tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69778600111083810242024-03-13T11:10:19.140-06:00lalalalarisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.comBlogger565125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-82463858956150083812017-03-26T06:30:00.000-06:002017-03-26T06:30:17.019-06:00dear maddox//four yearsdear maddox,<br />
<br />
happy, happy birthday my sweet little love. today you are four. today you have lived on this earth for one thousand four hundred and sixty days, each one more perfect and precious than the last. i should not be surprised that we are here already, with how cruel time rushes past us, but i am. as i look back through my last letters to you and look through your baby pictures and remember where i was at exactly this time four-years-ago (sitting in my doctor's appointment when she said, "let's have a baby tonight! you would be born the following day at two twenty seven in the afternoon.), i cry tears of joy over you, sweet boy. you already asked me, "mama, will you be sad tomorrow?" your sweet empathetic heart, worried about others, always.<br />
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the answer is yes, yes i will be sad tomorrow. i will watch you play with your friends and open your presents and be surrounded by people who love and cherish you and i will rejoice for this community of people who love you, who love us. but i will be sad as you turn another year older and suddenly say a word that you've never been able to say, like how you can suddenly say "okay," instead of "otay." i will be sad that these moments are fleeting, that the years are fast and that you are moving more towards independence. you promised me that you will give me cuddles tomorrow and then i cried again, wondering just how you are all the best parts of us, with a little flair of attitude thrown in for good measure. you also like to say, "i'll always be your baby goose. i'm your baby goose, amin't i?" and you are, forever and always.<br />
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can i tell you what happened a few weeks ago? i can't even remember now what sparked the tantrum, i'm sure it was something to do with not enough books before your nap, but your fit was a new kind of mad. we let you be upset and quietly shut the door as you balled your little hands into fists and screamed until your face was red. we went back to whatever we were doing and i heard you calling for me after a few minutes of silence. and my sweet boy, i didn't instantly rush to you. i thought you were calling me back to argue some more but after a few straight minutes of you yelling for me, i finally went to you, and do you know what you said? you said, "i just want to apologize for yelling like that." i think that i sat on the bed and held you in my arms until i could keep it together but all the while, sitting in utter amazement at your three-year-old self, apologizing for your actions without being prompted and not because you wanted anything in return. sometimes i can't even do that.<br />
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my heart explodes daily. when you tell me a joke (you're all about jokes now), or ask if that's a damn coffee maker or tell me i'm your favorite people or make a wish in the wishing pool at the library for your little sister to come home soon or tell me how you're so good at sharing so you'll be the best big brother. you make up games and songs and entertain yourself when i can't. you play with your tiny dinosaurs and can list off probably every single dinosaur there ever was and tell me how they died (dust cloud, obviously), and what fossils are and your favorite facts about every single one. you are a little sponge because i think everything with teeth is a t-rex and you are ready to correct my errors and to teach me everything you know. you are brilliant and kind and wonderful and funny and you are the best part about this life.<br />
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i think i am surprised that we are here at four because we have moved so far beyond your baby years. i look at those pictures and videos in awe because that was lifetimes ago. when you used to say, "i'mma know?" instead of "i don't know," with that perfect little inflection at the end. now you can rattle off words like "pachycephalosaurus" and i have to sound it out every single time.<br />
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you have taught me more in these four short years than i think i learned in my lifetime before you. i didn't know that i could love someone as much as i love you, but it still surprises me. when i drop you off with one of your grandmas and i fight every nerve as it screams to go back to you. this thing we do now, this push and pull of letting go and testing independence. it's an exercise in letting go and i'm terrible at it.<br />
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you have been talking about your birthday for months now. and yes, the pain of you growing older will be there, as i wonder how time could possibly move as fast as it does and how swiftly it has carried us from your first day of life, to now your fourth birthday. i rejoice over you, am thankful for you, cannot imagine a more fortunate existence. i love you to pluto and around the sun, more and more and most. <br />
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i will forever be turned inside out, because you are my son.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>i love you, i love you, i love you.</i><br />
<i>mama </i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-65295770244766871042016-05-03T02:17:00.001-06:002016-05-03T02:17:19.188-06:00doubleFor the fourth anniversary of my 24th birthday (when all your friends tell everyone they know that it's your 24th, YES. Keep them.), I got my nose double pierced. I've wanted to do it for seventeen-years but never had the courage to. So, here's a quick back story on my 4A24B (LOLOLOL): Evan had to go on a leadership retreat for the church so I knew I had to do something fun for myself or I'd sit at home and cry. So, since I've wanted my nose pierced again forevs, I decided to just do it. In the secret because ME. My 4A24B. I called and made an appointment. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN from the moment I spoke to the homie on the phone that this was a bad idea. A BAD IDEA. I REPEAT. BAD IDEA. But I'm like NO. It's MY BIRTHDAY. YOU DO YOU, L.<br />
<br />
Here's our FIRST convo:<br />
<br />
"What time works for you?" -him<br />
"Anytime!" -me<br />
"Are you an anytime girl? I like an anytime girl."-him<br />
*laughs uncomfortably*-me<br />
"Sorry I'm so playful right now. I have to do a serious piercing in a minute."-him <br />
<br />
FIRST INSTINCT TO GTFO. But I didn't. Because sometimes when I set my mind to something, nothing will deter me from getting it done. Apparently even weirdo piercing men.<br />
<br />
So today. I started with getting my birthday drink from Starbs, obvi, a giant coffee the size of two of my heads. And I also got Maddox a drink because I'm considerate like that but also my ulterior motive was to distract him so that he'd chill out and behave since I have three thousand people who daily offer to watch Maddox when I need it, but obviously not when I'm getting my nose double pierced. And then my first mistake: I took my giant (technical size term: two adult heads) drink into the store. And he was like, "I'm nervous about them." Like, I'm not gonna spill my giant coffee that I got for free, homie. (But then I almost did and that would have been not hilarious today but maybe tomorrow when I stopped crying about it.) And actually, the first thing he said to me was, "I remember you." And I was like, "Nope." Because I've never met this man in my life. Ever. Never.<br />
<br />
So. All I want is for him to PLEASE put another hole in my nose. Instead he takes exactly ONE FULL HOUR to do so. Here are the things that happened in that hour:<br />
<br />
