tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42698403775431805472024-02-19T12:05:35.053+00:00what in the worrellj.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.comBlogger130125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-10019595746219942902014-03-30T17:57:00.000+01:002014-03-30T17:57:54.600+01:00willow turns 2 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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my eldest daughter, willow, turned 2 years old on friday. and we celebrated it with a winnie the pooh/honeybee themed party. why? well, pooh is her new favourite friend, and she has been known to eat so much honey, that she vomits, so it was a suitable theme for this girl. she thoroughly enjoyed herself, eating her weight in cookies and cake, playing games, surrounded by a few of her little (and big!) friends. and after all was said and done, it was a lovely little birthday party.<br />
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here are some photos...<br />
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gorse, of course. no pooh party is complete without it. </div>
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these past two years have been the hardest, but most joyous years of my life so far. she is the greatest two year old i have ever known. and from the day she was born, she has done her own thing, in her own time and in her own way. </div>
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she is kind, sweet, generous, loving, gentle, sisterly, and completely exhausting. she is growing with such grace, and i am so excited to see the young girl she is becoming. we are so blessed to know her, and call her our own. </div>
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j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-47424892354738132822013-12-05T14:34:00.002+00:002013-12-05T14:36:01.081+00:00that one time clay was in california...oralso known as, that one time that a wonderful lady named kathleen and her great husband allan came to visit, or, that terrible, horrible, abominable sickness that made its home in both my babies.<br />
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like i said, these past few weeks have been a crazy mix of terrible and wonderful. it was the best of times, it was the worst of times! (it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness! wait, where was i?...) yes!<br />
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terrible = clay being gone for two weeks. which was great for him, but kind of a bummer for the three of us. also, both my girls caught a cold! the very first of many many things the two of them will share for years to come! also, this being willow's very first sickness (besides the wonderful side effects of teething) AND a cold for a 6 week old, it was very hard for all of us (i don't think i stopped crying that one whole very worst day). WHICH brings me to my next point!<br />
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wonderful = my long time friend kathleen and her husband allan came to ireland for a visit, and they were gracious enough to hang out with us sickies and keep us company while clay was gone. the poor things. but (victory!) they walked out of this house to their plane without catching the cold! (right??).<br />
anyway, i just love this woman. she has been one of my favourite people for nearly 7 years now, and she just married her man this summer, but the last time i saw her was this time last year, so it was great catching up and picking up right where we left of. plus, the love that they showered on my sick babies was incredible! i just wish that clay was here to spend time with the both of them, cause i know her husband and mine would've gotten on great! guess we are just going to have to meet up for sushi come january?<br />
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here are some pictures of our time.<br />
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(our thanksgiving celebration. on friday. in ireland. not a pilgrim in sight.)</div>
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(ps. thank you <a href="http://kathleenwheeler.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">kathleen</a> for most of these pictures!)</div>
<br />j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-80190991102091973702013-11-20T20:31:00.001+00:002013-11-20T20:35:04.916+00:00those days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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well, I'm 6 weeks in to the hardest year (or so) of my life (at least, thats what all the moms of two under two (two under 1 1/2! gulp!) have told me). and can you guess they were right? yep, good Lord in heaven, they were all right. not that i thought they were lying or exaggerating, in fact, i had tried my hardest to be mentally prepared for the days ahead. although little did it help.<br />
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and not that every day is hard or bad or painfully long. in fact, there have been some pretty awesome days.<br />
you know the ones?<br />
the days when you don't miss a beat.<br />
the days when every need of your child is met at just the right minute and you get to have a shower (bonus if you wash your hair!)(bonus bonus if you get dressed!).<br />
the days when your babies are fed a hearty and healthy breakfast, lunch, and dinner.<br />
the days when a poopy diaper gets changed as soon as its made (i mean, you don't even get to smell thats how on top of it you are!).<br />
tho days when your kids are napping before they get the cranks, and the laundry gets done, and the floor gets swept, and the toilet gets cleaned, and dinner is on the table for when your husband gets home.<br />
(those days i feel like everything should be black and white, and i should have my hair up in pins with a frilly apron around my waist.)<br />
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and then you go to bed feeling pretty proud of yourself. every bit of your body is sore, but your heart is beaming. yeah, thats definitely happened.<br />
but oh, did i forget to mention that i could probably count on one hand that is has? except for that last bit, pretty much every night is a tired body/full heart night.<br />
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and then there are other days.<br />
the days when both babies are crying at you and there is nothing you can do about it.<br />
the days when it seems like poop is coming out their ears and you all three need a good shower after its cleaned up.<br />
the days when you have cereal for dinner cause the meal you had planned just set the oven on fire.<br />
the days when you really do cry over spilled milk.<br />
the days when you need a nap by 9:30am.<br />
the days when two hands just aren't enough.<br />
the days when your 19 month old tries to feed your 4 week old her cheerios.<br />
the days when you finishing your morning coffee is your greatest accomplishment of the day.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">i hate those days. but i love my babies.</span></div>
<br />j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-54310724537474364612013-11-16T09:53:00.001+00:002013-11-16T09:53:53.398+00:00the past couple weeks...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(ps. ive had this post halfway written and saved as a draft for THREE WEEKS. its not even a "work in progress" type post. its mostly pictures! i guess there are too many poopy bums to clean and too much sleep to be had...well here it is, better late than never)</div>
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wow. these past few weeks have been quite the intense adjustment. i dont know how all you mom's of many out there do it. (i'm sure you don't quite know either, you just do everyday?) (please tell me thats true?)</div>
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i think my most favourite part of all this madness is seeing the interaction between Willow and Winnie. for now, its (obviously) one-sided, but what i see coming out in Willow just warms my heart. she is just the kindest, gentlest, sweet and loving big sister. she never had any sort of jealous or angry behaviour toward her sister. in fact, if she ever is especially cranky, all i have to do is bring her to Winnie, and she immediately melts and says "awww". so sweet!</div>
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as for Winnie, she LOVES her baths. she could stay in that water until it gets cold. ive never seen her more content and still! ok, thats not true, shes' pretty much always like that, she is a sleepy newborn after all...</div>
