tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17098206033394906202024-03-05T05:52:57.886-05:00ReflectionssnoitcelfeRThis blog was originally created as a format for reflection for graduate level courses that I took at Arcadia University. It will continue on as a reflective piece both professionally and personally. It is eclectic in nature with links to sources for technological enhancement of teaching and sites I just plain like. And now, on to the next chapter in life - Reflections is now a baby blog. Enjoy!Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.comBlogger687125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-29322390313735809082016-10-25T22:21:00.000-04:002016-10-25T22:21:18.099-04:00Us While watching the end of the show, "This Is Us," there was a beautiful monologuish moment where one of the main characters speaks about death. And, specifically, the episode highlights the fact that his and his siblings' father died a number of years ago. He shows his nieces a painting that looks a bit like a Jackson Pollock. The talk, as a whole, is very existential, that we are all connected, there is no end, no beginning.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e4/View_of_handyman_drip_art_wall_painting_closeup_on_section.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e4/View_of_handyman_drip_art_wall_painting_closeup_on_section.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the painting from the show, but you get the idea.<br />
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"It's kind of beautiful, right, if you think about it: the fact that just because someone dies, just because you can't see them or talk to them anymore, it doesn't mean they're not still in the painting. I think maybe that's the point of the whole thing. There's no dying. There's no you or me or them; it's just us. And this sloppy, wild, colorful magical thing that has no beginning and no end, it's right here, I think it's us."<br />
<br />Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-42397593876150745812016-10-22T22:49:00.004-04:002016-10-25T22:21:39.719-04:00Words of Remembrance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Words of Remembrance</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xMevtKuSLtkUepJkZFuYcLzduVF5I2kPw8HZfU1uBaIO7wZBEBEapvWXfS1MoNlQ1rKr7Ec9aKQOOMdRLcxR18G0pWsJNFF10zG41JdCGj1_IVcwJYNlzcaj7o1epJG755juhI684ug5/s1600/20141114-20141114-B%2526M038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; white-space: normal;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xMevtKuSLtkUepJkZFuYcLzduVF5I2kPw8HZfU1uBaIO7wZBEBEapvWXfS1MoNlQ1rKr7Ec9aKQOOMdRLcxR18G0pWsJNFF10zG41JdCGj1_IVcwJYNlzcaj7o1epJG755juhI684ug5/s200/20141114-20141114-B%2526M038.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">First, our family would like to thank you for taking the time today to be with us to celebrate the life of my father, Mike Dollarton.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Poet, Mary Oliver, wrote, “Tell me what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”</span></div>
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</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My father grew up with the reality that life is short. He didn’t take one minute for granted. And he certainly had a wild life. He devoted his life to being OUTSTANDING. He modeled what it means to help others, to be a friend, and to pursue that which makes you happy in this life.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Though none of us knew or could have anticipated what was to come, within the past month, as a family we spent quality time together both for happy reasons and sad. In those small moments, my father danced surrounded by a garden of those he loved, including his wife, daughters and their spouses, brothers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. Due to the destination, he witnessed his last beach sunset while biking with Bonnie and spent time in his favorite place with his brothers.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just two weeks later, our father offered to do what he does best and help family. My sister’s mother-in-law passed away and Sheila was closing on a house the following morning. My dad dropped everything, insisting on driving her to the closing in Maryland and a few days later, drove up to New York with Bonnie to help in any way they could. That included late nights and even walking the boys around in their stroller for an hour and a half following Peg’s funeral to ensure that they got a nap that day. As a result of being in New York, the following day my father got to spend the twin’s first birthday with them, watching them smash some cupcakes in OUTSTANDING fashion. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Though his time was short, it is some comfort to us to know that his time was well spent. He loved big and lived with few regrets. We feel so blessed to have these memories of my dad’s last few weeks. We are all better for having known him. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Last night, at the viewing, a friend shared that Mike Dollarton always left parties abruptly. That when he was ready to go, he went. While we don’t understand why, he left this party a little early and we all miss him dearly. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We look forward to sharing many more memories with all of you following the service.</span></div>
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Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-57897789822820666602016-10-16T23:49:00.001-04:002016-10-16T23:52:50.597-04:00Changed for Good"Because I knew you, I have been changed for good." ~ Wicked<br />
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So, this blog hasn't been updated in a solid two years but it's time for an entry. As I was driving home tonight, a flood of memories and stories hit me like a wave. And that's fitting. I feel like I've been knocked sideways this weekend. I was at a conference in DC called the SLJ Leadership Summit, crossing the street when I got a call from my sister. My dad was in the hospital and we should go there immediately. I began to sprint for my car. I met my sister at her condo in Arlington and we drove together to the hospital in New Jersey. To the best of our knowledge and understanding, he suffered a massive heart attack. Extraordinary measures were taken to try to bring him back to us but that wasn't meant to be. As a result, our hearts are broken. Since then I've been in a focused mode of making sure no one else should worry, that things were being taken care of, and they will be, but as I drove back home tonight, as I mentioned, stories, thoughts, and memories hit me and it occurred to me that I want to document those so that my kids have a record of what a kind hearted man their grandfather was. To add to our heavy hearts, we lost my sister's mother-in-law less than two weeks ago and she was, likewise, an incredibly kind soul who treated my kids so well. It's been a hard month. And we're not off the roller coaster of emotions yet. I had asked some people to think of and document a favorite memory of my dad. So, of course, I started thinking of some of mine.<br />
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When I was engaged and preparing for my wedding, I asked my dad if he had any thoughts on our father-daughter dance. He did. I know, you're shocked. Not only had he chosen a song (Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel...an untraditional choice, but as it turned out, I didn't have much say in the matter), but he had also choreographed a dance. He scheduled our rehearsals. It was amazing and I will never forget how special I felt that he considered me an angel. Now he's one of mine.<br />
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When I was in fifth grade, my dad got really intense about some paper/project I had to write about starfish. I'm still not sure why, but it is a vivid memory. While we were in Florida, he had the foresight to buy a starfish to affix to the front construction paper cover. He took me to his work to type the paper and helpfully suggested exactly what I should write. To be honest, my irritation with this probably prompted me to never, ever ask for help with any assignment again. I did it on my own from that point forward. He did this again when I was writing essays for my college applications and I asked him to read them and give me feedback. My dad had high standards for me and for my work. Which is good and all. But during the time I was trying to perfect my college application essay, I was accepted to the fine institution of Shippensburg University which did not require an essay and I jumped at that opportunity.<br />
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My dad worked in hospitals all his adult life. He felt very comfortable in hospitals and navigating their systems and halls. So much so, that he often disregarded rules meant for mere mortals. And made his own. When Jeff was hospitalized, my dad practically stayed around the clock. He tried to pull strings to get him treatments that were near to impossible because the resources just weren't in place. He gave massages. Visiting hours, hah! When I had my first born child, my dad was at the hospital ready to go. When they served me a sandwich with meat, he gladly ate it for me. And possibly the sandwich of the girl next door. Jeff is convinced that happened. I'm not so sure. He would often fiddle with equipment I'm pretty sure had signage that indicated you really shouldn't touch it. And, if we needed help, you'd better be darned sure he was taking the walk to find the nearest nurse rather than waiting to push a buzzer for assistance. I've inherited this utter disregard for such limits. Walk with purpose and you can get through just about any door. Don't wait for help, go get what you need. These apply to hospitals and life.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX6oGJxio3Gl-_03r-Jwt7fMAeKslEM2ZJXZo2CzpBABc4Pru5eQ_7q_LBDWh_-xCuF20quJIrS9ATwHQJBaOHPO-QDuo0GPIy3ubfuRj_L3DV6KUVco5jRi34hqtA7GZFZRJaCRln9Z8G/s1600/1017262_10152951296120370_1020462305_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX6oGJxio3Gl-_03r-Jwt7fMAeKslEM2ZJXZo2CzpBABc4Pru5eQ_7q_LBDWh_-xCuF20quJIrS9ATwHQJBaOHPO-QDuo0GPIy3ubfuRj_L3DV6KUVco5jRi34hqtA7GZFZRJaCRln9Z8G/s320/1017262_10152951296120370_1020462305_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Touching Hospital Instruments/ Corruption of Minors</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMGJtQhu1OlgAd2CVJohJUxT3jSL0fflrg1h9Lcx5XIAxonJeDN1Kx2CZCGwrqii5d5KBAL6Y7yyxwtTTM_QJbi6EcphmbChWyqyTf4QVDQz0CbWlZS0KJCM-N7cGb-5f4Py8ewCok28P/s1600/1017611_10152951295235370_690333875_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMGJtQhu1OlgAd2CVJohJUxT3jSL0fflrg1h9Lcx5XIAxonJeDN1Kx2CZCGwrqii5d5KBAL6Y7yyxwtTTM_QJbi6EcphmbChWyqyTf4QVDQz0CbWlZS0KJCM-N7cGb-5f4Py8ewCok28P/s320/1017611_10152951295235370_690333875_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Elliot, June 17, 2013</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgddTvwccSCISGUE2qYdDmi_at9s4PYafcqaaOOtffQ8kztwgpiAAzPF3h-7wsacnYZS_ddB7va3crVQ4vXIYHdKHsz1eVDs-jIJ7EDLXQCosjMHvlfHQSFOPt5r9iuUuIzBDTN3Mt9SlYW/s1600/1917014_236979550369_7099217_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgddTvwccSCISGUE2qYdDmi_at9s4PYafcqaaOOtffQ8kztwgpiAAzPF3h-7wsacnYZS_ddB7va3crVQ4vXIYHdKHsz1eVDs-jIJ7EDLXQCosjMHvlfHQSFOPt5r9iuUuIzBDTN3Mt9SlYW/s320/1917014_236979550369_7099217_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Cecelia, July 14, 2009</td></tr>
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My dad loved the crap out of his grandkids. Cece and Elliot and now Tommy and Ryan literally made sunbeams shoot out of his face. And he insisted upon getting those grandbabies in the Atlantic Ocean. Whether they wanted to or not. He made it his mission to get their tootsies wet. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI11YbvUJfV69m8wNqK1RBKDWJxvjoM0hxaguJT0q6kxSPf3rJUtp5JEEe2f4tNDXyBb_D8ld0cLabsL89g1MFrDIFUUDrZ1cyWMqHiJvvPxfZSk1UCNVB4OQQ4gJdS2IQKR-f5kmdvMLw/s1600/37162_10150285284705370_1498382_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI11YbvUJfV69m8wNqK1RBKDWJxvjoM0hxaguJT0q6kxSPf3rJUtp5JEEe2f4tNDXyBb_D8ld0cLabsL89g1MFrDIFUUDrZ1cyWMqHiJvvPxfZSk1UCNVB4OQQ4gJdS2IQKR-f5kmdvMLw/s400/37162_10150285284705370_1498382_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Cecelia, 2009, Sea Isle City, NJ</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_GmILbKh6YSy_XMT4onjTY7ZybeOrTwRLERFYsjcXCxSt7Jo4sL-YhcpcFhX-OL_SyXLqcD3q2WxiMZNEaFDGMojzXNspK3Vn8jkYIkZ9efV7o7tkjYeVekNzC4fDW_cJLTbFxxgBAsGz/s1600/1466172_10153623296185370_25706263_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_GmILbKh6YSy_XMT4onjTY7ZybeOrTwRLERFYsjcXCxSt7Jo4sL-YhcpcFhX-OL_SyXLqcD3q2WxiMZNEaFDGMojzXNspK3Vn8jkYIkZ9efV7o7tkjYeVekNzC4fDW_cJLTbFxxgBAsGz/s400/1466172_10153623296185370_25706263_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Elliot, 2013, Sea Isle City, NJ</td></tr>
