tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56942360019545076432024-02-07T20:43:47.327-08:00pistolsnprincesses"Let us remember that the life in which we ought to be interested is 'daily' life." ~Gregory of Nyssapistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.comBlogger320125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-30770850101658213052015-02-16T22:26:00.001-08:002015-02-16T22:26:16.558-08:00Not HowAs a mom of six, the last two who are twins, I am constantly getting comments about my brood when I'm out. From older women it's usually of the "better you than me" variety. Or the ever popular "My your hands are full."<br />
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But I've noticed a trend in the comments from my young momma friends and even the ones I meet while I'm out (twins cause quite the stir and we rarely get through a store without a few stops to chat with random strangers). These are the mommas who are living in the motherhood trenches of sleepless nights, diaper changes, cold meals that were supposed to be eaten hot, training and consistency, school work and home work, etc. These are the mommas who have less than five or six children and they all say the same thing. "I just don't know <i>how</i> you do it."<br />
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I honestly get totally awkward when I get this comment. I feel like I should respond with a list of my five secrets. But I have none. Not even one. Or maybe I should give my parenting book recommendations. But I only really use bits and pieces of any parenting book I've read.<br />
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Or I could show you my daily planner filled with tips on organizing your life. But most days I can't even remember where I put my planner much less tell you what I've written in it. I always leave those conversations wishing I would have had the words to encourage the mommas where they are in their journey.<br />
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I've thought about what I do that may be different or helpful because I want to be an encouragement. But really I just do what I need to do (or as much as I can).<br />
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The reality is that it's not the "how" in what I do. It's the "why." And I bet you know <i>why</i> I do all of this.<br />
<br />
Because it's why you do all that you do. Because you love your babies fiercely and want the best for them just like I do for mine.<br />
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All that <i>how</i> business doesn't matter. Not when you put your mind to the <i>why</i>. When we remember <i>why</i> we do this motherhood thing we just do what needs to be done because we love our kids.<br />
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I have to remind myself of this when I'm overwhelmed with the "how am I going to do this" feelings. Which, in full disclosure, happens often.<br />
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We are Super Mommas because we super love our kids. Not because we are always super at everything we do. We still yell at our kids, forget about the smelly laundry, and burn the dinner. We don't always get the <i>how</i> part right. But I bet you always get the <i>why</i> part right.<br />
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And we need to remember these two things.<br />
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1. Children are so quick to forgive. (Remember Jesus wants us to be like them for a reason)<br />
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2. 1 Peter 4:8 "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins."<br />
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And it does. And we love our children deeply. And they love us deeply. And that's <i>our</i> why.<br />
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I pray that this makes sense (because I'm writing from a very sleep deprived state) and that it encourages you in <i>your</i> journey. Because it is just that. Yours. And it won't necessarily look like anyone else's. You've got this.<br />
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Be blessed, friends.pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-22361517759508578522015-01-12T22:58:00.001-08:002015-01-12T22:58:37.398-08:00On My Nightstand I don't have many opportunities to read right now, but when I do this is the stack I'm working on.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlhVjhYnV9pgu6pQNGFfDQFxrqpfwXVNo-6rr0bhZX5Id2dCHrDTJy4ifXdLzaUWCufuO1rM-yEb8R6M2Zym4gj7jeLRK5wlG-aCXf99MVzvvt2_XGoFbwe5WFlpecCYgXr3EjuVNzI6g/s1600/IMG_4812%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlhVjhYnV9pgu6pQNGFfDQFxrqpfwXVNo-6rr0bhZX5Id2dCHrDTJy4ifXdLzaUWCufuO1rM-yEb8R6M2Zym4gj7jeLRK5wlG-aCXf99MVzvvt2_XGoFbwe5WFlpecCYgXr3EjuVNzI6g/s1600/IMG_4812%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Practical-Theology-Women-Knowing-Difference/dp/1433502097/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421129191&sr=8-1&keywords=practical+theology+for+women" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Practical-Theology-Women-Knowing-Difference/dp/1433502097/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421129191&sr=8-1&keywords=practical+theology+for+women" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Practical-Theology-Women-Knowing-Difference/dp/1433502097/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421129191&sr=8-1&keywords=practical+theology+for+women" target="_blank">Practical Theology for Women</a><br />
I've read through part of this book and have wanted to finish. I don't quite know how to explain it, but I'm kind of feeling like I need a bit more "Why" behind my relationship with my Savior. I want to go from an emotional relationship to a foundational one. Make sense?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mockingjay-Final-Book-Hunger-Games/dp/0545663261/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421129306&sr=1-1&keywords=mockingjay" target="_blank">Mocking Jay</a> & <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Catching-Fire-Second-Hunger-Games/dp/0545586178/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421129394&sr=1-1&keywords=catching+fire" target="_blank">Catching Fire</a><br />
I'm so late to the game with this series. Honestly, I had planned to boycott the whole thing. We ended up watching the first movie after it was out on DVD and I fell in love. I still didn't get around to starting the books until just before this last Christmas, though. I'm loving them! I usually like to read the book before I watch the movie, but with this series I feel like having watched the movies is bringing the books to life more for me. <br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Interrupted-Jesus-Wrecks-Comfortable-Christianity/dp/1631463535/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421130389&sr=1-1&keywords=interrupted" target="_blank">Interrupted</a><br />
People. Seriously. If you are totally in love with your normal, safe, comfy, American Christian life then DON'T read this book! But I'm in love and hooked. HH just shakes his head at me. And he's glad that 99% of our belongings are in storage because it makes it much harder for me to just give it all away to the poor. Which is good because, even though de-cluttering our home is a favorite past time of mine, those in need really have greater needs then my storage container of crap. And this book is helping me see that. Seriously. Read it. And then read her book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/7-Experimental-Mutiny-Against-Excess/dp/1433672960/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421132204&sr=1-1&keywords=7" target="_blank">7</a>. And then invite me over to de-clutter your house. Since mine is all packed away and unavailable.<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Growing-Prayer-Real-Life-Guide-Talking/dp/1621360466/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421130983&sr=1-1&keywords=growing+in+prayer" target="_blank">Growing in Prayer</a><br />
HH always says that if he didn't get married by a certain age he had plans to go live in the mountains and become a recluse mountain man. Thankfully I snatched him up before that happened. And if I wasn't living my #1 dream life my second choice would be living at the International House of Prayer in Kansas. Of course I didn't find out about IHOP until HH and I had met. Then when I went to IHOP for a six month internship we were already together and I knew I was gonna come back home and marry that hunk of a man and have a zillion of his babies. But HH and I both know that a piece of my heart stayed in the prayer room. The thing is I<i> suck</i> at praying. For me worship is how I communicate and relate to God most clearly. But I really want to have a stronger prayer life. This book is an answer to a desire I've had for a long time.<br />
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As much as I would love to read these books in the next few months, most likely it will take me at least half the year. I'm trying super hard to devote my days to my kids and hubby and reserve my time for reading, computer, and tv for the evenings after the kids are asleep. But that only works when the babies cooperate. ;)<br />
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Are you reading anything interesting? What's on your nightstand? pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-68778403056187951932014-12-24T07:10:00.000-08:002014-12-24T08:11:18.674-08:00Wordless Wednesday: Christmas Pajamas<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/AVvXsEh_LoSSmcXzUiLQ4w8jIATOgMfzPeSEpAFjpz-2IWfieS0D3qXIlH16iH6eLpK7qkhqF-pWClu1KuAgBxrds5rhzA1UyCZdErru9tdx7-WXvIT5jhRkK34RFXAlNKHisioauQAHWse7WBuC/s1600/DSCF0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LoSSmcXzUiLQ4w8jIATOgMfzPeSEpAFjpz-2IWfieS0D3qXIlH16iH6eLpK7qkhqF-pWClu1KuAgBxrds5rhzA1UyCZdErru9tdx7-WXvIT5jhRkK34RFXAlNKHisioauQAHWse7WBuC/s1600/DSCF0277.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2011</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWaMd2TVDI5p7FGS1b0f1NxWima2bSQoLOyEb7lE-lLJmXZdtEtI-8tPYoA8e6yjm56NCgrd_0JbLAnWwVj_kFg6-ugAPmQepvFJCweZwHfvQpR5Uhg_mfybVA88m_q2UcrJprbaKGWOV/s1600/IMG_2688%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWaMd2TVDI5p7FGS1b0f1NxWima2bSQoLOyEb7lE-lLJmXZdtEtI-8tPYoA8e6yjm56NCgrd_0JbLAnWwVj_kFg6-ugAPmQepvFJCweZwHfvQpR5Uhg_mfybVA88m_q2UcrJprbaKGWOV/s1600/IMG_2688%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2013</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjff1ahXWHFtwmxPTdb0ZZlClq3qMlse-VngxonOCJ0mXd7oRgffhBrccVq2BH7u2Ydu_RKUTbF2ZMxMI197MPZRfdwiFpReiR0jwv_CiKs-Z5axwCqvfgpLkaTAP4cwiAKEmftsTSxx7q5/s1600/photo+(5).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjff1ahXWHFtwmxPTdb0ZZlClq3qMlse-VngxonOCJ0mXd7oRgffhBrccVq2BH7u2Ydu_RKUTbF2ZMxMI197MPZRfdwiFpReiR0jwv_CiKs-Z5axwCqvfgpLkaTAP4cwiAKEmftsTSxx7q5/s1600/photo+(5).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3T57IhD_VcqGwved_KxulWelLpJV47216LFrSFfC9O6bQ4DZ8xPsdocs1u_rlUrQ_3GrCeksNPK6IblYXokYlfkz5yUNBTuXgYi9aAqJZSTQys5bEoWQBCy_uKSScZEWL3QxG6stwapAG/s1600/IMG_5772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3T57IhD_VcqGwved_KxulWelLpJV47216LFrSFfC9O6bQ4DZ8xPsdocs1u_rlUrQ_3GrCeksNPK6IblYXokYlfkz5yUNBTuXgYi9aAqJZSTQys5bEoWQBCy_uKSScZEWL3QxG6stwapAG/s1600/IMG_5772.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014 Christmas Extravaganza at our church. Our first good family photo. Everyone is looking at the camera and smiling...except that all you can see of Jackson is the toes of his shoes peeping under Hazel's dress. He hid and wouldn't come out. Good gracious. We tried. And, Thank you, Karyn for the photo!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thankfully we convinced him to let us get a picture before we left for church. It's the only one we have of him in his new suit. We had to tell him it's like the one Superman wears over his costume in order for him to consent to wearing it. And then we had to convince him to let us button the top button and put the bow tie on. The only reason he's smiling in this photo is because I asked him if he was going to kiss me before HH could. He's slightly ornery. But, oh what a heart stealer!</td></tr>
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We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! From our family to yours!pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-35336053363092140102014-12-22T07:56:00.000-08:002014-12-22T07:56:00.419-08:00'Til My Sides Hurt: My Christmas present to youThis is my present to you. The gift of laughter. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!<br />
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<b><u>Jackson:</u></b><br />
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When counting:<br />
"One, two, thawee, fo...six...five...seveneightnine!"<br />
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What he tells me every morning when I haven't given them their vitamins, "But we'w die without our bitamins, Mom!"<br />
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<br />A Christmas question: "How does HoHo get hew?"<br />
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A few months ago Jackson came home from church telling me all about "the gurl with dots on hew face" and how she helped him. HH and I couldn't figure out who he was talking about. Was it a girl with freckles? Was there a teenager helping in the class who had acne? Does someone have moles on their face? I was a little nervous just because I hoped that he hadn't said anything about these mysterious dots to their owner.<br />
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A few Sundays later he pointed this girl out to me and I was relieved to see that it was indeed a young girl with freckles. Well one day after this particular little girl came and visited us before church service Jackson was talking about her again. "She has nickles, Mom."<br />
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"What?"<br />
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"Nickles. On her face. The gurl with dots on her face."<br />
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"The dots on her face are nickles?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah."<br />
<br />
"You mean freckles?"<br />
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"Yeah."<br />
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We were watching Sound of Music and when Maria hit the high note at the end of the DO RE MI song Abiah asked, "Why did she hold her head when she sang that?"<br />
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Jackson quickly answered, "Because see didn't want it to fall off!"<br />
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<b><u>Amelia:</u></b><br />
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"Sometimes my pinky starts to fuzzle and tries to go to sleep."<br />
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Amelia was disagreeing with me about something and HH said, "Mommy knows everything, Amelia."<br />
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Amelia disagreed, "Nuhuh. She doesn't even know what's 100+2!"<br />
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About this picture of her and Oliver, "Naybe Oliver looks like baby Jesus."<br />
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<b><u>Hazel:</u></b><br />
