tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43371878961155717302024-03-16T03:08:51.703-04:00Come What Maycelebrating the little moments in everyday lifeSarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.comBlogger174125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-37579288695359349672020-04-19T22:34:00.001-04:002020-04-20T10:00:56.385-04:00Honest Question, Stupid Answer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
“But why?”<br />
<br />
I’m sure this was a question my parents grew weary of me asking. One they heard over and over again, all of my years living in their home.<br />
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I am not rebellious by nature. What I am is a question asker. I can’t simply accept something because <i>This Is The Way We’ve Always Done Things</i>. I need to know the logic or reason behind it.<br />
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I grew up in a conservative Mennonite culture. With this “more simple” way of life came an abundance of rules and traditions and expectations — especially for women.<br />
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Dresses were to be homemade, in a length that covered the knees, but also didn’t drag on the ground. (Long skirts were too fashionable, causing you to look like the world!) Necklines needed to brush the collar bone. Sleeves were required; if they reached the elbow, that was best. Depending on who was giving their opinion, prints and patterns on the dress were also something to regulate. Too loud or too bright was an issue of pride, muted and bland showed more humility.<br />
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The rules didn’t stop with the color of our shoes or the length of our skirts. We were told how to do our hair and what size and style of a head covering was most holy. Makeup was looked down upon. Jewelry, including wedding bands, were strictly forbidden. Yet somehow gold wrist watches were a practical exception.<br />
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My family left this church for a less conservative (but still conservative) Mennonite church when I was young, nearly a teen.<br />
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During that transition, rules did change a bit for our family. I was allowed now to wear skirts and blouses. They didn’t have to be homemade, but still needed to cover those sexy knees!<br />
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In that transition from one church to another, I, too, was transitioning from a young girl into a woman.<br />
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Like I said, I’m not rebellious, but I ask questions. As the rules for dress were loosening a bit, I brought up the topic of pants with my dad. I wanted to know the reason behind why I wasn’t allowed to wear them.<br />
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It felt a bit muddled as we discussed this. There is a verse in the Bible, Deuteronomy 22:5, that talks about women not wearing men’s clothing, and vice versa. <i>But I wouldn’t buy pants from the men’s clothing section,</i> I argued, <i>and besides, in Eastern and Middle Eastern cultures, women had been wearing pant-like garments for hundreds of years, before men, in fact.</i> To add to that, at the time I wasn’t allowed to buy t-shirts from the women’s section of the store, because they skimmed my budding figure too closely. The t-shirts permitted in my closet came straight off the rack in the boys clothing section of Walmart. But wasn’t this the entire issue to begin with? It didn’t at all line up, this double standard left me incredibly frustrated.<br />
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It felt like we went around and around on this discussion, neither of us able to see the other person’s perspective.<br />
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As an adult, I now realize that my dad felt a lot of pressure from his culture and family on this issue and others. As a parent, I also realize I have my own preferences in place for the way our family unit looks. My kids will likely look back and wonder why I implemented certain rules too. And though I still really struggle to understand the legalistic view that comes from a lot of conservative cultures, I am not at all bitter about how I was raised.<br />
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I didn’t get to wear pants like I wanted to until I moved away from home, but that hasn't stopped me from asking questions. A lot of questions.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Which brings us to the entire point of this post.<br />
<br />
When I became a mom, I began asking more questions then ever before. I wanted to make educated decisions for my family — Does the safety of a child’s car seat go up with the price, or do they all have to go through the same safety testing regardless of price? Is sunscreen actually causing more harm than good? When is it best to introduce honey and peanut butter into a child’s diet?<br />
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Nobody acted like I was a paranoid parent as I researched these things.<br />
<br />
But when I voiced my hesitation about vaccines with my doctor, I thought I’d never hear the end of it. He made me feel so stupid, like I was a blight to society for even considering a more relaxed schedule. <br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Are some vaccinations truly created with aborted fetal cells,</i> I questioned. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer, but was quick to let me know that if I delayed vaccinations, my child could die, or (maybe worse) be spreading diseases like wildfire.<br />
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His answer didn’t sit well with me. Had he treated me with empathy and respect, I likely would have followed his recommendations. But his blatant disregard for my honest question, sent me deep into researching the topic for myself.<br />
<br />
Boy oh boy, did I learn a lot.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Last year, on June 13th, New York State took away the religious exemption for vaccinations. This caused an uproar in my community and across the state. Over 26,000 kids were kicked out of schools because they weren’t up-to-date on the current requirements. Some of these student had medical exemptions that schools refused to acknowledge. Already injured from vaccinations, their parents would have to risk another reaction, in order for their child to be allowed to re-enter school.<br />
<br />
Our local health department held a few meetings for the Mennonite and Amish in our community to answer questions they might have concerning the new regulations. Even though I am no longer Mennonite, I decided to attend.<br />
<br />
I was frustrated with our current situation, and as always, full of questions.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
In that meeting, a panel of three doctors gave their presentation, and left ample time for Q+A.<br />
<br />
As we asked questions, it felt like I was thrown back into the world of <i>This is How We Have Always Done Things</i>. <br />
<br />
Someone asked about how common adverse reactions to vaccinations are. The doctor went on a spiel about how correlation doesn’t always equal causation. He parroted what I’ve heard other doctors say. When given the example of two young Amish boys whom both had seizures immediately following their intense catch-up schedules few weeks prior, he said they were likely scared of needles.<br />
<br />
When asked about vaccines not being tested to see if they cause cancer, we again were brushed off, basically told that because we are not scientists nor doctors, we likely don’t understand what we are reading...<br />
<br />
Just so you know, on every vaccine insert, section 13.1 states that vaccinations have never been tested to see if they might cause cancer. A lot of them are formulated with harsh chemicals, such as formaldehyde and polysorbate 80, which have been linked to cancer and infertility and chronic illnesses. We have seen things such as autism, childhood cancer, infertility, and autoimmune issues drastically rise in the past thirty years, and yet, when we raise questions — asking why there are no long-term safety studies on vaccinations, and why the entire vaccine schedule hasn’t been tested to see how they all interact with each other — since that schedule drastically increased in the past thirty years as well, we are made to look so ignorant.<br />
<br />
... I don’t think I need to be a doctor or a scientist to realized that the lack of in-depth safety testing is alarming.<br />
<br />
Even though the vaccine insert for the flu shot says that it was never tested for safety on pregnant women, these doctors (and most!) say they would highly recommend every pregnant woman get a flu shot. If someone does miscarry in the months following that shot, of course you can’t question it — correlation doesn’t equal causation.<br />
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“Vaccines are safe and effective. PERIOD.” (Just ignore that long list of potential side effects on the insert your doctor likely didn’t give you to read. Again, you can’t prove that correlation equals causation.)<br />
<br />
Vaccines are a liability-free product. You cannot sue if something goes wrong. There is VAERS — the Vaccine Adverse Events Reporting System. If something does go wrong, doctors are suppose to file a report. The problem I quickly realized in that meeting, is that these doctors wouldn’t acknowledge that something could possibly go wrong. They kept saying over and over again that vaccine injuries are one in a million, that they never see them.<br />
<br />
<i>“The science is settled.”</i> They stated multiple times that day. I am not a smart doctor or scientist, but I did study science in school, and I do remember learning how science is never settled, it’s an ongoing process of continually observing and expanding knowledge. So why can’t we do that with vaccinations?<br />
<br />
I’ve read so many vaccine inserts, and on those inserts, there are long lists of possible side effects. Things I’ve personally experienced as a child; things I see very commonly in children now. I realize you can’t point every ailment back to a vaccination, but because vaccinations are mandatory, even if you or your child does have a reaction to an ingredient in that product, you can’t opt out and still live normally in society. In NY, schools and daycares aren’t allowed to welcome your partially vaccinated or non vaccinated child. There is talk of taking away driver’s license and passports for adults who aren’t up-to-date as well.<br />
<br />
Peanut allergies, eyes going crossed, autoimmune issues, SIDS, chronic ear infections, urinary tract infections — these are only a few of the possible adverse reactions listed.<br />
<br />
These are things I see all the time in children around me.<br />
<br />
If I were taking an allergy med, and two weeks later broke out in hives, no one would call me stupid for saying I had an adverse reaction to that medication. No one would say I was making a poor decision to opt out. Yet, this is exactly what is happening all the time to parents whose children have suffered vaccine injury.<br />
<br />
The question about aborted fetal cells was brought up as well, and the doctor who answered it — a man proud of his Jewish heritage, because he felt like it was so similar our Mennonite background — didn’t deny it. Aborted fetal cells are used in the making of some vaccines. <i>But</i>, he was quick to add, <i>I would much rather live a life of peace with my fellow man here on earth, and answer to my Creator later. </i>I guess that is his call. But for me, I cannot, will not, turn a blind eye to this.<br />
<br />
Brenda, from <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/B_KXdTfgL4j/?igshid=ziqr8vg2iokw" target="_blank">@wildheartalive</a> recently shared a paragraph on this very topic that I think is worthy of noting: “If you think God created the immune system, called it good, then later decided he would need scientists to one up Him with a life saving injection that carried the side effect of a murdered baby, I don’t know what to tell you.”<br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
I left that meeting with more questions than answers. The dots aren’t lining up, and I’m not going to accept that this is the way things are always done. If vaccines are suppose to make kids healthier, why is chronic illness on rise? Why are more and more people suffering with autoimmune issues? Why is infertility an increasing problem? Why is obesity the new norm?<br />
<br />
When most people know that Pharma is corrupt, why are we not allowed to bring into question the one MANDATED product they create?<br />
<br />
I will continue to ask questions.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Before the religious exemption was taken away, I didn’t freely speak up about this issue. I knew where I stood. If people asked, I was honest about how I felt, but I didn’t press it. I wasn’t out to convince everyone to see things my way.<br />
<br />
Now, I have started speaking up. Not because I think people need to agree with me, but because I think people need to be aware of what is happening.<br />
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Whether you opt to fully vaccinate, partially vaccinate, or not vaccinate at all, that <i>should </i>be your choice as a parent. And you should have the freedom to adapt that schedule based on your child’s individual needs.<br />
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When we aren’t allowed to question a <i>mandated</i> product that is <i>liability-free,</i> that doesn’t have nearly enough safety testing, hasn’t been through a double-blind placebo study like other pharmaceuticals, that does impact each person on a different level, and that does go against what a lot of Christians, Jews, Muslims, Vegans, etc. believe is morally right, I do have issue with that, and I will speak up... even though it makes me uncomfortable and unpopular.<br />
<br />
Mandates for children are happening all over this nation. And if Bill Gates gets his way, <a href="https://childrenshealthdefense.org/news/government-corruption/gates-globalist-vaccine-agenda-a-win-win-for-pharma-and-mandatory-vaccination/" target="_blank">mandates for adults are coming next</a>.<br />
<br />
Are you okay with this? I’m not!<br />
<br />
I wrote about this topic before — <a href="http://www.sarahesh.com/2020/01/my-armpits-are-sweaty-i-wish-i-were-8.html" target="_blank">you can read that post here</a> — and I will continue to speak out.<br />
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What is happening now is not okay. Step out of line. Please, if this doesn’t sit well with you, speak up. For your sake, your children’s sake, for the sake of those not yet born!<br />
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What is injected into your body, should be your choice!<br />
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You were placed on the earth for such a time as this. Your voice is important; go use it!Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-62015431823657322862020-02-03T16:53:00.002-05:002020-02-03T16:53:46.928-05:00Dirt is a Four Letter Word<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
My house is dirtier now than its ever been in the seven and a half years that I’ve lived here.<br />
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When Carson was a baby I remember my mom making a comment about that—<i>Just you wait Sarah, some day your standard of what clean is won’t be so high.</i> I kind of scoffed when she mentioned it. And you’ve got to understand, I <i>really</i> value clean and I <i>really</i> value tidy. I think my parents and siblings struggled to live with me because of that. We didn’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on this topic. I felt like life could only enjoyed if there was order—if my house is a wreck, my heart is a wreck too.<br />
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Growing up, it seemed like everyone else took a more whimsical approach to the term <i>ship-shape.</i><br />
<br />
We are in the midst of construction, finishing out our walkout basement. Our two bedroom home is about to double in size! I am eager for the space. I love our house, but we have been near bursting at the seams. And every winter I feel it more and more as the kids grow and our house does not.<br />
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I am sitting here trying to ignore the dust as much as one can ignore the dust, when it is that film of dust that causes sneezing and an itchy nose. I’m ignoring it because just yesterday I sort of cleaned. And the day before that too. And, honestly, the day before that too.<br />
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Yes, my mom was right. My standards are slipping.<br />
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<i>It’ll be worth it in the end</i>, I repeat to myself again and again and again.<br />
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...</div>
<br />
Pinterest has been a dear friend during this project. I am looking at these photos for inspiration: <a href="https://pin.it/wztvdbpwr2vmpa" target="_blank"><b>the boys room</b></a>, <a href="https://pin.it/urz77mkssjzn7a" target="_blank"><b>the bathroom</b></a>, and the <b><a href="https://pin.it/a2bjctjy3lebg5" target="_blank">living area</a> / <a href="https://pin.it/kkoraqwaoxcyef" target="_blank">school room</a></b>. I want the basement to feel warm and welcoming, but also bright and clean. And yes, both are possible together, I am sure of it.<br />
<br />
I am not much of a movie watcher, especially not in theater. But I recently saw <a href="https://www.focusfeatures.com/harriet" target="_blank"><b>Harriet</b></a> and <a href="https://www.littlewomen.movie/" target="_blank"><b>Little Women</b></a> on the big screen, and let me tell you, I want to watch them both again when they come out. If you need a good movie, they’re solid choices.<br />
<br />
There are thousands of good books out there waiting to be read. I try to always have at least one title I’m working my way through. <b><a href="https://amzn.to/37T5NPO" target="_blank">Atomic Habits</a></b> was very good—with lots of principals I want to try applying to the way I run my business and order my life. Next time I’ll have a highlighter in hand and take some notes. But as much as I love business books, I love fiction a little more. I read <b><a href="https://amzn.to/38YA0gi" target="_blank">Where the Crawdads Sing</a></b> nearly a year ago, but I borrowed it from the library again, because next week we are heading north for our annual winter vacation, and while we are hunkered down in our AirBnB I want to get lost in its pages all over again.<br />
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My friend Lara sent me this podcast recommendation: <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/4RVAv8IK4vWARCmRP18f8D" target="_blank">Fight Hustle, End Hurry</a></b>. She wanted to hear my thoughts on it once I listened to the series. To be honest, I wanted to binge listen after I finished the first episode, but what’s the hurry? why hustle my way through? (Laughing at my own joke here...)<br />
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In February I am challenging myself to get dressed and do my makeup every weekday. I’ve been in a top knot and yoga pants rut. My days are spent at home with my kids and I’ve become lazy—it often doesn’t feel worth the effort it takes to get ready for the day if I am not going anywhere. But I know I feel better about myself if I take time to look presentable, hence the challenge. If you want to join in, visit <i><b><a href="http://www.instagram.com/saraheshwellness">www.instagram.com/saraheshwellness</a></b></i>. There are prizes involved!<br />