1. He called Maddox a girl so rapid-fire I could not correct him. "She's so cute!" "She's a little model." "She's so loud!" "She's going to spill her drink!" No. SHE IS NOT A SHE.<br />
<br />
2. Right after five-hundred "she's," he said, "I have really good intuition. When I guess what color would look good on your face, that's me honing my intuition." BUT COULDN'T USE HIS INTUITION ON MY S-O-N. Boy. She's a he. Boy.<br />
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3. Took me to the piercing room and kept complimenting my nose. JUST SHOVE A RING THROUGH IT I DON'T EVEN CARE AT THIS POINT.<br />
<br />
4. Lined it up for 45-minutes.<br />
<br />
5. A lady came in who got one of those weird headache piercings and she cried because her headaches were gone and she got her life back but sadly she lost a ball from the hoop. (You have to have the ball on the hoop or the headaches come back, guys.)<br />
<br />
6. The man said to the lady, "This is Maddox; (you guys, Maddox for a girl?! COME ON USE YOUR quote unquote INTUITION, MY FRIEND), she's so cute!" Lady responds, "Hi, Madison!"<br />
<br />
7. I can't.<br />
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8. After they discuss him being a girl for a few minutes, Maddox eventually says, "I a girl. I not a boy anymore." OH MY GOSH WHAT HAVE I DONE?!<br />
<br />
9. We finally get to the piercing stage.<br />
<br />
10. Maddox is playing a game on my phone. The man says, "Now, that's not going to ring or make ANY noise while I'm doing this, is it?" I turn it on airplane. FOUR POINT ONE SECONDS LATER, no less than 15-phones in the establishment all start ringing and vibrating at once. As if I'm a distraction. JUST PLEASE. And then five hundred people walk in to buy all his weird flag/curtain crap. And ask to watch my nose piercing but then leave when they realize I'm not getting naked. I'M SERIOUS.<br />
<br />
11. He then asks me what my husband does. I say, "He's the college pastor at our church." IN AN ESTABLISHMENT WITH TONS OF WEIRD FLAGS AND INCENSE AND DRUGS. He proceeds to tell me a story where he went to a dinner party and the hosts wouldn't stop smiling so he farted. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING but I laugh hysterically/awkwardly because I don't know what else to do and I don't want to die today. It's my birthday.<br />
<br />
12. He proceeds to cuss a lot because he thinks it's funny that I'm involved in church.<br />
<br />
13. CUTE.<br />
<br />
14. No-more-headaches-lady basically babysits Maddox while all of this is happening. He is saying, "I the HULK!!!!" "I play Alex's drums at church!" Plenty of boy things. She keeps complimenting Madison on how cute she is. EYE ROLL.<br />
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15. The man makes me lay down to pierce my nose and tells me to relax. I have never been so nervous/stiff/stressed out in my life. I could not be more rigid if I was three-days dead.<br />
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16. HE FINALLY PIERCES MY NOSE.<br />
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17. He makes me lay there for another 100-minutes to calm down. Tells me to breathe and then hands me a weird stick. QUESTION MARK, WHY. And then tells me it is my birthday wish stick and to make a wish and when I'm ready to break the stick. He's still holding on to it. I'm like, a wishbone? Nah, I'm all set. But it's weird so I do it. Immediately. I'm so stressed out I can't even think of half of a wish. I'm literally thinking, "PLEASE GOD LET ME NOT DIE TODAY AND GET ME THE HECK OUT OF HERE." And I break the stick. With his end, he starts TAPPING ME ON THE FOREHEAD. WHAT. THE. WHAT. As like, I don't know, some kind of voodoo. And then rubbing my temple! And then tapping the top of my head! I AM NOT RELAXED BECAUSE THAT IS A SHARP STICK!<br />
<br />
18. He shows me my piercing and says some rude thing about how I can see my piercing but not God. What? I don't know. Leave me alone.<br />
<br />
19. He finally lets me sit up. BUT THEN I HAVE TO SIT THERE BECAUSE HE MADE ME LAY DOWN AND NOW I'M GONNA PASS OUT.<br />
<br />
20. He starts up a flip-phone from the year 100. He SHAKES IT AS IT TURNS ON. As if it's an etch-a-sketch. IT IS NOT. IT IS A FLIP PHONE. Half the first-world population under 15 doesn't even know what that is. Get rid of it. He takes a picture of me. Because congrats on taking 400-days to put a new hole in my nose. Then takes one of Maddox and I. Calling him a her 4524 more times.<br />
<br />
21. Teaches me how to clean it. I don't listen because Maddox is telling me he has to pee and I'm concerned I'm about to get peed on.<br />
<br />
22. He hugs me over the counter. What? We don't need to touch. You just intimately had your hands in my nose and I think that was enough for me.<br />
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23. I RUN AWAY. NEVER TO RETURN.<br />
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You have to write these things down or they technically didn't happen. larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-80415863928576371222016-03-26T07:00:00.000-06:002016-03-26T07:00:13.585-06:00dear maddox//three yearsDear Maddox,<br />
<br />
Happy, happy birthday, my sweet baby love. Today you are three. Today you
have lived on this earth for one thousand and ninety five days, each one
more perfect and precious than the last. As we have neared closer to your birthday, I have wondered just how we've gotten here so fast already; yet I've given so much thanks for everything about you. I couldn't have imagined how much you would grow up in these past few weeks before three and even though you don't age all at once when you land on your birthday, I feel that in some ways you've done just that. But maybe that's just God's way of saying that three is going to be okay. It will be more than okay, I am sure of it; but we'll give my fragile mama heart a little break today.<br />
<br />
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I hold great hopes for you, sweet boy. I know that today you are three but you're teetering on the edge of your childhood, about to embark on your greatest adventure. I want you to be brave, be kind, be thankful, be adventurous, be courageous, be compassionate. Be all of the things that will propel you into a life worth living. Here you are at three, which sounded so old and independent when you were freshly born. I must have thought the number wrong, because the days before three are nothing like I expected. You're still asking me to cuddle you and rock you good night and rub your back and sing your song to you. Sometimes you crawl into my lap and say, "Mama? I need you." and every time that you do, my heart could not possibly hold any more love for you, but it does anyway and I marvel at the fact that my body carried something so wonderful and so precious and still holds half of my heart, while the other half beats outside my body.<br />
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It's been a lifetime of seconds since you were born. And another lifetime will pass between this moment and your birthday. You will grow older and I'll cry a little and take five thousand pictures to remember these moments forever. Your forever uncut, unkempt, unruly hair. The way you call a "hood" a "hook" and the "TV" the "TP" and it's a "basketball hoot" and you still can't say your "c's" or your "k's" and sometimes you call us "Dan" and "Mamba." I'll take everything, even when you repeat the cuss words we let slip or ask me why that man is in the woman's bathroom. I'll take the tiny bite marks in all the apples in the fridge and the sharing of three cuties between you and I when we watch TV. I'll take the hardened chunk of playdoh that will never come out of the carpet and the blue stripe of chalk on my livingroom wall. I'll take toys on the floor and the books spread out in your room and the mountains of laundry and your itty bitty washcloths in every load and your socks in every corner of the house except for a complete set anywhere and half-full glasses of water in every room and calls from your room every night for one more kiss and one more story and the need to tell me one more question, as you say.<br />