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On picking out her own clothes:<br />
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"We need to go back to Target to find those jeans that you haaaaaaaardly let me try on!"<br />
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To Amelia while coloring make-up on a My Little Pony in a coloring book:<br />
"We don't want it to be grey because that would be insulting."<br />
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This last weekend we celebrated Christmas with just the 8 of us. The in-laws were out of town and the next week was booked so it was perfect timing. We had spent most of the week baking and getting ready for our little celebration. By Friday we were all a little short on grace and joy.<br />
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As we were trying to get the house picked up before dinner the girls got into a tiff about something and Hazel was yelling at Amelia. When she came into the room I was in she could see from the look on my face that I had heard the argument and yelling. I sent her to her room so I could finish feeding one of the babies and take time to find some grace and patience. After about 10 minutes Amelia came down and handed me this letter:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirziAOk4iNvlBP7kOGYH5LrOsQ59F_Xh1hyphenhyphenYUdShQtDx069So2fh9ADO2qtdS7EwnrnqV2KKz3E6_9bFRkkt1cDld6yfXqlCDjLApcc11bfsaG34WQkVWJWFQjVwQn5MhWhtHlzlhLMqv8/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirziAOk4iNvlBP7kOGYH5LrOsQ59F_Xh1hyphenhyphenYUdShQtDx069So2fh9ADO2qtdS7EwnrnqV2KKz3E6_9bFRkkt1cDld6yfXqlCDjLApcc11bfsaG34WQkVWJWFQjVwQn5MhWhtHlzlhLMqv8/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Interpretation:<br />
"Dear Amelia, I your sister is going to say I am leaving. Bye (something I can't decipher and she couldn't remember). Good bye everything. I have to Amelia. Love Hazel"<br />
<br />
I sent Amelia to fetch Hazel and HH and I laughed over our first runaway letter. But I was also a bit perplexed. I hadn't even yelled at her and there have been plenty of times when I actually yelled and she never threatened to run away.<br />
<br />
When she came down to us her eyes were red from crying and she said she felt bad for yelling at her sister. After she apologized to Amelia she decided not to leave after all.<br />
<br />
The whole situation was this crazy ball of drama, laughter, and the sweetness of a little girl who was sorry for the way she'd treated her sister.<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
<b><u>Abiah:</u></b><br />
<br />
HH had Abiah do some extra school work and Abiah admitted to me on the second day, "This is actually the easiest week I've had in a long time and I'm doing extra work."<br />
<br />
I asked if he would be sharing this info with HH and he said, "NO! If I tell him that he'll want me to do this much all the time!"<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
During a conversation with the girls: "I'm never gonna put lipstick on because I'm not a boy."<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
We were watching the Sound of Music Sing Along on tv and the first song we heard had foreign subtitles so Abiah was trying to figure out if we were on the wrong channel. I realized that the song song was in Latin and he said, "Oh. It's because they're Nims."<br />
<br />
"They're what?"<br />
<br />
"Nims. Or Nums or something like that."<br />
<br />
"You mean NUNS?"<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
And the finale. His birthday letter to HH. This kid is so sweet. At every birthday or special day he gets up and writes a little card for HH and/or me. They all have his signature pictures and are filled with spelling mistakes and his own special Eeyore vibe. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmTLFPKsu0NsLnDwmLgEPcrVImS6UrY_PPoERnVyAmQkymgmhpZd0nrV-DbeU-rA26G0EtFYxUrTshtpMAa5xss2xCHSfKAqx3FXycA-Z8LsReSlHkByQVCLVE1wwcYZDOZ5gcf6yhU3T/s1600/photo+(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmTLFPKsu0NsLnDwmLgEPcrVImS6UrY_PPoERnVyAmQkymgmhpZd0nrV-DbeU-rA26G0EtFYxUrTshtpMAa5xss2xCHSfKAqx3FXycA-Z8LsReSlHkByQVCLVE1wwcYZDOZ5gcf6yhU3T/s1600/photo+(4).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Also, HH turned 35. <br />
<br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
These kids are great. I hope you enjoyed these treasures.<br />
<br />
Merry Christmas!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><br />
pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-64818919401294423622014-12-10T07:24:00.000-08:002014-12-10T07:24:00.610-08:00Wordless Wednesday: 4th Of July Tradition... in December<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/AVvXsEjSfWMOTt3zJZ5L_SN6xrlDHn3oyIVMSIWrLvDPb5c72nePFW6CQPqsayF5jDyZ0LYD759Hg6_wGrCPVzqDyAgDNddketYfd2nwiwIWDRO7Dr7gJTKalZ72tkX-UynwwTqNDCAcqu8eFTz2/s1600/Fourth+of+July+Parade+2010+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSfWMOTt3zJZ5L_SN6xrlDHn3oyIVMSIWrLvDPb5c72nePFW6CQPqsayF5jDyZ0LYD759Hg6_wGrCPVzqDyAgDNddketYfd2nwiwIWDRO7Dr7gJTKalZ72tkX-UynwwTqNDCAcqu8eFTz2/s1600/Fourth+of+July+Parade+2010+046.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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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/AVvXsEhBPJGd1ld4Mm-l6jduL6g9AhNwyX9cSl2loEMOz6U8_CXuVLPbKuXhLCdGUj5R5eR0Ofl0p9cf-rGWZ1nnJ-0ZHOVtSGCIWTIBf2HscYklR8rFWPh3k_-4B9gkHW1wcb-ElO5I_oj2tYZ5/s1600/DSCF4123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPJGd1ld4Mm-l6jduL6g9AhNwyX9cSl2loEMOz6U8_CXuVLPbKuXhLCdGUj5R5eR0Ofl0p9cf-rGWZ1nnJ-0ZHOVtSGCIWTIBf2HscYklR8rFWPh3k_-4B9gkHW1wcb-ElO5I_oj2tYZ5/s1600/DSCF4123.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table 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/AVvXsEhTk9Nob34TPz52FluyKK7p1i2P4FpQP2x7TdiM9-iDsLGTPODSPH05ekXtL_zJxwITCcvfctvggqjXSwk0YoEckY6qo2-XBUWJjrOlAlhdGizb0IvE4G7G8pYooidkRyFKcl0qIxtutLdf/s1600/fourthofjulymolallaparade2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk9Nob34TPz52FluyKK7p1i2P4FpQP2x7TdiM9-iDsLGTPODSPH05ekXtL_zJxwITCcvfctvggqjXSwk0YoEckY6qo2-XBUWJjrOlAlhdGizb0IvE4G7G8pYooidkRyFKcl0qIxtutLdf/s1600/fourthofjulymolallaparade2012.jpg" height="320" width="319" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQuZ4hh5kDOqgHYpxrO1rqK39TYNGNQer7OxzG3Hem2oXSn_o2WEl6feMiCqRq7Pzy1UxdgESQz2Ckoh3sOlMJjBrr69G14wCT0zfFPIeCSTyON0WNzWf0KPwjrceNN3Xw-3qTLCVd_yk/s1600/IMG_1412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQuZ4hh5kDOqgHYpxrO1rqK39TYNGNQer7OxzG3Hem2oXSn_o2WEl6feMiCqRq7Pzy1UxdgESQz2Ckoh3sOlMJjBrr69G14wCT0zfFPIeCSTyON0WNzWf0KPwjrceNN3Xw-3qTLCVd_yk/s1600/IMG_1412.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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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/AVvXsEh06IVydBkiPy1dJdaYz1TbVMs5Eh5ehx02yw50whbkfEFbVLPwM4PC_cMNs7F8NAFIfern4eekfyWdy87L-h7_y-YsqHF2j3Ak4UpDQKT8pvyJ8Rlsz4WEXjWTVYiwMcCGc9LcpMjdU048/s1600/IMG_3371%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06IVydBkiPy1dJdaYz1TbVMs5Eh5ehx02yw50whbkfEFbVLPwM4PC_cMNs7F8NAFIfern4eekfyWdy87L-h7_y-YsqHF2j3Ak4UpDQKT8pvyJ8Rlsz4WEXjWTVYiwMcCGc9LcpMjdU048/s1600/IMG_3371%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Y0NKo-SYmgTnTtQuBCPD9czNAZPOFPm9v12me0gK5O4GMNj0IUYEz_SVcjBqqcPC4AwSLVHxNhpHhRmnN02UB4H9mxl67CXrNZnzOzjFvRq0gCbuHq9jBDoN8RN5qBDks_YgiUnCTmBo/s1600/IMG_3373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Y0NKo-SYmgTnTtQuBCPD9czNAZPOFPm9v12me0gK5O4GMNj0IUYEz_SVcjBqqcPC4AwSLVHxNhpHhRmnN02UB4H9mxl67CXrNZnzOzjFvRq0gCbuHq9jBDoN8RN5qBDks_YgiUnCTmBo/s1600/IMG_3373.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#beefyboys in 2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-46018961206955782482014-12-09T07:59:00.000-08:002014-12-09T07:59:00.440-08:00'Til My Sides Hurt: Jackson Funnies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty3rGCc4TK3CZ0tdaSAfTfKT3z1c6tG5K88c-l8m5n1MKHzppOH8BR_asYBWK73CLcnQJj5FmWeWWPyL7QsO9tSCxgYOiXI8WgpXCtxo7vGfHCSCTzFGwygNnIV62uK2lCkqDSMzowmZd/s1600/IMG_3144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Our children are are very passionate in their hugs and kisses to the #beefyboys. From a stranger's view point it looks like the kids are about to hit, choke, or bite the babies when in reality they are just so overcome with joy and delight that they can hardly contain their affection. I know. It's been my response to babies since I was little. Like, still a baby myself.<br />
<br />
Can we say, "Destined to have a bazillion children"?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2rIDSEKA0OjBKPHGXqS5kyJFX44GrFFeQGPLLzHH4rer888q59iZjJb43riJRDMorCipLGDD5xJrebBfZ3HTTItqGq8ko0wCXK4lT7sefgJKATSd4zg0hbB78WuUSKIeISSXHXZarbH5/s1600/IMG_4301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2rIDSEKA0OjBKPHGXqS5kyJFX44GrFFeQGPLLzHH4rer888q59iZjJb43riJRDMorCipLGDD5xJrebBfZ3HTTItqGq8ko0wCXK4lT7sefgJKATSd4zg0hbB78WuUSKIeISSXHXZarbH5/s1600/IMG_4301.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
Anyways, I've been training Jackson to give the #beefboys soft kisses and hugs and to save the big hugs and kisses for Mommy.<br />
<br />
Win/Win. ;)<br />
<br />
The other day after he had knocked me over with one of his kisses he told me, "I give da babies tiny kisses...and tiny punches."<br />
<br />
Before I could get a correction out he added, "Der boys! And dey beed in your tummy all da days!"<br />
<br />
3 year old logic: Tiny punches on boy babies are okay because:<br />
<br />
#1. We can hit boys but not girls<br />
#2. We can't give babies real punches<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
When he pinches the #beefyboys cheeks: "I'm not pinsing dem. I'm dust chubbing der cheeks!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQ1f1oxwc6nf6pjfujE3czL7QjBbqacnwrVpTNowFpLa-LzAulQT94Z7i40PNcoibFIqw3ULqSHbmjSGSMQ_gd7f9ymACK5tz2fUhcKQFuBsot0yZCJPtx3SC8cETaxYbzoZDM623WsmX/s1600/IMG_3621.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQ1f1oxwc6nf6pjfujE3czL7QjBbqacnwrVpTNowFpLa-LzAulQT94Z7i40PNcoibFIqw3ULqSHbmjSGSMQ_gd7f9ymACK5tz2fUhcKQFuBsot0yZCJPtx3SC8cETaxYbzoZDM623WsmX/s1600/IMG_3621.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
We were doing our advent reading and when it was Jackson's turn to list his blessing of the day he said, "Going in your woom." (climbing in bed with me in the middle of the night)<br />
<br />
And then he flashed the "Momma's Boy Smolder."<br />
<br />
Melt.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX8GZ1Gl1Z8IXryb4XTSA-fcbtQwN6-Z2EpBJ0zKS7HdOuOlbCgjacaA-kIeVsyrvuviyQ_PD33nhGw7oLftKLnJCUvdjzQqXk3sD9KQ0Ssf0Erav0u4LY58N1-Qka2pwNTfJRogwPWKJ/s1600/IMG_2980.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX8GZ1Gl1Z8IXryb4XTSA-fcbtQwN6-Z2EpBJ0zKS7HdOuOlbCgjacaA-kIeVsyrvuviyQ_PD33nhGw7oLftKLnJCUvdjzQqXk3sD9KQ0Ssf0Erav0u4LY58N1-Qka2pwNTfJRogwPWKJ/s1600/IMG_2980.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
A few months back I cut HH, Abiah, and Jackson's hair while my in-laws were out for the day. When they got home FIL was commenting on their hair and said to Abiah and Jackson, "Where'd your hair go? You got buzzed. You're Buzz Lightyear!"<br />
<br />
At that point Jackson, who is laying on the couch, starts pulling his pants down. FIL goes, "Hey! Whatcha doing?!"<br />
<br />
"I'm showing you my Woody!"<br />
<br />
FIL and I half gasp and giggle and, as we're both starting to tell him to pull his pants up, we realize that he has his new Toy Story underwear on and he was just trying to show FIL the picture on the back of the unders.<br />
<br />
Laughter for days, people. I tell ya.<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
The kids and I went blueberry picking with MIL this last summer. As we were picking I was talking to the kids about not eating too many of the berries while we were picking them because that would be stealing from the farmers. Jackson had a different solution.<br />
<br />
"I'm dust hiding 'tween da boosses so dey can't see me."<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRAbZHmiVuJVQoDBXiAnI356qqP6ZDwVW5wzldu0sBaZd31w5eYYe4BeqNEBRmhhndvajzUA0w8YEBfC3ARih_JkKt8aZu9Jm7ERp5svAo19QFt_s5akKayBDgZnad2WDQWWlyRdmgCwnK/s1600/IMG_3181.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRAbZHmiVuJVQoDBXiAnI356qqP6ZDwVW5wzldu0sBaZd31w5eYYe4BeqNEBRmhhndvajzUA0w8YEBfC3ARih_JkKt8aZu9Jm7ERp5svAo19QFt_s5akKayBDgZnad2WDQWWlyRdmgCwnK/s1600/IMG_3181.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
About sleeping on a bunk bed:<br />
<br />
"I don't like bonk beds. The wood bonks on me."<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
On getting too close to Emmett:<br />
<br />
"He was twying to eat my cheek for brefest, but it's not achooly his brefest."<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty3rGCc4TK3CZ0tdaSAfTfKT3z1c6tG5K88c-l8m5n1MKHzppOH8BR_asYBWK73CLcnQJj5FmWeWWPyL7QsO9tSCxgYOiXI8WgpXCtxo7vGfHCSCTzFGwygNnIV62uK2lCkqDSMzowmZd/s1600/IMG_3144.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty3rGCc4TK3CZ0tdaSAfTfKT3z1c6tG5K88c-l8m5n1MKHzppOH8BR_asYBWK73CLcnQJj5FmWeWWPyL7QsO9tSCxgYOiXI8WgpXCtxo7vGfHCSCTzFGwygNnIV62uK2lCkqDSMzowmZd/s1600/IMG_3144.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Speaking of Emmett's "brefest"...<br />
<br />
The #beefyboys were due to be born during hunting season in September. I'll never hear the end of it.<br />
<br />
That meant that we couldn't go on the Arcouette family annual two week hunting trip. That HH had already gotten time off for. I was a favorite of all this year. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrF0veTWBT1phtA_eP2aWiUwB4LfHcAkTEoA1W7TgS-ENpOJZmy9a9jrH1_XadaA7AfBbT7-pqiw00MJQlUefOF9szsRJGMdDw5W4CsWGu5a9rvVuL65FWQEkBAIdkh908YVU72GcOm-A/s1600/IMG_3624.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrF0veTWBT1phtA_eP2aWiUwB4LfHcAkTEoA1W7TgS-ENpOJZmy9a9jrH1_XadaA7AfBbT7-pqiw00MJQlUefOF9szsRJGMdDw5W4CsWGu5a9rvVuL65FWQEkBAIdkh908YVU72GcOm-A/s1600/IMG_3624.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
While we waited for babies MIL and FIL went with SIL#1's family. MIL and FIL came home the day before induction to be here for the birth and the day after the #beefyboys were born they went back to camp and took Abiah and Jackson with them.<br />
<br />
On the way back to camp they had car troubles and ended up at a little auto shop. When they walked into the shop the receptionist greeted them and Jackson immediately says, "Mommy had babies."<br />
<br />
MIL explained that her DIL had just had twins and then Jackson added, "And dey dwink milk outta Mommy's boobies!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-67710941376064239832014-12-08T08:19:00.000-08:002014-12-08T08:21:39.507-08:00Well...Apparently <a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2014/02/rest-and-hope-for-2014_10.html" target="_blank">Rest and Hope</a> for this year looks like not blogging for almost a year. Oh! And these things that have happened since I last posted:<br />
<br />
We found out we were pregnant.<br />
<br />
We found out we were pregnant with twins!<br />
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The Krooked Kastle sold.<br />
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We moved in with HH's parents until we find a house.<br />
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We found out that our babies were boys.<br />
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The kids and I spent most of the summer at the park, wadding pool, my mom's pool, and the dollar movies. <br />
