. Life feels so overwhelming and impossible. I feel like an incompetent mom. I think I'll just go back to bed and start again tomorrow. Maybe my fairy Godmother will show up and take care of things while I sleep. <br />
Hey I can hope, can't I?Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-60127937595668906052012-05-03T14:57:00.001-06:002012-05-04T08:00:33.995-06:0047,000 Mile Maintenance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Earlier this week, I had an appointment with the doctor. I needed to be seen for what might be either allergies or what would be my first ever sinus infection. (Don't worry, I really am going somewhere with this and it won't be a post entirely about snot.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">The night before the appointment, I realized that there are several things that need attention. Being the type who hates wasting a trip, I composed my list. A thyroid that needs re-checking, a big toe that rudely became the victim of the sharp end of galvanized chain link being jammed up under it's nail, unexplained bruising, </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">a plantars wart, my aching back and neck (that I threw out sniffling of all stupid things, but again NOT a post about my nose...) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I placed the list in my purse and decided to discuss all these things with my doctor the next day. I've been seeing this doctor for some time now and I feel free to be myself around him. We have no problem joking around with each other and he understands my craziness and sense of humor. I showed up for the appointment thinking they must love patients like me who have their list of concerns written down and organized so they can be quickly addressed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The nursing assistant called me in from the waiting room. "What are we seeing you for today?" she cheerfully asked. I proceeded to unload my laundry list of items. After taking a page full of notes and patiently listening to my many ailments she said sarcastically "Uh, Michelle, you only get a half an hour..." To which I replied "Yes, but the doctor gets paid by the procedure so he should be overjoyed to see me today...I guess he'd better hurry!!"</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIafRjMb8fUZbhGWJt_VtGhYbxkrKFdXAzIkVdbE1MtucZDFTbKXhWdG7wwi-A5OPziqwcFe_pZhyphenhyphensYm8B8XIFu5B2_-otYtM0Z4JjGuv1rP_6hSObKMFSecmtZSZ9Sc14SJwNUvSa380/s1600/hypodermic-needle01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIafRjMb8fUZbhGWJt_VtGhYbxkrKFdXAzIkVdbE1MtucZDFTbKXhWdG7wwi-A5OPziqwcFe_pZhyphenhyphensYm8B8XIFu5B2_-otYtM0Z4JjGuv1rP_6hSObKMFSecmtZSZ9Sc14SJwNUvSa380/s1600/hypodermic-needle01.jpg" /></a></div>
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So, she gave me a tetnaus shot.</div>
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I guess that's what happens when you are a smart ass while at the doctor ;o)</div>
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Then the doctor froze (burned) the wart on the bottom of my foot.</div>
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It seems my remark was punished twice.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">After spending an hour with my favorite doctor and CNA, I felt that my list had been sufficiently addressed and it was time to leave. I chatted a little while longer with the office staff that I love so well, ran out to my car, and drove off. Half way home, my head began to throb and I realized that one thing had not made it on to my list and therefore I had forgot to mention.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yep, that damned sinus infection!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next time I go in, this is what I need examined.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-61408120465925822952012-04-30T08:59:00.002-06:002012-04-30T11:51:05.151-06:00Avery's Bucket List<span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">Everyone please visit this blog: <a href="http://averycan.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size: small;">http://averycan.blogspot.com/</span></a>. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana;">It is a brave blog about a 5 month old baby who has Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Her blog is an adorable account of daily happenings written from the baby's perspective. The emphasis is on living while dying, not the other way around. Children with SMA don't typically make it to their second birthdays. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana;">This family is incredible to put themselves out there in order to raise awareness for the disease and to encourage the testing that is available to prospective parents that could let them know if they carry the genetic code for SMA. Unfortunately, most parents don't even know the testing exists. I know I didn't.