tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35437995775375291662024-02-20T10:01:21.461-08:00Life in ProgressCaitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-42758932040737973612017-03-21T13:18:00.002-07:002017-03-21T13:22:55.076-07:00Hey Seattle Here We Come, Right Back Where We Started FromSo, here's the skinny- we're moving back to Seattle! We quit France, Nate is going back to Amazon, and we're pretty excited about it. It's like this- life is difficult, and if it gets to be too much and there's a way to make it easier, you should do that thing. So, we did.<br />
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I'll be honest- I started writing this post a few days ago, and writing about some of the experiences we had in France and how hard they were made me cry just thinking about them. Whew- it was hard for me! I would like to point out, however, that very few of the struggles had to do with France itself. Most of the challenge had to do with trying to live off a PhD student budget (meant for one person, not three, it would appear), having our first baby, and not speaking the native language. I've never felt so stupid, so needy and desperate, or so lonely in my life. I guess I didn't realize how comfortable I was used to being.<br />
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So, when Nate was no longer sure a PhD was really for him, I was like, "SOLD! Let's go back!"<br />
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And really, it wasn't all bad. We were so lucky while we were there! We made wonderful friends, received so much help, and were so graciously welcomed by our church congregation and neighbors. Those experiences make me cry too, but more out of gratitude and amazement at the goodness of people. I could go on for days detailing all the help and kindness we received, much of it from people we barely knew or could hardly communicate with. However, I'll keep it to this: Moving forward, Nate and I have a new definition of what it means to be a friend and lend a helping hand, and to be our brother/sister's keeper. I am indebted to our French friends, and I could never give back to them what they gave to us. But, we are going to do our best to emulate their example! (So basically if you need help ask us- we owe the universe lots of favors ;) )<br />
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I don't regret our time in France in the least. It was so difficult, but also valuable. And hey- now we know how to live in another country (including having a baby!). That should come in handy at some point, I think!<br />
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So, frequently asked questions-<br />
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<ul>
<li>Nate met the requirements for a Master's degree before we left, so we did bring something more than refining life experiences back. </li>
<li>Nate is going back to Amazon, but on a different team in a different role. He is still in marketing, though.</li>
<li>Emma was born in France, but is not a French citizen. And yes, her "Born Abroad" birth certificate is cooler than your normal one.</li>
<li>We are looking at places in North and West Seattle. If you are close by, you will be invited to our housewarming party once we're settled.</li>
<li>We have nothing- sold everything to move to France, sold everything to move back, and so we get to start from total scratch. I am really excited about this, actually. </li>
<li>We were originally planning to move to Utah, but nothing worked out. So Utah friends, now you have a reason to visit Seattle :)</li>
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I think that about sums it up. We're excited to start another chapter!</div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-82222237331366693912016-03-28T06:30:00.000-07:002016-03-28T07:27:08.427-07:00On the Bright SideAs an update on my last post- things have been going great! We made the switch to formula (or rather- my body stopped making milk in spite of my efforts and we wanted to keep feeding our child). Though I've been disappointed, I'm so grateful we have options. We're all happy and healthy, and Emma has even slept through the night on her own the past few nights- fingers crossed she keeps doing that!<br />
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So now for the good stuff- pictures! It's crazy to me that in just 7 weeks, Emma has grown from this...<br />
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...to this! She is smiling all the time! We are loving it and are grateful for our cute and cuddly little baby!<br />
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She is a funny little baby too. We're not sure exactly why, but the changing table is her absolute favorite place to be. Whatever mood she's in beforehand, if we put her on the changing table, she's suddenly all smiles and enthusiastic wiggling. Also, nothing soothes her as well as some firm pats on the back. She will often fall asleep while we're burping her!<br />
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We are loving our little sugar!<br />
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Also, this Easter season has me especially mindful of our Savior and the hope He brings to my life and the lives of others. Because of His divine help, I know I'll have my little family even after this life and also receive strength along the way. </div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-47321970176933424342016-03-02T05:24:00.000-08:002016-03-02T06:18:23.878-08:00Intro to Motherhood: Flexibility!I've read and received a lot of advice and personal experiences about motherhood in the past few months. It's what happens when you're expecting your first baby, you don't have a job, and a lot of your friends have kids.<br />
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The best insight I received? Nothing can prepare you, and things will not go how you expect.<br />
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Starting with the birth. I wouldn't consider myself a zen master, but I used to think I had a pretty good grip on mind over matter and thus a high pain tolerance. Birth is natural, it's part of the cycle of life, and let's get real- I already have the hips of someone who's had 5 children, so how bad could it really be?<br />
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Fast forward to 2:30am on Monday, February 8th, where I was being blindsided by a pain I never could have imagined. I woke up to a contraction and my water breaking, and contractions every 2-3 minutes after that. The contractions were manageable at first, but quickly picked up in pain and intensity. In less than a half hour, it began to feel like I was being branded with red hot irons from the inside, all through my lower back, hips, and legs.<br />
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When we got to the hospital, they checked to see how dilated I was. The day before, Sunday, I had my 41 week appointment and I had been dilated to a 2. After the two hours of pain searing through my lower body, I was sure the birth was moving fast and I would have made significant progress.<br />
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"You're at three centimeters," the nurse informed me. I almost started crying, but then a contraction came. The pain was so great, I had to spend the "resting" time trying to catch my breath and coax my body through the shock of what just happened. And all of this work, for one centimeter of progress?<br />
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The nurse then turned our attention to the baby's heart monitor. Her heart rate would be between 135-150, and then drop to 80-90 whenever I had a contraction. "We know you wanted to have birth naturally, but when we see the heart rate drop like that, we usually recommend an epidural in case we need to do an emergency c-section. We're not sure, but the cord could be wrapped around her neck, or she could quickly go into distress. At this point, we'll let you decide though."<br />
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SOLD. Obviously the safety of my child was the most important, but I also wasn't sure I could take the pain anymore. I was running on two hours of sleep and I didn't have the emotional or physical capacity to get through seven more centimeters if they were anything like the first three.<br />
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So, we changed rooms, and they started setting up to give me an epidural. After two tries and what felt like eternity, the epidural was in and they handed me my little clicker. Whenever I felt pain, I just pushed the button for another shot of the medicine. I've never done hard drugs, but I can't say the appeal is lost on me anymore. We watched the contractions on the monitor, and instead of my vocal chords indicating the intensity, we just watched and said, "Oh- looks like that was a big one!"<br />
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The epidural allowed me some much needed sleep, and I dilated fairly quickly from there. In about two hours, I was at a seven or an eight. However, the baby's heart rate continued to drop whenever I had a contraction. The doctors kept an eye on it, but I don't remember any sense of alarm.<br />
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Around noon, I reached a ten, and then my contractions stopped. The nurse gave me a small amount of pitocin and my contractions sort of picked up again. The nurses checked the monitors regularly, and then suddenly there was a team of doctors in the room. They introduced one woman as the head doctor, and informed me that this baby needed to be born very quickly.<br />
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On one end of the room, a few of the nurses/doctors laid out tools for the potential emergency c-section. Because the baby wasn't engaging in the birth, the doctors also prepared to use a vacuum to help guide her through the birth canal. The doctor told me to push when she said, and to give it everything I had for a chance at a normal birth. So, I did. Her head came out on the first push, and we heard a little cry. Two more pushes and she was out and laid on my chest.<br />
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Once I started talking to her, Emma stopped crying almost instantly. This was a really cool and also surreal moment- I'm her mom! My voice is soothing to her! I still can't really believe it- there's someone who considers me a source of comfort and safety. Crazy.<br />
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While I held her, the doctors cleaned everything and started stitching me up. I'll try to keep the details minimal, but let's just say three pushes is a fast way to give birth and I have a lot of stitches. Nate saw the damage, I've decided there are some things it's best I never see.<br />
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I want to give a quick shout out to Nate here- he handled the entire thing like a champ and the medical staff was very impressed. Always very calm and trying to help me through it, and always very supportive. I wish I could give more details about him, but I was a little out of my mind for most of the whole thing. I know he didn't cause any problems! We also had our friend Julie with us- thank goodness! She's fluent in both French and English, and she provided a much needed link between us and the doctors.<br />
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Despite a somewhat traumatic birth, Emma Grace came into this world perfectly healthy with a little head of ginger hair. The birth was nothing like I expected, or thought that I wanted. However, I'm fine with how it happened. I'm mildly disappointed I didn't give birth naturally, but the epidural was what was needed at the time, and we have a healthy baby girl.<br />
