tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67072808432925018062024-02-06T22:13:37.191-06:00The Daily LifeWe ARE interesting. We promise.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.comBlogger310125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-23792705895276054782014-04-26T14:40:00.002-05:002014-04-26T14:40:45.578-05:00The Maggie Files<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This precious little darling is Maggie.<br />
She was born after only a few quick hours of labor, some pitocin, an epidural, and 3 pushes.<br />
I think she looks like the Rembrandt painting, Girl With A Pearl Earring in this picture.<br />
She weighed 7 pounds, 8 ounces (although, she did end up having quite a bit of fluid in her stomach, so that number may be a bit inflated), and was 20"long. Born with a very full head of dark hair, I think she will eventually go blonde.<br />
She is a champion nurser, and also really good at body-fluid evacuation.<br />
But she hates to burp.<br />
Her very first burp was as dainty as can be, but her pitiful little cry after seemed to say, "Oh, that was so gross and very un-ladylike. I shall never do that again."<br />
She is trying very hard to be a lady of her word.<br />
She loves having her hair brushed, and taking long naps on mommy's chest. I love that too.<br />
Her brothers are in love with her and always ask about her health, her sleeping, her crying, and J has already fetched me a new onesie! He's being so helpful. O is still wondering where he fits into the grand scheme of things now that he's been promoted to Big Brother status. I had forgotten the magic of a newborn baby and the sweetness they carry with them everywhere. D loves to sway with her- and she responds very well to her daddy.<br />
One quick note about her: she has the longest, most beautiful hands I've ever seen. In the words of Flight Of The Conchords: She could be a part-time (hand) model.<br />
Is that even a thing?<br />
Her sweetness is so beautiful.<br />
<br />Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-71123942190303062042013-05-25T07:46:00.000-05:002013-05-25T07:46:56.299-05:00Oliver Bear turns 4<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Oliver,<br />
Today you turn 4 years old and I can't believe how fast it's gone, how funny you are, and how much I love you. Four is a big number, it's almost all the fingers on one hand and you are so excited about getting to be a 'big boy'. This is in important term, as you keep reminding me that you are a 'big boy' and not to call you my 'baby'. But right now, kiddo, you are the baby in the family.<br />
You are such a cute kid- people who see you coming ruffle your hair as you walk on by because you are so cute. "He's so cuuuute" people say to me. I know exactly what they are talking about. You are.<br />
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You love to play. Trains are your favorite right now- Thomas the Tank Engine is a big deal for you, but you're starting to get into things like Legos and Star Wars but only because Dad and James are, I think. Your best friends are Elijah Cosby and Westley Roberts- but because you have a hard time saying "l", you pronounce them "E-wai-jah" and "Wes-wee". It's. Adorable.<br />
And because you're an easy-going guy, who will do anything that looks fun and have a good attitude about it all the time, everyone loves having you come over to play. You get along great with all the kids and when something is not right, you are full of righteous indignation. Sometimes.<br />
Sometimes you can be a pill.<br />
Sometimes you push all your big brother's buttons just to get him in trouble.<br />
And that's annoying.<br />
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You love to help me cook. If I'm in the kitchen, you want to be there too, helping me make whatever I'm making. I think you'll be a great cook one day. You also love to wear the Captain America kitchen apron. It's a bit big, since you're tiny, but it's so cute. You're like a puppy. Big Head, tiny body. Irresistible.<br />
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You love to ride bikes, draw volcanoes with chalk, read books, snuggle, watch movies, eat popcorn, look at bugs, find things, dress-up like a pirate, and do most outside things.<br />
I say "most" because there is one thing you hate.<br />
Swimming.<br />
I personally do NOT understand this, but you HATE HATE HATE big areas of water, swimming, even floating in a water-floatie just makes you angry with fear, and you end up screaming yourself hoarse. Every.Time.<br />
This will not go on. I'm just letting you know now, so when you find yourself reading this years down the road, you will thank me for putting you in the strictest swimming lessons I could find. You. May. Not. Drown. Not while you are my child. So, while you'll probably hate me all summer, at least you will be alive.<br />
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We love you, Oliver Bear! You're my sunshine, a funny little love, a sweet boy, a swarthy pirate and a punk, but always we love you to bits!<br />
Happy 4th Birthday to you!Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-30131741452290396132013-05-08T16:24:00.000-05:002013-05-08T16:24:31.604-05:00It's Dad Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It's Dad Day today.</div>
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I've decided to celebrate my Dad every May 8th, instead of waiting until Father's Day because of two things:</div>
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One, today is the day that one year ago, my father passed away</div>
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Two, he is such a cool guy, that I think 2 days should be used to talk about how neat my Dad is.</div>
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Who else could ever play Santa Claus?! My Dad was the best. Even after his original suit got stolen (! I know, WHO steals a hand-made completely velvet and fur Family Heirloom Suit?! The Karma is staggering),</div>
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He still played Santa for years! </div>
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This picture has something my Dad loved to do: cook meat on a grill to perfection. You can see the grill in the background. He was also a big fan of smoking. Meat, that is. </div>
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In addition to being a grill-master, my dad was also incredibly adept in the kitchen. He was tremendous with pastries. Here he is with James when James was only one. I love how intensely focused they both are.</div>