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everyday, when Winnie is down for her naps, i try to do something intentional with willow. just something specific for her to learn or enjoy. for example, baking! she's not quite coordinated enough yet to scoop and pour and stir, etc. and most everything ends up on the counter or floor if i don't directly help, but she enjoys it so much! and i get oatmeal raisin cookies (with a half cup more sugar than called for! toddler fingers!) or cinnamon rolls out of the deal. yummm. </div>
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and here are some random pictures for good measure.</div>
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winter is herrrrre! </div>
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but the sun still shines some days, and we have a lovely conservatory that gets quite cozy! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIOlUXORPhwt2MaI-xn8oso3-fPKBQ2nwxrwnPikbVe4PtjTJ3KbFwHkXOjE2tyPs6ejZk1oICOOgGNfZ17mb1yxKPr_XFSiYKO-lvkzFaGNLiOcXIdfN5PFGD9Ot-5PEIL_TtAv2jqY/s1600/IMG_0976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIOlUXORPhwt2MaI-xn8oso3-fPKBQ2nwxrwnPikbVe4PtjTJ3KbFwHkXOjE2tyPs6ejZk1oICOOgGNfZ17mb1yxKPr_XFSiYKO-lvkzFaGNLiOcXIdfN5PFGD9Ot-5PEIL_TtAv2jqY/s320/IMG_0976.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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in spite of the long newborn nights, the double blow-out poopy nappies, the double cries of insatiable hunger, the double whines for undivided attention, this mom of two thing is a pretty good gig. (which of course I'm saying now, because its 9:52 in the morning and no major outbreak has occurred. ask me again around 9pm tonight, that is, if i haven't fallen asleep yet...) </div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-20234631635992938992013-10-17T13:14:00.004+01:002013-10-17T13:32:06.762+01:00a birth story: winifred shade worrell<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">The story of Winnie’s birth began weeks before the 10th of October. Actually, I think its safe to say that it began the day I found out I was pregnant with her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The past 9 months has been something of a trial in my life, a long and hard lesson to be learned in trusting the Lord. It was like there was a mountain ahead of me, casting its shadow on everything, looming larger and more daunting as each day passed. I couldn't see anything beyond it and I didn’t know how I was going to climb it. And I certainly couldn't imagine what it was going to be like on top. That was my reality, this mountain. (I’m sure at this point you are thinking I’m being over-dramatic, to which I say, be quiet! I am not.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Because of this reality, I ran myself ragged the last few weeks (ok, let's say months) of the pregnancy, both physically and mentally. I had explored nearly every avenue of research regarding the things that happened with willows birth, in an effort to feel more educated and prepared for this birth (LESSON: ignorance is kinda bliss). I had organized and readied my home to the point of perfection at ANY given time, should I go into labour. I had prepared and blended all sorts of fancy essential oils to help in the specific ways I thought I needed during this labour and delivery. I had taken all sorts of supplements and drank so much funky tasting tea, to help this or that, or to prevent such and such a problem. I had the hospital bags packed for weeks. I had wrote out a very detailed and straightforward birth plan, to ensure everything would go my way. I had every single thing crossed off my to-do list. I was as prepared as I could ever be. Or, at least everything around me was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I had so much hope to go into labor early (considering the 8lb 12oz baby willow beast that came right on her due date, her size causing many of the complications I experienced) that every day after week 37 was long and anxious. I paid such close attention to every niggle and twitch that my body had, and thought so many times that “this could be it". I wrecked my head thinking that “today could be the day”, that by the end of it, when it wasn’t, I felt defeated. I grew tired of listening to my body. Trusting the signs I thought it was showing me was getting me nowhere. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well, I thought it was. But instead, with every disappointed hope, it was getting me closer to the end of myself, which is exactly where God wanted me to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">On one of those tired nights, shortly after I decided to let go of the days disappointment, and trust God all over again, I felt (what I thought was) my water break (ill spare you the details of how). And after much prompting from my husband, I rang the hospital to tell them what happened. They told me to come in so they could do a check and monitor me, considering I should go into labour within 24-48 hours. So we did. They did the test, and it was positive for amniotic fluid. So off to a bed int the ante-natal ward I went! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In the morning a doctor came by to talk about my options, pretty much the only one being inducing labour, THAT NIGHT, not even 24 hours after the waters went. Luckily, I had a very outspoken nurse, (who remembered me from a year and a half ago!) who fought for me to get an extra night out of the deal. Meanwhile, in my own stubborn fashion, I began to carry-out all my preparations to help start the labour I thought was stalling. Liters of raspberry tea! Clary sage on my ankles and abdomen! Pineapples! Countless trips up and down the stairwell! Hypnotherapy! Check, check, and check. Nothing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yKTrmdPuqvxc3sFt5pjlQ0pHJXbKamYRWxj-omxh5yiVXeg62roOh5O7jK0dUKlURh7VgwuwB8zbeehD5epbf1USavIMS8Lv6bzxoca2hktLL3pJYN_eWCYLtKw2w5RHqGMtqqSF88k/s1600/IMG_0712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yKTrmdPuqvxc3sFt5pjlQ0pHJXbKamYRWxj-omxh5yiVXeg62roOh5O7jK0dUKlURh7VgwuwB8zbeehD5epbf1USavIMS8Lv6bzxoca2hktLL3pJYN_eWCYLtKw2w5RHqGMtqqSF88k/s200/IMG_0712.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIR73GvDzE3A87xK19yv9PZLqdZX-JrRZdxXJXXp4oGSHV13fc_SFUa72082j5D9sOgHpHvgxRmjfYkj3hnonNlrUWcsSbI0uzCA8NuziA2NDeLOh5QHbu7v6LWd0DMBKuNJDvuBMyvKc/s1600/IMG_0715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIR73GvDzE3A87xK19yv9PZLqdZX-JrRZdxXJXXp4oGSHV13fc_SFUa72082j5D9sOgHpHvgxRmjfYkj3hnonNlrUWcsSbI0uzCA8NuziA2NDeLOh5QHbu7v6LWd0DMBKuNJDvuBMyvKc/s200/IMG_0715.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The next morning, when the doctor came for me to start the induction process, I was in the shower (I didn’t hide in there on purpose, I swear!), but he had to go work his clinic hours. So by the time I was packed and ready and moved to the delivery room, I got a different doctor and midwife, who didn’t need nearly as much convincing from us, to run some more tests before leaving induction as the last and final option. Long story (not so) short, they did the swab test again, NEGATIVE for amniotic fluid, they did a scan, plenty of fluid around the baby, and they did an exam, waters intact! So, they let me go home. (we don’t know exactly what did happen, but our best guess, considering the result of the first test, was that my “hind-waters” broke, and the bag resealed. I did not pee, I repeat, I did not pee the bed!) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">That one day and two nights in the hospital was the end of the battle for my trust. Every night, when my body let me down, I would put my trust back in God, but always the next morning I took it back. Not this time though. With induction looming the next morning, that one night I just had to let it all go. All for good this time. No take backs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I had to trust that God knew what was best. That He knew my body even better than I did. That He is the one who decides the how and when. That He knows how is best to climb the mountain, and that He is the one who will see me to the top.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And since leaving the hospital that day, it was like God gave my hopes for a better birth back to me. Like Abraham putting Isaac on the altar, God wanted me to let it go. To give it to Him, wholly and completely. And by His grace, I did. And little did I know, that also by His grace, I <i>would </i>get that better experience I had wanted from the beginning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Going home that Friday was really strange. Having expected to have our baby that day, only to go home to life as normal. It was weird. And I think its safe to say that those last few days were THE LONGEST of the entire pregnancy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Lets fast forward to Wednesday, the 9th of October. I woke up around 11:30pm to loads of cramps and such, but was so tired of listening to my body and thinking “maybe this is it” that I ignored what I was feeling and assumed I just had to poo. In fact, here are some screen shots of the texts between my sister and i (so un lady-like, I </span>apologise.