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My next shock came in the form of breastfeeding. I had always assumed that because I was healthy, my pregnancy was healthy, and the baby was healthy, this would be a challenge but not overwhelming. I could not have been more wrong.<br />
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We were in the hospital for a week (standard for first time moms in France) and multiple nurses checked to see how nursing was going. It seemed to be going ok- a little painful, but the baby had a good latch and was gaining weight, so there didn't seem to be a problem.<br />
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After we got home, it continued to be more painful for me. Having heard this was pretty common, I kept going. A day or two later, I was bleeding. I was told that though this was less common, I should keep going, adjust positions/check the latch, and it would work out.<br />
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We visited with a lactation consultant. She suggested a few things, and scheduled an appointment for a few days later. She was optimistic, and said things should improve by her next visit. I was excited (nursing was starting to make me cry each time at this point) and implemented her suggestions. For a day or two, it worked and things seemed to be improving. Then they digressed, and became even worse than before. The consultant returned, confused, and offered a few more suggestions.<br />
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I tried everything she said. I took the advice of two other midwives, and I asked my mom, sister, and friends for ideas. This is the sensitive part for me- I did everything others suggested, I met with the lactation consultant two more times that week, and <i>nothing</i> seemed to help. My skin was torn up, nursing was excruciating, and Emma never seemed to get enough, meaning she would want to nurse more. I was sleep deprived and insecure, and felt like a failure.<br />
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Finally on Sunday I told Nate I couldn't do it anymore. We hadn't slept for more than an hour straight in over two weeks, and I was gasping in pain every time I fed our daughter and she was crying because she was still hungry. I know breastfeeding has a learning curve, but not like this. I was devastated, but I knew my disappointment about not being able to breastfeed properly wasn't a reason to let Emma be hungry. So, I asked Nate to go to the store and get some formula.<br />
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Unfortunately, stores aren't usually open on Sunday afternoons in our part of France. Nate went to 5 locations before returning home empty handed. I don't know if words could really convey my disappointment in this moment- I couldn't successfully feed my child, I was in a lot of pain, and the solution I felt like I was caving into wasn't going to work either.<br />
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Thankfully, we were graced by a miracle. A friend texted me, saying she wanted to visit and see the new baby, and asked if I needed anything. In my mind, I thought, "No. Unless you can give me a new body, there's not much anyone can do!" But instead I texted back and asked if she knew anywhere that sold formula that would be open. She didn't, but she said she'd ask friends. Within a half hour, we had an unopened can of newborn formula- the exact kind we needed. One of her friends just happened to have it on hand and no longer needed it as her babies were past that stage. Well played, God, well played. We made her a bottle, she drank the entire thing, slept for 4 hours straight, and woke up smiling. Quite the contrast to before.<br />
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Similar to Emma's birth, I really wanted feeding her to be completely natural. In college, I wrote multiple papers on the benefits of breastfeeding for my health classes and have always been a big supporter of it. However, for my situation, formula is the current solution. I've been doing my best to give her as much natural milk as possible, but she needs more for her little tummy to be satisfied. I'm hopeful that in time, I'll be able to go back to exclusive breast milk. In the mean time, formula is keeping my little girl fed and healthy. It's actually been amazing to see how much happier she is now that she's completely fed! <br />
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I feel like in my short three weeks of motherhood, I've learned some pretty poignant lessons about not passing judgement and asking for help- unfortunately the hard way. Epidurals and formula are not for moms just looking for the easy way out or who don't believe in their bodies. First, I don't think there is an easy way out with motherhood. But second, there are times when those things are necessary, and I'm grateful to have access to them! As for getting help, our prayers are often answered through other people. I just have to take that bite of humble pie and ask. <br />
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It's not what I expected or wanted, but it is working, and it's what's best for our baby. I can't ask more than that. And we sure do love our little sugar!<br />
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Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-74908329368301401502016-01-30T12:19:00.001-08:002016-01-30T12:33:14.831-08:00And Here We AreOne of my favorite questions to ask Nate is, "If someone came up to you X number of years ago and told you this is how your life would be now, what would you think?" It's probably my favorite because Nate always says he would have been ecstatic that we ended up married, and, in fact, he still is. Always reassuring to know your spouse is glad to be together. :)<br />
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When asked the same question, I always think I would have breathed a huge sigh of relief and congratulated myself on making at least one really good decision. I often can't believe how fortunate I am to be married to Nate. In the two years we've been married, I think we've crammed as many intense life experiences as the timeline would allow. However, the more changes we experience, the more in love I am and the more I can't believe how lucky I am. I married someone with an immense capacity to weather the storm and love me along the way- maybe those two are the same thing? <br />
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I also like to look at our wedding/engagement pictures and think, "Wow, you two have no idea what you're in for." I'm sure I'll think the same 5, 10, 50 years from now... but to be fair, 4 moves, new jobs, new countries, and a nice little brain surgery is a lot for two years. (And that's only the stuff that's light-hearted enough to blog about)<br />
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Like any good and thorough change, it turns out a successful marriage is hard fought. Or I guess it is for us. It's how we chose it, and I often think about the process of making steel when I think about the progress Nate and I have made since being married. (Again- I know we have more lessons to learn, but we've come pretty far!) To make steel, iron is heated and refined until all the impurities are gone, resulting in a clean and super strong metal. Marriage has taught me more about myself and others (specifically my husband, of course) than any other experience- it's been refining, and I often think about how it's helping us toward a partnership and life of steel. I love looking at the wedding pictures and also thinking, "Wow, you two have no idea how much more you'll love and understand each other in the future." <br />
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Moving to France has been just another stepping stone in the steel making process. I love the friends we've made, all the cool things we've seen (and posting fun instagram/facebook pictures), and we don't regret it one bit. However, being here has been really difficult. It's nothing out of the ordinary- it just turns out that going from employee to student, citizen to visitor, and native speaker to the comprehension of a 3 year old are all hard adjustments. But we're doing it (with a lot of help, mind you) and I honestly cannot imagine doing it without Nate. Our steel marriage is sustaining us. :)<br />
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Back to the idea of going back in time, one of the first times (it took several) I knew Nate was someone I should take more seriously was in the restroom of La Jolla Groves during a mid-date break.<br />
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As background, I would take a mid-date break on pretty much every date I went on before getting married, usually under the guise of needing to use the restroom. I've spent many a 5 minute self session in front of bathroom mirrors, seeing my reflection and knowing the truth about the date. Sometimes it was the realization that I was trying too hard- as great as the guy was, things really just weren't clicking, and I unfortunately couldn't force it. Sometimes it was the reverse- this guy was super nice, but I was not there, and I was savoring my break time. Either way, my self time was often the sad realization of something not fitting, again.<br />
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However, I can distinctly remember the break I took the first time Nate and I went out. Maybe it's because the restaurant had fancy bathrooms- you know, the gold handles and back-lit mirrors with marble counters. Looking in the mirror that night was awesome because I felt like I was living the high life. But it was also the first time where I thought, "Yeah, there's nothing wrong with this picture. I could totally be Nate Parkin's girl, and I'm not wishing there was something different about me or him to make tonight better. It's fine how it is. I think I'll freshen up and get back to the date now." Everything about the evening had been pleasant. It was well-paced, conversation was interesting but not forced, and for the first time, my break time was re-affirming instead of dismaying. <br />
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We continued to go on dates, and proceeded to break up and get back together a few more times before getting married, but I always came back to that feeling- things with Nate just fit. And in our refining moments, it's something I still come back to- it fits, and there's no one else I'd rather be on this journey with.<br />
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So I guess in conclusion, I knew Nate and I were a good match because of a fancy restroom... and other self-evaluation, soul searching moments. But, if I could go back in time to that first bathroom break and tell myself how the next few years would go, I think the 24 year old me would have said, "Sounds good!" And I would be right- it is good, and the outlook is good too.<br />
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Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-72091131938492559182015-12-01T09:32:00.000-08:002015-12-10T03:08:06.365-08:00'Tis the SeasonI felt like sharing some good things that have been on my mind, because hey, who doesn't like things that are nice?<br />
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This is from <a href="https://www.lds.org/ensign/2015/12/be-at-peace?lang=eng">an article</a> by D. Todd Christofferson:<br />
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<i>"Some years ago I heard a radio interview featuring Bishop Desmond Tutu, the Anglican archbishop in South Africa. He had just published a book with daughter about the reconciliation that had taken place in South Africa following apartheid. Basically, the book's message is that there is good in all people.