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I survived the 5 million degree weather while being ginormously pregnant.<br />
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We didn't go hunting.<br />
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HH barley survived.<br />
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Then I was induced and we finally got to meet our boys.<br />
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They are now two-and-a-half months old and we're so in love.<br />
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And we have six kids.<br />
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We are still at HH's parents' house waiting to find a place of our own. I have lots I want to share and I hope that, now that things have slowed down a bit, I will be able to.<br />
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I read through some old posts about the kids and was just in a fit of giggles over their cuteness. It also made me sad that I didn't keep posting this last year. They are so cute and the time with them flies so quickly. I just want to bottle all the memories up so I can revisit them. And the kids love for me to read the stories to them. Which makes it even more fun.<br />
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Here are some favorites I read:<br />
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<a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2014/01/til-my-sides-hurt-telephone-guys.html" target="_blank">'Til My Sides Hurt: The Telephone Guys</a><br />
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<a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2012/06/til-my-sides-hurt-trip-to-dentist.html" target="_blank">'Til My Sides Hurt: A Trip to the Dentist</a><br />
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<a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2011/03/til-my-sides-hurt-when-daddys-in-charge.html" target="_blank">'Til My Sides Hurt: When Daddy's in Charge</a><br />
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<a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2010/11/one-of-those-videos-take-2.html" target="_blank">One of Those Videos</a><br />
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<a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2010/07/hazels-new-friend.html" target="_blank">Hazel's New Friend</a><br />
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For more funnies click on the 'Til My Sides Hurt label. <br />
<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-40806997904392875062014-02-10T08:14:00.000-08:002014-02-10T08:14:00.012-08:00Rest and Hope for 2014<i>As a preface you may want to read my <a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-recap-of-my-2013.html">recap of 2013</a>. Or not.</i><br />
<br />
This year when I started to prepare for my New Year's Resolutions I asked the Lord what I needed in this year. What does this year need to be for me? The first word that came to mind was Hope. I
think as a part of the healing I went through in 2013 I let go of a lot
of cynicism. I finally feel the freedom to Hope. And, Oh My, I'm in daily need of Hope.<br />
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But it also seemed like I kept hearing a whisper saying, "Rest."<br />
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"Two words?" I thought, "I can only have one. I need to decide between the two."<br />
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As I slowed down and starting thinking about both of these words I realized they are inseparable. Hope and Rest. Rest and Hope. I need them both.<br />
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You know when you get a new car and you you suddenly start seeing cars exactly like yours everywhere you drive though you ever noticed that model before? Well, after I decided on Hope and Rest for my words this year it was like that. Songs on the radio, messages at church, blogs I read, all talking about Hope and Rest! <a href="http://www.thenester.com/2014/01/hope-for-the-weary-home.html" target="_blank">One blog post </a>had the most beautiful way of explaining the relationship between the two:<br />
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<b> Hope is really about rest. Resting in the imperfections of today because you believe that tomorrow there is possibility.</b><br />
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I had written this down on New Year's day:<br />
<br />
"Rest,
because I feel I need a reminder to slow down and focus. Also, because I
want to rest in the promises of the Lord. Which leads me to HOPE."<br />
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This is the song I sing the most right now. It is my prayer. My meditation. I want it to be my breath prayer.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/LuvfMDhTyMA" width="560"></iframe>
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So, I wrote out a list of things I'm hoping
for in 2014:<br />
~ House sold<br />
~ Our New House!!!<br />
~ Financial freedom and peace<br />
~ Better job (for HH) or Peace and Favor at current job<br />
~ A year of health (No more ER trips, please!)<br />
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There are other, more immediate things I am hoping for right now and I'm sure there will be more through out the year, but this is my list of "big" hopes, if you will.<br />
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I sat down to use a portion (#22) of <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2013/12/a-grace-plan-a-doable-life-change-plan-for-a-new-year-a-new-you-with-printable/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29">Ann Voskamp's Grace Plan for 2014</a>
and ended up using her whole list as a base for my goals. Much of what
she listed is what I want for myself. Why re-write what has already been
so poetically penned.<br />
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For my specific 2014 goals I decided against "fixes" I wanted in my life and decided for the things that I felt just make me more whole person: daily disciplines, intentional/relational parenting, respecting and joyfully serving my husband, pursuing friendships.<br />
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And, of course, I always have a long list of books to read. This is just my "serious reading" list. <br />
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<b>Books To Read:</b><br />
These are the books on my shelf (minus one I still need to purchase) that I want to use to help me be a better me, mom, and wife. The ones marked (devo) are those that I plan to use in my morning devotional time. The others will probably be my night time reading books. Most are carried over from last year's list. Some I have already started.<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shepherding-Childs-Heart-Tedd-Tripp/dp/0966378601/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388647965&sr=8-1&keywords=shepherding+a+child%27s+heart">Shepherding A Child's Heart</a><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Logic-Magic-Early-Childhood/dp/1930429002/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648006&sr=8-1&keywords=love+and+logic+magic+for+early+childhood">Love & Logic for Parenting</a><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sheet-Music-Uncovering-Intimacy-Marriage/dp/0842360247/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648030&sr=8-1&keywords=sheet+music">Sheet Music</a><br />
<a href="http://nataliegrant.skorstore.com/natalie-grant/accessories/dare-to-be-devotional">Dare to Be</a> (devo)<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/David-Heart-Personal-Reflections-Series/dp/0805444270/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648160&sr=8-2&keywords=david+beth+moore">David</a> (devo)<br />
<a href="http://books.jesuslifetogether.com/Children-In-Life-Meetings-Our-Hearts">Children: In Life, In Meetings, In Our Hearts</a><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Power-Praying-Wife-Stormie-Omartian/dp/0736919244/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648204&sr=8-1&keywords=the+power+of+a+praying+wife">The Power of a Praying Wife</a> (devo)<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Love-Dare-Alex-Kendrick/dp/1433679590/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648231&sr=8-1&keywords=the+love+dare">The Love Dare</a> (devo)<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/On-Becoming-Preteen-Wise-Parenting/dp/0971453241/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648264&sr=8-1&keywords=Preteen+Wise">Preteen Wise</a><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Father-Heart-God-Experiencing/dp/0736912150/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648294&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Father+Heart+of+God">The Father Heart of God</a> (devo) <br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Practical-Theology-Women-Knowing-Difference/dp/1433502097/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648334&sr=8-1&keywords=practical+theology+for+women">Practical Theology for Women</a> (devo)<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Respect-Desires-Desperately-Needs/dp/1591451876/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648364&sr=8-1&keywords=Love+and+REspect">Love and Respect </a><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Will-Look-Up-Mornings-Seeking-ebook/dp/B00HLYLCTQ/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1388648397&sr=8-4&keywords=I+will+look+up">I Will Look Up</a> (devo)<br />
<br />
I know we are already a month into the New Year and this may seem like a late post I actually waited on purpose. Although my goals, thoughts, and desires for the year were written down on the 1st of January, I like to wait a bit to see if anything changes. Posting a month late is also a good reminder to stay focused or to get re-focused. <br />
<br />
I'm still excited about this year and I know it holds good things for us all. May we seek them with the eyes of a child.<br />
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Did you set goals for the New Year? Do share!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-13071733083486164412014-02-07T07:51:00.000-08:002014-02-07T07:51:00.554-08:00Favorite Things Friday Kid's Edition: BooksIt's no secret that I love books. I could live in a library. As long as it had a cafe of course.<br />
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I've tried and am trying to instill my love of reading in my children. One way is by surrounding them with a zillion books to browse and read. I also try to read to them as often as I can. They, of course, have favorites that we have read so many times we've memorized them and the bindings are coming loose.<br />
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There are a few favorites, though, that have caused me to stifle my giggles.<br />
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The first was a favorite of Amelia's when she was about two. My MIL got the book for the kids thinking Abiah would especially like it because it was a narrative about Daniel Boone. No one ever assumed that the two year old would be the one to drag it out everyday over and over.<br />
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She had very little patience, though, for the actual story. She just wanted us to turn the pages until we got to this one:<br />
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She would point her chubby finger and say, "Buns! Him's buns is sowing!"<br />
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The next book is a favorite of Jackson's. I bought it at a resale/antique store this last fall because it is old and I thought we could incorporate it into our schooling or family time. It's called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Words-Little-People-Kenneth-Taylor/dp/0842382321/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391495557&sr=8-1&keywords=wise+words+for+little+people" target="_blank">Wise Words for Little People</a>. It was written in the late 80's.So, never mind. It's not old. It's very young.<br />
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When I started reading it to the kids I was so happy. Every little story is based on an encouragement or admonition from the book of Proverbs. My kids loved it and they could understand how the Proverb applied to them.<br />
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I never thought Jackson would catch on to this book so early. This is the story he wants me to read the most:<br />
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"If you're acting naughty, Your parents may spank you. But when you get older, You'll want to say, 'Thank you!'<br />
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You can see in the picture that Little Bear is getting into the medicine cupboard. Here's what happens next:<br />
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Yup. Little Bear is getting a spank. I think Jackson is drawn to this story because he's been in Little Bear's shoes. Of course after the spank Mommy and Little Bear hug and kiss. I'm sure Mother Bear is saying, "I don't want to spank you, but I can't let you be disobedient. I love you very much. Please obey Mommy." Which Jackson is also familiar with.<br />
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Books are a lovely thing.<br />
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What are some of your family favorites?<br />
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<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-56544292594318236592014-02-06T08:16:00.000-08:002014-02-06T08:16:00.385-08:00Homeschool Q & A: A typical day and schooling with a toddler<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><i>For the first Q&A post see <a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2014/01/homeschool-q-how-long-and-why.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</i> </span></span><br />
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">I started this series to answer some questions for a friend. Since they are questions I get asked often I thought I'd write my answers out here for anyone else interested.</span></span><br />
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">Q: What does a typical day look like for you while homeschooling and what do you do with Jackson during school? </span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">A: Because of our extra-curriculars everyday looks a little different, but I try to keep some schedule and routine for our actual schooling. </span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">Although I'd love to run everything Von Trapp style with time lines and whistles, life really just doesn't work that way. (smile) I go by a To-Do list and organize from there. I try to get up before the kids for quiet time, but this can be difficult with kids who still crawl into my bed half-an-hour before I plan to be up. I've learned to be flexible and remember that this is a short season. Abiah is up at 6:30 for Bible reading. The rest of the kids are almost always up before that, but I'm trying to train them to stay in their room until 7 so I have time to finish my devotions and shower.</span></span><br />