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I weaned my baby last month. It was kind of bittersweet. I wasn’t fully ready for this, I nursed my other two until they were both at least two years old. But we were traveling without the kids, and it made sense to do it before the trip. For the first time in a long time, I am able to get dressed without thinking through outfit logistics. It’s so fun to be able to wear dresses or tops without considering whether they’re nursing friendly. I absolutely love the brand ABLE. I have a referral code that I shared around Christmastime. It gave the buyer a discount on their purchase, and I got rewarded for referring them. I was able to get <b><a href="https://www.livefashionable.com/collections/new-arrivals/products/sangeeta-mock-neck-dress?variant=31653828657232" target="_blank">this dress</a></b> with the referral credit, and let me tell you, I AM IN LOVE! The knit material is thick, it doesn’t show every bump and bulge, and the dress is modest without being prudish. It’s not at all frilly, which is Brooklyn’s preference, but she gave the dress a raving review when she saw it on me. And let me be clear: If she hated it, she would surely let me know. (Want to shop ABLE? Use <b><a href="http://referral.livefashionable.com/3dekhSTa?smile_ref=eyJzbWlsZV9zb3VyY2UiOiJzbWlsZV91aSIsInNtaWxlX21lZGl1bSI6IiIsInNtaWxlX2NhbXBhaWduIjoicmVmZXJyYWxfcHJvZ3JhbSIsInNtaWxlX2N1c3RvbWVyX2lkIjoxNjk2ODk1MjV9" target="_blank">this link</a></b> to save $$$)<br />
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Okay, enough chatting for one day!<br />
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Xo,<br />
SarahSarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-54205867048913877632020-01-23T16:56:00.001-05:002020-01-24T11:02:08.148-05:00My Armpits are Sweaty<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsWDDS8WEqS0g6iWOWUyGyXqEg4D4cLMcN0ESYBj3BzYqjX1eppSk01tlMrwqTGyUSKFNQ9XkLE1uou_lczepCww6sTM_zgqhEJ4bPdwbHuDdGe5bcE5x3p418SRg71dPZBZCj07JXkj-/s1600/07C96D9A-75FD-4681-8E14-C59F57BBBD09.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1456" data-original-width="1092" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsWDDS8WEqS0g6iWOWUyGyXqEg4D4cLMcN0ESYBj3BzYqjX1eppSk01tlMrwqTGyUSKFNQ9XkLE1uou_lczepCww6sTM_zgqhEJ4bPdwbHuDdGe5bcE5x3p418SRg71dPZBZCj07JXkj-/s320/07C96D9A-75FD-4681-8E14-C59F57BBBD09.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You know how so many people will ask a question on Facebook and say, “Cute photo for attention” because it really has nothing to do with the post, but they still want to spark conversation. Well, this is a photo for attention.<br />
I don’t smoke but I am about to ask you a question. </td></tr>
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I’ve missed this space. I miss the late-nighters when inspiration is flowing and I don’t have to work hard to string words into sentences. I miss the clarity that writing brings to my mind. This space was my favorite hobby for so long, and I’m sorry I abandoned it. But I’ve also craved privacy, especially last year, when it felt like I was very misunderstood by friends and strangers alike on topics I’ve been so passionate about.<br />
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<i>Do you ever feel like that?</i><br />
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Sometimes I wish I could jump back in where I left off—back when life felt easier—biking around the lake with Carson in tow, running races, and checking things off my <a href="http://www.sarahesh.com/2014/11/23-before-24.html" target="_blank">23 before 24 list</a>. I think I was pretty oblivious to life outside my every day moments, which was likely both a blessing and a curse.<br />
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Sometimes I wish I could jump back in and share everything currently on my mind with all the honesty and bluntness of an Ennegram 8. (A personality type I am not, but sort of wish I were.)<br />
Now I need to work hard to notice the little every day moments, because too often I miss them, I’ve been so distracted with what is happening politically in New York and across the nation.<br />
<br />
I voted last year for the first time in my life.<br />
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I’m sort of embarrassed to admit that truth. I never really saw the importance of voting—when typically the leading candidates are all horrible options—until medical freedom was at stake, and then stripped away.<br />
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<i>Did I tell you I’m a homeschooling mom? </i>I swore I’d never been one, but last year I wasn’t given a choice.<br />
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I love to read.<br />
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One of my favorite topics: World War 2. Fiction, memoirs, biographies, I’ll devour them all. One of my dearest friends survived war-torn Germany. She is my hero, proof that hard times don’t have to turn you bitter, and she is also the reason I’m so keen on learning all I can about the era.<br />
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I read a fiction book last week, <a href="https://amzn.to/3aC6myZ" target="_blank">Cilka’s Journey by Heather Morris</a>. I couldn’t put it down, and when I finished the last page, I began to google information about the real Cilka and the labor camp she spent years of her life at, after already surviving Auschwitz, which was an actual hell on earth.<br />
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Books like this give me a warped sense of security. History repeats itself. Cilka survived; I will survive.<br />
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Have you ever read the about Germany right before the war? Do you know what was taught in schools and heavily pushed and promoted?<br />
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<b>Sexual promiscuity was encourage.</b> (Have you seen the bills on <a href="https://www.nysenate.gov/legislation/bills/2019/s4844?fbclid=IwAR2Duq61hdVEyrPEM1AsCoYHhYi9LTwROQKMqT-2bpNOcwrVB3G2NWB7PDs" target="_blank">Sex Ed in NYS</a> right now? If you aren’t already talking to your kindergartener about sex, you might want to start — or the school might beat you to it. Hint: The language in this bill is mild, but what your third grader is going to be learning if this bill passes is not mild.)<br />
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<b>Lying to your parents or family was encouraged </b>for the sake of loyalty to your country and for the “common good”. (Have you read the articles on how to hide your <a href="https://www.wikihow.com/Get-Vaccinated-Without-Parental-Consent" target="_blank">medical history from your parents</a>? You can get anything from an HPV vaccine or birth control or an abortion without them ever knowing—and there are lots of articles online on just how to do it.)<br />
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<b>Propaganda was rampant about Jews spreading infectious diseases</b> like typhus, even if they didn’t have it. (Have you seen what is happening in NYS right now? Doctors offices and schools and daycare centers are kicking families out if they choose not to vaccinate. And sites like <a href="https://www.parents.com/parenting/better-parenting/advice/should-you-ban-unvaccinated-kids-from-your-home/?fbclid=IwAR12KT0VMlsPC8_xe_zF50nC14SnEbqCUN9dPMFVggF1AYmEIAHtZU5StQo" target="_blank">Parent.com spreading propaganda</a>, with articles saying you shouldn’t allow your child to be with a non vaccinated child because, you know, they are spreading measles, even when they don’t have it.)<br />
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<b>In concentration camps they forced medical procedures on the inmates and used them as safety trials for new medications.</b> (Have you seen what happened in CA and NY? Are you paying attention? You don’t have much say in whether you choose to vaccinate or not. And have you seen the long term safety studies on those forced vaccinations? No? Let me tell you why: <a href="https://www.icandecide.org/lawsuits/" target="_blank">It’s because YOU are a part of the safety trial</a>.)<br />
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<b>Censorship was everywhere.</b> (Search #vaccineinjured on Instagram or Facebook. We are being heavily censored too.)<br />
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There is nothing new under the sun.<br />
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I’ve had people ask me why I care so much about this topic. I really want to ask the reverse. No matter your stance on vaccines, if you aren’t paying attention and speaking out about these mandates, why? How much of your freedom are you willing to give up? I heard a politician say he thinks the government should have a say in family planning for American families to help curb over-population. If the government can take over this aspect of our lives, forcing a liability-free biologic on our children, I don’t doubt for a second they’d try to control the amount of children we have too. Would you speak up then?<br />
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I used to wonder how things like slavery or the Holocaust happened? Why didn’t people take a stand? I see now though, that it happened because of indifference—something I’ve been guilty of—because people saw injustice but weren’t directly impacted by it, so they didn’t act on it.<br />
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[NOTE ADDED FOR CLARITY: A reader reached out to me, uncomfortable by my comparison of the horrors of slavery, the holocaust, and segregation with medical mandates like vaccines, because one is based on something you cannot control, like race or skin color, and the other is based on something you choose to opt out of, like vaccinations. I really value her input, which is why I am adding this clarification. I am not here trying to make these appear “equal”. My point is this—all of these things were/are unjust. Harriet Tubman could have lived a quiet life as a free woman when she escaped slavery, but she saw an injustice and said ENOUGH. Corrie ten Boom could have ignored what was happening to her Jewish neighbors, but she saw an injustice and said ENOUGH. Rosa Parks could have given up her rightful seat so as not to cause a stir, but she saw the injustice of the situation and said ENOUGH. These women all stepped out of line, breaking the law in order to bring justice. Yes, I have the “choice” to opt out of a mandate because I am able to homeschool, but a lot of families in New York State don’t have that option. It is more expensive than public school, and it is a big time commitment, that isn’t easy, especially for a single parent or family where both parents work full time. There are special needs children though, one in my neighborhood, who had valid medical exemptions, but this year were kicked out of school too. They had horrible reactions from vaccinations in the past, yet they can’t attend school unless they are willing to risk another reaction (which could mean death). Tell me, what kind of “choice” is that? I am not comparing one horror to another, I am saying STEP THE HELL OUT OF LINE! Both healthy and immunocompromised kids are being kicked out of school, private Amish schools are being forced to close down because of “public health” even though they aren’t open to the public, and there is talk of detention centers and a non-vaccinated registry—yellow star of sorts—so that people can avoid (or bully and shame) anyone not complying.]<br />
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A new kind of segregation is back in school; 26,000 children are not legally allowed to attend any school, public or private, across the state.<br />
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Truth will always prevail—but it’ll show itself sooner if people would speak up immediately when things are out of sort.<br />
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Step out of line.<br />
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<i>I am fighting. Are you?</i><br />
<h4>
<br />“First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.<br />Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— because I was not a trade unionist.<br />Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.<br />Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”</h4>
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(This quickly turned from a brief update to a mind-dump. This is the refined version of what has been playing in my head ever since June 13th, 2019, the day dishonest legislators bribed a vote, and my life turned upside down. The real, unedited version is very crude — because I cuss a little (actually, a lot) and I call people out for being two-face. But I not an Ennegram 8; I care too much about what people think of me to share the real, real. It’s a good thing I have a natural deodorant that works. Even sharing this is causing my armpits to sweat.)<br />
<br />Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-24057053874120550712019-09-09T21:08:00.000-04:002019-09-09T21:08:24.719-04:00Becoming What You Behold<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Are you still finding time to write? </i></div>
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I've been asked this question multiple times in recent months. I guess if quick Instagram captions count, then yes, I am still writing. But I don't think they really count--not when I've hoped and dreamed that one day I'd be able to build a career by stringing words together. Not when I thought maybe blogging regularly would lead to a book contract or some freelance work. </div>
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One Sunday morning a few months before my 26th birthday, I was out walking. It was the first time that week that all was quiet, and without distractions of laundry and dishes and unfinished work, without the demands of my kids, I was finally able to think. I got a bit reflective, likely because of my upcoming birthday, the turn of a new year.<br />
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I was mentally organizing my life, which is rather like sorting through a jumbled sock drawer--missing pairs, holes in the heels, material stretched past the breaking point, and the ones reached for again and again because they fit well. In all of that sorting, I was deciding what I really liked in life, the things that seem to fill my soul, and what I should maybe put an end to, even if only for a season. It was in that, that I began to cast vision for my blog again, working a plan in my head for content and structure, figuring out how I could prioritize it. </div>
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And while I was pregnant in the figurative sense, growing and nurturing new ideas for this blog that I loved so much, what I didn't yet know was that I was also physically pregnant, my body growing and stretching to nurture new life.</div>
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Perhaps needless to say, that physical pregnancy made me hit pause on any writing dreams. My third pregnancy was hard. It left my body aching and drained, my mind a complete lack of creative mush. And once the pregnancy was over, I discovered my third newborn was also hard. Colicky and often inconsolable, it took all that I had to keep him comfortable, to get him to sleep. </div>
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At some point during all of this, I was talking to a friend who also asked the question, <i>are you still finding time to write? </i>When I told her that those days where I use to regularly make time to write seemed like vague memory, she said something that stuck with me. She said perhaps what I was currently living out what I would later write. That this season, where it seemed like nothing was accomplished because I was being stretched thin by the demands of my family, the routine mundane that I felt I couldn't escape, was perhaps going to be the seed in which a career would grow, that maybe my call right now was to simply be faithful. </div>
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I've drawn myself back to her words again and again. Because my dreams are still there, but they seem impossible.</div>
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<i>Simply be faithful.</i></div>
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We are beyond the tireless evenings of constant crying, thank you Jesus! And right before my eyes, my baby is becoming a toddler. But I still feel like I am in the weeds, trying to find a path as we delve into the unexpected world of homeschooling, figuring out what that will look like for our family. Consequently writing is still very much on hold.</div>
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<i>Simply be faithful.</i><br />
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<i>...</i></div>
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This summer I had the privilege to be part of another book launch for Ruth Chou Simons, the author my one of my favorites, <b><a href="https://amzn.to/34x1iZS" target="_blank">Gracelaced</a></b>. I've been working my way through her new book <b><a href="https://amzn.to/2ZJRTi1" target="_blank">Beholding and Becoming: the art of everyday worship</a> </b>for the second time. Her words are filled with both truth and grace and she always points back to God's faithfulness in every situation. This week I was listening to a podcast interview and was struck by Ruth's story, which was very similar to what my friend said is perhaps happening in my life. Ruth kept reiterating <i>be faithful</i>, in the mundane, in the ordinary -- you become what you behold, so set your sights on worshiping Christ in the everyday, and that will impact the trajectory of your life. If you haven't already discovered her work, I highly, highly recommend you check out her new book. It is worth buying a copy all your own!</div>
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And if like me, you've got dreams that feel darn near impossible that times, perhaps you too need to simply plant a seed and faithfully tend the soil. To quote lines from both of those book I mentioned, You Don't Have to be Blooming to be Growing, and You Become What you Behold.<br />
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Don't lose hope.<br />
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<div>
xo,</div>
<div>
Sarah</div>
Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-15521169367641816852019-08-06T08:05:00.000-04:002019-08-06T08:05:04.744-04:00This One is for Lincoln<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span id="goog_560955491"></span><span id="goog_560955492"></span><br />
<br />
There is a little boy, close in age to my Carson, whose story tugs at my heart. He was diagnosed with brain cancer the same month my childhood friends lost their mom to it. I have been following his journey with more empathy and compassion than I would have, had the pain and heartache caused by cancer not been so fresh on my mind.<br />
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He is a fighter; he needs a miracle.<br />
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About a week and a half ago his family received hard news, things aren't looking so good.<br />
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Their focus now: to make him as comfortable as possible and make as many memories with him as possible, while still praying, pleading, for a miracle. (<a href="https://www.beautycounter.com/sarahesh/social/KBGIrJjK06eJaigq0yyc" target="_blank">Follow his story here</a>.)<br />
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My heartaches, I cannot fathom what his parents, Kaitlyn and Matt, are going through.<br />
<br />
This month I decided to donate the commissions I make through my <b><a href="https://www.beautycounter.com/sarahesh" target="_blank">Beautycounter </a></b>business to the Schrock family to use wherever and however they need it. It only seemed fitting, as Lincoln--though he didn't realize it--played a part in my decision to switch to safer products when it came to skincare and beauty and cleaning and laundry for my own family. It was his story, in part, that led me to join Beautycounter.<br />
<br />
If you have been considering placing an order, could this be your month? If you've ordered in the past and want to eventually replenish your supply, could this be your month?<br />
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Every little bit counts -- six days into the month and I have been completely astounded at the orders rolling it. Let's keep that momentum going!<br />
<br />
To make the deal even sweeter, <b><a href="https://www.beautycounter.com/sarahesh?goto=/" target="_blank">Beautycounter's Friend's + Family </a></b>event is happening now, August 6 -12. Purchase now to receive 15% off your entire order! (Some exclusions apply.) If you need suggestions on where to begin, I would love to help you out.<br />
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Perhaps Beautycounter isn't your thing? You can still get involved by donating to their<b><a href="https://www.gofundme.com/funds-for-lincoln-neuroblastoma" target="_blank"> GoFundMe</a></b> page.<br />
<br />
Thank you for helping me raise money to send to this dear family. I truly am grateful.<br />