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<i>During the interview the host asked a perceptive, inspired question of Bishop Tutu: "Have you found that your relationship to God has changed as you've grown older?"</i><br />
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<i>Bishop Tutu paused and then said, "Yes. I am learning to shut up more in the presence of God."</i><br />
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<i>He recalled that when he prayed in his earlier years, he did so with a list of requests and solicitudes. He would approach heaven with what he called "a kind of shopping list." But now, he said, "I think [I am] trying to grow in just being there. Like when you sit in front of a fire in winter, you are just there in front of the fire, and you don't have to be smart or anything. The fire warms you."</i><br />
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<i>I think that is a lovely metaphor-- just sit with the Lord and let Him warm you like a fire in winter. You don't have to be perfect or the greatest person who ever graced the earth or the best of anything to be with Him."</i><br />
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And, here's a little story that's been on my mind recently-<br />
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This past summer, during a rather difficult time on one of our trips, I needed a place to be alone and found some solace in a quiet corner of our hotel.<br />
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After a while, an older man showed up. It was clear he also liked this spot, and he was planning to have some study there. He approached, we made small talk about what a good find the spot was, and I mentioned I was about to leave anyway. As I walked towards the elevator, he asked, "Are you alright?'<br />
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Cue insta-tears. "Well, not really."<br />
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He invited me to sit back down, and said if I felt like sharing, he would listen. I explained a few details, and mostly sat there crying while he patted my hand. He then said, "You know, I'm not really a good Christian, or even a good man, but maybe I can pray for you?"<br />
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I nodded, and he offered this prayer: "Dear God, I'm sorry I'm not a good Christian. However, Caitlan here is having a hard time, and it's confusing because things seem bad but we know that you're good. Help us to understand. Thank you Lord, Amen."<br />
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We talked for a few minutes more, and then I returned to my hotel room.<br />
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It was a fairly simple experience, but I don't think this man realized how many prayers he answered for me that day. More than just the situation at hand, it was nice to feel that I was remembered and noticed. It was also impressive to me that he didn't need to feel like "a good Christian" to be kind to me or even pray aloud for me. It was just a simple, authentic gesture of kindness, and it was his best idea at the time. To be honest, it spoke volumes about the kind of good person he really was, and the experience helped me immensely.<br />
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So, here's to spreading some love, and Merry Christmas. And here's to you, old man in the hotel, I hope your life is treating you well.Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-85114898186273290082015-11-07T11:31:00.001-08:002015-11-07T11:31:28.250-08:00All the Good FeelsI didn't used to be huge into pinterest, but then I discovered I could type in things like "white linens" or "peaceful scenery" or "organized homes", and an array of the most beautiful things would appear. You can judge me for feeling calmed by a picture of perfectly folded white sheets, or you can look at it and let the fresh crispness make you feel better about everything. Snowy sunrises never hurt either.<div>
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See? It's nice.</div>
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My other favorite, and probably more legitimate than folded laundry (though it is so nice) is reading Mary Oliver poems. Like honey for the soul.</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">“Why I Wake Early </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">Hello, sun in my face.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">Hello, you who made the morning</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">and spread it over the fields</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">and into the faces of the tulips</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">and the nodding morning glories,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">and into the windows of, even, the</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">miserable and the crotchety – </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">best preacher that ever was,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">dear star, that just happens</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">to be where you are in the universe</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">to keep us from ever-darkness,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">to ease us with warm touching,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">to hold us in the great hands of light –</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">good morning, good morning, good morning.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">Watch, now, how I start the day</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal;">in happiness, in kindness.”</span></h1>
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/23988.Mary_Oliver" style="background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">Mary Oliver</a></div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-87640053153686906602015-11-05T12:23:00.000-08:002015-11-05T12:23:07.536-08:00On Being PregnantRight as I finished typing the title, I reached for a pillow and my lower back cracked in a way I didn't know was possible... seems like a good way to start this post.<br />
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I love that we are having a baby. I love that she will be my little baby, and I am really excited to meet her. A lot of people say they get a mild sense for their baby's personality while they're pregnant. Not me. Besides knowing she likes to kick and has a heartbeat, I must be missing out on that mother's intuition. I can't even guess what she'll be like. I was also sure she was a boy for the first 5 months of her existence, so... looks like I'll be getting to know this girl the old fashioned way of spending time together. But, I love imagining holding her and seeing her smile or playing games with her. I cannot wait! Also, Nate and I look enough alike, we've decided it's only genetically possible for her to be cute. That's good news.<br />
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While waiting for a baby is exciting, being pregnant is not. Here is a list of the things I daydream about when I'm not thinking about our little girl:<br />
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1. Some day my back won't randomly crack 50 times a day.<br />
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2. I won't have constant heartburn that ranges from mild to incinerator in my esophagus.<br />
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3. I will be able to lay on my stomach.<br />
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4. I will be able to sit up using my ab muscles!<br />
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5. Waddling will no longer be the easier than walking.<br />
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6. People won't stare at my stomach for uninterrupted, long amounts of time.<br />
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7. I also won't get free treats from bakeries... hm... that has been nice, actually.<br />
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8. I will be able to see my feet, eventually.<br />
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9. I may start sleeping less than 12 hours a night/day.<br />
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10. I won't have a living thing inside me. Don't get me wrong, again, I love that it's a baby. But when it's 3am and your heartburn (even though dinner was a solid 7 hours ago) kicks in and then your stomach starts doing its own set of jumping jacks, let's just say I didn't know motion sickness was possible while laying down in your bed, but it is. Not to mention that I usually have to go to the bathroom as well.<br />
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Here's to 3 more months!<br />
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<br />Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-63494467490056416872015-10-09T02:03:00.000-07:002015-10-09T02:03:44.709-07:00Just Be NiceI saw a Facebook thread where a woman commented that no amount of traveling or reading could every compensate for her cultural and mental blind spots. Whatever she did to educate herself, she would always have the option of going home to her middle class, white, American life, and would thus never truly understand what much of the world faces.<br />
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This week I read To Kill a Mockingbird, transcribed interviews for a friend researching the LGBT community within the LDS church, and received the heartbreaking news of a dear friend's miscarriage.<br />
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And so... I cried. I cried because I was sad for all of the injustice and unfairness in the world, and I cried because I am sad for my sisters and my friends who have lost their babies. Let me make this clear though- I did not cry because I am pregnant and I hope that doesn't happen to me. I did not cry because I am straight and white and I see these situations through the lens of "I wish other people had it as good as I do, I'm so lucky." I cried because I am sad. Racism is sad. Being part of community whose underlying message to you is often, "We hope you change!" is sad. Losing a child is extremely sad.<br />
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And then I felt stupid for feeling depressed. Memories of what were probably innocent comments ran through my mind. "Oh yes, so difficult for you to be straight, Caitlan," "Your white ways won't cut it here, Princess." "I don't want to hear about you being pregnant, we all know it's going just fine for you." "Wow, it must be so hard to marry someone successful," and a slew of other comments that re-frame any sadness I had as a sort of superiority masquerading as pity. "It's not like that!" I wanted to shout, "I'm sad because I'm a person!"<br />