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">Our mornings are started with kids getting dressed, chores getting done, piano practice, breakfast, and breakfast clean up. Most days HH is home for breakfast so we get to eat with him. </span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">I try to get us started with school by 8:30, but it's usually more like 9 or 9:30. First I get Abiah going on the subjects he does on his own. Then I spend about an hour working with Amelia and Jackson. Really this time is to give them some special time with me. Amelia is my main focus scholastically, but Jackson is her tag-a-long so we find things for him as well.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is just one room. And it looks like this everyday. They have to have it all cleaned up by the end of the day. And then they start over as soon as they wake up. :)</td></tr>
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">When they get done and I send them off to play I do school with Hazel. Her curriculum takes 1-1&1/2 hours to do. Of course everything takes a bit longer because I'm working with children who have a mind of their own, a will of their own, and a bathroom schedule of their own. There are lots of interruptions, to put it plainly. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFbP-QEfdn7Kvl59x4HifCtbxPxoBpVGAo9LzmAc7P2UFDKBPZsknJOaLDJdHdSZ6QC2Xv_CGvbSptP5EZpthhIDHo8-Z1DQI5K-YN6A9FSHuFZSODdcJWyOFijXSr9S8YTP7p1f-qCqk/s1600/IMG_2829%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFbP-QEfdn7Kvl59x4HifCtbxPxoBpVGAo9LzmAc7P2UFDKBPZsknJOaLDJdHdSZ6QC2Xv_CGvbSptP5EZpthhIDHo8-Z1DQI5K-YN6A9FSHuFZSODdcJWyOFijXSr9S8YTP7p1f-qCqk/s1600/IMG_2829%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hazel was upset and refusing to do her math because there was a girl apple that had four worms in it and that was disgusting and unfair to the girl apple. Also, the girl apple should have been at the top of the page. Her least favorite memory verses are the ones that talk about rotting bones. She generally puts up a fight about rehearsing those ones. But, obviously, she's a princess and princesses shouldn't have to talk of such things... Oy vey! Puberty is going to be thrilling.</td></tr>
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">Though I aim to train my kids to show me and each other respect by allowing me to work with each one individually, really this is just part of being a family. Kids have to pee and poo. They need to express their ideas and thoughts. And they need remind you they have a will of their own every now and again five seconds later. </span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">After I finish with Hazel we have lunch. I usually make lunch while Hazel finishes up a writing task or puts her books away. Amelia and Jackson are usually cleaning up toys and Abiah is finishing up the subject he is on. After I've eaten I read aloud to the kids. Abiah has scheduled read-aloud books with his curriculum so that's what we read. Afterward we clean up from lunch and I settle Jackson down for a nap. </span></span><br />
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">While he's napping the girls play quietly-ish and I do school with Abiah. Depending on the day, scheduled lessons, and Abiah's work ethic we can be done anywhere from 1-5. I try not to carry work over to the next day, but sometimes it is unavoidable. </span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
Abiah is in a music class on Mondays and Hazel is in one on Tuesdays. The class is at 3 so we aim to be done with school in time to leave for class. Wednesday is a rather busy day for us. I only do school with Abiah and Hazel on this day. After school in the morning, we go to our homeschool group at 1:30, come home for dinner, and then leave again for mid-week church by 6:45. Thursday is a quiet day usually, and it is also our last day of school for the week. HH is off for the weekends beginning Friday morning so we spend Friday with him. Our curriculum is mostly scheduled for a four day school week so we just do any Friday work on Thursday.<br />
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I've found that our schedule has seasons because we have seasons. Last year looked very different. I like this year <b>way</b> more than last year, but the kids are a little older and are getting the hang of the routine a bit more.<br />
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One of the things that helped me relax about our daily school routine and my need for it to be perfect was a comment I read in our curriculum. The author was sharing their family's daily schedule and she used the phrase "we've trained our kids to..." a few times. I realized if I want my kids to follow a routine I have to train them to. And because they are still so young I can't just expect them to know on their own. So a lot of what I do is training. This year, thankfully, I don't have to do so much of that with Abiah. It's been a breathe of fresh air especially since I have three others who still need so much of my time in that area.<br />
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We have good days where I think we've finally, <i>finally</i> figured it out. And then we have no good very bad days when it feels like we have so far to go. Honestly, most of that depends on my hormones, though. I've learned to be aware and make adjustments in my attitude and our work load, if need be.<br />
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I hope this encourages you.<br />
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Do you have a question about homeschooling or about ours specifically? Leave me a comment and I'll add it to my list!<br />
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Blessings, ya'll!pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-38892447465485028852014-02-05T08:25:00.000-08:002014-02-05T08:25:00.314-08:00Wordless Wednesday: Paper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ok. Mostly wordless. I need to explain. My SIL's boyfriend, so my boyfriend-in-law, works for a paper company and he gave us a huge box of paper. And this little Miss, especially, makes the most gigantic messes with it EVERY. SINGLE. DAY! She loves to color and goes through at least 100 sheets a week.<br />
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I sent my boyfriend-in-law a message thanking him for fueling my children's need to draw on a new piece of paper every few seconds. I also thanked him for fueling our wood stove, because that's where it all ends up.<br />
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I do love that I don't have to constantly replace my copy paper that I use for school. It was getting ridiculous. And I was getting stingy. We're all happy. :)<br />
pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-23491859860423924152014-02-04T07:24:00.000-08:002014-02-04T08:02:02.739-08:00A Book Review: Happy Wives ClubAbout a year ago my heart was burdened for some marriages of the people in my life. It was a small flood of my circle of friends and family, from the past and currently, who were facing huge struggles and were going through situations I'd never even imagined. Although HH and I were doing good at the time I felt an uneasiness. It wasn't that I was questioning the rightness of our relationship. I just needed to know how we were going to make it work.<br />
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I remember sitting with a group of ladies, most of who are much older than me, and asking, "What is the one thing you would say is the most important to a marriage? Besides Jesus, because that's obvious."<br />
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One lady replied instantly, "Sex." There were some heads nodding in agreement. I countered her response with, "Really? Sex? Is that what <b>you</b> need or what he needs? I know sex is important to marriage, but is it the one thing, other than Jesus, that it takes to make a good marriage?"<br />
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Another woman spoke up, "I heard a message on marriage many years ago. The speaker was talking about the passage that says, 'A husband must love his wife, and a wife must respect her husband" (Ephesians 5:33). He said that the reason husbands should love their wives
is because it is very hard for men to love. They are logical beings
and love is an emotion. And woman are called to respect our husbands because it is easy for a woman to love. We do that unconditionally. But,
if someone does something we can't justify it is very hard to have respect for that person. The Lord stretches us by asking us to do the
things that are difficult in our way of thinking. So for women it is
respect and for men it is love."<br />
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What she said was as a thick healing balm poured over the burden my heart was feeling. I had an answer. I left that night with hope and a plan for my own marriage and a determination to pray for the ones that I'd been burdened for.<br />
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This last month I jumped at the opportunity to review the book, Happy Wives Club, hoping that, maybe, I would discover a little more of an answer to the question I had last year. Within the first few pages I felt right at home. The author, Fawn Weaver, had been on a journey that took her to six different continents to find, for herself, an answer to the same question I had been asking.<br />
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I was confused a bit at first because there was so much back story of the author's travels and experiences. I think I was expecting the book to mostly be stories about the couples she interview. The beauty I found in her writing was that Fawn, through her personal journey in marriage and the mundane of her travels incorporated with the beauty of the relationships she encountered, found the answer she was seeking. Her journey was as important as her mission.<br />
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<br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"> Another thing I
liked about the book is that it wasn't one sided. I seem to see a lot
of "Women, here's how to be a better wife" books, but I've often wondered
if there are as many for men. Though this book is titled Happy Wives
Club, Fawn really stresses the mutuality of the relationship. </span></span><br />
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It's funny because the book almost felt anti-climatic. But in the end that felt right because, of course, the answer to happiness in marriage is more simple than we think. In our over dramatized culture and world we expect the secrets to life to be filled with magic and fairy dust and unicorns. They should definitely be far fetching and almost difficult to reach. But Fawn reminds us that happiness is as simple as mutual respect and service and friendship.<br />
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It was a book I could hardly put down and when it was over I felt a renewed determination to pursue true happiness in my own marriage.<br />
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<h4>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Disclaimer: I received this book through booksneeze.com in return for my personal review.</i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span></h4>
In addition, because this review isn't long enough already, my dad and I were talking about this post and the book and he had an amazing point that he illustrated with a song I remember him playing for my mom.<br />
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Be blessed, ya'll!pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-35920878776013850722014-01-29T08:46:00.000-08:002014-01-29T08:46:00.666-08:00'Til My Sides Hurt: Man-child's Gonna Get Slapped One DayAbiah has a tendency to say what is on his mind, and, without meaning to, sounding completely rude. Sometimes he thinks he's funny, but most of the time he just doesn't realize that he sounds like he's trying to be offensive.<br />
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I was talking to my parents about it and made the comment, "The kids gonna get beat up some day because he sounds so rude."<br />
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My dad, who is like Abiah's twin born 40 something years earlier, said, "No. I never got beat up. I knew enough not to say that kind of stuff to guys."<br />
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"I'm not talking about guys, Dad. He's gonna get slapped by some girl that he'll unknowingly offend!"<br />
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"Oh... Yeah... I think I got slapped a few times."<br />
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Exactly.<br />
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Here are a few gems, plus a few other funny things he's said lately.<br />
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I was lamenting to Abiah that Amelia had left her cream colored jacket outside and it was now all muddy.<br />
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He just looked at me with a blank stare and then said, "If I was a girl maybe I'd understand."<br />
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Around Christmas my parents caught the flu and were horribly sick for two weeks. Towards the end of their sickness we had an emergency with Jackson one evening and I needed them to rush over to watch the other kids while HH and I took him to the ER. Because of the situation my parents dropped everything and came right away. My mom, who is always done up, hadn't done her hair or make up because she'd been so sick. When they came in the house Abiah greeted them at the door. He looked at my mom and said, "Hmmmm, bad hair day?"<br />
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During our Christmas at home I made a huge platter of snacky foods for our meal. There was so much that we ended up eating it for a few days after, too. On day three of snacky foods for lunch, Abiah was doing the dishes while I was getting everything set out.<br />
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"We're eating that agian?"<br />
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"Yup. We need to eat it up."<br />
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Then he walked over to a pan of beans I had on the stove and peaked inside to see what was in there.<br />
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"Oh good. You're still cooking."<br />
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Now this comment was just a timing thing because I found out later that he was actually checking to see if I was still using the pot so he'd know if he had to wash it or not. So, I'll give him that one, but in the future someone else might not be so nice.<br />
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We were making a list of different flowers for school and I had listed some off for him and he repeated them, or what he heard, back to me, "Violets, lilacs, and cockroaches?"<br />
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While dictating to him his spelling words:<br />
<br />
Me: Your next word is circumference.<br />
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Abiah: Sir Cumference? Do I even know him?<br />
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And a little note from me to the girls he'll meet in the future:<br />