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I can't remember not being a mom, the moments before my heart was split in two and fused to yours. I can't remember the moments before you, even though they're right there but I can't completely remember them. You consume me and nothing is a match for my love for you. Sometimes I feel like my heart can't contain this kind of love because until you have your own child, you can't possibly know. And it surprises me every single day and I think that tomorrow or next week or next time you throw a temper tantrum I won't be surprised by this kind of far-reaching love that seeps into every fiber of my being and covers even the deepest, darkest parts of life. But I am. Every single time it surprises me and awakens me. <br />
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These are the moments that I know I'll miss this the most, this sacred ground we stand on. These moments are fleeting and I'll hold onto them tightly as I gently release you into three and then four and on and on until I'm only left with the memories of these best years, where my heart has burst a thousand times over.<br />
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I will forever be turned inside out, because you are my son.<br />
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<i>I love you. I love you. I love you.</i><br />
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<i>mama </i>larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-25673571532820963652016-02-19T23:09:00.003-07:002016-02-19T23:09:53.486-07:00...I remember once, six-months-old, bawling in the shower because six-months felt like such a lifetime to me. It felt like the newborn days had left in a fury and I was left grasping at the smoke. And I remember, vividly, when Evan told me, "He's this much closer to saying I love you. And giving hugs and kisses." And it was true but I didn't believe it. Because good things do come with age. Like he's now a month and a week from being three and he has the curliest head of hair and says the funniest things and has full-on conversations with us about his life that he is living because he really is a tiny human and not just a baby anymore. And even though I sometimes wonder how we got here so fast, because I can still remember the exact moment of standing in my hospital room, the overflow one, with the window that looked out onto the roof, standing there in front of that little window and cradling his body in the very first onesie we ever bought him, the one we bought to bring him home in, the white and yellow one with giraffes and zebras on it that said "best friends," I remember that so vividly it could have happened an hour ago. It does feel like three years happened in an hour and I'm not sure how we stuffed a lifetime of memories in an hour, in three years, but we've done it and I'm thankful for it. I wouldn't change a thing except to ask time to slow down and give us more time before we hit three, before we hit four, before we lose these toddler years. I love them so. I love him so. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-56041700621396804322016-01-08T16:31:00.000-07:002016-01-08T16:31:34.240-07:00Things Maddox says v.4<div style="text-align: center;">
"If you hit me again, you will go to jail."-Evan</div>
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"No! It's rough in there."-Maddox</div>
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"What's your name?"-me</div>
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"Maddox Oliver Took."-Maddox</div>
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"What's mom's name?"-me</div>
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"Moms Oliver Took."-Maddox</div>
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"You have glitter everywhere."-me (that's from when I thought he was napping but he was actually dumping my nail glitter all over my room)</div>
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"On mine booty?"-Maddox</div>
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"I love you."-me</div>
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"I love you, too. I love you more."-Maddox</div>
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"I need a helmet. For Christmas."-Maddox</div>
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"Maddox, do you like football? Can you give me a play-by-play?"-me</div>
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"Yeah. Put it in the hole."-Maddox</div>
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"That's very funny but very gross."-Maddox</div>
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"It's time to nap."-me</div>
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"I need to dance first."-Maddox</div>
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"Do you want to eat this snow?"-me</div>
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"No. It's not food."-Maddox</div>
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"Please leave that light on so I can see."-me</div>
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"It's too late to say sorry."-Maddox</div>
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"Birds poop, too."-Maddox</div>
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"Maddox, you're not big enough to push the button."-me</div>
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"I are big. Yook!"-Maddox </div>
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"Hey mom? What color is your hair?"-Maddox</div>
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"Can you help me carry this stuff in?"-me</div>
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"It's tired in here."-Maddox </div>
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"What does a raccoon say?"-me</div>
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"Put your fingers to your mouf and say, 'meeeememeememe.'"-Maddox</div>
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"Let's try this table. *Leans on the table.* Yep."-Maddox</div>
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"Jingle balls. Jingle balls. Jingle balls. Jingle all da way."-Maddox</div>
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"Yook! More ickasuls!"-Maddox </div>
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translation: icicles </div>
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"My hands are fingered."-Maddox</div>
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"I just bein Justin Beiber."-Maddox</div>
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"What's Justin Beibers doin?"-Maddox</div>
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"Do chickens live in eggs?"-Maddox</div>
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"No, chickens don't live in eggs."-me</div>
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"YEAH! DO!"-Maddox </div>
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"Oh! Okay!"-me</div>
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"Chickens like livin in eggs."-Maddox </div>
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larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-24500491518852728472016-01-08T16:21:00.000-07:002016-01-08T16:21:31.228-07:00an updateWell. Things sure got quiet around here, but for a very good reason, this I promise you. Evan and I have decided to begin our adoption journey! It's something that's obviously been on our hearts for many years but only a serious conversation for the past few months. Evan went out of town and into the mountains without any phone service this past summer and I stayed home and didn't sleep because that's what I do when I'm alone. So, I didn't sleep and instead I researched everything adoption and pre-applied to a bunch of different agencies and was pre-approved through a couple. We narrowed it down to our top two agencies and finally picked an agency a few weeks ago. They're a Christian organization and the director of intake has e-mailed me at least once a week with such encouragement and kindness and I couldn't help but choose them.<br />