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This one is for you, Lincoln. <3Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-82277738362633300372019-05-31T23:04:00.004-04:002019-05-31T23:04:49.049-04:00A May Post in Nearly June<br />
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<br />
Less than two hours away from failing my New Years goal, I am.<br />
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One blog post a month. How is it so dang hard?<br />
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Where did May go? I know I sound old, but time really does fly. It was a full month, but I think I say that about every month. Weather in New York is FINALLY feeling like summer. Mother's everywhere are rejoicing. Warmer weather is a miracle worker; at last bored kids needn't pick on their sisters and can instead be outside picking on their dogs.<br />
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I planted garden this week. I don't love it, growing vegetable to can or freeze, there are so many other things I'd rather do. I recently listened to a <b><a href="https://goop.com/the-goop-podcast/how-soil-health-is-reflected-in-the-gut/" target="_blank">podcast</a></b> though that has me rethinking my stance. I've been intrigued with learning about the microbiome and gut health, and apparently the bacteria in our soil plays a huge role in that.<br />
<br />
Along that note, I've been learning and sharing about safer beauty over on this <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/saraheshwellness/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></b> page. It's crazy to me that while the European Union has over 1,400 chemicals they've banned from personal skincare and beauty products, and Canada has over 600, the USA only banned 30. There are ingredients in the products we use daily that disrupt hormones, are linked to cancer, are allergens, and known toxins, yet because of faulty regulations that haven't really been updated since the 1930's, the FDA has little say in what is allowed to be marketed to the public as "safe". I would love to see that changed, which is one of the reasons I use and promote <u><a href="https://www.beautycounter.com/sarahesh" target="_blank">Beautycounter</a></u>.<br />
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(I am planning to some day post about my favorite cleaner, safer products. But if you'd like a good list now, <b><a href="https://inhonorofdesign.com/2019/05/pregnancy-safe-skin-hair-and-personal-care-favorites/" target="_blank">In Honor of Design</a></b> has an excellent list.)<br />
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This month, over on my <a href="https://www.instagram.com/saraheshwellness/" target="_blank">Beautycounter Instagram</a> page I hosted a movement challenge to encourage women to get out and exercise more. My personal goal was to do an intense workout four times per week, and get five runs in. Alone. Without kids.<br />
I almost accomplished that goal. I have less than one hour and a half to get that final run done. But who runs at midnight? The achiever in me wants to hop on the treadmill and do it, but the weary mom in me says that maybe accomplishing the blog post is enough. You can't win them all.<br />
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I asked my friend Shelby, who is a personal trainer at a local gym, to put together a four week workout plan for me to do through the month of May. My goal was strength training and muscle building. Holy cow, was it good. I was able to do the workouts at home, and they were customized to the weights and equipment I have (which isn't much). I don't know if I lost or gained pounds; I don't own a scale and probably never will, but I am pretty sure I lost some inches. I didn't measure myself before starting, but my shorts and jeans are all fitting looser, and the baby pooch that I was about to chalk up as something that was here to stay, said good-bye. I am planning to keep on going with that workout plan, even though it causes me to drip in so much sweat I could be watering house plants with it. If you'd like to learn more about the workout plans she offers, connect with Shelby<b> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/shelbysmoker/" target="_blank">here</a>.</b> It's worth it!<br />
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I didn't run today, nor did I workout. I tried, but a needy child woke shortly after I did, and I decided maybe she needed snuggles more than I needed to cross off goals. But I gave my house a good cleaning, like washing finger prints from walls sort of cleaning. (Please don't look too closely, they've reappeared again. Thanks offspring!) And I met a friend and together we went for a walk. That should count for something, right?<br />
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Then night we went to a local brewery for pizza and live music. Hello summertime. I love you.<br />
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Okay... This feels like a half-hearted attempt at keeping a goal alive, but I am going to call it good enough. I'm exhausted and midnight is coming.<br />
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Goodnight May.Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-52487946318713077152019-04-11T16:47:00.001-04:002019-04-11T16:59:28.021-04:00What Should I Write About, Post No. 1I reached out on Instagram last week, asking for blog post ideas. I've been out of this writing space for so long, and felt like I needed a few prompts to help get me started again. The response was amazing, I got multiple suggestions that make me really excited to work my way through the list.<br />
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Today, the first post in a series of posts I am going to title, <i>What Should I Write About</i>, is all about <b>finding contentment in the house that you have</b>. </div>
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When this suggestion came in, I knew I wanted to tackle it. Not because I have this all figured out, but because lately I've been struggling to find contentment in my house... how timely.</div>
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For those you might not know, my husband bought the house we live in before we met. He was from Pennsylvania, and while the house he bought is in the same area of New York that I grew up in, I was living in Jamaica at the time. </div>
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As the story goes, the weekend he had closing on the house was the same weekend I moved back to the States. We had a lot of mutual friends, including a couple whose wedding we were both invited to. Herm came to New York that weekend not only to close on this house, but also attend their wedding. We ended up sitting across from each other during the reception, and even though I was only nineteen and had sworn off trying a relationship again until I was at least twenty-five, I left that night with a knowing that he was going to be my husband. Sure enough, thirteen months later we were married.</div>
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Back to the house that he had bought -- It was a complete dump. The family who lived here before had not cared for things well. The entire place wreaked of smoked, and it was easy to see how they had their living room furniture set up due to cigarette burns in the carpet, a convenient ashtray when lounging on a recliner. No one had lived in the house for months, but they generously left meat in the fridge, which was set at a temperature warm enough to allow slow fermentation. Can you imagine the smell?</div>
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Thankfully Herm had a lot of help from his family, and before we really got to know each other well, the house had be thoroughly cleaned and everything painted. </div>
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It was still very much a 'man-cave' before we got married. After our wedding, I began making it more homey. I repainted a lot of those house to colors that were more neutral, and together we worked on projects like remodeling the bathroom, painting the kitchen cabinets and counters, eventually, replacing the awful carpet with wood floors, updating hand-me-down furniture with fun Craigslist finds, and building the deck of Herm's dreams (in this case, the cobbler's family actually owns shoes).</div>
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Our house is cozy and welcoming. But sometimes I have a hard time remembering that.</div>
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It is small, and our family keeps growing. The cabinets and walls that looked so fine four years ago with their temporary improvements of paint and creative love have aged, a patina of finger prints and knicks and wear. It is easy to look around and see the imperfections, to look around and compare what I have with what everyone on Instagram has, it is easy to before I know it find myself discontent.</div>
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I don't have answers on how to always be content. That is not what this post is. But, I do have a few things I personally do to find contentment when I struggle with feeling lack in my home.</div>
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<b>1. Look through old photos to see what our home looked like, and what it has evolved into.</b></div>
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It happened, a slow morphing process of time and creativity and resources, gradually forming into what it is now. In all honesty, I am so grateful we weren't able to do everything all at once before getting married. My personal style has morphed and changed with time. Looking through old photos I can see the love that was put into each and every step of the way. Our house isn't complete, and as long as we are living here, I don't think it ever will be. Isn't that beautiful?</div>
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(Want to see pictures from the early days? <b><a href="http://www.sarahesh.com/2016/12/the-fixer-upper-house-on-fixer-upper.html" target="_blank">Click here</a></b>.)<br />
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<b>2. Learn to see beauty in imperfections.</b></div>
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Myquillyn Smith, from the blog <b><a href="http://thenester.com/" target="_blank">The Nester</a></b>, and author of the books, <b><a href="https://amzn.to/2X1CyV5" target="_blank">The Nesting Place</a></b> and <a href="https://amzn.to/2X1ehhO" target="_blank"><b>Cozy Minimalist Home</b></a>, has a quote I love:<i> It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful. </i>Finger prints, dinged drywall, paint chipping away from my counter top... it doesn't have to be perfect. It still is beautiful.</div>
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<b>3. Allow change to happen.</b></div>
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I don't think contentment means that you can never improve on things. I always have a running list of things I'd like to change, implement or improve. I love putting thought and creativity into making our house not only functional, but also beautiful. However, it is important to be grateful for the process and to work within your means. Allow change to happen, but remember, it often happens slowly, and that's okay.</div>
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<b>4. Be grateful.</b></div>
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When I am not feeling contentment, it is often because I don't feel gratitude for what I do have, or because I feel entitled to more. It helps me to make a list of the things I am grateful for when I feel discontentment creep in. </div>
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<b>5. Shop My Home First</b></div>
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And finally, when I feel discontentment creep in and linger around, I like to shop my own home first, before heading to the store. Often, freshening things up and rearranging a bit can make a space feel new and exciting without feeding the discontentment bug new things. And, if I am going to spend a little on something new, fresh-cut flowers, even though they wilt and fade, are a wonderful option for adding cheer.</div>
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<b>Now it's your turn: Tell me how you work at feeling contentment in the house that you have.</b></div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-78229191369931794182019-04-09T06:41:00.001-04:002019-04-09T06:41:56.058-04:00The Friends + Family EventThere is some exciting stuff happening with Beautycounter this week, so if that interests you, keep reading!<br />
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Their rare Friends + Family event is going on April 9 - April 15, with almost everything marked at 15% off (some things, link product bundles, are excluded). I've heard that this event has only happened three times in six years.<br />
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In addition to their sale, I am hosting my launch social, and anyone who orders through the link I am going to share will be entered in to a drawing for some free Beautycounter product credit!<br />
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Are you curious? Shop <b><a href="https://www.beautycounter.com/sarahesh/social/517239?goto=/customer/account" target="_blank">this link</a></b>, or reach out to me and I'd be glad to help you get started.<br />
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Have a wonderful day!<br />
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<br />Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-89766559473648873202019-03-29T20:26:00.001-04:002019-03-29T20:26:12.762-04:00In the Nick of Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A New Years goal: Write one blog post per month.<div>
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Easy-peasy.</div>
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Yet, three months in, and I've nearly failed. That's about right, right? I think statistics say most people begin to fizzle out, completely abandoning their goals altogether by the end of March. </div>
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I've tried multiple times--late at night, during nap time, immediately after breakfast and before the first hangry call for a snack twenty-three minutes later--but thoughts are jumbled and words don't flow.</div>
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A want-to-be writer. An amateur, that's what I am. </div>
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So, instead of getting a well-thought through post, which is what I really was hoping would happen with these monthly posts, I'm delivering a hodge-podge of thoughts and happenings, simply because I want to keep this goal of mine alive. </div>
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CURRENTLY</h3>
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I am reading:<a href="https://amzn.to/2HOizpn" target="_blank"> <i>Where the Crawdads Sing</i></a><i> </i>and <a href="https://amzn.to/2HNvgAQ" target="_blank"><i>The Kitchen House</i></a>.</h4>
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My friend Kayla is the world's best resource for good fiction. Whenever I need something new to read but am not sure where to begin, she is the person I'll turn to. I borrowed both of these books from her, and in less than two weeks I had read them through. </div>
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I use to think fiction was a waste of time. How naive and narrow that view. I still read a ton of memoirs, of self-help and motivational, of business books. But when I want to spark creativity, it's to fiction that I turn. I don't think I would be able to pick a favorite, I loved them both for different reasons. I loved the writing style of Where the Crawdads Sing, and The Kitchen House, it's one of those books that nearly moved me to tears.</div>
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Also, not a book but a blog I enjoy: <a href="http://dorcassmucker.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><i>Life in the Shoe</i></a>. </div>
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Her most recent post, <i><a href="http://dorcassmucker.blogspot.com/2019/03/writing-people-off.html" target="_blank">Writing People Off</a></i>, made me chuckle. I am guilty of this too. In my home-school days it was Bill Gothard. He lost me when, in one of his recorded seminars I had to sit through, he said that certain rhythms of music are inherently evil, that all rock music, even if it was Christian worship music, carries demonic messages.</div>
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It happened again a few years later, when I was told by a male peer that because I was a Mennonite girl wearing a head-covering I should NEVER work at a restaurant that serves alcohol, as it would go against what people would assume my stance on drinking is, but that he, because there was no outward indication of his faith or church denomination, certainly would be free to do so.</div>
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Dorcas, author behind that blog is witty and honest. I like that. </div>
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I am loving: <a href="https://www.beautycounter.com/sarahesh?goto=/flawless-in-five" target="_blank">Flawless in Five</a></h4>
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This is a customizable makeup set from <a href="http://beautycounter.com/sarahesh" target="_blank">Beautycounter</a>, a company whose mission is to create high-preforming, safer alternatives to makeup and skincare products. I've been using their products for almost nine months, slowly adding to my collection, a piece here, a piece there.</div>
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The beginning of March I decided to join the company as a consultant. My goal is to switch out all of our household and skincare products to things that are low or non toxic. Beautycounter has been the perfect place to start.</div>
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I created an Instagram account,<i> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/saraheshwellness/" target="_blank">SarahEshWellness</a></i>, to share more about Beautycounter and other safer brands that I've been using and loving. Follow along if you'd like!</div>
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I am dreaming: Of warmer weather.</h4>
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Winter never bugged me. Not until I became a stay-at-home mom. Now though, every February, I start to feel it, those mid-winter blues. It is then that I feel like I need a drastic life change; a new haircut; a home-makeover; and begin contemplating tattoo designs. (I kid. Sort of.)</div>
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Nothing too drastic happened this February. And now we are nearly through March. It's just around the corner, this warmer weather... I keep reminding myself of this. </div>
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<br />I am thinking about: Ricotta cheese on toast.</h4>
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It takes toast, whether sweet or savory, up a notch or two. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and I am not beneath eating it any time of day. This toast, it makes waking up worth it. (Said by an early bird who LOVES waking up. Take it for what it is worth.)</div>
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<h4>
I am listening to: <i><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/relatable-with-allie-beth-stuckey/id1359249098?mt=2" target="_blank">Relatable with Allie Stuckey</a></i></h4>
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I've never been that interested in politics, with its scandals and lies and deceit and slander. But after New York recently changed its laws on abortion, and is so dramatic about vaccinations, I've begun to pay more attention. This podcast is, well, Relatable. :)</div>
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I am watching: Nothing lately.</h4>
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In theory, I wish I would be watching something. But I have the hardest time sitting through anything. B-O-R-I-N-G, I know.</div>
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And it's a wrap: The month of March now has a blog post all it's own. See ya sometime in April!</div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-32750840705039552502019-02-22T17:03:00.000-05:002019-03-02T22:08:15.148-05:00On Growing Faith<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Hey, would you mind calling my phone? I can't find it. </i><br />