<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKofkwSC_q5_CwpCHLyslKHx_3dd9cs25YWOKi9bvtXTV4AWcUt5Icl6KAT2SeC6tDet4Mx88SD0sd02dEDUYzE30G3nY6L2PR-_-4X5fTJoOEefyJ1aZQegH1LyXYI1PJhzyRwcSFuA/s1600/IMG_0806.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKofkwSC_q5_CwpCHLyslKHx_3dd9cs25YWOKi9bvtXTV4AWcUt5Icl6KAT2SeC6tDet4Mx88SD0sd02dEDUYzE30G3nY6L2PR-_-4X5fTJoOEefyJ1aZQegH1LyXYI1PJhzyRwcSFuA/s200/IMG_0806.PNG" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVXs7wRICrF0-94J_ZI_a8WbS-q7HqtsgqVo0bCDrP4aHId2bmUzrGZZgWDDGtO6ekAYaj9p1d1JYm3r9OwOkKFLGoepR0W74EymO93V5k4IeCGPoUoU-MksxAgL9v28o5SrvfYB9gUpw/s1600/IMG_0807.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVXs7wRICrF0-94J_ZI_a8WbS-q7HqtsgqVo0bCDrP4aHId2bmUzrGZZgWDDGtO6ekAYaj9p1d1JYm3r9OwOkKFLGoepR0W74EymO93V5k4IeCGPoUoU-MksxAgL9v28o5SrvfYB9gUpw/s200/IMG_0807.PNG" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXXWHCLIkTJU_VMPDc2aYhTUm5bhG0JzxJH5N2zu3xjfe5xZMv2rKUQtUEdS2DLFgJE3sngeNlLkXlDfs1nBpUbBOBmPIEknEzFmwdCO-Bkqnex-lkj0xjID7EnwLFVmvXE9xWgBy0Oc/s1600/IMG_0808.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXXWHCLIkTJU_VMPDc2aYhTUm5bhG0JzxJH5N2zu3xjfe5xZMv2rKUQtUEdS2DLFgJE3sngeNlLkXlDfs1nBpUbBOBmPIEknEzFmwdCO-Bkqnex-lkj0xjID7EnwLFVmvXE9xWgBy0Oc/s200/IMG_0808.PNG" width="133" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Not even 3 hours after that first text, I was holding our baby girl.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I woke clay up around midnight, told him that I thought was in labour (but still telling myself that I just had to poo. I even thought on the drive to the hospital, “Oh, they are just going to tell me to use the toilet and go home!”) and he got all the bags in the car while I showered and got dressed. I was timing the contractions at 3-4 minutes apart, so we rang the labour ward, and she said to make our way to the hospital when we can.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We got to the hospital around 1am, and they put us in the little admissions room, where you go to get hooked up to a monitor to time contractions and etc. The room itself is probably 15 x 15 ft, with a small bathroom attached. There is a tall wooden exam bed (like, you need a stool to climb on it) in the middle of the room. On one side there is the contraction and heart rate monitor, and on the other side there is barely enough room for the door to open without hitting the bed. There is a small counter with cupboards in the corner next to the bathroom door, and plastered all over the walls were posters of breastfeeding babies and vaccination information.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">They left me in there for some time, without one check or acknowledgement. Little did we know, the labour ward was full to the brim. Every single bed, in the labour rooms and in the delivery rooms, even the operating theatre, was occupied. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Meanwhile, I was feeling the need to push with every contraction, so clay left to find someone to help. A midwife came in, did a check and told me I was 7cm dilated, and progressing so quickly, that I would have to give birth in that room. So she hustled away to bring in any necessities. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Clay told me later that this was the moment that he had to let go, wholly and completely. He remembers willows birth all to vividly, and in that moment, seeing the surroundings of where this child would be born, it demanded all of his trust to be in God. Not in a doctor, not in an operating theatre close by, not in a bed with wheels, not in a room with all the proper necessities at hand. Just in God’s all knowing hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">By the time the midwife came back and set everything up, it was go time. A few minutes earlier, another midwife brought me a cylinder of gas and air (Entonox) and boy, I clamped down on that thing and didn’t let go! (my jaw hurt for the first few days after, I am ashamed to admit.) (But still kinda proud of myself for progressing that far without any pain relief!). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">After a few more contractions, I was ready to push. (My water hadn’t even broke yet, hows that for irony?) It only took a couple pushes, and at 2:33am, there she was. I heard clay say “its a girl!” and she was placed on my chest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Not a single stitch needed or a drop of lost blood in sight (!!!). Not a single one of my many preparations that I had exhaustedly studied to implement were used in that room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But here she was, God brought her here. And we were all together, healthy and happy, whole and complete.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">I had climbed the mountain. And guys, the view from up here is pretty great. </span></div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-5593154192831622772013-10-15T16:57:00.002+01:002013-10-15T16:57:34.402+01:00Winifred Shade Worrell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYVrbCCQQgHWbnOg3GG3aO-FzVb1cSnWInQYZdeZgUEKsFbgAY6ZsadInS_PASG2la37WEVh2cH7Cby-deKrc4Y7WzQQiNvKcutU4rYNDej5dnw_sBkmmQrFByMlUOtV44IwlpsKOqOA/s1600/IMG_0820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYVrbCCQQgHWbnOg3GG3aO-FzVb1cSnWInQYZdeZgUEKsFbgAY6ZsadInS_PASG2la37WEVh2cH7Cby-deKrc4Y7WzQQiNvKcutU4rYNDej5dnw_sBkmmQrFByMlUOtV44IwlpsKOqOA/s320/IMG_0820.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Winnie</div>
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born on October 10th, 2013 at 02:33am. weighing 8lb 6oz, measuring a whole 21 inches long. </div>
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and a forever holder of our hearts.</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-40240198608634498872013-09-26T18:49:00.001+01:002013-09-26T18:49:50.739+01:00belly, bump, maternity, family, etc. PHOTOS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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finallyyyyyy took some maternity slash family photos, after much kicking and screaming on my part. now, im not one for pictures on the best of days, so I'm especially disagreeable to ones of my enlarged and uncomfortable body these days. but after one million too many people encouraged me to give in, i did. plus, its not really about me, is it? this child deserves its womb life to be properly documented! and just in the nick of time! so here goes nothing!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4039faZCRUr4usFcKhrTILgHR9dUAdRKAVNEbM3zp-nJfTp3-RDMls_ULIA5McSCXzS80wnu0osTg_ohl3k_MplWFeaedfzQa1f0jo2gxXjJzPg8ytzf63EnVutxVZTkbEfcToxNt5E/s1600/DSC_0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4039faZCRUr4usFcKhrTILgHR9dUAdRKAVNEbM3zp-nJfTp3-RDMls_ULIA5McSCXzS80wnu0osTg_ohl3k_MplWFeaedfzQa1f0jo2gxXjJzPg8ytzf63EnVutxVZTkbEfcToxNt5E/s320/DSC_0035.jpg" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0L8cOBtwFfbZUw8u7rw2j77UTUOo11NlafIaqiK_Cd-IH7ko9YA5zI7c5r3dOEBa9WyLeHjJ-60YMJ8kSIEWJPzPWOG4DWVR7aaZC9r6hBjuml3OTUkkycV3yMlkc-MOO1oGLioqS0J0/s1600/DSC_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0L8cOBtwFfbZUw8u7rw2j77UTUOo11NlafIaqiK_Cd-IH7ko9YA5zI7c5r3dOEBa9WyLeHjJ-60YMJ8kSIEWJPzPWOG4DWVR7aaZC9r6hBjuml3OTUkkycV3yMlkc-MOO1oGLioqS0J0/s320/DSC_0005.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuwvTimPpp4QURboRAqYBY09E3xfD-2XBY0qQMVo6g3zC7jRm6MpT_rKh8raBDwQq0ADdI_CtMRus7UJK8jEXceeD3tYqy2_8wIaCPGHjt9GQJDDe4gyTmsXXl2N__VHrHsGCEM0jLMI/s1600/DSC_0038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuwvTimPpp4QURboRAqYBY09E3xfD-2XBY0qQMVo6g3zC7jRm6MpT_rKh8raBDwQq0ADdI_CtMRus7UJK8jEXceeD3tYqy2_8wIaCPGHjt9GQJDDe4gyTmsXXl2N__VHrHsGCEM0jLMI/s320/DSC_0038.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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ill ask you to forgive my cranky looking baby girl. i have no idea why she didn't feel like cooperating with the camera on this day! she usually charms the lenses off those things. maybe because it wasn't an iPhone camera? oh booooo. </div>
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(and a many thanks to justine, our kind photographer for taking these on such short notice!)</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-7315723025830436512013-09-20T13:55:00.004+01:002013-09-20T13:55:47.814+01:00baby worrell #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(at 34 weeks. and the ONLY self portrait of being pregnant that i have. am i a terrible person?)</span></div>
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this baby is coming, and coming soon.<br />
<br />