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This beauty shot was taken by my parent's good friend in Canada. It is my favorite Simpson Family picture of ALL TIME.</div>
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My dad always loved a good running joke. Captain Morgan.</div>
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It was rare to see my Dad without his trusty RayBan Wayfarers. In fact, they became a bit of a trademark.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialfMFG6TgZKrruRKc4CfAFkyvIDgJg_NBDJZGxqA2swNSpgZ85Y4_qFZwNPFwcx6I_ZT7QavjjwdRQ4PNmCDpfcvZ2A_Fbo2Yt_f0KexRd1ZC4rMdxyUyAoRbBfXHLVj5XRo1-Mqd1_lC/s1600/Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialfMFG6TgZKrruRKc4CfAFkyvIDgJg_NBDJZGxqA2swNSpgZ85Y4_qFZwNPFwcx6I_ZT7QavjjwdRQ4PNmCDpfcvZ2A_Fbo2Yt_f0KexRd1ZC4rMdxyUyAoRbBfXHLVj5XRo1-Mqd1_lC/s1600/Dad.jpg" /></a></div>
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I made this Quilt for my Dad. It was his family quilt that he could use in Dialysis so he could keep warm, and keep us all with him. He did not actually use it for that. Which, in all honesty, I'm a little bit perturbed about. But I'm sure he had his reasons- NONE of which ought to be that there was burnt-orange in the fabric. I tried to stick with as much Maroon and White as I could.</div>
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Mom took this photo, but it has all Simpson Children in it (Jacob is on a Mission, so he has to make do with being in a frame).</div>
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I love this photo.</div>
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Lest I forget, my dad loved to play in the dirt and get dirty. Even more, he loved getting everyone ELSE dirty too. Especially if he got to use cool tools to do that. Exhibit A: tiny diggers at the SLC Zoo. Yup. Sand Fight. </div>
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More Zoo.</div>
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Dad was great at taking photos. He was always ready with a smile and (rarely) complained. At least, I never heard it.</div>
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It's been exactly one year. I don't feel like he's 'GONE' in capital letters. I still feel like he's just 'right there', like, I could call him from the next room and he'd bellow, "What do you want?". Occasionally I feel sad- sad that I can't just talk to him on the phone, ask for advice, hear the latest (bad) joke, or him gloating about what he's eating for dinner. That part is awful.</div>
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But.</div>
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I still have photos, memories, e-mails, handwritten notes. And that's good.</div>
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alright, now I'm crying.</div>
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I miss my Dad.</div>
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But I know it's not for forever.</div>
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Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-17551934119116455182013-04-28T08:17:00.001-05:002013-04-28T08:17:22.968-05:00Staying HomeI realize I haven't posted anything for a long time. Not that there aren't things to write about, it just happens that at the end of the day, I would much rather spend a little time with my husband than write about "things", trying to find an appropriate picture to match the post, and in all other ways be a "blogger".<br />
This may come as a shock. But I'm no blogger.<br />
<br />
But something happened last night that I think is really important that I would actually LIKE to write about. So here we go.<br />
<br />
Last night, D and I were sitting in the concert hall waiting for the Giuseppe Verdi's Requiem to begin. As the hall filled, there was a couple sitting behind D who were conversing with people next to D. So, naturally, we could hear everything being said. Not like we were eavesdropping. We weren't. It was just one of those inescapable situations.<br />
The lady who was talking mentioned to her friend that she had enjoyed the privilege of staying at home with her children all the way through their school years.<br />
This seems like a small statement, but I was so glad to hear it.<br />
<br />
It IS a privilege to stay home with my children. Sometimes I feel like I need to justify my mom-status to people I meet, or people I know. That somehow, being a stay-at-home mom is not enough. That I need to be doing more "acceptable" things than being with my kids.<br />
<br />
Hearing that woman last night was a breath of fresh air. She was not ashamed of being a stay-at-home mom. And I don't have to be either.<br />
<br />
Sure, it's nice to be able to say: I have this and this degree, I do this and this in the community, I volunteer here and here, I I I I I. But is that what is MOST important? Really?<br />
<br />
I'll be honest. Sometimes I have a VERY difficult time being a mom. There are really only a few things that I can actually stand to play and unfortunately, my boys are not interested in them. They want to play trains, cars, star wars, dress-up. They want to do the things that I have NO interest in. But I try to do it anyways. Why? Because it matters to them. I don't want to do laundry (it's the worst chore, no?). I don't want to clean a kitchen 3 times a day, or pick-up the legos my kids missed. But I DO want the things that doing the I-don't-want-to's bring. I DO want my kids in clean clothes, playing on a clean floor, eating good food that I can make for them. I DO want my kids to have an imagination. I DO want them to appreciate nature, listen to and learn to play good music, and know how to have fun with very little. I don't want them to become a slave to technology. I DO want them to be independent and learn to use the power of words. They should be curious, excited, engaged, and occasionally crazy. They are kids, after all. Those are things that stay-at-home moms teach kids to do. What to be. We have all the power in the world.<br />
People who make policy, who sit at heads of state, who manage economies- they have nothing on the strength and power of a mom. Who are they? Elected or appointed. Temporary. Dispensable. Forgettable.<br />
But who is a mom? Permanent. Included. Indispensable. Forever. Unforgettable. (for good or for ill, ask any psychiatrist)<br />
And here's the best part: a Mom does not need to be the woman who actually gave birth to you. All adopted children know that.<br />
