tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75863255326941969852024-03-13T06:19:57.462-04:00CornucopiaI harvest pieces of time from hour plates. I am a collector of the past. -Marianna FulgerAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.comBlogger456125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-66621289037873257682013-04-27T03:36:00.000-04:002013-04-27T03:36:37.691-04:00<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LzreWfgmUFc/UXt_Y-ff82I/AAAAAAAAZRc/qbsOQ-zRHQU/s1600/IMG_0772a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LzreWfgmUFc/UXt_Y-ff82I/AAAAAAAAZRc/qbsOQ-zRHQU/s400/IMG_0772a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />Click the link below to find your way there:<br /><a href="http://www.myhappylittlethoughts.wordpress.com/">www.myhappylittlethoughts.wordpress.com</a></span></td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-33001411580692773222013-03-02T16:53:00.003-05:002013-03-02T16:54:44.509-05:00bad newsI have some bad news.<br />
Our wireless internet in our apartment is not working up to par. This is due to the internal "guts and gizzards" of our laptop...not the actual internet itself.<br />
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And although I do have other various ways to connect to the internet....it's proving to be too difficult of a process. I can't balance fitting in the time to "play" alongside actually LIVING my life WELL.<br />
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That being said, I'll be taking an indefinite hiatus. <br />
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I won't stop blogging forever.<br />
It just will no longer be a priority.<br />
I will try to blog when the opportunities present themselves. And they will have to be obvious opportunities. I can no longer take the time to "create" such "opportunities". It's getting too hard.<br />
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And believe it or not, I feel that this whole thing is of a divine nature. I can sense the hand of God gently pressing down. I really believe that this is another lesson to be learned, taught by my loving God. I have some room to grow in the area of <i style="font-weight: bold;">selfishness</i>. I need to live my life God's way. <i>Not</i> my way. <br />
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Will I miss blogging and writing? More than you could even fathom! But it's what's needed. It's what is currently best.<br />
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In the words of Samuel,<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening. </span></i></b></blockquote>
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(1 Samuel 3:9)</blockquote>
Here's to taking time to PAUSE and CONNECT to reality, rather than escaping from it.<br />
Here's to Happy <u>Living</u>!<br />
<br />
p.s. You can still find me on Instagram (mrsmweston) and Twitter (@mrsmweston) to watch me harvest pieces of time!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-80426737345566816602013-02-21T15:05:00.001-05:002013-02-21T19:39:40.304-05:00someday soon my heart will finally settle downMike has been sending out lots of resumes recently. He will graduate in May 2013. (HOORAY!) And because we are in a year-long internship, we will stay here in Rochester through July 2013.<br />
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My mind constantly races. Meaning? I never stop thinking. My brain is like a hamster in a eternal exercise wheel. So whenever I'm doing <i>anything, </i>my mind is analyzing my life. If I'm doing dishes, I'm thinking. If I'm driving, thinking. Making the beds, thinking. Folding laundry, thinking. Eating. Reading. Crafting. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.<br />
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Do I get tired? Yes. Always. But I'm used to it. And I'm grateful that God has given me this mind and gives me the knowledge and ideas to fill it with. I really do think of it as a gift. But it does get tiring. There are days, to be honest, I'd like to turn it off. But then, I decide that's not for the best...because, knowing my luck, that would be when the best idea of ALL TIME would hit me...and I wouldn't even know it.<br />
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But a particular thought came to mind today as I was sewing a baby gift for a baby shower I'm attending on Saturday...<br />
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I am finally going to know what it feels like to be "settled".</div>
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Mike and I have not stayed in the same place for very long through out our 7-1/2 years of marriage. And don't get me wrong, I have adored, cherished, and LOVED this adventure we are living. We are filling our memory banks to the BRIM with lots of happy-goodness. We have met so many WONDERFUL and AMAZING friends (aka. family) each place we have lived. Experienced so much local flavor. And we have had the chance to eat at some pretty phenominal restautrants (I think it's safe to consider ourselves restaurant foodies)....and not chain-restaurants..."diamonds in the rough" restaurants...the ones you only know about through word-of-mouth...or find by accident. </div>
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At the same time, I am enchanted by the lives of those who are "settled". Isn't that funny? We all want whats on the "other side of the fence"! Moving around has made this life lonely. And I know being "settled" isn't a cure for loneliness...but it will be one less time where I have to "start over" in the friend department. I love making new friends!!! TOTALLY!! But it's emotionally taxing. (Will she like me? Does she think I'm weird? Well...<i>I am</i>...but have I shown her "too much" weird-ness up front? How much is too much? Did I say the wrong thing? Did I say too much? I need to stop talking! Why can't I ever stop talking???! I really hope she wants to be my friend...)</div>
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I also want to have town/city that "belongs" to me. Where I know how to navigate the back-roads around town. Where I know my mail-man. Learn my neighbors names. Have a church home. Invest my life. Make a difference right where I am. Live fully. Plant flowers. And roots.</div>
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I'm excited to call somePLACE my home.</div>
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I don't expect life to get "better"...because I think my life is "better" right now. So don't mis-interpert what I'm trying to say. It will just be a different kind of "nice".<br />
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What I'm trying to say is this:<br />
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It will just be nice to have my heart stay-put for a few years.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-82142688428346859962013-02-17T14:36:00.003-05:002013-02-17T14:47:28.020-05:00my {heart} dayI bet you are wondering how I spent my valentine's day.<br />
I'm sure of it. *cough, cough*<br />
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The day before the big "V" day...I took a quick trip to the dollar store (because I'm not all that big into just throwing my money away to large corporations because <i>they</i> "say" I should...but I am <u>really big</u> into showing my family just how much I love them...and those two things don't <u>have</u> to go hand in hand. It doesn't have to cost a lot to mean a lot.) I wanted to fill my day to the brim with actions of love and kindness!<br />
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So I bought a few small and sweet things for my kiddos (a *small* box of chocolate and a v-day balloon). I bought 3 red candles, some heart-garland to wrap around them, and a few conversation candy hearts in order to create a simple center-piece for our kitchen table. And I bought Mike a bag of chocolates, that I put inside a v-day vase, and had a "balloon-on-a-stick" stuck into the center of the candy vase. When I got home, I placed Mike's treats on his work desk for him to find in the morning.<br />
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I got up early on Valentine's morning. I set out the kids' treats and my center-piece. And I got to work on breakfast. Homemade pancakes with fresh strawberry puree. I then cut hearts out of my pancakes just like this idea I found <a href="http://www.auntjemima.com/aj_recipes/recipesToppings/recipe.cfm?recipeID=11585" target="_blank">on the internet</a> (I google <i>everything</i>....it's yet <a href="http://enjoymyharvest.blogspot.com/2011/11/5-cleaning-sins-i-commit.html" target="_blank"><u>another</u> sickness</a> I have):<br />
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Super cute...huh??<br />
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I lit the candles and brewed up some coffee as my children slowly woke from their dreams. My daughter and I delivered Mike his coffee in bed (and she brought him a few candies on her own accord...I just LOVE her empathetic, sincere, thoughtful and loving heart.)</div>
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And we all enjoyed a nice breakfast as a family...complete with strawberry milk, of course.</div>
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I made sure to cut hearts out of cheese for lunch and made a few chocolate covered strawberries.</div>
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Not too much of a <i>fancy</i> day...but enough to make my family feel special. (And enough hugs, cuddles, kisses, and snuggles all day long...to get the message across loud and clear.)</div>
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Later that night, Mike and I went out to dinner and coffee. And what I love is: our friends. Friends that are willing to "swap" with us. Meaning? They watch our kids so we can sneak out on a date on one night. And the next night, we watch their sweet little 15-month-old man so they can sneak out for their date. Perfection. Not only do our kids have fun with each other AND we all get a night out to reconnect with our significant others...BUT we are helping each other protect our marriages. Because it's SO IMPORTANT to make date nights a priority...regardless of the occasion! (And it didn't cost either us a red-cent for a baby-sitter! Score!)</div>
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What a great day. It was not only lots of fun and filled with endless sweetness, it reminded me how beyond blessed I am in this life:</div>
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<li>with a loving husband</li>
<li>wonderful & happy children</li>
<li>great friends</li>
<li>a good God</li>
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What more does one need?? Except maybe a good cup of coffee...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://media.beta.photobucket.com/user/mmartinezg09/media/heart-hearts-mug-photography-pink-Favimcom-127792.jpg.html?filters[term]=pink%20hearts%20photography&filters[primary]=images&filters[secondary]=videos&sort=1&o=10" target="_blank">photo credit</a></span></td></tr>
