tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21400674783226342282024-02-06T22:40:41.958-06:00My Journey through MommyhoodErinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-77561686199073980512014-06-18T23:11:00.003-05:002014-06-18T23:12:01.549-05:00BrutalToday was hard. Brutal. Sometimes being a mom is super hard. Sometimes life in general is hard. It doesn't mean that I'm failing as a mother or that I'm doing life wrong. It is just hard, because it is. As one of my favorite author's, <a href="http://www.momastery.com/" target="_blank">Glennon Melton</a>, says, "Life is brutiful." So even though today there were tears and moments of panic where I thought I might literally lose all my hair because I will pull it out (and if there were any left, it would all be gray), there were also those moments through the day where Jesus whispered to me, "I didn't forget you. I am right here with you. I care about the little things that are on your heart." And I am also fairly certain that he reminded me to take a lot of deep breaths. <br />
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On a day where I was pretty sure everything that could have gone wrong did, he reminded me of his love in the little things like my oldest son asking if he was being a good helper to me. Or my middle son demonstrating his truly loving heart (in between temper tantrums). Or my toddler who I am pretty sure is trying to break me, showing me pure joy and giving me kisses that he is usually very stingy with after we had been apart a few [much needed] hours. Or hearing my baby's beautiful heartbeat. Or having my husband tell me to turn on a movie for the big kids and go take a nap. (He is worth his weight in gold.) Or maybe it's by showing me that the friends I am blessed with and sometimes feel distant from because we are all living this hard life really are right there when you need them the most. Or maybe it's the friend who lets you cry like the crazy hormonal lady you are, but still makes you feel like your reasons are completely valid. Or maybe it's the fact that I did hear Jesus when he told me to take those breaths. Or getting to sit and watch my kid do his best or even struggle in something that he loves. Those things, those are the way Jesus shows his love to me on these hard days. So, who needs a burning bush? The only fires I like include s'mores anyway. <br />
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As for tomorrow, I have hope. It's going to be a great day. Or maybe it'll be hard and brutal and crazy, but at least I know that even if it is, there will be beautiful miracle moments in there somewhere. But maybe, just maybe if it is like today, I'll dig through the hard stuff and breathe in one of my miracle moments, small as it may seem. I hope.<br />
<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-44390924580917874492013-07-26T11:52:00.002-05:002013-07-26T11:52:45.618-05:00Back to Work...in a New WayI've spent the last six months applying for teaching jobs in Missouri. I've taught for a total of six years in Missouri and Kansas, and never in my wildest imagination would I have thought that it would be so unbelievably hard to get hired. I love, love, love being a stay-at-home-mom, but my husband and I knew that this would only be a one year thing, and now it's time to go back to work. I have wanted to move home to Springfield for 4 years now, and finally, Ryan was ready to go too. (I guess having three kids makes it easier when you think that you might have family close who want to help out some.) So, I got to work applying and e-mailing and even visiting schools and principals with resumes. I probably applied for at least 60 positions in the Springfield/Branson area. It was ridiculous. I would completely obsess over looking for new openings that had posted. I had two, count them TWO interviews before this week. So, things have changed....<br />
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Up to this point, I had refused to put in any applications in Kansas, because I felt like that would be giving up on moving. Since nothing had been happening at all (and to appease my father-in-law), I decided to apply for a position in Independence for a kindergarten Title teacher. I went to that interview on Monday, and the whole way there (in the pouring rain and hail), I had a conversation with myself and God about how I didn't want this job, I was just going because it would be good interview practice. <br />
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On Tuesday, I went to an interview in Hollister, Missouri (by Branson). Now, this isn't where I would have chosen to be, but I figured even 45 minutes from my parents was better than two hours. It was for a fifth grade position, and I felt it went well. After this interview I was very torn. I talked with my friends and family, I cried, I prayed, I stressed over the waiting for answers. The answer came quickly....<br />
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On Tuesday evening, I got a job offer from Hollister. I asked if I could please have the evening to talk with my husband. As soon as I hung up the phone, I told my mom, "I really want that job in Independence." It was as clear to me as if it was written in the sky. So, I talked with my friends and family, I cried, I prayed, and I stressed over the waiting for answers, and then I slept. A good, restful, peaceful night's sleep like I haven't had in months. <br />
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On Wednesday morning, I was on the phone praying with my friend, Christy, when I got the call from Independence. I was asked, "Well, would you still like to be a part of our school?" and I said, "YES!" I could not stop smiling. God had changed my heart. I never in a million years would have thought that I could want to stay in Coffeyville for another year, but I am so happy! Even more than that, before I felt like we were forcing the move home, and now I have an absolute peace that we will be there, just not now. When we do go, it will be on our terms, and not in two weeks before school starts as I frantically search for preschool and childcare (which I already have set up here). <br />
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I'm so thankful that I was offered both jobs, so that staying here was my choice and not just because I wasn't offered a job in Missouri. I am so excited for the opportunity that I am going to have in this new teaching position. I am looking forward to having a drive with my Brennon every day as he will be going to school with me. I'm thankful that God saw us through the entire process even when things seemed horrible. It was in that darkness that I could hear him speak to me the loudest. This time he said, "Erin, I know that your heart's desire is to be back home, but for right now, I have something even better planned for you." <br />
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I know it seems crazy and unexpected. It's totally different than what I thought would make me so happy, but please be happy with us. Don't get me wrong, there's a part of me that's sad that my trips home will be on weekends still, and I want to be closer to my parents and family and friends here, but while we're here, we are not going to spend the next year wishing our time away. We've been so blessed with great jobs, good friends, a wonderful church, and so many other things. That remains true no matter where we are. And for now, Go Bulldogs!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-10971860228770985512013-05-29T23:07:00.001-05:002013-05-30T07:27:18.223-05:00My Perfect* SonTonight I went and laid next to my oldest son while he slept. I snuggled up next to him and listened to him breathe. Were there times I was short with him today? Maybe...but he knows I love him and I always will...no matter what. This time though, was completely perfect. Rain falling outside, I let my breathing get in sync with his. I pretended this means our hearts are beating in sync too, which means he will always be my baby, and I will always be his momma. I love him more with each new thing I learn about him or watch him learn about the world. I had to capture this moment of mommy elation, because Lord knows when I step on a Lego tomorrow, I'm going to need it. But for now I'm off to bed, thankful for my perfect [while he is sleeping] angel. XO, BC.Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-12958294189525550062013-05-23T23:16:00.000-05:002013-05-23T23:55:32.506-05:00The Darkness Before the LightAlmost exactly a year ago, I remember sitting with a dear friend at the park and confiding in her something that I was really afraid to verbalize up until then. While watching the kids play and sipping on our chocolate shakes, I said, "I'm afraid that I will never have a strong connection with Gavin." <br>
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There were several reasons for me to say this. He always had gravitated toward Ryan, we are so much alike that we often butt heads, but mostly I was afraid that I had lost that critical bonding time with him when he was so small. I went into a deep, dark postpartum depression that scared me to the core. The truth of the matter is, I don't remember a lot of those earlier days with Gavin. I think the memories are fuzzy as a way of protecting me, because as
most of my friends and family know, my memory is like a steel trap
(except for things I need at the store or errands I should run). I remember the first few weeks when my mom stayed with us, but after that it kind of becomes a haze of colicky nights and mastering the art of avoiding other people. There were also a lot of other stressful things happening in our lives at that time with my work, family health, etc...that certainly didn't add to the situation. I have a few memories that were bright moments of perfection that pierced the darkness that surrounded my soul. I remember things like going to the kiddie park, trips to Kansas City and visiting family, but the day-to-day stuff, the place where life really happens, is kind of a blur. Not everything was bad, I mean, how can it be with a baby as precious as Gavin (once the colicky part was done). There were days that were better than others, I have pictures where I can see real and genuine smiles, but there's a lot where you can also see a smile that isn't really there. <span id="goog_1058354268"></span><span id="goog_1058354269"></span><br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gavin's first laugh. This I remember.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOS222bqXRDUFAMbAJBnnFoKIJybNQ1P5V68YCJPhgmDkB7j-EyjENAaZi0q-2QLZzXWpkbMJC7Qy7CcB-qJHl8KmoFmVEVDlnzITefyHTMUmNb7nfwgXtOlp2_hQQ_di1tMJ_LRRIx4P/s1600/IMG_4998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOS222bqXRDUFAMbAJBnnFoKIJybNQ1P5V68YCJPhgmDkB7j-EyjENAaZi0q-2QLZzXWpkbMJC7Qy7CcB-qJHl8KmoFmVEVDlnzITefyHTMUmNb7nfwgXtOlp2_hQQ_di1tMJ_LRRIx4P/s320/IMG_4998.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank God I was with it enough to plan this. I mean, how cute are they?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnxOL27OwOiSCPE2Yc23JPFYkZx7rtZPLRw4J3tLuPInd0Eb3hkoQErtk4GZUUA_503hgnzfpiK4JYVF4oMqNYGhnJJKmCEv3OmmiGhfuDXOB_BdjMXlZld3ax-0Cp931oBBlPHLO2Tct0/s1600/IMG_5370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnxOL27OwOiSCPE2Yc23JPFYkZx7rtZPLRw4J3tLuPInd0Eb3hkoQErtk4GZUUA_503hgnzfpiK4JYVF4oMqNYGhnJJKmCEv3OmmiGhfuDXOB_BdjMXlZld3ax-0Cp931oBBlPHLO2Tct0/s320/IMG_5370.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gavin's first Christmas. More real smiles from both of us.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5DdXn9csq6BDOf2Th_MP-haoDkhu8T_5EWjvTRgUdf_TYXLoLrzxNi-A8I3IQvSIFMWwhloBCIGsjNhtIDnt9qBqqp36F-aiw7G3RZz6Sb5mKwDUVrGziFLZyoEz0fbsUgbSJIGwu29ii/s1600/IMG_0642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5DdXn9csq6BDOf2Th_MP-haoDkhu8T_5EWjvTRgUdf_TYXLoLrzxNi-A8I3IQvSIFMWwhloBCIGsjNhtIDnt9qBqqp36F-aiw7G3RZz6Sb5mKwDUVrGziFLZyoEz0fbsUgbSJIGwu29ii/s320/IMG_0642.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture made me sad. This is an example of the blur of this time. I cannot remember Brennon's room ever being arranged this way. I just kept staring at it and wondering if I had a hand in it. </td></tr>
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I have started praying in the last year or so that God would give me back the memories without showing me the darkness that I was living in during that time. It's the kind of darkness that if light was shined on it, the light wouldn't make the darkness disappear, it would just illuminate all of the ugliness that the darkness had caused. Thank God that I had a friend who cared about me enough to resist the way I was pushing her [everyone] away, and suggest that I consider my options as far as medication*. I couldn't go back though, and by the time that cracks of light began to shine through, I had missed a lot. I pray that I am a natural enough mother that I was as good to him during that time as I should have been. <br>