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However, while those comments are isolating and hurtful, I can easily think of times when I have made similar comments to people, not thinking of what it feels like to hear them. I think somehow I've justified them as, "They know I'm joking, they know I'm happy for them." or, if I am bitter towards them, "What should my comment matter? They have what we both wanted."<br />
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My own hypocrisy was made clear when three new leaders were appointed to general authority in my church. I groaned as it was more of the same- 3 successful white men from Utah. AGAIN. "This doesn't help," I thought, as I remembered the dozens of experiences I had a missionary, promising that it really was a worldwide church meant for everyone, even if I or the leadership didn't show it.<br />
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As soon as I breathed out, "Oh brother," I remembered all the sadness I had been feeling lately because I felt like no one thought I was capable of empathy. Because all my thoughts and experiences were somehow negated by my privilege. As if I had nothing worthwhile to contribute because of my sheltered ignorance.<br />
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These men didn't ask for their positions. Yes, I do wish it was someone from outside the US. I wish it was someone homosexual or female, to be totally honest. But, I also know how it feels to be put in leadership and have those you thought would be supportive end up turning on you. Who knows what perspectives they may have? Or, they may be perfectly aware of their blind spots, and they're not going to pretend they don't have them. Maybe they hate themselves for their ignorance just as much as you do, or maybe they go against their stereotypes. What I'm saying is these men still deserve to be supported. Prejudice is still prejudice when it's applied to a rich white male.<br />
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I don't know what the main message I'm getting at is, because I do know there's a lot I don't understand and never will. People have rolled their eyes at me my whole life, and I can't say it's never warranted. I've also read and seen enough to know that sometimes, the rich white male is not so innocent. But, I do think it's important to remember that for the most part, people are doing their best, and not every stroke of good fortune is meant as an attack or used as an excuse to look down on others.Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-69742341090973881462015-09-27T13:34:00.004-07:002015-09-27T13:34:58.373-07:00France and Baby: This week in pictures<br />
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<i>Bonjour from Grenoble!</i></div>
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Oh the desserts. They will be the [happy] death of me. Here we have panna cotta with raspberry sauce and an assortment of gelatos- pear, lemon, and passionfruit. The pear was so good!</div>
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Halfway there! She's almost up to a pound now. Funny thing about this little lady- she only kicks if there's something against my stomach. Perhaps she feels strongly about personal space? Also, French people aren't very discreet about wondering if I'm pregnant or just fat... this usually manifests itself in confused and slightly disgusted, and lengthy, stares. Oh well. </div>
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We are surrounded by mountains! The next few are just some snapshots from the walk to Nate's school.</div>
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.Ok so this is mostly the bridge, but check out that mountain in the background!</div>
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So beautiful!</div>
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Friday night we took a little trip in these glass "bubbles" to the bastille in Grenoble.</div>
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The shadow of our bubbles before we went over the river.</div>
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The trip was a little scary, but it led to a great view!</div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-83845297010819224162015-08-15T11:00:00.002-07:002015-08-15T11:07:16.154-07:00All Because One Ginger Wanted a PhD #vivelafranceWe are moving to France! We leave in about 3 weeks, and we'll be there for about 4-5 years.<br />
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It is crazy. While I am really excited, I am also terrified. When we made the decision a few months ago (see future choices flow chart below), it sounded so romantic to live in France. We'll be in Grenoble, which is about 3 hours from Switzerland and 3 hours from Italy. I daydreamed about how neat it would be to be immersed in another culture (not to mention eat their food..) and basically just experience more of what life has to offer. See the Alps, visit Chateaus on the weekend.. you know, normal life.<br />
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However, in the months that followed, it has been more about documents and travel arrangements than searching out the best baguettes. Then there was that whole "Let's have a baby" to make it even cooler. (I just keep reminding myself that women have been giving birth since the dawn of time, so it can't be <i>that</i> bad... right? Don't answer that.) So, needless to say, it's been a bit hectic, but we are getting there.<br />
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So, here are some fun details:<br />
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Nate will be getting his PhD in Business Marketing. Aka homework and research for life. He is specifically interested in cognitive behavior- ie what makes an advertisement appealing and why, what are the factors in consumer behavior, etc.<br />
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His program will be in English. If Nate wanted to, he could go through the program and never learn any French. However, life will be in French for me, so I'll be digging up those notes from high school pretty soon.<br />
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Once he finishes, Nate plans to go into academia. We don't have a university in mind where we'd like to go, and a lot of opportunities can present themselves in 4 years, so we'll see. He's also interested in entrepreneurship and consulting. It is an open road.<br />
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Ginger Baby will not be a French citizen. In fact, I don't know what Ginger Baby will be. I guess we'll get something sorted when we come back to the US. In any event, French citizenship is not just granted because you were born there. You have to be born and then stay until 18. You have to mean it.<br />
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*Side note on Ginger Baby- we find out the sex on 9/4. Stay tuned!<br />
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As for what I'll be doing, I am in the process of growing a human. I'll stay home with the baby for the first few months, and then we'll just see what kind of balance evolves. I'm certified to teach English as a second language, and so I may tutor for a bit on the side while Ginger Baby is little. Once the baby is older, I may start teaching classes as well. It will be interesting to see what works. Another option is pursuing a Masters, but again, how things go with Ginger Baby will be the largest determinant in what I do. Career wise, my main goal is to become a Social Studies teacher. Life wise, my main goal is to be a good wife and mother. I feel strongly about both, so here's to creating that timeline and finding the balance.<br />
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Our visits to the US will be minimal, if at all. An international flight with a toddler is a situation where no one wins, for starters. However, visitors are totally welcome! I can't guarantee a place to stay, but AirBnB has some great deals nearby!<br />
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Speaking of, we'll be living in an AirBnB place for our first week or so there. Despite our best efforts to secure an apartment before arriving, being on another continent is just too far away to make arrangements. So, it should be fun. And by that I mean that I hope it's fun. <br />
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So, here we go! Vive la France!<br />
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<br />Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-26406685155779804582015-07-21T20:20:00.000-07:002015-07-21T20:20:38.308-07:00All Because Two Gingers Fell In Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We are having a ginger baby! Well, at least we're pretty sure he or she will be a ginger. But, we are positive he or she will be a baby. We've had one ultrasound (which honestly looked more like an alien... or, as affectionately called by my Minecraft playing friends, the zombie creeper baby) and last week, we heard the heartbeat. So far, everything points to human!<br />
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Pregnancy is basically zero fun. While my mind and heart are excited for the baby, my body is having a sort of mutiny. So, so it goes. Three months down, six or seven to go. I've made it so far, and I feel entitled to all sorts of awards. Also, while I've always disagreed with gender inequality, pregnancy fuels my feminism even further. How could anyone say a woman is weak when she is literally sick for 9 months straight, and then expels a human with her own body?! ... More on that later. Back to the baby.<br />
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The baby is due late January/early February. I read an article somewhere about having a "due month" instead of a due date, and that seems to make more sense to me. Sometime in winter, there will be a little ginger.<br />
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Fun fact- the baby is currently the size of a lime, and we'll find out the gender in roughly a month.<br />