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....I'm on that.</div>
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Happy Sunday, everyone!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-14840701750632370212013-02-16T21:56:00.000-05:002013-02-16T22:06:41.018-05:00different and betterWe celebrated the Lord's Supper this past Wednesday. It was different than "normal". And it was better. A lot better. Because this time we celebrated it with just our community group. It was the first time (and a first for most) to celebrate it in a private and intimate setting. I am used to corporate participation - with our entire church.<br />
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It's interesting how "tradition" can quickly become the "only" method - even if that's not the only way God allows it to happen.<br />
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I never paid attention to what the early church described in the book of Acts did: they broke bread (aka. the Lord's table) in each other's HOMES.<br />
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<i>And they devoted themselves to the apostles teaching and the fellowship to the <u>breaking of bread</u> and the prayers and awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being down through the apostles. And all who believed were woven together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and <u>breaking bread in their homes</u>, they received their food with glad and generous hearts... Acts 2:42-46</i> </blockquote>
Celebrating the Lord's table so intimately with my community group was strange, different and completely out of my comfort zone...<br />
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i loved it.</div>
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Especially when we passed around the bread and physically broke our own piece off of the loaf. Such deep symbolism transformed into hard reality...in my hands. It brought me to tears. Hot, burning, grateful tears. It was such a powerful image of Christ's sacrifice...for ME...for <u>my</u> sin.</div>
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Keep an open mind.<br />
Keep learning.<br />
Grow.<br />
And be blessed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-71786410985071704302013-02-12T08:41:00.000-05:002013-02-12T09:05:13.171-05:00potty training: what i did wrong...and finally got right<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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She did it!<br />
She's potty trained!<br />
I have been waiting for this moment with bated breath!<br />
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I introduced the idea to Annaleigh when she was a few months past her 2nd birthday. To be honest...I <i>thought</i> she was ready. I read books. I read blogs. I read websites. I talked to Mamas who have been through this stage of life with their own littles. And all the signs seemed to point to her readiness. And to top it off...she would cry whenever I put a diaper on her. She <i>hated</i> them.<br />
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But what should have been a sign to me that she was <u>no where</u> <i>near</i> ready...was the fact that she would cry for me to put her diaper back on.<br />
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What a paradox...huh? She apparently wanted her cake and eat it too. Don't we all?<br />
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So I figured she would just have to get used to the idea of "underwear". {Ring the 'wrong answer' game-show buzzer right about now.}<br />
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Needless to say...after a few weeks of misery...we both failed. (And trust me...I tried ALL the tricks...tips..and suggestions out there. ALL.)<br />
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I threw up the white flag and threw a diaper back on her. {<i>deep sigh of defeat</i>}<br />
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But I was determined to potty train her. <i>I mean...everyone else's kids where potty training...and my kid was just as "good" as theirs...so Annaleigh should hop on that bandwagon too!</i><br />
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After another valiant attempt a few months later...more failure. <br />
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<b>And that's where I was failing when it came to potty training my daughter. </b>I was the one who was ready. I was feeling "mommy-peer-pressure". I looked around and felt like an inferior mother compared to the rest. <br />
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Comparison. It's evil.<br />
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I thought she'd never learn to use the potty. {I mean...of course I knew she WOULD...but after failing twice...it felt that way!}<br />
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Then I moved to Rochester. And met my internship mentor. She has 5 kids (ages 4-18). I think it's safe to assume she knows what she's doing when it comes to this topic. And she does. A lot. <br />
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She gave me the greatest advice: <b>wait until after her 3rd birthday</b>. She'll be older...she'll understand...and that will make it easier for <b>her</b>. {Notice it would be better for HER...NOT neccesarily me.}<br />
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My "peer-pressured-mommy-brain" couldn't fathom that thought. <br />
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But what did I have to loose? A little pride? I had already lost that twice. So there's wasn't much left. And I was desperate. <br />
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So I did.<br />
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I waited about 2 months after her third birthday. I did one last google search. And I typed in something like: potty training a child who likes to be in control. <b>Because I figured out that this potty training thing was more about a battle of the wills than about pottying.</b><br />
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My new plan was this:<br />
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I'd put her in underwear at age 3.</div>
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I'd set a timer.</div>
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When the timer went off...the timer was telling her to go to the potty...</div>
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not me. </div>
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And then I'd let her go...</div>
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...by herself.</div>
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That's right.</div>
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I was willing to accept the gross potty Apocalypse that could potentially occur in my clean bathroom.</div>
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<b>I wanted to see what would happen if I didn't HOVER over her.</b> Or PESTER her with questions like "do you have to go potty? do you have to go potty? Annaleigh...do you have to go potty???"</div>
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{Disclaimer: Since I had already been through this "process" with her twice before...she knew "how" to do it. She knew the "method": walking into the bathroom...sitting on the potty...trying to "go"...using TP to wipe...getting off when done.}</div>
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The only thing she wasn't sure about was pulling her underwear up and down. But I had some faith that she *might* be able to figure that out. Hopefully.</div>
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But like I said...I wanted to see what would happen. <b>I was willing to accept that the learning process is messy and confusing until....you learn.</b></div>
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And it worked!</div>
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She loved having the power over her own body. And by the end of that week...we no longer needed the timer. And by the end of the next week...I RARELY had to remind her to go. We have had barely any accidents. And we both got away emotionally unscathed.</div>
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And now? It's like the kid never wore a diaper in her life. Unbelievable.</div>
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Sally Clarkson said this in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Desperate-Hope-Mom-Needs-Breathe/dp/1400204666/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1360675882&sr=8-1&keywords=desperate" target="_blank">the book</a> she co-authored:</div>
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"Clay and I found that the more we walked with God, the more we felt called to live our own puzzle according to the integrity of the...parents God had made us, within the limitations of our own personalities...I see so many young women today who live by fear - fear of what others will think, fear of how they might ruin their children, fear of the expectations of other people...I also see women who are afraid to be themselves...It is vitally important for women to learn how to think...for themselves instead of being enslaved to other people's thoughts and opinions.</blockquote>
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<b>Do you think that with such diverse families, as each of us is bound to have, that one single formula could possibly [work]?</b>"<b> </b><i>(emphasis mine)</i></blockquote>
The answer to that rhetorical question is NO.<br />
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What I'm trying to say is this:<br />
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<li><b><u>Don't compare</u> yourself to other Mommys. </b></li>
<li><b><u>Every</u> kid is different.</b></li>
<li><b>Do <i>whatever</i> works for <u>your family</u>.</b></li>
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It takes a lot of the pressure off of us Mommys when we approach ANYTHING in our attempt to child-rear our kids this way.</div>
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So go grab yourself some iced tea and relax. <b>You are a good Mommy.</b> And you're the only Mommy they've ever known. God gave them YOU for a reason. So no matter what you do "well" or "not-so-well"...all you do is the "right" thing to them.</div>
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So get out there and proudly rock your <u>individual</u> "Mommy-ness" today!<br />
Your kids deserve nothing less.</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-31583431509104952832013-02-11T00:11:00.002-05:002013-02-11T00:30:11.643-05:00an item crossed off my bucket list {and too many pictures}I'm pretty excited.<br />
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I REALLY AM!!!!</div>
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One of my photographs was featured <a href="http://www.simpleasthatblog.com/2013/02/simple-things-sunday-photo-link-party_9.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</div>