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When Gavin was 10 months old, I was rocking him and I remember I started singing to him. It was such a breakthrough and I was crying because I felt like I really wanted to sing. It wasn't a halfhearted rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle anymore. I wanted to sing to my boy in a way that he would know that his momma loved him. We picked up from there. I couldn't think about everything I had missed. <br>
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My husband was amazing with Gavin. He must have just known exactly what he needed and gave it to him. They were a natural fit. My little boy who shared my looks had a heart that belonged to his one and only, his daddy. I am so glad they have that bond, and it's hardly fair for me to be jealous of it, because the connection I have always had with Brennon (Ryan's mini-me) has been strong. At this time, Ryan was also staying home with the boys during the day while I worked. (And then he worked at night....go, husband! I mean, I can't imagine working and then working some more. He's a champion!) So it seemed natural that Gavin would be close with him, but it still hurt my feelings that every time he got hurt or scared, he never wanted me. He wanted his daddy. But that day in the park, I said what I was really afraid of, and it just made me more scared.<br>
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Although I'm going to stop here, please don't be sad for me. I want you to understand my story, my journey, where and how far I've come. Because the story is far from over, and I think you needed to see this part, because this part has shaped me, so that when I talk to you about what happens next, you will smile along with me too.<br>
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*<i>I am in no way suggesting that medication is the necessary treatment for everyone who experiences postpartum depression. I am simply stating that it is a very real medical condition and ignoring it or pretending it is not there will not make it go away. </i>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-3254121675815451042013-05-16T14:29:00.001-05:002013-05-23T23:54:35.135-05:00The Fight that Gets Us Fired Up, ConclusionIt's been three weeks since I told you to come back tomorrow. For three weeks I've been sitting on that lovely stump called writer's block, but the truth of the matter is that sometimes the best way to get past it is just to write anyway. It's not always pretty and polished, and sometimes it's just downright ugly, but I have to forge ahead. (Also, I'm going on nine months without a good night's sleep, so if you think it's terrible, I'll allow you to say, "Bless her heart, she must be tired.") When I started the series about stay-at-home vs. working moms, I had a million thoughts swimming through my brain, but I just can't quite seem to really get a grip on a single one. So, I'm going to be a truth-teller, and I can't worry any more about who I'm going to offend or who is going to look at me differently. For me, it all boils down to this....I'm scared.<br>
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I did them both, and I did the best I could at it. Well, most of the time I did. For me, the choice is clear that I would love to be at home for as long as I could, but the fact of the matter is that it's just not feasible for our family. I wish it was, but it's not. I'm not resentful of the fact that I'll be going back to work, but that doesn't mean that I won't cry sometimes. I know that so much is going to change as I do return to the world of working moms. I'd like to say that I will cherish each moment with them and make every moment count, but I won't. I'll do my best, but sometimes I'll be tired. Sometimes the best that I'll be able to do is sit on the couch at the end of the day and watch four episodes of Peppa Pig. I don't judge other moms for doing it, so I'll try to forgive myself as well. I'll look for those <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html" target="_blank">Kairos</a> moments when time stands still and things are perfect, and I will cherish that moment and hold it in my heart with a death grip while I go through my work days until the next time one presents itself.<br>
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More than anything I am scared because I don't want my friendships to change. I have been on the mountains and in the trenches of stay-at-home mommyhood this year, and I know that sometimes moms need an outlet, and soon I'll have work for that while my friends who stay-at-home will be desperately seeking time with other adults and conversations that do not include words like potty or boo-boo. And although I love teaching and I'm thankful for my career, my heart will ache to be at home, so I'm afraid. I'm afraid, because I know that sometimes I hear SAHMS complaining about how they feel like they are going to go crazy being home. Believe me, I've had my days, but I try so hard to keep my complaints to those few friends who have seen me at my best and worst, because I know that broadcasting my "poor me, I have to spend all my time with my children" rants on the Internet is only going to twist the knife of jealousy into the wound of those who desire with everything in them to be at home.<br>
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I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to try to make my life seem perfect....it's not. Being a mom is HARD, and being a wife is HARD, and sometimes being a friend is HARD, but pretending to be a perfect mom, wife, or friend is harder. And the hard work of being any and all of those is what makes life so beautiful. So, whether you love it or hate it, remember that your words effect those in your circle. Don't judge others for whatever motherhood choices they are making, because you never know their reasons, their stories, or their journeys unless you're willing to really listen.Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-86222973219276089322013-04-24T14:31:00.002-05:002013-04-24T14:31:23.129-05:00The Fight That Gets Us Fired Up, Part TwoThis is the second part in a three part series about working moms vs. stay-at-home moms. To be clear, I do not think that one is better than the other, I think that it is a personal choice that every mom must make, taking into account every aspect of their family life. This is just my thoughts on the positive and negatives that I experienced into my foray into both sides of motherhood. To get caught up, go back one post and read part one, because you'll be really lost and won't understand a thing if you don't. No, I'm kidding. But, here we are now in 2008, and after a year of being home with my firstborn son, I was about to enter the world of the working mom.<br />
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As I said, before, I was not happy, but I was doing what I knew I needed to do for our family. I went into a new district with a nontraditional, high stress classroom setting, and that did not help matters. The first few weeks, I would cry every time I would think about my son, Brennon, being away from me for so long, but once school actually started, I didn't have time for that. What I know is this: I. Was. Tired. Sure, I was pregnant and had a 14 month old, but really I felt stretched thin. Maybe all working moms don't feel that, but I did. Thankfully, I had a job that I liked to go to, but I would often think of all those moms that didn't enjoy their jobs. Moms who were working one and sometimes two jobs out of necessity. Moms who would spend their time away from their children unhappy. Moms who (like most working moms) end up spending a lot of their paycheck on childcare. I realized how precious my time when I was not at work was, and I felt bad. My poor one friend that I talked about in the last post. She had been working full-time the whole time and never once complained when I asked her to take time on one of her sacred days off to take care of my child so that I could have a break. Staying at home, most mothers feel like they need a break like an occasional night out with friends, but as a working mom, my only break was work. I made a few more friends now that I was outside of the house more, and sometimes they would ask me to go do something with them on a weekend, and I would think, "I already spend so much time away from my kid, why would I want to take even more time away from him?" It was a completely different dynamic. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New curriculum = More boxes = More forts! Score one for the working mom!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I worked for four years before taking another year off. The first year was an adjustment, the second year was my first year working while having two kids. That year, I was in a dark place. It wasn't just because I was working. I struggled with a major bout of postpartum depression. I had the hardest class of my career. I wanted to move back home to Springfield. My husband's career took unexpected turns. It was a tough year. This is a time that I feel deserves its own blog post, but frankly, I'm not ready to be as honest about it as I feel I need to be. The time will come, but not now. The deal was, I think that it was working at that time that saved me. I would cry and cry about how much I wanted to be at home with my kids, but sometimes God has you somewhere because he knows what's best for you better than you do. The routine of having to get up and look decent, going to work, teaching a class, seeing other adults, and trying to make the most of my time with my kids was ultimately a large part of me getting through that time. I won't ever try to make a working mom feel like I judge her for being away from her kids, because sometimes that's the thing that saves her.<br />
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After the darkness was gone, I worked for two more years in a wonderful setting. It was pretty ideal as far as teaching goes...good school, wonderful team, kids were in good childcare, and we didn't have a lot of unnecessary after-school activities that kept me from going home to my children. I was good at my job and I loved the children I taught, but because of who I am (not anybody else, just me), my heart still ached to be at home with my kids. I wouldn't stay after school late to get work done and I wouldn't do any work at home until my kids were in bed asleep. Because of this, I had a hard time finding balance. I'm sure that there are working women who rock at this, but it wasn't me. If you need to grade papers from the time the kids go to sleep until 10:30, you aren't paying much attention to your husband either. When you have to spend one of your precious weekend days cleaning your house, because the laundry can't do itself during the day, it can be frustrating. If you come home from work and want to play on the kitchen floor, but have to go make dinner, it can be frustrating, but as a working mom, you make it work. As a mom who worked, I was always a better manager of my time, because it was such a precious commodity. <br />
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<br />To me, balance was the struggle of the working mother more than anything else. For this reason, I try my best as a stay at home to honor those women who are trying to do it all, because in my world, it made me weary. Maybe it's because I live in a real world, where working to me wasn't about trying to show my boys that women can work and be mom, working for me was about trying to contribute to our family financially, and I am thankful that I could do it with a job that I was good at and that I enjoyed. Thankfully, I feel like I'm a little bit of a natural teacher, because if my job was something that I wasn't too great at on my own, I probably would've cried some more. My experience as a working mom taught me that your circle of people are there for a reason. So, if all of your friends are stay at home moms or all of your friends are working moms, why not cross the fence and realize that we all bring something amazing to the table. We are all moms, and that is magical.<br />
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Come back for part three tomorrow....what I've learned now that I've been both.<br />