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana;">Way to go Avery! I love your bucket list!!</span>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-26464424686253347272012-04-29T09:03:00.001-06:002012-04-29T10:20:57.078-06:00Stuck in the Draft Pile<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana;">This post was originally written in July 2008. I'm not quite sure how it got taken out of my published work but I'm assuming it has something to do with the changes to blogger. I just found it in my drafts and can't figure out how to put it where it belongs chronologically. Since I intend to eventually make a book of my blogposts for each of my kids, I certainly need this one included! So, forgive the backpedal in time and hopefully you'll enjoy an oldie but goodie...</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana;">Will We Have Computers When We Die?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana;">My sweet little daughter, Amanda, has been asking a lot of questions about death since one of the little ducklings that lives in our backyard died last week. She want's to know if we will have computers, food, our house and if we will all be the same when we die. Of course I thought I was being very smart by answering "We will have everything we need and everyone will be the same. I'll still be Mommy, Daddy will be your daddy and your brothers will be the same." She began to cry. Now, I thought she was crying because she didn't want us to die but I couldn't have been more wrong. When I questioned her about her tears she replied "I want the boys to be different!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana;">I guess she isn't really excited with her brothers right now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Another question she asked was "Who is God and who made him?" Questions I haven't pondered in years. Amazing how the innocence of a child can get our own wheels spinning again!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Ok, now on to some lighter stuff....Pictures!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxd-3V6OuqUSCHo_YwzVULxGzLhTm12jfzfJ5V5l2DqlPMMRMbmoDQ0AWadHPyma2idaZc3QDESEteigK4KXHGxnRImOYMzc2Dvz-wrDQDX4hGdq_-3_Vowjlx1NV-GI3MPjM6F5Kirs/s1600-h/Holtamberandducks+036.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225143121209048322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxd-3V6OuqUSCHo_YwzVULxGzLhTm12jfzfJ5V5l2DqlPMMRMbmoDQ0AWadHPyma2idaZc3QDESEteigK4KXHGxnRImOYMzc2Dvz-wrDQDX4hGdq_-3_Vowjlx1NV-GI3MPjM6F5Kirs/s320/Holtamberandducks+036.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a><br />
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Our duck family<br />
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Hard to believe this was just 6 years ago!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSQSVZb9MhC9gKR-cZuLUefreM39UfaOHnhdLV0QlZVW8Cswq8nGzbCTmuyu9cM9uC6U7ehNtwZ0kZMfdWQkmFN9dsPEjqf2uIeROdcyTaXgERL39mRdV5oR6G0Cqo5A4JE7nAqrIJoQ/s1600-h/Sixthbirthday+002.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225143311008907106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSQSVZb9MhC9gKR-cZuLUefreM39UfaOHnhdLV0QlZVW8Cswq8nGzbCTmuyu9cM9uC6U7ehNtwZ0kZMfdWQkmFN9dsPEjqf2uIeROdcyTaXgERL39mRdV5oR6G0Cqo5A4JE7nAqrIJoQ/s320/Sixthbirthday+002.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a><br />
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Pictures of the kids sixth birthday party...<br />
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Mason and Carson love their NASCAR cakes!<br />
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Amanda got some Little Pet Shop toys, her favorite<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_fBtKeSC7xYzLCNbnNvaGafrYwsnO48E9rF836q3VqQH28AtBO0Y9MkZdGxHtuXuwg1NEBQxSUkwafmsRMDaxuR-vyFRWZTu0hOMrGiDP23MBs2eQS6USAh9VIZ8mPu3pGky-gWxnbs/s1600-h/Sixthbirthday+013.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225143807976168210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_fBtKeSC7xYzLCNbnNvaGafrYwsnO48E9rF836q3VqQH28AtBO0Y9MkZdGxHtuXuwg1NEBQxSUkwafmsRMDaxuR-vyFRWZTu0hOMrGiDP23MBs2eQS6USAh9VIZ8mPu3pGky-gWxnbs/s320/Sixthbirthday+013.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a><br />
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Jaxon in his water wings<br />
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Looks like the party wore Mason and Carson out!<br />
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</div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-51562778269578460962012-04-26T15:50:00.000-06:002012-04-26T21:54:36.909-06:00The Mid-Life Crisis<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My husband is having his mid-life crisis. He turns 50 in the fall so I guess it's about time for such a thing to happen. After much turmoil, I finally caved in and agreed to his wishes (as if not agreeing was going to prevent anything!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this is what it's all about huh? Ownership of a vehicle that he will never drive. Let's call it what it really is...A huge piece of yard art.</span></div>