im 38 weeks now and so very close to meeting this surprise child. of course, im feeling as large and uncomfortable as any pregnant lady does at this stage. but even more uncomfortable, is where my brain is at with the thought of giving birth again. and obviously the thought has been a constant fear/worry/dread (anybody got a thesaurus?!) since the day i found out i was pregnant. but also, since ive been pregnant I've learned more details about what happened during willows birth (updated <a href="http://www.whatintheworrell.com/2012/04/birth-story.html" target="_blank">her birth story</a>, btw) after getting to sit down with my doctor (well she's not my doctor technically... but its kind of a long story) and having her read over my notes recorded after willows birth, and explaining all that they meant. plus, all of this was being told to me without having just had a baby and coming off general anaesthetic!<br />
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and so, since understanding more of the details, i have spent <i>countless hours </i>googling and researching. from midwife forums to medical journals, mother/baby websites to personal blogs, aromatherapy techniques to yoga poses, ANYTHING to better mentally and physically prepare me for this time around (enter why i said "overwhelming" here).<br />
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the only thing is though, all of this has only gotten me more confused and scared and worried. because really, at the end of the day, no matter how prepared, or educated or how many freaking fancy essential oils i have, its ALL out of my hands. and i can waste my time now with worry and more research and more preparing, or i can keep myself busy and call it "nesting" but its really just unnecessary house work to keep my mind off it, or i can keep saying "tomorrow ill do this" or "tomorrow ill think about this"or "tomorrow will be better" or "tomorrow ill be more prepared" or blah blah blah. i can do all of these things but all im really doing is wasting these last precious days i have with just willow and i. its not fair to her. and most importantly, its not fair to God.<br />
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God is the one who has the ultimate control over the outcome of this. and thats been a hard lesson to learn, especially these past few weeks. i just need to <b>give it up</b>. i can use fear and my need to control to keep my trust farther from the One who can calm my fear, farther from the One who has the true control.<br />
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and at the end of the day, He knows best. even if it all happens exactly the same, or something worse happens, or its a dream labour and delivery (gasp! could you imagine? its so possible!). He got me through it once, He'd do it again. PLUS, how could i be so selfish to forget that He gave me a perfect, healthy, beautiful human being out of the deal with ms. willow worrell. and as hard as it is to say, i <b>would</b> do it again if it meant getting another. i would. i would. i would.<br />
<br />j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-46429486301451195322013-08-30T18:19:00.003+01:002013-08-30T18:28:23.084+01:00willow ever worrell: month 16let me tell you a little something about willow being 16 months old...i think its my favourite month yet. she has changed both physically and developmentally SO much in just this short time.<br />
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first off, she started walking. can i get a HALLELUJAH, AMEN???? holy moly, she was getting heavy for a while there, and i was quickly running out of hips to carry her on. not to mention the great laundry debacle of dirty stained knees! also, i think she knew how to walk all along, and that the more we encouraged her to walk, and tried to help her practise, the farther we pushed her from actually doing it herself. because as soon as she took more than one step, she walked across the whole kitchen (i have video to prove it! complete with a blubbering mother in the background!) and to further my point, even though that day she took her first steps, it wasn't for a whole week that she even took another step (and again, when she did, she walked around the entire house). then, in the weeks after that after that, she would choose which days were "walking days", until one day she decided to make two days in a row "walking days" and from then on, it has been her primary mode of transport! thank heavens.<br />
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second, she is becoming more "her". i mean, she has always had this special personality, of course, anyone could see it from day one. but its different now too, like everyday there is something new and wonderful that develops. and i think that is why its my favourite month so far, because i am seeing more of who SHE is. she's not just a baby with needs to be met, but a little human with a voice and a will. and actually, can we talk about her will for a second? i think she knows that its the first four letters of her name, because holy moly, it is a STRONG one. BUT (disclaimer) clay and i are both strong-willed (myself <i>maybe</i> more-so. plus, i am incredibly stubborn.) so we cant blame willow for that. we know exactly where it comes from. i just hope it works out to her advantage someday, that it will create in her an independence and uniqueness, the ability to make her own decisions and to not be influenced by others. (i guess that part is up to us for now. gulp!)<br />
but as for the voice part, oh, its just wonderful! a voice that knows "mom" and "da", a voice that knows "bug" and "ball" and "bee" (which all pretty much just sound like "BA" but with different intensities), a voice that knows "vrooooom" (a truck or car driving by), a voice that knows almost every animal sound (from the chicken, being a very realistic "bahhhh bahhhh" to the ever ferocious lion, "rawwrrr"), a voice that can tell us when she needs her nappy changed, and a voice, the scariest of all, that knows the word "no" (complete with a shake of her head too).<br />
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there are so many more things that i see, like i said, on a near daily basis, that i cant even keep up with her. but i am loving every second of it. and the more i see, the more my love for her grows. she is such a <b>good</b> girl. through and through. i can only pray that we do right by her, that she continues in her growing in goodness, and that God is gracious to the three (soon to be four) of us.j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-28511280784562970102013-07-24T11:27:00.001+01:002013-07-24T13:43:08.662+01:00did you hear the crickets?every time you clicked on this forgotten blog of mine? i did, every time i thought about writing some kind of update on our life as of late. i still hear those crickets, but im going to try my best to fill you in anyway.<br />
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<b>1.</b> we are no longer in california. (duh!). but we had a great time, and the second half of the trip was just as great as the first. it was harder to leave this time though, for some reason. i dont really know why. maybe because willow (and this new baby) are now in on the whole equation. seeing our family say goodbye to her, and her being at the age where she understands who her family is, and even on a small scale, what "goodbye" means, its harder. all of us feeling like the time was (as it always is) too short, and how much willow will have grown and how much we will have changed by the next time we see them. (but dont get me wrong. i mean, thank heavens for Skype! and jet planes!)<br />
and then there is this whole other side. after being away for awhile, we are ready to get back to our home in ireland. back to our routines and closets. and of course, we miss the people here too! and the people here miss us! (well, hopefully. right? ...please?)<br />
its all just so weird. like being split in two! anyway, i digress. we are home now, which brings me to number two.<br />
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<b>2.</b> we arrived back in ireland on a thursday morning. wait, lets go back a little ways...<br />
we had kinda been house hunting for the past few months, looking at the listings for fun and also because our lease was up since last september and we are weird and like to move house wayyy to often. oh! and also because we have another baby on the way, we thought we could use a bit more space. i mean, we could've been just fine where we were too, but we were looking to see if any options were out there, just in case. and what do you know? there was a great option, staring at us straight in the face. so we rang the number and set up a viewing. then met the landlord, who was staying at the house that night (and was also pissed drunk), then shook hands on it. it was ours! and he would save it for the next four weeks that we were in california.<br />