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My dad worked hard. He took care of himself. He ate healthy food. He exercised. He did things he loved. He did what made him happy. He didn't care much what other people thought of the way he lived his life. And he did that until his last moments on this earth. You have perhaps never met such a productive person. When I hear what he did on Saturday, it blows my mind. And yet, it doesn't. At all. Let me walk you through Mike Dollarton's last day on earth. He woke up early. He gardened. He rode his bicycle. He made two trays of ziti. He mowed the lawn. And that was it. All before most people left the house. And then he left his house for the last time in an ambulance. He made every moment, every second count. He told people he loved them. He made time to spend with the people he loved. I want to thank all of the people who have surrounded us with love. We are all so blessed to have such amazing friends and family. If you have a special memory or story to share about my dad, please take a moment to do so in the comments below. I hope I can steal time to share more stories for my kids to look back on. Thank you!<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">From the Broadway Musical Wicked:</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I've heard it said</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">That people come into our lives for a reason</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Bringing something we must learn</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">And we are led</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">To those who help us most to grow</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">If we let them</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">And we help them in return</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Well, I don't know if I believe that's true</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">But I know I'm who I am today</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Because I knew you...</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Like a comet pulled from orbit</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">As it passes a sun</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Like a stream that meets a boulder</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Halfway through the wood</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Who can say if I've been changed for the better?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">But because I knew you</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I have been changed for good</span></i>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-90027473549648557512014-08-10T22:27:00.001-04:002014-08-10T22:27:59.252-04:00Happy AnniversaryTomorrow marks 8 years since Jeff and I were married. He said something to me once that I was thinking about today. A few years ago, he said something funny to the effect of being just as great as he was on the day we were married. I replied no...he's even better. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCxVCmjmE748uym8kEeFZLcoNC9SLh3AmBAvx9nJ-kfRA25EzVz_oZrtSaze2BAGAnid-otj76kjX-lh2GJL6VJ3kqTGA9YwttET3fLWzXiYbz8iY4gUQqyzKxXnOgSZoMV3Cn0oEZLpS/s640/blogger-image-1143134300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCxVCmjmE748uym8kEeFZLcoNC9SLh3AmBAvx9nJ-kfRA25EzVz_oZrtSaze2BAGAnid-otj76kjX-lh2GJL6VJ3kqTGA9YwttET3fLWzXiYbz8iY4gUQqyzKxXnOgSZoMV3Cn0oEZLpS/s640/blogger-image-1143134300.jpg"></a></div><br><div><br></div><div>We were married at 25 and we were both very different people than we are today. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWdBM4Nj1xyPXNcrTGlZUByHXObMht4ZOPLXpgWxp11unQHWpknZntkbdpEI042brxXKRgKC6rS85n7ji3-K41rNX2APZkyJZY2KEy0dFrhU0sq480mrM3OgwiHoqJI36SYrD_GblVMIU_/s640/blogger-image-728344448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWdBM4Nj1xyPXNcrTGlZUByHXObMht4ZOPLXpgWxp11unQHWpknZntkbdpEI042brxXKRgKC6rS85n7ji3-K41rNX2APZkyJZY2KEy0dFrhU0sq480mrM3OgwiHoqJI36SYrD_GblVMIU_/s640/blogger-image-728344448.jpg"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWdBM4Nj1xyPXNcrTGlZUByHXObMht4ZOPLXpgWxp11unQHWpknZntkbdpEI042brxXKRgKC6rS85n7ji3-K41rNX2APZkyJZY2KEy0dFrhU0sq480mrM3OgwiHoqJI36SYrD_GblVMIU_/s640/blogger-image-728344448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJSx8jRb13cRjuf_pfysG21vdizXXl3MqA1a3sT3Hlg3on4mUNo6N950q5FQtOiFsBRO-udSVNosXVC0ukCIxZPtxSpU8Wemx69kMJ3W9-xJKTj2GADTdQUr9odQahXU9y4cqrLGiVUt2/s640/blogger-image-1833581332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJSx8jRb13cRjuf_pfysG21vdizXXl3MqA1a3sT3Hlg3on4mUNo6N950q5FQtOiFsBRO-udSVNosXVC0ukCIxZPtxSpU8Wemx69kMJ3W9-xJKTj2GADTdQUr9odQahXU9y4cqrLGiVUt2/s640/blogger-image-1833581332.jpg"></a></div> </div><br></div><div><br></div><div>We are both stronger and healthier, physically and mentally than we were at 25, more selfless as parents than we ever could have previously imagined, but also selfishly, we pursue interests that are unique to us as individuals and value those pursuits in each other, expressing interest and supporting each other. We take time for ourselves as individuals, ourselves as a couple and our family as a whole. We have cultivated strong friendships that I can only hope continue to thrive along with our marriage. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjOx61HBtS3Om-nwx8b1YwbdLnMn4xH_KIp-JkO4_y8jiTDsOHbEIQTYVeEotS3hHRyOKiyg1_jNYF8AoyvRPwE3ilxwS6jO0MWJ0hMB-i4oB_9zFpRBlRZ9-tihLPfoYIbNukhhVe0_6/s640/blogger-image--641037798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjOx61HBtS3Om-nwx8b1YwbdLnMn4xH_KIp-JkO4_y8jiTDsOHbEIQTYVeEotS3hHRyOKiyg1_jNYF8AoyvRPwE3ilxwS6jO0MWJ0hMB-i4oB_9zFpRBlRZ9-tihLPfoYIbNukhhVe0_6/s640/blogger-image--641037798.jpg"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjOx61HBtS3Om-nwx8b1YwbdLnMn4xH_KIp-JkO4_y8jiTDsOHbEIQTYVeEotS3hHRyOKiyg1_jNYF8AoyvRPwE3ilxwS6jO0MWJ0hMB-i4oB_9zFpRBlRZ9-tihLPfoYIbNukhhVe0_6/s640/blogger-image--641037798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0qZl2zK7sCeQEnprh4Dc0Kq60pZrov0338nb7jCB45jZf0sZgOl-qLufAuMWK8mtiEFT5mewGXa8hd50xHJ8_UeaIKG_ki2fqiu14XvrMoEoJVWCrGHUHtwGGW53kAZEBSbqrmOGNxtY/s640/blogger-image-980551932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0qZl2zK7sCeQEnprh4Dc0Kq60pZrov0338nb7jCB45jZf0sZgOl-qLufAuMWK8mtiEFT5mewGXa8hd50xHJ8_UeaIKG_ki2fqiu14XvrMoEoJVWCrGHUHtwGGW53kAZEBSbqrmOGNxtY/s640/blogger-image-980551932.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rZJg55Fud08DVn_VFYMWDPzD3hoyJ92e29DPYxSjhRGcTIPqxLRw2IkpEvYAIzXKcxeuXT03irPmcdDFBJYJsrCOM1eXnY-yWJ5hozs63nKqqjCphZcf4OYP4uVNCcKgct9r8RrxsIJt/s640/blogger-image-1541143250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rZJg55Fud08DVn_VFYMWDPzD3hoyJ92e29DPYxSjhRGcTIPqxLRw2IkpEvYAIzXKcxeuXT03irPmcdDFBJYJsrCOM1eXnY-yWJ5hozs63nKqqjCphZcf4OYP4uVNCcKgct9r8RrxsIJt/s640/blogger-image-1541143250.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Jeff makes me laugh every day. And anyone who knows me well knows that I love to laugh. I make him laugh sometimes too. Jeff never wavers in his affections and I like to think our children will grow up in a home brimming over with love, witnessing that love isn't always easy, but it's always worth it. Jeff, I love you more than all the stars in the sky. Remember, there is no plan B. You're stuck with me. Happy Anniversary!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATdhHwth9jzi236Tr_DqklMKpxkHp8jAsuTngL78V17l-EvpAddaTVGxGFnJK_4HHP78Pd-zkAOia9tSsf9CYuhTCoqJfxr_ASJ-22bhJTeaLutchAqT5EMz-WnJZw0NT8oqIdicCJfef/s640/blogger-image--60160463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATdhHwth9jzi236Tr_DqklMKpxkHp8jAsuTngL78V17l-EvpAddaTVGxGFnJK_4HHP78Pd-zkAOia9tSsf9CYuhTCoqJfxr_ASJ-22bhJTeaLutchAqT5EMz-WnJZw0NT8oqIdicCJfef/s640/blogger-image--60160463.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div></div>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-62782366724362975482014-07-14T20:17:00.002-04:002014-07-14T20:17:28.242-04:00Dear Daughter 2014Dear Daughter,<br />
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Today you turned five. This year is a BIG deal. In the fall, you go to kindergarten. You're off to see the world! <br />
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"Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body." - Elizabeth Stone<br />
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You have been walking, and talking your mind for some time now. You completed your second year of preschool this spring. <br />
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You have proven time and time again that you are incredibly empathetic. I feel strongly that this is one of the traits that makes you a kind friend. You want to be friends with everyone you meet. You don't understand if/when someone doesn't want to be your friend and can be hurt by that realization. Likewise, if a friend isn't kind to you, you have learned with time and experience that it's ok to take a break from that friend. Friends are hard.<br />
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But you have navigated social situations with ease and maturity. You are far from shy. I have seen this, perhaps most evident, at the pool we belong to. You are friends with other kids your age, but also with older kids. Divers on my team, for example. And when you wanted to learn how to use a Rainbow Loom, you found that one of the older swimmers was making bracelets and you sat down next to her and started to learn from her, through observation, and savvy negotiation skills. You, along with a small following that ensued hatched a plan to work as a team to make bracelets and sell them for a small fee, splitting the proceeds among the "workers" and giving half to the pool. Likewise, you seem to see yourself on par with the lifeguards and the other staff at the pool. While one of the older swimmers was holding a swim clinic, you somehow ended up directing traffic and "helping". The next day, you were absolutely certain that you did actually wok at he pool. I'm still waiting on that paycheck! You do not sit idly by watching the "action." You ARE the action. You are a do-er and I am excited to watch you DO whatever you are meant to.<br />
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Speaking of friends, shortly before your last birthday, you met your BEST friend. The kid who does and probably always will idolize you. That is Elliot, of course! <br />
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For the most part, you are sweet and gentle with him. You don't want him to miss anything. You want him to play with you. This has, on occasion, prompted you to WAKE HIM UP. When he was SLEEPING! I will remind you of moments like this when you have you own children if you choose to do so and are so blessed. Don't worry though, he wants to be awake with you and he wants to play with you. He doesn't want to miss anything. So you are clearly doing him a favor. Me, not so much. Before he was born, you were certain that you knew everything there was to know about babies and could totally handle things should I want to go out for a night on the town. Confidence has never been lacking. You quickly recognized that, perhaps, you did not know everything about babies and had a little to learn in that department. That is a huge accomplishment. Admitting when you need to learn something. Some adults in this household have trouble with that one. Actually, both adults.<br />
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Speaking of learning new things, you started taking swim lessons last summer after your fourth birthday, continuing through the winter and this summer. When you took your first week of swim lessons, daddy asked if you would be able to swim at the end of the week. In short, no. Swimming is something you readily admitted to needing more time to learn. And you have always been clear when you were scared of a new skill or nervous. My goal is for you to be comfortable in the water. Able to swim too, but first and foremost comfortable. Well! Let me tell you a secret. You CAN swim. You just haven't fully transferred that to the "big" pool yet. You swim in the baby pool without touching the bottom. Water is water. In theory, you can do the same thing in the big pool. When you are ready. But, since you are a year older, you CAN touch the bottom because you are ever so slightly taller. And this has given you confidence and comfort in the pool. To the point that, if given the option, you wouldn't get out. Ever. <br />