<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-23617201759423202272013-04-23T23:01:00.003-05:002013-04-23T23:01:33.808-05:00The Fight That Gets Us Fired Up, Part One.Working mom vs. Stay-at-home mom. I don't understand why we need to fight about it. I really don't. I think that our world works better with both of us in it, and we should be discussing instead of talking at each other. Here's the deal, I've done them both. Mommy guilt is a part of both, and maybe that's what motivates moms to bash the other side, to help them feel better about their own decisions. I don't know, but I have some thoughts about both that I believe are worth sharing, so that's what I'm here to do. This post is part one, the stay at home mom of one.<br />
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When I was pregnant with Brennon, the hubs and I made plans to move to Kansas. I'm not going to go into all the details, but the fact was the reason that we were moving was to better our family financially and to make it possible for me to be home with our child(ren in the future). I was willing to give up my highly desired teaching position at a prominent district in order to be home with my baby. It was in my heart to do it. Did I work hard to start my career? Absolutely. Did I love teaching? Of course. Did I feel like I was taking one in the gut for feminists everywhere? Um, no. I also didn't feel like I was persuaded by some secret army of housewives to become one of them. It was a decision that Ryan and I made together. It was personal. I wanted to take the time to savor each and every moment with my son for whom we had waited and waited and waited. <br />
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So, with a three and half week old baby, we moved and got settled and I enjoyed my time at home. I spent time having fun with my boy. I didn't make mommy friends, I wasn't as productive as I should have been, and I didn't really think about how my staying at home effected anyone else inside or outside my circle. I had a much harder time being away from my family than I ever thought I would. I would second guess my decisions sometimes and wonder if I was doing things wrong. I probably watched much more television than I should have. I would ask my one friend to watch him sometimes on the weekend for a few hours, because he was easy and I wanted to have time to just be a couple. She was great and told me she didn't care, because she had a son who loved Brennon. I was not a perfect mom at all, but I know I was a good mom, and I loved my boy more than life itself. <br />
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I remember so much about that year with my Brennon. I remember rocking him, singing to him, watching Baby Einstein and talking about what was on the screen, reading, reading, reading, and more reading. I remember details about that year, because I'm that crazy lady who feels like I cannot forget anything, because life just won't be as important if there aren't 15,000 pictures to document each year (I'm still working on this!) I did things like take him to the pumpkin patch and the Christmas parade, because he was sure to remember it all, right? It wasn't perfect, and I remember thinking that life with a baby was really hard sometimes, but it was my life and I didn't want to change it. B was such a good baby, and at some point during that year, I remember Ryan's uncle saying, "Oh, he's an easy baby. She's going to want another one soon." <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See, I told you he'd remember it....and he looks thrilled, right? His friend, Drake, is the son of my one and only friend that I mentioned. They are still good friends to this day!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I didn't want to go back to work, but I knew I had to for the financial well-being of our family. I was sad. Really, really sad. I cried a lot. I cried some more and told that one friend that I was going to miss everything. I found a great sitter, and I felt a little better. I told myself it would be okay, because I had the perfect schedule if I did have to work, and then a few days before I went back to work, I found out we were pregnant again. So, I cried some more. Not about having another baby. I wanted that (as predicted by Uncle Right-on-the-Nose). But I cried because I was hormonal and leaving my baby and probably also because of things like the cankles were coming back or worrying about if my new teacher friends would like me or my hair looked funny today or that pizza didn't have enough sauce. All valid concerns during pregnancy, but still, what kind of mom would I be leaving my son everyday? <br />
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Now, I'm not judging, remember this was called part one. Guess what? There's more. In fact, there are two more parts to this. That may seem like too much, but I am certain that every mom out there has either felt or fought from feeling many of the emotions that I will address, and in the next one, it gets real. I'm going to be completely honest about more than what I'm comfortable with, but what I know needs to be put out there. Stay tuned...<br />
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-30607675287303450332013-04-22T11:45:00.001-05:002013-04-22T11:48:51.983-05:00What I KnowAs a woman who has had three children in five years, I've learned a lot. I have all the answers. No, I'm totally kidding. There is a lot of stuff I do not know, such as why I can cook almost anything except for fried eggs, why nap times are never when you need them to be (it's like they don't even care that you would like to go somewhere), or why boys of all ages have really terrible aim (yuck!). However, I have had a lot of experiences that I feel give me a bit of wisdom that I can pass on. I have a lot of friends with babies right now, so I thought I'd pass on what little bit of knowledge I have to you. <br />
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First of all, you are going to get bombarded with stuff that you "have to have" for your baby that you and your baby don't really need at all. For example, wipes warmers. Would you like your booty wiped with a warm wipe? Sure, but guess what, you don't need it. My firstborn had this luxury, and it was wonderful....until you were out in public somewhere and he screamed like you were a monster when you wiped him with a cool wipe. Oh the horror...somebody call social services, I can't believe she just wiped him with a non-warmed wipe. Yeah, it broke a few weeks after that, and by broke I mean, started smelling like it was burning and this momma didn't want my house to be burnt down so my baby's booty could be warm.<br />
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There are a few things that you really should get too, and although everybody has a different opinion, I'm just going to give you mine (the most important one on this blog). I'm totally kidding...please don't think I'm a jerk...keep reading...please. I'm just going to tell you about a few things that have made my life as a mom to a baby easier...and then I'm going to post another post tomorrow that talks about the real stuff, so come back then, but still pass this on to the new mommies you know!<br />
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Ok, here we go. My dear friend, Kathy, gave me the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Happiest-Baby-Block-Harvey-Karp/dp/0553381466/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366647683&sr=1-1&keywords=the+happiest+baby+on+the+block" target="_blank">The Happiest Baby On The Block</a> when I was pregnant with Brennon. I read it, and listened to the main points, but the deal was that Brennon was probably the easiest baby in the world, so it didn't really matter. Then came the next one, and Gavin was, well, not the easiest baby in the world. This book became my lifesaver, and by the time boy #3 came along, the book's main points had become second nature to me. Seriously so helpful.<br />
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Invest in some good teethers. They make your life so much easier. The best one ever is hard to find in stores, but you can get it on Amazon, and it's called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wimmer-Ferguson-Soothing-Silicone-Teether/dp/B00ALIP8OE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366648121&sr=8-1&keywords=wimmer+teether" target="_blank">The Wimmer</a>. I seriously bought an extra one when I was afraid I lost it once. It's so easy to clean too, so woo hoo! The other teether you need is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Vulli-Sophie-the-Giraffe-Teether/dp/B000IDSLOG/ref=sr_1_1?s=baby-products&ie=UTF8&qid=1366648232&sr=1-1&keywords=sophie+the+giraffe+teether" target="_blank">Sophie the Giraffe</a>. I know you're thinking, $20 for a teether, what a rip! (Or at least I was!) But really, it is so great and all my boys love it as a toy beyond the teether. Also, the hubs calls it their dog toy, because it squeaks, so maybe don't take that one to church.<br />
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The not most fun, but necessary item you need to know about is called <a href="http://www.calmoseptineointment.com/" target="_blank">Calmoseptine</a>. It's a diaper cream (and used for a whole slew of other things mentioned on the package that are too gross to talk about here). Now, you don't need this if your baby's bottom gets a little red, but if you have a serious diaper rash you're dealing with, it is the only thing that will clear it up on even the most sensitive skin in no time. Most pharmacies keep it behind the counter, so don't spend forever looking for it, just ask. It's like that little gem you've never heard of, but once you use it, you can't believe people aren't shouting it from the rooftops. <br />
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Finally, once your baby is sitting up and starting to crawl, you're going to want one awesome toy that you'll totally get your money's worth on, and the best one ever is <a href="http://www.fisher-price.com/en_US/products/30446" target="_blank">this house.</a> My boys have all loved it, and still do. Even my oldest will play with it with his baby brother, Fletcher. The other great thing about it is that it doesn't waste batteries. As much as this thing is played with, the batteries last forever. (Oh, and go ahead and buy stock in AA batteries now, trust me, in the future, you'll be happy you did!) <br />
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Ok, I know this didn't pertain to everyone, but I remember what it was like to be a new mommy and be overwhelmed by everything available for babies. If I helped even one of you, I did my job. Now, go kiss your babies and don't feel bad about rocking them, it's not time wasted. You will never, ever regret taking the time to do it. And remember these two things, 1. You are doing a good job. You are tired and hormonal and maybe losing your hair, but you are doing a great job! and 2. You are the expert on your baby. Hope I helped, and remember to come back tomorrow and get a good talking to!<br />
<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-61049664504223300532013-04-05T12:34:00.004-05:002013-04-05T12:34:42.195-05:00High Five For Friday! I love the idea of High Five For Friday (H54F)...looking back on the week and seeing the highlights of where you've been and what you've done. I've read a lot of blogs that participate, but I never had. So I decided with a week as packed full as ours was, it was the perfect time for me to do it, so here we go...<br />
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1. We started the week in Springfield for Easter. We sure missed having Ryan there with us on Easter morning, but it was still fun and special as we celebrated our risen Lord with Gramma and Poppo!<br />
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2. On Tuesday, my baby Fletcher turned 8 months old! I hate it! No, I don't, but it's just that delicate balance between wanting my baby to stay tiny forever and enjoying seeing him grow. But seriously, I do not like the fact that he's getting past the part where he lets me hold him forever, because he wants to be down and exploring the world around him. 8 months...how can this be?<br />
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3. Wednesday was my birthday! Woo hoo! It was actually really super. The hubs actually stayed home on his day off, took care of all the laundry and dishes, brought me flowers and a gift certificate to a massage (who doesn't love that!?!) and we went to lunch in Bartlesville at my favorite restaurant, Frank & Lola's...YUM! Also, that night my father-in-law and dear friend, Jenifer came over to join us for carrot cake! It was such a nice, special day...I really loved it! And also, who doesn't love birthdays on Facebook? You can't help but feel special!<br />
