tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74747086790978004792024-03-12T19:33:05.351-07:00The Hall Waysharing the ups, the downs, and the inside outs of the Hall family with the whole wide world...heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-50443775985400289962011-06-13T07:28:00.000-07:002011-06-13T16:11:07.786-07:00Summer Fun?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibFBe_PoP4-RZBTQ8dCmXnhw2vCQ9AbOc8evrNXn_9agyFI8DtTcXx96Qpyzv8Dxt9Um1bzDMGgSnLbGY1mIWq94bAjoXVZiA7Nv_9tmvVctDts5or6CYuW5S9idNEs3O6vYJQ3jD_X7E/s1600/IMG_0274.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibFBe_PoP4-RZBTQ8dCmXnhw2vCQ9AbOc8evrNXn_9agyFI8DtTcXx96Qpyzv8Dxt9Um1bzDMGgSnLbGY1mIWq94bAjoXVZiA7Nv_9tmvVctDts5or6CYuW5S9idNEs3O6vYJQ3jD_X7E/s320/IMG_0274.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617748075655033570" /></a><br /><div><br /></div>A couple of weeks ago, I found myself typing these words into my Google search bar: "How to survive summer with kids." I am sure that I will look back one day at laugh at this post. But right now, there is nothing comical about it. I was actually beginning to feel dread at the thought of summer vacation. I like my kids, I promise. But there are some things I don't like about summer vacation:<div>*not having a moment to myself all day </div><div>*my 3 kids bickering with each other</div><div>*having a messy house</div><div>*hearing, "What can I have to eat?" all day long</div><div><br /></div><div>Please don't hear what I'm not saying. I know that I am so fortunate to be a stay-at-home mom and able to spend time (a lot of time) with my kids. I really do want to enjoy our summer together so I decided to come up with a game plan to do just that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I read somewhere that our kids live by a schedule 9 months out of the year so it wouldn't be a bad idea to add a schedule to our summer days. I jumped on this idea after remembering how much fun my kids had when I created a schedule for them during Easter Vacation a couple of years ago. They really enjoyed knowing what was coming each day. And as a former teacher, it was fun for me to write out our plans on a big dry erase board.</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought about those things (listed above) that really drive me crazy about summer and then instead of whining about them, I decided to try to change our fate.....not to sound overly dramatic. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>Last week with summer vacation only 4 days away, I sat down with my good friend over at <a href="http://wilkinstory.blogspot.com/">http://wilkinstory.blogspot.com/</a> and we made some plans to keep our sanity this summer!</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish I was more creative and could make these schedules and lists look pretty but I can't! So, as my kids like to say, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit!"</div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><b>Summer Schedule</b><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">7:30<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Breakfast, make bed/clean room</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">8<span style="mso-tab-count:2"><b> </b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Get ready for the day</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*brush teeth<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*wash face<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*brush hair<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*get dressed<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">8:30<span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Morning Jobs</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*clean up living room<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*clear table/put away breakfast items<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*unload dishwasher<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*clean bathroom<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*water plants<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*food/water for Charlie</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">9<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Morning Exercise<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>(bikes, scooters, play ball, walk, run)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">9:30<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Pack lunches and clean out car</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">10<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Snack and Fun!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">12<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Lunch</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">12:15<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>15 minute clean up</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">12:30<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Rest and <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Reading</st1:place></st1:city></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "> (<i>kids who stay in their rooms will get a popsicle at 2:30)</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><i><br /></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">2:30<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Snack and Free Time <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>(tv/wii/ipod/toys/games/art)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">3:30<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>15 minute clean up</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">4<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Water play (swimming, sprinklers)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">5<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Dinner Prep</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">5:30<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Dinner</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">6<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Fun for kids who were kind to their b</span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">rother and sister and obedient to<span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>mom </span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">and <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>dad </span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span class="Apple-style-span">(offenders will get ready for an early bedtime)</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">7<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Bath/shower</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">7:30<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>15 minute clean up</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">7:45 <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"></span>Prep for tomorrow</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*set out breakfast stuff<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:2"></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*pick out clothes<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">8<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Bedtime</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left; "><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p>I will replace our morning schedule with the following one during the weeks (yes, there are multiple weeks!) my kids go to Vacation Bible School:</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><b>Summer Schedule</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><b>VBS</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">7:00<span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Breakfast, make bed/clean room</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">7:30<span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Get ready for the day</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*brush teeth<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*wash face<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*brush hair<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*get dressed<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">8<span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span>Morning Jobs</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*clean up living room<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*clear table/put away breakfast items<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*unload dishwasher<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*clean bathroom<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*water plants<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>*food/water for Charlie</span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span class="Apple-style-span">I am trying not to buy a lot of our typical snack foods (pretzels, crackers, etc.) during the summer. I feel like they are a bit of a necessity during the school year when they need snacks at school. I think my kids are going to go through withdrawals for a while but this is our list (with some help from my friends on Facebook):</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Snacks</span></u></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></o:p></span></u></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Fruit<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Strawberries, peaches, grapes, nectarines<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Veggies & dip</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">carrots, celery, broccoli, peppers, cucumbers<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Cheese slices or string cheese<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Yogurt<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Bananas or apples with peanut butter<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Granola<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Hard boiled egg<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Peanut butter balls <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Peanuts </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Almonds</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Lunch</span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Peanut butter & jelly sandwich</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Peanut butter & honey sandwich</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Quesadilla</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Turkey</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "> & cheese sandwich<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Crackers & cheese</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Peanut butter & crackers</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Weekly Dinner Menu</span></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><u><br /></u></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Monday:<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> </span>Tacos/Burritos<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Tuesday:<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> </span>Sandwiches<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Wednesday:<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Salad<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Thursday:<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> </span>Beef <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span style="mso-tab-count:4"> </span>tri-tip, steak, hamburger, ribs<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Friday:<span style="mso-tab-count:3"> </span>__________<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Saturday:<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> </span>__________<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Sunday:<span style="mso-tab-count:2"> </span>Breakfast for dinner<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Summer fun? Yes! I even made a list!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Summer Fun</span></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Go to the park<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Swimming<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Movie theater<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Playdough<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Baking treats<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Bike ride<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Board games<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Water balloons<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Dress up clothes/make movie<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Chalk<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Bubbles<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Dance party<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Sprinklers <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Slip n slide<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Library<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Snow cones<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Zoo<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Storyland & Playland<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Farmer’s Market<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Skating<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Go out for ice cream or frozen yogurt<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Picnic<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Go for a walk<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Go for a bike ride<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; ">Train to </span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Hanford</st1:place></st1:city></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span class="Apple-style-span">I am hopeful that we are going to have a great summer-if we follow the schedule. Just kidding!