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Which reminds me of another area in which you've matured. Last summer, you would get really irritated when another child would say that they were taller than you (they were) or older (also true). You didn't seem to "get" the concept. This summer, you do. And you don't seem to get so angry about the topic. You understand that it is not some insult. Just a matter of simple math. Which is good, because given your genetics, being shorter than someone else is just going to be the way it is. And given the way you play easily with older kids, you'll continue to be younger than someone else too. But, as you age, you also are older than some of the other kids. And you've shown kindness to younger kids as well. <br />
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I could probably tell lots of stories. A year is a long time to recap. Let me just wrap it up by saying that I am proud of you. I am proud of your kindness, your tenacity, your empathy, your maturity, your sweetness, and your comfort in your own skin. I am proud of you for always being who you are. Your daddy, brother, and I love you very much, Cecelia Ann. Looking forward to another year of you! <br />
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Love, Mommy<br />
Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-53237299228712878632014-06-17T16:18:00.001-04:002014-06-17T16:18:20.298-04:00Dear Son<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Today, you turn one. First, how on earth did that happen?!? I mean, I know how that happened but this has probably been the fastest year of my life! I like to think we enjoyed every second. No, we did enjoy every second. I want to apologize for not doing a better job of publicly documenting your every waking moment this year as I often did with your sister. But, well...you're a second kid. In the BEST possible way. So, a little about you this year. Let's see...bath time. I'm sure you'll really love this years from now.</div><div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Jb0hYR5G6l2CUYyfxxCaZfDE0ByHD6dnF6rV3cF_tIRGHaN2TNZdoLva6w9xsmU9vrjlQdrQgg1pROy6GimtqyAX8UBqkciRma7SnFiImg5MgT9nuSnttfI6BXcxzHSCy49632LlM8Oz/s640/blogger-image-1259329548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Jb0hYR5G6l2CUYyfxxCaZfDE0ByHD6dnF6rV3cF_tIRGHaN2TNZdoLva6w9xsmU9vrjlQdrQgg1pROy6GimtqyAX8UBqkciRma7SnFiImg5MgT9nuSnttfI6BXcxzHSCy49632LlM8Oz/s640/blogger-image-1259329548.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Perhaps I re-wrote history a bit in my mind. See, I'm looking back at this photo and you do not seem to be enjoying yourself. I swear, you did like baths for a while. Shall we see if we can find more evidence? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2oSTDZ7me1LQX50e2k5eDe6g7NDY40td9UMoDb9ULL5wOCNktN9VPf9HnsIIk85hTxPMN3ipsbhGnyL8fTDyZ-vUBdvwPfNe8ZVhh553PxWxnBo8BWGwI9KVMfS7NlQ26V4zDbOMNqdhd/s640/blogger-image-307559096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2oSTDZ7me1LQX50e2k5eDe6g7NDY40td9UMoDb9ULL5wOCNktN9VPf9HnsIIk85hTxPMN3ipsbhGnyL8fTDyZ-vUBdvwPfNe8ZVhh553PxWxnBo8BWGwI9KVMfS7NlQ26V4zDbOMNqdhd/s640/blogger-image-307559096.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">That's better!! But, well, you do NOT like baths...or water for that matter right now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9VN4Hur_w_lF8zfhiJNR1UJJSCJJXsS9Gy1sj7a7v7t6tJBixFgCGd3cdSUx0LxltcO_8xd3VJqYyh2fRlq41Bcfb3oQ_XEXRO95xJRK6bt4gdFuxH0bEjaAElDe8xiX8a58MeLnrnOyI/s640/blogger-image--1466150947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9VN4Hur_w_lF8zfhiJNR1UJJSCJJXsS9Gy1sj7a7v7t6tJBixFgCGd3cdSUx0LxltcO_8xd3VJqYyh2fRlq41Bcfb3oQ_XEXRO95xJRK6bt4gdFuxH0bEjaAElDe8xiX8a58MeLnrnOyI/s640/blogger-image--1466150947.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I thought you might like a bath in the big tub with your sister better. Wrong! And you picked the WORST time to decide this as it is now SUMMER and I would like to basically sit in a pool with you all summer long but you seem to have other plans. I suggest you get over this affinity for being dry (and might I add dirty since I'm terrified to bathe you lately...thought I WILL before your 1 year check up.) as we are entering a heat wave presently. Also, I'm a diving coach and by no means will you find me forcing you (or your sister) to follow in any footsteps, I think you should enter the pool from time to time.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Moving right along...moving. You can MOVE kid! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAGvTwaxciIFyRVHEYllDrRVSt0YfSeeHwGXuwn16Sdqz-FLUpHJZUgjM91H50bsQB3GsgZuOKYADQyS2APf4Rxj6yEti6GiX_puGw_SZFyY_AScx92ybKX8jRI4DG71HF9IcZA8PkVA8q/s640/blogger-image--740398482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAGvTwaxciIFyRVHEYllDrRVSt0YfSeeHwGXuwn16Sdqz-FLUpHJZUgjM91H50bsQB3GsgZuOKYADQyS2APf4Rxj6yEti6GiX_puGw_SZFyY_AScx92ybKX8jRI4DG71HF9IcZA8PkVA8q/s640/blogger-image--740398482.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You were a confident sitter shortly after 6 months and a crawler, backwards for a time, and then forward. Now, you still prefer crawling and you are a noisy crawler. You slap at the floor loudly as you move, which is helpful as I can always pinpoint where you are on our hardwood floors by sound alone. You've been cruising for a bit. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgaZPjdQlAujsRVvJeKmjgLYyJVN8g3x738qTCwyKiheXF1TGzSG1LY9kNMYLYlU4-ngp24lokdAkeqe1XbYGWiXAdzML0BiV0hn86y9Iq64ECqEXu4_wOHFDL5YYdIN-QtYJY3DfeqUD/s640/blogger-image-674519459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgaZPjdQlAujsRVvJeKmjgLYyJVN8g3x738qTCwyKiheXF1TGzSG1LY9kNMYLYlU4-ngp24lokdAkeqe1XbYGWiXAdzML0BiV0hn86y9Iq64ECqEXu4_wOHFDL5YYdIN-QtYJY3DfeqUD/s640/blogger-image-674519459.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vrMBxMytZ9E0D4sgfG8G1104UkYz7UYkrCIe3zKtacDpm_BIpY_2mtSGxuKzi_YK-f0Fe-c9uhkDMekyxJJqt15NVVIUsDRqNnOEcux7cxCmLcx7LiI2jIWbA3T2d_N8EW-NMl7Ajal0/s640/blogger-image-1464338305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vrMBxMytZ9E0D4sgfG8G1104UkYz7UYkrCIe3zKtacDpm_BIpY_2mtSGxuKzi_YK-f0Fe-c9uhkDMekyxJJqt15NVVIUsDRqNnOEcux7cxCmLcx7LiI2jIWbA3T2d_N8EW-NMl7Ajal0/s640/blogger-image-1464338305.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And, allegedly, you have taken a few steps for daddy. I'm in a bit of denial. Because you are my baby!! And I am in no rush for all this walking nonsense. But walk, and run, you will. And you already climb Everest sized mountains of steps. Up and up and up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Now, for comparison sake... You have an awful lot of teeth. Your sister didn't get ANY teeth until after her first birthday. You have SIX!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16cBJp_9QIWk_PaNziuxANlPAVbf-_H4hGGmuqbEbwWB2ah5jIr9rgY5-HPj56havtsin0oN_8zbrFP3GirJU1NdlI5lBNpjJNeiAFPVb6nfLmxZLcKhT9MhoH6uz3ZjnKEzalalsbHZv/s640/blogger-image-1284399808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16cBJp_9QIWk_PaNziuxANlPAVbf-_H4hGGmuqbEbwWB2ah5jIr9rgY5-HPj56havtsin0oN_8zbrFP3GirJU1NdlI5lBNpjJNeiAFPVb6nfLmxZLcKhT9MhoH6uz3ZjnKEzalalsbHZv/s640/blogger-image-1284399808.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIAqEMDxpP9k7mICuImXUGZky2rcXH9mtopz9MWLqWZXvr22kRs8i9tC6NUKUfKtMeT5K3Q6WjVaFmSDcv4mGLILFJMZAKWCZH1j2G06V2uC8_K5IJefkNjrlEM8N8ozcyqeTn_JthVJ8y/s640/blogger-image-802171752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIAqEMDxpP9k7mICuImXUGZky2rcXH9mtopz9MWLqWZXvr22kRs8i9tC6NUKUfKtMeT5K3Q6WjVaFmSDcv4mGLILFJMZAKWCZH1j2G06V2uC8_K5IJefkNjrlEM8N8ozcyqeTn_JthVJ8y/s640/blogger-image-802171752.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Just look at those chompers!</div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And you use them for more than just smiling. Though, you are quite smiley. That will be next. For now, food, glorious food! We did something called Baby Led Weaning with you, which basically means we offer you the same food we are eating, for the most part, in a form you can pick up yourself and feed yourself. And you love exploring ( and sometimes refusing) new foods.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG81O6pR4HFpk9bZ1tq6zuNnPVSSo3DscowYEiBCr9IHeG0hUCkpDtQxqjjdEMa1yiCumobZfk4RHNRgaJ4pmRZD8ranRjKYaJDSNXMP96aIAM6hjPVUk_LMGaLab-2xc4FzJA1KWnvBRV/s640/blogger-image--655969032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG81O6pR4HFpk9bZ1tq6zuNnPVSSo3DscowYEiBCr9IHeG0hUCkpDtQxqjjdEMa1yiCumobZfk4RHNRgaJ4pmRZD8ranRjKYaJDSNXMP96aIAM6hjPVUk_LMGaLab-2xc4FzJA1KWnvBRV/s640/blogger-image--655969032.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEglT-8LOXirOjt0i5vE1qQbmbCKttthCiL4g7evl0yEetkSL0nDpAg2BPlsaYaVF3ezgof80A1AQZpZtyl-UaNo8vj8mMiIu3r6OeEZqJe1QiIVHInkximS7OhcSiMIc7TWYUWWewxK_S/s640/blogger-image--946384785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEglT-8LOXirOjt0i5vE1qQbmbCKttthCiL4g7evl0yEetkSL0nDpAg2BPlsaYaVF3ezgof80A1AQZpZtyl-UaNo8vj8mMiIu3r6OeEZqJe1QiIVHInkximS7OhcSiMIc7TWYUWWewxK_S/s640/blogger-image--946384785.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Right now, you particularly like Cheerios. And cheese. Lots of cheese.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Back to smiling. You are super easy going. An overall happy guy. Except for sometimes. The sight of clowns, nuns in habit, dogs, Santa, or characters (several of these are consistent with your sister) send you into hysterics. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wCkTMJiidFW2qf64wB3kpe4wKE81lGexejmpmfFcH91GOBXGXtCpAQdkth18L7VjQRyy3eTzHvzvkr_ep-sKIrhaDiz8KVPnzhzz5z0hq20m_g6bpU7928z_CvGBwyBBTOuHceXzrKwa/s640/blogger-image-1151040622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wCkTMJiidFW2qf64wB3kpe4wKE81lGexejmpmfFcH91GOBXGXtCpAQdkth18L7VjQRyy3eTzHvzvkr_ep-sKIrhaDiz8KVPnzhzz5z0hq20m_g6bpU7928z_CvGBwyBBTOuHceXzrKwa/s640/blogger-image-1151040622.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Also, if something is taken away from you (particularly something that belongs to your sister that she has decided you should never ever have and that she snatches away from you emphatically and decisively), or if you are told no (when you really want to do something) you can melt into a sad puddle of tears. But your cry is SO DARN CUTE. Your lower lip, and the crocodile tears. Oh, and the bath or pool. Perhaps I mentioned that already. Besides those situations, you are a super happy, go-with-the-flow kinda guy. Which is good. Because you are the second kid. Your job is to go with the flow. You can nap on the go...or at home. Eat lunch...or drink milk out and about. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And you are a lucky second kid because you have a sister who LOVES you so much! And I can tell already that she will defend you until the day she dies. But may I suggest you stop slobbering on her toys. She doesn't like that much.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-1Wbd331PUPLrKYpRWqPmsZXHM1SnE30LrEi1WSOEUxRIsKRjx83bjiXQjQ8_MzlpixpDSCDnPKCKKgQq-KLyUyQuSqD67-YHgrSSsNTMyBra1ShyA4mUWq0fJsYlPMsjiwoZcx9GAr5/s640/blogger-image-33378035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-1Wbd331PUPLrKYpRWqPmsZXHM1SnE30LrEi1WSOEUxRIsKRjx83bjiXQjQ8_MzlpixpDSCDnPKCKKgQq-KLyUyQuSqD67-YHgrSSsNTMyBra1ShyA4mUWq0fJsYlPMsjiwoZcx9GAr5/s640/blogger-image-33378035.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNrCt7R1A2rmAO2IjcSHTxKByXN8kzQSJbRDmpKpBsOpANsavrWfLwZJvsJMB167VXmaqq8B1yskJ9PQEgOHcYcLGdxANIvU7Cgpz1BQUuJ3byah_TBtE7PvmiHf-6FqReP5ecY_oIQj9/s640/blogger-image-1968003126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNrCt7R1A2rmAO2IjcSHTxKByXN8kzQSJbRDmpKpBsOpANsavrWfLwZJvsJMB167VXmaqq8B1yskJ9PQEgOHcYcLGdxANIvU7Cgpz1BQUuJ3byah_TBtE7PvmiHf-6FqReP5ecY_oIQj9/s640/blogger-image-1968003126.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMgfkt8mtc6GDuf7Vl7tCqcNkmcyL_9U0S-amcarL7FM7BaaOaVuEqcptgP2mKN0EtDr1cOmgRSQqjiJarnuxtZl7ALLJ216HoSOhjYA4fnUFzsvUWIrWSiocA3j6dpzMKjiBmByzmHqPY/s640/blogger-image--1717968285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMgfkt8mtc6GDuf7Vl7tCqcNkmcyL_9U0S-amcarL7FM7BaaOaVuEqcptgP2mKN0EtDr1cOmgRSQqjiJarnuxtZl7ALLJ216HoSOhjYA4fnUFzsvUWIrWSiocA3j6dpzMKjiBmByzmHqPY/s640/blogger-image--1717968285.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3H69qJQqYv42Ic8Up-p6br3LNAGTqJzbkTenMoH7bBg_BNauzzV0UgRkEV_KOTDp8yjz-TPP2ATbJAsyYpvpNT4uBxZv-0E7r5LOjshPypuFtLZjOpcc_nbbyQ9QEHiZjtcAHaQkrdkiA/s640/blogger-image--1297041396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3H69qJQqYv42Ic8Up-p6br3LNAGTqJzbkTenMoH7bBg_BNauzzV0UgRkEV_KOTDp8yjz-TPP2ATbJAsyYpvpNT4uBxZv-0E7r5LOjshPypuFtLZjOpcc_nbbyQ9QEHiZjtcAHaQkrdkiA/s640/blogger-image--1297041396.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Stay just this way. Don't grown another inch. Don't change. But you will grow and you will change and you will continue to amaze us all with your awesomeness. So, do grow, and do change. And continue to amaze. And be awesome. We love you so!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQsidPWyYGdNUBgQAGwG-tUNZuZsWPnQjEC-c-UIR3c16MNXcRJR3uPj6YmH9dN1MXLq4xRKiMMFqdgnC-VI5g1yqwIDxhu7k3Ua28XHFlIvsM8J3C8Na14QhO4rTTfa4TUaQ0nCxD6i8/s640/blogger-image-1614819302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQsidPWyYGdNUBgQAGwG-tUNZuZsWPnQjEC-c-UIR3c16MNXcRJR3uPj6YmH9dN1MXLq4xRKiMMFqdgnC-VI5g1yqwIDxhu7k3Ua28XHFlIvsM8J3C8Na14QhO4rTTfa4TUaQ0nCxD6i8/s640/blogger-image-1614819302.jpg"></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-15141197743126462302013-10-15T09:30:00.000-04:002013-10-15T09:30:04.082-04:00The Fourth TrimesterIt's amazing to see how much babies change just from one week to the next. Here are Elliot's first three months.<br />