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4. Yesterday was Elegant Day in kindergarten. The kids dressed elegantly, ate elegantly, read and sang elegantly, and ballroom danced together. It was probably the sweetest thing ever, and this mama got a little teary at the sight of Brennon dancing with his sweet friend, Kenedi. It was like a glimpse into his future as I know someday he'll be dancing with a girl (other than me...boo hoo!) at his prom and even his wedding. On those days, I'm sure it will seem like just a whisper away from this day. My son is so handsome, just like his daddy. Be still my heart...<br />
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5. Yesterday, Gavin also had an Easter party at preschool. It was so cute. The kids had made fruit kabobs with marshmallows, there was a chocolate fountain, a lemonade fountain, cookies, and an Easter egg hunt. They even told us their Bible verse, all with cute little actions. We love Gavy's school, and he does too!<br />
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Hope y'all have a fab Friday & a great weekend. I sure plan to!<br />
If you want to do your own H54F, you can link up over here!<br />
<a href="http://www.frommygreydeskblog.com/search/label/high%20five%20for%20friday" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" photo H54Fbutton-triangle_zps678b65ba.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1216.photobucket.com/albums/dd361/lauren_FMGD/H54Fbutton-triangle_zps678b65ba.jpg" /></a>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-82467174779204672812013-04-02T17:42:00.000-05:002013-04-02T23:14:48.095-05:00My Gift of RemembranceIt always rains on April 2nd. Or at least it has for the last ten years. I know you probably think that's some crazy statistic that I made up, but I promise that it is not. I know this because the rain is a gift to me. A gift of remembrance as my firstborn son celebrates another birthday with Jesus. When you lose a child, it goes against the natural order of things. It's a make or break time in your life in so many ways...in your faith, your relationships, your hope. At first it was unbearable, and Ryan and I were starting our married life together and clinging to each other with absolute desperation as we endured the horribleness of the situation. We went back and forth with being mad at God, having questions, and feeling like we just wanted Him to hold us in the palm of his hand. And he did. Through it all, he did. And now, all this time has passed and while the hurt has faded, we still have Connor Patrick Wall engraved on our hearts, just as He has us engraved in his hand. The rain is mine though, and I welcome it. When we were finally blessed with our other children, it seemed as if the rest of the world breathed a sigh of relief. Oh good, now they have children, now we don't have to bring up the uncomfortable situation of the son that they lost. The elephant was out of the room, left the building, and had pretty much traveled out of this country. I'm so blessed with Brennon, Gavin, and Fletcher. Don't get me wrong, I have accepted the situation, and I know that someday we will be reunited and my children here will meet their older brother. But on this day, I want to remember, I don't want to forget. And so on this day, Jesus reminds me that it is okay to cry for him, but only for a time, because he is so busy having another amazing birthday celebration which would put all my perfectly planned parties to shame. And on earth a party better than one of mine might irk me, but for my boy, it brings me hope and a perfect peace. Mommy loves you. XOErinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-53753057219549629422013-03-12T10:47:00.002-05:002013-03-12T10:52:41.656-05:00Life with 310 months later, and I'm still here. I cannot believe how much my life has changed since I last blogged. There are about a million things that I can list, but the most important thing is that way back then I was the mom of two precious boys, and now I have three. I heard so many things from my friends who had three or more kids about how much it changes when you have more than two, and as much as they all sounded like cliches, it is so true. We pretty much had it down as parents of two. Oh, not that we were perfect; far from it. Juggling two of anything is really doable: apples, bowling pins, children...believe me, you can do it with some practice. Three is a whole new game. <br />
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I'm not at all saying that I don't enjoy having three kids. I do. Really (yes, some days I have to convince myself). It brings me great joy. Yes, joy, frustration, elation, exhaustion, sadness, fun, pride, laughter, and fulfillment all rolled into each and every day. Even now that my baby is seven months old, sometimes I feel like a hormonal, emotional basket case. For a long time I would say that it's just postpartum hormones, but now I think it is just part of being a mom. How could I not feel that every day? My heart is constantly in three pieces, and I'm wearing it on the outside of my body. It's tender, and it gets bounced around and stretched and thrown back together a million times a day. <br />
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Staying home with my kids may just add to the mix. I love being home. When I think about going back to work, it makes my heartache. I know that it will come in just a few short months, but for now I'm cherishing my time here. Don't get me wrong, I'm not spending my whole day making lovey eyes at my children. Sometimes cherishing my time at home looks like me pulling my hair out. I have moments every day when I want to freeze time and take a mental picture of how perfect my kids are at this exact moment, and then ten minutes later I am desperately trying to recall that special moment as I put one of them in time-out (for the gazillionth time). I love to hear my kids laugh together. Each bit of laughter is adding to my mom life meter (I have a five year old who is obsessed with video games, it's the best analogy I could come up with) and I try to bank as much of that laughter as I can, because I have no doubt that right around the corner comes the fighting or crying or heaven help me, stepping on a Lego that rapidly depletes it. <br />
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Having three makes you more aware that sometimes you are that mom that you've been judging all this time. Yes, I will bribe my kids with the promise of McD's to make it through a trip to Walmart with all three of them. Yes, I will tell them that it's too cold to go to the park when really I don't feel like getting out of the house that day. Yes, I will have nights when I realize that we barely got in five minutes of reading, let alone the recommended 30. Yes, I whisper threats to them in the restaurant to try to get them to quit acting like the kids that they are. Yes, I put off playing with them sometimes to do things like organize a cabinet. Yes, I'll love them with ever fiber of my being, but Lord help me, I'm not about to let them turn out like jerks. Yes, I put them to bed at night and then wonder if I'm doing a good enough job. But I am. I know that I am, because I know that they are my little blessings. I may have to ask my Jesus twenty times a day to give me the strength to not be the worst version of myself, but that's why I know that I am doing a good enough job. Because I know that I care enough about these three precious hearts to be a real and honest mom, even if it's not the pretty, polished version.Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-78784697927454450102012-05-15T23:32:00.001-05:002012-05-15T23:33:02.378-05:00Lessons I Learned in Pre-K<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
Tomorrow is my son, Brennon's, last day in pre-K. Or maybe not. I don't know for sure. See, my boy is a summer baby, and I know that by now we should have decided what's going to be in his future, but we haven't. Even so, whether or not we decide to put Brennon in kindergarten or another year of pre-K in the fall, he's still ending his first year of school tomorrow. That's a milestone no matter how you look at it. During this year, Brennon has learned so much more than I could have imagined, but I've learned quite a bit as well. </div>
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First of all, I've learned or rather, had confirmed that time flies by. This sounds so ridiculous, because there isn't a parent out there that doesn't say this at some time, but really, it's unbelievable to me that the boy for whom we waited and waited to join our family, is almost five years old. He speaks like a little man and he is a little man. I love this little man with all my heart, and I just hope that he knows that I treasure the time that I have with him. I'm so thankful that he's been trusted to me.</div>
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I've learned sometimes God sends people into your life through your children. My friend, Jenifer and I knew each other before the beginning of the school year. We were happy that our kids were in the same class, and we even made small talk on the first day of class while they played puzzles at the same table. We hoped they would become good friends, but we had no idea that the two of us would become the best of friends. As Brennon & Serenity became "boyfriend and girlfriend", we found that we loved spending time together as friends with our kiddos more than we could've known.</div>
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I learned that he's not going to learn everything from me or from the classroom. Sometimes I'll ask Brennon where he learned something, and he'll tell me from Peppa Pig or from hearing you. The other day, he told me he learned the right way to hug from watching daddy and I hug in the kitchen. This obviously wasn't something we set about to teach him, it was just something he learned from our day to day life. The opportunity for him to learn something is always there, even if I am not always ready to take it. From teaching, I've always heard children are like sponges and may soak everything up, and it is so so true<br />
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I learned that relationships formed at an early age, even those outside of the family, are so very important. Tonight, I tried to hold back tears as Brennon told me at bedtime that he did not want to leave his friends and his class. He wanted to go to pre-K with them forever. He didn't want to think about having a new teacher next year, because Miss Kelly and Miss Connie are supposed to be his teachers...forever. He had an amazing first experience in school, and for that I will always be thankful.<br />