so back to that thursday morning....we got here. and on friday morning started the move. WORST.IDEA.WE.HAVE.EVER.HAD. im not going to go into details, but just learn from our mistakes. dont do it.<br />
but we are in the house now, and the dust is settling. its a great place, only two miles from our last home, so we are a bit deeper into the country. tractors driving by every couple hours, a field of cows on either side, and a beautiful sea/river view. pictures will be seen in the future, im sure of it.<br />
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<b>3.</b> we have hit the ground running, church-wise. its summer time, so its busy time! we had a team from charleston, south carolina (who were down-right awesome) around for a couple weeks. they did everything from painting the church offices, to helping run a week long kids camp. over 80 kids heard the gospel and were taught and listened to everyday. amazing!<br />
and also there is just the general catching up of things and catching up with people. God is doing a cool thing in this city, and we get to meet/know some incredible people because of it. needless to say, we are blessed to be a part of His church here, even when its busy and crazy and we cant seem to keep up. God is doing something, that we know. so praise Him!<br />
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<b>4.</b> willow is walking! can you say finallyyyyyyyyyyy. yes, this deserves a whole numbered point! in fact, i think it deserves a whole new post. ive only waited 16 months for this day! so stay tuned.<br />
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<b>5.</b> im nearly 30 weeks along now, and feeling all sorts of things. from the physical (seriously, this baby <b>will not stop moving</b>) to the emotional (are you surprised? haha). but ill save all those updates for another post too.<br />
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now, did i miss anything?j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-66642727877234027312013-06-03T20:33:00.001+01:002013-06-03T20:33:29.154+01:00california IG (his, hers, and theirs)<br />
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/// enjoying the sun, summer fruits, sprinklers, lollipops and etc in her near nudes. all day, everyday.</div>
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/// some instagrams from my sister. loving all this time, her kids with mine.</div>
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/// this whole week clay was in San Francisco and Utah, so we missed him dreadfully, but after a short wait in the airport (traditional sunflower in hand!), he's back! (and back off again, to a conference for the week. BUT, its a short drive.) woop!</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-52465201151575595372013-05-23T14:20:00.003+01:002013-05-23T14:24:34.752+01:00we made it!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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we are in california! and it may be the jet lag/dehydration/extreme diet change/sunshine but these first few days are oh so magical! its like you don't mind a smidge when your baby wakes up at 2:30am, ready to greet the day, cause you've been lying there waiting for her first little peep so you could get up too! and thennnn there is this endless world of possibilities that you make sure to make a list of, and then wait with anticipation to do them. straight up disneyland magic, im telling you.</div>
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///our flight was pretty uneventful. it could've been a whole lot worse, i could say. willow was a star, as usual. but still, 11 hours on a plane with a 14 month old is rough. she pretty much crawled all over that thing (gross, but i got over it pretty quickly, amidst all the "you are a terrible mother!" stares. whatever. she was happy).</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">///our first stop straight off the plane, as traditions states, was the bear pit. for some good-for-the-soul-not-so-good-for-the-thighs, beef sandwiches on garlic toast with a side of baked beans and coleslaw. (oh, and dont forget the pork ribs and french fries and deadly amounts of barbeque sauce + iced tea. oh geeze.)</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">///not five minutes after we arrived at grandma Sallys, did willow discover the pool and attempt to dive right in. (not joking, this girl is fearless). while clay left to help his dad with his boat, we both got our swimsuits on and enjoyed some water and sunshine. what cold water and warm sun does to your swollen post-flight body! the perfect remedy. </span></div>
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all this to say, i have been up for 4 hours, and its only 6:15. so excuse me if my brain sounds weird. </div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-40935714403493463212013-05-11T08:42:00.001+01:002013-05-11T09:52:52.677+01:00...but here are a thousand words anyway.<br>
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oh my, how do i begin? well, im just going to be honest. im terrified.<br>
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the very day i didn't start my period, i knew. my cycle is more dependable than the arms on a clock. but i waited a whole week hoping that i had just miscalculated and was going to start the next week.<br>
i didn't. of course i didn't.<br>
even on monday morning, when i had decided i was going to take a test, i didn't want to. for some reason, not knowing for certainly certain, was better than those two lines telling me the whole undeniable truth.<br>
i felt irresponsible, i felt unprepared, i felt inadequate, i felt afraid of my own body, i felt resentment against my husband, i felt anger, i felt a whole lot of things that are better left unpublished. i felt terrified of the future. the only thing that was a comfort was the 9 month old girl i was holding in my arms, knowing that she was the end result. now all i would have to do is get through this next year and it would be ok.<br>
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(now, before you start thinking im a terrible person, and how could i be so selfish and stupid, and do you know how many women out there wish they were in your position and would be crying tears of joy instead of tears of fear and desperation, and how could you, etc etc?? well, you could go right ahead, im thinking the same things of myself too. and thats ok, im allowed to feel this way. and dont you tell me i can't!)<br>
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i had all but sworn that i would never have any more children. i just couldn't imagine it. i mean, i knew we would <i>eventually</i>, but would i really have gone through with it if that was the plan? the plan was to have two children (one for each hand, etc. you know) and to have them fairly close together, just get it all done with and then they would be best of friends and la di da.<br>
then, i had willow.<br>
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my pregnancy with willow was fairly easy, with the exception of minor identity crisis issues, acid reflux so bad it nearly ate a hole in my stomach, a bruised rib and the other usual pregnancy suspects.<br>
her birth, on the other hand, was not so easy. it was nothing like i had planned or hoped. it was a nightmare, and i don't even remember the most of it or the few days after. only pictures remind me of the first time i held her, or the first time she nursed. it was the worst (and best) day of my life. and i would <u>really</u> like not to have to go through that again.<br>
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for some reason, i was always under the impression that being pregnant and giving birth was the most primal and natural and instinctual and feminine thing a woman could ever do. and maybe i read/watched one to many hippie mother manuals but ARE YOU SERIOUS? i never felt more unnatural, abnormal, out of my own head, crazy lady, THIS CANNOT BE REAL LIFE, than when i was pregnant and in labour.<br>
or maybe i just didn't get that "mom" gene that most women get. sure, i could do it, i <i>am</i> currently doing it. but sometimes when i remember that i am a mother, it feels like someone punched me in the gut and gave me a hug at the same time. (willow actually <i>does</i> do that in real life on occasion, but you know what i mean.) because its frightening! a whole life in your hands? willow is a lot more than just a cute baby. she is a life, a soul, a person, that <b>I</b> am responsible for. and i feel really <u>not</u> good at it some days. those days when i look at the clock, its only 3pm, and i wonder how in the world im going to get through the next hours until her bath and bedtime. it usually consists of a few minutes in the fetal position, lots of tears, my darling daughter mauling me like a bear, and then comes the teensy bit of strength that could only come from above, getting us through the next few hours.<br>