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I had wanted to keep it secret longer, but increasing winks and sideways glances from the Nosy Nelly's at church leave me no choice. The word is out- a ginger baby is on its way. :) Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-50202269199302604942015-05-20T11:13:00.000-07:002015-05-20T11:16:26.984-07:00Finding Friends through MemoirsOne of the things I love about reading, especially in first person narratives, is feeling like I know the author. It's like making a new friend. I read their experiences and go through it with them, and I get to see things from their perspective. It's no secret that reading expands your world view- I'm just saying I really like it. (Maybe especially since I took a one year hiatus from reading after graduating college. It just wasn't fun anymore)<br />
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A rather powerful book I read recently was<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Was-Me-All-Along-Memoir-ebook/dp/B00LDQOZYC/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1432145528&sr=1-1&keywords=it+was+me+all+along"> It Was Me All Along</a>. The author takes her reader on her journey through a food addiction and the emotions that spurred it. It is organic and vulnerable, and at times shockingly easy to relate to. As someone who has been both the fat kid and the skinny kid and channeled my emotions into both, I essentially appreciated that the struggle is real. Food issues or not, I recommend it to anyone because we all experience suffering in one form or another.<br />
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The other book I'm reading is <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/Bringing_Up_B%C3%A9b%C3%A9.html?id=Og6kwSDmOxQC&hl=en">Bringing Up Bebe</a>. As a short anecdote, Nate saw the receipt for this come through our Amazon account and thought it was a passive pregnancy announcement (the full title is Bringing Up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting). I reassured him of two things- I am not pregnant, and, if I was, I would not leave his finding out to a notification from an online vendor. Some things you just have to stand by. <br />
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Anyway, I love this book. In a very practical sense, she discusses how to teach an infant early on to sleep through the night, eat their vegetables, and be polite. (Maybe I still need to learn those things?) She also offers a commentary on American habits and social needs in contrast to the French. It sounds like we all need to be a little more French, to be honest. In a relative sense, they live calm lives with set boundaries, and maintain a strong sense of self even after having children. I don't have children, but when I do, I think I'll try out some of the French ideologies! But, kids or not, I recommend it to anyone because it taught me a lot about leadership and communication in general.<br />
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So, those are my new friends. Read away. :)<br />
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<br />Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-82842467635049456002015-01-07T22:27:00.004-08:002015-01-07T22:27:43.416-08:002014: Personal Bests and How To'sI've been trying to decide how to best commemorate 2014- it was, after all, quite the year. A week later than everyone else, I finally decided on a list of the best things I figured out. Here goes.<br />
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<u><b>#1 Personal Best:</b></u> This spot belongs to none other than the perfect husband, Nate Parkin. Marrying him was easily the best thing I figured out. Our one year anniversary is in a few weeks, so look forward to a post all about that, but let's just say I basically won the lottery. He is the best.<br />
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<b><u>#2 How To:</u></b> This year I began my process of successfully navigating happy hours with friends/coworkers. I branched out from my usual virgin Pina Colada and can now add virgin Mojitos and Margaritas to the list! My goal is to someday order a drink <i>without</i> explaining to the waiter, "Well you see I don't drink and I never have, but could you just tell me if any of these can be made without alcohol? Yes, thank you- make sure it's virgin!"<br />
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<b><u>#3 How To:</u></b> I should receive some sort of certification for this, but here's a how to for taking a spouse or significant other/family member to the ER and/or ICU:<br />
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<li><b>Bring snacks.</b> You will be there forever, you will get hungry, and there's just no good way to say, "Excuse me nurse, I know my husband has a serious medical condition right now and is practically unconscious because of the pain and/or medicine, but is there any way you could grab me a granola bar? I've been here since 3am and it's now past noon..."</li>
<li><b>Bring a book.</b> Similar to above- you are going to be there forever, and your person may not always be conscious or even in the same room.</li>
<li><b>Wear comfortable clothes</b>, and bring some face wash and deodorant. It could be a while before you feel comfortable going anywhere, and it's nice to know you at least smell ok.</li>
<li><b>Emotionally prepare yourself. </b>Call me a terrible person, but it turns out it is extremely normal and common to become frustrated (and even a little resentful) when a significant other needs intensive medical care. I can't explain it, but for some reason I was often tempted to act like a 3 year old and be mad that Nate was getting all the attention, that he had so many needs, and I was sleeping on stiff cot. Luckily a trusted source had warned me of this, and I coped a little better.</li>
<li><b>Be nice to the nurses. </b>This will result in extra blankets, applesauce, and the use of their exclusive fridge.</li>
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<b>#4 Personal Best: </b>I found some fantastic recipes this year. I will only list the ones I've made 10+ times, and trust me- they are keepers!</div>
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<a href="http://www.barefeetinthekitchen.com/2011/09/rosemary-bread-with-whole-wheat.html">Rosemary Bread with Whole Wheat</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.barefeetinthekitchen.com/2011/07/whole-wheat-tortillas.html">Whole Wheat Tortillas</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.twopeasandtheirpod.com/grilled-zucchini-and-corn-tostadas/">Grilled Zucchini and Corn Tostadas</a></div>
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<a href="http://damndelicious.net/2014/06/21/baked-parmesan-zucchini/">Baked Parmesan Zucchini</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.onceuponachef.com/2009/11/roasted-brussels-sprouts.html">Roasted Brussel Sprouts</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.twopeasandtheirpod.com/lemon-orzo-salad-with-asparagus-spinach-and-feta/">Lemon Orzo Salad with Spinach and Asparagus</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.twopeasandtheirpod.com/recipe-for-cinnamon-rolls/">Cinnamon Rolls</a></div>
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<a href="http://theviewfromgreatisland.com/2013/12/maple-oat-nut-scones.html">Maple Walnut Scones</a></div>
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<u><b>#5 How To:</b></u> Since the demise of my car Legolas and since working downtown, I've become quite acquainted with riding the bus. My best tips are to use Google Maps in conjunction with the app OneBusAway, and you are sure to at least know where the bus should have been. Patience is another good thing to have. Also don't talk to anyone, depending on what part of town the bus goes through.</div>
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<b>#6 Personal Best:</b> I had and have a lot of religious questions, but <a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/mosiah/4.9?lang=eng#8">this</a> will always be one of my best verses: <span style="background-color: #f9f6ed; color: #777777; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Believe in God ; believe that he is, and that he created all things, both in heaven and in earth; believe that he has all wisdom , and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend. </span></div>
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Thanks 2014- it was a refining year and the start of an entirely new life. Here's to more!</div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-17872440955054584972014-11-23T20:44:00.001-08:002014-11-23T20:51:20.909-08:00True Gift GivingWhenever I think of gifts, I am reminded of a paper I read for one of my theory classes a few years ago at BYU. It was in Stan Knapp's class, and we were reading a paper by Zygmunt Bauman (how he scored that name, I'd like to know) about gifts versus exchanges.<br />
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This really was one of those life changing moments for me in college, and however little money a sociology major will make me, it did make me think. The paper, as mentioned, discussed the difference between gifts and exchanges, and our professor challenged us to discover an example of a true gift. Harder than you think, because when we give a gift, we're often still hoping for a thank you or at least the good feeling that we helped someone. According to Bauman, if you give something with the hopes of any sort of return, it is an exchange and not a gift. This isn't to say exchanges are bad or shouldn't be motivators for giving, but for me it was a sort of wake up call that I wasn't actually on the fast track to Mother Theresa.</div>
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It made me wonder if I've ever given a true gift in my life, at least according to Bauman. Every so often I'll try to do something anonymously and tell myself I'm not going to say anything about it to anyone. Sometimes I make it, but often times I'm still looking for my end of the deal- that someone will know I did something good and tell me I'm a good person. This goes for service too. So often, when someone is having hard time, I find myself thinking of how I want to help.<u> <i>I</i></u> want to make them cookies, <u><i>I</i></u> want to hear the drawn out story, and <u><i>I</i></u> want them to thank me for being there for them. But then if I do that, who is it really about? Unless they are my kindred spirit and love eating their feelings while also discussing them, it's about me.</div>
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This lesson was ever more powerful when Nate had his brain surgery, and I was the one that needed help. I kept communication with others (minus a few poor listeners) fairly positive and optimistic. Why? Because I didn't want anyone to commiserate with me unless I felt like they were actually doing it to help me, and not just to feel like they "reached out to that girl in need." Call it selfish, or maybe sleep deprived and emotionally exhausted, but when you feel like enough things are being taken from you anyway, the last thing you want to do is give simply to satiate another person's curiosity. Even if it's just giving an answer to, "How are you?" Or I guess that's how it was for me. </div>