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Herm had just returned from running a few errands in town and visiting a job site, Carson and Brooklyn in tow. I find his number in my favorites list--the only one listed there, because he is essentially the only one I call--and hit dial. The phone rings once, promptly going to voicemail.<br />
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Either the phone is turned off, or someone has found it and would like to keep it off.<br />
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Losing a phone is an awful feeling. I lost mine once in Chicago, a few years back. I set it down on a park bench as I stooped to fix Carson's shoe. We walked nearly two miles before I discovered my mistake. Herm called my phone multiple times as we back-tracked the Magnificent Mile, praying we would find it, but knowing we surely wouldn't. In a city of nearly three million, what are the odds a brand new iPhone would still be nestled on the park bench? It was maybe the fourth or seventh or eleven call, I don't remember exactly, when someone answered. <i>Hello?</i><br />
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<i>You have my wife's phone, </i>Herm told the stranger.<i> </i><br />
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<i>I saw it on a park bench, and was going to just leave it there, but then I realized that someone will be looking for this phone. I couldn't access the contacts because of the lock, but I knew someone would call. I'm in town to see The Grateful Dead. </i><br />
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The kind stranger gave us his location. After a few more miles of walking, as we neared the area, a grungy man and his girlfriend, both dressed in black, his tee shirt boasting their love of The Grateful Dead, came over. <i>This has got to be yours,</i> he said, pointing at the phone, its screen displayed a photo of Herm, Carson and I.<br />
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I tried to press a crisp $20 bill into his hand, it wasn't nearly enough to show my gratitude. He wouldn't take the cash. <i>Pay it forward</i>, he told me.<br />
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Two weeks later, I was driving to the mall when I noticed what looked like a phone, laying on the road. I couldn't keep going, pretending I didn't see. I pulled off to the side, and ran back to the intersection. Sure enough, the screen was locked and badly broken. But still, it worked! I tucked the phone into my pocket, knowing this was my chance to pay it forward. A few hours later, after I got the rich privilege of reading a very colorful, one-sided conversation, the owner of the phone called. I answered, and though I wanted to tell him that maybe it would be better not picking up the phone, with its mounting drama, we agreed that I would take it to the service desk of Target. He could pick it up there.<br />
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If I were to lose my phone, I am not sure how I would get through folding laundry and washing floors. Podcasts help lessen the repetitiveness of house-work. I would survive however, and life would go on. But for Herm, his phone is a tool he uses for work. Being without one isn't an option.<br />
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He made a few phone calls to the businesses he had been to, then went back to physically retrace his steps.<br />
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Meanwhile I gathered Carson and Brooklyn, explaining that we were going to pray that Herm would find his phone.<br />
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<i>Mom, but will Jesus actually help?</i> asked Carson, my inquisitive child. Lately he's been asking me a lot of questions on matters of faith. How a five year old make me feel so inadequate and uneducated, I don't know. But his questions often stump me.<br />
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<i>Well,</i> I stuttered for a reply,<i> if He feels like it, I suppose....</i><br />
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<b><i>Oh ye of little faith.</i></b><br />
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Was that the Spirit I heard whisper in my ear? <i>Okay then, </i>I retort back, <i>I will change my answer under one condition: You don't turn me into a liar!</i><br />
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<i>Yes Carson, Jesus will make sure that your dad finds his phone. </i>I wanted to cross my fingers behind my back, like I did when I was seven and didn't want my conscious seared for telling a little white lie. But, like a grown-up with faith the size of a mustard seed, I left them uncrossed, hands in front of me.<br />
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An hour later Herm returned.<br />
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<i>Did you find your phone?</i> I ask.<br />
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He begins to tell me the story, of how he stopped at every business he had visited earlier. No one had seen it. He goes back to the job site, its not there. In a last ditch-effort, he begins to shovel snow around the spot where he had parked his truck to unload some supplies. He threw each shovel full of snow up into the air, figuring that if the phone had dropped into the snow, he would notice it flying through the air. (<i>And break it, </i>I want to smartly state. But silence is a virtue, right?)<br />
He threw one last shovel-full of snow into the blue sky, and began to walk away when he realize that he had heard something had hit the ground. <i>What was that sound?</i> There, buried back in the snow after a joy-ride on a shovel, a glint of silver caught his eye. His phone, dead from the cold, and <i>not</i> broken from the jostling, was found.<br />
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<i>You better tell you kids, </i>I laugh. <i>They prayed over this phone.</i><br />
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It built my faith, if not theirs. And now, every night since, Carson has something he needs prayer for: a scraped elbow, a runny nose, a broken toe-nail.<br />
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Raising kids is building my faith. <i>Yes, </i>I can confidently state<i>, Jesus will answer our prayers.</i><br />
No fingers crossed.<br />
<br />Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-26327757421558474602019-01-25T15:37:00.002-05:002019-01-25T15:45:11.124-05:00On Trantrums and Travel, On Meals and Marriage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Hey Babe,</i> Herm said, peeking his head in through the cracked door, <i>I am heading to Canandaigua for a bit, and I'd like to take the kids along. Is that okay?</i><br />
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<i>Is that okay? </i>Oh blessed words.<br />
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I was in the midst of putting Jack down for a nap, and from the looks of things, would likely spend the rest of the afternoon contending with Brooklyn. She is pro-choice when it comes to nap time; I am not.<br />
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We had just gotten back from running errands, and Brooklyn, my feisty, spirited child was feeling every emotion. There were tears because I "turned the wrong way" and drove right on passed Aldi, there were tears at the drive-thru when I opened the little cylinder container and sent our checks into the bank before she had a chance to ask if she could do it. There were tears when she realized our favorite bank teller wasn't there to say hi to (or get a lollipop from), and there were even more tears when I told her that even if Ms. Christine was working, an attitude like her current one is never rewarded with sugar.<br />
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When we finally did make it into Aldi the tears kept coming because I put peanut butter in the cart when she wanted to do it... and so on. We still had to stop at the library, where, in that tranquil atmosphere, her lung capacity was sure to break all sound barriers. If we get kicked out of that place someday, it's her fault.<br />
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I absolutely love Brooklyn's strong and fiery personality. I hope she never loses that. But in a two year old, and when you're her mother, it's also utterly exasperating.<br />
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But here I am, home with a sleeping baby--the humming dishwasher and a whirling fan the only background noise I hear. It is lovely!<br />
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Recently Herm and I have been discussing marriage. What makes a marriage good? What makes a marriage great? Perhaps I'll share my two cents on this topics at a later point. One thing I know without a shadow of a doubt though, is that by looking for ways to serve the other person (in other words, make their life easier) the marriage will automatically benefit. So, brownie points for Herm!<br />
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Jumping back into this blogging world feels a bit like trying to walk after riding a horse for a few hours--I still know how but at the moment I'm a bit wobbly. In order to have a successful blog, so many people say that you need to find your niche. I don't have one.<br />
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I like to write about what I like, and I like a variety of things. Which means it's back to the usual again, where I share stories my kids and what we're up to, where I talk about books I am reading, and clothes I am loving, and travel, and how I hate that five o'clock hour when everyone is hungry and I am supposed to do something about it.<br />
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Since I already talked about a kid, let's chat about books: Have you read<a href="https://amzn.to/2sONI2u" target="_blank"> <b>7 Men: And the Secret of Their Greatness</b></a>, by Eric Metaxas? I borrowed it a couple of weeks ago, and am currently working my way through it. It focuses on the lives of seven men who made history. Talk about inspiring you to live a life of greatness! Metaxas also wrote a book called <b><a href="https://amzn.to/2sMq5HC" target="_blank">7 Women: And the Secret of Their Greatness</a></b>. I can't wait to dive into that one too.<br />
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As far as clothes go, I recently bought a pair of <b><a href="https://www.jcrew.com/p/womens_category/denim_jeans/skinny/9-highrise-toothpick-jean-with-exposed-buttons-and-cut-hems/J5866?color_name=medium-repaired" target="_blank">J. Crew High-rise Toothpick jeans</a></b> on Poshmark. I got the curvy version, which has a more narrow waist band. (No more gaping or sagging! Hallelujah!) The curvy style is sold out in stores but the ones I am linking to are still available. I love the rip-and-repair edition because it has the playfulness of destroyed demin, but the sturdiness of regular jeans.<br />
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Travel. I am longing to travel again. Jack's passport came this week, which means, we can now go abroad as a family of five! What a fun thought.<br />
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And speaking of that five o'clock hour: Minor panic until I remembered tonight we are going to my parents for a meal. I don't have to think about it.<br />
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Okay, that's enough jabbering for one day. I'll sign off now. (And take out the trash, because that's what you do to strengthen a marriage. :-) )<br />
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-Sarah<br />
<br />Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-30543107218936071902019-01-19T14:28:00.002-05:002019-01-22T13:22:30.293-05:00New Year, New Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These photos were taken by my friend Lyndsi of LYNDSI Photography. This is one of my favorite photo sessions to date. In spite of the rain and cold, Lyndsi managed, like she always does, to capture a beautiful story through the power of imagery. If you'd like to see more of her work, <i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/lyndsiphotography/" target="_blank">click here</a></i>. </td></tr>
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It's been there for months now, this burning desire to spend time punching keys, arranging letters to form sentences. It's been there for months now, this longing to write.<br />
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So here I am, feeling a bit out-of-sorts, I've been away for so long.</div>
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One of my <b><i><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BsLqB8KB17h/" target="_blank">three goals </a></i></b>for this new year, is to blog at least once per month. In order to jump back into this space, I think I need to update you on the biggest change in our lives!</div>
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So here it goes...</div>
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Since I last wrote, I gave birth to a wonderful little boy named Jack. He's almost seven months old now and is absolutely adored by his two older siblings. Jack attentively studies Carson, learning his tricks, eager to join in his escapades. He loves Brooklyn too, but she overwhelms him with her brisk and wild ways, and he prefers a bit of distance between them. </div>
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Jack, though his personality is sweet and laid back, has been my hardest baby thus far. The first three months he was colicky, at times it seemed like the crying might never end. He eventually out-grew that, but still he isn't very content unless someone is holding him. This has caused the past seven months to feel like a blur in my memory, and has caused me to become extremely grateful for naps, no matter how long they last. </div>
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I am beginning to find my footing as a mom to three... I think. I say this with hesitation, though, because as soon as I find a new rhythm things seem to change. Being a mom is hard and wonderful, equally. It's a paradox of feeling and fact, of smooth sailing and a boat sinking.</div>
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There are days though, when things are going well, and it does feel like I can start to dream audacious dreams again. Sometime in 2018, when I wasn't writing at all, and all of my goals seems at a stand-still, one of my very wise friends said that perhaps what I am learning in the season of raising little kids will be what I am able to later write about. I clung to those words, grateful for that hope. So, here I am, back to writing. I plan to check in at least once a month, because those audacious dreams of mine--dreams of becoming a paid writer!--require mundane faithfulness if they are ever to happen. </div>
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If you're still around, thank you for being here!</div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-42274190680843383472018-05-09T22:00:00.001-04:002018-05-09T22:00:08.114-04:00Staving Artist, a Favorite Local Business + a giveaway<div style="text-align: center;">
This post was made possible thanks to the generosity of<a href="https://stavingartist.com/" target="_blank"> <i><b>Staving Artist</b></i></a>, a local, family owned business that specializes in woodworking with reclaimed products. Photos are by<a href="https://www.facebook.com/lyndsiphotography/" target="_blank"> <b><i>LYNDSI Photography</i></b></a>.</div>
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Our love of the <b><i><a href="https://stavingartist.com/" target="_blank">Staving Artist</a> </i></b>started with a wedding gift. Formed from the metal that once wrapped around a wine barrel, were the letters <i>Esh</i>, our last name. It was thoughtful and unique, a piece that quickly became a favorite decor item of mine. I asked the giver about the gift; she said a friend of hers custom made it.<br />
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About a year later at a local arts festival, as Herm and I were strolling along, we saw a booth with items all made from the wood of old wine barrels, and similar to our sign, there were other things made from metal wine barrel hoops as well. One that stood out to me was the distinctive 'Y' shape of Keuka Lake, the lake we can see from our deck. </div>
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We stopped to chat with the man running the stand, and found out, yes, he was the one who made our sign. The 'Y' made its way home with us -- it's a shape locals know well, and one out-of-town-ers think is simply my take on abstract art. </div>
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Herm found out Dan, the man who is the artist behind the pieces we have, had a <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StavingArtistWoodworks/" target="_blank">Facebook</a></b> page. He followed along there, and for several years, around Christmastime, would contact Dan in order to purchase a few gifts, mostly small tables made from reclaimed barrels, for people he'd done business with during the year. One of those tables, though, managed to escape the gifting process, and now resides with us. Always a conversation piece because of how unique it is.<br />
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Dan, and his fiance, Rachel, opened a storefront along Main Street in Penn Yan. While they no longer make custom names from the metal hoops like the one we were gifted on our wedding day, their product line has exploded, ranging from <b><a href="https://stavingartist.com/products/barrel-bottle-opener-keychain" target="_blank">bottle openers</a></b> and <b><a href="https://stavingartist.com/products/full-stave-presentation-tray-reclaimed-wine-barrel-stave" target="_blank">serving trays</a></b> to<b><a href="https://stavingartist.com/products/custom-built-wine-barrel-steel-stools" target="_blank"> bar stools</a></b> (I wouldn't hate to have two of these for our deck. <i>Herm, are you reading this?</i>) and <b><a href="https://stavingartist.com/products/demi-lune-wine-rack" target="_blank">wine racks</a></b>.<br />
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If you'd like something customized, the <b><a href="https://stavingartist.com/products/custom-painted-wine-barrel-stave-buy-now" target="_blank">staves </a></b>are a great option. We've got one that reads 'Esh Estate'. Our place was pretty much a dump when we purchased it, but Herm always referred to it as our estate, making it sound more regal than it is. Slowly, with a lot of love and a bit of hard work (or maybe a lot of hard work and a bit of love?) our place is turning into that estate we've been dreaming about.<br />
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With an Anthropologie vibe to it, every time I go in their small shop, I leave feeling inspired. (And wishing for more.) </div>
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Recently I've gotten to know Rachel as a friend. So when she approached me about possibly collaborating on a project, immediately I knew my answer was 100%, YES! I love <b><a href="https://stavingartist.com/" target="_blank">Staving Artist</a></b>, the ten plus items I have from their shop is proof. And I'm guessing that you might like them too.<br />
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Rachel brought a whole bunch of their products over to my house, and for the better part of a day, she and I, along with our friend Lyndsi of <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/lyndsiphotography/" target="_blank">LYNDSI Photography</a></b>, styled the products to photograph for their website. It was such fun, not to mention creatively invigorating as well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpeA9Hx-p7qd4yjE5mY_TO7jep-OSRes3qLCbRLaRLn2DX2CGzMBdCbiEfT-CqJT1RDHVDV35daBkTioJr73AfQ4lexidFtgvBs-UBG8q_wwF3Cwo3wTKxCqWxkG92LOreAbs17ZLeQlh/s1600/stavingartist-176.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpeA9Hx-p7qd4yjE5mY_TO7jep-OSRes3qLCbRLaRLn2DX2CGzMBdCbiEfT-CqJT1RDHVDV35daBkTioJr73AfQ4lexidFtgvBs-UBG8q_wwF3Cwo3wTKxCqWxkG92LOreAbs17ZLeQlh/s640/stavingartist-176.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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As part of the collaboration, Staving Artist generously offered one of their <a href="https://stavingartist.com/products/1-2-barrel-head-demi-lune-table-buy-now" target="_blank"><b><i>1/2 Barrel Head Demi Lune Tables</i></b> </a>for a giveaway on my <a href="http://instagram.com/saraheshblog" target="_blank">Instagram account</a>. I don't want you to miss out on a chance to win! So make sure you take a few minutes to enter. The steps are simple, and everything you need to know, you'll find <span style="color: red;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/Bij3oNSA7CR/?taken-by=saraheshblog" target="_blank"><b><i>here</i></b>. </a></span><br />