anyway, i digress. but you get what im saying right? this mom business is no piece of cake! (but a piece of cake does help, i tell you)<br>
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in conclusion: i know i have some mad hormones going on right now, and have had some pretty epic lows these past few months. and im not saying that these next 20 weeks are going to be the best either, but i DO know, that once all of this is done and dusted, and i am holding that tiny new life in my arms, all these feelings and fears are going to go right away. (and then they'll come back a day or two later, then hang out for the first few weeks when i bawl my eyes out every night at 9pm and wonder what the heck i am doing. and then come back periodically throughout the rest of my mom years, but still. you get me.) im just glad im not alone in this whole new mom thing. i have one, and soon to be two, little babes who are also new at this mom thing too. and we'll get it eventually. or maybe we won't. either way, we are learning.j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-38988793732123218112013-05-07T19:36:00.000+01:002013-05-07T19:36:48.075+01:00a picture is worth a thousand words...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-3805875701249957362013-04-24T11:11:00.001+01:002013-04-24T11:11:13.113+01:00spring, is that you?yesterday was the very first day of spring (did you hear me, winter?! i said it! dont you dare tell me otherwise.). we enjoyed a nice walk around town in the morning time, i got an iced coffee and proceeded to walk swiftly about as willow wanted her morning nap. i went to the library to sip that coffee (maybe read a chapter of something?) while she slept, but when i got there she wasn't asleep yet! but it was a great and happy coincidence anyway, because unbeknownst to me, there at the library, every tuesday morning from 10:30-12 there is a parent and toddler play group! and surely there was no sleeping to be done then, as she jumped right into the vat of toys and tried to steal all the little snacks. pure happiness on that girls face. we left after a while, as our parking was about to expire.<br />
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we stopped at the store on the way home, had a nap and some lunch (her first pb and j!), then hit the grass outside. but when i say "hit the grass" i mean, stay on the quilt which lay on the grass because for some reason, willow is terrified of it. i mean, she will hardly touch it. it took a lot of coaxing and showing just to get her to touch (and mayyybe pull) the grass. i couldve taken a whole nap, knowing for darn sure she wasn't going to go anywhere (ps, i restrained myself). and ohhhhhh my goodness, it was nice. and no wind! which meant lovely lovely rays of warmth hitting our skin uninterrupted! BUT the inevitable happened, and some clouds rolled in after a while, plus the wind started to pick up, so we headed back inside.<br />
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pb & j success! no hives to be seen!</div>
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see what i told you about wanting to take a nap? but there was no possibility. </div>
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hands up from the evil evil grass!</div>
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also, clay came home a bit early to take advantage of the lovely weather and do some fishing. we joined for about two seconds on the beach, but willow felt the same about sand as she did about the grass, maybe even <i>slightly</i> more passionate.</div>
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she cried the whole time. mostly because the evil evil sand stood between her and her dad, and some because she did not appreciate his coming home early to fish and not spend time focusing solely on her. this was a hard lesson to learn for such a small child.</div>
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but before you get too excited about the gorgeous weather we had yesterday, know thats its raining now, and the forecast says it will continue to for the next three days. <b>but</b> i will take one day like yesterday and three days rain, its better than none!</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-49813147051322373112013-04-20T10:55:00.001+01:002013-04-20T11:23:02.663+01:00willows first birthday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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my goodness, willows first birthday has come and gone! it was a great day, and to be honest <i>im kinda glad its over</i>. shhhh, dont tell anyone! </div>
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anyways, the morning started off with getting the room all decorated and set up, we had it in a classroom thats a part of the church offices. we invited everyone from the church, so we were expecting a crowd. and boy, we weren't disappointed! there were a few hiccups though, willow had missed her afternoon nap, and my chocolate chip cookies were about the only thing that got her through, i hadn't washed my hair in weeks (and for some reason wore it down?? come on lady!), clay was wrecked from helping set up and studying for easter service the next day. BUT all in all it was a lovely day, with loads of kids and snacks and crafts and fun to be had. </div>
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the theme was hot air balloons, since willow has this love relationship with balloons, and needs to have them in her hands if they are anywhere in her presence. (even if that means dangerously balancing in clays hands to grab the one stuck in the ceiling, or walking into mcdonalds and grabbing one without buying any sort of happy meal). </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">so we set up this hot air balloon photo booth, for kids to jump in the basket and have their picture taken, and boy did they come out cute! thanks for the idea pinterest, but i think we one upped you in the awesome department...sorries!</span></div>
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and here are some more photos of willow and the rest of the days events...</div>
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(she WOULD NOT eat her smash cake. not even after tempting her with the cream cheese frosting. maybe it was all those chocolate chip cookies?)</div>
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(well, it was all lovely and great, but im glad her next birthday is a year away....!)</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-16559280736289783802013-03-28T21:24:00.003+00:002013-03-28T21:24:48.685+00:00willow is onehappy birthday, my dear sweet child. i cant believe i didn't know you a year ago, and now its like i've never <i>not</i> known you.<br />
you are the most curious little child. you are restless for entertainment. you have such an intensity that i see in every move of your tiny body. you want to touch and taste everything you see. you wear your heart on your sleeve. you are completely fearless. you drive me crazy but you are my sanity. you are so forgiving and kind (for those times when i am a bit crazy). your smile lights up a room. you have the largest bank of silly expressions that you pull from constantly (and they twist my heart further 'round your tiny finger). you don't tolerate any nonsense. you are so very serious sometimes (i guess you get that from your father). you love going to the swings, even if it means freezing your tush off for as long as you can stand. you love apples and oranges, even to your own (and my nose's) discomfort. you squeal and squawk when you see that i forgot to put away penelope's water dish in the morning (then quickly put your hand in it and splash the water out). you can crawl like a little flash of lightning nowadays, and because of that, you have no desire to walk anymore. you (almost) always wake up happy, chatting away to yourself till i come get you. you carry on all sorts of conversation when you're in the mood, and i have no idea what you're saying (but its so dang cute).<br />
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you are the best girl i have ever known. i am so glad to see you grow everyday, and i cant wait to see the lady you will become. i know i have only seen one of your many years on this earth so far, and you're going to have to work really hard to top it, but my goodness girl, you really are the best.<br />
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ps.<br />