A mom is the one who loves you and sticks with you and supports you and encourages you and helps you up when you fall NO MATTER WHAT.<br />
But that comes at a price.<br />
And sometimes that's a heavy price for a smart, educated, driven, ambitious woman to bear.<br />
<br />
I gave up a LOT to be a stay-at-home mom and I know FOR A FACT that my cohorts in the mommy-world also have given up much of their immediate desires to raise a family. I wanted to get an advanced degree. Well, I started, and then my one-year-old baby had a seizure, stopped talking and was soon enrolled in early childhood intervention with an eventual diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome as well as struggling with echolalia. The work I have put into him ALONE has been a huge undertaking. But I felt like there were more people who needed to be a part of my family. Now, as a family of 4, we still feel there is another who needs to come. And I will stay-at-home with my children gladly.<br />
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And my advanced degree? I do not want it right now.<br />
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David O.McKay is quoted as saying, "There is no success in the world that can compensate for failure at home."<br />
<br />
Do you believe that?<br />
I DO!<br />
<br />
What ill of the world would not be improved except by a stay-at-home mom who cares, loves, instructs, corrects, and supports her children?<br />
<br />
This is what weighs in the balance. A Mom makes ALL the difference. Not a PhD. Not a business. Not accolades, money, or power. The ultimate power is in being a Mother.<br />
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Someday I will look back on what I've done. What will be the most important? I think it will be the things that bring me joy. Things that give me a feeling of fulfillment. Will that be hours spent in a library or in front of a computer achieving another couple of letters after my signature at the expense of my kids? No! It will be the things I did with my kiddos. The many trips to the park, the swimming, the sidewalk chalk, the reading stories, the science projects, the piano recitals, the soccer games, the swim meets, the camping trips and everything else that a parent is BLESSED to do with their children, as well as the rough parts: scraped knees, broken hearts, bullying, homework, failed dreams, belligerent attitudes, hard work that doesn't pay off etc. The things that brought my parents joy will be the things that bring me joy.<br />
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Now there are still things that I get to do for "me time" each day. I run alone. I do yoga. I sew. I play piano for myself. Occasionally, I cook a REALLY nice dinner for D and I, and my kids eat PBJ. I go on dates with my husband. There is plenty of "me" time built into my day- lest you understand from my thoughts here that I am a slave to my family. NOT true. But my overriding occupation is a mom!<br />
<br />
I was so moved by this nice lady's statement of simple occupation- being a stay-at-home mom. Ecclesiastes says, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven."<br />
This is my time to be a stay-at-home mom.<br />
Another time will come when I am no longer needed to raise children in my home. And that will be an exciting new chapter.<br />
So, I will not be ashamed. I will not answer the question "so what do you do" with "I'm a piano teacher", or any other peripheral occupation.<br />
I will answer, "I have the privilege of staying home with my children".<br />
<br />Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-86279744360038244702012-12-25T09:00:00.001-06:002012-12-25T09:00:55.820-06:00Merry Christmas 2012
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<span style="font-family: Quaver Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: 48pt;">Season's
Greetings</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Quaver Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">from
the Daily’s.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Quaver Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We
have had quite a year and would like to</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Quaver Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">share
a bit about it with you.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Optima Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Drue</b></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">
- This has been a very big year for Dr. N. Drue Daily. As you can
see, he graduated from the University of Nebraska–Lincoln with his
DMA Composition. In addition to graduating, his </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Symphony
In Three Marches</i></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">
is currently nominated for the Folsom Distinguished Dissertation
Award Prize. The University just can’t seem to get enough of him,
so he’s a Lecturer of Music in the music department, and he likes
it. Good thing too. He just accepted a call to serve as the sunday
school president in church and is a huge help to Ashley with the boys
as she teaches piano. And in his “spare” time, he is building a
small music typesetting business.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Optima Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b>Ashley</b></span><span style="font-weight: normal;">
- Ashley</span> is in love with the family’s new <i>Petrof</i>
piano and the beautiful music it makes. She is still teaching piano
and is very happy with the progress her studio is making. Running the
Olathe, Kansas Oz Half-Marathon is becoming a yearly tradition for
her and it’s almost time to start training again! All in all, this
has been a very blessed year for her.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Optima Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b>James</b></span>
- James started taking piano lessons this year and he loves it. He
even wrote his first piece of music for the piano: <i>Pancakes</i>.
He is in first grade at Humann Elementary and is very much enjoying
school, his friends, and he even likes to do his homework. James
loves to dress up still and is very into skeletons, Harry Potter, and
still a bit into super heroes. He’s also learning how cool Legos
are. Drue is happy about that.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Optima Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b>Oliver</b></span>
- Oliver turned 3 this year and is such a joy! He loves to help his
mommy do just about anything and particularly likes to sit on the
counter and help her cook. He’s getting pretty good at cracking an