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In the mean time, you can learn more about <b><i><a href="https://stavingartist.com/" target="_blank">Staving Artist</a></i></b> and see what they have to offer on their website. Also, be sure to follow along on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/stavingartist/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StavingArtistWoodworks/" target="_blank">Facebook</a></b>! If you're ever in the Finger Lakes region, visit the shop at <b>109 Main Street, Penn Yan, NY</b>. You won't regret it!<br />
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-19228929341542655132018-04-03T23:13:00.000-04:002018-04-03T23:13:35.946-04:00Running Naked<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjIwPFIL_Sz9oTUsu0UeF9DHF40r_IVQfWReZm1aqpaPPkXCx05SZUlt267ta8QJhoouxhvcwEogQTA-o3hZZzrXsih1iF_uYiKaW8e0z4w6yWC2F6iX9SwM40EDoj8Fc_NajlaqiQoHS/s1600/IMG_6902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjIwPFIL_Sz9oTUsu0UeF9DHF40r_IVQfWReZm1aqpaPPkXCx05SZUlt267ta8QJhoouxhvcwEogQTA-o3hZZzrXsih1iF_uYiKaW8e0z4w6yWC2F6iX9SwM40EDoj8Fc_NajlaqiQoHS/s640/IMG_6902.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo obviously NOT from today.</td></tr>
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I was stepping out of the shower this afternoon, hair dripping wet, and the house entirely too quiet, when I heard my son yell, <i>"Mom, I got the mail for you!" </i>before slamming the front door and heading back, full tilt, into the afternoon drizzle.<div>
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In a year or two, words like that, I suspect, will fill me with gratitude and pride. Today it wasn't pride that I felt; it was sudden panic and dread.</div>
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I am twenty-seven weeks pregnant. In my current state, energy seems to come and go. When I feel high from it, I seize the opportunity, bulling my way through to-do lists. Because more often than not, I don't feel that high, and simply keeping everyone fed and clothed is a feat worthy of reward. </div>
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<i>Laundry</i></div>
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<i>Clean bedrooms</i></div>
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<i>Sweep + mop floors</i></div>
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<i>Vacuum</i></div>
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<i>Wash windows</i></div>
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My to-do list was fairly simple and straightforward. Once I got started though, I caught a gust of fortitude, determined to spring clean both bedrooms before the mornings end. I washed down the walls and trim, scrubbed window panes, mopped underneath the beds, shook out rugs. Snowballing my way through that list, crossing off even more than I had originally added. By lunchtime I had only to sweep and mop the floors in our main living area, then I was going to call it a day -- fully planning to prop my feet after putting both kids down for naps. They'd sleep for hours, I just knew it.</div>
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You would think I would know by now that sleeping for hours, especially when I really want them to, is never the case. </div>
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Minutes before Brooklyn finally settled, Carson made his escape. He has learned that if he is neither seen nor heard during Brooklyn's nap time, he isn't forced into a quiet time. He had donned boots and a coat and was out in the rainy weather, tousling his dogs.</div>
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In the midst of mopping the last section of floor, he came in, eager to help. Though I wasn't so eager for help, I begrudgingly handed him the mop. <i>How will I ever get him to help with things later on in life, if I don't let him help out now? </i></div>
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Once the floor was dry, I put all the furniture back in place and decided to run the vacuum over the living room rug one final time. That was my first mistake. Blurry eyed and hair a mess, Brooklyn traipsed out of her room, obviously not ready to be awake, though awake nonetheless. It was entirely my fault.</div>
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Sighing, I carried Brooklyn over to the dining room table, where I hoped she'd readily join Carson and his array of play-dough, colors muddled from being mixed. So much for my quiet, peaceful, prop-your-feet sort of afternoon.</div>
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The water in the kettle was near boiling. Even if my feet weren't going to be propped, I was still fully intending to enjoy an iced coffee, the reward of my labor. It wasn't going to be just any iced coffee. It was going to have Kahlua in it. (The alcohol content was hardly noticeable, I promise. But please, don't go telling my midwife.) This was maybe my second mistake. My mom had given this Kahlua to me well before Christmas. I'm not sure if I used it more than a time or two since. I poured a small amount into my cup, before placing the bottle back into the fridge. I don't know exactly what happened next. All I know is the bottle broke, sticky liquid pouring from the fridge door, down onto the freshly mopped floor. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. While I was cleaning up that mess, one of my two kids dumped a glass of milk, simultaneously spilling off the bar stool himself. Nobody was hurt, though by now I was beginning to feel ruffled. </div>
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I slurped my coffee while, yet again, mopping the floor. Nothing savored. Exhausted, this weary mom headed for the shower. By now both kids were playing together back in their bedroom, so obviously I sneaked away, unannounced. </div>
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This was my third and most drastic mistake.</div>
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Now it's back to where this story began. I turned off the shower water, and heard my four year old yelling that he brought in the mail. </div>
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We live in the country, and our driveway is, I'm guessing, 600 feet long. This meant that he went all the way out to the road to retrieve the mail, and where ever he goes, his sister is sure to follow.</div>
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So it was, like I said, with sudden panic and dread, that I hurriedly wrapped my wet body in a towel, its length hardly covering my swollen middle, and rushed toward the door. On the entryway bench sat a few pieces of mail, and with it, a snail. </div>
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I shoved open the front door, and looked left... there, six hundred feet, though it might as well have been six hundred miles, away was my little Brooklyn. On the side of the road. By herself. </div>
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I screamed. It was all I could do, before taking off in a record breaking sprint, toward that child who, unbeknownst to her, was facing sudden death. I did have the wherewithal to grab a winter coat before racing out the door. If I lost my towel along the way, at least the upper half of my naked body would be somewhat covered. </div>
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Brooklyn heard the scream and took my panic for play. A game of tag? She bolted for the middle of the road, laughing as she ran. </div>
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Barefoot, nearly naked and heaving for breath, I grabbed her arm and, not so gently, drug her to safety. Moments later an SUV went by.</div>
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Carson had caught up to me now, and as we headed back in the lane -- that walk of naked shame where I realized what a sight I must be -- I painted the worst possible scenarios in their young minds. Bloody mental images of child-pancakes, smashed onto the road by a speeding car. And I told them of the horrors that would befall their young rear-ends should they ever wander to the road alone again and make it back alive.</div>
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<i>I didn't go alone, </i>Carson said,<i> Brooklyn was with me. And besides, <b>why are you barefoot? </b></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacTNwJm2M70w9ikg2q3g8GwOPeIN48ndj3M5e9a-cf6d13TarLdqnVYvBwKA20irL30CQWh6B0kAq-QNaN7Er0G8clk0HDe1GkNrEx4VXyCjh8W95XkoyxlMuX1U5KHWSEFmuj5FMRkQU/s1600/IMG_6987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacTNwJm2M70w9ikg2q3g8GwOPeIN48ndj3M5e9a-cf6d13TarLdqnVYvBwKA20irL30CQWh6B0kAq-QNaN7Er0G8clk0HDe1GkNrEx4VXyCjh8W95XkoyxlMuX1U5KHWSEFmuj5FMRkQU/s640/IMG_6987.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i><b>***</b></i></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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(If you enjoyed this story which is, unfortunately, completely true, perhaps you'd like <b><a href="http://www.sarahesh.com/2016/03/dear-mom-im-sorry.html#comment-form" target="_blank">this one</a></b> as well.)</div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-33763113801867588832018-02-17T19:40:00.000-05:002018-02-17T19:40:37.013-05:00Three Reasons We Choose to Make Vacation a Priority<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWVuAyxk4uvLg3EJGjQTmiLsyuWK5YmisYzs8G7QqAeG5_Gv6basc9_DIH2TxuVmy8zQyAM7GNUKPk8aRtmyYIhU5wcNVQ-04PEwVc-CRuql5OpNsGrUQozijKOg_LmtF0QKNisra8w9a/s1600/3E1D94EA-66A6-45D9-A061-C7CC0A56EE69.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWVuAyxk4uvLg3EJGjQTmiLsyuWK5YmisYzs8G7QqAeG5_Gv6basc9_DIH2TxuVmy8zQyAM7GNUKPk8aRtmyYIhU5wcNVQ-04PEwVc-CRuql5OpNsGrUQozijKOg_LmtF0QKNisra8w9a/s640/3E1D94EA-66A6-45D9-A061-C7CC0A56EE69.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quebec City, Quebec, Canada</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSPQNBpCr1_-tvz86MGoXFNelYlzUt7mll3HuNDX39wJcH-u80UkjOXkOq3zPC7yqOcGKUFnfy1MZ65N-QufmhZWeJrVRyM3vm2YjG2iY4WS9J05HF8AKn3bAR7pjg-Kdu-6HOkD9AxUU/s1600/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="535" data-original-width="714" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSPQNBpCr1_-tvz86MGoXFNelYlzUt7mll3HuNDX39wJcH-u80UkjOXkOq3zPC7yqOcGKUFnfy1MZ65N-QufmhZWeJrVRyM3vm2YjG2iY4WS9J05HF8AKn3bAR7pjg-Kdu-6HOkD9AxUU/s640/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cascais, Portugal</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZgw4FnuyS8jRnOTc59jwnxecGPTOh99AIY86ipHDS0nMXkgw1EtQRNk6xsHNWTg1esn5MkTJPGMRIS-s2ovw3H5g5Sf0T7WCWV-mISDU9RR8v0XtX0YDE1XDrSfb6EqeSuOb0SHZUnpPO/s1600/DSC00288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZgw4FnuyS8jRnOTc59jwnxecGPTOh99AIY86ipHDS0nMXkgw1EtQRNk6xsHNWTg1esn5MkTJPGMRIS-s2ovw3H5g5Sf0T7WCWV-mISDU9RR8v0XtX0YDE1XDrSfb6EqeSuOb0SHZUnpPO/s640/DSC00288.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Francisco, California</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVclun7OhrcWFK1j-DWJETuIcRCMH-fHpwf9X5mVyw-S__SHNElJ4dsiTnm5bAJEDWDOwOK2zBzE8WR_j4qeyjtDTVM4KmvBj5mSfceCOMf_Z__qNC1l3TRxGWWFqj1h-QOsyDD-eYffT/s1600/12143259_10207498711243148_6901794927919916061_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVclun7OhrcWFK1j-DWJETuIcRCMH-fHpwf9X5mVyw-S__SHNElJ4dsiTnm5bAJEDWDOwOK2zBzE8WR_j4qeyjtDTVM4KmvBj5mSfceCOMf_Z__qNC1l3TRxGWWFqj1h-QOsyDD-eYffT/s640/12143259_10207498711243148_6901794927919916061_n.jpg" width="512" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sintra, Portugal</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXppWIFiZ7c3NPnyNC9dU9Fjq38buOcimv1luE0BhxEQV1FukFjltfFN5KU2DNBFEFa90B9s34gg5xWsartX60v2i4OEK4AXm8GX7O2VS4iBWNcTAx_oJJp9HQmEsXRVaKe6R4sUQng_Ye/s1600/IMG_1429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXppWIFiZ7c3NPnyNC9dU9Fjq38buOcimv1luE0BhxEQV1FukFjltfFN5KU2DNBFEFa90B9s34gg5xWsartX60v2i4OEK4AXm8GX7O2VS4iBWNcTAx_oJJp9HQmEsXRVaKe6R4sUQng_Ye/s640/IMG_1429.JPG" width="512" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paris, France</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgirdaPMiuIFsQNFaTo0ttmvwnP761qGi92QeMQrjlGgwE0fVUDldrFqQXZb7AXmN8RQ-Hh7EYcYKETptVrRm4AUFBYfeO-T7VLBnQTC_O0UrFahsXxdvI-h5DpQr4ezlnGedTU-_SZ2TGH/s1600/IMG_1489+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgirdaPMiuIFsQNFaTo0ttmvwnP761qGi92QeMQrjlGgwE0fVUDldrFqQXZb7AXmN8RQ-Hh7EYcYKETptVrRm4AUFBYfeO-T7VLBnQTC_O0UrFahsXxdvI-h5DpQr4ezlnGedTU-_SZ2TGH/s640/IMG_1489+%25281%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rome, Italy</td></tr>
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Our love story began the very weekend I met Herm for the first time. It wasn't love at first sight, but I remember in the midst of conversation, as we sat near one another at the wedding reception of a mutual friend, a thought popped in my head, seemingly out of no where.<br />
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<i>He is the man I am going to marry. </i></div>
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I had already decided, after being in several relationships that didn't work out, that I wouldn't be romantically involved with anyone again until I was emotionally mature enough to handle it -- say twenty-five perhaps. </div>
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The thought caught me off guard. Herm seemed nice enough, and he did have blue-grey eyes that made it pretty hard to focus on anything else. But I was nineteen, and twenty-five wasn't exactly just around the bend.</div>
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We had a lot of things in common, a love to travel being one of them. We compared notes about countries we visited and placed we hoped to one day see. He told me that Venice, Italy, was a dream destination for him. I mentioned I want to go back to Dubai, UAE, again, because with how amazing the airport itself was, I know the city has to be even more showy. Highest on my bucket list, though, would be Istanbul, Turkey. </div>
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A few short months after that conversation we began a relationship, and thirteen months after meeting, we were married. </div>
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I still remember so vividly on my wedding day someone telling me that now I'd have to settle down. I was a married woman after all, and my days of regularly roaming the world would come to an end. <i>Enjoy the honeymoon! It might be the last trip in quite a while.</i></div>
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What that person forgot to consider was that I was marrying a man who loved traveling as much, if not more, than I do. Our days of traveling <i>alone</i> were over, our chance to adventure together was just beginning.</div>
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In the five and a half years since our wedding, we've taken quite a few trips together, some fairly local, others across the country and half way around the world. </div>
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Often friends and acquaintances ask about our trips. Not nearly everyone understands why we would prioritize vacationing, since it is quite costly. And even more people seem aghast at the thought of traveling across the world with young kids. <i>Wouldn't it make more sense to wait until they are old enough to remember this once-in-a-lifetime trip? Wouldn't it make traveling easier?</i></div>
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I guess the answer to both of those questions could be yes, depending on how you look at it.</div>
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I will admit, because of Herm's business and the amount of supplies and inventory purchased, we are able to quickly accumulate airline miles and hotel stays we earn from our credit card points. Those points toward airline tickets and hotel rooms have played a huge part in us being able to afford the luxury of taking our family on many vacations. But I know that even without those points we would still find a way to travel, to getaway and spend time together as a family. Even on a much smaller scale, that time together, doing something we love as a family, is essential.</div>
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So, to answer that question I've been asked quite often... We Choose to Make Vacation a Priority Because:<br />
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<b>1. Making Memories Together Helps Create a Strong Bond</b><br />
One of the things I have noticed about families that seem to have a close bond is that they've created memories together. That doesn't happen by accident. Life can so easily get in the way, each of us falling into our normal rhythms and routines, that we forget to be intentional about building relationships with the ones we love most. It doesn't have to happen through vacationing, but since traveling is something Herm and I absolutely love, and something our kids are quickly becoming fond of as well, it's where we have decided to be especially intentional about creating memories. </div>
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<b>2. It Broadens Your World View</b></div>
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In addition to creating memories and valuing time spent together as a family, I also believe that traveling (especially when visiting other countries and cultures) creates a broader world view. I want my children to be immersed in worlds much different than their own. I want them to appreciate the many ways people live across the globe. I want them to see the value and beauty in diversity and be able to celebrate that. I want them pushed outside of their comfort zones, immersed in cultures where it seems nearly impossible to communicate because of a lack of common language and have to figure it out. I want them to know what it feels like to be an "outsider". For me personally, living aboard and traveling to many countries where it was obvious that I was a foreigner, has taught me how to be more sensitive to those around me in my own community who might also feel like an outsider.</div>
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<b>3. This World is a Masterpiece Waiting to be Explored</b></div>
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And finally (although, I probably could go on and on) this world is an absolutely amazing and breath-taking masterpiece created by the Master Artist. That, in and of itself, is reason enough to buy a ticket somewhere new and do a bit of exploring. Traveling has a way of making me realize how great and amazing yet small and connected this world and its people are.<br />
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I love visiting new places, meeting new people, and seeing how history can come alive, all from roaming the globe. As I wander, this world never loses its wonder. Traveling with kids, experiencing it from their perspective, has only made that feeling greater.<br />
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I feel it's worth the investment now to travel as a family, even when our kids might only remember the trips from photos. For us, we know it won't be a once-in-a-lifetime trip because we do plan to keep on exploring. It's a lot of extra work, but it's worth it. I promise. If you don't have the means to travel half way around the world, start where you can. Explore your neighborhood, your state, your country.<br />
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Creating memories and being intentional to build close relationships now, when my kids are young, is my way of sowing into what I want our relationships to look like when they leave home. Traveling together, I hope, will only increase that bond.<br />
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<b>Do you vacation as a family? I'd love to hear your thoughts!</b></div>
Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-12199304603822928872018-02-01T22:59:00.000-05:002018-02-01T22:59:41.504-05:00Currently<h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZuBn4WLj9gdtBi_JcTrPHhrQgpHB2DtVZWcYtwVd41ciqfrmEj8Yyo9d_LMx9mXV6yPxpl5lI63X07904jl2ByDmK4aKlngxNxhSXN5Ua9SrZPIA-lCAwtuHt8333ttKAU3qX2kGXPKU/s1600/91251402-6DC3-47AF-8D74-94BBA0D62F90.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZuBn4WLj9gdtBi_JcTrPHhrQgpHB2DtVZWcYtwVd41ciqfrmEj8Yyo9d_LMx9mXV6yPxpl5lI63X07904jl2ByDmK4aKlngxNxhSXN5Ua9SrZPIA-lCAwtuHt8333ttKAU3qX2kGXPKU/s640/91251402-6DC3-47AF-8D74-94BBA0D62F90.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Reading</h3>