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It's always been a secret hope of mine to have one of my pictures get noticed by her. And it happened! </div>
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It may not seem like such a big deal to you...but it's a pretty darn awesome accomplishment to me!</div>
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You see...I love photography. Now I don't have any aspirations of going professional any time soon {I don't do well with things when they are "forced" upon me}. I just love to excel and do all things well...for the sake of excellence. And it's challenging. Once you turn those settings to "manual"...you are in charge. You are in control. And a picture comes out good {or bad} because of your choices and quick thinking. I love that. In fact...I think I like the challenge more than the medium. </div>
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I think my ultimate dream when it comes to photography is to be able to represent what my eyes see BETTER than what my eye sees.</div>
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And I feel that <a href="http://www.simpleasthatblog.com/" target="_blank">she</a> does that. And <a href="http://amyemilyphotography.com/blog/" target="_blank">her</a>. </div>
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Someday.</div>
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Until then...getting my name mentioned is a pretty close second.</div>
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I'm so excited about that!</div>
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And here's a bunch of too many pictures. I decided to share {only} a few of my favorite pictures I've taken over the years...</div>
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Great job!</div>
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I'm impressed you kept with it for this long!</div>
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Now go take a 20 minute nap. You deserve it.</div>
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{Scrolling for all the time must have made you exhausted.}</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-32976624163940564742013-02-09T23:16:00.000-05:002013-02-09T23:36:12.367-05:00snowmen are the winter's sandcastle & other blizzard blessingsMy little family and I live in upstate NY. So "Nor'easter Nemo" paid us a lovely visit.<br />
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We ended up with around 16 inches of snow.<br />
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It started flurry-ing Thursday night. And really picked up late Friday morning. It fell fast. <br />
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While it was still snowing, we decided to take advantage of all the fun we could have before it got too deep to move. So we bundled the kids up {which takes longer than the actual time you spend outside...but it's really so worth it} and headed into the big white world.<br />
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We had fun throwing snowballs and building a snowman {Annaleigh & JD's first!}. Laughing. Sweating and getting cold, at the same time. JD constantly face planting into the drifts of snow....then crying...followed by giddy giggles. Teaching Annaleigh the joy of eating fresh snow. Being. a. family. Being happy. Feeling blessed.<br />
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It was wonderful.<br />
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To see a bunch of breathtaking pictures...</div>
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...head on over here.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-1846967726940799412013-02-08T11:32:00.002-05:002013-02-08T12:14:43.527-05:00a few things on Friday 2.8.13<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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1. On Super bowl Sunday, I was getting Annaleigh ready for bed & carrying her to the bathroom {I can't get enough of that girl's cuddles and squeezes...even on the way to the potty...}. I then slipped on a toy that was hiding on the stairs. We both fell. Her head slammed into the wooden molding at the base of the cornered part of the wall. It caused a severe laceration. And a lot of blood. We took her to the ER where they gave her liquid stitches. The next day a very large bump and bruise appeared. And now, just yesterday, black eyes started to form. But she's ok! She's so brave. A real trooper. She didn't even cry in the hospital as the doctors and nurses cared for her. And she went right back to her sweet, normal self once she got patched up {and I'm sure it had <i>nothing</i> to with the orange popsicle we gave her when we got home at 3am...mom of the year...right here}. All the while telling her upset Mama, "I'm OK Mama. I love you." Bless. her. heart.</div>
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2. John David said his first word!! Yes, he's 18 months old. And no, he doesn't talk yet. {He knows some basic sign language...so that helps with communicating with him.} And much to my husbands disappointment, his first word wasn't "Syracuse" or "Orange" or "Otto". It was the word, "Pinkies". haha! True story. But that's because we do "pinkie swears" with our kiddos all the time...not for the sake of a promise...but because it's fun to do. And we yell the word, "PINKIES!" each time we do it. What's even funnier, is that pinkie-swears aren't an ole-time-tradition in this house. It just started about a week ago. Apparently, it's a fun enough game to be worthy of a word! I'll take it!</div>
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3. Mike has started sending resumes out. Literally, ALL OVER. We are just praying someone likes his resume enough to give us a call back. We are excited to see how the Lord directs us in all this! It's such an adventure!!</div>
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4. I am currently interested in typography {aka. handlettering}. It's so much fun. I've always liked to draw. And I've always tried to write in different fonts my whole life {just because I wanted seriously-cool handwriting that people would envy...I know...weird.} It's a lot harder than I thought! There's a method and a science behind it. Just like with anything, really. So I'm attempting to teach myself. I'm doing tons of research and TONS of practice...practice...and more practice...</div>
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5. And most days, I get discouraged with the news and with the politics of this country. I'm always thinking to myself, <i>is there any hope left for our nation?</i> Most days I'd say no...there isn't. But then someone gives a speech <a href="http://www.c-spanvideo.org/clip/4353213" target="_blank">LIKE THIS</a> in the immediate & direct presence of the President of the United States. And I'm reminded that #1) God is still in control, and #2) there are still people in this world doing lots of good things. So chin up. All is not lost.</div>
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Happy Friday!!</div>
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Dance partying with Abby over here:</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-63159405289809891252013-02-07T12:30:00.001-05:002013-02-07T12:30:05.181-05:00writing *almost* everydayI didn't write a post yesterday! ACK!<br />
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Wednesdays are INCREDIBLY difficult for me to find time...for <i>anything</i>.<br />
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It's my busiest day of the week.<br />
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I attend a local <a href="http://www.communitybiblestudy.org/" target="_blank">Community Bible Study</a> in the morning...so we have to leave the house at 9am. The kids and I get home and eat lunch. I then put them both down for a nap. I clean like a crazy woman to prepare for the sitter that's coming. They wake up. I make a quick dinner (as they claw at my legs for attention). I hop in the car to pick up the sitter. Mike and I speed off to our <a href="http://www.northridgerochester.com/NextSteps/CommunityGroups" target="_blank">community group</a>. We get home at 9:30pm. I drive the sitter home. Mike puts JD to bed. I return. I read books to Annaleigh and put her to bed. By the time the whirlwind of a day is over...it's 10:30pm. And I am NOT a night-person. I hit the couch and CRASH. <br />
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There's barely a moment to think! Let alone put coherent thoughts to paper...err...to screen.<br />
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I knew this was coming too. Maybe it was self-fulfilling prophecy? Next week...I'll try and prepare a post in advance. <br />
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How do you handle your busy days? Do you practice "planned neglect"? Or do you do major preparation when you know the "crazy" is coming? Or do you do like me...and deal with the messy after-math of failed responsibilities?<br />
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Here's to writing 27 days in February!!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-39537770597009545802013-02-05T23:07:00.000-05:002013-02-05T23:22:38.156-05:00money raised. money given. lives changed.<div style="text-align: justify;">
Do you remember <a href="http://enjoymyharvest.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-advent-conspiracy.html" target="_blank">this post</a> I wrote prior to Christmas?</div>
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Well here is the result. I'd say God used the people of <a href="http://www.northridgerochester.com/">Northridge</a> to <a href="http://www.adventconspiracy.org/">reclaim Christmas</a> for the city of Rochester and beyond. Don't you?</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/58907357?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=ffffff" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/58907357">Advent Conspiracy Giveaway</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/northridgeleaders">Northridge Media</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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All the praise. All the glory. All the honor. Belongs to God.</div>
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I am grateful to be a part of <a href="http://www.northridgerochester.com/AboutUs">this body of believers</a>. Even if only for one year. #unbelievable #OnlyGod</div>
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This is where the rubber meets the road. This is REAL Biblical and God-honoring Christianity put into action! The people of God working TOGETHER to make a POSITIVE difference in our communities and around the world.</div>