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(He does look happy polishing that thing, doesn't he?)</div>
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I guess I should be thankful that all he wanted was a truck that's so big he needs to climb a ladder to dry it!</div>
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I must admit, watching him climb a ladder is better than finding out he climbed another chick.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wow...we're getting old.</span></div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-76687104729598565082012-04-15T09:19:00.004-06:002012-04-16T08:06:57.266-06:00Selfless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">It started about 12 years ago.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In March of 2000, me and my husband had a twelve week live ectopic pregnancy which resulted in the loss of both of my fallopian tubes. The sadness at the loss of our baby sent me reeling. The next two years were some of the toughest of my life. I had to grieve for the loss of my baby as well as the loss of my fertility. I was told that adoption, in-vitro fertilization, or living child free were my only choices. I decided to go down the path of in-vitro since I wasn't able to let go of the genetic link at that time. I became obsessed with having a baby, at whatever cost. My incredible niece, who had never had trouble with conception or childbirth, watched my plight with great intensity and compassion. She saw the difficulties that I had with such empathy. She knew that her ability to have children so easily was unusual and she always wondered how she could help others who battled infertility. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Every in-vitro cycle would bring new hope for me. I would begin giving myself two shots a day, then it would increase to 4. Daily Doctor visits were the norm. Thousands of dollars were spent and four of the five times<em>, it failed.</em> The emotional toll was much higher than the physical or financial toll. When I finally became pregnant, and knew I was getting my entire family at once, I was so glad to be finished with in-vitro! Jen easily became pregnant at the same time and we delivered our babies three weeks apart. Again, she knew of my difficulties and truly felt for the pain I had been through.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>Fast Forward</strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last year, Jen started down the road of in-vitro fertilization, complete with shots and frequent doctor visits. She went through a battery of tests to make sure that she was completely healthy and that her uterus was perfect. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The first cycle was cancelled due to her poor uterine lining. Something that was very shocking for her since she had conceived all 4 of her children so easily. She felt terrible and began wondering if there was something wrong with her (welcome to the IVF roller coaster.) Embryos were frozen and Jen was told to wait another cycle. She went into the next cycle praying for a better outcome. Fortunately, all went well. Finally, after a journey that had begun five months prior, the frozen embryos were thawed and transferred into Jen's happy uterus.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She became pregnant. Morning sickness, fatigue, weight gain, aches and pains became her life. But life also meant getting to know the little body inside her, forming a bond, and falling in love. For 39 weeks, she cared for this little human 24 hours a day 7 days a week.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>And then....</strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Two weeks ago, baby boy "M" was born. Safe, healthy, and very much loved by Jen.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">She then handed sweet baby "M" to his parents. You see, the embryo that was placed in her body was not genetically hers. She had agreed to help another family experience the joy of a newborn child. She had sacrificed more than a year of her life trying to become pregnant, being pregnant, and delivering a wonderful, perfect baby.</div><br />