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "><span class="Apple-style-span">If you have any great summer plans to save your sanity, please share them! </span></span></span></p></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-68351694669377638792010-12-23T20:45:00.000-08:002010-12-23T22:14:28.746-08:00On The Eve of Christmas Eve<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyQkxvdDtG2QurPc9KjiLavw15OPSXMXesjMpMR79rMWNGzVRQ4irWvvszoBC8Vz4tFGCd8WoCxbWosR18T9kMNBXaAWG_at8weaPeySry-aCN1Et9l-s_ecxL_AVmkvejp8l2KqInTw/s1600/IMG_3191.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyQkxvdDtG2QurPc9KjiLavw15OPSXMXesjMpMR79rMWNGzVRQ4irWvvszoBC8Vz4tFGCd8WoCxbWosR18T9kMNBXaAWG_at8weaPeySry-aCN1Et9l-s_ecxL_AVmkvejp8l2KqInTw/s400/IMG_3191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554127270209395186" /></a><br />On this eve of Christmas eve, I am starting to feel a little bit sad about not sending out our annual family Christmas letter. Well, not about <i style="font-weight: bold; ">not</i> sending it out but about not writing one. Since, I am no good at scrapbooking and a failure at keeping up on this blog - it is nice to have our memories of the year written down somewhere.<div><br /></div><div>I am giving myself thirty minutes or less to write this letter and there will be no one proof reading it. You have been warned.</div><div><br /></div><div>As usual, I planned to <i>slow down </i>and <i>enjoy</i> the month leading up to Christmas. And as usual, life got in the way. Between the kids' Christmas performances, my annual gift wrapping party, our family trip to Disneyland, in addition to daily life - there was not enough time to <i>slow down</i>! But life is good and we found quite a bit to enjoy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last year at this time, I was praying, praying and praying some more that Matt's company would be awarded the job to rebuild highway 41 into Yosemite. Matt bid the job and he was hoping to run it. When we found out that he would be the project manager on the job, we were so excited. Little did we know, that it would turn our lives upside down. Well, that might be an exaggeration. Not quite upside down but our lives were pretty crazy there, for a while.</div><div><br /></div><div>In May, Matt and four of his co-workers moved into a house in Fish Camp (just south of Yosemite) to live and work for the next 6 months. Matt came home on weekends and usually one other night during the week. The job was quite stressful, to say the least, and the kids and I really missed having Matt at home. (Well, to be honest, I did like holding the remote control for the tv.)</div><div><br /></div><div>For the last month, Matt has been working full time out of Granite's Fresno office and bidding new work. He helped coach Zachary's soccer team and will soon be coaching his basketball team. Matt has started playing basketball one night a week again and has resumed control of the tv remote.</div><div><br /></div><div>Zachary is 7 and in the second grade. He is seriously a genius when it comes to math (hey, I said this letter was for myself so I'm allowed to brag a little). He is also slower than a turtle when it comes to getting ready in the morning....the most time being spent on tying his shoes. Zachary had a great time playing soccer this fall. His team was undefeated (which I'm sure added to his enjoyment of the game). Oh, and I should mention that he played in one t-ball game last spring before falling off of his bike and breaking his arm. Zachary's favorite things to do are: play games on my ipod touch, play outside with the neighborhood kids, listen to music and lately he has been wanting to help out in the kitchen.</div><div><br /></div><div>Emilie just turned 6 and is in Kindergarten. I tell all of the parents that if they would like a running report on how their child's day went, to just ask Emilie. She is always happy to share <i>all of the details.</i> Since there is another child named "Emily" in her class, at the beginning of the year Emilie decided to be called, "Emme." She also decided on that spelling. I had been spelling it differently for the last 5 years but on the first day of school, Emilie had another idea. Emilie loves school and she continues to "play school" long after the official school day has ended. Her favorite things to do (besides boss everyone around) are: listening to books on cd, looking at and reading books, drawing, drawing and more drawing. I cannot believe how much paper that girl goes through!</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke is 4 and is attending preschool three mornings a week. The activity he enjoys most at school is swinging on the swings. He LOVES to swing. Sometimes at home, he'll walk into the backyard all alone to swing. Luke also likes to play with his friends and watch "Special Agent Oso" on tv. I am sitting here trying to think of another way to say this but I just don't have time so here it is: Luke is naughty. Yes, he is. I have to tell his teachers, other parents, and strangers on the side walk, "Our first two kids didn't do stuff like this...." I love, love, love that kid. I mean, I can't get enough of his guttural laugh, his sweet affection, and his crazy antics. But I strive for honesty and that kid is honestly a stinker!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am pretty much doing the same stuff I was doing last year and the year before that. (Uh oh, my 30 minutes just ended.)</div><div><br /></div><div>My life is pretty full with raising these 3 kiddos and loving my husband. I wish I didn't yell so much and I wish I had dinner ready when Matt walked in the door at night....I would love to have a clean house but no matter how much I clean....it just will not stay that way. I should be going to the gym but I don't. I should correct my kids every time they make a rude remark or are unkind in some way but some days I just want to ignore these things because I am tired!</div><div><br /></div><div>In spite of all my failures and unfulfilled expectations, life is good. Really, really good. I am thankful for so many things. I have some great friends. Really, really great. I am still in love with the boy who winked at me across the classroom in high school. Our church is awesome. Our God is amazing. I seriously cannot fathom God's goodness and blessings. Most of all, I am thankful that <b><i>God is with us</i></b>.</div><div><br /></div><div>The following words from Matthew 1:21-23 are floating around in the background of my life these days: </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>"She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because <b>he will save his people from their sins. </b>All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 'The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him '<b>Immanuel' -</b> which means,<b> 'God with us.' " </b></i></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Merry Christmas, friends!</div><div><br /></div><div>Love,</div><div>Heather </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW_aScpPLgPy7ZbtjpEgw8hiEmxlu2BeLyAal5NMSXuKZj_Ed0siWSIRfAuvA8YWccx7LwQ86YDv6T7Z2Md4dhe2O5cWZooEk0fgdjfLrj7pBsJ3qu_vYxhmVqxGwglU4yZX9wAWoWNs4/s400/IMG_3167.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554127930694510898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyQkxvdDtG2QurPc9KjiLavw15OPSXMXesjMpMR79rMWNGzVRQ4irWvvszoBC8Vz4tFGCd8WoCxbWosR18T9kMNBXaAWG_at8weaPeySry-aCN1Et9l-s_ecxL_AVmkvejp8l2KqInTw/s1600/IMG_3191.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyQkxvdDtG2QurPc9KjiLavw15OPSXMXesjMpMR79rMWNGzVRQ4irWvvszoBC8Vz4tFGCd8WoCxbWosR18T9kMNBXaAWG_at8weaPeySry-aCN1Et9l-s_ecxL_AVmkvejp8l2KqInTw/s1600/IMG_3191.JPG"></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-47919380416277853122010-08-26T21:34:00.000-07:002010-08-26T22:01:23.949-07:00Mother-Guilt<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Yesterday Zachary came in the door after school and burst into tears. He said that he saw me pick up his sister from Kindergarten and drive past his school. He just happened to be walking to the bathroom at the same time and apparently he waved to us and we didn't see him. Forget about the fact that I was <i>driving and therefore focused on the road in front of me,</i> my heart twisted with <i>mother-guilt</i>. Seriously kid, I was <i>driving</i>! How was I supposed to know that you'd be out of your classroom at 10:52 in the morning? Nonetheless, I am a loser.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Early this morning, Zachary's teacher left a message on my cell phone letting me know that around 11am yesterday Zachary seemed sad and was maybe feeling a bit homesick. She gave him a cracker and a hug. (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">OK</span>, it's official: I LOVE her!) Once again, felt the pang of <i>mother-guilt</i> reminding me of how I failed my sweet boy.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I decided that I needed to rectify the situation and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">alleviate</span> my guilt. So, today I picked Emilie up from Kindergarten at 11:30 which is the exact time that Zachary lines up outside his classroom to walk to the cafeteria for lunch. I told Emilie (or "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Emme</span>" as she is now known at school) that we were going to say hi to her brother. She said sweetly, "No, I don't want to.....let's go out to lunch again." (Sarcasm intended.) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">As we rounded the corner to the hallway where Zachary's classroom is located, I spotted him immediately. And he spotted us. His eyes lit up and he said, "Hi Mommy! Are you here to take me out to lunch?" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Ummm</span>.....no I was not. (Insert <i>mother-guilt</i> pang here.) But I said, <b>"Sure I am. Where do you want to go?"</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Oh, what a sweet hour we had. We ate our Happy Meals. Zachary and Emilie played in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">germy</span>, stinky play area. Zachary took off his socks and shoes. There was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">TV</span> on playing a cartoon that 'we don't watch in our house.' I seriously could cry right now thinking back to the smile on his face. He looked more than happy....he looked <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">rejuvenated</span>.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I didn't want to burst his bubble but I did have to inform him that this was a special treat and would not be happening all that often. <b>But I secretly want it to happen maybe just a tad more than I let on. </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I wish I could say that when Zachary came home from school today, all was right with the world. But I'll save that story for another day. </span></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-23523176188050961772010-08-25T19:48:00.000-07:002010-08-25T20:21:51.967-07:00Imaginary Letters<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I love to read. Have I mentioned that before? The more I read, the more I want to write. Whenever I sit at my computer to write, I just want to read. It is a game of avoidance. When my kids are all in bed (and they have stopped asking for various items and repeatedly getting up to tell me something or to show me something), I think, "This is it. This is my time. I can write and get my thoughts out of my head and out there." Wherever "there" is. So that is my plan but then I manage to find a new blog and it is usually so interesting that by the time I finally force myself to stop reading, I think, "I gotta get off of this computer; I need to relax." Like I've been working!</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I've been reading this <a href="http://www.shaunaniequist.com/books">great book</a> and the author actually has a chapter that discusses the fact that writing is work. It involves making the choice to sit down and focus and write. And saying "no" to other more pressing things like laundry, planning next week's meals and checking <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span>. I never thought of it that way before. I thought of writing as a release, like taking a deep breath and letting it all out. And it does feel that way when I am done but the process of putting my feelings into words and the time it takes to do that - adds up to work.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Just about every other chapter that I read from this author, makes me want to write a response to her. I have a letter written in my head after each one of her stories and then I read another chapter and a new letter begins to form. Nothing ever gets written down on paper. I thought tonight (after reading another chapter) that I should start putting post-it notes on the pages that touched me enough to evoke an imaginary letter in my head. And that maybe one day, I could go back and write a real letter to this author.