egg. He loves to dance and sing, and play piano with his mom. Oliver
is enamored with trains, particularly Thomas the Tank Engine, and is
also loving his hot-wheel cars. He’s such a pleasant boy, we all
adore him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Optima Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> May the Lord
bless you and keep you in his loving arms this new year,</span></span><br />
<br /><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Quaver Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Drue,
Ashley, James, and Oliver</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Quaver Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: 32pt;">The
Daily's</span></span></span></div>
Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-13452567285976402872012-10-26T07:22:00.003-05:002012-10-26T07:22:42.580-05:00schoolworkHere are the answers James provided to the questions on his schoolwork. They were instructed to write a sentence or a simile describing each month.<br />
<br />
January- New year<br />
February is... Love Day<br />
March is... Same patrics Day<br />
April is.... Easter time<br />
May is.... flowers day<br />
June is.... Beach time<br />
July is.... 4th year to cellebrate Nebraska<br />
August is... James's birth day<br />
September is... about racking leaves<br />
October is.... Halloween<br />
November is... Thank's Giving<br />
December is... Santa Claws's Birthday<br />
<br />
I love 1st graders!<br />
<br />
<br />Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-64729845889165763132012-08-15T21:25:00.002-05:002012-08-15T21:25:36.031-05:00to do listThings I'm trying to get around to doing:<br />
blogging about James' birthday<br />
sending out pictures to all the parents of their children who attended James' birthday party<br />
blogging about James' first day of school- 1st grade edition<br />
fall cleaning- the big one!<br />
figuring out what we need to replace, recycle or refashion in our home<br />
then doing that<br />
trying to come up with some ideas for the craft fair in december<br />
working on testing the recipes in 'the' cookbook<br />
trying to not gain 10 lbs. while testing those recipes<br />
blogging about my birthday (it's on thursday) and the amazing things I have planned for my birthday bash- two words: Tamale Party.<br />
<br />
also, I need to potty train Oliver.<br />
But I am dreading that moment. Not out of any true concern for my ability to produce a potty-trained child. No. It is because I hate potty training. I don't even have a pinterest board for it, I hate it so much.<br />
<br />
thanks for listing to my list.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-42149706439227388632012-08-08T09:05:00.000-05:002012-08-08T09:05:23.031-05:006 years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Vital Statistics<br />
Name: James Vaughan Daily<br />
Birthday: August 8<br />
Height: 45.5 inches<br />
Weight: 44 lbs.- ish<br />
Favorite things to do: Ride bikes, run, play on the swings (you learned how to swing yourself just 3 days ago!), make-believe play that you are at various times Spiderman, Batman, Pirates, Angry Birds, astronaut, chef, animals of all kinds, and (very recently) Harry Potter. You like playing with Legos, reading books that have anything to do with skeletons, dinosaurs, Henry and Mudge, Dr.Seuss (you are just now understanding the funny things in his stories, for example: Oliver Boliver Butt sent you into hysterics for a couple of days), and you love going out to our friend's farm to chase chickens. As a matter of fact, you actually caught one last week!<br />
You have no fear! Every time we go to the zoo, you head straight for the bug building and ask to hold every single bug you can! You love to pick up bugs from the sidewalk and just look. You say they tickle you.<br />
You have learned to swim pretty well this year. We're working on learning to swim with our head above water. Keep working on moving your arms!<br />
You LOVE to draw and your coloring is getting so good! When you really focus, your pictures are just beautiful! You are especially good at manipulating letters. We love your drawings and how you collage your walls!<br />
Every little girl at church has a crush on you because you're just so cute! And we all love you very much.<br />
<br />
Happy 6th Birthday to my big boy!Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-54400040922272294642012-07-21T21:29:00.002-05:002012-07-21T21:29:59.736-05:00On why I do not have pictures nor a story about this summerFor those who are just DYING for an update on my little family, here it is.<br />
It's going to be short.<br />
And sweetness may have no part in my writing.<br />
<br />
What we have done in the routine:<br />
YMCA<br />
swim<br />
library<br />
park<br />
zoo<br />
bowling<br />
summer academy<br />
<br />
What we have done out of the routine:<br />
DCI in Omaha.<br />
water sports at the lake with good friends.<br />
Fireworks.<br />
<br />
So, as you can see, our summer has been VERY tame. I make sure we have something to do every day- it get's us out of the house for most of the day and I am the kind of person to DO things when I spend time with my family.<br />
<br />
Mostly, though, this has been a summer of enormously lazy proportions.<br />
The kind of summer you look back on and say:<br />
"What did we do?"<br />
"Nothing."<br />
"Oh yeah! That was awesome."<br />
<br />
So, to those long summer days, I've enjoyed you. It's actually starting to get dark around 9 o'clock now.<br />
Soon, the trees will start to turn.<br />
Soon, football will rule the town.<br />
Soon, school will start and for the first time in our entire marriage, I will not send my husband to school.<br />
That will be weird.<br />
<br />
Summer days, driftin' away, but- oh! Oh those summer nights...<br />
<br />Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-4529118725711929922012-05-25T21:07:00.002-05:002012-05-25T21:07:36.243-05:00Kindergarten is closedOr,<br />
I now have a 1st Grader.<br />
<br />
This school year has FLOWN by! James has made such HUGE strides in school- both academically and behaviorally. At the beginning of the year, he was having a hard time using his words to express his feelings, whether positive or negative. Now, he can tell me what he is feeling and why! This is a big deal here!<br />
Also, he has discovered art. His art teacher told him he was her best art student in the Kindergarten level.<br />
I'm not surprised. It runs in the family. But I'm proud of him! At the beginning of the school year, he was having a very difficult time following instructions. Now, he completes all his assignments on his own! It's amazing!!!<br />