i love you.j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-72838484326609404942013-03-17T08:07:00.001+00:002013-03-17T08:21:48.986+00:00st. patrick's day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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clay and I moved to Ireland on this day five years ago. it happened by accident, and I didn't even realize it (post wedding brain) until we got on the plane in New York, and it was full of people wearing green (tall hats, clover shirts, beer glasses, the whole lot) yelling in excitement about their one day in Dublin to party and celebrate St Patricks day. and every year I think about the people on that flight, I see pictures of people's celebrations on Facebook, I see what goes on in my own city, and I read about the aftermath on the news. <br />
and I always get thinking about this day. and how one whole day a year, millions of people gather to celebrate (ok, or they just wear green, get drunk, watch parades, and get in fights) this tiny little island and it' s place in the world. <br />
but sadly, this day has nothing to do with it's namesake. and I think dear old St. Patrick would turn in his grave if he knew half the shenanigans that went on around the world on his day. <br />
instead though, can you imagine what would happen if everyone put down their drink and prayed for this place? Ireland doesnt need another excuse to party, it needs another revolution like the one in St Patricks time. and it needs it badly. <br />
BUT God is doing something too. and He desires a revival just as much as we do (even more!). and if I may say so, I think He is in the beginning works of one. so while we have yet to see fully the plans God has for this place, rest assured, He does have some great ones.<br />
so while your eyes are on Ireland today, would you put your celebrations on hold, for just a moment, and pray for this place and it's people? and maybe celebrate this day for what it was meant for. that God used a man, small and insignificant as he was, to do His great and meaningful work in this country, and changed people's lives for an eternity.j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-20934191387809369102013-03-06T15:43:00.002+00:002013-03-06T15:43:44.412+00:00winter, please be over soon?<br />
this winter has felt like the longest, darkest, coldest, meanest one yet! I don't really know why it seems any worse than the rest, but it sure is a fighter. and maybe it's because last year we had a baby to look forward to at the end of it? or maybe because IT ACTUALLY IS, but I'm reallllly ready for it to be over. poor willow just wants to go on the swings for longer than 5 minutes without freezing her tush off and I would my toes to stay intact when we spend any amount of time outside! <br />
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but I guess it's only the beginning of march. maybe I'm asking too much of Ireland? or maybe I've seen too much sunshine on the other end of Skype calls with people in California that it's making me antsy. either way, could we get this over with? I'm ready for a summer of light layering with cardigans and skirts and medium denier tights (cause this is still Ireland guys, lest you forget). and ill leave you with a weather forecast for this coming week.<br />
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not so much COLD as it is wet, wet, wet.</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-23347540951355899592013-02-28T16:29:00.001+00:002013-02-28T16:37:31.513+00:005 years5 years ago today (or tomorrow, whichever you fancy. we were wed on the leap day) I married the love of my life. I think back about these years, and all the memories they are filled with, both the good and the bad, and it's weird how five years can seem so short and pass so quickly, yet be so full and endless, all at the same time. <br />
our life together has been one crazy adventure (think white water rafting :) ), and God has done more than we ever thought possible. and now we have this little girl, who took our marriage and filled up all the empty little places, places that we didn't even realize were there in the first place. and because of her we are stronger and happier and better and so very fulfilled.<br />
so here is to five happy years, with a wonderful man. may there be (oh, there will be!) many many more! <br />
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j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-69228872483632021792013-02-22T14:03:00.000+00:002013-02-22T14:03:23.046+00:00this week.its about time i wrote another post to put that last post in the past. all of the things mentioned are still very much in our present, but hey, that doesn't mean you should be re-reading it, does it? goodness, no! nor should i! lets move on, shall we?<br />
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this week has been one of no extraordinary kind. its been terribly windy and freezing weather, so we haven't even made it out to the swings but one day! we did make it in for a shop though, when we dropped clay off in town, that was thoroughly exciting. i speak the truth! there could be disastrous consequences if you pick out the wrong bag of clementines! i mean, ask willow how long we stood there investigating. not only are we paying €3.15 for said bag, have you ever eaten a clementine that wasn't perfectly tangy and sweet? we are eating one of those as we speak, and its so disappointing! and willow, she is like the clementine queen around here, she wants them non stop. every time we pass the fruit basket she points and jumps and makes her little lip-smacking noise (which she does every time she's hungry or she sees something she wants, its the cutest). in fact, she had eaten so many once it made her sick (disclaimer: i have cut back on her allowance since that incident).<br />
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so on a week like this, when we are stuck inside and clay is very busy so we cant tag along in his adventures, what do we do? we play with a lot of blocks (she cannot stand to see one block on top of another, so its mostly me playing, and her destroying), we watch some baby einstein (the only one she likes is the neighbourhood animal one. sign language or baby poetry? she scoffs!), we chase the cat around the house (penelope hates it, but hey, she sleeps 20 hours a day, what does she know?), we try to fit the square into the circle on the shape sorter (to no avail. we'll let you know if we're ever successful), we (ok SHE) likes to make laps around the coffee table showing off her growing walking skills (and she is crawling properly now too, like not on her belly but on her knees!), she likes to find the things she's not allowed to have and see how times ill say no (and then laugh because apparently its a funny word), she's getting way too good at climbing the stairs (not so good at not falling down them, but since we got a gate, she now spends her time trying to open it), she'll bang on pots and throw around spatulas and measuring spoons at my feet while i make dinner (and i try not to trip), she'll soon get bored of those kitchen utensils and head straight for the recycling bin (not as dirty as it sounds, wash and squash people!), she still takes two naps a day and feels great afterward (mostly because she almost always wakes up with a poo in her pants, but also TWO NAPS!), and of course there are various other activities to keep ourselves busy, but PLEASE can we get some sunshine and warmth around here soon anyway? thank you.<br />
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<br />j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-74440597050200239672013-02-08T09:34:00.000+00:002013-02-09T18:18:01.163+00:00phew...wow, well.... where do I begin?<br />
have you ever had that feeling, when you're running super fast, and you can feel your top half moving just slightly faster than your feet can catch up? and you think you're headed straight for a tumble of great proportions, but somehow your feet slow down or your body stops leaning forward, and you get ahold of yourself again?<br />
well, these past few weeks have kinda been like that in our lives. except that this was one of those times that you don't catch up, and you fall head first, into a great and powerful flurry of body and legs intertwined. <br />
I mean, it's not all that bad, depending on how you look at it, but its an intense mix of things both personal, church-related and otherwise, that have knocked us down good. they are things that you may already know, things that you can't know, things that i cant know (but i see them in my husbands eyes when he comes home), things you will eventually know, and things that I can't share here, except with vague references.<br />
but I do know that it won't last forever, I know it won't always be our reality, and I know that God has some great and awesome plan that I can't even imagine. and that's what's getting us through it.<br />