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">But that would never work. My feelings are so fresh and all of the thoughts swirling in my head would not be there if I went back to reread a chapter so that I could write a response. And really, who am I kidding - thinking that one day, I will make the time to write to this author. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I only know of one other person who has read this book and we love retelling the stories and sharing how the author's words have affected us, made us think, changed and challenged us. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">But one day, I would really like to let the author know all of that, too. Maybe some day.<br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></div></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-4706772177541032972010-08-21T14:14:00.001-07:002010-08-21T14:46:49.838-07:00Our Week in Pictures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1Z4_SdfeodvIEW1VbFrZAMyTao_IpxMTKfCnm2dH1r6CIMfx7WrBjqYkdkfeNqi0na8-W3BRRgVxIMbBbuqFdYD6vZmVWEQqotPydOJU8kfGppQeh4lS7XzlPDR61swyD2T2PaJndgQ/s1600/IMG_1691.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1Z4_SdfeodvIEW1VbFrZAMyTao_IpxMTKfCnm2dH1r6CIMfx7WrBjqYkdkfeNqi0na8-W3BRRgVxIMbBbuqFdYD6vZmVWEQqotPydOJU8kfGppQeh4lS7XzlPDR61swyD2T2PaJndgQ/s400/IMG_1691.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507979420623457106" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sunday, August 15</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We love having Nana and Papa stay at our house!</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><b><br /></b></span></i></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2bwJCOO9prr44MlKrhTXm8Mb0NgVJjqYZigpfBEKz9FkBleEr_sNtHlnpKqAovvehS27Pbqb5KcW_VbDMraJoPdCJFs6C-qkEi4f0XDPDx0Uh7xlzpSHoim-eyNqw7rIVwg_mrGVawiY/s1600/IMG_1721.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2bwJCOO9prr44MlKrhTXm8Mb0NgVJjqYZigpfBEKz9FkBleEr_sNtHlnpKqAovvehS27Pbqb5KcW_VbDMraJoPdCJFs6C-qkEi4f0XDPDx0Uh7xlzpSHoim-eyNqw7rIVwg_mrGVawiY/s400/IMG_1721.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507979405002295490" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Monday, August 16</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Luke is so happy to have his best buddy, Zach, home after 7 weeks apart.</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsbWSfzBgYtrbAbnwOt_VrRqktHkVmrdkT6XXkTRxPQ0ezj5Ht8maKl2Mj2zFE9AzmvpvKv5WseO0xdwzXTTiGBrma1skY0SGQz74hugPdf3QYtssXmrfMBpMUawB1YinvgoVVPR3ePM/s1600/IMG_1699.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsbWSfzBgYtrbAbnwOt_VrRqktHkVmrdkT6XXkTRxPQ0ezj5Ht8maKl2Mj2zFE9AzmvpvKv5WseO0xdwzXTTiGBrma1skY0SGQz74hugPdf3QYtssXmrfMBpMUawB1YinvgoVVPR3ePM/s400/IMG_1699.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507977581295710306" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tuesday, August 17</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Zachary is always 'working' using any scraps he can find.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkbsJ331jSfe1uvg37tGHuGH2Cqg-kwlGRQTFp2Moom33V8BaXT2RMpZzViJDthGWGF0MW7uLK4keZ6ksNB6qG6C8ZElzYxrDoeL2RmCxNrNAxaxpjFS39VEWHdeu_9nc_-ICqpD-37vo/s1600/IMG_1705.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkbsJ331jSfe1uvg37tGHuGH2Cqg-kwlGRQTFp2Moom33V8BaXT2RMpZzViJDthGWGF0MW7uLK4keZ6ksNB6qG6C8ZElzYxrDoeL2RmCxNrNAxaxpjFS39VEWHdeu_9nc_-ICqpD-37vo/s400/IMG_1705.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507977566551186594" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Wednesday, August 18</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Luke's first day of school. </b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTN5KfWuFBs-pnXsFojHkxh303thHZ34d9iU_L60Bf3hO3nQ5EqCMEh_NuqBmkFg12Lahec_qJeKLT4Ak3L69qaqbIr7cnN4bRlEnLBQt0ifZWrlhU8Ka6h0NyKQX9xVRnm-v6axIZfwY/s1600/IMG_1720.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTN5KfWuFBs-pnXsFojHkxh303thHZ34d9iU_L60Bf3hO3nQ5EqCMEh_NuqBmkFg12Lahec_qJeKLT4Ak3L69qaqbIr7cnN4bRlEnLBQt0ifZWrlhU8Ka6h0NyKQX9xVRnm-v6axIZfwY/s400/IMG_1720.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507977553467112994" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Thursday, August 18</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Zachary called me into his room and I was looking in his closet, on his bed.....I couldn't find him anywhere!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFLzNYavB0LLRuDbVYQixgT6jKcvoDg_4glhJdMc25uCT5UMtM39u5xrgRL_6qdcH_T6dewKfgRglR455EKqZImspQ4FNkvwdMk9RQz8a1xx-FBabVuLxZ8V5eTm-9kXJwAx2iVa3ASY/s1600/IMG_1730.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFLzNYavB0LLRuDbVYQixgT6jKcvoDg_4glhJdMc25uCT5UMtM39u5xrgRL_6qdcH_T6dewKfgRglR455EKqZImspQ4FNkvwdMk9RQz8a1xx-FBabVuLxZ8V5eTm-9kXJwAx2iVa3ASY/s400/IMG_1730.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507977542227215282" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Friday, August 19</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>We were in a hurry this morning so I asked Zachary to get Luke dressed. This is what the two of them came up with. Being my third child, I thought it would be just fine for Luke to wear this outfit to school.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByz1_w8b2yqa9J7o9B-u4jWO-LUlXJvbBSvyAExThRintMzoSfId_C0ZiLyj2s1gGrkGB6U1XfTvx-jGD0RSakWmMYByAIoQDEpX6rAMinb7j_YFzXcF9qQuL5QtkCo1lwUS-5jIajME/s1600/IMG_1743.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByz1_w8b2yqa9J7o9B-u4jWO-LUlXJvbBSvyAExThRintMzoSfId_C0ZiLyj2s1gGrkGB6U1XfTvx-jGD0RSakWmMYByAIoQDEpX6rAMinb7j_YFzXcF9qQuL5QtkCo1lwUS-5jIajME/s400/IMG_1743.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507977531612720866" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Saturday, August 20</i></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Grandma and Grandpa are here to visit! We spent the morning at The Farmers' Market and the park.</b></span></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-28818717064146406312010-08-16T23:33:00.000-07:002010-08-16T23:47:40.831-07:00PerspectiveIt's 11:30 at night. This is late for me. My friends make fun of me because I like to go to bed before 10. Anyway, I locked all of the doors, turned off all of the lights and just checked on my kids.....the things I do every night.<div><br /></div><div>After covering each of them up, turning off their lamps, kissing their cheeks, whispering soothing words and smelling their hair, I realized something.....</div><div><br /></div><div>The later I stay awake, the more I love my kids. </div><div><br /></div><div>Can this be true? This is a crazy thought. I mean, of course I always love them and I already love them all the way. But two things have given me perspective:</div><div><br /></div><div>*I have just spent 3 hours alone. (I guess not truly "alone" but completely uninterrupted.)</div><div> </div><div>*Sleeping children (especially when they are <i>your own </i>sleeping children) are absolutely the most precious sight.</div><div><br /></div><div>Man, I love those kids!</div><div><br /></div><div>I almost want to wake them up and tell them how much I adore them! </div><div><br /></div><div>But I am going to put myself to bed right now before I do something I will regret!</div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-21922430186984591632010-08-14T19:49:00.000-07:002010-08-16T19:04:26.668-07:00Our Week in Pictures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFLNIcy_Gt9VnH3atWtd11QBRp81caFZ9vU3eToEMFUEYT152yvgzQhdpdtTuErYYnfH3PTumwIU9dcuMlO3ygEI3wjVlFPbmKlA8sTDVvDGteII8YTGlV6DXjqy4MLDz7F7TGTOlqDW0/s1600/IMG_1578.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFLNIcy_Gt9VnH3atWtd11QBRp81caFZ9vU3eToEMFUEYT152yvgzQhdpdtTuErYYnfH3PTumwIU9dcuMlO3ygEI3wjVlFPbmKlA8sTDVvDGteII8YTGlV6DXjqy4MLDz7F7TGTOlqDW0/s400/IMG_1578.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506188841255350162" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sunday, August 8</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Emma (our next door neighbor) and Emilie play with their dolls.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAoiQy4SkTFJS6uP8IBewbdcpsxdhxko3LhT68ev2nMmbTWTCh6c8cPXj0Tcwgx4WaqtL-ZXRrEEjj8H25RPfQTLuVR9hRcm_wARni4biWuoNhliFInNPZm2Fsp1mtzgpM_EDWBhYH3Yw/s400/IMG_1587.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506187479680901298" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Monday, August 9</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Luke is an aspiring Window Washer (he would not leave the man alone!)</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZ_zpP37dBeU-moMPdUnW3bilipqdcZpeUbQZA6R2eCEi2bxsBN5ClNLIzHYOVSg8_Dn3AMxB4HW9D2Bg8PrKGWooB6re9rhOufzh0cfvr-Wl0oERZaU_lHEjfiZpO1HYrjeII6krFK4/s1600/IMG_1596.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZ_zpP37dBeU-moMPdUnW3bilipqdcZpeUbQZA6R2eCEi2bxsBN5ClNLIzHYOVSg8_Dn3AMxB4HW9D2Bg8PrKGWooB6re9rhOufzh0cfvr-Wl0oERZaU_lHEjfiZpO1HYrjeII6krFK4/s400/IMG_1596.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506185416726827714" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Tuesday, August 10</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Matt reads, "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," to the kids before bed.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjds6jdVkn58cYMHObSdd5S5io9INrfNNz5tuATChvK11A6fCo6DY0nFJ5q65tiI5AQuDRKaZMrMOpKReHBzX5AoVWdjr0UBg8fH4a37PPFRdZGNsLMiWjjCXdYsSuxeBucCS_FZjxbAaw/s1600/IMG_1614.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjds6jdVkn58cYMHObSdd5S5io9INrfNNz5tuATChvK11A6fCo6DY0nFJ5q65tiI5AQuDRKaZMrMOpKReHBzX5AoVWdjr0UBg8fH4a37PPFRdZGNsLMiWjjCXdYsSuxeBucCS_FZjxbAaw/s400/IMG_1614.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506185404277133602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Wednesday, August 11</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Zachary took it upon himself (with the help of his handy assistants) to replace <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">light bulbs</span> throughout the house.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLx2GYoefuQ00Qi9sK1zXooXFmCiVd87FYu9-vFq8A_iWr2Y9sySrpma2gTjorBDHAATp69FHUJq-RmJqcg7ZTKKvmOgldsvm0SyHmAdMGAlEdIXGn54_AU-U9R7jkzKatCA4eR923l_E/s1600/IMG_1620.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLx2GYoefuQ00Qi9sK1zXooXFmCiVd87FYu9-vFq8A_iWr2Y9sySrpma2gTjorBDHAATp69FHUJq-RmJqcg7ZTKKvmOgldsvm0SyHmAdMGAlEdIXGn54_AU-U9R7jkzKatCA4eR923l_E/s400/IMG_1620.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506185395584973378" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Thursday, August 12</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Luke borrowed this "Jesse" hat from his friend, Audrey. He played with it all day.....while wearing jeans and cowboy boots and riding his stick horse, of course.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3F__PpDNf8tDR6RDZ_2GHTlOUi1R3_tDg0z9cKqQo5b5HzCZOMk14BQplg_sqNuBFox-RSoHzml7pXfhhBX8WEjXR_ucCqUzyGh6u1L5nCp6OEWMNSOGAviS1Y4DmCqSnhjnHCpxNVg/s1600/IMG_1631.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3F__PpDNf8tDR6RDZ_2GHTlOUi1R3_tDg0z9cKqQo5b5HzCZOMk14BQplg_sqNuBFox-RSoHzml7pXfhhBX8WEjXR_ucCqUzyGh6u1L5nCp6OEWMNSOGAviS1Y4DmCqSnhjnHCpxNVg/s400/IMG_1631.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506185386783087810" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Friday, August 13</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>The kids had so much fun playing at this new park. Emilie enjoyed hanging out inside "the bubble."</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Saturday, August 14</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>The kids love when Nana and Papa come for a visit. We all had a great time swimming in our neighbor's pool.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">For some crazy reason, I can't type below this picture and I refuse to waste one more second trying to figure it out!</span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLI6fsr9rp45pM0F6ii9kKvaBGXGovW_aM8cM9MU078JNmR6R_HQzCCwRknRs8SEWyrN4r0zeuSNEoRdiYvP0B22-E-Z0N6IGC4uR47c7-sxEt__2JTnlBZqqF0j8XeQbRszTrJ-7ix5k/s1600/IMG_1679.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLI6fsr9rp45pM0F6ii9kKvaBGXGovW_aM8cM9MU078JNmR6R_HQzCCwRknRs8SEWyrN4r0zeuSNEoRdiYvP0B22-E-Z0N6IGC4uR47c7-sxEt__2JTnlBZqqF0j8XeQbRszTrJ-7ix5k/s400/IMG_1679.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506185377372186386" /></a></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-11370475958343490442010-08-10T20:37:00.000-07:002010-08-10T20:54:18.088-07:0014 Years Ago<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7XyZ16VmD_0l1bmCv0k_VnmTNdXOLEcjKe6gyYQr13UcDfaa_682YICSY5fc3ir6kjUJZnR_NcXwXj1NN7jCk57rLA1aEeycEw9pyQeDWkDeh0PcBWesmgCDX-jxEFPa1TUxoxdDHMP8/s1600/IMG_1598.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7XyZ16VmD_0l1bmCv0k_VnmTNdXOLEcjKe6gyYQr13UcDfaa_682YICSY5fc3ir6kjUJZnR_NcXwXj1NN7jCk57rLA1aEeycEw9pyQeDWkDeh0PcBWesmgCDX-jxEFPa1TUxoxdDHMP8/s400/IMG_1598.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503993281318808834" /></a></div><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I am so thankful that 14 years ago today, I married the man of my dreams. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I love this man more than he will ever know. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I am so proud of the man he is and the man he strives to become. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">He is the hardest worker I know. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">He is a wonderful dad to our kids.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">He is truly an amazing husband. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">He is my best friend. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-45549476604292051682010-08-07T08:02:00.000-07:002010-08-07T08:42:16.283-07:00Our Week in Pictures<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJn_m5nkc2CDMCDXxPxxASy9qRRKGpxKGhkP3isJvRGCy7mFYgBA2el3HXIW6w9eFrCeB-RF9795UT_bUNSOZM-CXkLtMgZooYTjaW_4_cFbyVvT_ic5kgibCffw3ZPDa7nIvSiKH_UOE/s1600/IMG_1532.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJn_m5nkc2CDMCDXxPxxASy9qRRKGpxKGhkP3isJvRGCy7mFYgBA2el3HXIW6w9eFrCeB-RF9795UT_bUNSOZM-CXkLtMgZooYTjaW_4_cFbyVvT_ic5kgibCffw3ZPDa7nIvSiKH_UOE/s400/IMG_1532.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502689884493075074" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Monday, August 2</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>Dirt Cups!</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GFurwWILZpHXpGIbyQrvkgxN087jnOjm9c0UbOlFtCHVDrZpaJhOycgrBYYrtQnb-aPf7QpAxqVTvQsYwePLTq2A9wssS0xpB3N49r4F8Iu-o52z2b1JX6v4VXFEqzVG1l7YeW3Ha9I/s1600/IMG_1537.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GFurwWILZpHXpGIbyQrvkgxN087jnOjm9c0UbOlFtCHVDrZpaJhOycgrBYYrtQnb-aPf7QpAxqVTvQsYwePLTq2A9wssS0xpB3N49r4F8Iu-o52z2b1JX6v4VXFEqzVG1l7YeW3Ha9I/s400/IMG_1537.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502686519455411202" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Tuesday, August 3</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>Emilie's friend Abbie comes over to spend the night.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uoMwuKcX-XgzOnxjOf0cWVJej72dSk8yiJ4twh-BrPWfPQRyTGe2YwDkNxd3xVOyNRUjClPpMXbG7UFX4o0aY-JW4ZvI1kIZLQLDwBhVD0LxVF0XQUCRqZef8fk6FHg6J9ZJCCZee68/s1600/IMG_1547.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uoMwuKcX-XgzOnxjOf0cWVJej72dSk8yiJ4twh-BrPWfPQRyTGe2YwDkNxd3xVOyNRUjClPpMXbG7UFX4o0aY-JW4ZvI1kIZLQLDwBhVD0LxVF0XQUCRqZef8fk6FHg6J9ZJCCZee68/s400/IMG_1547.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502686515750705666" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Wednesday, August 4</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>Exciting morning: Operation Clean Up comes to our neighborhood.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYFgWICIM0yxn3pACTAi_P4-Vk1yjfGwmvYRpWTm2N9g8HUBF1hWAT1ZMbjU-npSobX7Z7amg4skTc9nPbZzYawwmhhXcC8HC4HC1rNBBzAk1xySoudcrh1zUzAN7FsFsx7ux_XyEcOU/s1600/IMG_1555.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYFgWICIM0yxn3pACTAi_P4-Vk1yjfGwmvYRpWTm2N9g8HUBF1hWAT1ZMbjU-npSobX7Z7amg4skTc9nPbZzYawwmhhXcC8HC4HC1rNBBzAk1xySoudcrh1zUzAN7FsFsx7ux_XyEcOU/s400/IMG_1555.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502686506362432962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Thursday, August 5</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>Zachary wants a dog really bad! This is Scout and it is as close as he is going to get (for a while, anyway).</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0oTWSkBWt7YOao1jSVCr3QvTrJn2Coy81qi7tnnUTGMSWKTs0m6OdEEoiMWPnlz0X30PrICYo4iPB_icgG6k94xseyE6MzNg8EPbPWXRRvjACeYcfT-R9AM8N5HemNTi-3JNeY_P0T3A/s1600/IMG_1557.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0oTWSkBWt7YOao1jSVCr3QvTrJn2Coy81qi7tnnUTGMSWKTs0m6OdEEoiMWPnlz0X30PrICYo4iPB_icgG6k94xseyE6MzNg8EPbPWXRRvjACeYcfT-R9AM8N5HemNTi-3JNeY_P0T3A/s400/IMG_1557.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502686501664218482" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Friday, August 6</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>At 8 o'clock in the morning, the kids start transporting toys outside to play in the driveway.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcYOjXswK3tJmiaJDzpY-Qawa4TlUuab97D7db_ahX_W5UoNA9peueUhl_6s2hG8f3BOsepDWa9eHxbQy_GX_2GYheohirddNobw3iYfYUDQ1XPX1rWBtz2tgM3umbqzVi0TGQBtgr6g/s1600/IMG_1561.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcYOjXswK3tJmiaJDzpY-Qawa4TlUuab97D7db_ahX_W5UoNA9peueUhl_6s2hG8f3BOsepDWa9eHxbQy_GX_2GYheohirddNobw3iYfYUDQ1XPX1rWBtz2tgM3umbqzVi0TGQBtgr6g/s400/IMG_1561.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502686495818810866" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Saturday, August 7</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>Happy (early) Anniversary, Matt!</b></span></span></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-65297233830754714232010-08-02T20:47:00.000-07:002010-08-02T21:26:37.881-07:00Story Time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81n7-WkLH3OszC5w_UYbM0NBiPorD8cPJ_0715GW46Rgrir7ibILOjFdy8jvMjA3UN1NjkMysuQ8CE8Eqej2fVOHrXtvPXuTwMbRxOkCp54rAYuck02TbujebFOadaA4ZPH6rK9r_Eyc/s1600/IMG_1531.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81n7-WkLH3OszC5w_UYbM0NBiPorD8cPJ_0715GW46Rgrir7ibILOjFdy8jvMjA3UN1NjkMysuQ8CE8Eqej2fVOHrXtvPXuTwMbRxOkCp54rAYuck02TbujebFOadaA4ZPH6rK9r_Eyc/s400/IMG_1531.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501033920574405602" /></a><div>I love books! I think I wrote about this in a previous post but it's true - I really do love books! Of course, I love to read them but I also love to just be <i>around</i> them. Bookstores and libraries are two of my favorite places; places that I rarely visit because I have 3 children who don't know how to sit still or be quiet. For a more vivid description of my last experience taking my children to the library you can read this <a href="http://thehall-way.blogspot.com/2009/05/shhhh.html">post</a>.<div><br /></div><div>So when I had three hours of <i>free</i> babysitting this afternoon, the first place I went was the library. I had so much fun wandering the aisles <i>all by myself</i>! I wasn't really looking for anything specific. I just picked out random books that looked interesting. I ended up checking out eleven books which is a bit ironic since I just returned a book (after renewing it twice) <i>without reading it </i>because I just don't have time to sit down and read for hours. Did I mention that I have three kids?</div><div><br /></div><div>As I set my books down on the magical pad that <i>knows </i>just which books you are checking out, I scanned my library card to discover that I owed a fine of ten dollars. See, this is why I don't go to the library! Besides having children who misbehave, I <i>always</i> turn in our books late. So, the computer screen informed me that I was no longer eligible for self-checkout and I must ask an employee for assistance.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I held out my library card along with my debit card to the librarian, she proceeded to show me <i>how many times I have turned in an overdue book since obtaining my library card in 2004!</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Are you kidding me?! Just take my debit card!</div><div><br /></div><div>She informed me that she would waive the fee. What?! I was so relieved! (One of the reasons I chose to go to the library was because it is free.) As I expressed my appreciation, she said,<i> "Don't thank me. I see people like you in here everyday. You turn in your books late continually. I am not doing you any favors here. You will continue to do this."</i> What?! Excuse me, I am willing to pay your stupid fine and you are lecturing me?! Why don't you save your lecture for all of the people who are going to argue with you and refuse to hand over the money that is rightfully yours?!</div><div><br /></div><div>Then she says, <i>"Do you understand that you can renew your books online? You can even call and if a librarian is not busy, you can renew over the phone. Do you understand?"</i> I nodded. She goes on to say, <i>"I am going to make a note on your account that I explained the renewal process to you."</i> I am completely in shock. This crazy lady is on some sort of power trip! As I hung my head in shame, she points to the computer monitor where she typed, '<i>EXPLAINED RENEWAL PROCEEDURE. -PAT'</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Well, Pat, thank you very much. See you next year.</div></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-41473140200850195382010-08-01T20:58:00.000-07:002010-08-01T21:48:41.376-07:00Project Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HvgXovIFNEnW_h5t_35ldLSJet4MMJjfD2lcI4lJnIW-62Ru0LzcVyNsk02TjkrDw9f_yApD5_uP1YPX4KyEMG79K2KHnrjLGbCORZBhhmMxEdsVgIOumtO79vWswILaiigjwVgEHSk/s1600/IMG_1521.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HvgXovIFNEnW_h5t_35ldLSJet4MMJjfD2lcI4lJnIW-62Ru0LzcVyNsk02TjkrDw9f_yApD5_uP1YPX4KyEMG79K2KHnrjLGbCORZBhhmMxEdsVgIOumtO79vWswILaiigjwVgEHSk/s320/IMG_1521.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500667520206536642" /></a><i>(Zachary and Emilie playing "Hospital." Emilie was pushing her "patient" to the exam room.)</i><br /><div><br />I'm sure that I am infringing on some copyright laws but I just love this idea called, Project Life. I don't really know much about it. But the part that really captured my attention was to take a "Picture of the Day" EVERY DAY. My sister pointed me to this blog post <a href="http://christine-lifeorsomethinglikeit.blogspot.com/2010/07/project-life-711-718.html">http://christine-lifeorsomethinglikeit.blogspot.com/2010/07/project-life-711-718.html</a> and I was immediately intrigued. <div><br /></div><div>Blogging has completely taken a back seat to the rest of my life. I loved blogging for all those months. Getting my feelings and experiences out for everyone to see made me feel connected to my family and friends and even a few strangers. I felt affirmed and validated. I loved that I would be able to look back one day and truly remember what my life was like.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not exactly sure why I stopped writing. I love writing. It just began to feel like a chore. Why would I want to sit down and relive my child's temper tantrum at the grocery store? I would rather zone out in front of the TV. For a while life seemed to not be funny or fun....it seemed to be tiresome and draining.</div><div><br /></div><div>And who wants to read about those things? No thank you.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I have decided to try something new. I think the original idea came from here <a href="http://www.beckyhiggins.com/">http://www.beckyhiggins.com/</a> but since I'm not going to buy this kit and I don't want to download the digital version either, I am just going to do my own version of Project Life. I am a Scrapbooking Failure and I have absolutely no idea how to use any of the features on my amazing camera so this is going to be boring and unattractive to anyone looking for something beautiful. If you are looking for some great photography as well as scrapbooking ideas, you're not going to find it here!</div><div><br /></div><div>So the plan is to upload the POTD (Picture of the Day) either each day or once a week...I'm not sure yet. I just really want to have something to look back on (since we very rarely develop any pictures). </div><div><br /></div><div>This will also be a test for my perfectionist-self. Will I really want to record, let alone DISPLAY our everyday (messy) life to all of you?</div><div><br /></div><div>Here we go!</div><div><br /></div></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-25967567373437544772010-02-17T19:41:00.000-08:002010-02-17T20:19:19.625-08:00Un-busyIs <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unbusy</span> a word? I am trying to think of the opposite of busy. Free? Like when someone asks, "Are you busy tomorrow?" You might answer, "No, I'm free." Or maybe you would say, "I am available." Well, that is how I am feeling these days - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">unbusy</span>, free, available. <br /><br />We have dropped out of a few things in the last few years. Two of those things are <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Awana</span> and Life Group. For about 5 years, we met with a small group on Tuesday evenings. It was great! We loved the people and we enjoyed studying the Bible together and sharing our lives with one another. We were involved with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Awana</span> for 2 years. The meetings were held every Wednesday and it was a beautiful thing to see my kids memorizing scripture.<br /><br />What started out so good began to turn into guilt and stress and chaos. The crazy cleaning before everyone <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">arrived</span> for small group.....the rushing to put the kids to bed before they saw that company had arrived. The arguing about who was going to take the kids to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Awana</span> (Matt who had just arrived home after working all day or me who had been with the kids every second since waking that morning)....the kids staying up an hour and a half past their regular bedtime. <br /><br />First we decided to cut out small group. This was a difficult decision. When we began hosting Life Group at our house, we were the only couple that did not have access to free childcare (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ie</span>. family that lived in town). We knew that by stepping away from this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">commitment</span>, if we ever wanted to get involved again, it would most likely be at someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">else's</span> house and we would have to pay for childcare. We do miss the sweet fellowship of that group. But we don't miss all the other stuff that came along with it.