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It was a time that I really appreciated what the "true gifts" were for the time- help with absolutely no expectation of return. Help where no one would ask questions or want me to spend time with them, help where people would understand if I took the gift and didn't smile back. And, to speak of the goodness of many of our friends, that is exactly what we received. Loving texts and messages that didn't expect a reply, food dropped off without a need for thanks, and several significant acts of service without a moment's hesitation. My gratitude for them is deep.</div>
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For me, the experience is a reference point for situations when others need help. There was so much I just didn't need, and I have to remember that for others. Instead of calling them up right away, I will think, "Wait- am I calling because I am sad and I want to experience that emotion, or am I calling because I sincerely think this person wants a phone call right now?" </div>
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It's a tough question to ask yourself, and there's no one answer for every situation. And I'm not saying we shouldn't help people. I know for myself, sometimes I need people to keep asking how I'm doing, and sometimes I don't. It's basically crazy. But, I do think we'll never regret taking more time to think about what someone truly needs instead of just what we want to give them, or even what we want them to give us (details, time, etc.) </div>
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Coming back full circle to tangible gifts, and on a way lighter note, I got Nate the coolest Christmas present ever. It is mildly selfish because I loved buying it and I know he will think I'm the best wife ever. So, I guess it's for both of us. ;) </div>
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Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-58904895189358299342014-11-20T17:08:00.000-08:002014-11-20T17:25:33.829-08:00Mormon 101: So... horse and buggy, is that you?So first off, my job is stressful and laid back at the same time. In our little neighborhood of desks, we all have a million people to answer to and email and organize, and we're never short of a crazy situation. But, somehow we always find ways to chat. We chat about all sorts of things, but fairly regularly, these chats turn to what I like to call Mormon 101.<br />
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I'm not sure if it's because I like to talk about it or people like to ask, but I talk about being Mormon like it's my job. (But it's not- my job is to email people, as mentioned above) I don't talk about it in the "I'm Mormon and you should too" way. I feel like I do more dispelling or confirming rumors, and then I try to smile and nod when coworkers tell drinking stories and I don't have the slightest idea of what they're talking about. The combination makes me feel a little like a zoo animal- both experiencing and observing a different world than those around you, even though you're technically in the same place. Or maybe I'm just an oddball and being Mormon has nothing to do with it.</div>
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There are some funny things said though. The quote in the title came yesterday from a friend at work. He wanted his daily dose of Mormon 101, and came up to my desk, and in all sincerity, asked if I used a horse and buggy. It was my pleasure to inform him that in fact, I used cars, buses, and airplanes for transportation.This is the same person that asked if a Mormon's future held any promise if they didn't go to BYU. I answered that we were shunned and had no chance of work. After a few moments of silence, I also let him know that we could apply to any other college and still succeed in life and in the church.</div>
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I should be more careful with my half-truths, but sometimes it is too difficult to resist. My friend saw some missionaries at the store on Monday, and he asked me why they were all there together, wondering if it held some significance. Before explaining that missionaries have a fairly regimented schedule and Monday is their day to prepare for the rest of the week, I indulged. I told him that it was a mandate for all Mormons to go to the store on Monday afternoons, and I was sacrificing by still being at work. Ah, the look on his face. Hey, if people already think you're crazy, you might as well roll with it. </div>
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To be sure, most of my Mormon 101 conversations are more sincere than the aforementioned (I often tell the truth about my church as well ;) ) and they are not one sided. I've learned a lot about others' faiths and just lifestyles, and it's been great. We talk about the good and the bad, and everybody learns. I can just <i>feel</i> my mind expanding and becoming less ethnocentric. :) That's another topic for another day, but I will say moving to Washington has given me a healthy dose of "Caitlan doesn't know everything" and it's been good :)</div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-80174577239286282202014-09-27T08:53:00.002-07:002014-09-27T08:53:56.961-07:00A Book I Think Everyone Should ReadI will always struggle with what should be capitalized in a title and what shouldn't... please give me the grammar rule in the comments if you know.<br />
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Anyway, I've been reading this book at the recommendation of one of my best friends:<br />
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And I have no reservation in saying that it is changing my life. Unfortunately/fortunately, I'm having a lot of, "Oh wow, I need to get my act together" moments, and it is for the best. I think one of my biggest lessons is calling myself out on how often I justify thinking of or treating others poorly. It's been very eye opening.<br />
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One of the core ideas of the book is having a heart at peace versus having a heart at war. A heart at peace allows us to have peace within and towards others, while a heart at war reflects inner conflict and mistreatment of others. I guess what has been profound for me is realizing that what I thought was a totally justified way of seeing others is actually an indication of my own inner conflict. It's hard to swallow, but it does make sense.<br />
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Anyway, I highly recommend it. It's maybe 200 pages and will only make you want to be better. It's not religious, but does fall in line with the basic principles of treating others and yourself well, which I always support. :)Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-57701287360386549012014-09-21T21:34:00.001-07:002014-09-21T21:34:48.650-07:00Moving OnEvery time I look at my blog, I see "RIP Little Car" and "Nate's Brain Surgery," and I keep thinking, "Ok... it's really time to move on."<br />
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Our summer was definitely the most... life threatening? Dramatic? <i>Expensive</i>? that I've had in a while, or that I've ever had really. But, life goes on. We still have to do laundry, we still have to pay utilities, and dang it, we still have to go to church.<br />
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Though trials definitely make me resent normal routines, I also think there is comfort in things being "normal." I remember wanting everything to just stop while I had my grieving moments during Nate's stay in the ICU, but I also remember coming home in the mornings and just needing to fold clothes or do my makeup because those things were still the same. I could control them, and they hadn't been phased by life's recent events. When you're worried your life might fall apart, it's nice to just do the dishes sometimes. (Spoken like a true housewife, I know)<br />
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And eventually, things got back to normal. Nate is totally healed from the brain surgery, and his hair is thick enough to cover the scar. We're figuring out the one car adventure and I'm getting my daily entertainment by riding the bus (last week a man was cradling his backpack and singing it a lullaby) We have our seemingly mounting church responsibilities, but we're doing it and I like to think we're making a positive impact.<br />
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Nate and I also celebrated our 8-monthiversary and one year mark of our being engaged this weekend. It's funny I thought I knew him or even really loved him a year ago. Our marriage has seen the normal newlywed struggles and then some, and thus our relationship definitely has dimension it did not have 8 months or a year ago. I've come love him deeper and better, and I'm just grateful I was smart enough to say yes. We've seen lots of things together, and it turns out Nate is a good adventure buddy. :)<br />
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<i>Here's to strength!</i></div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-76065802247292791052014-07-31T11:24:00.002-07:002014-07-31T11:26:37.479-07:00RIP Little CarSo, Legolas is totaled. No more blue Corolla with the bluetooth and touch screen radio and zero acceleration. You can read more about the accident <a href="http://lifeofcaitlan.blogspot.com/2014/07/dear-july-you-may-have-won-battle-but.html">here</a> , but yeah, Legolas is gone.<br />
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He was a good car, and I feel a little sad thinking about it being gone. It's like getting rid of a pair of old running shoes. I usually get my thinking/feeling time in while driving or running, so when a car or pair of shoes has to go, it's like saying goodbye to that segment of my life as well. Time to move on, I suppose.<br />
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Goodbye Legolas. Mostly goodbye to all the loud music I listened to in that car. It was my first car with a halfway decent sound system, so I think I had blown the speakers (They were starting to crackle...). I guess at least I got my use out of the car in some way! It was a good time, and he will be missed. RIP little car- or I guess more accurately- may your parts be sold to good dealers.<br />
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<i>The Glory Days</i></div>