Of course, none of this could happen without his amazing teachers: Mrs. Jill Gable, Mrs. English, and Mrs. McNaught. They have been just wonderful and I love them so much!<br />
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This is at the beginning of the year:<br />
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And this is at the end:<br />
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On to first grade!!!<br />
And piano lessons, and swim lessons and soccer and everything else.<br />
<br />Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-73553975233674447742012-05-25T20:30:00.001-05:002012-05-25T20:30:37.128-05:00Rapunzel Rapunzel, let down thy hair!I have a friend who is treating her kids to the ultimate DisneyWorld vacation. (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">maybe I'm a little bit jealous...)</span><br />
And she needed a dress for her little girl.<br />
Well, <i>I</i> don't have one of those, and <i>she</i> (my friend) doesn't have the skill set to sew a costume dress, so I said I'd do it for her. I have to live vicariously through other mom's of little girls. Not that I don't love my boys- I DO! But sewing for a little girl is SO much fun. And it's pretty.<br />
My friend's little girl wanted a Rapunzel dress, so here it is:<br />
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Here's what I learned how to use/do while making this dress:<br />
Fray Check<br />
Heat 'n' Bond<br />
Elastic thread<br />
Eyelets<br />
Lace and trim<br />
lots and lots of hemming<br />
altering a pattern<br />
Satins are a pain to sew with forever and ever, amen.<br />
How to NOT use an iron<br />
How to HIDE iron damage<br />
How to make a little girl's dream dress come true.<br />
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I'm available for hire, now:)Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-39760174484540667662012-05-25T20:20:00.004-05:002012-05-25T20:20:49.876-05:00Oliver and the PianoA photo essay<br />
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How cute is that?!<br />
<br />Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-73356718259561728592012-05-25T20:12:00.001-05:002012-05-25T20:12:41.976-05:00as promised<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This post is in celebration of the HUGE accomplishment of graduating with a Doctorate of Musical Arts (DMA). And can I just say how cool it is that the pre-fix 'Mr.' is now 'Dr.'?!!<br />
Dr. and Mrs. N. Drue Daily<br />
Dr. Daily<br />
Dr. Drue.<br />
Anyway you say it, I'm so proud of Drue. His dissertation is being nominated for 'Dissertation of the Year', which is a University-wide honor. He has worked so hard -and so have I- to make this work. We have loved our time at the University of Nebraska and will forever be Huskers. Go Big Red!<br />
Of course, the weekend wouldn't have been complete without Grammy, Papa and Jesse. They came all the way out from California and Utah- we couldn't have had a nicer time with them. Ice cream, teppanyaki (James was SO impressed with the "fire chef"), Fajitas, target, park, Omaha zoo, Temple, we did it all.<br />
And we are DONE.<br />
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The Dr. is IN.<br />
<br />Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-44438605413876286382012-05-25T11:44:00.001-05:002012-05-25T11:44:24.294-05:00Someone has a birthday...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Someone turned 3 years old today.<br />
Answers to: Oliver, Bear, Ollie, Cuteness, Baby Olive, Tiny, Ollr (thanks, Elijah:).<br />
Blond hair, Brown eyes. Big Smile.<br />
Shy around strangers.<br />
Loves his mommy.<br />
Crazy about Thomas the Tank Engine, Lightning McQueen, Legos, Train tracks, PUZZLES, and playing Ball.<br />
Can ride a bike, almost.<br />
Is a dog-lover. Seriously.<br />
Draws monsters, and is good at coloring.<br />
Loves to be read to, and snuggled with.<br />
Favorite food? Pistachios.<br />
Least favorite food? Pizza. (Really?! C'mon. Who does that?)<br />
Wrestles with his older brother ALL THE TIME.<br />
Wants to play the piano ALL THE TIME.<br />
And also the drums.<br />
Funny funny funny. Steals everyone's heart.<br />
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Happy Birthday sweet boy! We just love you to pieces.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-83834601980514101232012-05-19T12:44:00.000-05:002012-05-19T12:44:19.204-05:00The New Baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Small story:<br />
We wanted a new piano. We found a few on craigslist that were awful. Then I found this one and heard the hallelujah chorus with a descending shaft of light. One steal of a deal later, the Petrof is mine! I mean, ours. Ours.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-38643256698425575292012-05-04T20:31:00.001-05:002012-05-04T20:31:26.371-05:00Coming attraction: The Dr.As soon as possible, we present for your reading pleasure, the Dr. Daily show.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-4033521845055956062012-04-23T15:25:00.000-05:002012-04-23T15:25:23.872-05:00The Second Half<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is the second Half-Marathon I've run. I guess that means I can say without a doubt that I am a runner.</div>
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But please don't understand that statement to mean in any way that I am a fast runner.</div>
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I am not.</div>
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But I do it.</div>
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It's cheaper than therapy.</div>
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So, this is my second big race. I've done a couple 5K's for fun, and a 10K to keep me going, and a 10 miler as a "long run" race. Those are all place holders for the big stuff.</div>
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I've run this particular race twice now. I like the course, I like the medal, and this year I LOVED the weather.</div>
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Have I ever mentioned that I am extremely competitive?</div>
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Or that I will do almost anything for a shirt and a medal?</div>
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So, running one of these things gives me everything I need: a goal, something hard to do, and when it's all done, validation.</div>
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And free chiropractic adjustment.</div>