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I try. I really do. <br />
<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-25069304031816386232014-01-28T08:31:00.000-08:002014-01-28T08:31:00.384-08:00Homeschool Q&A: How long and WhyI am often asked by friends and acquaintances for help or advice on homeschooling. I love answering those kinds of questions and helping in anyway I can, but sometimes there isn't time to sit and have a lengthy conversation. So I thought I'd start blogging through questions and then I'll have this as a resource to point people to.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_RBzrMsmWGjz22n0uckuMZVJwmaARnHM-ZpTz0Weliw28CJZ2ow1ScCMqA-MJ_mjZ4U9Hi8jk37CXfIAMLNasen2rfh85GrdZ_AVRsvRxaBFOKNGx4ljN3q-Bip3t7YyP8T9FXVVl4mDl/s1600/IMG_1557%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_RBzrMsmWGjz22n0uckuMZVJwmaARnHM-ZpTz0Weliw28CJZ2ow1ScCMqA-MJ_mjZ4U9Hi8jk37CXfIAMLNasen2rfh85GrdZ_AVRsvRxaBFOKNGx4ljN3q-Bip3t7YyP8T9FXVVl4mDl/s1600/IMG_1557%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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And here's where the disclaimer comes in.<br />
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<i>Disclaimer: I am in no way the final authority on homeschooling, and I am well aware of that fact. I have opinions and ideas (some original</i>, <i>but most borrowed or adopted) and I love to share them, <b>but</b> I fully believe that you are the <u>best</u> judge of what your family's need are. I share with the idea that you will glean from me, as I have and do from others. I also share hoping for and expecting grace. Homeschooling isn't for everyone and I believe that and am okay with that. But, it is what my family does so I have ideas and thoughts about it.</i><br />
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The first few posts come from a list a friend sent me. She is in the beginning planning stages and has some questions. Since busy schedules are keeping us from a face-to-face conversation I thought I could type it out for her and also file it away for others.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVkCq2hYxqHorZDX-AikrfPtIm4JLPQzRQ_-Ob-m2q-tG67kEGMMDMBUZxXrffYba9HY0RKBJz2HtDLCQvlLzACDNzY5xcgNPvXe2tsyOUAggT1mfrA9GmDFQ2F86GyBEI-z37Ww328fJ/s1600/IMG_1552%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVkCq2hYxqHorZDX-AikrfPtIm4JLPQzRQ_-Ob-m2q-tG67kEGMMDMBUZxXrffYba9HY0RKBJz2HtDLCQvlLzACDNzY5xcgNPvXe2tsyOUAggT1mfrA9GmDFQ2F86GyBEI-z37Ww328fJ/s1600/IMG_1552%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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Q: How long have you been homeschooling?<br />
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A: Well, the last job I had before HH and I got married was for a <a href="http://www.basicskills.net/" target="_blank">local company</a> that supports homeschoolers through state testing, classes for students, help with special needs students, and tutoring. In order to fill out my schedule more I became a tutor. With the guidance of my boss, who has been working with homeschooling families since HH was in kindergarten (at least), I ended up with a full schedule of clients that I homeschooled for their parents. This was from 2001-2004.<br />
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Most of my students were ESL students who had a difficult time in the public system because of the language barrier and the lack of time for one-on-one instruction. I also had two girls with special needs that I met with three days a week for 3 hours each day. I would homeschool them and send them home with work for our off days. It wasn't typical homeschooling, but it served the need of the families and I really feel it gave me the confidence to homeschool my own kids.<br />
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Our kids have only ever been homeschooled. I started with Abiah when he was about 4. I only started that early because he was ready and interested. It wasn't much at first but it gave him a little something different to do during the day. <br />
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Q: Why did you decide to homeschool?<br />
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A: Well, for me, the answer to this has evolved. HH and I knew we wanted to homeschool our children before we were even married. It was something we had talked about and decided to do. I think in the beginning, though, it was more of what we knew. HH was only ever homeschooled and I had homeschooled 8th-12th grade and then was already homeschooling other kids. I don't know that there was a lot of depth or thought put into the decision. It's just what we wanted. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX657uriWI-8JM9g8_smxWrMvERD0zs4L41N62bNFivLyBotDsH76XwnNAJmoTxqqVfja1Juz7bNjU28-gAR-KxxsyFx84B9ljcWTJRB_RYwL2qS220Yq9WWOH3UTXG8_3PmBiYJxIJ13h/s1600/IMG_2147%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX657uriWI-8JM9g8_smxWrMvERD0zs4L41N62bNFivLyBotDsH76XwnNAJmoTxqqVfja1Juz7bNjU28-gAR-KxxsyFx84B9ljcWTJRB_RYwL2qS220Yq9WWOH3UTXG8_3PmBiYJxIJ13h/s1600/IMG_2147%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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I learned quickly, though, that it wasn't enough of a reason. On the hard days I generally would end up in an internal rant that ultimately ended in me deciding it was all HH's fault; I homeschooled our kids because he made me.Totally not a fair conclusion, but Crazy Momma Internal Ranting rarely is.<br />
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A year ago this last fall I came to a breaking point. I shot off a text to my dear friend who I admire and who has gone before me a few years and I basically said "I can't do this anymore! I don't know how to school my child and get him to do his work! I've tried everything! He hates school and I know he could love it!"<br />
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She ever so gently responded, "Yes. He does hate it. I think you need to take a break and start over."<br />
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I knew she was right, but it hit me in the gut. Not because of her, but because I was lost. And starting over seemed daunting and how do you do that with a toddler and two crazy girls running around, all who want your attention too?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeeQs23wXTaM9KEQyLxia3pkrX_eM-2dcx8mO_eUH4Ran8DNNDbdjC_BqUrUlhbgPV0NsHDMy9ToyrfZWjlI2z1vkZyF-AQLuvr19Z3TuKEmhqxJ2T_e_v3_P2hzVZe-FyBkHZ_GOO7uj/s1600/IMG_1813%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeeQs23wXTaM9KEQyLxia3pkrX_eM-2dcx8mO_eUH4Ran8DNNDbdjC_BqUrUlhbgPV0NsHDMy9ToyrfZWjlI2z1vkZyF-AQLuvr19Z3TuKEmhqxJ2T_e_v3_P2hzVZe-FyBkHZ_GOO7uj/s1600/IMG_1813%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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The short story is that we took a week long break and I prayed and researched, spent time with my kids and talked to HH, and researched and talked to my friend. In the end I know the biggest change was what happened in my heart, but another part of the change was defining my vision for homeschooling our children. I still don't have an exact list, but during that time, and since, I have read and re-read many times over <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/03/pros-cons-homeschooling-christian-educatio/" target="_blank">this post from Ann Voskamp</a>. For me it was like reading what my heart wanted to say and wanted to want, but didn't know how.<br />
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Another reference for me was<a href="http://www.amazon.com/For-Childrens-Sake-Foundations-Education/dp/1433506955/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1390888100&sr=8-1&keywords=for+the+children%27s+sake" target="_blank"> For the Children's Sake</a> by Susan Schaeffer Macaulay. I had to take this one in slowly and I know I'll go back to it many times over. It is a beautiful breakdown of Charlotte Mason's educational theory. My ideas of what education should look like were challenged, as were the approaches I have taken with my children. It was a continuation of the gentle redirecting my heart and mind needed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVfpwmhDOBSzNVIwekCnM682DN_LoX99rD5snR85n-9xBbN1WjlATIB69dyyIVYDaOExgIKYxVALxPDmavkIqccvMPvkERj9TqCUi03Wx8pXIslLpKHljXXqMSo3ARNhnLlSGN-96BKr5/s1600/IMG_1469%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVfpwmhDOBSzNVIwekCnM682DN_LoX99rD5snR85n-9xBbN1WjlATIB69dyyIVYDaOExgIKYxVALxPDmavkIqccvMPvkERj9TqCUi03Wx8pXIslLpKHljXXqMSo3ARNhnLlSGN-96BKr5/s1600/IMG_1469%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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There were also a lot of little things. A blog post here. A conversation there. It all added up for me. <br />
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I have a long list of books to read to continue my own education on homeschooling and I'll share as I finish them. <br />
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So, after all of that back story, what I tell people now when they ask Why? is this:<br />
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"> I believe I am the best
teacher for my children. I know them best and have the time to give
attention to ALL their needs, not just their scholastic ones. Education
is important to me, but to me education is also more than math facts, timelines, and proper grammar. When a struggle arises between teacher (me) and student I have the time to dive deeper and look for the heart behind the attitude or behavior. </span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">I also have time to learn their strengths and weaknesses and I have the freedom to let them work at a pace that fits them. Traditional math didn't work for Abiah so we switched it up and he is thriving. Sometimes Abiah likes to walk while he practices memorization. Hazel likes to sit on top of the table while we work together. Both Hazel and Amelia prefer to be dressed as princesses while schooling. And Jackson likes to climb things all day. </span></span><br />
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"></span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrVvxu1rwmGg8IsEqISnqG7ABAxwJ8o2GAKEvoBB-V5NeEgPphoiMJ2zBkIF9DPy-cIsu4TZQJ5YiVND_MnQ_dZOTeEznqYSpl-bYRFtDpwV53jEDSEPHDnrSmcRkwPPfOfOtCbIpgmE4c/s1600/IMG_1246%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrVvxu1rwmGg8IsEqISnqG7ABAxwJ8o2GAKEvoBB-V5NeEgPphoiMJ2zBkIF9DPy-cIsu4TZQJ5YiVND_MnQ_dZOTeEznqYSpl-bYRFtDpwV53jEDSEPHDnrSmcRkwPPfOfOtCbIpgmE4c/s1600/IMG_1246%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">Also, I don't homeschool because it is easy for me. I do it because I love to. I get comments all the time from other mom's about how I must be so much more patient because they could never do what I do. </span></span><br />
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">No. I'm super impatient. Every single day I fight impatience and selfishness. Occasionally I win, but mostly I don't and we do lots of apologizing. Homeschooling is just what I've chosen to do. Everybody's job drives them a little crazy even if it's their dream job, like mine. </span></span><br />
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<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null">Also, I just really like being with my kids. The day-in-day-out is <a href="http://pistolsnprincesses.blogspot.com/2014/01/letting-them-love-me.html" target="_blank">hard and raw</a>, but it's the best thing I've ever done and it's the only thing I ever wanted to do. When Jackson was born I remember freaking out because I had 18 years left of homeschooling. It seemed like an eternity and I didn't know if I could make it that long. This last fall when he was potty trained I almost cried because I realized that I <b>only</b> have 16 more years of homeschooling left. Oh, the pendulum and how it doth swing.</span></span><br />
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Another reason for me is that I agree wholeheartedly<span data-measureme="1"><span class="null"> with Ann Voskamp when she says, </span></span><i>"We personally don’t believe that children are called to be kingdom warriors in the public school system because, in our humble, and very possibly misguided opinion, that doesn’t seem a
level playing field. There are agendas operating there that may leave a
child at a disadvantage. <b>But do we need to walk with our
children in the world with a vibrant, fearless faith that has full
confidence in an all-powerful God? </b>Yes!" </i><br />
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<i> </i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83brraNOhzlkBlSVxu5DV2jxO0Ku8PofDMN1KP3lZV1BkLM_1dsRTCPrN6B-l7lfVSOsJkQNP2IMFAGi87yEnZwhtuXYENXNxtPhk7YFnGKwRxqGs9TJ2WgR5MHRLY7laPMv1VUYTp0R0/s1600/IMG_1592%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83brraNOhzlkBlSVxu5DV2jxO0Ku8PofDMN1KP3lZV1BkLM_1dsRTCPrN6B-l7lfVSOsJkQNP2IMFAGi87yEnZwhtuXYENXNxtPhk7YFnGKwRxqGs9TJ2WgR5MHRLY7laPMv1VUYTp0R0/s1600/IMG_1592%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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I believe I read a post (that I can't find!) (Okay, <a href="http://7sistershomeschool.com/2012/04/08/homeschooling-as-greenhouse/" target="_blank">here's one</a>, but I don't think it's the original that I read, but you'll get the gist) from another homeschooling momma that likened her children unto tender young seedlings who need time to mature in the greenhouse until they are strong enough to withstand the weather and storms of the outside world. My hope is that we shelter our kids enough to hold onto their innocence, yet we are honest about real life and the real world enough so they make a smooth transition from our home to where ever they may end up. We talk about real things and we talk about a real God and his real love and real power.<br />
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I would add that I also think it would be cheating our kids to place
them in an environment where they are basically raised by, and in turn raising,
their peers. Aside from the adult to child ratio in typical classroom settings
being extremely low, the awake hours spent <i>away</i> from parents and family
and <i>with</i> peers leaves the majority of influence up to the other
children in the class. <br />
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And we pray it all comes out right in the end because, really, we all as parents are just doing what we feel is right for our children. A wise friend challenged my moping about past parental mistakes by asking, "Do you ever make a decision with the purpose to hurt or damage your child? No! You make all decisions believing that it is the best thing for them." And, it's true. That's what we're all after, right?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxxENjbe3xxwoXmni47B2D41hKH-sbxDh2EEAvc3VVgv58OWgWKmKyO8rQ0-rYxZlv2ZkvIISBtGv0ayj-d-ku8vlLyt4Huo43qHAsEw4BfoFFBgK7IVY4buzf8LUkfvtEH4wPkJ89C13/s1600/IMG_1538%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxxENjbe3xxwoXmni47B2D41hKH-sbxDh2EEAvc3VVgv58OWgWKmKyO8rQ0-rYxZlv2ZkvIISBtGv0ayj-d-ku8vlLyt4Huo43qHAsEw4BfoFFBgK7IVY4buzf8LUkfvtEH4wPkJ89C13/s1600/IMG_1538%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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So, for us, this is a part of why we homeschool. I hope this glimpse into our hearts as parents and educators of our babes encourages you whether you intend to homeschool or not. Like I said above, you are the best judge of what your family's needs are. God gave your children to you because he knew you were exactly the parent they needed. You are doing a great job.<br />