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</div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-36095252770954849752012-04-06T23:00:00.002-05:002012-04-06T23:02:00.212-05:003 Years Have Flown By....Almost two weeks ago now, my little baby turned three. I know, I know, he isn't my little baby anymore, but he still so is. Gavin is the boy who helps me see more and more that personality can be strong from the beginning, that children certainly do inherit both the best and worse from their parents, and that humor is undoubtedly necessary in everyday life. There is so much to say about my Gavs, that I just had to take the time to think back about how we got to this point. Just a warning, I love this little boy more than life itself, so if I get mushy, well, you've been warned.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4x1rsaEW7ZnLlXjRvaeK56l3TFUkmNTSrLFaORF7693k08VSgN-UfjkqJkTMv9l4X8ThzRRMppVNYCh0TW1vIL4-UjQcfKFy1pSpOsNvpRSl-CitHo3YcVsniggE2dj6sgHk3RciCPEv/s1600/Gavin3rdBday+068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4x1rsaEW7ZnLlXjRvaeK56l3TFUkmNTSrLFaORF7693k08VSgN-UfjkqJkTMv9l4X8ThzRRMppVNYCh0TW1vIL4-UjQcfKFy1pSpOsNvpRSl-CitHo3YcVsniggE2dj6sgHk3RciCPEv/s400/Gavin3rdBday+068.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My pregnancy with Gavin was so different than that of Brennon. He gave us scares. He made sure his entrance was unforgettable: 2 weeks early, the cord wrapped around his neck two times, and wrapped around his big toe once (so that every time that he was kicking, he was pulling the cord), and then we dealt with jaundice for the first week of his life. His first few months were hard: colic, a snowstorm the day he came home, postpartum depression, and colic....oh and colic. Ugh! But even from the beginning, he was my little cuddle bug. He would pull his legs up under his tummy and he would snuggle his face into my neck and just cuddle. He would happily stay in my baby sling, so close to my heart for an hour at a time. He brought me so much agony (did I mention that he was colicky), and so much joy from the moment he entered our world. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3IgKQIV5bJyMmVePBZ_SLkz_W3yBWtH9y662fmu8Xu96juaB5jzpfCy3vHrhkFeoqARNUJtPuhxMdgwuHaQuoJWrLZocRQOuV-eroubV0089Z36uAYQzn4N6knqUX8VG64LW8QqRDxUNH/s1600/2680_60745109429_573509429_1442865_6371613_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3IgKQIV5bJyMmVePBZ_SLkz_W3yBWtH9y662fmu8Xu96juaB5jzpfCy3vHrhkFeoqARNUJtPuhxMdgwuHaQuoJWrLZocRQOuV-eroubV0089Z36uAYQzn4N6knqUX8VG64LW8QqRDxUNH/s320/2680_60745109429_573509429_1442865_6371613_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGl8_tQuH0gB-PwaeWVJqWNIuaXnmPl6w1myudVSAazfUnL2njXvn8SQtCwkUT73jIqZ_79Nq0C5tZ3wKM1mObNTv7yFGojkxyU-hXlmxgkxogG3DdGu8BxZ-n82XW-iRp-gHuuu0o5gG4/s1600/4661_89788829429_573509429_1769611_3807561_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGl8_tQuH0gB-PwaeWVJqWNIuaXnmPl6w1myudVSAazfUnL2njXvn8SQtCwkUT73jIqZ_79Nq0C5tZ3wKM1mObNTv7yFGojkxyU-hXlmxgkxogG3DdGu8BxZ-n82XW-iRp-gHuuu0o5gG4/s320/4661_89788829429_573509429_1769611_3807561_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm sure I'm not the only mom to ever compare her children, but I found that having two kids so close together made it especially hard. During his first year, Gavin ate food sooner (which at the time I thought was from me loosening up as a mom, but now that I see what a foodie Gavin is, it doesn't surprise me at all), he laughed sooner and much more often (still no shocker), and although he became mobile later, once he started, he didn't care so much about walking as he did climbing! Brennon was so neat and clean, and Gavin was just all over the place. He didn't care if the spaghetti ended up just as much in his hair or the wall as it did in his mouth. Brennon was quiet, and Gavin was loud. He didn't really care as much about television, which is still the case, and he LOVED music. Gavin loves to sing, be sung to, and dance, dance, dance! I remember a time when he was probably only about a year and half that the Sunday school teacher said to me that she was shocked about what rhythm Gavin had. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVwKiU-zxjPOWt1_pn1mbi0w7N8rqPN1cmNY-693KL8lTeM8mX7cGVQM3tC_W_-CRItiuUTR8lC9tXpXrWcMZq7t9sbqF9rvZkQzQ3a5f9D8E1fMo6Ngi5euDsfDVSPYQalBiisnl3qQs/s1600/24971_370265984429_573509429_3506989_1495097_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVwKiU-zxjPOWt1_pn1mbi0w7N8rqPN1cmNY-693KL8lTeM8mX7cGVQM3tC_W_-CRItiuUTR8lC9tXpXrWcMZq7t9sbqF9rvZkQzQ3a5f9D8E1fMo6Ngi5euDsfDVSPYQalBiisnl3qQs/s320/24971_370265984429_573509429_3506989_1495097_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rXhXj462AmiO_YjoS0qp22D2qJm9GnSGp1J1RbYIaqyrf-BFqal5xotjPDDHGT4TIqipV6ArNKpfHyQfzcnnVWR-NOyS-K_9JXo0uIEvkEG9P6-SgDnpSn6aw8fK1T2S8zVNSL3oKp7D/s1600/35310_416774444429_573509429_4426478_7585085_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rXhXj462AmiO_YjoS0qp22D2qJm9GnSGp1J1RbYIaqyrf-BFqal5xotjPDDHGT4TIqipV6ArNKpfHyQfzcnnVWR-NOyS-K_9JXo0uIEvkEG9P6-SgDnpSn6aw8fK1T2S8zVNSL3oKp7D/s320/35310_416774444429_573509429_4426478_7585085_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcsHoFWxN6egmXHwzWGpFUrckB7sRzF_jgELk1bEeiGUUm_4BgXe03-MlB6Jt2rF7-PJhmR3ON2lR62X4RllLKi7Pr6GPuG7rFKpA6xw2uskoC_f7Unr5fTNg3fBEZGLG4xI-Gr8Tppyq/s1600/44950_446541529429_573509429_5061167_7065240_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcsHoFWxN6egmXHwzWGpFUrckB7sRzF_jgELk1bEeiGUUm_4BgXe03-MlB6Jt2rF7-PJhmR3ON2lR62X4RllLKi7Pr6GPuG7rFKpA6xw2uskoC_f7Unr5fTNg3fBEZGLG4xI-Gr8Tppyq/s320/44950_446541529429_573509429_5061167_7065240_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As Gavin continued to grow, I would see the best (expressive, loving) and worst of me (temper....uh, yes) demonstrated in him. I love that he looks like me, but I think that's just because my handsome Brennon looks like Ryan's mini-me. My mom showed my brother, Kyle, a picture of me when I was about 5 months old, and Kyle asked why we put Gavin in a dress. I love it! He is my mini-me, only with less hair bows!</div> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVn44KzUdY5wxsyImH2p1kcy-FKUtMjFKJxElrGpFE2_6wylZObUMWO0ZcuBLu1MYZV6fh4EroYJhQk5wljEzvAboDwKnY0spbVhMJNamJKy7zsnxs6SgjEbLgYn0oTwB0D82Xg3GI4C-/s1600/264232_10150224877594430_573509429_7017357_7816764_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVn44KzUdY5wxsyImH2p1kcy-FKUtMjFKJxElrGpFE2_6wylZObUMWO0ZcuBLu1MYZV6fh4EroYJhQk5wljEzvAboDwKnY0spbVhMJNamJKy7zsnxs6SgjEbLgYn0oTwB0D82Xg3GI4C-/s320/264232_10150224877594430_573509429_7017357_7816764_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At age 2, he started sticking out his tongue and making funny faces in pictures....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Gavin is now three years old, and I see personality, personality, personality! He loves his family, his friends, and animals. He goes from talking about how much he loves them and being charming in general to teasing in no time flat. He will tell Brennon that he loves him and that he is his best friend and then bring sibling rivalry to new levels within a span of two minutes. He loves to tease, especially because he is able to get to Brennon. I was shocked when Gavin was only two and a half and he was taunting his older brother saying that he bought him "girly princess stuff" for Christmas. He loves to make silly faces when you take his picture, have his "neck meat" tickled, and use his wild imagination. He is still my cuddle bug, only now it happens when the mood strikes, and he is uber-competitive (I do not know where he gets that, ahem!) He loves to feel like he's done something, and I love when he says, "I can do it by by my myself!" Although I sometimes do worry about his pronunciation, I have to admit that I will absolutely miss the way that he says somethings when he grows out of it. I mean, will I even know who he's talking about when he calls him "Brennon" instead of "Bwennon"? He tries my patience almost daily, but he also has me (and many of my friends) wrapped around his finger. I am so happy that is a part of my life, and that God gave us someone to make us laugh through every situation. And on a side note, I apologize future teachers, because I know what it is like to have a class clown on your hands, but please know, I kid you not when I say that he will keep a smile on your face and laughter in your heart each and every day! I love you, my Gavy, you are my sweet, silly boy, and Mommy loves all that you are...I always will! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xCD_NvB77VtZJhdfZFSGFUs8Ugb2QwcsZMni2i1WcShn6E6zXgPgNYmij436R85rqE9MAn6MDVaPxfmTdUIj_y7H1voDrAlelaZfw0Ca2IDl9__1sq4i5XyqWYuOLqf2nd18J7girH8p/s1600/April2012+015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xCD_NvB77VtZJhdfZFSGFUs8Ugb2QwcsZMni2i1WcShn6E6zXgPgNYmij436R85rqE9MAn6MDVaPxfmTdUIj_y7H1voDrAlelaZfw0Ca2IDl9__1sq4i5XyqWYuOLqf2nd18J7girH8p/s400/April2012+015.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53ldKS-u3QjQy03oJMKUsrtob_7MubqUSjgLJvzoLRUGA2lDINi6JC4Xb8Y9Lf1sg4RwhUCqICf14mpt_EUF06kMOfwkqrSJQP2G6AtPOezvAMw5vHn78mhXkfsDxywAifH2N7Rh4LQr9/s1600/April2012+019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53ldKS-u3QjQy03oJMKUsrtob_7MubqUSjgLJvzoLRUGA2lDINi6JC4Xb8Y9Lf1sg4RwhUCqICf14mpt_EUF06kMOfwkqrSJQP2G6AtPOezvAMw5vHn78mhXkfsDxywAifH2N7Rh4LQr9/s400/April2012+019.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-40641551233692172222012-03-04T21:40:00.000-06:002012-03-04T21:40:33.441-06:00I Don't Know How She Doesn't Do ItI'm never going to be that woman. The woman who everyone looks at and says "I don't know how she does it!" I don't think this ever really bothered me before, but now that I'm pregnant with our third child, I've been kind of boxing myself daily about why I'm not getting everything done each day. Maybe it's that little bit of freaking out about if I can't get everything done now, how in the world will I get it done with THREE??? I mean, why am I not finished with a completed to-do list including dinner, papers graded, baths, bedtime, shopping, bills paid, lunches planned, laundry folded, dishes done, doctor's appointments, toys away, and cookies baking in the oven, and blog updated? (Which is incidentally, why this blog hasn't been updated near as much as I'd like! I mean, I think about it all the time. I'll think of something and think, I'm going to blog about that, and well, it just doesn't always happen.)<br />
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Besides having the recent revelation that NOBODY does it all, I also realized that I don't want to. If I am able to do all that I need to do each day completely on my own, what part shall God's grace play in my life? Due to the fact that I know I cannot in any way get everything done that I would like to get done in my many roles, I know that I have to begin every day by asking God to please help me have strength, wisdom, discernment, and peace. <br />
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Acknowledging my need for God's help doesn't mean I am a flawless mother, wife, or teacher. Quite the opposite, in fact. It means that I know my flaws, I know what I'm going to struggle with, including mommy guilt. That alone, could crush me daily. The reason it doesn't crush me is because I am aware that most moms deal with mommy guilt. It can surface in any number of ways. Maybe today I feel guilty for not getting as much done around the house. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel guilty for doing too much around the house and not spending enough "quality time" with kids. A week from now, I could feel guilty about being too harsh with my sons when I know they're only 2 and 4. Next Wednesday, I can beat myself up for being too tired to make dinner and feeding my kids junkie fast food for dinner. And a month from now, maybe I'll even feel guilty for making a hair appointment in the evening when I'm already away from my kids all day while I teach. But the fact of the matter is, mommy guilt is a chameleon. It can take on whatever form it needs to get its point across. It is almost certainly the most efficient way that women attack themselves in their daily lives. <br />
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You can think to yourself, "Why can't I get it all done like Sally?" or "Why can't we have a normal day of errands without meltdowns like Mary and her kids?" Well, Sally and Mary may look like they've got it all together, but I promise something's not done or at least not done in the right way. Maybe Sally's a hoarder and Mary's taking little Billy's ADD meds. Okay, so maybe it's nothing that drastic, but I like to make it really crazy in my head so I seem a little less crazy myself. Well, that, and I have a really huge need for humor in my life. So, I ask God to help me remember that he called me to live my life, and nobody else's. How could I have guilt over not getting everything done when only Sally's called to that anyway? And so, if my blogs appear few and far between and only the front of my shirt is ironed, I'll still hold my head high and know that I'm getting done with everything God helped me do that day. After all, I'd rather cross off half my to-do list with his help than the whole thing on my own. It will help me down the line to teach my children to rely on God's grace. It will help me keep my sense of humor as a mom, and most of all, it will help me remember that NOBODY really does it all!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-11355850617130651522011-12-31T22:00:00.001-06:002013-04-02T23:15:36.894-05:0010 Years Later....Tonight is the ten year anniversary of the night that Ryan proposed to me. Our story doesn't begin there of course, and maybe I'll cover the beginning another time, but for now, I would like to reminisce about the moment I became Mrs. Wall-to-be. Ryan and I had been dating for about a year and a half (minus a few months where "we were on a break"--no copy girl involved for you Friends fans). I had a feeling that it was coming for a while. I knew that it wouldn't happen at Christmas, because we spent it with family, both his and mine, and proposing around a lot of people we know just isn't Ryan's style. So, New Year's seemed like the perfect time. New beginnings, romantic dinner, perfect...right? Well, so I thought. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aren't we fancy? We look so young!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We went to dinner at Top of the Rock in Branson (Remember it? It was great!) We were all dressed up and feeling like we were such mature adults, as we were at 21 and 22. (HA!) The restaurant already had an intimate feel, but Ryan also had us seated at a table with an excellent view of the lake. Gorgeous view, semi-private location, seemed like a good spot to me. I don't remember what we ate, but I do remember we had creme brulee for dessert. Not surprising that I remember dessert, I know. Dessert would have been a nice time to propose, no? No. I remember we even walked out onto the balcony after we ate even though it was ridiculously freezing! Perfect opportunity, so I thought. Nope. I was starting to get mildly annoyed, but didn't want my future husband to see that, because frankly until I got the ring on my finger, I was a little bit afraid of letting him see my crazy side. Not that he hadn't seen hints, but really what girl wants to go all crazypants pre-engagement. So, I kept my cool, because that feeling in my gut told me to just be patient, it was coming. We walked back inside the restaurant before the frostbite kicked in and enjoyed the view a few more moments so that he could pull at that ring and pop the question. Or not. So we finished up got in the car and drove back to Springfield to Ryan's apartment. <br />