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Well, on to the next chapter. I will now be learning how to drive stick shift so Nate and I can share his car. Here we go!</div>
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<br />Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-30097081796291207172014-07-26T10:48:00.002-07:002014-07-26T10:48:23.005-07:00Dear July: You may have won the battle, but not the war.Somewhere along the lines, I must have done something very frustrating to the month of July. That is all I can think to explain a random brain surgery and a car accident mere hours after Nate leaves for California.<br />
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<b>The Short Version:</b><br />
The accident was totally my fault. I was trying to get back to the freeway in a city I had never been in before, and was distracted by trying to figure out what my GPS was saying/where I was. As I came to a light, everyone in the lanes next to me was moving and the intersection was clear, so I just kept going. Turns out the light was red, and oncoming traffic was headed my way. A lady hit the front of my car on the driver's side, and then she fled the scene. I got off with a warning instead of a ticket (lucky, to say the least) and my insurance only has to take care of me instead of her as well.<br />
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I am fine. My neck and shoulders are sore, but that's pretty much old hat to me now because of how many accidents I've been in. Just another round of chiropractic care and some massage therapy. My car will be in the shop for about a month, and I will drive a fancy rental. And by fancy I mean newer model of the Toyota Corrolla.<br />
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<b>The Details:</b><br />
I think accidents are worse when they're you're fault, because then it's not just the shock and scariness of an accident. It's also the disbelief of how stupid you were in that instance.<br />
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I've replayed the situation about a million times in my head- glancing at my phone, looking back at the road and assuming it was my turn, only to suddenly be hit and hear that terrible sound of another car hitting mine. I didn't even know what had happened until I got out of the car and the other woman said, "Are you F*ing kidding me?! You ran a red light!" I stared at her, dumb founded, and didn't say anything, because: A) I didn't know I had run the light and so B) the accident was totally my fault and thus C) she had every reason in the world to be furious with me. I just stood there as she walked past to me to the gas station nearby (never to return, as we later discovered) and tried to piece together what had happened.<br />
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They towed both the cars away (neither could be driven at this point) and our friend Brock came and picked me up and took me home. I was still too shocked by the whole thing to have any real response, so I was feeling pretty good and just prepared myself to live with the consequences.<br />
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The next day, however, was a little less manageable. I was on the phone for the good part of the morning with the insurance, the towing yard, the mechanics, and the medical adjuster. I will say this for Geico- they have been great to work with, and even had someone come pick me up to go get a rental car. Geico covers me having a rental for up to 30 days. (which, it turns out, is fortunate because my car is going to take about a month to repair.)<br />
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After I got the rental, I went to the mechanic where my car was. This was probably the weirdest part of the whole experience. I could have sworn my car wasn't as damaged as it was when I got to the shop. It was a very odd feeling of realizing that this was actually a pretty bad accident, and I was lucky to be alive- never mind not seriously injured. As I looked at my car and saw all the scratches and chunks taken out of the metal, I was filled with a deep sense that I had absolutely been spared. If she had hit me a millisecond later I would not have been so lucky. You'll notice the now concave tire. That could have been me.<br />
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And it was my fault. Like this accident was a total consequence of me being distracted, and yet I escaped punishment in a lot of ways. (Not that I should be grateful the woman was clearly some sort of criminal since she didn't stay on the scene, but... it does help me a lot. Maybe God was trying to teach her a lesson? Who knows)<br />
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This weird feeling was only increased as I looked at the inside of my car. From the inside, everything looks completely normal- no dents or scratches anywhere. And it was really weird to see remnants of my normal life when outside the car was totally not normal. I'm trying to describe it, but it was just very odd to see things like grocery lists, receipts, and sunglasses inside the car when outside the car was practically a near death experience.<br />
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<b>The Pictures. Yikes.</b><br />
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This is all I can deduce: Nate had random brain surgery, and we were blessed in so many ways I don't think I could ever say there isn't a God. I get in a crazy accident that was my fault, and I walk away with sore shoulders at worst. Either July has it out for us, or God is trying to tell us that whatever happens here on earth, He's still bigger than it and can soften the blow. Who's to say, but Nate and I are still alive and kicking, so here's to life. </div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-46548261327482753802014-07-23T14:55:00.001-07:002014-07-23T15:14:26.494-07:00Running Journal #1I decided to start keeping a running journal on my blog. The hope is that it will create some accountability for me and give me a chance to talk about one of my favorite things. My guess is that no one cares, but the idea that an ambiguous someone might is probably enough to keep me running regularly, and that is the goal.<br />
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Today was a solid 4.5 miles. In the pouring rain. I entertained myself by making up songs in my head about how hardcore I was while also telling myself I was the best. I don't possess either of those traits, but the self motivation did help me run several hills.<br />
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My goal was to run to the temple. I was sopping wet once I got there and thought about how there could probably be a conference talk about it. You know- reaching the temple no matter the odds. However, I was in no place to go inside temple since I was in my wet and dirty running clothes. Better pick a different analogy.<br />
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The other fun aspect of this run is that my toenail will likely come off. My second toe on my right foot has lost its toenail multiple times. It's only this toe, and, gross as it is, I get a certain sense of satisfaction whenever it falls off. It's like a rite of passage into being a hardcore runner or something. Anyway, last night I broke the rod that holds up our towels (I was trying to put too many towels on it) and one of the posts landed on my special-volatile-toenail toe. So, between that and the longer run, I can expect a naked toe by the end of the week. Unfortunately this is exciting to no one but me.<br />
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Anyway, it was a good run, followed by a good warm shower.<br />
<br />Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-64497620030678582942014-07-21T15:26:00.004-07:002014-07-21T15:27:40.473-07:006 Month-iversaryWell, besides made up words (although I think month-iversary is catching on...) Nate and I have had quite the first six months! It has included, but is not limited to:<br />
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2 apartments<br />
2 states<br />
1 big new job (Amazon) and a few little ones (me at The Borgen Project and a brief stint at Gap)<br />
2 ER visits<br />
1 brain surgery<br />
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and... well I think I just want to end on brain surgery.<br />
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We've had quite the go, and I had started this blog with the intention of saying all of the things I've learned about marriage. Unfortunately, I'm a slow learner and wouldn't have much to say except, "Be nice," and, "Brain surgery isn't as bad as it sounds, but you should still bring a lot of chocolate."<br />
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However, I have learned more about Nate, more about myself, and more about what I love about Nate. In lieu of it being our six monthiversary, I think I'll list my six favorite things about Nate thus far.<br />
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<b><u>1.</u></b> He is affectionate, even in his sleep. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I'll reach over and grab his hand or put my arm around his waist. Without waking up, he will grab my hand back or press his arm against mine. This is also true of the early morning hours, and I think it's sweet that even when he's not awake, he still likes to snuggle!<br />
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<u><b>2</b></u>. He is very ticklish. Like, more so than a little kid. My favorite thing to do is tickle him during prayers at church- you know, when a grown man is supposed to be quiet and still. :) You know he's a good husband because he's still nice to me afterward.<br />
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<b><u>3.</u></b> He loves loves LOVES cars. We play this game whenever we drive of who can spot the Tesla (or any fancy car really- Maserati, Aston Martin, Lamborghini, etc) first, and Nate can not only spot the car by its headlights, he can also tell you the year, how the engine works, what it's all made of, and how much it cost.<br />
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<b><u>4.</u></b> He is a smarty pants. Nate loves to research things, and he loves noticing trends. I love it because I am always learning from him, and it always seems like he knows everything. Why google when I could just ask Nate? Also, linear regressions are his favorite thing. I'm beginning to think a shirt with a graph on it would be just as attractive to him as something scandalous.<br />