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The cost of an adoption is around $40,000 give or take $5 grand PLUS outside expenses like airfair and the paperwork once your child is home, etc. It's crazy and we know it but we're not going to let that number that seems so huge (and at times, unattainable) get in the way of bringing home a baby to our forever family. My adoptive mama friend told me to break everything up into smaller, more manageable chunks. My new BFF, the director of intake, told me that before we fully submit our application, that we should have six to ten thousand dollars ready to go so we're not slowed down by not having the money ready to go. There are lots of loans and grants and help but we're hoping to fundraise most of it through t-shirts, a YouCaring page, prints and now some embroidery hoops! We have lots of friends who have offered to sell products for us as well or donate a portion of the proceeds of their business to us and we are so thankful and blessed to have such generous supporters. We know that it will take a village and we know that adoption is big on so many people's hearts, even those that haven't been called to adopt themselves.<br />
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So, you can follow along on that journey at our new <a href="http://youandusforever.blogspot.com/">adoption blog</a> where I've got links to everything and Evan and I will update that frequently so you can always know where in the process we are. We're so excited to finally begin this journey and over the past week since we've announced it, we've raised a couple thousand dollars (Evan would know the exact amount but I'm still in awe of the $1,000 check we got from one of our dear friends BEFORE we even announced!) and God has been moving. We covet your prayers and love to talk about this. So, questions, comments, anything, please shoot us an e-mail at youandusforever[at]gmail[dot]com. Thanks for being a part of our story. It's gonna be a good one.<br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-92035436810022292112015-12-25T00:16:00.001-07:002015-12-25T00:16:18.891-07:0012/12 [round 2]Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.<br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-51482749767630542372015-11-30T12:51:00.000-07:002015-11-30T12:51:11.473-07:0011/12Hi, hello. Neglecting this little blog corner over here in lieu of Big Things happening in my life. Such as: taking the entire month of December off (except for 2 shoots that were planned months ago) to celebrate a wonderful, busy year AND new and exciting things coming in 2016 AND just to be with my two favorite guys without worrying about the amount of photos to edit. Yay. I can hardly wait. Today is the last day in November and even though I'll have to work a little tiny bit in December, I am throwing myself a party tomorrow that will consist of sitting in front of the fireplace and reading the day away.<br />
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We also have something super exciting to share and are planning on announcing that around Christmastime. No hints will be given because it's new and exciting and we took a little video last week and rearranged our home to use our favorite wall as background for the video. So, the couch ended up in the dining room for a moment and I hung up these pictures last minute and we've decided they'll stay there forever.<br />
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Also, no I will not cut my child's hair. Stop asking. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-52858690328291689202015-11-02T11:13:00.002-07:002015-11-02T11:13:43.330-07:0010/12 [round two]We made it to the pumpkin patch by the skin of our teeth this year. We went the day before Halloween and it was perfect and cloudy until we put the car in park in the parking lot and then suddenly the heavens opened and it poured for five minutes while we debated if we should just forget it or if we should wait it out. We waited it out and I'm so glad we did because I love the pumpkin patch (even if we don't get any pumpkins because they're so expensive there). AND. Because of the rain, everyone cleared out and we were the <u>only</u> people in the entire pumpkin area for a good 15-minutes (most of which was spent trying to get Maddox to take a picture of Evan and I but he only managed to get the ground or the sky, no in-between). So, winning all around. Also, if someone could explain why my two-year-old looks like a teenager in this picture, I'll pay you. I can't figure it out but I'm like if you don't start to slow down this whole growing up thing, we're going to put you in timeout for life. I think that should do it. Also, I found that skirt at Old Navy for $6 and so I'm incredibly proud of it.<br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-49007953155419463612015-10-26T10:24:00.001-06:002015-10-26T10:24:17.529-06:00our parkI love our park. I love that this October has been <u>so</u> nice <u>so</u> late so that we can go to the park and play for hours on end and then my child is exhausted and sleeps <u>all.night.long</u> and I got my daily dose of vitamin D and didn't melt in the heat. I love it. I also love this cute boy and his adorable beanie and how much joy this plastic equipment brings him. I also love that we live directly across the street so that when an older child shows up who's sole mission is to teach my child how to climb on the tube slide and to walk on the rails and to sprint across the park and get him to follow her, we can easily walk home and scout their departure so that we can come back to the peace and quiet that we prefer. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-86129340396431116632015-10-18T14:21:00.000-06:002015-10-18T14:21:10.187-06:00Things Maddox Says V.3Less than a month and I have a whole handful of goodies from this little love. He talks nonstop and if you don't respond immediately, he'll just continue to say or ask over and over and over and over and over until you acknowledge him. But. He's SO funny. Evan and I are constantly dying over the little things he says and I'm cherishing these moments that he still says "mine" instead of "my" ("mine shoes," for example) because pretty soon it won't be as cute and he'll have to talk properly and I'll miss these baby words. But until then, here are some goodies as of late.<br />
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"How many times did you go to the church today?"-Evan</div>
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"Too much."-Maddox</div>
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"Where mine timeout at?"-Maddox</div>
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(we updated him to a big boy bed and that was the first thing out of his mouth when he saw that his crib was gone. someone probably spent a little too much time in timeout.)</div>
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"We do not do that! Go put yourself in timeout!"-Evan</div>
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"No, thank you."-Maddox</div>
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(update: Evan couldn't stop laughing and therefore no timeout was had.)</div>
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"Mom go Guacamole?"-Maddox</div>
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"No, I'm not going to Guatemala. Do you want me to go to Guatemala?"-me</div>
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"Yeah. I stay at Grandma's house."-Maddox</div>
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"I hurt mine ankle. I need to go to docker's office."-Maddox </div>
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"Did you tell daddy that we shared a pizza today?"-me</div>
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"You did? What kind of pizza?"-Evan</div>