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<embed id="vp1UC1R9" src="http://static.animoto.com/swf/w.swf?w=swf/production/vp1&e=1381238993&f=UC1R9FT2St7y99lkECkyoA&d=0&m=a&r=360p&volume=100&start_res=360p&i=m&asset_domain=s3-p.animoto.com&animoto_domain=animoto.com&options=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="432" height="243"></embed></object>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-4353078948294902122013-10-08T09:30:00.000-04:002014-01-17T21:58:04.830-05:00Elliot's Entrance<div>**This post was seven months in the making. Sorry for the delay!!**</div><div><br></div>Throughout the third trimester, I was told quite frequently that I wouldn't be making it to my due date. My due date was June 23rd. I didn't. But I did make it to my goal. Possibly through sheer force of will. Here's your recap.<br>
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About 6 weeks prior to my due date, I found out that my midwife would be on vacation. It felt very much like the scene in the movie "Knocked Up" when Katherine Heigl realizes her practitioner who she interviewed about "being there for her" would not...be there. Nonetheless, when receiving very personalized care, this is one of the drawbacks and one that I was prepared to deal with. By holding my baby in until my due date. My midwife would be on vacation from June 16th-23rd, so I'd just have my baby after her flight landed, of course. It would be perfect, because that was when I was due. <div><br></div><div>Many pregnant ladies I've encountered get to the end of pregnancy and they are DONE. I get it, I totally do, but I just wasn't like that. I had a very comfortable pregnancy and I like babies to cook just as long as they need. With that said, Cece arrived a week ahead of schedule, so the fact that my midwife's vacation would be during my 39th week was a smidge stressful. <br>
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While I wasn't considered to be a candidate who needed to go to the hospital as opposed to the birth center, (because I was NOT diagnosed with polyhydramnios - yay Natrum Muriaticum!) I still wanted to visit the hospital where I could end up...just in case. With the possibility of going with a "backup" midwife a reality, there was a higher likelihood we would be in the hospital. If any other patients from either of the two practices was in labor at the same time and needed to go to the hospital, I would need to go also to receive care from a midwife. So, about 4 weeks before D day, we went to visit Einstein Montgomery Medical Center. It is amazing! It is a brand new facility that works with midwives in the area. The only hospital to work with midwives in the area, so it had my support in that regard. I had also been assured that so long as I was not a high risk case, I could be treated by a midwife in a room as if I was in a birth center. It was comforting to visit, if even just to know what entrance to go to and where to go once inside. As it turned out, time was of the essence and it was very good to have a clear head as far as directions were concerned.<br>
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The following week, we visited our "backup" midwife, Ronni Rothman of Woman Wise Midwifery. Ronni is awesome. We gave her the recap of our history as it pertained to my first labor and birth experience. She was very laid back, direct, but also very warm and funny. She was someone I knew I would be comfortable having by my side during birth. She made a very positive impression on Jeff, so that he was hoping I went during week 39 so he could "hang out" with Ronni more.</div><div><br></div><div>So, we had all our ducks in a row. My goal was to make it through the last day of school and that is what we did. The last day of school was Monday, June 17th. It was a half day with students though as an encore teacher, I would be covering one assembly and presenting at two assemblies. Easy. At midnight on Sunday, my water broke. With my first pregnancy, my water did not break until we were in the hospital so this was a new experience. I think it was important that my water broke first so that I could take any contractions seriously. Up until then, I had pretty regular contractions but had dismissed them as Braxton hicks. If my water hadn't broken, I very likely would have had a baby in the car by myself. When my water broke, I called the midwife. I was advised that if the fluid was clear, I was safe to labor at home and wait until labor progressed. There was no nursing coverage at my birth center during the overnight hours that night so if I were going to get checked it would have been at Einstein Montgomery and though they are quite liberal, they are still a medical institution and like others, if I went in with my water broken I would be staying in. I took all this to mean that there would be nursing coverage the following day (a mistake I probably should have clarified). </div><div><br></div><div>So I came up with the following plan. Jeff should sleep and get as much rest as possible. I ate "breakfast" in case I was in more intense labor and less inclined to eat at a more traditional breakfast-ing time. I decided that if labor pains weren't crippling that we should go to school. Jeff would drive and stay with me. Cece would stay home with my mom. Since then people have shared with me that this was crazy. But if you know my daughter you might realize that laboring at home would have been far more stressful than laboring at school, in a lovely quiet library by myself. What would you choose? </div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, I labored at school walking around, sometimes pausing to lean on the circulation desk. Jeff reflected that students were coming in to check in items and I would assist them, breathing a little more carefully at times. I presented at two assemblies. During the first, I ended up being last in the order so for the second I asked my principal if I could go first for reasons that were obvious only to myself. If I mentioned that I was in labor, moreover that my water had already broken, I would have earned myself a first class ambulance ride as far as my principal was concerned. There was one and then two and three teachers who became aware. One asked if I could cover the second assembly. I explained that I wasn't comfortable doing so because I may need to leave with short notice. This left her a bit frazzled and a teacher who encountered her down the hall put two and two together and kept checking on me periodically. </div><div><br></div><div>In the meantime, I put Jeff to work doing some heavy lifting. I needed some overhead projectors moved and would have done so myself, but since he was there.... He needed some "busy-work" as he was getting antsy. My first labor experience was speedier in one sense so he wasn't used to all this waiting around nonsense. He expressed that he could have gone out to Starbucks...he kept asking, "Anything!?!" I kept replying, "Really...really?!?" </div><div><br></div><div>Sometime around 10 AM, the midwife checked in and I explained that I was at work. She chuckled. I explained that it really made the most sense. And it did because my workplace is ten minutes (if that) from the birth center. Then she broke the news to me that unless I could hold out until 6PM, I wouldn't be having the baby at the birth center. There was no nursing coverage there. So we would be at Einstein Montgomery. That's a little further away. I was comforted before at being close to the birth center. Things started to pick up a bit but contractions still seemed somewhat erratic. They didn't seem to be evenly spaced or always getting closer together. There was also an end of year luncheon I was really hoping to make it to, but that would not be happening. A mere 20 minutes before the luncheon, it was time to go. To at least get closer to our final destination. </div><div><br></div><div>I called the midwife to let her know my next plan. I told her we were going to drive in that direction, pick up lunch, maybe go for a walk to get things moving along. She laughed and asked if we were going to Plymouth Meeting Mall. I told her I was thinking of the Farm Park, a large park with a walking trail that just so happens to be (literally) across the street from the hospital campus. So we went. And we picked up hoagies from Wawa. At that point I was still hungry. Evidently, two breakfasts were not enough. We parked at the Farm Park and I got out of the car. I started to walk to a lovely picnic table then remarked to Jeff that instead I would sit on this rock right here in the middle of the parking lot. This behavior he was familiar with. During my first labor on the way into the hospital, I sat on a speedbump. He said something to the effect of, "This is more like it." We eventually made it to the table but by that point I knew it was time to cross the street. I encouraged him to eat his lunch as we didn't know how long the next portion of our journey would take. Sadly, I looked at my sandwich and couldn't imagine eating it at that moment. I called the midwife again and she surprised me that she "knew" and had left after our last conversation. She had called ahead, the hospital had my room ready and she would be there in five minutes. </div><div><br></div><div>After Jeff finished, we somehow got back to the car and across the street. He dropped me off at the outdoor eating area tables by the front door while he parked the car. He got to me. He then went back to the car to get the only thing we really needed inside: a cooler. More on that in another post. In the meantime, Ronni arrived asking if I was out for a refreshing afternoon and we all walked in together. I felt so supported by both my husband and my midwife. We joked in the elevator and as we walked back. We went directly into our room and got down to business. We arrived in the room at about 2:30. </div><div><br></div><div>Unlike my first birth, I had complete freedom to move as I saw fit. I still went very internal but tried things that were suggested and spoke up when I didn't like something. Monitoring was still necessary as the baby's heart rate was hard to gauge. But Ronni did the most amazing thing. She literally followed me with the monitor. I went to the bathroom, she followed and monitored. I changed positions, she followed and monitored. If monitoring has to happen, that's the way to do it. Like with my first birth, I knew the best way to figure out what might be causing any issues with the baby's heart rate was to figure it out outside my body. Being free to get into a natural birthing position, he was born quickly at 3:59 PM. His cord was wrapped around his neck but Ronni deftly removed it and he revived right away. She advocated for any measurements to be done quickly to get my baby back to me but she also was realistic about some repairs that needed to happen on my end too. </div><div><br></div><div>The nurses kept asking if she wanted pitocin. I was so confused. First, the baby was already here, why on earth would I need/want pitocin now? I have since learned that research has shown pitocin post-birth helps to significantly reduce the chance of uterine rupture and has become a standard of care. There is a high likelihood that I received pitocin after my first birth and was never even told - add that to my list of grievances. Generally speaking, pitocin is a synthetic form of oxytocin which is produced naturally when a baby breastfeeds so if immediate skin to skin and breastfeeding are encouraged, oxytocin will follow which will also reduce the chance of uterine rupture. Off soapbox.</div><div><br></div><div>When Elliot returned to my arms, he latched right away and ate like a champ. I was filled with bliss. He was and is perfect. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1xfCzx6TwwpxVHQqW9AISyC1isubGlYK01szvSnwXF7w-zl2ltcwMctgnHONhOWTxt-h9AHq_CwuflPAbPoN6VvK8eiiH66qytKthuuK-flkAvjW-r1tFKyr12RF35rzVeNCyOrlDphs/s640/blogger-image-553403208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1xfCzx6TwwpxVHQqW9AISyC1isubGlYK01szvSnwXF7w-zl2ltcwMctgnHONhOWTxt-h9AHq_CwuflPAbPoN6VvK8eiiH66qytKthuuK-flkAvjW-r1tFKyr12RF35rzVeNCyOrlDphs/s640/blogger-image-553403208.jpg"></a></div>Elliot Orion Zschunke</div><div>6-17-13</div><div>8lb 2oz</div><div><br></div><div>While we did not experience a birth center birth (technically) we truly had a positive and liberating experience to birth in a natural way within our four walls that just happened to be within a hospital. I am so happy that institutions exist that still trust women's ability to bring babies into this world without unnecessary interventions and that support midwives to do the work they do best.