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<b><a href="http://amzn.to/2Ezg7hK" target="_blank">Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy</a></b> by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant.<br />
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Recently, while visiting my sister and her husband in their Lancaster City home, I was handed this book and told to borrow it. It took me almost an entire week before I cracked the spine and began to read, but once I started it was only a matter of days before I had finished the last paragraph and told my cousin, who was over for the evening, that she too, needed to borrow it.<br />
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After unexpectedly losing her husband, author, Sheryl Sandberg, was fearful that she and her children would never be able to find true joy again, but instead live with constant trauma and grief. Sheryl's close community of family and friends surrounded her with support, and with time she did begin to experience joy again, along with a new and deeper appreciation for life. In the book, Sheryl shares journal entries which describe the intense grief and isolation she felt after her husband's death. But the book goes beyond Sheryl's loss to share a broad range of traumatic experiences --job losses, death of loved ones, sexual assault, abuse, illness, violence, war-- and the stories of how people have overcome, persevered, and rediscovered joy.<br />
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The book brought me to tears a time or two, as what Sheryl shared about walking through grief felt all too familiar and fresh. But it was excellent, and I highly, highly recommend that everyone read it, whether or not they've lost loved ones or have dealt with personal trauma of any kind. If for nothing else, read it to know better how to respond to others who are currently facing adversity.</div>
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Loving</h3>
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The scalp massage brush I recently purchased (<b><a href="http://amzn.to/2GCe6lA" target="_blank">here is a similar one</a></b>). Pregnancy is a weird and wonderful thing. It's weird in the sense that anything and everything can be a symptom of it. Almost immediately after finding out I was pregnant, my skin suddenly became extremely dry and breakouts popped up, scattering rampantly, as if my face was a canvas for a game of connect the dots. Along with the dry face, my scalp was itchy, my hair constantly carrying its own version of freshly fallen snow. I tried oiling my scalp and rinsing with vinegar. Neither option worked. So one evening I stopped at Sally Beauty and picked up a scalp brush. Within two days the dry, itching scalp was no longer a problem. My hair feels healthy and clean again... Now if only I could find a remedy that easy for my face!<br />
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I am also absolutely loving <b><a href="https://www.dearmushka.com/collections/necklace?page=2" target="_blank">this necklace</a></b>, which my sister gifted me for my birthday. It's from the brand <b><a href="https://www.dearmushka.com/" target="_blank">Dear Mushka</a></b>. Each piece of their jewelry is reflective of scripture and comes paired with a corresponding verse card. My necklace corresponds with Colossians 4:6, which states <i>"Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone."</i><br />
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Dreaming</h3>
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About our upcoming winter vacation. We are doing a repeat of our vacation last year. For those who might not know, every year in February we head NORTH for a few days. Yeah, everyone looks at us with that confused expression you are wearing right now. The whole point is to slow down and spend time together as a family before the spring rush with Herm's work happens. Being snowed in somewhere is a great way to force or encourage rest. We take a stack of books and movies along, as well as all our snow gear, because what is winter without sledding? </div>
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The first year we did this we went to Lake Placid, but every year since we've ventured into Canada, first to Montreal, Quebec, and the next year to Quebec City, Quebec.</div>
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We loved Quebec City so much, we decided to go back. We are renting the same AirBnB again. In less than two weeks we will be heading north. I cannot wait!</div>
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Thinking About</h3>
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How impractical it is to have carpet in vehicles and how ironic it is when people talk about the dangers of social media in an Instagram or Facebook post.<br />
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Listening To</h3>
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So many things! Recently Herm did some renovations to his office. After the work was done, the whole room was coated in an extremely fine, but thick layer of dust. I spent several hours one Saturday cleaning it... It was the sort of dust that resettles once you think the place is clean, immediately looking like is needs cleaned again. Anyhow, eventually it looked presentable. That evening, aching and tired, I walk through the kitchen for a glass of water, and that's when I notice his gift setting on the counter -- an <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2DVL6n8" target="_blank">Altec Lansing bluetooth speaker</a></b>, along with a note of appreciation for the time I spent cleaning. I married a man who notices and appreciates the little things. And needless to day, I am loving that speaker. It's podcasts and music and music and podcasts daily around here.<br />
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Watching</h3>
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My children become the best of friends. A few weeks ago we dealt with an entire week of sickness. It was miserable. As soon as Carson was over the flu, Brooklyn got it, but hers came with a vengeance that left us all feeling a bit miserable and weary. We survived, and a I daresay, we are better for it, because the very next week Carson and Brooklyn started playing well together. No longer do I feel like I need to be a constant referee, intervening and making calls. Every day they surprise me, playing together for hours on end. I think maybe it took a week of sickness for Carson to realize how much he really does like spending time with his little sis. It feels like we are starting a new, fresh chapter, and I think it's absolutely wonderful. </div>
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<b><i>Now it's your turn to share if you'd like. I'd love to hear what you are currently reading, loving, dreaming, thinking about, listening to, or watching. Feel free to drop a comment!</i></b></div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-78940568485464032492018-01-26T22:32:00.000-05:002018-01-26T22:32:06.534-05:00Things I Never Told YouI had to blow dust off this blog before sitting down to write. <div>
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In my head I've got a lot of dreams of what this little space could become, but somehow my priorities aren't aligning with my dreams right now. The lack of activity here as proven that.</div>
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Nonetheless, I am still hanging on to those dreams. In the same way I still consider myself a runner, even though my days of training for races and regularly running three miles before 6 am have all but vanished (okay, completely vanished), I still consider myself a writer; albeit, one who rarely writes.</div>
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I won't allow myself to believe that becoming a mom has stolen that part of who I am. We all make time for what we have chosen to make time for. I could list many excuses, some of them completely valid, as to why I haven't shown up more, but the point is, if I wanted to write bad enough, I would have. </div>
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Discussing my lack of ambition lately isn't why I am here. I'm simply going to update you with some of what has been happening in my life the past while, and from there hope that I begin to show up more often again, so that we don't have to dig into the archives of life to get started the next time.</div>
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Now, on to the <b><i>Things I Never Told You...</i></b></div>
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<b>1. Italy. Been There, Done That. </b></div>
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To celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary this past September, we traveled to Italy, kids in tow, and did a bit of sight seeing. We had layovers in both Paris and Amsterdam, so we took advantage of that as well by spending a day exploring each of those cities. </div>
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Tucked into a notebook, I have a list of over 30 blog post ideas. In the mix are posts I'd like to write about our trip, including detailed ones on Traveling with Kids, How to Backpack for Twelve Days with a Family of Four, Why We Invest in Vacation, and so on. In the probable chance that those posts never see the light of day, enjoy a few photos...</div>
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<b>2. We are Having Another Baby!</b></div>
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If I were to list some of the excuses I've come up with whenever Herm asks why I haven't been writing more (he brings this up frequently, he is my biggest encourage-er when it comes to this blog) the little child I am growing would be one of them. It worked well for the first trimester, when I was exhausted in the afternoon and took naps when the kids did, and again at night, when I tucked myself in immediately after bedtime prayers with Carson and Brooklyn. The second trimester is a different story. That excuse is no longer valid.</div>
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About the baby! goodness, I let myself trail off on that one: I am almost 18 weeks along, which means I am due the beginning of July. We don't know the gender. We don't know if we will choose to find out the gender. We haven't discussed, in detail, names yet. And along with that, we will take any and all suggestions at this point. Naming a child keeps getting harder and harder with every pregnancy. This might have to be the last.</div>
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<b>3. NYC at Christmastime is Magical and Overrated.</b></div>
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My mom and dad graciously watched the kids for a weekend so that Herm and I could enjoy a quick getaway to New York City. We went right before Christmas. It was beautiful and cold and extremely overrun with people wanting to see the tree at Rockefeller. We had fun, but both agreed we enjoy smaller cities much, much better. </div>
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I guess this will do it for now, until next time....</div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-74698808044328961572017-12-11T11:27:00.000-05:002017-12-11T11:27:17.490-05:00Baby Bird<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCGj2XJLd0ao7hdDTxZ_8P1hmXQoHl8jHmJ15eGJ2MExPIwMyBxL2PTQkYdTpiufXqorT4EtRqpo_wuFUOgPRPBWqjqs_oz0gGeq7XnkCOmZw4eVzdWxv4AnXtovEuzg8a8S5drHyvmwU/s1600/Sarah%2526kids11.14-100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCGj2XJLd0ao7hdDTxZ_8P1hmXQoHl8jHmJ15eGJ2MExPIwMyBxL2PTQkYdTpiufXqorT4EtRqpo_wuFUOgPRPBWqjqs_oz0gGeq7XnkCOmZw4eVzdWxv4AnXtovEuzg8a8S5drHyvmwU/s640/Sarah%2526kids11.14-100.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="http://instagram.com/coridana" target="_blank">Corina Miller</a></td></tr>
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It was last summer, around the 4th of July, when Kat, my sister-in-law, first mentioned her dream of opening an online children's boutique to me. In the months since then she's been perfecting her patterns and figuring out what fabrics she wants to use, and today is that day I finally get to tell you all about <b><i><a href="https://www.instagram.com/babybirdsewing/" target="_blank">Baby Bird</a></i></b>, her Instagram shop!<br />
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Kat gifted me several things: two knit skirts, a linen skirt, and a linen pair of jogger style pants, all for Brooklyn. In the past few months those items have become favorite things Brooklyn will end up wearing multiple times each week. </div>
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What I've come to absolutely love about the linen items is that unlike most fabrics, it actually becomes even nicer the more you wear and wash it. The joggers and skirt have both softened up beautifully, they hold up well against an active toddler who seems wear holes in just about everything I put on her, and stains don't stand a chance at ruining the clothes... just soak them in a vinegar/water mixture and almost anything, pizza sauce included, will come right out.</div>
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The knit items are extremely soft. Brooklyn would most likely pick the floral skirt as her favorite out of the whole collection, because as she says, it's so "pudy" (pretty). She can be quite the little Tom Boy, but when it comes to clothes and shoes, she likes a bit of added flounce and sparkle.</div>
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I know I could go on and on about my love for <b><i><a href="https://www.instagram.com/babybirdsewing/" target="_blank">Baby Bird</a></i></b>, but I'd rather let you experience the items for yourself. This week, over on my <i><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/saraheshblog/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></b></i> page, I am giving away $30 in shop credit for Baby Bird to one lucky person. If you go enter the giveaway that person might be YOU!</div>
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And you if aren't the winner, but still would like to experience <b><i><a href="https://www.instagram.com/babybirdsewing/" target="_blank">Baby Bird</a></i></b> for yourself (and I think you should), follow Kat's shop on<i><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/babybirdsewing/" target="_blank"> Instagram</a></b></i>, or email her at babybirdsewing17@gmail.com for more information. </div>
Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-88606575170323312942017-11-30T15:35:00.000-05:002017-11-30T15:39:05.676-05:00Aunt Emma's Famous Waffle Cookies<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>This post was made possible thanks to the generosity of <b><a href="http://oakhillbulkfoods.com/" target="_blank">Oak Hill Bulk Foods</a></b>, who supplied me with ingredients, and my friend, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/coridana/" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Corina Miller</a>, who captured the experience on camera. </i></div>
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As a kid, I don't remember my family going all out when making Christmas cookies, not like some of my friends (the lucky ones) whose moms would bake dozens upon dozens of cookies, then go to cookie exchanges and come home with a dozen varieties more. My mom would make three or four different kinds, and compared to the heavily iced and sanded sugar cookie cutouts that my friends got to boast, ours were always rather boring.<br />
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Boring for a four year old, maybe. But looking back now, I'd argue that ours were actually edible. Not only that, they were also delicious.<br />
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I grew up to be someone who is just as practical, if not even more so, than my mom. Meaning my poor kids are lucky that they even got to try one variety of Christmas cookies this year. I support my decision not to participate with reasons of health. Everywhere you go during the holiday season, people, it seems, are eager and generous with sugary goodies, and I really don't want things like that freely available in our home as well. (That is my argument. Please don't make me admit that the main reason you won't find cookies in our house it because I simply don't like to bake.)<br />
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Carson, my almost four year old, was a bit in shock when I presented the idea of baking cookies together, because he didn't think I actually knew how. So, I set out to prove that child wrong.<br />
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We gathered all of the necessary ingredients at our favorite grocery store, <a href="http://www.oakhillbulkfoods.com/" target="_blank"><i><b>Oak Hill Bulk Foods</b></i></a>. We shop there almost every week, and almost every week Carson and Brooklyn both press their faces into the glass of the pastry display, begging for a cookie with sprinkles, (which Carson, hilariously, used to call "brain-kills") because they never get cookies like that at home.<br />
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Instead of bringing a cookie with sprinkles home this time, we brought a container of sprinkles and everything else, to make our own cookies.<br />
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I whipped up one of the four kinds of cookies my mom use to make -- Aunt Emma's Famous Waffle Cookies. (Yes, of course I did.)<br />
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These cookies are exactly as the title says, waffles. They are crisp and chocolate-y, and topped with a fudge frosting, and because Carson was helping me, also heavily doused with sprinkles. They're named after my Great Aunt, Emma, and are a Stoltzfus family favorite.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Aunt Emma's Famous Waffle Cookies</span><br />
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<b>Ingredients:</b><br />
1 1\2 c. sugar<br />
1 c. butter, melted<br />
4 eggs<br />
1 tsp. vanilla<br />
2 c. flour<br />
1\2 c. cocoa (I used dark cocoa)<br />
1\2 tsp. salt<br />
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<b>Directions:</b><br />
Mix butter and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla, mix together. Add flour, cocoa and salt, stirring until combined. Bake 1-2 minutes in waffle iron.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fudge Frosting</span><br />
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<b>Ingredients:</b><br />
6 Tbs. butter<br />
3\4 c. granulated sugar<br />
1\3 c. milk<br />
3\4 c. chocolate chips<br />
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<b>Directions:</b><br />
Boil butter, sugar and milk together for one minute. Stir in chocolate chips until melted.<br />
Spread over waffle cookies and top with sprinkles.<br />
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And there you have it, the inside scoop on the only cookies I'll be making this holiday season. They are so easy and so delicious. (Though not nearly as delicious as the cookies with sprinkles from Oak Hill. Carson was quick to let me know he truly wasn't that impressed with my cookie making abilities. Ya can't win them all, now can ya?)<br />
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This post was made possible, thanks to<b> Oak Hill Bulk Foods</b>, who supplied me with all the ingredients needed for the recipe. I highly recommend you visit their store if you get the chance!<br />
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Oak Hill Bulk Foods is located at 3173 Route 14A, just two miles south of Penn Yan, NY. The store is opened Monday - Saturday, from 8 am -6 pm, and the cafe is open Monday - Saturday from 7 am - 4 pm.<br />
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You can follow Oak Hill on<b><i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/OakHillBulkFoods/" target="_blank"> Facebook</a></i></b> and <b><i><a href="https://www.instagram.com/oakhillbulkfoods/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></i></b>, or visit their <b><i><a href="http://oakhillbulkfoods.com/" target="_blank">website</a></i></b> to learn more!<br />