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"No type."-Maddox</div>
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"Maddox, say, 'Racoon.'"-Evan</div>
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"Racktoon."-Maddox</div>
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"I go in bathtub, get mine booty wet."-Maddox</div>
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"Hi Grandpa, Grandma and Bay. Doin? Makin soup? See you later."-Maddox, pretending to talk on the phone.</div>
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"Where's Grandma?"-Evan</div>
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"In Afrita."-Maddox</div>
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"What's dat?"-Maddox</div>
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"A triangle."-me</div>
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"Oh. I yuv dat triangle."-Maddox</div>
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"Dis piggy went market. Dis piggy wee wee wee wee. Dis piggy eat roast beef. Dis piggy eat dirt. Dis piggy eat dirt too." -Maddox</div>
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"Ockapus."-Maddox</div>
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"I'm cleanin up dis wall. Some poop and some cheese on it."-Maddox</div>
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Also noteworthy: Says "veggies" sounds like "butt cheese." </div>
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larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-56429979707790186072015-10-09T11:55:00.000-06:002015-10-09T11:55:20.386-06:00Can we celebrate the fact that today is Friday, I have two engagement shoots this weekend and breakfast + photos with one of my dear, dear friends who is basically sunshine in a human? And let's throw in a good helping of I'm finally feeling human again after the flu + the world's worst sinus infection. And that I didn't think Maddox could get any cuter but then you slip a beanie on his cute head and yep. He can. Hip, hip, FRIYAY!<br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-32235003942853555122015-09-23T11:36:00.000-06:002015-09-23T11:36:01.704-06:00jars of carrotsThis weekend while Evan and I were in Red Lodge, we ate at one of my favorite restaurants, Mas Taco. They give you a tiny slice of pickled carrot with your entree, like a garish I suppose, but I obviously eat it because pickled anything (besides beets and eggs of course) is my love language. And then Evan gave me his because he is kind and I also ate his slice of pickled carrot. And then I had the idea yesterday that I should pickle my own carrots. Because I had a bag of fresh carrots from my parents' garden and what else was I going to do with them? So, I borrowed my mom's canner, looked up a few recipes and got to it. I was intending on making six jars but then let the vinegar brine boil just a little too long and came up about 1/2 a jar short and because I'm not super great at math, decided to not cut down the brine recipe and just forget the last jar. I also shoved half a jalapeno (or some spicier equivalent) in two of the jars but I'll let those marinate for a few weeks before I open them up for a taste test.<br />
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Just having the jars on the counter makes me feel like my cute little mama in all her canning glory. Even though I'll never be as good as she is with her muscle memory for everything and her rows of canned everything you could possibly think of (rosemary lemon dilly beans. horseradish dilly beans. cinnamon spiced pears. spicy tomato soup. tomatoes with peppers and onions. raspberry jalapeno jelly. strawberry rhubarb jam. etc. etc. etc.) and her ability to make 30 different things in an entire weekend and fill up the little room in their basement with 500 jars of goodness and then share everything with me who didn't lift even a finger to help. So. I'm moving in that direction, only much slower. At about the pace of a sloth. With the equivalent napping schedule as that of a sloth. I'll get there some day. Until then. Cheers to my pickled carrot success.<br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-57933496683080402442015-09-21T17:06:00.000-06:002015-09-21T17:06:35.609-06:009/12 [round two]We went to the mountains this weekend because we didn't have a wedding. Today, Monday, when I still have three weddings to edit and another coming up this weekend, I'm like perhaps I should have hunkered down and stared at the computer instead of driving into the mountains where there is no service and I can ignore everything in blissed out ignorance for a few hours and pretend like we really do live in a state with no electricity or telephones or e-mail.<br />
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But instead, I took a nap today. I laid down with my sweet curly haired boy and we slept for a few hours and I finished a book and started a new book and wrote a little bit. And I still have three weddings to edit and another coming up this weekend and I'll still have that tomorrow but I'll still be glad I took a weekend and then another day for myself.<br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-38048897623848492352015-09-21T16:56:00.000-06:002015-09-21T16:56:06.018-06:00bestI have found the <i>real</i> definition of best friend:<br />
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Someone you can live with and not be annoyed by the fact that they leave globs of toothpaste in the sink after brushing their teeth and they bring some kind of stomach virus into the house so that everyone under the roof acquires the virus and their shoes are everywhere except for the closet and when they make the bed, they don't fold the comforter and sheet down in that way that you like but instead tuck everything under the pillows. But they also wake up at your son's first cry and play with him for an hour or three so you can get an hour or three extra minutes of sleep. They also wake up early to surprise you by cleaning and organizing the house that you've neglected because you have three weddings to edit and threw up for two days straight thanks to that pesky virus and you're also having a going away party for one of your girlfriends. They bring you dinner and take you to brunch and arrive with blessed surprise latte's at all hours of the day. You can spend minutes that turn to hours that turn to days on days with them and the annoyances don't add up like little ticks in your mind until you need a free minute or you'll scream.<br />
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That's how you know you've found your best friend, your soul mate, your love. So stop looking, be content and take adventures and forget the people who aren't this and never will be. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-76977033451725983392015-09-18T13:14:00.000-06:002015-09-18T13:14:01.275-06:00MineThis one is week and one day from being two-and-a-half and I can't stop staring at these pictures. He's perfect. <br /><br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-6479338599288998302015-09-17T16:36:00.000-06:002015-09-17T16:36:18.714-06:00things Maddox says V.2More, as of late.<br />
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"Mom! Go titchen!"-Maddox</div>
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"What's in the kitchen?"-me</div>
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"Poop in there."-Maddox</div>
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"There's poop in the kitchen?"-me</div>
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"Yeah, I do."-Maddox</div>
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(no worries, friends. no poop in the "titchen.")</div>
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"Wash it!"-Maddox</div>
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"Don't be bossy!"-me</div>
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"Wash it. NOW!!!"-Maddox</div>
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"What's your favorite thing in the whole world?"-me</div>