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Be blessed, ya'll!<br />
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<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-21928333318381038862014-01-27T08:29:00.001-08:002014-01-27T08:44:56.324-08:00Happy Monday, Ya'llOur weekend started Thursday night as HH had taken it off to use up a holiday. HH and I had fabulous weekend plans that were altered Thursday night by a cold visiting our house. We didn't get as much date time in, but we still managed to have a restful weekend.<br />
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Friday was our busy day that turned into my busy day so that HH could stay home with the sick child. (My SIL had the three older kids.) In the morning I had a meeting with a friend, but the rest of my day was to be filled with shopping, shopping, and more shopping. As I got ready for the day I decided I'd wear my yoga pants to my friend's house since it was a cozy meeting.<br />
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When I checked myself in the mirror before I left I thought, "Man, I look confused. I'm all dressed nice...and then there's the yoga pants." Instead of embracing the shame of wearing my yoga pants outside of the house, I decided to name my outfit.<br />
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The Mommy Mullet<br />
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Business on the top, Mommy on the bottom. (I'm still not good at taking my photos.)<br />
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Lesson here: Embrace the cozy and then give it a name. Happy Monday, Ya'll!<br />
pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-57038705659425265942014-01-23T14:26:00.000-08:002014-01-23T14:26:05.523-08:00'Til My Sides Hurt: The Telephone GuysSo, apparently our little phone company has switched to fiber-optics and they are making a slow move up our street to switch the houses one-by-one. I got a phone call yesterday morning and we set up a time for them to come make the switch. I was pretty excited because I had showered and was fully dressed...NOT in yoga pants. And that was before they had even called. Also the house was in decent order because we had a showing the previous night.<br />
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The two men showed up at the appointed time, which just happened to be when I was just finishing school with Hazel, Abiah was working on school in the other room, and Amelia and Jackson were napping. Perfect! They can get in, get it done, and there won't be too much chaos.<br />
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As I was talking to the Phone guys about the logistics of what they were doing, why, and where, I was vaguely aware of the fact that Hazel was running around behind the younger of the two guys. She was giggling and snickering, but she tends to do that when she's embarrassed and I just figured strangers = embarrassed. Nope.<br />
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Right as they walk out the door to begin their task, she starts after them and says something about the stickers. Thankfully she stopped when I called her, and even more thankfully, they didn't hear her.<br />
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She explains to me that while I was talking to the guys she snuck up behind "the little one", as she called him, and placed three small smiley face stickers on him. One on his back, one on his leg (calf), and one on his <b>butt</b>!!!<br />
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Oh. Don't worry. She assured me she didn't actually touch his butt. She just put the sticker on a fold of the fabric of his pants.<br />
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OH! EM! GEE!<br />
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I couldn't help it. I laughed. And I couldn't stop. Especially when he'd come in the house and walk past us with three stickers stuck on his back side. Abiah was a fit of giggles too. It was quite ridiculous. And ab.so.lu.tely hilarious! Especially since she can be super shy. Girl sure knows how to pick her moments! And, boy, is she proud of herself.<br />
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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/AVvXsEhxWMHS2tBqJMtV5HKHj1pCYMjXXGX4MxgFwDnfgtcNKWV2Ja6YFhVem0374Bzp51Vr3cA9pXVlA2FSlG6GXr-gEtaTF7UR453ysfeqnDYwuzyRZQubrtSOL1v0f_R9AnXnw7ppnp4Hnt8v/s1600/IMG_2732%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWMHS2tBqJMtV5HKHj1pCYMjXXGX4MxgFwDnfgtcNKWV2Ja6YFhVem0374Bzp51Vr3cA9pXVlA2FSlG6GXr-gEtaTF7UR453ysfeqnDYwuzyRZQubrtSOL1v0f_R9AnXnw7ppnp4Hnt8v/s1600/IMG_2732%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amelia stole my phone and there are tons of pictures of the two of them like this. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We were talking about it later in the evening with HH and I told him about Hazel reassuring me that she didn't actually touch his butt, just the fabric.<br />
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Me: "He was wearing Carrhart overall things over his clothes, so I'm sure he didn't feel it."<br />
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HH: "Were the quilted?"<br />
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Me: "Well...I didn't feel his clothing, so... I'm not sure."<br />
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HH: "Well, that's good to know."<br />
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Abiah: "Ask Hazel. She should know."<br />
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And then Abiah and I were back to fits of laughter.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnVPQcl727um7pp3h1gedBDiSZbh3BHzfV14CWpETOKU8rvv_zZ6tPZ2z5IzD3SHpIkwWpLq33NK-3gl-hHV3j3FKd03Dv5UZdkqBk0oBi49i08eXQqSAltWMTzSI1-Tzzjj7Vqr7jT2n/s1600/IMG_0368%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnVPQcl727um7pp3h1gedBDiSZbh3BHzfV14CWpETOKU8rvv_zZ6tPZ2z5IzD3SHpIkwWpLq33NK-3gl-hHV3j3FKd03Dv5UZdkqBk0oBi49i08eXQqSAltWMTzSI1-Tzzjj7Vqr7jT2n/s1600/IMG_0368%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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Who says home schoolers are socially awkward? What!?!? <br />
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<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-89627961006501264912014-01-21T09:04:00.001-08:002014-01-21T09:29:05.170-08:00A little encouragement for the soulThe days have been busy and the nights not so restful. I'm a little weary yesterday and today. Here are a few things that are ministering to my heart today and I thought I'd share in the case that maybe you need a little encouragement too. Be blessed my friends!<br />
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<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2014/01/when-youre-desperate-to-more-than-barely-survive-your-life/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29" target="_blank">A lovely post from Ann Voskamp.</a><br />
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And a prayer song to snuggle our hearts right next to our Father's.<br />
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What has been an encouragement to you this week?pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-66696859742909118122014-01-20T09:47:00.002-08:002014-01-20T09:47:55.422-08:00A Monday List1. All last week I had the hardest time waking up early. Except on Friday. Friday I had plans with my MIL to go to a sale at the consignment shop my mom and her friend own. It was a first come first served type of event so we needed to be there at opening or close to it to really get the good stuff. Which meant I had to get myself and four children, two of whom needed bathing, out the door by 8:30 so we could meet HH at his mom's house so he could watch the kids while the MIL and I went shopping.<br />
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2. It was a bag sale where you choose from certain racks and it's $10 for anything you can fit in one of their shopping bags. I got six pieces in my bag.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyHJzBQHxjg0gRnl3mmFMxQm6xCKdmvwMxDPrG8N1v302z6iziZhlGVcLw2_wp_ilgdmLvF1CjSwUnQD9AJ2NUdblCpA4AMxYGLbGksP9qRYJAqL0pOnaRWhac9fK4QD-SISZwYYjJOer/s1600/IMG_2785%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyHJzBQHxjg0gRnl3mmFMxQm6xCKdmvwMxDPrG8N1v302z6iziZhlGVcLw2_wp_ilgdmLvF1CjSwUnQD9AJ2NUdblCpA4AMxYGLbGksP9qRYJAqL0pOnaRWhac9fK4QD-SISZwYYjJOer/s1600/IMG_2785%255B1%255D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I scored this top. I took this picture yesterday before we went to church. P.S. I am not a fashion blogger and I have no idea how to take photos of myself in the mirror. It's hard work, Yo!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQ4M3AlIuPc53pq3F7zFfEuKgGUs4Gw4MDNnVTTs2vBjWfCXch0Cr6ysyl2JJVBbmzop3DszSBzzLnGRaGOlJh6Bo1HFq8bXWFCmodhZPj8DZUv1cDa_M3fi-x7cjZRbu_tdPAdM0bLXt/s1600/IMG_2786%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQ4M3AlIuPc53pq3F7zFfEuKgGUs4Gw4MDNnVTTs2vBjWfCXch0Cr6ysyl2JJVBbmzop3DszSBzzLnGRaGOlJh6Bo1HFq8bXWFCmodhZPj8DZUv1cDa_M3fi-x7cjZRbu_tdPAdM0bLXt/s1600/IMG_2786%255B1%255D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I also got these four tops and a long sweater for my SIL. It was a successful trip and I can't wait for the next bag sale. It was a two day sale and, let me tell you, it was so hard not to go back the second day to have a peek and the next batch of goodies. Abiah saw these laying on the floor and was all, "Ummm, why are there sweaters on the floor." Because your Mom is trying to be cool kid. That's why. Now go to bed.</td></tr>
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3. I also purchased one item that wasn't part of the bag sale. It was on one of the window mannequins and I loved it before I even entered the store. The lovely shop girl (aka Mom) took it down for me and after trying it on I knew it was for me. I didn't know what HH would have to say about it, but I knew he wouldn't mind. When I asked him for probably the 50th time that night if he was okay with me buying it he said, "It's paid for itself" and then he gave me a "look". I think he likes it. :) Or he likes that I like it. Whatevs. He's hot and I got a new sweater/cardi thing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaXXudeAzPTVcy1VAech-Vc3V1xVytX2bo5T-qUD2XQiAWKSb1uOtkNLHoPqrPb7Gb9dl5MHfJARxgT-iFFRU2sBOoPSUBRgNDfyF2HufLmJVvUgUGZEL8R4toqQIpC2NsLahrzOiADgO/s1600/IMG_2787%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaXXudeAzPTVcy1VAech-Vc3V1xVytX2bo5T-qUD2XQiAWKSb1uOtkNLHoPqrPb7Gb9dl5MHfJARxgT-iFFRU2sBOoPSUBRgNDfyF2HufLmJVvUgUGZEL8R4toqQIpC2NsLahrzOiADgO/s1600/IMG_2787%255B1%255D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New cardi/sweater thing! I wish I could honestly say that wearing this with my yoga pants was just for the picture, but I'd be lying. It's so comfy! I will say that I won't be wearing it with a cream colored tank in real life. I have a little bit of fashion sense.</td></tr>
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4. HH and I went on a date! We visted a pub in Portland and then ended up at one my my favorite dessert places for sweets and coffee. Friday was a pretty great day.<br />
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5. After a late Friday we were violently woken up Saturday morning by Amelia stomping into our room declaring that Jackson was trying to climb out of his crib. Jackson was close on her heels exclaiming, "I want tell you somsing, Momma! I want tell you somsing!" I groggily turned to HH and said, "We've entered a new level of H-E-Double Hockey stick." Hazel followed them into our room explaining that someone (cough, HH, cough) had left the railing down on the crib during a midnight "Take Jackson pee" run. HH and I let out a huge sigh of relief. This morning Jackson came down the stairs all by himself. The crib rail was up. He is no longer contained by his crib and there is only one booster seat he can't get out of. Conclusion: That kid is going to have to learn to sleep sitting up. That's the only way we'll get any rest, I'm thinking.<br />
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6. There's nothing worse than waiting all weekend to check the mail because you should be receiving a package in the mail, except checking the mail on Saturday and finding the yellow slip in your box that let's you know your package is indeed in the building. You just can't have it. And the only thing that's worse than that is running in Monday morning to get said package that you <b>know</b> is there only to realize that it's a Federal holiday and you still have to wait one more day. Hope deferred, ya'll. That's what it's all about.<br />
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I hope your weekend was fantastic and that you are ready for a new week of new mercies. Happy Monday!<br />