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This internship has been AMAZING....to say the very least.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-4696203472980711282013-02-04T01:12:00.000-05:002013-02-04T01:20:06.736-05:00my crafty christmas {a promise kept}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I had written this Facebook status on December 21st:</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i>When I bought that remnant of fabric for $8.95, I winced. (It's a bit pricey for a remnant.) But I'm glad I did! I have been able to sew FIVE Christmas gifts from that bad boy!!! That's $1.79/gift!!! (And there's NO WAY the things I made would cost $1.79 in the stores.) Can I get a "like" from all the fellow-crafters and DIYers out there??!! woot! woot!</i></span></blockquote>
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Many of my friends and family were curious as to what I made. They begged me to post pictures. And I really wanted to tell them all. But...they were Christmas gifts for my family. And my family follows me on FB. So that means they would have seen all their gifts BEFORE Christmas. That just wouldn't be cool. Ya know?</div>
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So I promised them all that I would post pictures of my crafty sewing creations AFTER Christmas was over. So here they are -with the titles as links to the tutorials I used!</div>
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The following pictures are the gifts from the remnant AND some other gifts I crafted from material I already owned. That means I only spent $8.95 on my family this Christmas. But if you ask me...they don't look that cheap!</div>
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<a href="http://betulaloo.blogspot.com/2012/03/phone-charging-pocket-tutorial.html">Phone Charging Pocket</a> {<a href="http://betulaloo.blogspot.com/">Betula Loo Blog</a>}</div>
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This was part of that remnant material I mentioned in my FB status (which was a blue canvas). </div>
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I made 3 of these.</div>
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<a href="http://www.craftstylish.com/item/31166/how-to-make-a-roll-up-tool-organizer-complete-with-embroidered-size-labels/page/all">Roll-Up Tool Organizer</a> {<a href="http://www.craftstylish.com/">CraftSylish Blog</a>}</div>
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I made 2 of these.</div>
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These were also made from that blue canvas remnant.<br />
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<a href="http://sometimescrafter.blogspot.com/2009/04/tutorial-fabric-scrap-basket.html">Fabric Scrap Basket</a> {<a href="http://sometimescrafter.blogspot.com/">The Sometimes Crafter Blog</a>}</div>
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I added handles to the baskets.</div>
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I also made them three different sizes so they would be "nesting" baskets.<br />
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<a href="http://www.noodle-head.com/2012/06/open-wide-zippered-pouch-tutorial-size.html">Open Wide Zipper Pouch</a> {<a href="http://www.noodle-head.com/">Noodlehead Blog</a>}</div>
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<a href="http://www.michaelmillerfabrics.com/Blog/Classic_Apron.pdf">Classic Apron for Kids</a> {<a href="http://www.makingitfun.blogspot.com/">Making It Fun Blog</a>}</div>
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<a href="http://littlebirdiesecrets.blogspot.com/2011/01/crochet-hook-clutch-tutorial-get.html">Crochet Hook Clutch</a> {<a href="http://littlebirdiesecrets.blogspot.com/">Little Birdie Secrets Blog</a>}</div>
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Happy Crafting!<br />
Happy Monday!<br />
And here's to keeping promises!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-83564659062326274282013-02-03T17:14:00.001-05:002013-02-03T17:24:04.010-05:00dear john david<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Your Mama hasn't written to you much on this here blog. But it's for good reason. Since the day you were bor<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">n</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">, </span><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">I've spent most of my days hugging and kissing on you. You are my sweet distraction. I also have an obsession with baby cheeks. While I was pregnant</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> I prayed you'd have a perfect set of them. And my prayers were answered. And distract me all the more.</span></div>
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But that doesn't mean all the wonderful things you do pass by me without notice. No sir. I keep a journal for you. And I quickly write down all the snippets of your life so I can be sure the special baby you are is recorded for all time. </div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">My love for you runs deep</span></span>,<span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> my boy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;">I was always been told that there is a special and mysterious bond between a son and his mother. I have found it to be true. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">The moment you were born</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> a tender spot was created and nuzzled inside just for you. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">You are my "bubba"; my "monster man". You are a boy through and through. The sweetest terror on two feet. You love sports. You love footballs</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> baseballs</span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> basketballs</span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> hockey pucks</span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> and golf clubs. And anything has the potential to become an airborne torpedo. You eat food as if it would no longer exist tomorrow. Except pancakes and scrambled eggs. Those food items you could always do without.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;">You are a goofball. Always teasing. Always laughing. Always finding trouble. Terrorizing your sister...and blaming it on her. Hoping someone will tackle you to the ground and wrestle. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;">Your first teeth came in late. Exactly one week prior to your first birthday. And now you have 10! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">And you still haven't uttered a single word. {<i>Although I firmly believe you say "aaa-ma" for "Mama"</i>.} You prefer to point and grunt. I mean</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">, </span><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">why change? Everyone around you understands exactly what you mean.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Although I would consider you a "classic" boy</span></span>,<span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> you are extremely tender. Your feelings get hurt easy and you can't stand it when you don't accomplish things after your first try. You rip at your shirt hulk-style when you get mad. And nearly faint from forgetting to breathe.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">But it's easy to get you to laugh smile and forget what the fuss was all about.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">You are loyal to those you love. And worship your sissy. You copy your sissy. And you hate to be without her. She is your rock-star.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">You never sit still. And cuddle-time is rare. So forgive me when I rejoice in the times your are sick. It's really the only time you want to snuggle. Most days</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> when I try to create snuggling-opportunities</span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> you see it as a chance to turn me into your personal human jungle-gym.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">You bring me immeasurable joy. Joy I didn't even know I needed in my life. And I need you in my life</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> sweet boy. Whenever I'm sad and forget what this life is all about</span><span style="text-align: justify;">,</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> I simply gaze into those brown eyes of yours and my heart skips a beat. I become warm all over. And I'm instantly mesmerized</span><span style="color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> by your love. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">You are so special. You belong here with us. I love you. More than you will ever know.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">And I'm so glad you are mine.</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-16210303875287295832013-02-02T21:31:00.002-05:002013-02-02T22:55:22.718-05:00all i can hope for...is to one day escape with Him<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's 12 hours later than I had originally planned to blog today. Not much else went as planned either. Sometimes you wake up and you can feel it in the air. A heaviness. A sense that <i>something</i> is going to happen...and it probably won't be good.</div>
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Well...that day was today for me.</div>
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And it was bad.</div>
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And I cried.</div>
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A lot.</div>
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And I don't think my frame of mind has changed just yet either. <i>I'm still in a generally yucky mood. I need some M&Ms. </i>And I can't seem to muster up something super profound...life changing...or fantastic. So I'll leave that up to God. He writes better than me anyway. So this about sums it up:</div>
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For the good that I want...I do not do...but I practice the very evil that I do not want. But if I am doing the very thing I do not want I am no longer the one doing it but sin which dwells in me. Romans 7:19-20</div>
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Another great author...<a href="http://sarahmae.com/">Sarah Mae</a> wrote this in her <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Desperate-Hope-Mom-Needs-Breathe/dp/1400204666/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1359859169&sr=8-1&keywords=desperate">new book</a> I'm reading:</div>
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We live in a fallen world so things will always tend toward disorder...children will always cry and you will always sin...but God gives you grace and the Holy Spirit to make it through. When life tends towards disorder...go straight to God and ask Him for His grace to walk in the Holy Spirit.</div>
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Which reminds me of this:</div>
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For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing...but to us who are being saved it is the <span style="font-size: large;">power</span> of God. 1 Corinthians 1:18</div>
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And this:</div>