and we will get through it. we always do. time passes, things change, we grow. in fact, we really shouldn't be surprised when things are rough, "as though something strange were happening to you" (1peter4:12). I mean, didn't Jesus say these things would happen? and didn't he also say that He would be our strength? and that we would come out the other side, perfect and complete, lacking nothing? so really, if you could see past your own circumstances and see the future God has planned OR look to your neighbor who has it worse off than you, then heck, it's not really that bad after all.<br />
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also, I'm sorry if this post is a bit sad in comparison to my usual happy-go-lucky-cute-pictures-of-my-baby-only-share-stories-from-the-happiest-of-days posts, but guys, it's my reality right now. and I understand if your feeling down after reading it, so here's a cute picture of willow to lift your spirits, she always does mine. <br />
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<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZAnnDrKZwSGL8LcUIQYNIeJDD5a0yTJcx2UTYsEr1NtamWgIb542D9SE3YfgPtlNNlDZnGUCWNTmJK_Edg5Llgsy9KewbN8nScrkkEiEuHeRvotdB1dejraEP_DziCxda9HnRrcN-eP2/s640/blogger-image--1758501433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZAnnDrKZwSGL8LcUIQYNIeJDD5a0yTJcx2UTYsEr1NtamWgIb542D9SE3YfgPtlNNlDZnGUCWNTmJK_Edg5Llgsy9KewbN8nScrkkEiEuHeRvotdB1dejraEP_DziCxda9HnRrcN-eP2/s640/blogger-image--1758501433.jpg" /></a></div>j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-29235951228910502262013-01-31T09:42:00.002+00:002013-01-31T09:42:35.458+00:00bfg mug<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
as many of you know, because im sure i have mentioned it before...(in <a href="http://whatintheworrell.blogspot.ie/2012/08/willows-nursery.html" target="_blank">this post</a>), one of my very favourite authors is Roald Dahl, and one of my very favourite books by him, is the BFG. i remember reading this book in the third grade, and i still have the very copy of the one given to me then. i mean, who doesn't like a story about a tiny girl who rides in the ears of a nice giant, while mean ugly giants eat her friends, and have names like bonecruncher and bloodbottler? all the while eating and drinking things like snozzcumbers and frobscottle? come on, this stuff is golden!</div>
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anyway, a couple months ago i found <a href="http://www.msmugs.com/" target="_blank">this website</a>, so i bookmarked the page and swore to buy one someday (but then promptly forgot!). then one day as i was organising my bookmarks (everyone does that, right? <i>right?)</i>, i found the link again and ordered it straight away. i could hardly contain myself when the postman came to the door.</div>
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"i is the only nice and jumbly giant in giant country. i is the BIG FRIENDLY GIANT."</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-35462209979437522532013-01-29T10:37:00.002+00:002013-01-29T10:37:40.966+00:00the week in which clay was awaylast monday clay flew off to germany for a pastors conference, and it was the longest amount of time that willow spent away from her dad (<i>dad</i>? whoa!). <div>
we actually had a really nice week too! we mostly stayed inside as the weather was atrocious (are you surprised?). but we did make it out to vacuum out the car, pick up some milk, have a lunch date, have a breakfast date, etc.</div>
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on wednesday we had two of our favourite-est friends over for a little sleepover/all night chat session. i felt like a child again! maybe it was all that homemade chocolate ice cream? i swear i didn't put anything in it!</div>
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he finally came home on saturday, and in preparation for his arrival, we made a welcome home sign, hung some bunting, and baked his favourite chocolate chip cookies. </div>
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i had wanted to introduce paint into willows life for awhile now, and this was a perfect excuse! although all she wanted to do was eat the paper/chew on the paint bottles, i thought she looked darn cute covered in paint. here are some pictures of her experience. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrnfjch60OqPSBgGv-hGeC-_pLLZ48sTgF3r3gkn1PAFF3FKrxUXgOGU53KkqO1LcHmb1KwIVaTvzlzXTr7MjwP5a-X19omhmpU9xcpaumIA9ux17THS_OFlvfwewUgJZmNHt2KBSNDlW/s1600/IMG_2021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrnfjch60OqPSBgGv-hGeC-_pLLZ48sTgF3r3gkn1PAFF3FKrxUXgOGU53KkqO1LcHmb1KwIVaTvzlzXTr7MjwP5a-X19omhmpU9xcpaumIA9ux17THS_OFlvfwewUgJZmNHt2KBSNDlW/s320/IMG_2021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(see? CHEW CHEW)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrnfjch60OqPSBgGv-hGeC-_pLLZ48sTgF3r3gkn1PAFF3FKrxUXgOGU53KkqO1LcHmb1KwIVaTvzlzXTr7MjwP5a-X19omhmpU9xcpaumIA9ux17THS_OFlvfwewUgJZmNHt2KBSNDlW/s1600/IMG_2021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrnfjch60OqPSBgGv-hGeC-_pLLZ48sTgF3r3gkn1PAFF3FKrxUXgOGU53KkqO1LcHmb1KwIVaTvzlzXTr7MjwP5a-X19omhmpU9xcpaumIA9ux17THS_OFlvfwewUgJZmNHt2KBSNDlW/s320/IMG_2021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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its nice having clay back home, and things back to normal. willow certainly missed him. i could tell. she would get all quiet when i would talk about him, or when he would talk to her over FaceTime, she'd get really happy, then really sad all quick. sweet girl. </div>
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i, however, didn't miss tripping over his giant sized boots...but i did miss his giant sized face! (love you babe.)</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4269840377543180547.post-59075485260422466762013-01-29T09:10:00.002+00:002013-01-29T10:38:22.598+00:00almond butteri made some almond butter a few days ago, and let me tell you, its heaven! and easy as pie!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmT3vpJKtEm1-JUL4kcxTLMxyQ156GlOS56FIYGHeR-ylBVtZRjMTWlMka1rS7R3VMLqpW5qF7As1awq4Qw7FRrTgGcvYqlMTIaKWbN7tEmXin9IhWq9uqkTJZHVM8hIsGsYtNr7fSpY8j/s1600/IMG_0188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmT3vpJKtEm1-JUL4kcxTLMxyQ156GlOS56FIYGHeR-ylBVtZRjMTWlMka1rS7R3VMLqpW5qF7As1awq4Qw7FRrTgGcvYqlMTIaKWbN7tEmXin9IhWq9uqkTJZHVM8hIsGsYtNr7fSpY8j/s320/IMG_0188.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNl91uCBNnUuQ6HRjIX9lwqj8zQLTC7Qgl3vHjOCvzS4nPqgSvDdp9uXt6PjYWwuk9CIPO8mgg4FQcXykD9CL0zSL8uJVCO2fwNLsRQ5FFIZGfpoCQ3CWP0hMmUEtsD5OpCGLF9RZCY6W/s1600/IMG_0189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNl91uCBNnUuQ6HRjIX9lwqj8zQLTC7Qgl3vHjOCvzS4nPqgSvDdp9uXt6PjYWwuk9CIPO8mgg4FQcXykD9CL0zSL8uJVCO2fwNLsRQ5FFIZGfpoCQ3CWP0hMmUEtsD5OpCGLF9RZCY6W/s320/IMG_0189.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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first, lay 3 cups of raw almonds flat on a baking tray, and roast at 175 celsius (350 f).</div>
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then, wait 10-12 minutes as a glorious smell fills your kitchen! let them cool and try reallllly hard not to munch on a handful while you wait (i may or may not have been so patient)...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8drJS1X3_hk6J3UDklBbsU02n7j2VGlPdPAttdxUf6jpA4t2y7XO_dydjPV_IlBGELGdAhjDxDKERoVsNrVq56V_271UxkuXptInbAiCQaI4D-ON22RvSF1SOkshGlOnRCPsfFYzH4Fay/s1600/IMG_0191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8drJS1X3_hk6J3UDklBbsU02n7j2VGlPdPAttdxUf6jpA4t2y7XO_dydjPV_IlBGELGdAhjDxDKERoVsNrVq56V_271UxkuXptInbAiCQaI4D-ON22RvSF1SOkshGlOnRCPsfFYzH4Fay/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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then, pop them into a food processor or vitamix (my dream machine!) with some oil if you'd like, a couple tablespoons or so. i used rapeseed, but next time i won't...i think it would be just fine without it...let iblend up nice and smooth, or you can stop it sooner if you like a more chunky spread (did i just say <i>chunky</i>? shudder).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KTCRHlblo-m-f8inWX0dnA7LZvxX8siPnxiWHu5qTxhzdNkR03gGxspsQv7UElVCpTICRDHTmBqn8mGYOtgJdloBXHdK3GEQT0hRGOb0ZELK7f6Wvve1rxTLWacTo-ZnaUQQdhwHTiz-/s1600/IMG_0192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KTCRHlblo-m-f8inWX0dnA7LZvxX8siPnxiWHu5qTxhzdNkR03gGxspsQv7UElVCpTICRDHTmBqn8mGYOtgJdloBXHdK3GEQT0hRGOb0ZELK7f6Wvve1rxTLWacTo-ZnaUQQdhwHTiz-/s320/IMG_0192.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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then, pour into a clean jar, and try not to eat it all at once! </div>
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i had some with jam on homemade bread. yummmm.</div>
j.d. worrellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01197602822313377566noreply@blogger.com1