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSjyX218_mPZve-AtwAsESCa1f5xFzsY2WuagtSU-Iag9o19PiGVcNyMPHzv358w_Ms8cH_fzk7mpPYOq4Ogco7aNnreA_eqdKIva4X6-5XFGWQOXBpT6CEUZVD8HZUrkPuqH2wjjOl5W/s640/blogger-image-726511374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSjyX218_mPZve-AtwAsESCa1f5xFzsY2WuagtSU-Iag9o19PiGVcNyMPHzv358w_Ms8cH_fzk7mpPYOq4Ogco7aNnreA_eqdKIva4X6-5XFGWQOXBpT6CEUZVD8HZUrkPuqH2wjjOl5W/s640/blogger-image-726511374.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Family Selfie</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfPIN6gQLDmNa7gdxY49tT8yJPWJAsH6NSv6e08wR_b3RYq06BRiSFh_HU4IknsJgBzx3XCy5esZKSgnk2TOcyHb0LgSEsAkeFXWumaxT-Ye_mjP9s7554Uqp9OHLFp39FQYseK6WoS3Y/s640/blogger-image-35388470.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfPIN6gQLDmNa7gdxY49tT8yJPWJAsH6NSv6e08wR_b3RYq06BRiSFh_HU4IknsJgBzx3XCy5esZKSgnk2TOcyHb0LgSEsAkeFXWumaxT-Ye_mjP9s7554Uqp9OHLFp39FQYseK6WoS3Y/s640/blogger-image-35388470.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Skin to Skin with Daddy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm2iaPJfLSZxR9tTUUARct0jCAiTLCapUnwjh0WHXGAyL36-ofLooxnaRWb-6adoj84cNzcy6ddLiMEennTQw9t38pRtw1g9Kjz2pNGAnkSre8VSAI3-NPmA2uAZeWeSg416LWENJkhjSO/s640/blogger-image-1753374939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm2iaPJfLSZxR9tTUUARct0jCAiTLCapUnwjh0WHXGAyL36-ofLooxnaRWb-6adoj84cNzcy6ddLiMEennTQw9t38pRtw1g9Kjz2pNGAnkSre8VSAI3-NPmA2uAZeWeSg416LWENJkhjSO/s640/blogger-image-1753374939.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Our amazing midwife, Ronni Rothman</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBh07Gjn19_1S2tz5_lHdeeSd5JwoVp_NwUqEyVi3B1lZTVogdUkjcFXDdidwnD6HQXQEjcrLRN1cCy83eJ-MNUa1bXmxYVYjvMLuMnXA0AvUiK-67Atq5q62O3O7_3EJvtooFcvAXz1zd/s640/blogger-image--1000410530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBh07Gjn19_1S2tz5_lHdeeSd5JwoVp_NwUqEyVi3B1lZTVogdUkjcFXDdidwnD6HQXQEjcrLRN1cCy83eJ-MNUa1bXmxYVYjvMLuMnXA0AvUiK-67Atq5q62O3O7_3EJvtooFcvAXz1zd/s640/blogger-image--1000410530.jpg"></a></div>Heading Home!</div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-278482796946293342013-10-08T09:28:00.001-04:002013-10-08T09:28:38.383-04:00The Belly 2012-2013Since I did not post "belly" pictures on a weekly basis here faithfully as I did during my first pregnancy, I created a video compilation instead. Enjoy! Look for ultrasound photos, weekly pictures of Elliot and a birth story coming soon!<br />
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<object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" height="243" id="vp1eb1Ae" width="432"><param name="movie" value="http://static.animoto.com/swf/w.swf?w=swf/production/vp1&e=1381238841&f=eb1AeAKX6HsV5NlEpYMjjw&d=0&m=a&r=360p&volume=100&start_res=360p&i=m&asset_domain=s3-p.animoto.com&animoto_domain=animoto.com&options="></param>
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<embed id="vp1eb1Ae" src="http://static.animoto.com/swf/w.swf?w=swf/production/vp1&e=1381238841&f=eb1AeAKX6HsV5NlEpYMjjw&d=0&m=a&r=360p&volume=100&start_res=360p&i=m&asset_domain=s3-p.animoto.com&animoto_domain=animoto.com&options=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="432" height="243"></embed></object>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-9811952808051558452013-10-01T10:13:00.003-04:002013-10-01T10:13:22.353-04:00Guess What...I Had a Baby!Seriously though, I did. And I'll tell you about it as well as what his big sister, Cece's been up to lately...working on it :) Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-37102159904702530512013-05-20T08:00:00.000-04:002013-05-20T08:00:09.666-04:00My good friend, BraxtonDuring my pregnancy with Cece, I experienced Braxton Hicks contractions once. One afternoon, while still at school, I experienced contractions that I thought could be the beginning of the real deal. I drove home (at the end of the school day), and continued to time them. They petered out to nothing. I chalked it up to Braxton Hicks contractions. <br />
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During this pregnancy, for weeks already, I've been experiencing contractions. Not at all regular, just definite "toning" contractions, getting my body ready. And they feel just like contractions (well, how early contractions feel to me). Not painful, necessarily, but an involuntary tightening of the muscles. Like two hands wrapping around the top of my uterus for the sides and giving a nice squeeze. My stomach will feel hard to the touch and then relax, and then the baby will kick and squirm and move. <br />
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My midwife indicated that these contractions are probably what helped to get his head down. Oh! I forgot to mention that piece of good news. He is head down! And has been that way for a while now. One thing about the possible polyhydramnios is that he has a veritable Olympic size swimming pool in there and could just as easily turn again, but I'm just going to be happy that he's in position for now and go with that.<br />
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Anyway, back to contractions. So, for people who know how quick my last labor was, this can be a bit unnerving. My sister asked, "How do you know they're not real contractions." I know. Well...I guess I don't, but I'm pretty sure. I will know when I can't stand through them that THEN they are real. So, that will help. So, if you see me clutch at my stomach, don't be alarmed. If you see me curled up in a ball on the floor, that might mean...something.<br />
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Also, the name Braxton is starting to grow on me.Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-54879897830525530382013-05-19T08:00:00.000-04:002013-05-19T08:00:06.060-04:00Group B Strep - Prevention is the best MedicineThe next adventure will be the Group B Strep culture. 36 week appointment will be a big day! I tested negative for Group B Strep during my first pregnancy, but a friend who tested positive during her second pregnancy raised my awareness of what a positive reading would mean. Four hours of antibiotics prior to delivery of a baby. And, if labor is longer, antibiotics every four hours. So, this hadn't occurred to me before, but I try to avoid antibiotics if I can find a natural way to remedy an issue. And (knock on wood), we haven't had an infection with Cece that required antibiotics yet. And I like it that way. Antibiotics are a modern medical miracle, but so are probiotics and having a healthy overall system. Overuse can throw things off. And use before baby is even born can really throw things off, before they even get a chance. That said, Group B Strep is serious business. If passed to a newborn, there can be complications. I don't make less of that. But, after some research, it seems there are measures I can take to prevent a positive reading and that I can continue to administer to prevent a positive environment during labor and delivery. And I plan to. For anyone looking, here's the code words you need to know:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Garlic</li>
<li>Hydrogen Peroxide</li>
<li>Tea Tree Oil (diluted)</li>
<li>Yogurt</li>
<li>Probiotics</li>
</ul>
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Have fun!!</div>
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<br />Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-12209424143249179632013-05-18T08:00:00.000-04:002013-05-18T08:00:01.106-04:00Fluid LevelsSo, I posted a little about the possibility of polyhydramnios this time around in my <a href="http://ellenzschunke.blogspot.com/2013/04/natrum-muriaticum.html">Natrum Muriaticum</a> post. That was before my ultrasound and after using natrum muriaticum. At the time, my fundal height was measuring 2 weeks ahead. I did some personal research and looked back at my notes from my first pregnancy. Fortunately, my neurotic self who had lots of time on her hands during her first pregnancy kept meticulous notes. So, I went into the ultrasound armed with a pre-conceived notion of how many units of fluid would qualify me as having high fluid. Granted, my midwife caught onto this nonsense a bit earlier in this pregnancy than my OB did in my last pregnancy. My notes indicate that I was measured at 34 weeks and 36 weeks during my last pregnancy and my ultrasound this time around fell during my 32nd week. So, the percentiles are evidently different depending on how far along the pregnancy is, etc. Last time around my fluid measurements were 29.4 and 30, respectively. This time around it was 21~22 and it was declared "upper limit to normal". I heard normal...did you hear normal? When I went to the midwife an hour later, she indicated that that was all well and good, but 12-15 is more like "normal." And, the Fetal Diagnostic Center had already scheduled a follow up ultrasound for 36 weeks, so I upped the ante on the Natrum Muriaticum and I'm hoping for the best. <br />
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Again, since these posts have been sporadic at best, I might as well combine the latest and greatest information. In the meantime, my super positive and supportive husband decided and convinced me that the Natrum Muriaticum MUST be working because I was shrinking before his very eyes. Definitely more compact. Definitely... <br />
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I had another appointment with my midwife two weeks later. Instead of measuring 2 weeks ahead, I measured 3-4 weeks ahead. So, at 34 weeks, my fundal height measured 37-38 cm. <br />
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Jeff just couldn't believe it. We looked at pictures from my pregnancy. We have one for each week. He said...see, here...it's really big, but then it gets smaller. As we clicked through and my belly kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger, and he says, "See here, it's really big, but then..." and then we got to the last and most recent picture. It didn't look like I'd wasted away to nothing. To be kind.<br />
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Here's the play by play from Week 30-34<br />
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Do you see the shrinking?</div>
Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-19048514559177728612013-05-17T20:09:00.004-04:002013-05-17T20:09:55.502-04:00Tight PantsSo, this is now a few weeks ago as I intended to post in a much more expeditious manner to update you all about my ultrasound, fluid levels, etc. But, first things first. On a very "Monday" Monday, I found myself sitting at a desk for an inordinate amount of time. And when I stood up and went to walk, I found myself in an excruciating pain. So, I sat down again. And googled. It felt like what I imagined round ligament pain would feel like. And I'd been anticipating experiencing round ligament pain because this was my second pregnancy and that's what I've been told to expect. So, I did. So, I googled round ligament pain. And it indicated it would be a sharp pain. Yes. That would last a few moments and pass. Um, no. And then I panicked. This was what everyone talked about. The utter pain of being pregnant. Thus far, I had been so lucky, so fortunate, to feel comfortable during pregnancy. But now, all that was over. I'd be in pain for the remainder. Alas, it had come time to walk students back to class. And so, I did. Or, well, I hobbled. And I talked to a teacher that I had borrowed a pregnancy support belt from before and tried to figure out if I had it somewhere or had returned it. And then I went to the bathroom. And when the waist band of my pants was no longer cutting off the circulation just below what used to be my waist, the pain went away. Completely. I had reached the point in pregnancy when all pants needed to have a very stretchy, very large panel. Or else I couldn't walk. NBD. So I called Jeff and my amazing, stupendous, wonderful man of a husband drove a new pair of pants to my place of work so that I could get changed. It was that or mumus from here on out.<br />
<br />