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For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin so that <span style="font-size: large;">in him</span> we might become the <span style="font-size: large;">righteousness</span> of God. 2 Corinthians 5:21</div>
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Meaning? I'm going to cut myself some slack. Probably cry a little more. And then rest in the arms of my Savior as He reminds of the hope I have in Him...while eating chocolate...and...</div>
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...waiting for the <span style="font-size: large;">blessed hope</span>...the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ... Titus 2:13</div>
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Days like today get me excited to escape this sinful world...escape the endless "Murphy's Laws"...and endless housework.</div>
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...He has granted to us his <span style="font-size: large;">precious</span> and <span style="font-size: large;">very great promises</span> so that through them you may become a partaker of the divine nature...having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire. 2 Peter 1:4</div>
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And be in the presence of my Father and Lord where all will be made right...and perfect.</div>
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Beloved...we are God's children now...and what will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him...because we shall see him as he is. 1 John 3:2</div>
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My reality is Jesus.</div>
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My future is in Jesus.</div>
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My hope is in Jesus...</div>
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...no matter how bad a day gets.</div>
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Here's hope for a better tomorrow.</div>
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P.S. Besides the hope of Jesus...<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYoqRoY4PVw">this video</a> always brings a big smile to my face. Happy Groundhog Day! Spring's coming early this year!<br />
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These photos were shared over at <a href="http://www.simpleasthatblog.com/2013/02/simple-things-sunday-photo-link-party.html">Simple As That</a>.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-74527429657591168822013-02-01T10:28:00.001-05:002013-02-01T10:34:49.485-05:00my life as a figure skater: behind and beforeYou may not know this about me:<br />
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I was a competitive figure skater for 9 {amazing} years.</div>
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This is a group picture that was taken at the 1996 Bay State Winter Games for our local newspaper. I am in the front row on the left. I was 15. </div>
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I won 2nd place in my group level that year.</div>
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It's pretty much my only claim to "real" fame.</div>
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I first stepped on the ice ate age 11. And I never turned back. My ultimate dream was to go to the Winter Olympics. I wanted to not only attend as a competitor...but I wanted to win it all.</div>
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So all of my energies and efforts and dreams were poured into that sport. I ate figure skating. I drank figure skating. I lived figure skating. If you cut me...I'd bleed ice.</div>
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In school...I wrote all of my creative writing pieces about figure skating. All of my poems...odes...stories. And all of my art projects...science projects...conversations...doodles...all things surrounded my dream.</div>
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I sacrificed friendships...after-school activities...team sports...sleep-overs...good grades...a "normal" teenage life (but really...what's "normal" when you are a teenager anyway...but I digress).</div>
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I was skating 5 days/week during the school year (aka. the competition season). Before and after school. During the summer (aka. the training season)...I still skated 5 days/week...but I would show up at the rink at 7am and not leave until 3 or 4pm. I was involved in ballet...jazz...conditioning...cross-training...and all kinds of ice-time.</div>
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But when I went to college...it all came to an end...and there are a billion reason as to why. All those little reasons added up to one big burn-out.</div>
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Nonetheless...if you cut me today...I'd still bleed ice. </div>
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Yet for quite a few years...I struggled with my identity. With my self-esteem. With living a "normal" everyday life.</div>
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Which has carried over until now.</div>
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Although I am learning every day to be confident in who I am in Christ...to find my identity in Him...find my worth in Him...and to live this mundane life with excellence for Him....I have struggled with one specific thought:</div>
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Why would God allow me to pour SO MUCH OF MY LIFE into figure skating</div>
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for it to amount to <i>nothing</i>??</div>
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I know God is sovereign and does EVERYTHING with a specific purpose. So I "know" it wasn't for <i>nothing</i>: I have incredible self-discipline (almost to a fault)...I know what it's like to work incredibly hard in order to achieve seemingly little...to not count "success" on how much I'm "winning" but on my progress....to accept compliments without excuse and with a simple "thank you"...and to humbly accept criticism as constructive and NEEDFUL for my overall improvement in this life.</div>
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Like I said...it wasn't for <i>nothing.</i></div>
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But it <u>feels</u> like it was for <i>nothing</i>.</div>
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I mean....it's obvious I never made it to the Olympics. Or to a level where I would be recognized....by anybody...except my parents {<i>Hi Mom!</i>}.</div>
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So it feels like <i>nothing</i>.</div>
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Until...</div>
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...last weekend.</div>
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Yes. That's ME! ON THE ICE!!! Wearing my beloved figure skates (I'm pretty sure I have an unhealthy affection towards them...one my husband can't even understand...like...when we went to get them sharpened a few weeks ago...I spent about 10 minutes smelling my freshly sharpened blades...they have the best smell when they get sharpened. You don't get it...do you? Well...think leather. If you like the smell of new leather...you can somewhat understand. Except think...metal. And zamboni fumes. But I digress...again.)</div>
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When Mike presented the opportunity for us to help out the <a href="http://www.yfcrochester.org/">Rochester Youth for Christ</a> and their hockey camp...it came full circle for me. And I cried. I cried to God and begged for forgiveness for not having faith! For not believing He had a purpose and a plan for my life that INCLUDED my figure skating skills. (I had always thought that once I stopped skating...that that was it. Skating would NEVER be a part of my life ever again. I believed that my life in Christ would EXCLUDE figure skating. How wrong was I?! PRAISE GOD!) I cried to God and thanked Him for His greatness and His perfect sovereignty! I thanked Him for the immeasurable JOY in being able to use this God-given gift of skating for His glory!!!</div>
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Every Sunday afternoon...for 9 weeks...Mike and I head down to the Rochester YFC. We hop on the ice and teach the city kids how to skate...and the head coach teaches the more advanced skaters all the fancy hockey drills {which I haven't a CLUE about...}. The hockey skates...gear...helmets...sticks are all GIVEN to the kids for FREE. The lessons are FREE. And the coolest part...when the lessons are over...they eat pizza and HEAR THE GOSPEL.</div>
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All those years of blood...sweat...and tears wasn't in vain. It wasn't for <i>nothing</i>. It was for <i>SOMETHING</i>.</div>
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<i>O LORD you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue...behold O LORD you know it altogether. You hem in me...<b><u>behind and before</u></b>...and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it. </i> </blockquote>
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<i>Psalm 139:1-6</i></blockquote>
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Happy February everyone!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-17845421968636180432013-01-31T04:00:00.000-05:002013-01-31T04:00:10.898-05:00A month's worth of bloggingSpeaking of new goals...<br />
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...I think I'm on a "goal" kick. I don't really know how to psyco-analyze that one. But it's the truth.<br />
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I love blogging. But making it a priority in my life is not easy. I'm a wife of a seminary intern and a mama to 2 littles. Those two jobs, on top of fitting in life (quiet time with God, exercising, cooking, cleaning, ministries, reading, crocheting, dawing, crafting, scrapbooking, etc, etc, etc...) doesn't seem to allow much time for writing.<br />
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>>insert sad face<<<br />
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But that's ok! Sort of. <br />
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That's why I've decided to blog everyday in February. Another real-life friend of mine (and <a href="http://maicolandmandy.blogspot.com/">fellow blogger</a>) did this last year. (I think I'm on a "copy my friends" kick, too. huh. Maybe I do need to psyco-analyze myself...)<br />
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I love the idea of purposing to write. Something. Anything. Just writing! <br />
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But I am a Sanguine to the 1000th degree. And if you know anything about <a href="http://www.askwomennet.com/sanguine-personality.html">the Sanguine personality</a>, you know how well I do with accomplishing my goals and following through on my commitments.<br />
<br />
oh well.<br />