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And free massage therapy.</div>
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And lots of free beer:)</div>
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So. You know where I was.</div>
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This is me with the nice lady who was just making sure that I had all the required documentation in order to enter the Expo. She really didn't check me in. But she was nice enough to pose with me. </div>
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Do you see how the Tin Man is pointing at me? I planned that.<br />
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The witch is faster than me. And you know what? That's okay.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVotbJodgz2-xf9YZbVuAy1Q5ialmSwVu2XC43RwoTwy5jsyALzmlylNIcgqJyVO9jqOu0H0EeVXcULbEWEzg0CAJJIxmzEqJkoQkFleEd1gSlTdEKF09CLFJLRWjaOO9kskKGU6NiL60k/s1600/reg3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVotbJodgz2-xf9YZbVuAy1Q5ialmSwVu2XC43RwoTwy5jsyALzmlylNIcgqJyVO9jqOu0H0EeVXcULbEWEzg0CAJJIxmzEqJkoQkFleEd1gSlTdEKF09CLFJLRWjaOO9kskKGU6NiL60k/s320/reg3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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At the Expo I picked up my shirt, my pacing times, a couple free vials of hand sanitizer, free chap-stick, free bio-freeze samples, and almost purchased a 13.1 sticker for my car, but in the end, decided I didn't like the font, much to my husband's relief.</div>
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In Olathe, I stayed in the La Quinta.</div>
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My grandmother always mispronounced the name as:</div>
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"la kwintuh".</div>
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She's from Texas.</div>
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Since I last set foot in a "la kwintuh", say, 15 years ago, they have made some improvements.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4Mm3k0G_kQ1y72NnOMXV0WT5SrrarVNnI8qpPhVB-2GcKFtqLWTgDAradZMPFl-lQb_mNYGtecAxWB5gfFdnn3ZRCvNhxzNjEJyBaMVlRNtGKS7Dh9tTYGlGrwn7nsCfWzvKdC4fbXXO/s1600/LQ1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4Mm3k0G_kQ1y72NnOMXV0WT5SrrarVNnI8qpPhVB-2GcKFtqLWTgDAradZMPFl-lQb_mNYGtecAxWB5gfFdnn3ZRCvNhxzNjEJyBaMVlRNtGKS7Dh9tTYGlGrwn7nsCfWzvKdC4fbXXO/s320/LQ1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruyob8O3uiQx1EesXN8T8ajfQIf9tfbUr18g-VHvSGUUpn9qVAYAssr6cuhDXHDx6TiN_5-9C1qHRc7iUqO6dZsn8ys_278OcPm4HfuWPxmx_wv6GU8Th8ygk0V7V7UTSey8Ojt5x0SB1/s1600/LQ2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruyob8O3uiQx1EesXN8T8ajfQIf9tfbUr18g-VHvSGUUpn9qVAYAssr6cuhDXHDx6TiN_5-9C1qHRc7iUqO6dZsn8ys_278OcPm4HfuWPxmx_wv6GU8Th8ygk0V7V7UTSey8Ojt5x0SB1/s320/LQ2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I actually had a decent night of sleep.</div>
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Except for the alarm that didn't work.</div>
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And I was paranoid that I wouldn't work.</div>
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So, I got 1.5 hours of decent sleep, 4 times in a row.</div>
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Maybe not my best night.</div>
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But at least I had cute fingernails.</div>
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My friend, Sara, brought me a race-package just before I left. She gave me this minty color nail polish and told me she was calling it "Mint Sprint", so whenever I got tired, I could look at my nails and go a little bit farther.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSa_EKsOSRFcEKhNdZUn-up03GyERhQHBhdp0OrQVcZVA7YiYk-aJTqWIgDI-pTLrZhaN25wof9kogi6xm-xHPswwAOPaFn72-Rq7V8fQANbWx5LdH-hpYwSBIRtwQT3caB4xPD73yN3Za/s1600/nails+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSa_EKsOSRFcEKhNdZUn-up03GyERhQHBhdp0OrQVcZVA7YiYk-aJTqWIgDI-pTLrZhaN25wof9kogi6xm-xHPswwAOPaFn72-Rq7V8fQANbWx5LdH-hpYwSBIRtwQT3caB4xPD73yN3Za/s320/nails+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It worked.:)</div>
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This is me. 5am. Race morning.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCQqiIqyfWM6S5FxktcrsHwR1glW5bqxc6yMhAbuCAQJiZn6o6MmfJRTmrNQeL1XPQiwUKs_AUXYaL6E9FXLi6vMzaaPYTY1AkmtDw7fmEjODARX4GZmVQEH9i4Xs3sWXrz8cxdrVx4wZ/s1600/am1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCQqiIqyfWM6S5FxktcrsHwR1glW5bqxc6yMhAbuCAQJiZn6o6MmfJRTmrNQeL1XPQiwUKs_AUXYaL6E9FXLi6vMzaaPYTY1AkmtDw7fmEjODARX4GZmVQEH9i4Xs3sWXrz8cxdrVx4wZ/s320/am1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is me. 6am race morning. Heading out to breakfast, then to the start line. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OMe4ApWXpocLQy06c2DehfMrhimNADZQiQa6Jj3OOugG12G_uIhXBCxQQEa4zgqgzVu2KWxP1Q0QlIJ5gf_in32vI0zCaukSGcKkBh9EL_lbabADzXOJ0nxBzs0vdFLswwDeRkQmjGH1/s1600/am3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OMe4ApWXpocLQy06c2DehfMrhimNADZQiQa6Jj3OOugG12G_uIhXBCxQQEa4zgqgzVu2KWxP1Q0QlIJ5gf_in32vI0zCaukSGcKkBh9EL_lbabADzXOJ0nxBzs0vdFLswwDeRkQmjGH1/s320/am3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Me at the start. It was perfect weather! Sunny, no wind, chilly. Exactly what people who like running in the cold want to run in. I was so happy. But you're having a hard time seeing my face because it was so gosh darn sunny.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Jqlm7234ruQO4lpA2D1hcZ9lc95-FDv0I-txWfq4NeZ-ck0AXv1nEdBkzYDcVE0BLambo13QXSnzADWaybCK6SnvLRaQuoMat2vDxz_EUNQyTF2erPBBwoe9VTH4sqyVyTgDz64rTv5s/s1600/there1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Jqlm7234ruQO4lpA2D1hcZ9lc95-FDv0I-txWfq4NeZ-ck0AXv1nEdBkzYDcVE0BLambo13QXSnzADWaybCK6SnvLRaQuoMat2vDxz_EUNQyTF2erPBBwoe9VTH4sqyVyTgDz64rTv5s/s320/there1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I ran a nice, slow, steady pace, just fast enough to beat my time from last year by 2 minutes. I PR'ed!</div>
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At around mile 6, I put in the headphones.</div>
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Mile 8, I started mouthing along to the songs.</div>
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Mile 9 I was singing softly and "rundancing".</div>
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Mile 10-ish I was full on singing at the top of my lungs. I'll bet money it sounded like I was shouting. But I was actually just trying to keep on going.</div>