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<div align="center">In the weeks since, the emotions have been somewhat of a train wreck. I can really only speak for myself but I have felt a bit of a loss. Even with the prior knowledge that this child would not be living in our family, he is still missed. I assume that Jen's emotions are raw. You cannot put that much work and love into something and not be changed for life. I can only imagine how it felt to watch baby "M" leave the hospital into the arms of a wonderful family who loves him dearly and are incredibly grateful for the gift of his life. Bittersweet I suppose. Although she always knew that the baby was not hers, and she didn't want to bring him home, she couldn't help but fall in love with him and misses him dearly. But, she also feels such a sense of accomplishment and joy for being able to help create a darling little family. He will always have a little piece of her heart.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I feel blessed to have been witness to such an amazingly unselfish act. There must be a very special place in heaven for people like Jen.</div><div align="center">God bless you my sweet niece.</div><div align="center"></div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-65457470863057561782012-04-04T14:48:00.000-06:002012-04-04T14:48:11.599-06:00April is Autism Awareness MonthI've been very busy. Unfortunately, neglecting my blog has been part of my time management plan. I did write an article for a major blog and thought I'd share it here.<br />
Oh, and I want to share my twin faces of autism as well (cause they're too damn cute!)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXQU4y8Li-G0qtOStEpal_vt3Tca4DDWOKzLsudmkHVzhxLBsO38xKaE_ejIH0YYChH6XrOi4zxZK5H3bkY8g-7zvRog-KLZY74UVrwW0ea_ltfdrup84Jn_2-wtUThscKVmfZglmO4c/s1600/carsonlsttooth+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXQU4y8Li-G0qtOStEpal_vt3Tca4DDWOKzLsudmkHVzhxLBsO38xKaE_ejIH0YYChH6XrOi4zxZK5H3bkY8g-7zvRog-KLZY74UVrwW0ea_ltfdrup84Jn_2-wtUThscKVmfZglmO4c/s320/carsonlsttooth+005.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Both boys were thrilled to have lost a tooth on the same day! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Check out what I wrote<a href="http://www.shopaholicmommy.com/family-life-2/autism-should-i-worry/"> here</a> and I'm going to go kiss a couple cute (toothless) boys!<br />
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MichelleFour babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3458417786772269079.post-70445766833515924352011-09-18T13:37:00.000-06:002011-09-18T13:37:36.882-06:00ByeBye Kitty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yesterday, we had to say goodbye to our 16 year old diabetic kitty. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">She was such a good friend to the kids.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Squeaky and Amanda from then...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ocHJzouSoCrnEgz3ywhSadsmPkpfpgP8lG54_BGqOAUaySPGnbFgAWk4CIDEqpaEjxZBwXV-E323AK7CzrrMwM6acL3DEDKzVGBQzqW67L4MnpWlmuig8NPx3xZzWFYKLly7OGf7UJE/s1600/SqueakyandbabyAmanda+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ocHJzouSoCrnEgz3ywhSadsmPkpfpgP8lG54_BGqOAUaySPGnbFgAWk4CIDEqpaEjxZBwXV-E323AK7CzrrMwM6acL3DEDKzVGBQzqW67L4MnpWlmuig8NPx3xZzWFYKLly7OGf7UJE/s320/SqueakyandbabyAmanda+007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Till now...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuD4tK9rKrWj3mZoXn9tz16jEFeBztX3lohkhCX8oRwetRLyjFCKkeMzMFp4-hNmEyswA7kODV5TqwDxTEKOe3zl7MSELYcV8EFUlj4YWCm8MU3wq5n7Os7tL1ttw4c8XIMXmmkOns-Q4/s1600/playandsqueeky+065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuD4tK9rKrWj3mZoXn9tz16jEFeBztX3lohkhCX8oRwetRLyjFCKkeMzMFp4-hNmEyswA7kODV5TqwDxTEKOe3zl7MSELYcV8EFUlj4YWCm8MU3wq5n7Os7tL1ttw4c8XIMXmmkOns-Q4/s320/playandsqueeky+065.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrn6gUqqZQeE3YKRkfhF5EH21um1fPN23HQWA4XsBHTOA-kzX3DY6VTZeIXED8FxjAmc4xG9qhyphenhyphen_GNwrk-pQF0op2fW1nSWrcioMRzrdVU1hBNSzP0kcvpQ147s3N3WG9WQLuxctd1KQ/s1600/playandsqueeky+062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrn6gUqqZQeE3YKRkfhF5EH21um1fPN23HQWA4XsBHTOA-kzX3DY6VTZeIXED8FxjAmc4xG9qhyphenhyphen_GNwrk-pQF0op2fW1nSWrcioMRzrdVU1hBNSzP0kcvpQ147s3N3WG9WQLuxctd1KQ/s320/playandsqueeky+062.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jaxon was sad to let her go.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGj_phNa_ZSe2oES3MzxtNeDYDsLbope7O4vfLYwcj9JaMBJL1_kITyHr6hyphenhyphenYAvqip_TA5s__GkssKKeLGTe6HiF7JBhVgTJIZvRH5IRBOEuVOZ-ayMu5UrC868e-kVrgoqQxF10me9UY/s1600/playandsqueeky+063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGj_phNa_ZSe2oES3MzxtNeDYDsLbope7O4vfLYwcj9JaMBJL1_kITyHr6hyphenhyphenYAvqip_TA5s__GkssKKeLGTe6HiF7JBhVgTJIZvRH5IRBOEuVOZ-ayMu5UrC868e-kVrgoqQxF10me9UY/s320/playandsqueeky+063.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey Ann was Squeaky's BFF. She stayed with the kitty right through the end. I think it might be particularly hard on her the next time comes to visit and doesn't end up with a kitty purring in her lap or trying to style her hair.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Thanks for being our kitty Squeaky, you will be missed!</span></td></tr>
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</div> <div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Four babies 4 ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12911623434048877986noreply@blogger.com5