Here's to 28 days of blogging!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-52738575213621989242013-01-30T04:00:00.000-05:002013-01-30T04:00:13.155-05:00i've always wondered what it felt like to live inside a snow globeMoving to Rochester has not been that big of an adjustment.<br />
<br />
Weather-wise, that is.<br />
<br />
I was born and raised in Massachusetts. So I'm used to the snow. I know how to drive in it. I'm not scared to clean off my car. I can shovel and salt like a champ. Bitter cold doesn't bother me. (In fact, on one particular day, I went out early to clean the snow off my car before running a day full of errands. Mike asked me if the kids should wear their hats. I explained how I didn't think it felt cold enough outside for them to wear hats. When we get in the car and start driving, Mike points to the little green numbers indicating the outside temp, and says, "You don't think it's cold??" The temperature read: 10). Basically, I know how to survive a winter quite comfortably...as long as there is some sort of hot beverage close by.<br />
<br />
But the one thing I can't get over is the fact that we live in a snow-globe.<br />
<br />
I'm not kidding.<br />
<br />
It snows nearly EVERY day. Most days it doesn't end up sticking. But it snows, nonetheless.<br />
<br />
Annaleigh said to me one day, "Look Mommy! The snow is falling up!"<br />
<br />
And it was. Just like in a snowglobe.<br />
<br />
I love it. The winter doesn't seem to get that depressing feel to it, because the brown slush is always replaced with a beautiful coat of clean white snow each morning.<br />
<br />
<i>Welcome to Rochester!</i><br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-88023641082188712332013-01-29T10:42:00.003-05:002013-01-29T11:40:44.297-05:00it's not what you look at that matters. it's what you see.<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have already mentioned this concept in a <a href="http://enjoymyharvest.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-ultimate-new-years-resolution-for.html">previous post</a>. But I feel it's worth bringing up again. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I have a real-life friend who is also a<a href="http://jessandrichard.blogspot.com/"> fellow blogger</a>. I have always been amazed at that way in which she processes life. Not that she's perfect (she'd want me to say that), but she helps to redirect my thinking and points me right back to Christ. It keeps things in perspective. She had this <a href="http://jessandrichard.blogspot.com/2013/01/resolutions.html">amazing idea in January 2012</a>. She picked a word. A word that would give her a basic philosophy to focus on throughout the year. A word that would constantly remind her who Christ is, who He is in her life, and how that encourages her to properly relate to the world and the people in it. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">This year, she continued tradition by picking a new word for 2013. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> </span></div>
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Like I said...amazing.</div>
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I have had the priveledge to watch how focusing on that word, focusing on that concept...the mindset it produces...and it has made a huge positive impact. Not only in her own personal life...but in mine.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And like with anything good and worthwhile, I want a piece of that pie.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So I've decided to jump on her bandwagon. </div>
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<br /></div>
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But I struggled. I struggled to find ONE word. And this makes sense...seeing as I can't say anything without a large amount of words. </div>
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So I've settled on a phrase. And it is this:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qSi73G2Wv_A/UQftkIJ5VKI/AAAAAAAAYJs/XmvdWthRGs8/s1600/IMG_2770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qSi73G2Wv_A/UQftkIJ5VKI/AAAAAAAAYJs/XmvdWthRGs8/s320/IMG_2770.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I will ALWAYS BE POSITIVE.</div>
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In the way I think. Speak. Act. Relate. Live.</div>
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I will banish negativety from my life. I will not allow it to enter my mindset. If it does, I will consciously drive it out! </div>
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<br /></div>
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You are what you think. And my life is too good...too blessed...to complain and act grumpy! Besides, if life stinks...how does complaining about it make it better?! It doesn't. It only makes you feel worse because you are focusing on the negative...therefore all will seem lost all the time! So sad! As I've practiced being positive...I've noticed my "circumstances" improving. Not because my circumstances are "better" than usual...but because I SEE them in a better light. I will choose to SEE God's hand of love, widsom and sovereignty in every area of my life all year long.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0uQVXBYc0og/UQfttqyDM7I/AAAAAAAAYJ0/n6SEqqTZPeU/s1600/IMG_2769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0uQVXBYc0og/UQfttqyDM7I/AAAAAAAAYJ0/n6SEqqTZPeU/s320/IMG_2769.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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"....Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable....think about these things." Philippians 4:8</div>
</blockquote>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-13298470096560767452013-01-10T17:06:00.001-05:002013-01-29T12:20:32.912-05:00my home maintance plan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_jiQenwf74/UQgE0Qi6wiI/AAAAAAAAYL0/RVuUlWE4Ce8/s1600/262a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_jiQenwf74/UQgE0Qi6wiI/AAAAAAAAYL0/RVuUlWE4Ce8/s320/262a.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
Someone once told me,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
You should be able to "clean up" your house and make in presentable in 20 minutes.</blockquote>
Excuse me a minute...<br />
<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!</span></div>
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At least that's what I thought 4 years ago.</div>
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I am a terrible housekeeper. I fit into the catergory of "all or nothing". I either clean ALL of the house in one day...or I clean NOTHING at all. There's never been a middle-ground for me.</div>
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This housekeeping journey I've been on since the day Mike and I got married has been a grueling learning experience. Trying to constantly find the right balance. The right methods. </div>
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I'd see how others did it, and then I try and copy them.</div>
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And then I'd fail.</div>
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And I'd go back to my trusty bad habits.</div>
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All the while my poor home seemed to suffer near-condemnation.</div>
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poor home.</div>
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Until today. I was sweeping our hallway. And in that moment, I realized, "I think I've done it!"</div>
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<br /></div>
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As I continued to sweep, I further realized that if someone came knocking on my door, I wouldn't feel immediate panic. WHAT JOY that is to feel that way!</div>
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Not that my house is white-glove clean. (it's not) But that it's presentable. There are toys on my floor, but not ALL the toys. There are dishes on one side of my sink, but they are CLEAN. My bed is made. And my bathroom smells pretty.</div>
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How did I accomplish such a coveted circumstance??</div>
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I have disciplined myself.</div>
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It's taken a lot of work. And I have to PURPOSE to do the following things whether I "feel" like it or not. Even the Bible says in Hebrews 12:11, "For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it."</div>
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<br /></div>
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I do just ONE BIG thing a day: </div>
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Monday - clean the bathroom </div>
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Tuesday - clean the bedrooms/change sheets</div>
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Wednesday - clean the kitchen/clean out fridge</div>
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Thursday - sweep/vacuum/mop</div>
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Friday - errands/grocery shop</div>
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Saturday - dust/shed junk</div>
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Sunday - rest</div>
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<br /></div>
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As well as do THREE SMALL things a day: </div>
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#1 I do the dishes (I don't have a dishwasher appliance) after EVERY meal</div>
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#2 I make the beds</div>
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#3 I do one load of laundry</div>
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It breaks down like this:</div>
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I don't clean my house to make it PERFECTLY clean and PERFECTLY presentable in one exhausted attempt.</div>
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I MAINTAIN my home so it EASILY stays clean and presentable. And I LEARN to be OK if parts of my house still need some "sprucing up". I LEARN to be satisfied in what I have done rather than be dissatisfied with what I haven't done.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So if someone were to say to me today,</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
You should be able to "clean up" your house and make it presentable in 20 minutes.</blockquote>
I can say, "YES!"<br />
<br />
My additional hope is to teach my daughter at a young age this idea of "maintainence", of doing one big task daily. I pray that when she gets married, the transition of becoming a homemaker will be seamless! And she will be able to find the JOY that can be found in doing these tasks so much sooner than I was able to! May her "discipline" in these areas happen while she is still my daughter rather than learning them too late. Dear Lord, may it be so.<br />
<br />