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Also, a big thank you to my friend, <b><i><a href="http://instagram.com/coridana" target="_blank">Corina Miller</a></i></b>, who offered to do a lifestyle photography session just for this post! Her work is gorgeous, and if you are looking for a fun gift to give someone this holiday season, might I suggest you book a session with her. It will be a treasured keepsake in the years to come! You can find her on <b><i><a href="http://instagram.com/coridana" target="_blank">Instagram</a></i></b>. Send her a message there to let you know you're interested in learning more. </div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-1809149498951671542017-09-06T15:30:00.000-04:002017-09-06T16:01:18.597-04:00Whole30-ish + Other Current Happenings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I did a thing.<br />
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For the month of August I joined ranks, giving into the pressure of what it seems like every blogger and Instagrammer these days is challenging themselves with; I did Whole30. Well, to be honest, I did Whole30-ish. (Yeah, I cheated a bit.)<br />
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Maybe you're not familiar with it? <b><a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/what-is-whole30-and-why-were-talking-about-it-this-month-239308" target="_blank">Whole30</a></b> is a 30 day reset, where you eliminate certain food groups from your diet that could be having a negative impact on your body. Things like dairy, added sugar, grains, alcohol, legumes, MSG, etc. At the end of the 30 days, you slowly reintroduce them to your diet to see how you react to them. It's a fascinating approach to educating yourself about what you are eating and why.<br />
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This isn't a weight loss program, however a lot a people do happen to lose weight doing it. That wasn't my goal at all. I forgot to weigh myself, so I have no idea if those numbers fluctuated. I did it mostly for the discipline of it, and to prove to myself I could.<br />
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The first three days I thought it was a piece of cake. I ate lots of veggies, fruits, and protein, and didn't even miss heavy cream in my daily coffee. But by day four it was no longer a piece of cake; and I desperately wanted a piece of cake. I managed to stay strong for an entire eight days, before I cheated and went out for tacos with my sister-in-law.<br />
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I won't tell you how many times I ate off plan. I can't say I noticed huge changes in the overall way I felt. That could perhaps be because this way of eating isn't drastically different than how I usually eat, minus the dairy and peanut butter and chocolate I enjoy consuming. Or perhaps I didn't feel drastically different because I cheated a few times too many. Who knows? I did feel good though -- which typically I do -- and by not eating carbs from grains or any dairy, my stomach was flatter than ever.<br />
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By the last week I was done. Done. Done. Done. I cheated again, and drank cream in my coffee and had a bit of peanut butter with a banana. It couldn't be that bad, could it? It could. My skin, which had started to look clear and feel smooth for the first time since having Brooklyn, broke out in a rash. Little whiteheads began popping up around my chin, and I knew. Dairy. Dairy was the culprit.<br />
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So this week, though no longer doing Whole30, I am going mostly dairy free. And it seems to be helping my skin.<br />
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Along with the discipline of Whole30, I was hoping to also be disciplined in blogging weekly in the month of August. That happened exactly one time. Sometimes I wonder what happened to the Sarah I use to be, the only who followed through with her goals?<br />
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Oh wait. I know. She's now a wife and mom. She's got a new set of priorities, and not meeting every goal on time is okay. (Preaching to myself, but maybe you needed to hear that too.)<br />
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Also in the month of August:<br />
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<b>I read five books.</b> Two novels -- <a href="http://amzn.to/2xbah5w" target="_blank"><b>Her Mother's Hope</b></a> and <a href="http://amzn.to/2gNFLYp" target="_blank"><b>Her Daughter's Dream</b></a>, both by Francine Rivers. <a href="http://amzn.to/2wIOI9p" target="_blank"><b>Skin Cleanse</b></a>, the simple, all-natural program for clear, calm, happy skin, by Adina Grigore. I heard a lot of good about this book, and when I checked it out on Amazon the reviews were amazing. I've been implementing what I've learned, and that, along with eliminating dairy, I hope will clear my skin once and for all. The <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2w7L1rG" target="_blank">Gracelaced</a></b> book. If you follow me on<b><a href="http://instagram.com/saraheshblog" target="_blank"> Instagram</a></b> you already know how much I truly love this book. It's a beautiful devotional, that points to Christ in each and every page. And finally, <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2gNS3Qr" target="_blank">{Why} Motherhood Matters</a></b>. I am still working my way through this one, but it is so, so good! And I had the privilege of going to the book launch party and meeting the author, which makes it even more inspiring to me.<br />
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<i>By now you are thinking that if I had time to read five books, I most certainly had time to blog more. I can't blame that on my husband or kids taking all my free time. I'm beginning to think that too.</i><br />
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<b>I spent a lot of time</b> with my sister-in-law, Lyd, who was living in the area for the summer. We thrifted and ate tacos and drank coffee like it was our job.<br />
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<b>The kids and I met </b>my sister in Williamsport, PA, for a picnic lunch along the river. It's been almost a year since she got married and moved away. I don't know why its taken us this long to meet half way. We had a lovely afternoon, and already I am looking forward to doing it again.<br />
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<b>We went to the cabin</b> with my husbands extended family. I married into such a fun crew of people. This weekend is a highlight in our summer every year.<br />
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<b>I discovered two new podcasts</b> to listen to while mowing yard: <b><a href="https://www.susiedavis.org/category/podcast/" target="_blank">Dear Daughters</a></b> + <b><a href="https://hunterbeless.com/the-podcast/" target="_blank">JourneyWomen</a></b>.<br />
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<b>I mastered headstands and pull ups. </b>These both have been goals of mine for a long, long time.<br />
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<b>Met my handsome little nephew, Cai.</b> He's the son of my brother, Bryan, and his lovely wife, Amy, and the first child to be born to one of my siblings!<br />
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And<b> I didn't blog.</b><br />
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I know September will be even fuller than August. I'll be back to chat in October, if not before...<br />
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Have a lovely day!Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-77348443518424195312017-08-01T17:36:00.000-04:002018-02-18T14:38:21.725-05:00My Thoughts on Casino Gambling (And Other Quick Ways to Earn Money!)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The air was hot and humid that late July night. Loud carnival music drown by the roar of a small-town tractor pull, as dust lifted from the ground, mixing with exhaust to fill the night sky. I was at the county fair with a few friends, tempted to try singing Karoke, though thankfully I thought better of it, and instead got my first taste of fried Oreos... and gambling.<br />
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Lest you panic for a minute and think I am about to divulge juicy information about my secret life, let's get one thing straight, I don't gamble.</div>
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<i>Though perhaps I could be considered one.</i></div>
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I was born frugal. By the time I was 11 years old and had $1,000 in my bank account, I thought I was probably set out to be a millionaire in the next year or two, given interest rates on my little savings account stayed roughly the same. </div>
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Born frugal? Yes. Born a mathematician? No.</div>
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I am still working my way toward that millionaire goal.</div>
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That night at the county fair as I walked the outskirts of the gambling tent, someone pressed a quarter into my sticky palm, and whispered, <i>Have a good time!</i></div>
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I had a good time alright, but it wasn't quite what the twenty-something managing the casino games intended.</div>
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I pushed that quarter deep down into my pocket and continued on my way. Fifteen minutes later, I walked by the tent again. This time instead of staying near the edge, I boldly walked straight though. That twenty-sometime came up to me, pressed another quarter into my hand and gave a little wink. </div>
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Perhaps he was hitting on me, but at least I was making money off of it! He leaned in a little closer this time, and through the noise of coins clanging and machines blaring, told me that I could get my cash exchanged for quarters. <i>Tonight they were giving $6 in quarters for every five dollar bill!</i></div>
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It was adrenaline and thrill, that rush I got as I handed him my only twenty, wishing I had brought more cash along. I made $4.50 that night, almost covering the cost of my entrance fee. </div>
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As I walked away from the tent, my bag was obviously heavier and jingled with every step. How could it not with 98 quarters floating around in there?</div>
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That story was years ago, but honestly not a lot has changed... I am still frugal to a fault, most likely embarrassing my husband on occasion, though I think he also really appreciates that about me.</div>
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I don't recommend gambling, I haven't heard a lot of good about it. I do, however, have something I would recommend if you're trying to make a bit of money.</div>
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Have you ever heard of<b> <a href="https://poshmark.com/closet/saraheshblog" target="_blank">Poshmark</a></b>?</div>
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I've known about it for a while but recently made my first purchase. It's an online platform to buy, sell and trade clothes. It's different from <b><a href="http://www.thredup.com/r/UFXOGE" target="_blank">ThredUP</a></b> in that you have complete control over how much you charge for each item, but as a result of that, you are also the one shipping each and every item out. Poshmark makes that simple with a prepaid shipping label that you print out, attach to the package, and drop off in your mailbox. </div>
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The way it works, the buyer pays via PayPal or credit card, but Poshmark doesn't release that money to the seller until after the buyer has received the purchase and verifies that it arrived in the condition it was listed as. I've already used Instagram to sell clothes I no longer wanted, but Poshmark seems like a better alternative, especially since it also reaches a vast amount of potential buyers. </div>
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Yesterday I listed a few things I've been intending to consign. The process was easy, and within a few hours I sold three items, with lots of interest in the rest. </div>
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Perhaps you're wondering how I intend to make money with this?</div>
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I love to thrift shop. But I tend to be careful and thoughtful with what I purchase for myself, often leaving behind beautiful pieces that don't quite fit my lifestyle or body. Just last week I left behind a pair of beautiful leather <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2f62LAU" target="_blank">Lucky Brand booties</a></b> -- the exact pair I've been searching for for almost a year, but in the wrong size. I later checked them out on Poshmark, and that very pair is selling for anywhere between $40-$90. I could have made a killing. I also left behind new <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2uWjevK" target="_blank">Men's Birkenstock sandals </a></b>that my husband said he would never wear. Those were $5 at the yardsale, but $75 on Poshmark. And that new with tags <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2uWmlU5" target="_blank">J. Crew summer dress</a></b> I saw yesterday... I probably could have made $25 on it. </div>
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I don't really intend to turn this into a business, but would absolutely love if it would begin to fund all my Goodwill trips entirely. :)</div>
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So, if you're looking to save when buying something, or would like to make some money through selling things, I would recommend trying Poshmark! </div>
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If you are new to the app (it's very mobile friendly), use the referral code <b>JAKSE</b> to get $5 off your first purchase from my closet (<a href="https://poshmark.com/closet/saraheshblog" target="_blank">you can view that <b>here</b></a>) or from any other seller you purchase something from. </div>
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If you have any questions about it, feel free to ask.</div>
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And in the mean time, remember: <b><i>Gambling isn't recommended, but Poshmark certainly is!</i></b></div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-2835896067157537522017-07-14T23:45:00.000-04:002017-08-01T20:14:55.384-04:00Five Things for Your Weekend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I blinked, and without warning Monday morning turned into Friday night. Can someone please explain to me how a week during the summer can be like a single day in the middle of winter?<br />
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Life right now is moving, full and fast, and though the weather is such that if I would sit for a bit, I could probably watch the grass grow, I haven't had much time for sitting still -- we're in the midst of what I would argue is the best season of life, however I haven't had much experience with seasons of life as a mom yet, so please take whatever I'm about to say with a grain of salt. </div>
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Carson and Brooklyn both went through a phase this summer where they started skipping naps, Carson opting for no nap at all, and Brooklyn going down to just one instead of her usual two. I mourned that loss for about five days, then realized it is actually a <i>wonderful</i> thing! Being away from home in the middle of the day isn't cause for a meltdown anymore. We've been taking full advantage of this new-found freedom, spending many an afternoon at the lake or pool, heading out on adventures or meeting friends at the park, just because we can. Summer in this area of the country goes by quickly, and this year we are making the most of it. </div>
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I haven't had time to sit <i>or</i> write, because at the end of the day I feel spent, in the best possible way, falling asleep minutes after my head hits the pillow.</div>
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Today I'm checking in though, with a couple of things I'm eager to tell you about. You know, because that's what friends do.</div>
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Along with summer comes gardening and canning. Four years in and I still feel like a newbie at this... but I have jars upon sparkling jars of dill pickles and peaches setting on my basement shelves, and a small list of other things I would like to freeze or can. On my list for next week - blueberries and <i>more</i> pickles. I've made a compromise with myself -- I will can things, but only if I am willing to do it in the easiest, most quick way possible. Enter <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2tp7q2G" target="_blank">Mrs. Wages Dill Pickle mix</a></b>. One packet of seasoning will make seven quarts of pickles. It's so easy, and the pickles passed the approval of my taste tester, so that was a win in my book!</div>
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If you follow me on<b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/saraheshblog/" target="_blank"> Instagram</a>,</b> perhaps you saw my story this week of a beautiful cookbook that showed up at my door. The Amazon package said there was a gift inside, but there was no note or packing list -- I had no idea where it came from. The mystery was eventually solved, it was a thoughtful gift from my dear friend Kaylie. </div>
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Tonight Herm watched the kids so I could have an evening out. I did some much needed shopping for fun things like stain remover and toilet paper and diapers, then I sat by the lake with a bagel and coffee, and I read that cookbook cover to cover. (Who am I, reading a cookbook?!) Kaylie nailed it with this one, <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2vmOJxU" target="_blank">The Forest Feast</a></b> is 100% my style: simple, easy, and healthy. It's going to be a favorite, right along with my ever faithful <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2tcvslX" target="_blank">Against All Grain</a></b>.</div>
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Brooklyn has been wearing<b><a href="https://sewsweetclothing.com/collections/frontpage/products/mauve-floral-peplum-top" target="_blank"> this shirt</a></b> non-stop since the day it arrived in the mail. I ordered it from a shop I found via <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/sew__sweet/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></b> called <b><a href="https://sewsweetclothing.com/" target="_blank">Sew Sweet Clothing</a></b>. Suz, the owner and seamstress, generously sent me a couple other pieces as well, a <a href="https://sewsweetclothing.com/collections/frontpage/products/bright-blue-peplum-top" target="_blank">blue peplum</a> top and a <a href="https://sewsweetclothing.com/collections/frontpage/products/striped-babydoll-dress" target="_blank">striped dress</a>. I can't say enough about these. Her work is excellent and the knit fabric is quality. </div>
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We've got some exciting travel plans this summer, and you can bet, these pieces will be packed in our luggage, for sure!</div>
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I've been really enjoying the blog <b><a href="http://www.un-fancy.com/" target="_blank">Un-fancy</a></b> lately. She's got me rethinking a few ways I approach my wardrobe. I'm trying to have more fun with it. My husband will agree with this statement -- I over think things way too much. I'm trying hard to loosen up a bit, to throw aside rules I've made for myself and to just relax... This week I thrifted a pair of new <b><a href="https://avarcasusa.com/bin/details.php?Tag=Classic%20Style%20Women&Color=Lava&Model=510&Collection=women" target="_blank">PONS Avarcas</a></b>, which is helping me out with that. They're different and fun and comfortable. And since I discovered that they have them in childrens sizes too, I can't decided between <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2vmSnaQ" target="_blank">these</a></b> or <b><a href="http://amzn.to/2vmQ47F" target="_blank">Saltwater sandals</a></b> for Brooklyn.</div>
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One more thing: <b><a href="http://www.thepicta.com/user/eg.weaver/1813318835" target="_blank">Esther Weaver </a></b>is amazing. She sketched Brooklyn.</div>