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Awana</span> is a great program. Giving it up felt like I was turning my back on the people in my church who love my kids. These volunteers give their time and energy and knowledge to help my kids know Jesus. I am so grateful for them. But at this time in our lives, the cost is too great. I don't want to argue with my husband. I don't want my kids to be up late. I don't want our family to be in two separate places.<br /><br />Maybe one day, we will join a Life Group again. My kids may be involved in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Awana</span> in the future. Just not right now.<br /><br />For now, all five of us are usually in our pajamas by 7 pm. The kids play and act silly. Matt and I clean the kitchen together. Matt plays on the computer. I check <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">facebook</span>. There are nights that we play games, read stories, make something yummy to eat....and other times that we just do our own thing. It feels good to just be together....at home.heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-20507617578804715582009-12-25T16:27:00.000-08:002009-12-25T16:28:45.738-08:00Merry Christmas 2009Dear Family and Friends,<br /><br />It feels a bit strange to write our Christmas letter this year because so many of you read about our daily lives on Facebook. Now that you already know what we eat for dinner, how often (or not) we get to the gym, which of our children are tired, cranky or disobedient…it seems like I am taking a step backward. So, even though I feel like Facebook and our family blog have used up all my words – I will try to muster up a few more for the sake of tradition!<br /><br />We have been living in Fresno for 8 years. Did you know that we were just “passing through” so Matt could get his degree in Construction Management from Fresno State? After buying a house, having three kids, finding a great church and being surrounded by so many wonderful friends – I think we are going to be here for a while! Matt is in his seventh year of working for Granite Construction. For the last two years he has been driving about 30 minutes into the foothills north of Fresno to complete the sight work for a new high school in Coarsegold. In his down time, Matt enjoys playing basketball on Sunday evenings with friends. He just finished coaching Zachary’s soccer team and will enjoy about a month off before coaching Zachary’s basketball team.<br /><br />Zachary is really enjoying first grade. He wasn’t too sure about the long 7 hour days in the beginning but his sweet teacher and fun friends help to pass the time. He is a great reader but loves math. His favorite thing to do at recess is play tetherball and at home it is all about Pokemon. Zachary is kind, sensitive and quick to help…..and a teeny bit tempermental (if you want the whole truth!).<br /><br />Emilie is in her final year of preschool and if allowed, she would run the place! She loves school so much - the singing, drawing, role playing, completing her daily ‘job’ – all of it! At home, Emilie spends time ‘teaching’ her stuffed animals and mothering her baby dolls. Her absolute favorite activity is to play her cds at a very high volume and sing and dance in her room. Emilie is caring, giving and helpful……and a little bit bossy.<br /><br />Luke is in his first year of preschool and attends three days a week with Emilie. I think he loves his teacher as much as or more than me! He comes home singing the songs he has learned and talking about all of his friends. He loves playing with all of the toys there and eagerly checks to see if he is the Line Leader each day. At home, he is quite speedy on his scooter and is obsessed with all things Diego, Dora, Lightning McQueen and Spiderman. He is getting much better at wearing his glasses and we will find out in the next few weeks if he will have another surgery to correct his strabismus. Luke is funny, silly and affectionate….and can be more than a tiny bit obnoxious.<br /><br />I am becoming more of a “in-the-car-mom” than a “stay-at-home-mom” just because of the kids’ school schedules. I do have 3 hours, 3 mornings a week that all three kids are in school and I have found plenty to fill up the time! I treasure the time I spend with the Moms In Touch group from Zachary’s school and I am glad to be available to help out in the classroom. But what I really love is cleaning the house in silence! I am the coordinator for the MOPS group at our church for the third year in a row. Spending time with other moms brings so much joy into my life! Dinners out once a month with a group of close friends is something I always look forward to. Matt and I still manage to get out for date nights and it is always a treat to spend time with my man!<br /><br />As I look around my house, this is not how I envisioned celebrating Advent. It is messy everywhere! The counters are full of groceries needing to be unpacked, the floor is littered with messes to be cleaned up. The Christmas tree is shedding, the candy canes are being eaten off by the day and the ornaments are constantly being rearranged. There is no fire in the fireplace or candles flickering. Four out of the five of us are recovering from the stomach flu. We are running and busy yet we do take time to stop and remember what it is that we are waiting for. We are preparing to celebrate the birth of our Savior! So we pause in the middle of the craziness and savor these words: <br /><br />This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins." I John 4:9-10<br /><br />May you also enjoy the waiting in the middle of the mess! Merry Christmas sweet friends!<br /><br /> Love,<br /> The Hall Family<br />Come see us at <a href="http://www.thehall-way.blogspot.com/">www.thehall-way.blogspot.com</a>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-56248974651047726732009-11-30T20:14:00.000-08:002009-11-30T21:19:27.550-08:00A Quarter to Eight7:45am is never a good time at our house. If we were crazy enough to televise our lives, my number one rule (I learned from Kate <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Gosslin</span> that you can have rules.) would be that the cameras would have to be turned off from 7:45 to 8 0'clock in the morning.....every morning. This is the time of day that I am trying to get myself and three kids out of the house and into the car. I know, two simple steps......sounds so easy.<br /><br />Today was especially bad and I will get back to it.....but generally, it is just a crazy time. This is what needs to happen during that time: last minute potty trips, jackets on, backpacks in car, lunches in car, kids in car, buckle up three year old, break up a few fights, unbuckle three year old to take off jacket, unlock four year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">old's</span> seat belt, wait for 6 year old to run back in to go potty......I could go on.<br /><br />A typical day in the Hall house starts at about 6am. Matt is usually up and getting ready for work by then and I try to get ready before all three kids join us in the bathroom at about 6:45. (From 6:45-7:45 things are relatively calm. We do all the normal stuff: breakfast, get dressed, wash faces, brush teeth, fix hair, make beds, etc.) It is not until 7:45 that everything begins to unravel.<br /><br />Back to today: Today started at 3 o'clock in the morning. Emilie came into my room and said she was scared. I put her back to bed with a few comforting words. A minute later, I hear her crying. I go in to her room and turn on her lamp. Just as I get back into bed, she is crying again. I go back and am feeling quite annoyed when she tells me that she thinks she might throw up. After hanging out with her in the bathroom for a few minutes with no result, I put her in bed with me and tell Matt to go sleep in her bed. Just as I get set up with a large bowl and a box of baby wipes....the barf fest begins.....and continues every 30 minutes for the next four hours.<br /><br />I slept in a little this morning and I was just getting out of bed as Luke and Zachary were waking up. This was not good.<br /><br />Trying to get Luke and Zachary ready for school this morning was tough. I was tired and cranky and trying to comfort Emilie while <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">simultaneously</span> keeping the contents of her stomach contained.<br /><br />I considered keeping Zachary and Luke home from school for a brief moment. I couldn't figure out how I was going to get everyone from the house to the car to school with my sanity in tact. But then I thought about poor Emilie being <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">harassed</span> all morning by her brothers and I figured it would be worth it to have a few hours without them. If only I could get them to where they needed to be.<br /><br />7:45 rolls around and this is how it goes: I am helping Luke get dressed while reprimanding Zachary for his rude behavior towards his poor sick sister. I hear Emilie start crying from somewhere in the house. I know this means that she is about to throw up. I try to hurry Luke's legs into the appropriate openings in his pants and I'm yelling, "EMILIE, GO TO THE BATHROOM. THROW UP IN THE TOILET!" I see her run past me and pass the bathroom. Where the heck is she going? I run after her and see her heading towards her 'bowl' on the couch. She doesn't make it. Throw up on the carpet. "WHY DIDN'T YOU GO TO THE BATHROOM?" She wanted her 'bowl.' Wonderful.<br /><br />As I begin to clean the carpet, I tell Emilie to go get in the shower and Zachary to start gathering supplies to make his lunch. This typically would be a day to buy hot lunch but since the menu said, 'Supervisor's Choice,' I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">understood</span> why Zachary didn't want to chance it. I hear "Uh-oh!" And go into the kitchen to find the Strawberry Syrup spilled on the kitchen floor. A juice box was more of what I had in mind for lunch but since I had put Zachary in charge, Strawberry Milk was on the menu.<br /><br />According to the clock, this is the point that we should all be heading to the car......except for there is throw up in the living room, syrup on the kitchen floor, lunch is not made and Emilie is in the shower.<br /><br />I clean up the messes on the floors as quickly as I can, warm up the car, tell Zachary to get in, buckle Luke in and then go get Emilie. I wrap her dripping wet self up with my bathrobe and buckle her in the car. And we drive Zachary to school. He is 7 minutes late.heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-32418420060272984242009-11-13T14:14:00.000-08:002009-11-13T20:37:54.092-08:00PFAPA<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xmgM9X2EobDYjId_2Qi1nRhlowGUdL3kTvUw5_Rqn9Wffo1sITm6s-LwJFFdPeKgHzu_H4OzCsM03dVPAfL7h4I4n-TISeY-FX_gEE6kRP8l3WrAbyAsuRk93KmV_1Y85_Kuwg5I5uM/s1600-h/IMG_7173.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403813785926654450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xmgM9X2EobDYjId_2Qi1nRhlowGUdL3kTvUw5_Rqn9Wffo1sITm6s-LwJFFdPeKgHzu_H4OzCsM03dVPAfL7h4I4n-TISeY-FX_gEE6kRP8l3WrAbyAsuRk93KmV_1Y85_Kuwg5I5uM/s320/IMG_7173.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">I took Zachary to the Doctor today. He goes to Valley <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Children's</span> Hospital (Children's Hospital Central California) every 6 months for a check up because 2 years ago he was diagnosed with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">PFAPA</span> Syndrome. I started noticing right after his 3rd birthday that he was getting a fever every month with no other symptoms (that I could tell) so I started keeping track of them and after a year and a half, he was officially diagnosed by his pediatrician. His pediatrician had only recently heard of this syndrome and referred us to a doctor who specializes in Immunology and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Rheumatology</span>. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Dr. Wright </span><span style="color:#ff6666;">(</span></em><a href="http://www.childrenscentralcal.org/OurDoctors/Pages/dwright.aspx"><em><span style="color:#ff6666;">http://www.childrenscentralcal.org/OurDoctors/Pages/dwright.aspx</span></em></a><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="color:#ff6666;">)</span> is quite familiar with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">PFAPA</span> and has five other patients with this syndrome.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Now that Zachary is in school and sports, I have had to try to explain this 'illness' more and more. I usually tell his teachers/coaches/school nurse that Zachary will seem very tired and complain of being cold. He will either have a fever or one will be coming on when these symptoms occur. His fevers occur about every 8-12 weeks and he is NOT contagious.