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"Mind if we just hang out at home and watch the ball drop?", he says. "No, of course not" (you big jerkface), I reply, I know he hadn't done anything wrong, I was just so sure of the fact that it was the night. So sure that when my cousin Kristi offered to pay me double to babysit on New Year's Eve, I had told her no, because I knew that it would have been worth it. I thought it would have anyway. We get back to Ryan's apartment, and I'm thinking "Hey, forget this, I'm not staying all fancy to sit on the couch for the next three hours and watch some old geezer count down to the new year." So, I followed Ryan's lead and changed into sweats and threw my hair up in a ponytail (just to be clear, he didn't have a ponytail, if he had, I wouldn't have been hoping for a proposal from him). It was a fine evening once we got there and got comfy, just not anything fabulous. We sat and cuddled on the same couches that sit on our living room now (four moves later). We drank hot chocolate, and we watched Dick Clark. Let's see it was 2001, so who was on? Probably Jessica Simpson or Pink or some other artist that was not too memorable, but then again, I may have been thinking about something else. <br />
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About 10 minutes to midnight, Ryan says that he has to go to the bathroom really bad. Wow, can this night get any more romantic? He's back in the bathroom forever, and pretty soon I'm thinking that he better at least hurry up enough to get out here and kiss me as we ring in 2002. So, I tell him to hurry up, they're already counting. Could I get more annoyed at this point? Well, I hear the door open and there are only 3 seconds left as he walks down the hallway and comes around the corner in his white Saturday Night Fever tuxedo holding a dozen roses and drops to his knee as the clock strikes midnight, and I hear the best words I had ever heard in my life, "Marry me, please, be my wife." YES!!!! The fireworks blasting across the television had nothing on the ones that were going off in my heart. He asked me! I knew he would! It couldn't have been more like him in any other way. It was just for us, it was special, and it is our story forever. I could never have foreseen the ups and downs that would follow, but the answer I gave him was the most certain answer I've ever given, and I would say yes again a million times over. I am a very lucky girl!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-37240820935040549822011-12-27T22:00:00.000-06:002011-12-27T22:00:19.575-06:00Merry Christmas, DarlingsFor all those friends and family who don't make the "cut" to have me spend money on stamps, I thought I wanted to post our Christmas letter for this year so that you can also read my end-of-the-year wrap-up. <br />
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<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light"; font-size: 14pt;">Christmas 2011</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light"; font-size: 14pt;">Dear Family & Friends, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Merry Christmas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hope this letter finds you happy, peaceful, and ready for Christmas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems like each year we think we’ll be done with everything by this time, but it just doesn’t quite happen that way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That doesn’t mean we aren’t enjoying every minute of this season, just that we have learned to savor the season, even with a handful of craziness mixed in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" stroked="f"><stroke joinstyle="miter"></stroke><formulas><f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"></f><f eqn="sum @0 1 0"></f><f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"></f><f eqn="prod @2 1 2"></f><f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"></f><f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"></f><f eqn="sum @0 0 1"></f><f eqn="prod @6 1 2"></f><f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"></f><f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"></f><f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"></f><f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"></f></formulas><path gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect" o:extrusionok="f"></path><lock aspectratio="t" v:ext="edit"></lock></shapetype><shape id="_x0000_s1026" style="height: 198pt; margin-left: 6pt; margin-top: 4.55pt; position: absolute; width: 168.1pt; z-index: -1;" type="#_x0000_t75" wrapcoords="-94 0 -94 21523 21600 21523 21600 0 -94 0"><imagedata o:title="Holidays 033" src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\walle\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image001.jpg"></imagedata><wrap type="tight"></wrap></shape><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This year has flown by!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brennon is 4½ & Gavin is 2½, and they are on the go all the time!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the fall, Brennon started going to pre-k three days a week at Grace Academy Preschool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has made some great friends there, and we are so proud of his hard work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also played soccer for the first time, which may have been even more fun for us to watch than it was for him to play!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brennon loves Batman, Legos, doing art projects, and playing Wii.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gavin loves Disney Cars, singing and dancing, and playing outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gavin also likes to spend most of this time going from Brennon’s best friend to worst enemy and back again about one thousand times a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess that’s brothers being brothers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfqS_Gc7z_6Y4GvV9OO4Yi-tPqXV-2et__oT72JMKszmLOpXuy-owh8GnQ8TuGHJg2zu6w9SGuyFGVgCaZwGjf8wSqudUlH6S7s05ytyL4nRL_9XTsZkl9qH5MK0vmfdTMHpDsq2OUJmtw/s1600/Xmas11+148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfqS_Gc7z_6Y4GvV9OO4Yi-tPqXV-2et__oT72JMKszmLOpXuy-owh8GnQ8TuGHJg2zu6w9SGuyFGVgCaZwGjf8wSqudUlH6S7s05ytyL4nRL_9XTsZkl9qH5MK0vmfdTMHpDsq2OUJmtw/s400/Xmas11+148.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ryan and I have been very blessed to be able to be the ones raising our kids full-time this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m still teaching second grade here in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Coffeyville</place></city>, but what I mean by that is that our sons very rarely have to go to a sitter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have been able to coordinate our schedules so that Brennon and Gavin are home with us most days, except when Brennon is at school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan is Super-Dad, and he stays home with the boys during the day, and then he is able to work in the evenings so that I can be home with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has been quite a transition for us, but we are so thankful that we are not only saving money, but raising our children ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We get to enjoy all the little joys and make use of all the teachable moments that crop up day to day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.1in 0pt 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light"; font-size: 14pt;">As I said earlier, we are enjoying our life, albeit a little crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, the craziness doesn’t matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s all about living in the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not trying to be profound, and I’m certainly not saying anything new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, we see the same thing in the Bible when Jesus visits Mary and Martha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary sits with Jesus and takes in the moment, while Martha is the Type A hostess who is making sure that the ornaments are spaced correctly on the tree or that the wreath is hanging straight on the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m comfortable saying this, because I am a Martha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I work on it constantly, but it’s true, I have to remind myself to be more like Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wasn’t stressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that if she was here today, she would be having a very merry Christmas, and as the song says, she would ‘let her heart be light’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t miss the blessing that came from stopping everything to sit and take in the presence of her Savior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Isn’t that truly what this season is all about, after all?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May you get all you wish for in this season of miracles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We pray peace and blessings for all of you in the New Year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Merry Christmas!</span></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-70457615766002771442011-12-09T20:12:00.000-06:002011-12-09T20:12:59.287-06:00Christmas Traditions<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; 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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxP4GuGWsxJjOmuAgL7nn_SLs65pIgMFqbw1GpZUUp_yPWp06jAoOpTRuXHMPOhkqB6llgFHGseRQr3DJdmt2jJt-bTnvA20930F4vnPFGPl8s4wUKhc93onW5f49owWQ4lNVtjRLslxGL/s1600/Xmas85_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxP4GuGWsxJjOmuAgL7nn_SLs65pIgMFqbw1GpZUUp_yPWp06jAoOpTRuXHMPOhkqB6llgFHGseRQr3DJdmt2jJt-bTnvA20930F4vnPFGPl8s4wUKhc93onW5f49owWQ4lNVtjRLslxGL/s320/Xmas85_0002.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Merry Christmas!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I was growing up, we had a lot of special Christmas traditions in our home, and even now that I haven't lived at home in well over a decade, I still think of them this time of year. I love that these traditions were so important and unique to our life and they weren't about anything other than our family being together, enjoying the season, and making memories.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkloINI1UohT3CgZE4Z1D-LaHEneJCSWEbFy0V3QMmJI67wdSbbXVhsTnKN8hMEZ-vcBPXyUxweLGRj_CZtmT-n3oGwWkb0Vx8floUaAoLYb9qmfMQI4jEp2V9MveUA-XldhJCu_t_r06B/s1600/Christmas+82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="272" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkloINI1UohT3CgZE4Z1D-LaHEneJCSWEbFy0V3QMmJI67wdSbbXVhsTnKN8hMEZ-vcBPXyUxweLGRj_CZtmT-n3oGwWkb0Vx8floUaAoLYb9qmfMQI4jEp2V9MveUA-XldhJCu_t_r06B/s320/Christmas+82.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's my dad and I before we moved from Pennsylvania (and before he lost all his hair...notice when I was the only child, he had plenty of hair. I blame it all on my siblings!)