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Then end.</div>
Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-54596476950290633322017-07-06T15:50:00.000-04:002017-07-06T15:50:26.731-04:00Just a Stay-at-Home Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Are you still able to stay home with your kids?</i><br />
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I remember the first time she asked me that question. I was a brand new mom, a brand new wife, in fact.<br />
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In a whirlwind of two years, seemingly everything in my life had changed. The week I moved back to the States after living abroad for a year, I met Herm. Thirteen months later, at the edge of a vineyard, with friends and family gathered, we exchanged wedding vows. Fifteen months after marriage, Carson was born.<br />
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In that span of twenty-eight months I had changed climates and cultures and churches. I found a new job - later leaving that to stay home and raise Carson, moved into a new house that didn't yet feel like home, and had to be intentional about making sure to sign my <i>new </i>name. Weaver, though double in length, came so much more naturally than my husbands surname. I was now a wife, a mother, an Esh.<br />
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In many ways that season was the best of times. But it was hard. Looking back I see so much good that came out of it, though I am certainly glad to move on.<br />
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<i>Yes, I'm still a stay-at-home mom, </i>I replied.<br />
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<i>How blessed you are to be able to do that! I wish we could make that work for our family.</i><br />
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The first time she asked me that question I felt myself shrivel inside. I was<i> just </i>a stay-at-home mom. I felt lost in the role, without value after so long basing my worth off of obvious accomplishments. I no longer contributed financially to our family, or managed a team, or attended conferences and workplace meetings. <br />
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I had traded all of that for late night nursing sessions and endless dirty diapers and days that seemed to last forever, though time was never my own. Though still constantly needed, I no longer received compliments or praise, something that beforehand I didn't realize I so desperately thrived on.<br />
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Somehow, in the midst of laundry and cooking and nap times and storybooks, somehow, after adding another child, and realizing that I truly did have free time as a mom of one, now that I certainly didn't as a mom of two, I felt settled and okay, even welcoming this stay-at-home mom gig for a career.<br />
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In the three year time span between her questions, so much is still the same - days can feel overwhelming and never ending, diapers are being changed, late nights still occasionally interrupted. I often find myself wishing for peace and quiet and time alone... which, when that does happen, feels awkward and distant, like meeting a friend from my childhood, someone I use to know, but now, not really.<br />
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<i>In that three year time span, it's my heart that most has changed. </i><br />
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It happened slow and gradual. In the rush of life I didn't notice. But it happened.<br />
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Her response, hearing the longing in her voice, made me realize all over again that being able to be a stay-at-home mom, <i>if that is what you choose,</i> is truly a privilege. I often still long for more, wanting to earn a paycheck and hear affirmation in a job well done. It's in my being, that longing to create and be known. And for that, there is still time.<br />
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I've heard it said, cliche but true: <i>The days are long but the years are short. </i>I don't always act like it, but truly, I am grateful to be here, at home, with my kids. And I'm grateful for a husband who works doubly hard to make that possible, supporting me 110%, never undervaluing my unpaid work. (While still joking about the amount of books I read, because what else would I do at home all day? )<br />
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The days <i>are</i> long, and already I've realized that the years <i>are</i> short. I won't be a stay-at-home mom forever, so while I am, I'm going to fully enjoy it.<br />
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<i>How are you enjoying mothering by now? </i>a friend asked me over coffee, our kids loud voices the background music to our conversation.<br />
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I stopped to think for a moment. Sort of chuckling to myself, delighted in my honest response.<br />
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Some days it's chaotic routine, where I feel overwhelmingly underwhelmed. Some days it's tears of laughter to mask those of desperation. Some days I want to throw in the towel, but gosh, more laundry! It's all of that, yes, and so much more.<br />
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How do I feel about mothering? Honestly...<i> It's never been better!</i><br />
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<i><br /></i>Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-90751587055711021462017-06-17T21:50:00.000-04:002017-06-17T21:50:46.550-04:00Happy Father's Day to Our Favorite<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Dear Herm,<br />
<br />
I'm sure there should be a more eloquent way to start a letter like this, but I know you like things simple and straightforward.<br />
<br />
There are many other good men out there, but never in a million years could I have imagined that the man who would father my children would be as good of a man as you.<br />
<br />
Why you waited so long to get married; why you noticed me -young, only 19- and took a chance at a relationship, some days still baffles me. Yet I am sure grateful you did!<br />
<br />
I recently heard a bit of advice given to someone still single: When looking for a marriage partner, choose someone who you would be thrilled to have your kids grow up to be like.<br />
<br />
I can say, without a doubt, I would be proud of Carson and Brooklyn following in your footsteps.<br />
<br />
There are so many things I love about the way you Father...<br />
<br />
For instance:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I love how much attention you pay to what your kids are saying. When you walk into the room their eyes light up because they feel known and heard.</li>
<li>I love how you read, endlessly, to Brooklyn. Book after book after boring board book.</li>
<li>I love how you are teaching Carson to cherish the future<i> Love of his Life</i> by showing him through example what cherishing means. He's been bringing me field-picked flowers and <i>I love you </i>post-it notes, something he has learned by watching you. </li>
<li>And... how you are cherishing Brooklyn as well, showing her what true love looks like. When working with money, bankers study the real stuff so that they can easily spot a fake. In the same way, because Brooklyn already knows that true love looks like it'll be a whole lot easier to sense someone who is looking out for their own interests and doesn't genuinely care for her. </li>
<li>You are exceedingly generous. The kids and I, daily, feel that. </li>
<li>I love your jokes, even if at times they aren't very laughable. Your sense of humor is something that was passed on to both of our kids. </li>
<li>I love that you are consistent and steady, an extremely hard worker and integrous business owner, yet you <i>always, always</i> make time for us. </li>
<li>And the daily rituals you have, of taking the kids on 4-wheeler rides, of waving to the little faces pressed flat against the window pane before you leave for work, of bedtime snacks and<i> I love you</i> kisses, they melt my heart.</li>
<li>You prioritize vacationing, often booking the next one almost as soon as we returned home from the last. My tendency is toward skimping to save money, but you are teaching me that investing time and money into making memories together as a family is always worth it. <i>Always.</i> Years from now, when the kids are grown and on their own, I am believing that we will reap the benefits of this because our kids will have a rich history of time spent intentionally working to deepen relationships <i>and have fun together</i>. They will always be siblings, yes. But because of this, I think they will always be close friends too. </li>
</ul>
<div>
You, Herm, are a good, good Father. You're modeling to the kids the love our Heavenly Father has toward us, always looking out for our best interests, even when, at times it may not feel like it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You balance out my mothering in the best way possible, and remind me of the long-term perspective, which in the day-to-day moments I can so easily miss. You are the yin to my yang, and I am forever grateful to have a man like you be the Super Hero our kids look up to most.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank you for being YOU.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Happy Father's Day, Love!</div>
<div>
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Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4337187896115571730.post-48501898004660036352017-06-06T00:09:00.001-04:002017-06-06T00:09:48.140-04:00Currently<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<h3>
Reading:</h3>
<b><a href="http://amzn.to/2sb4eeg" target="_blank">The Magic of Motherhood</a></b> by Ashlee Gadd.<br />
<br />
Written by the contributors of the popular blog, <i><a href="https://www.coffeeandcrumbs.net/" target="_blank">Coffee + Crumbs</a></i>, this book is a beautiful collection of essays on Motherhood that will have you laughing one minute, then crying the next.<br />
<br />
Reading through it, story by story, I felt myself feeling lighter and freer, as I realized I'm not the only one who has [far too many] days she wishes she could redo, who day-dreams of what life might look like if her world wouldn't revolve around toddlers, who can't wait for nap time and the peace and quiet it brings only to find that when they're sleeping she misses the noise.<br />
<br />
It was as if I was having coffee with a friend, and during the conversation kept whispering, <i>Really? You too? </i>No longer feeling isolated or alone with the many emotions raising Littles can bring.<br />
<br />
I've been a long time reader of the blog, and ever since I found out about the book, I've been eagerly awaiting its release.<br />
<br />
It did not disappoint. This is a book I know I'll skim through again, and one that I think I will gift to every new mother I know.<br />
<br />
I'm planning to pass my copy on to a few friend to borrow who I think will enjoy it as much as I did.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
Loving:</h3>
•<b><a href="http://amzn.to/2sb7E0L" target="_blank">My new mop</a></b>.<br />
Over the winter we replaced the flooring in our house from carpet to laminate. Before the only sections of floor I needed to wash were the kitchen, entryway and bathroom. It wasn't a big deal to get down on my hands and knees and scrub them until they shined. But going over my entire house weekly on my hands and knees... I did that all of two times and decided it <i>was not </i>worth it. Ideally I would have loved to purchase a<i><a href="https://norwex.biz/en_US/shop" target="_blank"> Norwex</a></i> mop. I use to clean for someone who had one, and the quality of theirs was superb, but the price! I couldn't quite justify that.<br />
Enter <a href="http://amzn.to/2sb7E0L" target="_blank">e-cloth</a>; it's very similar to Norwex, though without the silver woven through it, which is what makes Norwex stand apart. The price point was more within my range, so I purchased it. And I love it. I think the only thing that would make it more lovely is if it were self-powered instead of Sarah-powered. (Is it ironic that I clean homes for other people but at times wish I could have someone come in and clean my home so I wouldn't have to?)<br />
<br />
•<b><a href="http://amzn.to/2sb4wBS" target="_blank">Carol's Daughter Hair Milk</a></b><br />
Over Memorial Day weekend we went to Lancaster, PA, to visit family. My week was fairly busy, and even though I thought I was on top of packing everything, I wasn't. I completely forgot all my hair products save a comb. I figured I could manage without them, I would simply wear my hair in a ponytail all weekend. Herm didn't agree. So off we went to WalMart in search of something to manage my mess of tress. I typically use <a href="http://amzn.to/2sb9OgA" target="_blank">Deva</a> products for my curls, but since WalMart doesn't carry that, I picked Carol's Daughters Hair Milk out of the very limit selection of curl friendly creams and gels, and hoped for the best. So far I really like it. It detangles my hair, which means I don't feel the need to run a comb through it after washing, and seems to give my hair softer, shinier curls. I do use a gel along with the cream for better hold.<br />
It's been almost a year since I decided to fully embrace the fullness of my curly and often frizzy hair. It was a bit of a learning curve but I think was completely worth it. Seeing products, like Carol's Daughter, become more mainstream is exciting to me. I plan to try more of this line after I finish off my current supply of Deva things.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/katelyn.esh/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #666666;">•Kate's Instagram Challenge</span></a></b><br />
My sister is currently in the midst of a 100 Days of Illustrated Journal challenge. Her feed is looking fabulous, and every day I check it multiple times to see if she's posted. You might enjoy following along too...<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
Dreaming:</h3>
<div>
Do you remember <i><a href="http://www.sarahesh.com/2017/03/currently.html" target="_blank">this post</a> </i>where all I could seem to talk about what that living room makeover I was dreaming up in my head? Guess what?! Instead of just being in my head, it's currently in progress! You might remember that I mentioned wanting a large area rug (check), a leather couch (check), and white walls (to be checked).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can I tell you a little story about dreaming and persistence followed by prayer?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I love quality things, and often that comes with a high price tag. In addition to that, I am not a spender. Wants quality but hates to spend; that doesn't always works so well. In this case, however, it did.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After spending hours and hours on Craiglist and Facebook Market place, I thought I had finally found a couch. It was leather, and from Article, the company whose couches I was most drawn to. I messaged the Facebook seller, and after conversing for a bit, made an offer. Instead of counter offering, he came back with a few names, calling me cold and heartless. That couch was a sentimental piece he wasn't ready to part with, and I wasn't willing to pay the asking price. No deal.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was feeling discouraged about the search and prayed. Prayer is always worth a shot, no?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Several days after I prayed, the kids and I went yard sale-ing. Herm dropped us off in a town that was having it's bi-annual community sale, while he went to meet with clients for two hours. One of the very first sales that I went to had a huge area rug. It was rolled up tight, so I couldn't see the entire rug, but I could tell it was very well made. I began asking a few questions about it --it was wool, and in great condition, the owners were ready for a change-- and asked for a price. Hesitantly, a lady working the sale suggested $60, acting as if that was perhaps a bit much. (I later found out from her husband it cost well over $2,000 new... they hadn't communicated well what the selling price would be) I knew I wanted it but couldn't take it at that moment because I was without a vehicle. I told them not to worry about holding it, but if it was still there when I came back I would buy it. Two hours later it was still there, being admired by a growing line of potential buyers... but as soon as I walked up the owner said, "H<i>ere she is, I've been holding it for her". </i>As we loaded it into the truck he mentioned that I got a really good deal, I already knew that, it could have been sold for more than triple what I paid. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A few weeks later I notice the same couch on Craiglist but for almost $500 less that what Mr. Sentimental was selling his couch for. I sent another email, fully expecting it to be an awkward <i>haven't-we-talked-before</i> moment... but it wasn't, and this seller was a bit more professional. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My brother-in-law drove over an hour, one way, to pick it up for me, since I found it on the Philadelphia Craigslist. (I married into a pretty cool group of people.) And a few weeks later, over Memorial Day weekend, we were able to pick it up and finally bring it home.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The living room now needs a coat or two of white paint (and a fiddle leaf fig tree), to feel almost complete. This winter Herm might build a TV cabinet/bookshelf too... but until then, it, slowly but surely, is feeling more and more like I imagined it would.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
Wishing:</h3>
I would feel a bit more motivated with my <b><a href="http://www.sarahesh.com/p/25-before-26.html" target="_blank">25 Before 26</a></b> list this year. I've got a lot of catch up work to do if I am planning to come even close to accomplishing it. I managed to learn a headstand, but haven't blogged about that. That's about the only thing I've managed in quite a while from that silly list.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Thinking About:</h3>
<div>
Signing up for a subscription to<b><a href="http://prepdish.com/" target="_blank"> PrepDish</a></b>, an online meal planning service, or learning to batch cook.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
When we went to Quebec this past winter we took most of our own food. I spent several hours preparing all of the meals we were planning to eat in while we were on vacation. Once we were there the work to finish the meals was so simple. We ate healthy and it felt good to still be able to truly vacation, and not spend hours cooking.<br />
<br />
It seems like more often that not I don't have a plan, and that makes cooking no fun. (Not that I exactly love it to begin with.) I have been writing down meals I make each day to come up with a list of ideas to go to when I really don't feel inspired. But the idea of batch prep, that does sound appealing to me. I don't know that I would do it a week at a time though, perhaps every four to five days, to keep the food more fresh tasting.<br />
<br />
If this is something you already do, do you have any tips you'd be willing to share?<br />
<br /></div>
<h3>
Listening To:</h3>
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.npr.org/podcasts/510313/how-i-built-this" target="_blank">How I Built This</a></b> by NPR. Ever since I discovered this podcast I've been binge listening to it. Guy Raz interviews well know business men and women about how their companies were started and became successful. I find it very interesting and inspiring.<br />
<br />
The other day I listened to the show about <b><a href="http://www.chesapeakebaycandle.com/?gclid=Cj0KCQjwgtTJBRDRARIsADsXL6HTSJAfDEyzpv3uRFe38BK0uGXU5d2htL8Bz-qTdZ8rd3we8k5Z4o8aAlLNEALw_wcB" target="_blank">Chesapeake Bay Candles</a></b>. I bet you can't guess what brand of candle I snatched up today while shopping at TJ Maxx. Yeah, you got me. The founder, Mei Xu, basically feels like an old friend now that I heard her story, and of course I want to support old friends through my purchases (at TJ Maxx).Sarah Eshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16450810471973308385noreply@blogger.com1