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<u><b>5.</b></u> He is a good cook. Nate and I have a lot of fun cooking together, trying new things, and critiquing meals as well. It's one of my favorite things we have in common, and it's nice to have a husband that can whip up something delicious.<br />
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<u><b>6.</b></u> He's got a great bod. But really- Nate is one buff guy. But, more than just a good body, I love that we do active things together. From tennis to kayaking to just going on walks, I love that we get out, and I love that Nate is always up for whatever I suggest. Not only does he think my ideas are good, but he goes along with them. :)<br />
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I love my sweet pea, and I can't imagine life any other way.<br />
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<i>We took these the night we got engaged.</i></div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-8763932784066947662014-07-09T21:20:00.001-07:002014-07-09T21:20:32.347-07:00Nate's Brain: Home FreeI feel like we are the luckiest people in the world, and I still can't believe they let us go home today. We were told that Saturday would be the day if everything went perfectly, and to consider ourselves lucky at that.<div>
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So, when I last wrote, they were challenging Nate's brain. This means they made it more difficult for the brain to rely on the catheter to pump fluid, but it was still possible. After a day of that, they decided to clamp the catheter. This would mimic what it would be like without the catheter while maintaining the security of keeping it there. Nate's brain did great. The pressure stayed at a good level, and Nate felt fine.</div>
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The nurses told us that after 24 hours of clamping the catheter, they would then take it out. Then, after 24 hours of doing well with no catheter, we would be transferred from the ICU to a regular recovery unit. We would stay there for 48 hours, and then go home. We were ok with this, and we were honestly just excited to have a timeline and some progress. </div>
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This morning, the physician's assistant came to take out the catheter. She took one look at Nate and said, "Yeah, I don't think we need to transfer you to another room or keep you overnight. I'll see what I can do to get you home today." A half hour later, she came back and said, "The surgeon said you need to go home. I told him about you doing lunges during your walks and he said to get you out of here."</div>
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It is seriously like Christmas came early. I have never been so grateful for my bed or my kitchen or just my life being more normal. Obviously we will still need to keep an eye on things, but as far as brain surgery goes, it shouldn't be too bad. </div>
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I'll probably write more later- we were the recipients of so many blessings and so much help, and we feel stronger as a couple. But for now, just know that we're home, happy, and healthy! </div>
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Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-13705902319705024852014-07-07T15:08:00.000-07:002014-07-07T15:08:05.678-07:00Nate's Brain: Good Timing and The ICU<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px;">
<span style="font-size: 12.727272033691406px;">Last Wednesday, Nate called me asking if I could pick him up early from work. His week-long headache had progressed to the point of him barely being able to function, and he needed to come home. He had taken the prescribed migraine medication, but it didn't seem to be working. Later that evening (around 3am), when Nate couldn't sleep because of the pain, our doctor (who was thankfully on call) said we needed to go to the ER. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.727272033691406px;">The doctors in the emergency room immediately performed a CT scan, discovered fluid on his brain (hydrocephalus), and then transferred us to the Neuro ICU. There, an MRI showed that Nate had a colloid cyst on his brain, creating a blockage to the ventricles in his brain. Hence the fluid build up and the pressure causing the headache. </span></div>
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A few hours later, they did an endoscopic procedure to remove the cyst- aka brain surgery. Basically, they drilled a hole in his skull and stuck a small tube through that would both break down and suck up the cyst. The surgery went well and was successful in removing the entire cyst. </div>
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Since then, he has had a catheter where the surgery took place, draining the excess fluid and blood from his brain. Until the brain can get into the habit of pumping/draining on its own, the catheter acts as a support. Nate's drainage has actually gone really well, and they're to the point of doing what's called "challenging" the brain. This means that the brain cannot rely as much on the catheter, and has to pump on its own. This is a good thing, because we don't want the catheter! Because as long as the catheter is in, we are in the ICU. </div>
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The hope is that the catheter will be removed fairly soon (crossing our fingers for tomorrow), and we will leave the ICU. That will be exciting, but unfortunately it does not mean leaving the hospital. Once the catheter is removed, Nate will still need to be monitored (though less closely than in the ICU) for a period of time.</div>
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We're not sure how long this will all take. Though everything is going well and Nate has done great, the timeline is still on a case by case basis and is only revealed a piece at a time. I joke that this is like "Choose Your Own Adventure" from Hell. There are so many factors at play and we never know exactly what's next. </div>
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The good news is this- He is doing very well and progressing quickly. Once he is recovered, he will be totally normal. He is still thinking, eating, talking, sleeping, all of the above- normally. Eventually, things really will be just fine.</div>
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We also feel extremely fortunate. Nate's best friend Brock moved up here barely a month ago with his wonderful wife Devynne, and the timing could not be better. We also have wonderful friends from church offering their help. It also helps that we just so happen to live by one of the leading neuroscience institutes- Nate's surgery was performed by one of the top neurologists around. And, my internship ended the day before this all began. Good timing- I say yes. </div>
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It is true that Nate's surgery took place when we were supposed to be flying to a family vacation. But- in my mind, it was one less thing to worry about on the way to the hospital since we already had work off.</div>
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I also feel the need to apologize for unanswered phone calls and texts. As you can imagine, this is a very busy and overwhelming time for us, and I can barely keep up with keeping immediate family updated. We are grateful for the prayers and the support, and we have been so helped. Though I am not the best at getting back to everyone, I do promise to ask for help when we need it.</div>
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I know things are going to be fine, and it's times like this when you realize how much faith in God really helps. Whatever your spiritual affiliation, we have received great strength by appealing to and relying on a higher power. It is still hard, but we're grateful for the perspective our faith allows. </div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-80404728914885340062014-06-30T22:22:00.000-07:002014-06-30T22:22:00.395-07:00Sometimes the Universe Combines Against YouI like to think of myself as someone who can keep it together. I also like to lie to myself. :)<br />
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But sometimes, I swear it is not my fault. <i>Anyone</i> would have a meltdown under the same circumstances, right? Sometimes your day just has it in for you, and you have no choice. You will cry, you will feel sorry for yourself, and you will probably buy yourself frozen yogurt. It's just how it is.<br />
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Today was such a day. It was one thing after another, and I pretty much bit my lower lip off to keep from crying at work. The frustration was compounded by the fact that I am the easiest person in the world to read. This always makes my life worse. Anyone could tell I was upset, but whenever someone asked about it, I found it difficult to make the connection between a spreadsheet and my mental breakdown credible. It was just one of those days, and the spreadsheet was the last straw.<br />
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So now everyone at work thinks I have some sort of deep emotional connection to Excel and its abilities. They could be right, but it's also true that the rest of the universe was combining against me. I couldn't fight it.Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3543799577537529166.post-55287227305882759732014-06-17T19:42:00.002-07:002014-06-17T21:07:23.012-07:00One Girl's Quest for Attention: #7 Will Leave You Speechless, and The End is a TOTAL Surprise<b><span style="font-size: large;">1.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">2.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">3.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">4.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">5.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">6.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">7.</span></b><br />
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<b>8.</b></div>
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<b>9. </b><br />
<b>10.</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The End... SURPRISE!</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/gift-box-exploding-17464367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/gift-box-exploding-17464367.jpg" height="320" width="299" /></a></div>
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This is just a commentary on all of the trending articles lately. The titles are so clever and interesting, and the pieces are always SUCH good writing.</div>
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Not. </div>
Caitlanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06496557915776109837noreply@blogger.com1