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Before we found something to relieve his fever and the symptoms that accompany it, the fevers would last 3-5 days. Now that we give him a single dose of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Prednisolone</span>, the fever is gone within 2 hours.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Today I spent some time searching the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Internet</span> for a good description of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">PFAPA</span> and the following is what I found:</span></em><br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">Periodic fever, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Aphthous</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">stomatitis</span>, Pharyngitis, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Adenitis</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">PFAPA</span>) Syndrome</span><br /><br />This syndrome includes recurrent episodes of fever with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">aphthous</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">stomatitis</span> (mouth sores), pharyngitis (sore throat with redness and sometimes a throat that has a white covering – exudate - like that seen in a throat with streptococcal infection.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">PFAPA</span> affects children in early childhood, usually starting at age two to four years. Episodes usually decrease in frequency and resolve after the age of 10 years. This disease was recognized for the first time in 1987 and was called Marshall’s.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">How common is it?</span><br />The frequency of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">PFAPA</span> is not known, but the disease appears to be more common than generally appreciated.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">What causes <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">PFAPA</span>?<br /></span>The answer to this question is not yet known. No gene defect has yet to be found in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">PFAPA</span>, although in some cases more than one family member has the disease. No infectious cause has been found in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">PFAPA</span>, thus it is not a contagious disease. It is clear that the inflammatory process is activated during episodes but it is not clear why it is triggered.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">What are the main symptoms?</span><br />The main symptoms are episodic fevers, accompanied by a sore throat, mouth ulcers, or enlarged cervical lymph nodes (glands in the neck, an important part of the immune system).<br /><br />The episodes of fever start abruptly and last for three to seven days.<br /><br />During episodes, the child looks very ill and complains about at least one of the three symptoms mentioned above.<br /><br />The episodes of fever recur every few weeks and often families know the exact day when an attack will start. On the day the fever starts the child will feel a little ill before the attack and the family knows an attack is about to start.<br /><br />Not all children have all symptoms, especially mouth sores. Some children have other symptoms like joint pain, abdominal pain, headache, vomiting or diarrhea.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">How is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">PFAPA</span> diagnosed?</span><br />There are no laboratory tests, or imaging procedures, specific for diagnosing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">PFAPA</span>. The disease will be diagnosed based on the results of a physical examination and other symptoms. Inflammatory blood tests like the white blood cell count, erythrocyte sedimentation rate and the C-reactive protein are increased during attacks. Before the diagnosis is confirmed, it is important to exclude all other diseases that may present with similar symptoms (especially a streptococcal throat). The dramatic response to treatment (see below) also helps diagnose <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">PFAPA</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">How is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">PFAPA</span> treated?<br /></span>There is no specific treatment to cure <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">PFAPA</span>. The aim of treatment is to control symptoms during the episodes of fever, to shorten the duration of episodes, and in some children to prevent attacks from occurring.<br /><br />In most children, the disease will resolve by itself without treatment, usually after the age of 10 years.<br /><br />The fever does not usually respond well to Tylenol or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">nonsteroidal</span> anti-inflammatory drugs.<br /><br />A single dose of steroids (usually <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">prednisone</span>), given when symptoms first appear, has been shown to shorten an episode and sometimes even end the episode. However, the interval between episodes may also be shortened with this treatment, and the next episode may occur earlier than expected.<br /><br />In some patients using <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">cimetidine</span> (a medicine that is used to treat stomach ulcers) may prevents attacks from occurring. In patients with very frequent attacks, a tonsillectomy (removing the tonsils by surgery) may be considered.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">What is the outcome and course of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">PFAPA</span>?</span><br />The disease may last for several years. Over time, the intervals between the episodes will increase and usually after the age of 10 years resolve by itself. Children with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">PFAPA</span> continue to grow and develop normally.<br /><br /><a href="http://my.clevelandclinic.org/disorders/periodic_fever_syndrome/rheumatology_overview.aspx">http://my.clevelandclinic.org/disorders/periodic_fever_syndrome/rheumatology_overview.aspx</a> The Cleveland Clinic © 1995-2009. All Rights Reserved. 9500 Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, Ohio 44195 800.223.2273 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">TTY</span> 216.444.0261</div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-49562884584920112952009-11-10T19:03:00.000-08:002009-11-10T21:02:58.647-08:00FearI never would have thought of myself as a fearful person. Well of course I am scared of normal things like heights, small spaces, the dark.... But I wouldn't say that I "live in fear." When I think of being fearful, the picture that comes to mind is someone who is shaky, nervous....you know - those people in horror movies.<br /><br />This morning I attended Bible Study at church. We are studying the book of Esther. Beth Moore is the author of the study and every other week, we watch her teach us on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">dvd</span>. I always look forward to these days. Today when she shared that the topic was "fear," I thought, "Well, I am just going to tune out a bit since this doesn't really relate to me." If you have ever seen Beth Moore teach, you will know that she is very animated and very intense.....which makes it almost impossible to tune her out.<br /><br />She shared with us a struggle that God had helped her through over the last year and a half. She said that around the time of her birthday that year, she started to fear that her husband wouldn't find her attractive anymore. She began to fear that he would be attracted to someone else and even worse.....fall in love with that person. She shared with us how painful just thinking about this was and how God worked in her life to bring her through this. (Mind you, her husband gave her no indication that any of this would occur.....but nonetheless, Beth was paralyzed with fear.)<br /><br />As she shared this story, I immediately recognized my own fear. I realized that I DO live in fear.....on a daily basis.<br /><br />I am absolutely terrified that some harm will come to my children. Those words don't even come close to describing my feelings. I don't even want to write the words but I will: I live in fear every day that one (or more) of my children WILL DIE.<br /><br />It is not that I think about this all day long but little thoughts pop into my head a lot!<br /><br />For instance, I asked my kids to take a dish back to a neighbor who lives across the street. As I stood in the garage and watched the three of them hold hands and cross the street, I thought: What if a car comes speeding down the street and hits them and then THEY DIE?!<br /><br />Last week I watched a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tv</span> show where a young boy died and I thought: What would I do if one of my children had a terminal illness and DIED?!<br /><br />Often, I pray a quick prayer: God, protect my children. When I pray this, it is for no other reason than the fact that I am feeling afraid.<br /><br />What would I do if harm did come to my children......if they got sick.....if they were in an accident.....if they died?<br />That's the point I would stop the thoughts. I would move on to something else. I would push down the fear.<br /><br />Beth Moore really made me think about my biggest fear.....and how it was affecting me.....in my everyday life.<br />Here are some of her points that really stuck with me:<br />*The most frequent command in the Bible: "Do not be afraid....Fear not."<br />*Nobody is born brave but we can become courageous.<br />*I am my biggest obstacle.<br />*God has no intention of leaving me this way.<br />*Conditional faith: "God is good if He does what I say."<br />*It's tough being a woman in the tight fist of fear.<br />*We will not know abundant life if we live in this fear.<br /><br />Instead of cutting the thoughts off as they enter my head, Beth encouraged me to imagine the worst case scenario:<br />What if my children died?<br /><br />I would be beyond sad....full of pain and sorrow. I would scream and cry and feel like the hurt would never stop. I would feel lost and lonely and weak. I would get in bed and want to stay there. I would cry out to God. I would search His Word for comfort. I would recognize that God knows my pain....has experienced it. I would remember that God is faithful and good and loving. And then I would get up. Because my God will take care of me.<br /><br />I don't mean to make this sound simple. It is so not simple. But with the courage of God's presence, I will choose to be brave.<br /><br />I will choose faith over fear.<br /><br />I will choose to live.<br /><br /><br /><em>to be continued......</em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">excerpts from: Esther: It's Tough Being a Woman by Beth Moore</span></em>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-83228624954106262722009-10-01T09:08:00.000-07:002009-10-01T10:32:51.775-07:00For JillIt has been a long time since I have cried for someone else.....well, until yesterday.<br /><br />I can remember crying for Zachary when he was a day old and the nurses came into our room every few hours to jab his foot with a needle to draw blood. (The worst part being that they would warm his foot first with a heating pad and then WHAM!) I remember crying for my Granny when the love of her life - my Papa - died. I remember crying on each anniversary of September 11 for all the loved ones left behind.<br /><br />I cry for myself plenty but how often do I really cry and pray and hurt for someone else?<br /><br />I reconnected with a friend through <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span> about a year ago. We met on a mission trip when I was 17 years old. We spent the summer in Israel helping with projects at a school there. When we found each other on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Facebook</span>, I noticed that her kids were similar ages to mine. As most of you reading this know: when you find a mom whose kids are the sames ages as your own - there is a connection.<br /><br />So, even though I have not seen my friend in 15 years, I do feel a connection. The summer that we spent together was life-changing for me. And she was a part of it. That, combined with our parallel lives, keeps us connected.<br /><br />She is in a terrible amount of physical pain. You can read her story at <a href="http://www.jillrees.blogspot.com/">http://www.jillrees.blogspot.com/</a> . I won't go into detail but because of her pain and weakness she has not been able to be the wife and mommy that she very much wants to. She had brain surgery a few months ago. The doctors thought this would fix the problem. It didn't. She had another surgery last week. It didn't work. The doctors don't know what to do any more. All she can do is lay flat on her back.....in pain. And watch other people take care of her children.<br /><br />I just ache for her. For a while, I have been avoiding reading her husband's updates on her health. As if not knowing makes it less real. Yesterday, I let myself really FEEL for her. And it brought me to a place I have not been to in a long time. I cried out to God and begged for her healing. I just plain cried. The tears just kept coming.