In COMPLETELY different news, one of my amazing cousins created a video "redux" of Tight Pants Body Rolls. A song I'd never heard of before she did so. And since you may not have either, I will post the original video as well because the resemblance is uncanny. Enjoy as you laugh at my tight pants and hers.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Iz5YUsfHn8U" width="420"></iframe>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/J1c2KzJbcGA" width="420"></iframe>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-59582320904244487402013-04-28T08:00:00.000-04:002013-04-28T08:00:04.729-04:00Natrum MuriaticumWith my first pregnancy, I had polyhrdramnios, a condition in which there is too much amniotic fluid. The opposite condition, oligohydramnios, is more dangerous, but both carry their risks. With this pregnancy, I had one appointment where our midwife thought I might have too much fluid, but then at the next appointment, she was certain I did not. At my most recent appointment, she was pretty sure I did. And, so it begins. My fundal height is measuring two weeks ahead. I'm looking big again. It all makes sense. During my pregnancy with Cece, I looked on the bright side. I got so many more "pictures" of the baby during ultrasound to measure fluid depth. It was deemed "idiopathic" meaning, there was no known reason, i.e. nothing was wrong with the baby. And, that it was unlikely that I would experience the same condition with another pregnancy. So, that was good. But, for this pregnancy, I was really looking forward to fewer pictures, less risk, more "normal". When the midwife had me schedule an ultrasound, it felt like a loss. It was also a realization that...it's me. This is something my body does when pregnant. And that made me sad. I feel like I put my babies at risk. The midwife discussed some possibly necessary measures to control the birth and the release of waters to minimize the risk of a prolapsed cord, or a prolapsed foot for that matter. Because...in addition to polyhydramnios, or perhaps because of it, he's not flipping over...yet. There's still time, of course, but time's ticking, kid. He was transverse, meaning he was lying sideways, but at my last appointment, he was foot first. So, after all of my appointments at the birth center, I still might end up in a hospital setting. But, I feel like I trust my midwife and her instincts and would still feel more comfortable in the hospital with her than with anyone else. She also had some suggestions for managing the extra fluid. A homeopathic remedy called Natrum Muriaticum. It should balance the fluid. So, I've been taking a dose each night and, if nothing else, it makes me feel like I'm doing something proactive. I wish I had known about this during my first pregnancy, so that's why I wanted to share out about it. I've also been doing some specific yoga exercises to encourage this little guy to move it already, especially while he does all of this extra swimming pool room to do so. My ultrasound is this Tuesday, as well as my next appointment, and fingers crossed that they'll find something positive, either lower fluid than expected, or a baby that has figured out he's supposed to be upside down already. <br />
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And, continuing with looking at the positive. All this extra fluid is probably what makes me feel perfectly comfortable during pregnancy...except for, well you'll read all about it in the next post.... I feel the baby kick much more this time around, but I'm not short of breath, I don't feel like he's damaging any internal organs, etc. Overall, I can't complain. I feel so lucky and blessed, and we'll work through any challenges from here to the end. <br />
<br />
Did I mention that he seems to move more than I remember feeling Cece move? Did I mention that Cece's a pretty active kid? Oy.Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-20396619111876591412013-04-27T10:08:00.002-04:002013-04-27T10:08:26.010-04:00The Housing CrisisSo, we hear about the housing market pretty frequently on the news. And things are looking better, but for those of you that were in the dark for about a year, which was...everyone, after a while, I wanted to catch you up on our very own, personal housing crisis.<br />
<br />
Our condo was on the market for one season, from March-November in 2011. We had lots of "interest". One potential buyer came through 3 times! So, our price stayed stagnant that season because we thought that buyer was...buying. She didn't. That's ok. When it came down in November, we had someone call our realtor to say they were interested, and we were about to put it back up for them to make the purchase...then they said they weren't <i>that</i> interested. Like not <i>right now</i>.<br />
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So, it came down, and when it came time to re-list, we did some homework. We interviewed three realtors and decided upon Helwig Realtors. Mandy Helwig is AWESOME! She works her butt off to make things right when they are wrong, to market the house to every possible corner of the earth, and talk it up to all of her various connections, and it pays off. She generally sells homes quickly. And that's exactly what we were interested in. Not exactly what we got, but we'll get there.<br />
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We listed. Mandy took awesome pictures that showcased our home's unique features. We had open houses scheduled well in advance, lots of showings, lots of interest. Mandy was proactive with changing the price if interest dropped based on cold, hard numbers. The internet doesn't lie (well, actually it does...frequently, but that's a different wiki-story), and if no one's looking, something must change. So, it did. And then we got THE call. The call that said someone wanted to buy our house, and they wanted us to not have an open house the following weekend, and they wanted to put in an offer in, and they wanted to BUY our house. And it was all so real. We were set to make settlement June 29th. A date I may never forget. We packed, and cleaned, and packed, and moved. Fortunately for the rest of this post, our plan all along was to move into my mother's house with the intent to buy the property from my parents. Otherwise, it would have all been much more crippling. I'm incredibly fortunate to have such a supportive and understanding family. So, we moved on June 27th because..well, we were making settlement on June 29th. All made sense to me. Then we got a call on June 28th...that we were...not making settlement on June 29th. <br />
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It would take another two week to process more information on the buyer's end. So, settlement was rescheduled to the middle of July. But, that got bumped another two weeks. Then I got a call on the day of Cece's birthday party that that wasn't going to happen either. There are reasons, which I probably shouldn't have known, but I did. But it wouldn't be right to share those details about our buyer with the world. So I won't. But there were reasons. And, at this point, in hindsight I should have been much smarter. But I wasn't. So, here's what happened next.<br />
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The buyer was all set to move...because he thought it would go through too. So, they offered to rent the property until the settlement could happen. At this point, the belief was that settlement could happen the middle of September, based on...information. The rent they paid covered our mortgage, association fee, and a little extra. Since no one else had jumped in to offer to buy the property, this all sounded good. Worst case scenario, the mortgage was being covered for the time being. <br />
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September's settlement came and went. We had a settlement scheduled every two weeks through the end of November. I stopped believing they would happen. I stopped putting in for time off of work. I got one cancellation of settlement call during a wedding reception in which I was a bridesmaid. Bummer. In the meantime, our buyer/renter had signed an agreement not to have pets on the property. But they did. Lots. And his "wife" never moved in, and his daughter was out. of. control. And I got to hear about all of this from my disgruntled neighbors. And, it just wasn't happening. 9, that's right NINE settlement dates came and went. So, we had to do something. We met with our realtor and drafted a letter that if we could not close by the end of December, we would need the tenants to vacate the property (with three additional months notice, so by the end of March) in order to re-list the property. The response. We are getting a divorce, wife moved out, cat died, we'll be out sooner. Technically, they needed to provide us more notice, but I didn't care. What did irritate me. Wife moved out. Nope. She never moved in. My first thought - why lie? But at this point, very little surprised me.<br />
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When I went in to clean, the allergies were too much. We hired cleaners to come in. They did ok. We looked at the carpets. Some of them needed to be replaced. We requested the same carpet to match the parts that were fine. The carpet guy put in a different color, and a different pile. At this point, I thought I'd have a nervous breakdown. I envisioned sinking more money into ripping out the carpets, or paying to carpet the rest of the condo to match the new carpet. <br />
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Fun anecdote. Cece was with us when I went over to check the carpets. I was upset. I might have cried, I don't remember. But when we went home, my mom asked how the carpets were and I told her they were fine because I didn't want her to worry or get upset. She was already pretty annoyed with our tenants and it wasn't helping. So, I told her they were fine, knowing that somehow we would get it fixed. She asked Cece the next morning about the carpets and Cece said, "Mommy was NOT happy."<br />
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On the day I checked our carpets, we had a showing scheduled for the next day. I wanted to cancel the showing until the carpets got sorted out. Painters were on their way too. Fortunately, I did not. That showing turned into a second showing, and an offer. A REAL offer, with 20% down. Now, the offer was nowhere near our asking price, but the thought of paying the mortgage through a season and hoping for the best was looking grim at best. So, we took it. And cut our losses. Literally.<br />
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In retrospect, we bought a house during a peak (2005...could have been worse, right?), and effectively sold our house during a low (2011-12). And, we lived to tell the tale. Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-20536170785074807402013-01-03T16:00:00.000-05:002013-01-03T16:00:04.559-05:00Onion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is not a post about the fake news outlet, The Onion. Also, I know I should be blogging about this pregnancy already, but this post is about to take precedence. Trust me. So, on NYE, a friend of a friend mentioned some FB reading she had recently done on onions and two divergent thoughts.<br />
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1) Leaving a cut onion in a bowl will help if you have a cold (because allegedly, it draws toxins from the air and absorbs them, so it takes the "sick" out of your body). Evidently, this was done throughout history when the flu or the plague came around and people would put out bowls of cut onion in each room or on the window sill, etc. I haven't done enough research to back all the historical justifications up, but maybe I will.<br />
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2) When you do cut a raw onion, you should cook it or eat it right away, not store it, because (allegedly) it will also absorb the toxins from your refrigerator or the plastic container you store them in. The thought being that you should not eat that onion that has been stored because it now holds toxins. (This is the part that seemed mighty <a href="http://www.snopes.com/food/tainted/cutonions.asp">snopes</a>-worthy...and was).<br />
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So, my personal cold, sniffles, coughing, sneezing recent history. On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, it was the worst. I had a runny nose, sore throat, cough, etc. So did Cece. Not what either of us hoped Santa would deliver for Christmas. I tried two Pinterest natural health remedies which were both effective but temporary fixes at best.<br />
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<a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/90283167501539089/">Eucalyptus Oil on Feet</a><br />
<a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/90283167501201630/">The "Good" Stuff</a><br />
<a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/90283167501541969/">And lots and lots of Marshmallows</a><br />
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Also, Jeff was amazing at helping out with Cece so I could get plenty of the one thing I needed most: rest.<br />
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Fast forward to a week later. Through NYE (because it's a holiday, so why wouldn't I get sick again - ugh) my nose started getting congested, so basically the opposite of what I had experienced before. Not runny, stuffy. To the not breathing through your nose extent that really impedes with sleeping and you end up with a really dry mouth and...you get the idea. Sinus headaches ensued. I went back to school on Wednesday and was losing my voice...again. Oh, and I had decided the Neti pot would help. Did that Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. With no success. The most annoying thing for a Neti pot user is to stand there with it pressed to your nostril with no progress. No flow, no clearing. That's when you know it's clogged up in there. So, Wednesday night, I made a recipe for dinner that necessitated half of an onion. And I looked at the other half and I thought.<br />