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"New diaper."-Maddox</div>
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"Too picy me."-Maddox</div>
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(translation: too spicy for me.)</div>
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"How cute are you?"-Evan</div>
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"So toot!"-Maddox</div>
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"What do you want to drink?"-me</div>
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"Um, beer."-Maddox</div>
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(for those of you not a regular in my life, Evan and I tend to cheat and tell Maddox that anything we don't want to share is beer. Apparently we say that more than we think.)</div>
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"I want mine aboon."-Maddox</div>
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(translation: balloon)</div>
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"Damnit, Jay!"-Evan</div>
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"DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT!"-Maddox</div>
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"That is definitely P.I."-Evan</div>
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"Definite."-Maddox</div>
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"Look your hair! Look so pretty!"-Maddox to me (yes, dead.)</div>
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"Oh mine dear."-Maddox</div>
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"You're going to see grandma."-me</div>
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"Bay?"-Maddox (Bay's the dog)</div>
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"No, other grandma."-me (we differentiate them by their animals I guess)</div>
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"Bonnie?"-Maddox</div>
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"Yes."-me</div>
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"Bonnie. Bonnie. Bonnie. I yuv Bonnie."-Maddox</div>
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(my mom is thrilled that Maddox prefers to call her Bonnie)</div>
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"Hi, yittuh birds! Doing up dere?"-Maddox </div>
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larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-83528853349613252582015-09-03T22:48:00.000-06:002015-09-03T22:48:06.760-06:00Embarrassing Pictures of yours truly My mom and I went through some super great family photos because Evan and I and some friends were just discussing my childhood and I had a super great childhood complete with 80's and 90's outfits and the messiest hair anyone has ever seen. My mom told me, "I promised myself that I would take photos of you even if you didn't look that great." And then also that I have a large forehead. So, I'm very loved and also real life. Here we go.<br />
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Totes appreciate this one of my brother and I, circa 7th-8thish grade. I'm guessing because I started straightening my hair around that time but really sucked at it, as you probably can tell. My mom made me sit in front of her tulip garden every year for my birthday, which is what is happening here. Note my shirt situation in the arms, like armor but cotton. Just really great, all of it.<br />
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Ohhhkay, Miss Model, tone it down with the plastic GLUE-ON purple nails and lipstick. WHO THE WHO is letting you wear lipstick at what, 10? I mean, classic Larissa hair: Half up in a GIANT scrunchy with a bajillion flyaways and even more barretts to hold them all back. Note my mom's amazing floral couch that she got rid of and probably would go for gobs of cash today because that's the thing. I begged her for like 14-years of my life to get rid of it and now I kind of want it back.<br />
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My mom told me it was, and I quote, "A chilly summer." I'm unsure as to why that warrants mom jeans (JORTS NO LESS) and a turtle neck on a 8-year-old. Again with the hair. Classic mess.<br />
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You're really getting the full treatment here. TWEE-TEE BIRD. Man I loved me some Tweety Bird. I don't even know why I was so obsessed with that stupid yellow bird baby thing but I was. That and Eeyore. I'm so embarrassed because now look at children's clothes in Target and Gap and there is not even a trace of Tweety Bird. Where was my mom during this awful decision making? This picture was taken on a hike (jeans are a good idea in Montana in the summer on a 5-ish mile hike to a lake, yes, good call, 10-year-old, Larissa) and I don't know what I'm carrying or why those sunglasses are a thing but also I remember I used to have an aversion to tennis shoes and here I am, hating my life in the dreaded tennis.<br />
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Here I am with my dad in Yellowstone. I'll let you in on some little-know facts about me. Number one: I used to wear my hear in Princess Leia buns on the side of my head and I had these adorably stupid bobby pins with red roses glued to the ends and I would shove them in the buns and I thought I was brilliant and SO, so cute. Number two: That purple sweatshirt definitely has Eeyore on it. Facts not about me: My dad still looks the exact same. Although. I did show this picture to Maddox and he argued with me that that is actually my brother and not my dad.<br />
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And finally. My 11th birthday party at a place called "Play Zone," where it was endless tunnels and ball pits full of heroine needles and pee. Just kidding, but probably. I super love my hair, just like I said before: half up in a big-ass scrunchy with 30 or more barretts pinning it back. I mean, you can see two right there, imagine how many are on the other side. I was OBSESSED with barretts and keeping my hair out of my face and showing off my forehead, according to my mom. Wearing another classic Tweety Bird shirt in this picture, HBD to me. I also, ALSO, was madly in love with N SYNC. Like, to the point of probably should have gotten some therapy for the amount that I wanted to marry them. All of them, any of them, just please can I have one. We are all pointing to our favorites in this picture and I am about to throat punch the girl in the headband because she is pointing to my FAVORITE one, Chris Kirkpatric, thank you very much. Don't even test me on my N SYNC knowledge. Evan just last weekend decided my fan girl days have come to an end because he threw out my Disney Channel N SYNC Concert VHS that I recorded from the Disney Channel on the 4th of July that one year they played concerts all day long (best day ever). So. I'm in mourning. Speaking of mourning, check out my brother. Pissed my mom's making him be in the friggin picture, pissed it's only girls, pissed about N SYNC. Hard life, man.<br />