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<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-19992261837863098962014-01-17T10:00:00.000-08:002014-01-17T10:00:00.158-08:00Favorite Things FridayHere are a few things that have made me smile this week. Enjoy and join in with a comment on some of your favorite things from this last week.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv0tUSsmvX00j5FXTABbFDIoCDjlwTYPsky3OA6yLgkxHD86bmq6cwPpsbsMUnY54CM3CoVu-eEKfUurwyK3omNF4g8kWe52NV8GVKSMTqPUVSl9fQ50WOZPmXjgOWwjP9jg-8pMPPpbQZ/s1600/IMG_2759%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv0tUSsmvX00j5FXTABbFDIoCDjlwTYPsky3OA6yLgkxHD86bmq6cwPpsbsMUnY54CM3CoVu-eEKfUurwyK3omNF4g8kWe52NV8GVKSMTqPUVSl9fQ50WOZPmXjgOWwjP9jg-8pMPPpbQZ/s1600/IMG_2759%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Krooked Kastle Krooked Kakes! You know you live in a Krooked house when all your cakes resemble the Leaning Tower of Pisa. This was the cake I made for our belated Christmas celebration with HH's family. It was a delightful weekend and a delicious cake!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja8DhRz7Cgj05dCi9VL9cEJbYcFDzPnYxxXOi6TPZfQeIqZRTL66C2yvMa9MmVYJ2q3ZMrCtq9kGgkANDoyIaJPMXi7vGDn_crJCWS_F1bq0G8YjghlmBHdmfmIun-O1mMDF9TZbINcsQA/s1600/IMG_2761%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja8DhRz7Cgj05dCi9VL9cEJbYcFDzPnYxxXOi6TPZfQeIqZRTL66C2yvMa9MmVYJ2q3ZMrCtq9kGgkANDoyIaJPMXi7vGDn_crJCWS_F1bq0G8YjghlmBHdmfmIun-O1mMDF9TZbINcsQA/s1600/IMG_2761%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my all time favorite people had a birthday this week. In all my 33 years of life I've never admired anyone more. We are more than sisters. We are Pin Dins.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6tS1U0FiOcybdMl9rVxKV8crVsXRtG91RowhOUEncRg4Sh-GKAMDomwQXX0E3I529I80FTGHNVhS5ajP13YPOyqNM7sUt7UQ4Uy6MHtsemGPw3vnNHaQFIV7zlBZBnKdfk501DFM6y19/s1600/IMG_2765%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6tS1U0FiOcybdMl9rVxKV8crVsXRtG91RowhOUEncRg4Sh-GKAMDomwQXX0E3I529I80FTGHNVhS5ajP13YPOyqNM7sUt7UQ4Uy6MHtsemGPw3vnNHaQFIV7zlBZBnKdfk501DFM6y19/s1600/IMG_2765%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite meals I made this week and I couldn't even eat it on account of all the eggs in it. Frittatas have become a family favorite. Before I new I had an allergy to eggs I joined in the good eats. I still love making them for my family though. It's a perfect way to use up left over pasta or rice dishes. The funny thing about this particular frittata is that Jackson refused to eat the pasta for dinner the night before, but then he ate one and a half pieces of frittata and wanted more! Silly kid.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVbQ6MvurgTtbsv0uGH6fKcvO4dOaXel6KuocTzRZh2kXKsl3f6d9rmtim20X3t8ue6hPsUf8jEOdqmTulDc8WPDP_g_UOyeQMoW8niHR9w1YCg0FKJijNeS2BpPTCD1QhVNAQvjIML_i/s1600/IMG_2767%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVbQ6MvurgTtbsv0uGH6fKcvO4dOaXel6KuocTzRZh2kXKsl3f6d9rmtim20X3t8ue6hPsUf8jEOdqmTulDc8WPDP_g_UOyeQMoW8niHR9w1YCg0FKJijNeS2BpPTCD1QhVNAQvjIML_i/s1600/IMG_2767%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My parents and their housemates, who conveniently live five minutes away from me, were given an espresso/coffee maker that makes single cup servings and it is the most amazing machine ever! The other day, after dealing with a certain child's school related melt down, I called my mom at work and asked/begged for some left-over Christmas candy. "Yes! Of course! It's in the garage. And make yourself a cup of coffee while you're there." She speaks the best words. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HAUa__dDfpIVPU5KwWrZlIs7z7rFkQxS8f__FRyueO1yXlIJ9XzVlg0EyjP_WSasZurATdoSW0jFwdHMO-ZAxNw3bn3-zjhUTobyH4lkzsqfxeKIhVQaFVMayisGferaU-V2-m7a8Uud/s1600/IMG_2769%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HAUa__dDfpIVPU5KwWrZlIs7z7rFkQxS8f__FRyueO1yXlIJ9XzVlg0EyjP_WSasZurATdoSW0jFwdHMO-ZAxNw3bn3-zjhUTobyH4lkzsqfxeKIhVQaFVMayisGferaU-V2-m7a8Uud/s1600/IMG_2769%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While doing school with Abiah I hear Jackson say, "I sink I need help, Momma." Oh dear. He got stuck climbing up to get his sister's flashlight from off the top of the microwave. These kinds of things happen everyday.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7v7waFoBom5AAvrq18muKyzpw0mOcCht4U0vabdP93IE8bZqU7DfGGId35xjE0pP9hvWX1bvYVBKFmB0oiD1itU4NuEFc0x6BprdVn99zOC9WOTolquQSj-z_NAlq2s7Mmbx7LO4xtiCI/s1600/IMG_2779%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7v7waFoBom5AAvrq18muKyzpw0mOcCht4U0vabdP93IE8bZqU7DfGGId35xjE0pP9hvWX1bvYVBKFmB0oiD1itU4NuEFc0x6BprdVn99zOC9WOTolquQSj-z_NAlq2s7Mmbx7LO4xtiCI/s1600/IMG_2779%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My MIL saw these and thought of me. And then she thought of all the chipped bowls in my cupboard and decided I needed these. I love them! And the kids do too. Color makes everything better. And I got rid of five chips bowls and replaced them with eight shiny new ones!</td></tr>
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And the grand finale is a video I took of Jackson guiding the Kitchen Aid as it mixed up our mashed potatoes. He is so helpful in the kitchen. And he's addicting. I love how hard he concentrates on getting his arm to move the right direction. <br />
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What are some of your favorites from this week?pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-47527756114296046822014-01-16T19:28:00.000-08:002014-01-16T19:28:00.136-08:00'Til My Sides HurtThe kids are talking at the dinner table and this is the point of the conversation that I pick up on:<br />
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Hazel: Jesus and his elves made the world.<br />
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Abiah: Jesus doesn't have elves.<br />
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Amelia: God made Ho, Ho, Ho and his elves.<br />
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Abiah: Santa didn't make anything.<br />
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Hazel: Yes! Jesus!<br />
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Jackson climbs up on Abiah's bed and starts singing to him. "Hush little baby. Don't say word. Momm gonna buy you a diamond ring. If that diamond ring turn brass, Momma gonna buy you a Monkey Bird!"<br />
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Hazel is coloring her school work with a marker and begins to hold her nose. I'm leaning close to her so I can see what she is doing. She looks my way and says, "Do you know why I'm doing this?"<br />
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"No. Why?"<br />
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"Because. I farted."<br />
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Jackson, "Mom, can you make me a swanich?"<br />
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During our morning devotions we read about fear and asking Jesus to help us when we are afraid. After the reading I ask the kids, "Is there anything you are afraid of that you can ask Jesus to help you with?"<br />
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Amelia was the first to reply, "Ummmmmm, lions and tigers."<br />
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I was holding Jackson and I burped (thank you, Coke!). Jackson said, "That was burp! I love that burp! It was scusting!"<br />
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During morning devotions we were talking about keeping our eyes on Jesus.<br />
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Abiah said he didn't understand how we can keep our eyes on Jesus if we can't see him. I tried to explain that when we are tempted to sin or are scared we can choose to think about Jesus and let him help us. I said, "Keeping our eyes on Jesus means we can keep our heart focused on Jesus."<br />
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Abiah: "Oh. I didn't know my heart had eyes."<br />
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Jackson when counting anything: "One, two, free, four, six, seven, eight!"<br />
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Hazel was giving us a geography lesson during dinner one night. "Africa is a place where there's lots of zombies!"<br />
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#homeschoolingrocks ;)<br />
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<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-63975795867910312622014-01-15T22:57:00.000-08:002014-01-15T22:57:09.069-08:00Letting Them Love MeA while back I posted on Facebook something along the lines of "I could really use a break , but I can't think of anyone one I'd rather go with than my kids." It was one of those "strong feelings + Facebook = post that's not exactly what I wanted to get across" situations.<br />
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There were quite a few comments of the "Oh! You're so sweet, but mommies need breaks" variety which I totally appreciated, but they left me feeling like I didn't really say what I wanted to. Like I wasn't able to fully put my feelings into words and so I was giving the wrong impression. So people misunderstood.<br />
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I don't know. What ever it was, it left me feeling like I needed to hash those feeling out.<br />
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I'm with my kids almost 24/7. We do pretty much everything together. And I love it. We are all human and far from perfect, but I love my little family and I love that I get to be with them all the time. But I find myself surprised that they want to be with me.<br />
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Though HH knows me better than anyone else, it's my kids who see the nastiest parts of me because they are with me the most. They also challenge me the most. Nothing else in my life has left me feeling so bare and raw like motherhood has. Daily I am faced with my weakness and imperfections. And my kids have a front row seat!<br />
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Recently, after almost a solid two weeks at home due to sickness, I was getting ready to leave for a few hours for my niece's birthday party. I was going alone and was looking forward to a little break and a time to revive and refresh. Conversations with adults! Right before I left the younger three kids started crying because I was going to be leaving. "You get to spend the whole evening with your daddy and you don't get to spend very much time with him. This is a treat!"<br />
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"But Mom," Amelia said, "We don't get to spend very much time with you either!"<br />
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Seriously?!?! While it made me giggle, it brought up the same question in my heart again. They want to be with me? Still?<br />
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I know <i>I</i> want to be with <i>them</i>. I adore them. But in the back of my mind I always think they're tired of me or don't want to be around me because I make so many mistakes. I yell too much and don't play games enough. I'm selfish and distracted. I have a hard time letting them help in the kitchen and I am the main rule enforcer. The list is truly endless.<br />
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But when I thought about it, most times when I desperately <b>need</b>/<b>want</b> to get away, it's because I'm feeling inadequate and frustrated with myself. But they aren't.And this catches me off guard.<br />
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What I'm surprised by is their ability to love me despite my weakness and failings. They love me so unconditionally. And they challenge me to love them back unconditionally. Sometimes it's hard not to take their tantrums and sassing personally, and I assume they would feel the same about my imperfections.<br />
<br />
Just so you know, I'm not saying mommas and daddies don't need breaks. I'm just realizing in my own heart, for me, there are many times where the break that I <i>think</i> I need is really me running from my imperfections and my frustrations with myself. But because parenting is what is bringing those personal weaknesses to the forefront, I turn and blame my children.<br />
<br />
What I think I meant to say in that original Facebook post is that I want to run towards my kids in my raw and bare moments. I want to accept their unconditional love and I want to return it. I want to embrace my weakness and trust that God will be my strength in those moments. I want my kids to see that. I don't want to be afraid of their love.<br />
<br />
Parenting is so very hard and there is nothing that will truly "make you ready" for it. But maybe if we open ourselves to the love and grace our little's have for us it would be just a bit easier?<br />
<br />
Dickens said, "It is not a slight thing when those so fresh from God love us." I think he is right. And I think they can teach us how to love better if we let them. pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-47738885030262004332014-01-10T00:13:00.000-08:002014-01-10T00:13:49.090-08:00'Til My Sides Hurt: Jackson FunniesJackson and Amelia were arguing in their room after I had put them to bed. It was the typical "I'm the boss!" "No! I'm the boss!" argument.<br />
<br />
Amelia came down in tears and I took her back upstairs to settle them both down. As I enter the room Jackson has started up at Amelia again. "I da boss!"<br />
<br />
I sternly corrected him, "No, Jackson. Mommy is the boss and I told you to go to sleep."<br />
<br />
He immediately started crying and said, "No I da boss. Not even Daddy. He a good guy an I a good guy but not even you."<br />
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Holding back laughter I ask, "Why am I the bad guy?"<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4XYTiO2ZyrW7nu6lBcZeyPsgOJWw2DLrxi_gYpopoaaolyirNCdrvkPf5YDu84VkKY8D7nSUvwVH6tKaXz78R4t_2cyQKeh283d9znYfC275YL7PSxX5rqC5eUcEeEkgIE35jRpOCJWu/s1600/IMG_2259%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4XYTiO2ZyrW7nu6lBcZeyPsgOJWw2DLrxi_gYpopoaaolyirNCdrvkPf5YDu84VkKY8D7nSUvwVH6tKaXz78R4t_2cyQKeh283d9znYfC275YL7PSxX5rqC5eUcEeEkgIE35jRpOCJWu/s1600/IMG_2259%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister gives Jackson a pony tail.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"Because, you talk loudly to me!"<br />
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<br />
When coming out of the dark bedroom into the lit up hallway, Jackson exclaims, "It shinning out here!"<br />
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
"Mom, my bed not made. It all crumbly."<br />
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He holds up his fists and says, "Look at my muscles!" <br />
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We, of course, tell him how big his muscles are and that he is such a strong boy.<br />
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Then, with fists still balled, he says, "I gonna punch you with my muscles."<br />
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Apparently he misunderstood what part of his body we were calling muscles, so I have HH show Jackson his bicep. "Jackson, feel this part. That's daddy's muscle."<br />
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Jackson, "It's weely squissy."<br />
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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/AVvXsEjPTfWoBAKvaz6yXvZrzQyjSti5pkOEh-Az_GQ9CFj2034fO2AQJUGlIGlWsP6VToRLC5QNPcdhMZsLtZsL5TucSyH2wkhQiteQMwJFezARrvdYIC-B7Xi7w9RP-qBOi2RRV7hztVzJrT3U/s1600/IMG_2208%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPTfWoBAKvaz6yXvZrzQyjSti5pkOEh-Az_GQ9CFj2034fO2AQJUGlIGlWsP6VToRLC5QNPcdhMZsLtZsL5TucSyH2wkhQiteQMwJFezARrvdYIC-B7Xi7w9RP-qBOi2RRV7hztVzJrT3U/s1600/IMG_2208%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doing his "school"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
P.S. We also corrected the whole punching thing. That just wasn't the cute part.<br />
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
While holding his pinky up for me to see:<br />
<br />
"Mom! Look! I have a peekee! I weely peekee pwomise to not spit at her."<br />
<br />
"Who aren't you going to spit at?"<br />
<br />
"She. Hazo. I weely peekee pwomise to not spit at her." <br />
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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/AVvXsEg3uRTRjViVtM3xbVqYG1uBizKOWO7RDWrJOWoXLdQl5k20Ap9bF9NTK-r0SXMiafPhg1kO34GDPyjyM8ZpWUZFejeMHgJOhWfJmGDy3ztpdQyxIrSpcbfpJ5UxxdLAELiKRNpRhyUsaVq_/s1600/IMG_2680%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3uRTRjViVtM3xbVqYG1uBizKOWO7RDWrJOWoXLdQl5k20Ap9bF9NTK-r0SXMiafPhg1kO34GDPyjyM8ZpWUZFejeMHgJOhWfJmGDy3ztpdQyxIrSpcbfpJ5UxxdLAELiKRNpRhyUsaVq_/s1600/IMG_2680%5B1%5D.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His brother hung him here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
"Mom, I need a snissue for my nose."<br />
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<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-10995495587541888352014-01-07T21:11:00.000-08:002014-01-07T21:11:11.880-08:00Chocolate Cake and Ramblings<i>This post may be a bit silly, but I feel a bit silly. It may be the chocolate cake that I'm about to tell you about. Or it may be that there's been to much serious pondering going on in my head and it needed a break. What ever the reason, here it is.</i><br />
<br />
I've been on an egg free diet for four years this month and yesterday was the first time I thought about searching Pinterest for an eggless chocolate cake. I wish that this was a reflection of the level of my personal discipline, but it is not.<br />