What tips/methods have YOU found to be helpful in maintaining your home?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-1901534253830662292013-01-08T12:31:00.000-05:002013-01-08T13:07:15.242-05:00i'm tired of feeling desperate. it ends today.December 4 2009.<br />
<div>
The day my life changed forever.</div>
<div>
It was the day I was told I might die.</div>
<div>
I might die because of the sweet child that rests inside my womb.</div>
<div>
Her body and my body..together..created a toxin so potent it could kill us both.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Some general anesthesia...an emergency c-section...and a few hours later...my beautiful daughter lay in the safety of my warm embrace.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RFmgx0-3Ktk/UOxWQYvJoTI/AAAAAAAAA40/FapBDEcaNug/s1600/Annaleigh+Dec+09+091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RFmgx0-3Ktk/UOxWQYvJoTI/AAAAAAAAA40/FapBDEcaNug/s1600/Annaleigh+Dec+09+091.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And I loved her.</div>
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I loved her more than my own life. </div>
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But yet...the irony of her birth-coming should have been a clear sign of things to come.</div>
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<br /></div>
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With birth pains...fear...of death...and desperation...I should have known.</div>
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<br /></div>
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This thing called "motherhood" wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't going to come without fear. Pain. Or without a sense of hope lost. And in some ways...I did die that day.</div>
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My daughter is 3 years old. And I now have an 18 month-old son. They are the jewels in my crown. The breath to my life. The pride of my joy.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YO4TgYTeOjI/UOxWuKGYSxI/AAAAAAAAA48/5BSxKCuvVV0/s1600/DSC03593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YO4TgYTeOjI/UOxWuKGYSxI/AAAAAAAAA48/5BSxKCuvVV0/s1600/DSC03593.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Being a stay-at-home Mom was all I ever wanted out of this life! And now I'm living my dream!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
But just like dreams...they are filled with bits and pieces of random and unproved ideas...with dollops of reality swirled in. It would be remiss of me to not be honest with you. Motherhood is hard. It's harder than hard. It's harder than I could have ever thought was possible. It's harder than any job I've ever had. And it's goals (to raise Godly children in a sinful world) are much loftier than I could ever think to obtain in my own strength.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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Most of my days...you'd find...are filled with depression...anxiety...no sense of success...a sharp tongue and quick temper. Nothing of the tenderness I thought I could possess so easily...BEFORE I had children.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Is this what my life is? Is this what it's suppose to be about? Changing dirty diapers? Cleaning up vomit? Wiping snotty noses? Surviving countless tantrums? A constant fighting and battle of the wills? Each and every task taking 100x longer than it really should? Consistently arriving late to any and all functions? Exhaustion? Always dying to self? Never having privacy ever again? For years? Without release? Without relief? Without any help? And no one ever seeming to care? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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All that seems to feel like you are dying inside. And each night as the sun sets...a small piece of your individual soul seems to set with it. With the rising of the sun comes tears. And resistance to the start of yet<i> another</i> day.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Makes you want to be a mom...doesn't it??</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I am not trying to cry "pity party" with the grand hopes of you joining me. No. Not at all.<br />
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Nor am I trying to paint a picture of horror. Because my life isn't horrible. I just feel lost and alone.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I am trying to be honest. I feel that when I stop pretending...stop being fake...and start being real with what I am feeling...and ADMIT it...I will be able to finally reach a place of true healing. And in that place of healing exists the freedom to choose to HOPE.</div>
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<br /></div>
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That's why I was BEYOND ECSTATIC to have discovered this book:</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Desperate-Hope-Mom-Needs-Breathe/dp/1400204666/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357664525&sr=8-1&keywords=desperate"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41qCbGQbKdL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
It's an answer to my prayers!<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
I have not read it yet. (It was just launched yesterday!) But my husband bought it for me! I had been talking about it ever since I heard it was going to be published. And talking. And talking. And one day...Mike came to me and said..."I pre-ordered it for you."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
))insert excited hysteria and hand-waving here((</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Today my life will change.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It will still include the hardness of life.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But at least I will be able to breathe...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Feeling the same way? Check out <a href="http://www.desperatemom.com/">www.desperatemom.com</a> for more information.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
I'm linked up here today...</div>
</div>
<a href="http://desperatemom.com/book-tour/" target="_blank"></a>
<a href="http://desperatemom.com/no-more-desperate-moms/" target="_blank"><img alt="Movement - desperatemoms.com" height="150" src="http://desperatemom.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/Movement-B-011.jpg" width="150" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-67683071991592385442013-01-05T06:00:00.000-05:002013-01-05T06:00:10.359-05:00my ultimate new year's resolution for 2013I've not ever been big into new's years resolutions. I'm not sure why. And, of course, there's always things in my life I'd like to improve upon, no matter the time of year:<br />
<ul>
<li>drawing closer to God</li>
<li>eating more healthy</li>
<li>exercising regularly</li>
<li>writing more snail-mail letters</li>
<li>finish JD's 1st year scrapbook</li>
<li>crocheting a large afghan (using this wicked awesome <a href="http://deliacreates.blogspot.com/2012/02/nesting-basket-weave-crochet-baby.html?m=1">basket-weave stitch</a>!)</li>
<li>learning that where ever I am...to be all there</li>
<li>among a hundred other things</li>
</ul>
<div>
But I think if there is <span style="font-size: large;">one</span> thing I'd like to make sure to achieve by 2014, it would be banish as much negativity from my life as possible. To focus <u>so intensely</u> on all the God-given GOOD things IN my life and ABOUT my life, that all the negativity shelves in my brain would entertain nothing but dust bunnies.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have a deep desire (and need) to want to always be positive, no matter what happens on the outside. I have God-given positivity on the inside. And even though this in not an eternal state of mind (meaning: not something I can maintain perfectly and indefinitely on this side of heaven), it <span style="font-size: large;">will</span> be my daily attitude in life.</div>
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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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XBbMtnQSDu4/UOeKAmLmRAI/AAAAAAAAA4k/Kl_AkB-BT08/s1600/KindOverMatter_FreePositiveThoughts_page1_image1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XBbMtnQSDu4/UOeKAmLmRAI/AAAAAAAAA4k/Kl_AkB-BT08/s640/KindOverMatter_FreePositiveThoughts_page1_image1.jpg" width="492" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kindovermatter.com/2011/01/freebie-alert-free-positive-thoughts.html">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div>
How about you? Do you have any resolutions for 2013?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-86992138151745369092013-01-04T06:00:00.000-05:002013-01-04T06:00:09.096-05:00hey michelle, your sanctification is calling...I really don't like using the phone. And when I say this, I'm not referring to all the fun features on my iPhone. (I love those.) What I don't like is to use the phone as it was origninally intended.<br />
<br />
I've always been this way.<br />
<br />
I can remember a day during my high school years when my family had decided to order pizza for dinner one night. And somehow I got nominated to make the call. To this day, I think it was a consipiracy to challenge my phobia and get a good rise out of me. All in good fun, no? But at the time, I kicked, thrashed and protested until I was in tears. It felt like torture. The anxiety rose full force and nearly stopped my heart. In fact, the sensation was so powerful, I can feel it now as I type. Panic attacks are no fun, I tell ya.<br />
<br />
I never ended up calling.<br />
<br />
Instead, I escaped to my room in a full-sprint frenzy claiming some form of child-abuse.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, it's one of my greatest weakness. Unexplainably weird. And still ever a strong-hold in my life. Some people are afraid of heights, small spaces or the like. I am afraid of talking on the phone. It produces all sorts of anxiety in me. And if you are a friend of mine, you'll notice I hardly ever call you. And if you're a really good friend of mine, you (thankfully & I love you for this) don't care.<br />
<br />
I'd rather talk to your face than talk to your voice.<br />
<br />
Being on intership has fully challenged this phobia of mine. And for good reason. The phone is useful tool to get a hold of someone for a variety of reasons...good reasons. (Who knew?)<br />
<br />
I'm continually having to call people all week long. Asking how their week has been, checking who has needs, informing someone about our community group, scheduling dinner-dates at our home, etc...<br />
<br />
And EVERY time I have to make a call, my stomach churns with anxiety. <br />
<br />
I'm confident I'll never get over my phobia (it seems that my last job as an accounts receiveable clerk should have more than adequately provided healthy recovery - calling over 30 people per day...for 2 years...pretty much the definition of the sumbersion theory, no?). But I'm praying instead that God will grant me the strength to forge ahead. To see this as an opportunity to give Him all the glory. To be sanctified. To become a decent pastor's wife someday.<br />