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Maddox will never probably have pictures like this. I mean, what could that child possibly do that is awkward? Nothing. I swear. So, we'll just continue to weep at the 90's decisions that my parents made (even though she swears I made them. Lies.) and continue to relive the goodness that was life. larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-57492496606462089472015-08-31T13:05:00.000-06:002015-08-31T13:05:02.966-06:008/12 [round two]I shall call this one, "Haters Gonna Hate" because my beloved Grizzlies defeated the number one team in football this past weekend or some junk. I actually don't care that much besides for like the first half minute because football means fall is just around the corner, but I absolutely HATE when people are all up in my face about my choice of team. Like, "All I can say is, sorry for Maddox." "You suck because you like the Griz." Just stupid things (both are true) people have said to me and I'm like you should try being a decent human being and realize that my choice of team has no bearing on my personality at all and also, Go Griz. I'm so over people's attitudes right now, I might never take off my Griz shirt. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-31999721772508654352015-08-25T19:17:00.001-06:002015-08-25T19:17:08.990-06:00fiveOur five-year was over a month ago, so obviously just getting around to pictures of the thing I made Evan. We are the cutest couple who does the typical anniversary theme (paper, leather, wood, whatever...), and year five is wood. I scoured Etsy and the Pin for ideas but no, my husband does not want an engraved hammer. We have thirty hammers. We don't need another. He doesn't want an engraved cutting board. I'm the cooker, so he would care zero percent about that. So, the lesson is, never include the words "anniversary" or "gift" in the search or that's basically all you're going to get. Engraved junk.<br />
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I found a super cool <a href="http://www.ceebeeandj.com/2013/09/diy-nightstands.html?m=1">bedside table DIY</a> and knew it was absolutely perfect because a) I stole his bedside table so he doesn't have one; b) it was wood; c) I could make it. I'm all about making things over buying them. So, I bought the wood, spent like 16-hours searching all over town for those damn legs (the Internet is full of LIES about where you can buy them) and hired my dad to help me out with the power tools. I basically wanted him to show me what to do since my experience with power tools is about a level zero and I prefer to keep all my fingers and toes. But he also trusts me zero percent so he took over and busted everything out and then helped me put it together.<br />
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But I did help. Swear.<br />
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Every time I walk in our room I have the urge to steal it because it's so cute. But my bedside table has two drawers and if I gave up those drawers my room would explode in nail polish and random notes that I can't throw away and all of my oils and lotions and junk that one keeps in a bedside drawer. So, I'll leave this one for Evan, the minimalist, who literally has a picture of me and one single book on it. He needs to give out lessons on minimalism. I would be the first to sign up. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-66463660313765966932015-08-04T14:50:00.001-06:002015-08-04T14:50:36.853-06:00Maddox meets a horse This past weekend I did a little photoshoot for one of my client's whose son is turning two in a few weeks. She needed pictures for his invites and so she asked me to come down to a little farm and bring Maddox because horses. Obviously I did and obviously it was the best time. He's <i>seen</i> horses, but never in person. He's also not a fan of bigger animals. Our <i>very large</i> seven-pound dog is about as big as he's comfortable with. So, it was a big surprise to me when Evan plopped him down on that horse and he loved it. He about didn't want to get down so we almost had to take that horse home with us. I obviously was all for that but Evan had a few reservations about getting another pet. I'm like, "LOOK AT THIS LION FACE RABBIT THING IT'S ONLY FIFTY DOLLARS WE SHOULD GET IT." Because I like animals for exactly five seconds before I am like, actually animals smell and are kind of gross. No thanks. But I really do want a horse. I shall have a horse some day. Until then. I'll probably be frequently this little farm and riding these horses to get my fix. Maddox's fix, too, because he clearly loved it. Also, beware the cute of that first picture. Little cowboy Tristan and Maddox, just holding hands like the best of buds. Excuse Maddox's tiny little black eye and cut on his face. The child definitely face-planted on a ramp at church last week. It was traumatic for everyone involved but mostly me because I'm the mom. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-21529711482364101332015-08-04T13:56:00.001-06:002015-08-04T13:56:09.012-06:0007/12 [round two]Oh, hiiiiiiiiii, August. Technically we <b>did</b> take this picture on Friday, which was July. This I promise. Not that it even matters. Except for that it does to me. So. Hi, OCD. We took this picture the moment Evan got home from work and we were all hangry and mean to each other (except for not Evan or Maddox, just me) and we promptly took a few pictures, called it good and went to find food. I ended up getting the worst, worst, worst headache at dinner and felt like death the rest of the night, which put me in bed around 8:30 and asleep before 10. I mean, death. Hence the forgetting slash neglecting of my blog baby. But here it is. One for July. A happy, energetic two-year-old who could jump on the bed all day, every day if you'd let him.<br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-17446945339749820522015-07-23T19:13:00.000-06:002015-07-23T19:13:30.099-06:00Things Maddox Says v.1Some of my favorite blog posts ever are from moms with hilarious kids. I don't know, maybe it's like how as a parent you think your child is the cutest child in all the world, even if he or she is most definitely not. Except for that Maddox is and also he's the funniest. We are the luckiest parents. So, I wanted to start posting the things he says here for safe keeping. When he turns three I'm going to do something really fun with all of the funnies he's said this year. Also, we came home from Guatemala and he was basically speaking in full sentences and we made a promise to never leave again. Here are just a few things Maddox has said over the past few months that have made us laugh:<br />
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"Do you want to count to ten?"-Evan<br />
"Yeah."-Maddox<br />
"One..."-Evan<br />
"Babies. Off."-Maddox <br />
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"Maddox, isn't it so nice outside?"-me<br />"Windy? Nope."-Maddox </div>
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<br />"Butt. Wet. Nice."-Maddox </div>
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"Close your eyes."-me<br />"Eyes up."-Maddox </div>
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"Did you go to church last night?"-me<br />
"Yeah."-Maddox<br />
"Did you learn about Jesus?"-<br />"Jesus. love. me."-Maddox </div>
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<br />"Buf-uh-you"-Maddox </div>
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(that's what he calls a buffalo and no one's allowed to correct him because it's SO cute.)</div>
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"Maddox, what's a buffalo?"-me<br />"Ummmm. Bless you. Bless you, mama."-Maddox </div>
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"What did you dream about?"-me<br />"Ummm. Beans."-Maddox </div>
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"Maddox, what's in your pocket?"-me<br />"Poop."-Maddox </div>
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"Maddox, should we got sit on the potty and try to go pee?"-me<br />"No, I peed right there."-Maddox </div>
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<br />"I love pickles."-Maddox </div>
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"Can you teach me how to count to ten?"-me</div>
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"One, two, eight, NINE!!!"-Maddox </div>
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larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-71117329553848474652015-07-13T19:19:00.000-06:002015-07-13T19:19:20.442-06:00for the love of fiveEvan and I snuck out of town this past weekend to celebrate five whole years together with a day or two of uninterrupted US time. We planned this trip before Guatemala because I made an appointment at a spa thanks to some unused giftcards and begged Evan to come with me and he agreed as long as I didn't make him do anything weird. (Run-on sentence for lyfe.)<br />