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I already had placed very little stock in #2 above. I found it unlikely that eating cut, stored onions would do me harm, so I was not trying to avoid storing the onion. I also am pretty willing to try any natural remedies, and the idea that #1 COULD work or do anything was very enticing to me. At least it couldn't hurt, right?<br />
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So, I left the cut onion out and did some research. I can't seem to find the original story, though I'd imagine it's the same one originally referenced on <a href="http://www.snopes.com/food/tainted/cutonions.asp">Snopes</a> with a factory tour and a chemist. If anyone has the original and could post it in the comments, that would be great. What I did find were a bunch of myth-busting, <a href="http://www.hoax-slayer.com/onions-magnet-bacteria.shtml">hoax-slaying</a>, <a href="http://www.snopes.com/food/tainted/cutonions.asp">Snopes</a> websites that busted that story up. So, just so you all know. But there were still references to the historical use of cut onions around the house during or to prevent sickness. So, I went with that part. I removed the peel entirely, and cut the onion into smaller chunks figuring more exposed area would be better. The original suggestion had been to put it by the bed overnight. Oh, and another part said it would turn black "proving" that it had absorbed all those toxins from your body. It did not. <br />
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I wasn't quite at bedtime yet, so I walked around the house with my bowl of cut up onions. Figured that couldn't hurt. Forget holding your head over a steaming pot, hold your head over a bowl of onion. So, I do not know how effective this would be with an already runny nose, but for a stuffy nose. Magic. You know how a cut onion makes your eyes water and your nose run? Voila. Forward motion with my nose, loosening, clearing. Instantly. Seriously. I used the Neti pot before I started carrying my onion around and...nothing. Two hours later after sucking in some onion fumes, Niagra Falls. Straight shot. Clear through. No pressure. When I did go to bed, I kept the onion by our bed. If I started to feel stuffy, I held my head over the bowl and inhaled deeply. Since Cece loves sleeping with us, she generally joins the party halfway through the night. She's still had a cough, especially aggravated when horizontal in bed. She slept through the rest of the night with NO coughing. People. This is crazy. In the morning, I was reluctant to ditch our onion. It's the only one in the house right now. I was also reluctant to take it away from my sleeping baby's side. So, I split the chunks in half and put half in a container and left half by the bedside. I'm bringing my half to school. Apologies in advance that I, (and possibly after today the library) smell of onion. But trust me, it's good stuff. Quite frankly, I'm frightened that my nose will stuff right back up. I'm an onion addict. We also clearly need to stock up on more onions. Clearly.<br />
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<br />Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-77997147561720470532012-12-06T16:26:00.000-05:002012-12-06T16:28:46.268-05:00Happy Holidays<iframe frameborder="0" height="758" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://edu.glogengine.com/view/rSLpaPv8JEnHhNmbfFfw:6l41m2a2hu36fv59b5sk4a0" style="overflow: hidden;" width="560"></iframe><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://ontheshelf4kids.edu.glogster.com/happy-holidays-announcement-2012/">Our Holiday Card</a></span>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-88139070783855935462012-07-14T08:00:00.000-04:002012-07-21T11:01:49.982-04:00Dear Daughter 2012<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Dear Daughter,</div>
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Today, you turned three and your daddy and I couldn’t be
more proud of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your
personality has really shone through this year, though you’ve never been a
shrinking violet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will often
squinch up one, if not both, eyes when asking a particularly philosophical
question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will run your
fingers through your long flowing locks (ahem) when you are flustered and stand
with a hand on your hip when taking a stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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You’ve been known to stomp when you really want to make your
point but with the gift of an ever growing vocabulary, you are able to fluently
and clearly communicate your every wish and desire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been known to explain that you don’t always get what
you want, but still, you do let us know what you want and for that I admire you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In your third year, you continue to be
petrified of Santa Claus as well as ANY other large costumed character.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You seem (wisely) mistrustful of them,
skeptical and wanting to keep your distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately for you, I am your mother, and I still feel
that the BEST Santa pictures are ones where the child (you) are screaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And you always deliver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day, this fear will fade, but until
then I will document that moment in time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You
went through a strong skirt/dress phase this year and have shown your
preference for all shoes high heeled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Again, unfortunately for you, I am your mother, and your selection of
high heeled dress up shoes is rather limited, but you found and wore every
pair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would often come home from
work to find all my shoes splayed out on the closet/bedroom floor with a trail
leading into the living room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One
of the phrases I’ve now heard you utter often made my heart soar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That happens sometimes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure daddy and I both said it
often, cementing it in your brain for when something unfortunate would
happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At a Phillies game in the late spring,
you insisted on sitting on your own seat and at one point tried to get down from
your seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Picture the scene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are literally in the last/highest
row of the stadium with our backs to the chain link fence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has just begun to pour heavily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You caught one foot on the seat and
tipped forward and caught your mouth on the seat in front of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart in my throat, I scooped you up
as you screamed bloody murder and, for that matter, spat blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being the determined, independent, and
all the same at that moment, embarrassed young woman that you are, you refused
to let me look in your mouth and my thoughts raced through all of the worst
case scenarios (something I don’t often do with you): broken teeth or biting
your tongue or some other eventuality that happens to people who don’t stop
often enough to count their blessings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As it was, you had a bump inside your lip and that was it, but I had to wait
until you were asleep at home in your bed to check.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next morning, when you described to daddy that you had
fallen (you saw a scrape on your knee, also a result of the fall) you said,
“That happens sometimes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so
proud of your resilience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly
because one year old Cece used to wail and faint away at the sight of a cut on
her knee, each and every time she spied it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You used to ask us to put pants or dresses on long enough to
cover any scrapes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this time,
“That happens sometimes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was
a big step in growing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you
can stop now…with all this growing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes I want to freeze you right where you are, but I’m also curious
to know who you will grow up to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As you would say, “Cecelia Ann Zschunke.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Though
your vocabulary is growing every day, you still sometimes say things
grammatically wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some people
correct you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It won’t last forever, these nuances in speech.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean to document them with a sound or
video recorder and then another day is over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well spent, running through the sprinkler, playing at the
pool, conducting epic tea parties, playing with friends, making new friends,
going to the playground/park/store/library, visiting with family and friends
and going to “another” place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
those moments, daddy says you are my daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always trying to squeeze in just one more place into the
day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You’re
very independent, wanting to do it yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are whole shows dedicated to DIY-ers like
yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is when having us
as parents comes in handy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because
whenever possible, we DO let you do it yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You break eggs into the bowl (sometimes with some hand over
hand help), stir ingredients, mix batter, load and unload the dishwasher, put
clothes into and take them out of (with the help of a stepstool) the washer and
dryer, put on clothes, take off clothes, go to the potty by yourself, spread
cream cheese/peanut butter/butter yourself, cut your hot dog into pieces (by
yourself).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you getting the
idea here?</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For
as much as you like to do things by yourself, you still like mommy and daddy to
carry you, to be close to us and snuggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of your phrases that I don’t correct is “Cally (sounds like carry)
me” with arms outstretched up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One
thing you don’t like to do by yourself lately is go to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve been through a tricky transition
to a new house and we can chalk it up to that, but you love some mommy time at
bedtime and at any point throughout the night that you deem company necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that all these moments will be
fleeting and I’ll look back unable to remember all the details.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I try to treasure our night time
rendezvous, but sometimes that can be hard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At
the tail end of your third year, we semi-successfully sold our home, a 2
bedroom condo where you came home to from the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have so many happy memories in that
home and loved it, but it was time to move on to our next adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is in mom-mom’s house!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have loved having more time with
mom-mom and I think mom-mom has liked it a little too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You often have tea parties and snuggle up to enjoy a movie
with mom-mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She taught you all
about Goldilocks and loves to walk you out to the mailbox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are lucky to have such a generous