<br /><br />In the last year, two women (friends of friends) who were my age, who had kids - babies, toddlers and preschoolers - like me - have died. I just cannot even comprehend this. Their kids will now grow up without their mamas. And now my friend is in a place that only God can get her out of.<br /><br />I know that God is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">sovereign</span>. I know that He has a reason and purpose for everything. I will never know the mind of God. I will never understand why bad things happen to good people. But I will trust in what I do know.<br /><br />I know that God is good and loving and all-knowing and that nothing happens without Him allowing it. I know that God knows pain. I know that the troubles that we experience in THIS world do not even compare to the sweet glory that He is preparing for us in Heaven.<br /><br />I love how The Message paraphrases Matthew 15:<br /><br /><em>"After Jesus returned, he walked along Lake Galilee and then climbed a mountain and took his place, ready to receive visitors. They came, tons of them, bringing along the paraplegic, the blind, the maimed, the mute - all sorts of people in need - and more or less threw them down at Jesus' feet to see what he would do with them. He healed them. When the people saw the mutes speaking, the blind looking around, they were astonished and let everyone know that God was <strong><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">blazingly</span> alive</strong> among them."<br /></em><br />I love that! I am so thankful that I serve a God who is still "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">blazingly</span> alive!" I know that my God heals.<br /><br />It hurts when we let ourselves really care for other people. To feel another persons pain is painful. But I know that this is what God wants me to do. It is His command.<br /><br />Jesus said, <em>"Love others as well as you love yourself."</em> (The Message Matthew 22:39)<br /><br />As I cried for my friend yesterday, I was "loving her as well as I love myself." To look outside myself is something I need to do much more often. A tiny part of me was changed yesterday.heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-19948124191932193472009-06-18T10:03:00.000-07:002009-06-18T10:07:11.949-07:00Tips for surviving (and thriving!) in the baby/toddler phaseHere is a great practical and inspirational post that I came across today.<br /><br />Click on the link below and ENJOY!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/2009/06/tips-for-surviving-and-thriving-in.html"><span style="color:#990000;">Conversion Diary: Tips for surviving (and thriving!) in the baby/toddler phase - The diary of a former atheist</span></a>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-63890860402650892582009-05-29T21:33:00.000-07:002009-05-29T22:02:13.261-07:00The Things I Can Accomplish (when someone else cleans my house)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7h7KEyOIXUSgp3LZRVNX08cmnz3grDJR1p3ADDITGt9ZLAejnKI3ITiFrcGLzBJAlq6LRDCLSxZgf1mnKccXw7dHPK5tULSCCetc_y035GA_OE7JELP_2e_1c56FgDyA5A0_ixSMd0k/s1600-h/IMG_6197.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341471071355526802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7h7KEyOIXUSgp3LZRVNX08cmnz3grDJR1p3ADDITGt9ZLAejnKI3ITiFrcGLzBJAlq6LRDCLSxZgf1mnKccXw7dHPK5tULSCCetc_y035GA_OE7JELP_2e_1c56FgDyA5A0_ixSMd0k/s320/IMG_6197.JPG" border="0" /></a> Because someone else cleaned my house one day last week.....I was able to clean out our "Coat Closet." <br /><br />In the winter there really are coats that hang on the right side of the closet. In the spring and summer, the coats get moved to their respective homes (ie. Emilie's coat lives in Emilie's closet). In the cold and rainy months (when we are reaching for coats, sweatshirts and umbrellas repeatedly) it seems silly to continually put them away in four different bedrooms.<br /><br />Anyway, this is one of two closets in our home that is not in a bedroom. The other closet is called the "Linen Closet." But it actually stores our toiletries, first aid, medicine, and cleaning supplies....as well as our linens. These two closets must store everything that does not belong (or will not fit) in a bedroom closet. Stuff is constantly getting shoved in them.....especially when people are coming over! So, I try to clean them out a few times a year.<br /><br />The picture above is what our "Coat Closet" looks like after I have taken an hour to organize it. It should probably be called the "Game Closet" or the "Gift Wrap Supply Closet" or the "Kids' Stuff That Makes a Big Mess Closet."<br /><br />But I digress.<br /><br />I have been wanting to clean out this closet for at least 6 months. I never wanted to begin that project when there were other more pressing things to do. By "more pressing," I mean the things that can be seen when I open my front door. There is always the kitchen to clean or the living room to tidy up.<br /><br />But when someone else cleans your house, number one: <em>you are not too tired to take on a project </em>and number two: your entire house is clean all at once so <em>you are able to focus on a potentially messy and time consuming project.</em><br /><br />This closet may not look like much to you but for the last two days (whenever I need a pick-me-up), I open the door and peek inside. <br /><br />It is something that I have cleaned and organized that will stay that way for at least a few weeks....unlike every other area in my house.<br /><br />I wish I had taken a "Before" picture so you could see the difference but I did not think of that until I sat down to write this post.<br /><br />Oh! A little bonus to cleaning out this closet is that I found my son's 200 page Kindergarten Homework Book that is due on Monday. It had been missing for a week. He would have been devestated to miss out on the "prize" for completing his book.<br /><br />He has two days to complete 40 pages.....oops, maybe I should have avoided that closet for another few weeks. I have a feeling it is going to be a loooong weekend!heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-1258027216820636242009-05-14T13:56:00.000-07:002009-05-14T15:10:11.100-07:00Shhhh.....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Shhhh</span>....<br />Isn't that what you think of when you go to the library? Apparently someone forgot to tell my children.<br /><br />I thought that I would be a nice mommy and take my children to the library yesterday. Now I remember why we have not been there since last September.....what an absolute nightmare!<br />So, we had the "talk" in the car on the way to the library:<br /><em>"We have to be quiet in the library. You can look at books, you can pick some books to check out, you can sit at a table with your books but you CANNOT yell, scream, run, hit, or throw books on the floor."</em><br /><br />Well, it seems that my children got the speech all backwards. Everything I said that was a <em>"can't"</em> or a <em>"don't"</em> they thought was a <em>"can"</em> and a <em>"do."</em><br /><br />As we entered the Children's Room at the library, we were met by a large dog. Yes, you got that right, <em>a dog!</em> Well, he was on a leash that a nice elderly lady was holding. Two out of my three children are terrified of dogs. As the lady was explaining to us, <em>"This <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">doggie</span> is very nice. She is a therapy dog," </em>I had my 4 year old daughter climbing up my leg and my 2 year old backing into me screaming, <em>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">EWWWWW</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">EWWWWW</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">doggie</span>."</em> And I DO mean SCREAMING! I don't really know why he was saying, <em>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Ewww</span>,"</em> as opposed to just crying but he was.....and he was LOUD.....and it was embarrassing.<br /><br />If only I had known that this was only the beginning. We should have gracefully (yeah right) made our exit right then.<br /><br />Luke's eyes lit up when he saw the book shelves. Actually, it was not the books that excited him; it was the aisles between the book shelves. Those wide open spaces just looked perfect for running.<br /><br />Zachary was off to look for a book on reptiles.<br /><br />Emilie asked me to ask the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">librarian</span> to help her find a book on princesses. As the librarian tried to help us (to no avail), Luke decided to run around and knock books onto the ground. I was trying not to be rude to the librarian but I kept trying to get away so that I could catch Luke but she just kept talking and talking about how she <em>"just could not believe that there was not one book about a princess in the library." </em>Yeah, yeah we gotta go!<br /><br />I hear another librarian say sweetly,<em> "There is no running in the library."</em> As Luke goes streaking by. I really wanted to defend myself and say, <em>"You know what? I already told him that and I would really like to spank him because he disobeyed but I am afraid that you will call the police. And that is why I am talking in my fake nice voice to my child and glaring at him....it is so that he and I can go home together where I can discipline in private."</em><br /><br />Then Emilie says that she has to go to the bathroom so I grab Luke and take him with us and tell Zachary that he can look at his books.<br /><br />As Emilie is going potty, I give Luke a lecture. <em>"Luke, you need to stay next to mommy. You cannot run around. You cannot pull books off of the shelves. STAY RIGHT NEXT TO ME!"</em><br />He sweetly says, <em>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ok</span> mommy, I stay next to you."</em><br /><br />As I turn around to help Emilie, he grabs the handle on the bathroom door and starts yelling VERY LOUDLY and jiggling it around. He must have unlocked it because a lady pulled the door open and was ready to save this child in distress. She was surprised to find me standing there with my two children. She apologized for walking in but I am sure she was thinking, <em>"That lady needs to control that kid!"</em><br /><br />When I left Zachary, he had found 2 books about snakes so I told the kids that it was time to go look for a book for mommy. Emilie had about 8 books so we had about all we could carry. (A good mommy would have brought her "Library Bag." Whatever.) Zachary declares that he is "done" with his books and now wants to put them back and pick out some others. Through clenched teeth, I help him pick out 2 books about Sharks. Let's go!<br /><br />As we walk out of the Children's Room and enter the main library, Zachary decides to become a spy. He weaves through the book shelves and jumps from one aisle to the next, always keeping an eye on me but I could not see him. So I am hissing, <em>"Zachary, come here. I want you to be right next to me."</em> He would jump out for a moment just so I could see where he was but then he was off again. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ok</span> people, this is my (almost) six year old! I could not believe how horribly he was behaving.<br /><br />Well, Luke thought this was awesome. He decided to run after Zachary and try to find him. When I caught up to him, I grabbed his hand and said, <em>"Luke, you need to hold mommy's hand."</em> He said, <em>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Noooooo</span>."</em> And tried to wriggle away from me. So I had to use the "death grip" and try to hold his hand without crushing it. That was when he began to sob.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Ok</span>, forget mommy's book. Let's find Zachary and get out of here. We go to the self check-out. I scan my library card. WHAT?! I owe $21.75 in late fees! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Aughrrr</span>!<br /><br />So we have to go to the Accounts Counter to pay our bill before we check out. Luke decides to crawl around on the floor and yell, <em>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">wah</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">wah</span>,"</em> pretending that he is a baby. I tell him to get up and stand next to me and he does NOT so I quietly "discipline" him. He yells, <em>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Owww</span>, don't pinch me, mommy." </em>And starts to cry.<br /><br />The man who is taking my check says, <em>"You've got your hands full."</em> Oh, how I just love it when people say that. REALLY? YOU THINK SO???<br /><br />I was trying to think of an appropriate punishment for Zachary's bad behavior. I considered not letting him check out his two books. But then I felt guilty because I knew that we would not be coming back to the library for a VERY LONG TIME.....like, years. So, I settled on letting him check the books out but he was not allowed to have them until tomorrow. Yeah, I know.....I am a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">weanie</span>.<br /><br />I do have to say that Emilie was very well behaved. That girl does have her moments but thankfully, she made some good choices while we were at the library. If she had joined her brothers on their "Team Obnoxious," I probably would have had to call CPS on myself.<br /><br />So, we finally made it to the car where I told Zachary how disappointed I was in his behavior (all the while, Emilie chiming in "Mommy, I was good, wasn't I? I stayed right with you, didn't I? I listened to you, right mommy?"). Next, I gave Luke a 2 year old version of the same speech.