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Let me tell you something- people give you two different kinds of looks when you run by them singing at the top of your lungs.</div>
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One: Smile and chuckle. I got this 14-year-old-ish boy to break into a huge dimpled smile as I ran by sing/yelling "We Are Young". Proudest moment of mile 11.</div>
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And Two: they look around as if trying to find where 'that sound' is coming from. When they look your direction, they get a very confused look and then they whisper bitterly to their friends, with words that express what I can only assume is jealousy. Jealousy that they aren't as awesome as you; you who can run 11-13.1 miles and somehow still have enough breath to sing such sweet sweet songs. </div>
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When you run the final "chute" people are crowded all along the finnish line, shouting encouragement, and the announcer says,"Here's a strong finnish by Ashley Daily, from Lincoln, Nebraska!!!!!" The crowd goes wild because they understand that you are the best thing since... well, since the person who finished 2 seconds earlier.</div>
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But still!</div>
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It's a thrill.</div>
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I fist-pumped.</div>
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Me and Wendy, my traveling companion and friend. This was her first. She is AMAZING!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E2w0XMWzeZcPCZ_mzdSGeZ9lpSw5CtBaJgxoI2hL67Y5yHiMi8T-gDDgWR-8kniyeTF0KClg7IYubgGlCpGximMMD2Q4xD_0HOZ-w4EINAGLjRfZ8hOdJ5_L3HDIemXFCjz31ns0mHKw/s1600/done1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E2w0XMWzeZcPCZ_mzdSGeZ9lpSw5CtBaJgxoI2hL67Y5yHiMi8T-gDDgWR-8kniyeTF0KClg7IYubgGlCpGximMMD2Q4xD_0HOZ-w4EINAGLjRfZ8hOdJ5_L3HDIemXFCjz31ns0mHKw/s320/done1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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After the race, the adjustment, a banana, a massage, a big bottle of water and some pretzels, a final picture and that's it folks!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiReb-2xYBh91Cov-e1fM5HJTl8uoAy9vsQdnTPDpJJwt60hKn8xNbG9hIr-xGXD3P1xjcbaLyq6bs0UhbLTFkCKr51RlrqCN5LcQedjzxPbXK4hgvYdE94T6YY6YRTnIbSsHteJFDSgKGG/s1600/done2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiReb-2xYBh91Cov-e1fM5HJTl8uoAy9vsQdnTPDpJJwt60hKn8xNbG9hIr-xGXD3P1xjcbaLyq6bs0UhbLTFkCKr51RlrqCN5LcQedjzxPbXK4hgvYdE94T6YY6YRTnIbSsHteJFDSgKGG/s320/done2.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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I am planning on running another in the fall- October-ish. If you'd like to run with me, I'd love to have you.</div>Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-36485762560451947592012-04-23T12:42:00.001-05:002012-04-23T12:42:18.010-05:00coming soon: the second half.I hope to get to this tonight. Stay tuned for pictures form the day before, morning of and right after the race.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-22374593718432780802012-04-05T22:38:00.000-05:002012-04-05T22:38:00.218-05:00New Life GoalI have a new life goal.<br />
Ready?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I want to play (and win!) the International Piano Competition for Outstanding Amateurs (hosted by the Van Cliburn Foundation).<br />
<br />
Side note: I am not eligible to participate until I am 35. Guess that means I better start practicing!Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-59576129999442279222012-03-26T15:18:00.000-05:002012-03-26T15:18:00.311-05:00A complete listI am a list person.<div>I wake up and write a list of the things I need to do for that day.</div><div>Usually, that list starts with the words: Get up.</div><div>And then I get to do this immediately: <strike>Get up</strike></div><div>It sort of makes me feel like I've already accomplished <i>one</i> thing, so maybe I should keep going.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The next thing on that daily list is always: Eat breakfast.</div><div>Eat breakfast? Check. </div><div><strike>Eat breakfast.</strike></div><div><strike><br />
</strike></div><div>In order I cross out:</div><div>Boys dressed.</div><div>D to Bus, J to school, O/A to Y</div><div><br />
</div><div>Some days, like mondays, I add:</div><div>Menu</div><div>Grocery shopping</div><div><br />
</div><div>And Mondays are the only day I get those two things done. So:</div><div><strike>Menu</strike></div><div><strike>Grocery shopping</strike></div><div><strike><br />
</strike></div><div>Then the rest of the day varies. Swim lessons, play with friends, go somewhere.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Three days of the week end like this:</div><div>Dinner</div><div>A teach piano</div><div>Boys bed</div><div><br />
</div><div>For some reason, I never EVER cross those out, even though they are always done.</div><div><br />
</div><div>On my refrigerator, I usually have a list of projects that I'm working on:</div><div>N's Pillow</div><div>M's Bracelet</div><div>A's Pillow</div><div>O's quilt</div><div>A's dress</div><div><br />
</div><div>Those project lists remind me that I have work to do. Lots of it. But instead of being productive, like my lists normally inspire me to be, the project list just sits there, gathering length. </div><div>The reason for this has to lay in the variable proximity of my sewing machine to a suitable work space, the availability of my materials and the organization thereof. Unfortunately, I have to store all my fabric, notions, patterns and other various crafting tools in large, plastic bins. The contents of those buckets get moved and moved and moved so often as I search through the rubble. It certainly does not help the discouraging organization.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I have a HUGE number of untold projects waiting for me to finnish.</div><div>I NEED to finnish them. Preferably before I die.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Drue helped me out in a big way, yesterday, inspiring me to DO the things I need to: He found a sewing table for me. </div><div>Correction: he found a used desk that was just sitting outside which is a perfect size for a sewing table for me. </div><div>BIG plus: it was free.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Since I'm talking about lists, here is a list of the things we have acquired for free:</div><div>A huge solid oak armoire for our TV, and movies</div><div>A TV</div><div>another TV</div><div>A desk chair</div><div>another desk chair</div><div>A refrigerator for his office</div><div>A microwave</div><div>Many many many baby clothes and baby accessories.</div><div>A large sewing table</div><div><br />