mom-mom who has welcomed us to share her roof.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Big
girl, today you are three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which
you will tell anyone who will listen as you hold up three fingers, though not
the traditional three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You extend
your pinkie, ring finger, and middle finger while you hold your pointer finger
and thumb together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will also
break into the Happy Birthday song on command.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, we celebrate with friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve recently expressed a real love for art or “aaatt” and
thoroughly enjoy crafting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today,
you have an “arty party”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the
party for you is every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
wake up with excitement for what is to come whether it is your birthday or…a
Tuesday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s all the same to
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> You have become such a caring and thoughtful friend to others. I love to see you hug, kiss, and hold hands with friends. You are gentle with babies and you share with peers...for the most part. You get SO excited to see friends and spend time doing just about anything with them - swimming, going to the park, playing in a box, it doesn't matter.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This
year, you start preschool and you have been excited to begin for many months
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We registered in February and
you were ready to take the bus (which you won’t be doing) with your backpack
(which you’re not allowed to take to preschool) the very next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re happy that you’re happy and I
hope that in your fourth year as you enter preschool in September that every
day is one filled with wonder.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We love you, Cece!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Love, Mommy and Daddy</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-65978143927612427472012-05-05T21:20:00.001-04:002013-05-17T23:42:56.353-04:00MayHow fitting that I read this in the month of May. This one line is from a poem called "May" and found in the book "White Pine". It is one line from a longer poem about a snake and fear and the letting go of fear.<br />
<br />
I hope to see everything in this world before I die.<br />
<br />
~Mary OliverEllen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-13177384983978099092012-05-05T21:18:00.001-04:002013-05-17T23:42:42.517-04:00Life#11 from "In Backwater Woods" as found in the book: "White Pine" <br />
<br />
Each moment has been so slow and so full<br />
and so drenched in sweetness and my life<br />
has gone by so fast<br />
<br />
~Mary OliverEllen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-26313109298055719252012-05-05T21:16:00.001-04:002013-05-17T23:42:28.079-04:00National Poetry MonthWAS in April but I've been inspired in May to read some poetry. After reading Kelle Hampton's book, "Bloom", she makes reference to discovering the work of poet, Mary Oliver, through a blogging friend and the quote that begins the books is from a poem by Mary Oliver. So, I requested some of Oliver's books of poetry from the library. And did some discovering of my own. I will share some of my favorite bits and pieces as I come across them.Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-12061940650216794332012-05-05T21:12:00.001-04:002012-05-06T16:00:01.635-04:00"Bloom" where you're plantedI recently finished reading Kelle Hampton's book, "Bloom." And it was/is beautiful. I read it upon a friend's recommendation without any idea what it was about. And so, I'm not planning to tell you either. I will tell you a little about how I got it. It was not available from the public library, my first line of book reading defense. Yet. If they are smart, they will invest in a copy. I looked it up on a website designed to purchase books online but also benefit an independent bookstore. My favorite indie bookstore is Doylestown Bookstore. But, I also get a monthly coupon there and couldn't use it if I purchased online. So, I called the store, they ordered the book and called me when it was in and I had an excuse to go to Doylestown that evening too. I've been trying to do a lot more local shopping. I already try to eat local through my CSA, but like so many people, I've fallen into the convenience over the years of going to Target, or the mall to purchase items. Likewise, I am a fan of a consignment sale that is held in nearby Bryn Athyn twice a year. I like the opportunity to re-use and recycle items that might have otherwise been thrown away and to make those purchases at a fraction of the normal cost. So, more recently when I'm on the hunt for an item, I'll check a thrift store or a consignment store first. You might not always find what you're looking for, but there are hidden treasures as well. For example, Second Fiddle, a kids consignment store on York Road in Hatboro has brand new, still packaged "Melissa and Doug" items at a lower cost than you would find them in other stores. As well as tons of super cute stuff. Replay Toys on Street Road in Warminster is packed with great stuff. So, I've realized instead of waiting for a twice a year consignment sale, I can do this year round on an a needed basis. I'm also trying to make local choices when eating out and supporting locally owned small restaurants like (my #1 all time favorite) Bryn and Dane's on Horsham Road in Horsham, Basically Burgers and (brand new) Sweet Spot on Main Street in Doylestown. So, while the title of this post refers to a book with an incredible an affirming journey, I would venture to encourage others to do a little new blooming by staying put. Shop close to home. Invest in your local economy by purchasing from a neighbor instead of a huge corporation. You'll save some gas too!<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKiYISvutNVzJNww9RYvH8-B2N_OcRIj7hhdgWfA5RcoRKvL3l1NMONOjtlkmHdiCc78oZAngqmQzlgEXEphyCnkxAcVxHQMk2BS0qgL_zqbJz33BMIhf4DbUW9Z4TrE_WQIzpBud9a37x/s640/blogger-image-945349061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKiYISvutNVzJNww9RYvH8-B2N_OcRIj7hhdgWfA5RcoRKvL3l1NMONOjtlkmHdiCc78oZAngqmQzlgEXEphyCnkxAcVxHQMk2BS0qgL_zqbJz33BMIhf4DbUW9Z4TrE_WQIzpBud9a37x/s640/blogger-image-945349061.jpg" /></a></div>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-81417863213885492862012-04-24T20:54:00.001-04:002012-04-24T20:54:09.121-04:00The Joy Diet Step 1: Do NothingI began to listen to the book, "The Joy Diet" by Martha Beck on audiobook as it was recommended by a friend. I don't consider myself an un-joyful person. Much the opposite, but I'd like to maintain my joyfulness and this seemed like as good a time as any to reflect. Now, I am normally able to buzz through audiobooks pretty well during my commute, but this one threw me for a loop. I am supposed to take one week to practice each step before attempting to incorporate the next one. My memory's not what it used to be, so after step one was completed in the book, I popped it out, recorded what track I was on and got set to return in to the library. I have the print book out as well and that is not due back yet so that will likely be my course for this book. <br />
<br />
Back to step one.<br />
<br />
Do nothing.<br />
<br />
Hmmm, I get the concept, and I get that this can be incredibly difficult. I've been wanting to make meditation a more regular practice so this affords me the opportunity to do so. This morning, before I was finished the chapter, I took five minutes at the end of my time at the gym to find a spot in the yoga room and meditate. I patted myself on the back. Check. I did "nothing" today. For a solid five minutes.<br />
<br />
Then I got back in the car and Martha Beck told me I was supposed to do nothing for at least 15-20 minutes. Sheesh.<br />
<br />
So, tonight I did just that. 15 minutes. Only, after 5 minutes I had to peek at a clock to check the time because I was sure it must have been close to 15 minutes. Then I did the same after another 5 minutes, then another 4. Then I stared down the clock for a full minute. Longest minute ever. At different points I thought about how I would write this blog, then reminded myself to push all "thoughts" out to make room for...nothing. So, it's not a perfect start, but that's why I will make this part of my daily "practice."<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjkNAoAbfxYGl0MXriZG_-euPrDiDz9RKJ9hhmn0-V1x61OaKD0zq66LZrgQPeTyyZTYvGedMFNESsd90Q6JOc_gGHA_Bxbl0lC0sU77_gpI5b6YGgN0hYMhutwifgtzc9fMxn1lPuF3w/s640/blogger-image--1410654621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjkNAoAbfxYGl0MXriZG_-euPrDiDz9RKJ9hhmn0-V1x61OaKD0zq66LZrgQPeTyyZTYvGedMFNESsd90Q6JOc_gGHA_Bxbl0lC0sU77_gpI5b6YGgN0hYMhutwifgtzc9fMxn1lPuF3w/s640/blogger-image--1410654621.jpg" /></a></div>Ellen Zschunkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07041773968420256337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1709820603339490620.post-83728253081046669832012-04-14T08:42:00.001-04:002012-04-14T08:42:34.442-04:00Open House Tomorrow!We are hosting an open house tomorrow from 2-4. Check out our home's website at: http://www.96whetstoneroad.com and take a virtual tour through the awesome photos our realtor, Mandy Helwig, took. <div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb8U_PTAXr0yYX5z3tGa3LvbtaJ2JVn8h3lwkg5uKDlkPSH4THhgUi69EexKOCAwCvf1eZSzSwo4pFdcrtKvVQ87x07D_yKjBuKdZ8RVNHdD0FDLjKwf3mCLTH8_0vWV5K-CDLepK_-Hc/s640/blogger-image-649919867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb8U_PTAXr0yYX5z3tGa3LvbtaJ2JVn8h3lwkg5uKDlkPSH4THhgUi69EexKOCAwCvf1eZSzSwo4pFdcrtKvVQ87x07D_yKjBuKdZ8RVNHdD0FDLjKwf3mCLTH8_0vWV5K-CDLepK_-Hc/s640/blogger-image-649919867.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQ0zcNlcFt66S0VbODskJHnWn0PqPLfDy16IdQCSlViEXU2PE14zkl3eTB6NhRNwroHiRmS3_fBro3BjfG2LhsRf3Llv6ECfq0BI9GDuT_WplMrZjcdBFhNVBp9J5OcQa0HAPszLWk8My/s640/blogger-image--475118979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQ0zcNlcFt66S0VbODskJHnWn0PqPLfDy16IdQCSlViEXU2PE14zkl3eTB6NhRNwroHiRmS3_fBro3BjfG2LhsRf3Llv6ECfq0BI9GDuT_WplMrZjcdBFhNVBp9J5OcQa0HAPszLWk8My/s640/blogger-image--475118979.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvswGlh-YcZrrn9JYWB-kYwymx8zkpCYEtGmXHhdnxaBWHbHp0A8IrbnWAPNJ1B8pcJqc5Up3ItYrZZDAtstqBWOM4yUKCzsbaZefN9Xc8octVCqQetKemR5ihI2RtF-oc_bLq-mGQ7UpO/s640/blogger-image--2027303664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvswGlh-YcZrrn9JYWB-kYwymx8zkpCYEtGmXHhdnxaBWHbHp0A8IrbnWAPNJ1B8pcJqc5Up3ItYrZZDAtstqBWOM4yUKCzsbaZefN9Xc8octVCqQetKemR5ihI2RtF-oc_bLq-mGQ7UpO/s640/blogger-image--2027303664.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevHrPOw5-xlRubglyBWSGXqqzvTHtuJZBTzWSy0VJq3LmQnXF3EqgBqAzUHaRo-HbcYtrytdmlCJ5ivSwLYToBKbMf7JGtYofWr_xKSkR9E_XTfK9-bjotI0PJVCQrW24VJ9rQ40K4fuf/s640/blogger-image--1817497519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevHrPOw5-xlRubglyBWSGXqqzvTHtuJZBTzWSy0VJq3LmQnXF3EqgBqAzUHaRo-HbcYtrytdmlCJ5ivSwLYToBKbMf7JGtYofWr_xKSkR9E_XTfK9-bjotI0PJVCQrW24VJ9rQ40K4fuf/s640/blogger-image--1817497519.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-X25QO8Gkxh9LmFJmRiyOxRmfau0G_eZRI4iiE300aOlULGy9bMrnT0Bcl8t5-aq22o24dUZLryTIAY5lIjHiIRCqH0ShopkogTCE0v8KLTh6xnFyQcQOjBmvgvmMBV7cj3PpYzHA17h/s640/blogger-image-1876337793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-X25QO8Gkxh9LmFJmRiyOxRmfau0G_eZRI4iiE300aOlULGy9bMrnT0Bcl8t5-aq22o24dUZLryTIAY5lIjHiIRCqH0ShopkogTCE0v8KLTh6xnFyQcQOjBmvgvmMBV7cj3PpYzHA17h/s640/blogger-image-1876337793.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4srDLQT4HfQypzHGn-JUtLe-gaNEDiqn9vifC3G2ATFHk2TVcW1h8AAewh3_vjGdbfCZ8Oiwjl5pTTCT18W_baM7i-hS2OMyAZwvWFN6itAvDOpSBgzQqnF_naqbACOZGjChiGo1UPz4Q/s640/blogger-image-210603992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4srDLQT4HfQypzHGn-JUtLe-gaNEDiqn9vifC3G2ATFHk2TVcW1h8AAewh3_vjGdbfCZ8Oiwjl5pTTCT18W_baM7i-hS2OMyAZwvWFN6itAvDOpSBgzQqnF_naqbACOZGjChiGo1UPz4Q/s640/blogger-image-210603992.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX-q225dCl2HQz7nnHTODjS9M_OuWbl6uWXfuo3y0G32-L6YbP-46QKfT9bqu43g2H6H3eeB0xiyMpRKFrvl5fMGG3dd8bNk9i2trso1YqjSrhupc1mYoCPK2TU7gibxZP9LLJtDEwZF0/s640/blogger-image-35373384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX-q225dCl2HQz7nnHTODjS9M_OuWbl6uWXfuo3y0G32-L6YbP-46QKfT9bqu43g2H6H3eeB0xiyMpRKFrvl5fMGG3dd8bNk9i2trso1YqjSrhupc1mYoCPK2TU7gibxZP9LLJtDEwZF0/s640/blogger-image-35373384.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVRo5FHTq0sw5nwfC3wz1Vr0TUcJta5ddQUgYAQZetI-S_z63lU6lx5v8NUbIApyavh8lCRp1WnRbt0xY-oKFqR1EKqaTni_wOowGsE9vgwIPtM8x_fdiD0eLunNp-6jSf7c6Z0cPYjuGG/s640/blogger-image--1177869497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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