<br /><br />Going to the library is a bit like childbirth for me. It is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">excruciatingly</span> painful at the time but then as time passes, I forget the pain and do it all over again. I vow to remember. No thank you on both accounts: library visits and childbirth.heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-17743534595496038442009-04-07T20:13:00.001-07:002009-04-07T23:08:31.742-07:00Let's Get RealThis is the home of a self-professed clean-freak:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyC3-EGHbi4UDJbMg_IqJ-Xgc8_DEMqc7_Yrw3nS_xDnf2zg6ziEiW3RkdZ5kSXKvO4vkvbrTYLuBSeY1tSViEMAIr5cuBIoY64UAxjUzIFgkxZeKowHuf4t9e3QrU3GIbbGarxricfQI/s1600-h/IMG_5543.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322190465345893010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyC3-EGHbi4UDJbMg_IqJ-Xgc8_DEMqc7_Yrw3nS_xDnf2zg6ziEiW3RkdZ5kSXKvO4vkvbrTYLuBSeY1tSViEMAIr5cuBIoY64UAxjUzIFgkxZeKowHuf4t9e3QrU3GIbbGarxricfQI/s320/IMG_5543.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzXWEF3PUjpCeRGMAR44lXMzIYNCQGoEqJSwCtq70GvZW5iwU4gcURaoUf5ZOJbLH0LrEZYU51K0UwHoUW3g-aZbn3Q_hcxK8LqGMBjdmeSk7j2xDk_8S7cSLHDmCt9U9QnXdjZbmjaw/s1600-h/IMG_5544.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What you don't see: pee in the potty seat.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0c4qCoZkgzlzvs02bDPmkoXKwK9cYQvc-d9NGU9SzuaSyCE4xujI3K6RMg9zt07UfbVdNXLdMN83QG4bvq-h4RTrfa5l0XTGXepPwDn77sSuU2NvQHDsznBCHXECSTRI5Ehb71NaJ-s/s1600-h/IMG_5544.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322169679826545602" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0c4qCoZkgzlzvs02bDPmkoXKwK9cYQvc-d9NGU9SzuaSyCE4xujI3K6RMg9zt07UfbVdNXLdMN83QG4bvq-h4RTrfa5l0XTGXepPwDn77sSuU2NvQHDsznBCHXECSTRI5Ehb71NaJ-s/s320/IMG_5544.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This is what my kitchen counter looks like....on a regular basis.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYP41h3FNVexMj9iuPeOHqm2VCW8lNsm1fUEZocC9bc27thhbfx7aVauBKZU5piqv-AG1kBWzp-43ceMzpFshdy8phZ0EiiIvTBvrHOkbrvN9FxX_YARIyV4_wDipXJ4g2eSccHhDrPs/s1600-h/IMG_5545.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322167232190162562" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYP41h3FNVexMj9iuPeOHqm2VCW8lNsm1fUEZocC9bc27thhbfx7aVauBKZU5piqv-AG1kBWzp-43ceMzpFshdy8phZ0EiiIvTBvrHOkbrvN9FxX_YARIyV4_wDipXJ4g2eSccHhDrPs/s320/IMG_5545.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />My desk is cluttered with all of the things I am intending to work on.<br /><br /><div><div><div>I am so tired of cleaning up messes! One of the hardest things about being a stay-at-home mom is going to bed at night without a sense of accomplishment. It seems like one hundred percent of what I do each day is undone within minutes.</div><br /><div></div><div><em>Make breakfast, clean up. Make snack, clean up. Make lunch, clean up. Make another snack, clean up. Make dinner, clean up.</em></div><br /><div></div><div><em>Take off diaper, put underwear on, clean up poopy underwear and poopy bottom. Forget to put on new underwear, clean up poop off of the floor and poopy bottom. Try again with a clean pair of underwear......or give up and put a diaper on. (I am referring to my 2 year old.....in case there is some confusion.) </em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><div><em>Wash clothes, fold clothes, put away clothes. Repeat 100 million times.<br /></em></div><br /><div><em>Pick up toys, put away toys. Tell kids to "go play with your toys," then....pick up toys, put away toys.</em></div><br /><div></div><div>Right now it is 8 o'clock on a Tuesday evening. My house is a mess. I did clean up (many times) today....but I have not done "the final cleaning" and I DON'T WANT TO! But I know that I will pay for it in the morning. The only thing worse than going to bed with a messy house is waking up to a messy house.</div><br /><div></div><div>As I sit here writing, my husband says, <em>"Don't you have other things you should be doing?"</em> He is right. And I say so. <em>"Yes, there are ALWAYS other things I should be doing."</em> Which is why I have not written a post on this blog in 6 weeks!</div><br /><div></div><div>A few months ago, I spoke to our MOPS group about keeping a clean and organized home. I have thought about that many times as I have looked around my messy house. I think, "If they could see my house now!" So, girls.....here is your chance.</div><br /><div></div><div></div><div>I will try to rest in the fact that it will be clean again.....probably, even tomorrow. </div><br /><div></div><div>Although, it seems like a daunting task at this time of night. </div><br /><div></div><div>I am comforted by the fact that many of you are right there with me. We are cleaning and breaking up fights and wiping bottoms and putting away loads of laundry and praying for patience.....together.</div><div></div></div></div>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-23404425079311276982009-02-26T10:29:00.000-08:002009-02-26T11:25:10.725-08:00Typical....I decided when I woke up this morning that I am <em>not</em> going to the gym today and I am <em>not</em> going to feel guilty about it.<br /><br />My plan was to take Zachary to kindergarten and then come home with Emilie and Luke to work around the house. My two lofty goals were to complete (wash, dry, fold and put away) two loads of laundry and vacuum the entire house.<br /><br />It is my belief that children (at least, <em>my</em> children) were put here to thwart my plans.<br /><br />The second we walk in the door, Emilie wants to change her clothes. She takes off her warm leggings and long-sleeved shirt in favor of a sheer, pink ballet skirt thingie and a tiny white camisole.<br /><br />I can't stand when she does this because she has to change back into normal clothes when it is time to go get Zachary.....which is only a few short hours away.<br /><br />I plug in the vacuum. She comes to get me, "Mom, my door is locked." Yep, it sure is. I get the screw driver out of the garage to take the door knob off. I am mad. This is not on my to-do list. The door knob won't come off.....it is hanging by the screws. My friend calls and advises me to use a paper clip to unlock the door. It doesn't work. My sister calls and says to use a bobby pin. It doesn't work. I call Matt for advice. I hear him answer his phone - meaning, I hear people talking in the background. Then I hear, "click" and then silence. Ok, I guess he will be of no help to me.<br /><br />I decide to give up and worry about it later. Back to vacuuming.<br /><br />The noise scares Luke (or so I think) and he hides under the kitchen table. Moments later, I think, "What stinks?" It is then I notice Luke pulling his pants and underwear off. "I go poop," he tells me. Great....<br /><br />I take him to his little potty where he finishes the job and then clean him up.<br /><br />I walk in the direction of the vacuum cleaner....."Mom....." WHAT????? Now, they are hungry. Can they have gum? No. A mint? No. Milk? Yes.<br /><br />I go out to the garage to put one load of laundry in the dryer. My plans to start the 'darks' are interrupted by the clothes that Luke was wearing when he had his accident. I decide to wash those separtely before I start what was intended to be my 'second load.'<br /><br />As I go back to the living room to finish vacuuming, Matt calls. I tell him the problem. He tries to help me over the phone - to no avail. He is shocked when I scream at Emilie and Luke "Shush! Be quiet! Just get out of here!" He laughingly tells his coworker that his wife is screaming at the kids. <em>Oh yes, isn't it funny when you are not the one dealing with them.....</em><br /><em></em><br />He gives up on me and tells me to just "dress Emilie in Zachary's clothes." What about nap time? What about time outs? What about "just go play in your room!" I need her door OPEN! I need her room to be AVAILABLE.<br /><br />I figure out that if I take Zachary's door knob off, I can use it to open Emilie's door (yes, I did mangage to get her door knob off - but still could not get the door to open). So, now I have screws and door knobs scattered about and Luke thinks he is Handy Manny and wants to play with everything.<br /><br />I open Emilie's door. I put Zachary's door knob back on. But now I cannot get Emilie's door knob to line up correctly to put the screws back in. Forget it! I gather the screws and knobs and put everything on the kitchen counter for Matt to deal with tonight.<br /><br />I realize that if anyone shuts Emilie's door, I will have to take Zachary's door knob off again in order to open it. I instruct Luke and Emilie not to shut the door. Yeah, right. I am counting the minutes until I will be kneeling in front of her door to remedy the problem.....again.<br /><br />The laundry is not done. It sits wrinkled in the dryer. The house is not vacuumed....except for about one-fourth of the living room. <br /><br />It is time to go get Zachary. <br /><br />Typical.heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-80339637524173261422009-02-08T19:33:00.000-08:002009-02-08T20:29:34.637-08:00Down....but not out!Somehow, I managed to hurt my back. It has been about a week now. The pain started in my right wrist, moved up my arm to my neck, down my back and has decided to make its home under my right shoulder blade.<br /><br />My friend, who is a Physical Therapist, had a look at it four days ago. I happened to be at his house because his wife and I were hosting a dessert for the MOPS leadership at our church. I weaseled my way into a personal training session before I left their house.<br /><br />The problem with Physical Therapists is that they don't give a lot of sympathy. But they do like to give homework.<br /><br />I am supposed to ice my back a few times a day. I am also supposed to lay on a rolled up towel (because a don't have a 'ball') and do a few stretching exercises throughout the day. I was excited to hear that I should not exercise in a way that would strain my back.....but then he told me that working out on the treadmill was fine. Bummer!<br /><br />He thinks I have a Damaged Nerve Root. Of course, I Googled this.....and I must say, this diagnosis sounds right on.<br /><br />Every time I lay on the floor to do my "homework," Luke thinks it is time to jump on my knees to play "Flying Superman." Zachary and Emilie also seem to want to climb all over me. It is not often that my children see me on the floor (unless I am trying to get to some discarded food item under the kitchen table).<br /><br />Writing this post has seemed to intensify my back pain. To describe the pain, all that comes to mind is that someone jabbed me in the shoulder blade with a screw driver. And then left it there.<br /><br />So.....I will stop writing now.<br /><br /><br />p.s. I also have a cold (as do my three children and husband)......feel sorry for me.....please!heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-52769486536651750362009-01-29T18:42:00.000-08:002009-01-29T18:54:59.692-08:00Thursday NightIt is 6:40 pm on a Thursday night. We had a delicious dinner (made by someone else). <br /><br />The house is clean - or at least, "picked up." <br /><br />All 3 kids have been bathed and have their pajamas on. <br /><br />Zachary is reading to Matt. <br /><br />Emilie and Luke are enjoying a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. <br /><br />I have my pajamas on, my teeth are brushed and my face is washed. <br /><br />The kids will all be in bed in the next 45 minutes.<br /><br />After that, it will be time to catch up on some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">tivoed</span> shows (American Idol) before The Office starts. (I love having a show that Matt and I both enjoy watching together - they are few and far between.)<br /><br />Matt and I will most likely be in bed by 10 o'clock - where we will hopefully enjoy 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. (I just knocked on wood.)<br /><br />Nights like this are the best!heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474708679097800479.post-50310145663472074712009-01-14T06:41:00.000-08:002009-01-14T07:00:51.395-08:00Calling All Moms!If you are a mom to little ones, I have something for you to read. If you have ever felt down or discouraged or depressed about your role as a mother (and all that one little title entails): READ THIS!<br /><br />One of my favorite blogs to read is called <em>"Preschoolers and Peace."</em> It is written by a mom of 8 children so she is full of wisdom and experience. She is also real.<br /><br />I found so much encouragement and hope in her post yesterday (and also in all of the comments that followed it).<br /><br />Do yourself a favor, take a few minutes to read it.<br /><br />Sometimes when I am feeling overwhelmed by the task of mothering, I just want a friend to commiserate with me. This is NOT that kind of post. This is for those of us who are looking for real HELP and ANSWERS.<br /><br />I hope it touches you, like it did me.<br /><br />It is entitled, <span style="font-size:130%;"><em><strong>"Can We Really Discover Joy in the Journey?"</strong></em><br /><br /></span><a href="http://www.preschoolersandpeace.com/"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">http://www.preschoolersandpeace.com/</span></strong></a>heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371230928197026905noreply@blogger.com2