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Side bar: When I made the appointment, I told the guy (perfect, yes) that my husband is not a spa guy and I needed to sign us up for something man-friendly, what did he suggest. What did he suggest? A sugar body scrub or a body wrap. Yes, amen to that. I'll take two. <br />
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I am a Good Wife and so although it would have been comical to surprise Evan with a sugar body scrub, I declined that offer and instead got us a couple's facial and a couple's massage. Evan was still weirded out by everything. "Why are you naked under your robe?" "Complete comfort. You wear a bra for one day and report back to me." "Are there blankets on the bed?" "Are you supposed to wear the sandals?" Etc, etc. I'm clearly a Spa Veteran Princess and forgot that there are people here who don't frequent the spa enough to know what the heck is going on.<br />
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But I digress. I was completely ready for this spa date because on Thursday as I was trying to run errands and pick up a few final things before our trip, Maddox projectile vomited on me in the middle of Old Navy. He didn't eat breakfast (refused, first clue, idiot mom) and so it was all liquid and I was mortified and wanted to die right then and there. So yeah. Take me to the spa and don't come back, please and thanks.<br />
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I was pretty worried about leaving that sweet pea because what mama wants to leave her sickly child for two days while she's off gallivanting in the woods and having strangers rub lotion into her body parts? Well, I didn't but I thought about it for at least a minute.<br />
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It was only a single night away but it was just what we needed to refresh and unplug and celebrate. We had our spa date and then we went to dinner and I ate bison potstickers which is a <b>Big Deal</b> because buffalo disgust me but my gf Erin told me they were the best and so I let Evan have this one thing and they actually were good. So. She didn't lie to me and maybe buffalo isn't the most disgusting after all. The jury is still out on that one but there might be hope yet. We brought along our traditional anniversary cake and it was (and still is because it is SO. MUCH. CAKE.) delish. On Saturday we didn't set any alarms and woke up super late because we can and let's be real: because a tiny dictator wasn't there to boss us around. We had coffee and breakfast and drove up the mountain to do a little hiking and ended up doing a little hiking in the rain. I also bought cowboy boots for my gf Erin's wedding this August. I am so jacked about them because they're adorable and I live in Montana and so it's a requirement to be a citizen and I just now at 27 got my first pair (my first pair were actually white with sparkles and fringe but those have been long gone, sadly.) and I'm in love. Obviously I wore them to dinner and obviously I will probably wear them every day for the rest of forever because I love. <br />
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It was so good to get home to our little love even if it was only for one day. I'm a strong proponent of dating even if you're married. Like, just do it. Spend the money on a babysitter if you don't have grandparents (or friends who offer on the daily?) and get out there and enjoy each other. Maybe get yourselves a sugar scrub at a spa or save the money on that and mix up your own little sugar scrub and do it at home. That's romantic and cute and probably messy but mostly fun. <br />
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<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6977860011108381024.post-76488201042246025932015-07-10T07:00:00.000-06:002015-07-10T07:00:05.470-06:00FiveDear Husband,<br />
<br />
Anniversaries are boring. One whole day out of the year people celebrate their marriage like this one day matters more than the other three hundred whatever. That every single morning, sans one day, married people wake up and go about their business as if there's only one single day in the whole year that makes a marriage count. We fall into that trap as well. We get a babysitter and we make a reservation at a fancy restaurant. I dress up and spend more than 10-minutes curling my hair. I even wear lipstick and dig into the depths of my makeup drawer for the cracked and broken eyeshadows that I only wear once a year. I buy a new dress and maybe even new shoes and I'll surprise you with them seconds before we head out the door. And that's it. Sure, on our first anniversary we went to the mountains and stayed at a resort and had the best meal of our life and had too much wine because everyone we knew sent us on our way with a bottle of wine, plus the three that I had bought because I clearly thought that not one or two would be enough.<br />
<br />
But that's it.<br />
<br />
We put so much expectancy on the date that we got married that we forget about the in-betweens. The other three hundred whatever days of the year that aren't the special days. The days where I don't get out of my pajamas until it's 10 pm and I'm only getting out of them to put a clean pair on. The days where we fight and I don't speak a single word to you. The days where I have no motivation to do anything and so Maddox and I sit around until you come home and rescue us from the funk we've put ourselves in. Those are the days that I'm talking about. The ones that aren't boring because they're real life. Those are the days where the fights happen and the baby screams himself to sleep for approximately thirty minutes and the dinner didn't turn out like I had planned and I've ran the same load of laundry through the washer at least eight times because I don't want to put the crap from the dryer away.<br />
<br />
But you, my sweet husband, you've taken those three hundred whatever days and scooped them up like candy and presented them to me to prove that anniversaries are boring. It is a boring life to live for one whole day out of the whole year. It is a boring life to buy a new dress that I'll never wear again and to eat at a stuffy restaurant where we don't belong, just because we made it another year. Success in our next year of marriage does not hinge on how we spend July 10th, this I promise you.<br />
<br />
And this is what you've promised me because you have given me the opposite of a boring life. You have made this marriage count not just on the day we were wed, but on the other days too. I do put weight on this day because it is the day that I married my best friend. I wore a pretty dress and had my hair done and didn't see you until I came around the corner on my dad's arm and there you were at the top of those stairs and I was like, "Yes. This is it." And so I love today. I love that today marks the beginning of our life together and we can look at this day and remember why it is that we said, "I do," six, twenty, thirty-nine-years down the road. But I am so glad that you have chosen to make our marriage work the rest of the days, too. I'm glad that the rest of the days matter more than that one day. That you surprise me with days off of work and a coffee every Friday morning after your meeting with your students (it's still a surprise, okay? don't stop.) and desire for our marriage to be as much of an example of what God intended marriage to be as I do.<br />
<br />
Let's continue to have boring anniversaries. Even if we find
ourselves hiking across Europe or sticking our toes in the Caribbean.
Even if we live in Africa one day or across the country from our parents
and refuse to pay for a babysitter, let's keep them boring. Let's make
the days in between all of the years matter more.<br />
<br />
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Happy five-years. <i>I love you.</i> <br />
L<br />
<br />larisaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11351138380491864542noreply@blogger.com0