<br />
But enough about that. The thing is, I <b>did</b> search Pinterest for an eggless chocolate cake recipe. <b>And</b> I found one! And it's good!<br />
<br />
I was looking for a recipe so I could make an egg free desert this weekend for our belated Christmas gathering with HH's family. When I found the recipe I was so excited about it's potential that, even though it was only and hour-and-a-half before the kid's bed-time, I bribed them with cake for breakfast if they would hurry into their jammies and sit down to let Netflix babysit them so I could make the cake. They were so excited. And unusually cooperative. When I served them their breakfast of chocolate cake this morning I encouraged (or made) them to sing, "Mommy's great! She gives us chocolate cake!"<br />
<br />
Oddly enough, after eating the cake they all asked for eggs claiming they just needed some protein to go with their breakfast. My children are strange. And healthier than I am. Apparently I'm doing a good job at training them though!<br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/17662623509758552/"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/17662623509758552/">This is the recipe.</a><br />
<br />(Note: I didn't try her frosting recipe. But the cake is good. Also, 180 degrees Celsius means 350 degrees Fahrenheit.)<br />
<br />
I'm sure that part of my obsession with this cake is that fact that I have not had any chocolate cake in four years. But, growing up with a mom for a baker gives me (in my mind) a pretty good background in cake testing. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but I'm pretty much a professional. Except that I don't get paid. Wouldn't it be lovely to get paid to taste test cakes?!<br />
<br />
Other things I loved about that cake: it was very moist and the texture was a lovely combination of dense and fluffy. It was denffy? Flunse?<br />
<br />
But I really think my most favorite part of the cake it that it is supposedly an old recipe from war times when food was rationed. Thus, the egglessness. Chocolate cake and nostalgia all rolled up into one perfect package.<br />
<br />
It may have had more of a nostalgic impact on me since I enjoyed my first piece whilst watching the first episode of the new seasons of Downton Abbey. It just felt right. I loved the episode, too. Although there were many memorable lines, my favorite was from Lady Grantham to Lord Grantham, "When you talk like that, I'm tempted to call nanny, and have you put to bed with no supper." She really makes the show.<br />
<br />
The only downside of watching the premiere was getting to bed an hour later than I planned and needed to. I was a bit tired this morning and maybe a wee sluggish through out the day. But that may also have been from the chocolate cake I had for breakfast. pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-62388802702504863162014-01-01T23:57:00.000-08:002014-01-01T23:57:30.441-08:00A Recap of My 2013<i>I realize that this post is really more for me than anything, but I pushed the publish button just in case someone may be crazy enough to read it through and, if they were, I hope they were encouraged.</i> <br />
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I read <a href="http://www.daveramsey.com/blog/20-things-the-rich-do-every-day">this post by Dave Ramsey</a> this last week and showed it to HH because we had been discussing the "Why" of list making and setting goals. I love to. HH hates to. After he read it he turned to me and, with a laugh, said, "So basically, you should be rich and I should be poor?"<br />
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That wasn't exactly the point I was trying to get across, but whatever. I love to make lists and only recently have realized that making lists is like setting goals. For a few years I hated the idea of New Year's resolutions. They made me feel like a failure. In advance.<br />
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A few years ago, though, I changed my perspective and now, instead of seeing the list of things I failed to accomplish, I purpose to look at all I did accomplish that I probably wouldn't have without goals.<br />
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If you look at the list I wrote for last year I wouldn't blame you for assuming that I came up way short of my goal. But there is this part preceding the actual list. The part where I spilled my heart for the year on the page. When I read that today, after I had already written down my goals for 2014, I knew. I had reached my goals for 2013.<br />
<br />
<i>"Tomorrow is the start of a new year. In a way I look forward to the next 12 months. So much potential awaits in the white space that makes up 2013. But I'm also afraid that it will be another year that I disappoint myself. A year that I'll waste the white space and fail in so many other ways. It is disappointing to get to the end of another year and realize that my goals for the next year are no different than the previous because I failed to meet any of my goals. It's not that I haven't grown or changed. I can acknowledge that much. But I want more. I want to grow and succeed. I want this to be the last year that my weight is part of my yearly goal. I want to know more deeply who I am as defined by Christ. I don't need a different mission or an outlet. I want to be who I was created to be right where I am at. I love my husband and my kids. I love living for them. I want to be more settled into me as a wife and mom. I want to be a better friend and teacher to my kids. But I know I'll only find that in knowing who I am in Christ."</i><br />
<br />
After this I wrote my goals. <br />
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My first written goal was to read through the Bible. I'm so proud of myself. I got half way through my reading plan. I've never read that much of the Bible in one year.<br />
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My second written goal was to FINALLY lose the weight I've been struggling with for too many years to count. I listed the actual numbers, something I won't do here. :) And if you looked at those numbers and then at my scale while I'm standing on it and saw that I only lost 10 pounds this last year, you'd probably raise an eye brow and tell me I have a pretty face. ;) But the true weight I lost was a weight in my heart. And I honestly can say I met my goal.<br />
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It's not that I needed for me to lose an allotted amount of weight last year. What I wanted was to find freedom from using food as a drug. I wanted to look into my heart and my past and take care of the wounds, release the bitterness, and forgive the offenses that I was holding onto and replaying over and over when I was down. All of those things always left me feeling a need to medicate or numb myself. It was more than I could take. And so I would eat. Some people drink. Some people smoke. Some use drugs. I ate.<br />
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It's not that I don't plan to loose any more weight. It's just that it's not <b>just</b> about the weight anymore. And I still struggle, but not like I used too. This last year I learned how to fight. I was encouraged by this quote from Joyce Meyers, "You are not fighting for victory. You are fighting FROM victory." My view has changed.<br />
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I wish I would have had the freedom to journey through it here with you all so maybe it wouldn't seem so random of me to say it now, but I just couldn't. Somethings are too personal and somethings are just hard for me to put into words. I will say I read/worked through the Lose It For Life book and journal and it was one of the main tools this year that helped me find freedom. <br />
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My other written goal for 2013 was to save a certain amount of money. That <b>so</b> didn't happen. But again, even though this year has been hard, I'm happy and excited about where HH and I are financially. Not because we have tons of money, but because it feels like we are finally working towards the same goal. (We wrote out a budget for January and are trying to stick to it like glue. Shhhhhh! Don't tell HH that we really made a list and goals! He may be tempted to burn it just for the sake of being right!)<br />
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As for the other desires I wrote down, even though I feel like I am failing in so many areas multiple times a day as a wife and mom, I am so proud of how far I have come. Maybe some of the change has come from realizing that every day doesn't have to look the same for us to be productive (list making/efficiency addict finds freedom!).<br />
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I know that a big change happened when I realized that I love my life. That may sound strange, but I think I was afraid of admitting that I love to homeschool and spend most of my time with my kids. I felt like I was supposed to want more. Not that I don't ever need a break, but I truly love what I do. I don't homeschool and stay at home with my kids out of fear or because it's easy or because my husband makes me (which is what I used to think :)) or even out of conviction. I do it because I want to. Because I love it. This is what I always wanted to do, and I am so glad I get to do what I love.<br />
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I just read this quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald and I think it really sums up what I accomplished in 2013:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"For what it's worth; it's never too late to be whoever you want to be. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I hope you live a life you're proud of, and if you find that you're not, </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I hope you have the strength to start all over again." </i></div>
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I feel like I reach my ultimate goal of 2013. Knowing more deeply who I am in Christ. And really, that's the main purpose behind my goals for 2014.<br />
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<br />pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694236001954507643.post-86538766726426485102013-12-26T22:01:00.002-08:002013-12-26T22:01:54.995-08:00The Christmas Pajamas 2013 and traditionsI was at a Christmas party recently where guests were asked to share a Christmas family tradition. Since we are really still a young family we don't have many traditions yet. Only in the last few years have we done a whole Christmas Eve and Christmas day with just our little clan so we are still creating those traditions. I think I shared the tradition that you'll see in this post; the kids in their Christmas Eve pajamas.<br />
<br />
As others were sharing I remembered a childhood tradition but I didn't have time to share it at the party so I thought I would share it here. Because it's that good. <br />
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Growing up our family had quite a few traditions. Some we loved and some we have been okay letting go of. This one falls in the middle. Our Great Grandma, or Old Old Grandma as we called her, lived in Idaho and so every year she sent presents. She would call our mom early in the fall, ask our ages and sizes, and then drive herself to Sears and buy us clearance underwear... from the women's department. Big, taupe granny panties.<br />
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Our family's tradition was to open presents from our out of state family on Christmas Eve and then presents and stockings from our parents on Christmas morning. We all have strong, humorous memories of the anticipation and dread of opening Old Old Grandma's gifts.<br />
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We anticipated finding out who got the largest most hideous pair that year, but we dreaded knowing what we were getting. Because it wasn't just a monstrous pair of granny panties that we were receiving. We also received the privilege of returning said underwear to Sears in after-Christmas crowds, getting an in-store credit of $4.95 per child and then trying to figure out what the heck you could buy with $4.95 from Sears. Plus the humiliation of returning huge taupe granny panties. <br />
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Needless to say, we were all pleased when Old Old Grandma started sending $5 checks in individually labeled envelopes.<br />
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I've thought about hiring someone to send my kids huge taupe granny panties just because the memory is such a fun one, but for now we'll start with new pajamas on Christmas Eve.<br />
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This year I wrapped all four sets in one box and included some candy and popcorn and we had a movie night after the kids got changed into their new pj's. We watched White Christmas. It was the kids' first time and I think we'll add that to our tradition.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8t4TSvMirOpB00c32-MdSk9D_lTk7oJuOCmSfJUHeOCy5sAf9bnApSjvvUP8mhuTWzCHxx-TQBYM6kjPadwXnYC_v-UlMFZR9cq41zoZkxqe7Sgm6ZvIVo9N6Bs3DIhtI6DzRxgmGRHb/s1600/IMG_2676%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8t4TSvMirOpB00c32-MdSk9D_lTk7oJuOCmSfJUHeOCy5sAf9bnApSjvvUP8mhuTWzCHxx-TQBYM6kjPadwXnYC_v-UlMFZR9cq41zoZkxqe7Sgm6ZvIVo9N6Bs3DIhtI6DzRxgmGRHb/s320/IMG_2676%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
So, to continue on with the picture tradition (although this year we didn't have a tree).<br />
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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/AVvXsEh_LoSSmcXzUiLQ4w8jIATOgMfzPeSEpAFjpz-2IWfieS0D3qXIlH16iH6eLpK7qkhqF-pWClu1KuAgBxrds5rhzA1UyCZdErru9tdx7-WXvIT5jhRkK34RFXAlNKHisioauQAHWse7WBuC/s1600/DSCF0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LoSSmcXzUiLQ4w8jIATOgMfzPeSEpAFjpz-2IWfieS0D3qXIlH16iH6eLpK7qkhqF-pWClu1KuAgBxrds5rhzA1UyCZdErru9tdx7-WXvIT5jhRkK34RFXAlNKHisioauQAHWse7WBuC/s320/DSCF0277.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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/AVvXsEj3bckp5T5hoyNjn1tVIPyRAoHqt6CBq6pIUnjAAuzxwgk9XHUeZemEpH-oQA3W2T-xVngzZqUFYrIA_psoWlhDxEJmZBhDOzpqjZfX2cuc3NGzesO0pSmNqEi3ktaESVNu5VvUeugQa4Qw/s1600/Dec2012+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3bckp5T5hoyNjn1tVIPyRAoHqt6CBq6pIUnjAAuzxwgk9XHUeZemEpH-oQA3W2T-xVngzZqUFYrIA_psoWlhDxEJmZBhDOzpqjZfX2cuc3NGzesO0pSmNqEi3ktaESVNu5VvUeugQa4Qw/s320/Dec2012+010.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas 2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWaMd2TVDI5p7FGS1b0f1NxWima2bSQoLOyEb7lE-lLJmXZdtEtI-8tPYoA8e6yjm56NCgrd_0JbLAnWwVj_kFg6-ugAPmQepvFJCweZwHfvQpR5Uhg_mfybVA88m_q2UcrJprbaKGWOV/s1600/IMG_2688%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWaMd2TVDI5p7FGS1b0f1NxWima2bSQoLOyEb7lE-lLJmXZdtEtI-8tPYoA8e6yjm56NCgrd_0JbLAnWwVj_kFg6-ugAPmQepvFJCweZwHfvQpR5Uhg_mfybVA88m_q2UcrJprbaKGWOV/s320/IMG_2688%255B1%255D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
They are all so big! And wonderful! What are some of your traditions? Maybe we can borrow some. :)pistolsnprincesseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16067170793713995417noreply@blogger.com2