<br />
Whenever I need to make a call, and after my stomach settles a bit, I take a deep breath, dial and remind myself I'm dead to sin and alive to righteousness.<br />
<br />
It's not easy. But necessary. And if that's my cross, I'll glady bear it for the sake of the gospel.<br />
<br />
Just know I'll never be the one to volunteer to call the pizza guy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
(Disclaimer: </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Just so it's clear, it makes no difference who I am calling. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
From a best friend to the customer service lady at Walmart. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
My phobia is no respecter of persons. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
So don't think I don't like to use the phone </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
because you assume I don't like who is on the other end! </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I just don't like to talk on the phone. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
It ends there. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Simple as that. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Weird? Absolutely. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Ridiculous? You bet. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
You think I need to grow up? Me too. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">)</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-57083721751393850792013-01-03T15:12:00.000-05:002013-01-29T10:58:49.030-05:00joy deferredI woke up this morning with a headache. Which, for me, means it will soon morphe into a migraine. I heard JD crying in his crib. Since we just forced him to kick his pacifier habit a few days ago, at 17 months old (<a href="http://enjoymyharvest.blogspot.com/2011/02/paci-what-paci.html">4 months longer than Annaleigh</a>), he tends to be a lot more "verbal" when he's unhappy. I contemplated pulling the pillow over my head and purposefully ignoring him. Mike apparently had the same idea.<br />
<br />
I waited a few moments, hoping his cries would subside and he would telepathically understand that I'm telling him<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> he needs to suck it up. Mama will get you when she gets you.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">I sat up. And I could feel the blood drain from my head...sending a pulse of pain to the back of my eye. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">"This is going to be a long day," I thought.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">I sat for a few more minutes. Closing my eyes. Waiting for the pain to dissapaite and dissolve into the rest of my body. It never came. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">So I slid my legs off the side of the bed and hit the auto-pilot button. I proceeded to put on my sweatpants and slipper socks. Made my way towards JD's crib. I glanced over at Annaleigh's bed and wished I could join the little sleeping beauty. Lucky her. By this time, JD has stopped crying. Apparently migraine telepathy is effective. I decide I should inform the press.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">My morning comes and goes. It's filled with coffee, asprin, feeding my imps frosted mini-wheats that they wait to eat until it's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">sopping with milk and disgustingly soggy and will ultimately never finish. I find the strength to get us all dressed. My husband sneaks in behind me and wraps his strong, warm arms around me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">He leaves for work with a kiss. To me. To his babies. We can't wait for him to be back.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">We find our way through a forest of toys and the kiddos tinker here and there. Annaleigh making me blue play-dough sandwiches. JD banging on his Christmas drum. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">I decided to turn on the TV. We find Sesame Street. My littles blindly find their way to my lap....as if through a shared biological magnetic force. We settle under a blanket. And although the TV blares it's incessant alphabet and number chatter, the only noise I hear is their breath. Their slow, peaceful, contented breath.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">I begin to marvel. I am amazed at God. At them. Annaleigh leans forward as she lets out a man-sized guffah in response to a silly Elmo. The back of her shirt is raised, causing her spine to peek out from beneath it. I can't fathom the miracle of it. Both these blessings were formed within me. And now they sit here, breathing. Real enough to hold, caress, and kiss. Filling my soul with warmth.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">My migraine is relentless. It tries to rob me of the joy I've just found. In an effort to kill it's kill-joy, I rest my head on my boy's head. It smells of clean sheets, shampoo, and sweat. I inhale. I close my eyes. I can't ignore it. It's too big. Too wild. Too consuming. The love rushes through and over me like death-weilding rapids. The funny thing about death is, is it reminds you to live.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">And I think to myself, "I hope this is going to be a long day..."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
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<br />
<a href="http://www.time-warp-wife.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ij6epohaF0o/T4OB2ZqKG_I/AAAAAAAADN0/g8S45WNKTb8/s1600/TuesdaysButton.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-88243215703111937312012-12-18T22:49:00.000-05:002012-12-18T22:55:04.942-05:00i just can't be a mother todayI can't tell you how many mornings I have woken up saying those EXACT words.<br />
<br />
And that's why I can't WAIT for January 8, 2013.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7586325532694196985.post-81013255928932146712012-12-14T07:55:00.000-05:002012-12-14T08:04:28.341-05:00what does mike actually do?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tovePSfJA78/UMoojSsFcaI/AAAAAAAAAw8/Xs-vso5fIdY/s1600/DSC02661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tovePSfJA78/UMoojSsFcaI/AAAAAAAAAw8/Xs-vso5fIdY/s400/DSC02661.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
A lot of people have asked me this question.<br />
<br />
"So...you're on internship. But what does Mike actually <i>do</i>?"<br />
<br />
Being an intern at a church is similar to a secular internship. In that, you are getting real-life experience as you put into practical application all the things you learned in books.<br />
<br />
Mike, God-willing, will be graduating with a Masters Degree in Theology (more specifically, a Masters of Divinity...affectionately called an M.Div) in May 2013. However, this Masters program is not much like a "normal" Master's program. Let me put it this way, Mike's work load over the past 4+ years has been the equivilant to that of a Doctorate (Ph.D) program. 90+ hours of course work + a 1 year internship = long time to be in seminary.<br />
<br />
(Mike has a God-given desire to be a pastor someday. Specifically, God has burdened our hearts to be <a href="http://www.ehow.com/about_6704206_definition-church-planting.html">church planters</a>.) <br />
<br />
Now that he has completed his course work, he is in the thick of our internship. He is currently an intern at <a href="http://www.northridgerochester.com/Home">Northridge Church</a> in Rochester, NY. <br />
<br />
And because we live on the top floor of the church offices (which are in a church-owned house located on the church property), his office is just downstairs on the first floor.<br />
<br />
A typical day of work for him starts at 8:00 am. He will take a lunch break around noon...this means he travels a long commute (consisting of climbing up 2 flights of stairs) just to eat lunch with us, his little family! (I, personally, love this! Obviously!) That happens everyday, except Wednesdays, which are a day full of staff meetings. Around 2:30 pm, he will suffer the grueling commute again, just to grab a fresh cup of coffee from our kitchen. (Again, love!) He will commute home from work, one last time, around 5 pm. He does this 6 days/week.<br />
<br />
But what does he actually DO?<br />
<br />
Some of these things he is currently working on, or will be in the future:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Co-leading a<a href="http://www.northridgerochester.com/NextSteps/CommunityGroups"> community group</a> in the church (which requires weekly follow-up, prayer and a generating of ideas and topics of which to discuss with our community group concerning everyone's personal walk with God).</li>
<li>Co-leading a class called "<a href="http://www.northridgerochester.com/Ministries/LifeChange">Life Change</a>" (a 10 week class, which requires weekly follow-up, prayer and preparation for each class).</li>
<li>Helping as a leader in a class called "<a href="http://www.northridgerochester.com/NextSteps/StartingPoint">Starting Point</a>".</li>
<li>Helping his internship coach with anything that is needful in the moment.</li>
<li>Producing, filming and editing the DVDS which are used during the church-wide community group meetings (that occur at various times throughout the week).</li>
<li>Producing, filming and editing <a href="https://vimeo.com/53796457">videos</a> to be used during church services (<b>when viewing the sermon, go to the video time of 19:24</b> to see the video he made specifically for that sermon). </li>
<li>Several speaking opportunities (where he would preach/teach to a group of people on a Biblical topic...which includes much preparation).</li>
<li>He lead the month of October's "Vertical Worship" (aka. the Lord's Supper).</li>
<li>And the biggest project he has...the one that has taken the biggest chunk of time and effort during this internship is planning, praying, brainstorming, producing/editing videos, delegating, creating the website, administrating, being in charge of, etc. for Northridge's <a href="http://www.acts165.com/">16:5 Conference</a> in February. </li>
<li>Preaching during the month of February for the <a href="http://www.yfcrochester.org/">Youth for Christ</a> Hockey League (and I'll be helping to teach the beginners how-to-skate...bet you didn't know I was a competitive figure skater for 9 years, huh?...but that's a story for another day...)</li>
</ul>
Plus more, I'm sure! There are things he does that I'm not aware of...but this I know: <br />
He works so hard, everyday! <br />
And I'm extremely PROUD of him and all he has accomplished already!<br />
He's one smart cookie.<br />
God has blessed him and our little family ABUNDANTLY.<br />
There is no greater JOY than to be in the middle of God's will for your life!<br />
We are living proof!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13371721146217173717noreply@blogger.com0