</div><div>Oh, and my beautiful pair of Old Gringo Boots. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I feel like the Lord is keeping us well taken care of. Usually, we just have to wait for a bit.</div><div><br />
</div><div>But back to my table.</div><div>I now have a sewing table. One that I can LEAVE OUT. I don't have to put EVERYTHING away when I'm done using it. </div><div>On the contrary.</div><div><i>It sits and waits for me!</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div>Fabric has been organized, properly folded, stored. Notions cleaned out and ordered. Cutting mats, rulers, tools, patterns- all have a home. They are still in boxes, don't get me wrong. But now the BOXES have a home. Right next to the sewing table.</div><div><br />
</div><div>This is exciting. I'm sure it will become a HUGE mess, but for now, it's ordered, clean, new. </div><div><i>Inviting.</i> </div><div>Yes, that's the word.</div><div>Cordially your's,</div><div>The New Sewing Table.</div>Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-56166584753850191662012-03-19T16:49:00.000-05:002012-03-19T16:49:28.524-05:00To PrincesJames wrote the following:<br />
<br />
Dear Princes<br />
I am Real<br />
You are<br />
Prity<br />
To Princes<br />
From Spider-MaN<br />
<br />
I am the princess. I love that boy!Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-71265325034555058032012-03-16T08:14:00.000-05:002012-03-16T08:14:11.264-05:00YogaI love doing yoga.<br />
<br />
I know some people hate it. (lookin' at you, D)<br />
<br />
But I love it. Slow. Deliberate.<br />
<br />
The line of the pose, the stretch up and out, the inward pause.<br />
<br />
And maybe I'll be the "chubby yogi" for my whole life.<br />
<br />
At least I'll be happy.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-74978641402653658542012-03-11T22:22:00.000-05:002012-03-11T22:22:34.873-05:00Day lightThose without children may not "get" this, but I hate Day Light Savings.<br />
Well.<br />
I guess that's not entirely true.<br />
I hate it in the spring.<br />
When we loose an hour.<br />
That precious hour.<br />
That one hour that makes or breaks a whole day.<br />
<br />
That one I did without this morning.<br />
<br />
News flash: I don't do well with only 6 hours of sleep.<br />
<br />
Also, I may not wait for fall to get my extra hour back. Is there any way we can strong-arm time BACK to where it was, say, saturday?!<br />
<br />
I'm seeing a poster campaign:<br />
LOST!<br />
ONE HOUR OF SLEEP.<br />
<br />
If found, please return to me. ASAP.<br />
<br />
It could work.Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-90890233736901915742012-03-04T16:20:00.000-06:002012-03-04T16:20:02.991-06:00The Thrift StoreOr: Why I bought a rain coat for james 4 years ago because it was a dollar and I knew I'd need it someday.<br />
<br />
Have you ever had the experience of finding that AMAZING deal at a thrift store? The item fits perfectly. It's exactly what you need. You find yourself wondering how you have made it thus far through life without that item.<br />
<br />
This story is not about that item.<br />
<br />
Instead, its a short, but triumphant, mini-yahoo about thrift store shopping for the future.<br />
<br />
When we lived in Utah, we had a thrift store, the likes of which I had not seen, and still have found no equivalent. The D-I. And not just any D.I. It was the Sugarhouse D.I.<br />
We went every weekend. And sometimes I'd go in the middle of the week just because.<br />
On one excursion to that promised land, I found a packable rain coat. Now, I happen to know a bit about hiking and proper equipment for camping- I did work at REI in high school- and it finally paid off! THis was not a name-brand rain coat, but it had all the ingredients. So, I bought it.<br />
<br />
Low and behold, it's a child's coat.<br />
<br />
Well well. That's not a problem because I have two children. I tried it on J and it was a circus tent on him! I put it away until he could fit into it andI have been hauling that half-a-bag-of-beans sized coat/bag around for 4 years and today- today it finally fits!<br />
<br />
Take this lesson to heart: Sometimes it's okay to buy a thing you will need in the future if and only if it's something to grow into, because the other way around is a rare thing:)<br />
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NO MORE!Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6707280843292501806.post-82263378704863842662012-02-28T09:16:00.000-06:002012-02-28T09:16:54.253-06:00The morning commuteWe are so lucky to live here. I absolutely LOVE Lincoln, NE. We have made great family memories here, and even though the weather can turn inclement on a dime, there's not much that we don't like about Lincoln.<br />
One of those things is traffic. There is no traffic. At least, not like the traffic I grew up dealing with. Concord at 6:30-8:30am? HORRIFIC.<br />
Lincoln? None. Nein. Zilch. Zero.<br />
Nada.<br />
<br />
So, taking Drue to the bus stop on the way to dropping James off at school is not a problem.<br />
<br />
Yesterday morning, we were in the car driving to the bus stop. As we were driving, I was making a mental list of the order of things to be done. And you know how sometimes in your distraction you mumble things aloud? That's what I was doing.<br />
"Mom, what are you doing?", comes from the back seat.<br />
"I'm just talking to myself", I answer.<br />
"Can I talk to <i>myself</i>?", he asks so sweetly and innocently.<br />
"Of course you can."<br />
"Okay. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Good morning, James. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Hi. How are you?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Good! Did you finnish your homework?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Yes! Did you eat your breakfast?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Yes! It was good. Are you ready to go to school?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Yes!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Okay. Let's go!</span><br />
Mom, I'm all done!"<br />
<br />
(At this point I'm struggling to keep my laughter in silent mode so I could listen to this personal little exchange)<br />
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He's so sweet. And also quite literal!Ashley and Druehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05503815231822181937noreply@blogger.com1