</div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQIubxmj9YXS-V5layNC_Dsmklpi3gX193gcF500UQN6F_FcPI9U3cYK5k44XLj3E2phlWb_iXTPgj5ukZTvysMck0YPKg_LlX6AlRoZDlhVe9rdEVmPlTytZtm3QxYVoIdjMzKJJwtS1g/s1600/Xmas01_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQIubxmj9YXS-V5layNC_Dsmklpi3gX193gcF500UQN6F_FcPI9U3cYK5k44XLj3E2phlWb_iXTPgj5ukZTvysMck0YPKg_LlX6AlRoZDlhVe9rdEVmPlTytZtm3QxYVoIdjMzKJJwtS1g/s320/Xmas01_0004.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"> I was so excited to get my first kitchen! </div><div style="text-align: center;">My cousins Karri and Krista only made it more fun to play with!</div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRWfpyh2k47pIKJeJWCjWGT4c-Tg2jEGwwMzqa0O1L-ClWimt9v4nYyXuKQ-7Bo19wEMO09BtRzjdXzQyrYPvXnbil-a79OsGpF2KFU87G91AhvxtvSIEsfsHoxSuf0-CZ0HhffvDAqNY/s1600/Xmas85_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRWfpyh2k47pIKJeJWCjWGT4c-Tg2jEGwwMzqa0O1L-ClWimt9v4nYyXuKQ-7Bo19wEMO09BtRzjdXzQyrYPvXnbil-a79OsGpF2KFU87G91AhvxtvSIEsfsHoxSuf0-CZ0HhffvDAqNY/s320/Xmas85_0003.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my first Christmas as a big sister. Check out that awesome boombox!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">One of those traditions was that my brother, Kyle, sister, Shannon, and I used to cut out snowflakes to decorate the large picture window in the living room of our parents' home. We would try to create the most intricate snowflake and were so happy to have them hanging up, they may not have been fancy, but we made them and when it really did snow, it looked magical as the light hit our magnified slowflakes. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBoK6n_EoMssrrjfaRdsyegEzXrNHsQ0WK4nfUvlqZkfdQatP8FqJ5leoo5dq4aDfcSTWrnyNj7fAEmTNjYVty1pj7hPho9ELeuQviNyeR_0WE4ZVYqbt7cn4ys1bN_ZX2wErTBdX4iorK/s1600/Xmas01_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBoK6n_EoMssrrjfaRdsyegEzXrNHsQ0WK4nfUvlqZkfdQatP8FqJ5leoo5dq4aDfcSTWrnyNj7fAEmTNjYVty1pj7hPho9ELeuQviNyeR_0WE4ZVYqbt7cn4ys1bN_ZX2wErTBdX4iorK/s320/Xmas01_0005.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, my eyes are closed, but other than that it's a picture of Christmas morning....and you can see our snowflakes hanging in the background!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">I always loved decorating our tree. My parents made us feel as if the decorating we did was just as important as the decorating they did. I love that it was always a family affair, although it usually ended up being my mom and us kids, because after becoming thoroughly disgusted with trying to find that one lightbulb that was causing the whole strand of lights problems, he would mumble about the ridiculousness of the situation and then retire to the family room to watch.....wait for it.....football. (Shocker!) I still have my favorite ornaments on my parents tree. My parents gave many of the ornaments from their tree to myself and my siblings to hang on our own trees now, but there are a few that are still on the tree at my mom & dad's house that I just love. I don't know what it is about them, but they make me smile. There's one that is a pink and white crocheted mailbox that is so cute--I just love it! Then there's the one made by my grandmother, Esther, who I will not have the chance to meet until I meet her in heaven. I love the intricacy of the beads and knowing that her hands made it. I can tell it was made with love, just as I can see from the lives of her four children that she poured love into all she did in her too-brief life her on earth. I love that the traditions of the tree have carried into my own home, as the Christmas music plays and I allow my boys to hang the ornaments wherever they choose. You want to put a candy cane on that branch that already has six ornaments? Sure, go ahead! Great job, sweetie! And somehow magically, those ornaments are spaced out the next morning.....must be those mischevious elves!</div><br />
I loved Christmas Eve. We would have an amazing meal, and then do the most important thing of the season. We would sit in front of the fire and read the Christmas story. We would say a prayer afterwards, and then we would each open one gift. A little precursor of the joy to come in the morning. Then Kyle and Shannon would always have a sleepover in my room and we would watch Home Alone and drink hot chocolate. I think of them every time I see the movie now, and I cannot let a Christmas season goes by without watching it. I remember waking up early, so, so early in the morning and begging our parents to get out of bed because SANTA CAME!!!! Even when I was in high school, I still remember feeling so excited to wake up on Christmas morning. I think I might have been too cool to act like it, so I probably pretended to have an attitude and be annoyed by my siblings waking up early, but inside I was doing cartwheels and singing "Joy To The World" at the top of my lungs. We would always open presents and then have a good breakfast together. It was magical.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7wtEteaE4Ov5a25YCSIY-a8pt3vg36v8pmNDOF_ZuwIELA74tqzrjx9pPMHU90q_9Z7CzqZ_Hfi-TBnmjB6ch9mVdq9bKI3qUXko55qvSDTeG11u4mdeOb_j6GJHTSD_JmVNYNl0cyvo/s1600/Xmas01_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7wtEteaE4Ov5a25YCSIY-a8pt3vg36v8pmNDOF_ZuwIELA74tqzrjx9pPMHU90q_9Z7CzqZ_Hfi-TBnmjB6ch9mVdq9bKI3qUXko55qvSDTeG11u4mdeOb_j6GJHTSD_JmVNYNl0cyvo/s320/Xmas01_0006.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dad used to dress up as Santa for the younger cousins. Have you been naughty or nice?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">The best thing about these traditions are that they are all focused on our single family unit. Although I love seeing my aunts, uncles, and cousins, these traditions were centered around our family. They may seem silly or trivial to an outsider, but as someone who lived it, these are memories that I wouldn't trade for the world. As much joy as I feel in my heart as I recount these traditions, it makes me so excited for Christmas with my own family. We have started traditions ourselves already, but I wonder what kind of traditions we will have in the years to come. I can only imagine how the two most special little boys I know will choose to make the most important day of the year even more special to me. Whatever it is, I know there will be smiles, laughter, love, and plenty of hot chocolate for us all.</div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-52146668399900078152011-11-27T15:01:00.000-06:002011-11-27T15:01:14.360-06:00A New Thanksgiving<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwG_guAERmKBAc-BI1ZrHBd0yV_e_JbAw037VSAESQdH6uN1i6CQqLszoidL9sLmAMIGlc_kgwB_-J8PLUfzw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> This year, we decided to do Thanksgiving in our own home, and it was completely different than any other holiday we've ever had, but it was so very nice and I loved every minute of it. I missed seeing my family, but we were able to have a great afternoon with Mimi, Papa, Gigi, and Poppi. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> In true type-A fashion, I was able to not stress at all, because I had already made a document with all my recipes I would use in the order I would use them, a to-do list with times, and a schedule of when everything had to be cooked. I know that may seem a little crazy to some people, but it makes my life so much easier! So, on Wednesday, we made pumpkin pie (which I forgot to take a picture of, but I can assure you was scrumptious nonetheless).... </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">and cranberry sauce....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73PKuQYLVoL2sa-6M3RPNxZEAV7_y8ckLte42dveQfBHCgAI1lXSjSu1RNXEFQfhykPAS8GsutBfVGfMiVJ0uEkr1cqrM0K-U_K5rfPEyZA4YJzTp-ImotRzgwSSONFPNGwZg23ZJSrKc/s1600/Holidays+043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73PKuQYLVoL2sa-6M3RPNxZEAV7_y8ckLte42dveQfBHCgAI1lXSjSu1RNXEFQfhykPAS8GsutBfVGfMiVJ0uEkr1cqrM0K-U_K5rfPEyZA4YJzTp-ImotRzgwSSONFPNGwZg23ZJSrKc/s320/Holidays+043.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> and sweet potatoes.....<img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_qgL0SH3cehmsPchQVvWl_Fj4Ef_zNmoYzbgbBc1CzLsHIwcmyGxHscHrA379WWqkMlGNqoHiHajqVEGzY1IidbZ5MXsr24eEZCXwUoFFpVZGyH_U6rnauWt8EwrbaBKNsh8ao_hJf4q/s320/Holidays+041.jpg" width="320" /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And then on Thanksgiving, while we half-heartedly watched the Macy's parade, </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We made stuffing...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> and green bean casserole...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7CjGgP2aCagYg3Z7FWXLGnB-5ivMTRAj2nurDLdSyBZLbjmMpqy-VSXm7ewihnD4JWOCcvW9utYwo-G27gkEbLeS2nfbFIETg5QfD2fPD_eiMqDQmErHgP1tev_nn3NxZjN7VWIO-F67/s1600/Holidays+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7CjGgP2aCagYg3Z7FWXLGnB-5ivMTRAj2nurDLdSyBZLbjmMpqy-VSXm7ewihnD4JWOCcvW9utYwo-G27gkEbLeS2nfbFIETg5QfD2fPD_eiMqDQmErHgP1tev_nn3NxZjN7VWIO-F67/s320/Holidays+042.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> and creamy corn...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB8Pq9OI2UTJKHjq17Ux8SwFHi9krcLmHMKa5UDScX5-ALu0Rgi_pButLtgL0aux0vczu3Hg0K8LFiO6hlY3078gkCYi0t9TxgjC9poouNsqwGpg6AFS7Xu499ZDFFkCbH0HFq-5ABOoA/s1600/Holidays+015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB8Pq9OI2UTJKHjq17Ux8SwFHi9krcLmHMKa5UDScX5-ALu0Rgi_pButLtgL0aux0vczu3Hg0K8LFiO6hlY3078gkCYi0t9TxgjC9poouNsqwGpg6AFS7Xu499ZDFFkCbH0HFq-5ABOoA/s320/Holidays+015.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">and rolls, and I heated up the turkey. I didn't have to fully cook it since I decided that I didn't want to chance my first Thanskgiving as host being a disaster with a failed attempt at turkey. So, I let Honey Baked Ham do the job, and it was delicious!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88JSoBzqsW5M5XdQy4GidCyRe9B3k35-igV_CgDnsYilX4gO96hryHwiCNmePO0S_4GuX59g0spZFbN8vasz6_CNbVml0WEbzWz2kx5FDB9I2folTj2YSRDjT2yPyrlr9BpEm2mdLSCv_/s1600/Holidays+040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88JSoBzqsW5M5XdQy4GidCyRe9B3k35-igV_CgDnsYilX4gO96hryHwiCNmePO0S_4GuX59g0spZFbN8vasz6_CNbVml0WEbzWz2kx5FDB9I2folTj2YSRDjT2yPyrlr9BpEm2mdLSCv_/s320/Holidays+040.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Since Brennon has learned how to write so well already, he wanted to write placecards or "nametags" for everyone. Although I helped him spell, he wrote them completely on his own. He also asked me to help him figure out how to spell a message on the fridge with magnets. My sweet boy! I pray he keeps his tender heart and always wants to do special things for the people he loves.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghoKV7QcQ_Qm5NiVOtoU_WvcQp1YgC-0rJaZB6eh-13Wru5ePsqLcyfrlmlG5MI8Lc6Ru0IZ9ae5j2-qC8FSuyU8ck8LUhRqqrSaNOz1OM5rKzMwyUtQbpgkQo_LbQBfzIXZrjRR3LoLQ2/s1600/Holidays+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghoKV7QcQ_Qm5NiVOtoU_WvcQp1YgC-0rJaZB6eh-13Wru5ePsqLcyfrlmlG5MI8Lc6Ru0IZ9ae5j2-qC8FSuyU8ck8LUhRqqrSaNOz1OM5rKzMwyUtQbpgkQo_LbQBfzIXZrjRR3LoLQ2/s320/Holidays+016.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_0ddGjmFhPKVJ-WZAAvEqqhlwZbhGRQV1Se_XZE98mXVaGdNeggAhGUYu0dYs3zn1qtGAuO8sDKnflmtX6KS7ILqW5vzndqo5UFPizQARvLriuBfv8Rc_EWhqd1clTKk7Ddcw82pQYxK/s1600/Holidays+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_0ddGjmFhPKVJ-WZAAvEqqhlwZbhGRQV1Se_XZE98mXVaGdNeggAhGUYu0dYs3zn1qtGAuO8sDKnflmtX6KS7ILqW5vzndqo5UFPizQARvLriuBfv8Rc_EWhqd1clTKk7Ddcw82pQYxK/s320/Holidays+003.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMCMfAfuG39F_TCvB24cAi5pMutDpPSPMjNHVDNJMcgzOCt5hRD1Bmq8oRNwyd3IpLFdrSrTIiNfU6iYHexuxfgc6ufES7kBsNCZKg4mHx5WkhcuaZIExyUAO34CBde3aEaKKqwJVWYuV/s1600/Holidays+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMCMfAfuG39F_TCvB24cAi5pMutDpPSPMjNHVDNJMcgzOCt5hRD1Bmq8oRNwyd3IpLFdrSrTIiNfU6iYHexuxfgc6ufES7kBsNCZKg4mHx5WkhcuaZIExyUAO34CBde3aEaKKqwJVWYuV/s320/Holidays+009.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAT5qONKWqym0L6hTjB0DeGwKeilRot2WeyfPGxREiwyAgsec8FZo-u_XUh_eCdElIqT8KwcAhDH_3pcHuIrO0aWIHc-nADD-VVfYi0-eS0zpG8s5fkxMLwRO8TJ1Vll5u46fvS02YEse/s1600/Holidays+037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAT5qONKWqym0L6hTjB0DeGwKeilRot2WeyfPGxREiwyAgsec8FZo-u_XUh_eCdElIqT8KwcAhDH_3pcHuIrO0aWIHc-nADD-VVfYi0-eS0zpG8s5fkxMLwRO8TJ1Vll5u46fvS02YEse/s320/Holidays+037.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> After stuffing ourselves silly and then going back for seconds, we talked and talked, Brennon tried to teach Pop to play Wii Lego Batman, and enjoyed relaxing in our own home with family, coffee, and entertainment courtesy of two very rambunctious little fellas. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji710wagkibksNfN6tYHh88Oy0e8T2g1liEEuBdOb9g57XfssKYxY4wzYmWiCeJMlRDRI28-anJpRnGyPfgzPFWRbt3WZGv8VXlvZog1Q3RIjZN_uB2hGPa-p4s5pZ3cUOxnBRbpEPnsag/s1600/Holidays+045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji710wagkibksNfN6tYHh88Oy0e8T2g1liEEuBdOb9g57XfssKYxY4wzYmWiCeJMlRDRI28-anJpRnGyPfgzPFWRbt3WZGv8VXlvZog1Q3RIjZN_uB2hGPa-p4s5pZ3cUOxnBRbpEPnsag/s320/Holidays+045.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> I was so thankful for a perfect Thanksgiving and for being able to host my in-laws and grandparent in-laws. A lot has changed in the last few years for our family. We've gone through a lot, sometimes more than it seems we could handle. Maybe because of all this, it was even more special to be together on this day where we remember all the blessings that God has brought into our lives. It was a new kind of Thanksgiving, a new kind of normal, but it made me even more thankful that we are able create new traditions and enjoy them just as much as anything else we've done in the past. It gives me hope for more than just this day, but for every day in our new normal world.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-EBZ600iFRW60m4lGyoLGKTK-FSVaUjJcf16V7WiXJbGZDsSoNFBk-bcHyPfay4rGxb8jKaiPXQ1xclr18wEiQnXF-oMVkekPDJLuL_D4ieGxlbSUXjkDEw29norXMR3aKeJByXlz8cd5/s1600/Holidays+050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-EBZ600iFRW60m4lGyoLGKTK-FSVaUjJcf16V7WiXJbGZDsSoNFBk-bcHyPfay4rGxb8jKaiPXQ1xclr18wEiQnXF-oMVkekPDJLuL_D4ieGxlbSUXjkDEw29norXMR3aKeJByXlz8cd5/s400/Holidays+050.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-15880792516571072862011-11-22T21:16:00.000-06:002011-11-22T21:16:32.736-06:00My Child As a FriendThere comes a time in the life of every mom when you see your child as a friend for the first time. I'm not talking about him being a friend to me, although I'm sure that time will come as well, but as a friend to his friends. Sure I've seen him be a great friend to his brother or play with his cousins, but it's different when he has a friend who he has chosen to be friends with. <br />
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When Brennon started pre-k, I was so excited to find out that he was in the same class as a little girl we knew named Serenity. I want Brennon to make decisions on his own, so while I gently nudged him towards her on the first day, I let him figure out on his own if she was somebody that he would want to be friends with. And he did! I would love to hear him recount his fun times at school, and he always made sure to include Serenity in his list of people he played with...sometimes she would make up the whole list. So it really shouldn't have surprised me when he came home one day and told me that he had a girlfriend. Oh my! I was so not ready for that!!! I just have to laugh it off and say that I'm glad she's a girl and she's your friend. :-) Kind of like when I was in college and Ryan and I were dating, it took my mom almost a year to not introduce him as my "friend". In fact, by the time she finally started calling him my boyfriend, we were practically engaged. Ok, so that was nothing like when I was in college, but it made me think of that. Maybe someday when he really does have a girlfriend, I will be able to accept it at that time. Hope so...as long as it doesn't happen until he's 30.<br />
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In the meantime, I love it. We went to Bartlesville on Sunday with Serenity and her mom, Jenifer (who I love and I'm so happy we've become friends!) It was so cute to see the way that they talked to each other in the car, played together, gave each other attention and cared for each other. I loved seeing how kind he was and how much he so enjoyed being with his friend all day long. He couldn't stop talking about his day with Serenity that night at bedtime, and I am so proud of the way that he has become a friend. He's off to a good start!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbJHYdtjdce3n68gNHMuLGtTImDrAJq4djOO-9wIuCJU8tLO7B0FIMXOnsqGpfeQZj3tCZmkJinJQZNYcPCxScWxXtJ-gSN55iOPTYdAr5bSznKZTUkZ6OWILK1FU4S-O6Y1IXv-P4uhl/s1600/Fall+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbJHYdtjdce3n68gNHMuLGtTImDrAJq4djOO-9wIuCJU8tLO7B0FIMXOnsqGpfeQZj3tCZmkJinJQZNYcPCxScWxXtJ-gSN55iOPTYdAr5bSznKZTUkZ6OWILK1FU4S-O6Y1IXv-P4uhl/s320/Fall+033.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbYmKZeh53_PUIqL7Jz1-k3aY75Y4FrOcW6_Msn8A32nqj12So6Nv3ty_CUM3TLpYHTWVyaRkKjzT0SvtLLyEI52mcl-OlVHtCTWvSUhmb3yLb0_zspnkUTuQDNxNXRYRjX8y_x4tEK4E/s1600/Fall+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbYmKZeh53_PUIqL7Jz1-k3aY75Y4FrOcW6_Msn8A32nqj12So6Nv3ty_CUM3TLpYHTWVyaRkKjzT0SvtLLyEI52mcl-OlVHtCTWvSUhmb3yLb0_zspnkUTuQDNxNXRYRjX8y_x4tEK4E/s320/Fall+027.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-82947724490580895192011-11-14T21:17:00.000-06:002011-11-14T21:17:14.729-06:00The Biggest Decision....It started like any ordinary day. I didn't know as I woke up and made some "egg-in-the-holes" and cinnamon rolls that my heart would soon melt into a lump of goo in only a way that one of my sons could do. Our conversation started because I was looking at my cousin, Kristi's. new pictures on facebook. These were pictures that any mom would be proud of, as they were showing her son and daughter being baptized yesterday. Brennon wanted to know what they were doing, because from his point of view, it looked like they were just swimming. So, we started talking about why his cousins, Liv and Ty, chose to be baptized. The conversation was so simple, and I felt like truly it was God giving me the words to speak to him, as it really is hard to put all your own beliefs combined with a college level theological "worldview" into four-year-old terms. In the midst of our tender conversation over quesadillas, I told my Brennon that he could ask Jesus to live in his heart. Since our conversation had sparked out of an interest in baptism, he looked completely conflicted as he said with complete honesty, "Do I have to be dunked in water?" He makes me laugh so much! <br />
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I explained to him the difference in salvation and baptism, and after our lunch we sat together in the living room and I led him in a prayer that gave him a clear understanding of what it meant and knowing that it was an important decision. I was so, so happy that I got to experience this with him, and that I was able to lead him in this way. Brennon was so excited that he then called my mom and told her his "good news". He was so happy to hear how excited Gramma was that he then asked to call his Poppie and Gigi and Mimi and Papa. He told them, and he was a little more proud each time. I thought that I had cried all I could by the time he told my mom the story, but each time he recounted it, I cried even more. I am so happy that my tender-hearted little guy took this seriously and understood that this decision meant more than just repeating words. I have to admit that I was proud of myself too. Every mom has a list of things that they want to be in their child's eyes, and godly is at the top of mine. I fall short of that more than I care to admit, but that is a whole new lesson that I get to teach my little boy, because God's grace is what will allow me to be a godly mom. Even more so, this grace will allow me to experience more and more events such as this, the truly important ones, the ones that are completely life-shaping. Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-91307808605982559922011-11-08T22:57:00.001-06:002011-11-08T22:59:14.986-06:00Well, It's About Time....<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yes, I'm still alive! I have several reasons that I haven't been blogging, first of which is that I hadn't realized how little free time I would have for blogging once school started back up. I also very much am in need of a new computer, so it's hard to make myself type on something that frustrates me. Last of all, the last few months have been less than easy, and I didn't create this blog to be one of those girls who just constantly vents for the sake of commiserating in misery. However, despite the fact that craziness ensues, I also have had a lot of joys in the last few months. My Brennon started preschool, and every single day I amazed at how much he has learned. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW07tl2QEC6JNihasEKfBIDXD-w_R_1jn-hAejhAHffwfmf0wpUQzdOUWWVMx1LwaTWOM9YbeOzNhcbhMPXwZ4n7WINvF8S0qcJ3or2J5xaycAmDg8VNprX_g704yET7O9_1Ex4AseZk-i/s1600/Back+to+school+094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW07tl2QEC6JNihasEKfBIDXD-w_R_1jn-hAejhAHffwfmf0wpUQzdOUWWVMx1LwaTWOM9YbeOzNhcbhMPXwZ4n7WINvF8S0qcJ3or2J5xaycAmDg8VNprX_g704yET7O9_1Ex4AseZk-i/s400/Back+to+school+094.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have always known that he was a smartie, but he is so inquisitive that I love our conversations about everything from the north star to title pages. I LOVED the first time that I had to sit in the pick-up line at school waiting for my boy to come out. I felt like I was growing up myself. I also have to note that I don't know if I have ever smiled as much as I did watching Brennon at school when I got to observe and help out on party day. It was so much fun!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We have also had some great family time, whether as far away as Branson and "Silba Dolla City" or just in our own area with day trips. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We went to Silver Dollar City with Gramma, Auntie Shannie, Uncle Kyle, and cousin Zoe. The boys LOVED it! Of course, now with the Christmas commercials starting, they keep saying that we need to go back. This was our first time to take our kiddos, and let me just say that I cannot believe how often I went there as a kid. It is so much harder when you have kids of your own! I loved it, and we will be going much more often as the kids get older, but I was E-X-H-A-U-S-T-E-D! Actually, I can't even think of the right word for it, because exhausted doesn't even begin to cover it. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTJCgB5P9ZhO8iIMM6lRBn5PLbE9u7JkQj9bg8l4xdHP-vNWUETfKDwpTrBS-_CLFUf07qxY1Qeasz_DZMZB311T1feDGrrqkTrWEhrdIm0rYxKx-4UP6K8dntD8ZG7WOxzmA8HaDoFuJ/s1600/FamilySummer+220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTJCgB5P9ZhO8iIMM6lRBn5PLbE9u7JkQj9bg8l4xdHP-vNWUETfKDwpTrBS-_CLFUf07qxY1Qeasz_DZMZB311T1feDGrrqkTrWEhrdIm0rYxKx-4UP6K8dntD8ZG7WOxzmA8HaDoFuJ/s400/FamilySummer+220.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">To get out and about on the weekend, we spent one Saturday not too far from home, going to see Big Brutus. Let me tell you, I have never felt so much like a mother of boys as on this day. Big Brutus is basically a giant electric shovel out in the middle of nowhere that was left where it was used after they stopped using it in the 70s. It was definitely cool, because it was gigantic, but you would have thought that we took the boys to the Taj Mahal the way that they were oohing and aahing at the thing. In true form, I did end up with a giant bruise on my leg from crawling through one of the openings several stories up. Who would expect any less? </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXA5y_y-JDAAXLa_m58V4l4ruVPlEaJiJ8sNNprMRJhO0inKQPD2fjBjWIunIb3r-abjaAekbo5YL0HwUNYFWZNLqyyEnMYRwAev3Fyd5PcX2mSexNvzGJrCK2SaOn1-Da2fOuBBwg5BR/s1600/Back+to+school+015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXA5y_y-JDAAXLa_m58V4l4ruVPlEaJiJ8sNNprMRJhO0inKQPD2fjBjWIunIb3r-abjaAekbo5YL0HwUNYFWZNLqyyEnMYRwAev3Fyd5PcX2mSexNvzGJrCK2SaOn1-Da2fOuBBwg5BR/s400/Back+to+school+015.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We also took our annual trip to the pumpkin patch, which gets more and more fun every year. That isn't because they add things like the giant corn bin for the boys to play in or that they were finally interested in doing the corn maze, but because of the pure joy and excitement that seems to grow every year. Every year, I think that the boys could not have more fun at the pumpkin patch than they did the year before, but somehow they do. We really had to work hard to pick up pumpkin this year, because it was the first time that everyone had an opinion.....I don't know if I'm ready for that stage yet!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyAIMh54hAx1RyxTHF7B5kt_ZlgTBQWgt7gqIK21nA8Q8HkGEK_x2r7clWBQw5PfQzjhYAig_oDEQvvvI2lc51sn7S0mCfX5yo78qtkQmbKqhyOyyeJ7CCGdvGSToXUEMKiPF2X7NMP4Q/s1600/Class+photos+082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyAIMh54hAx1RyxTHF7B5kt_ZlgTBQWgt7gqIK21nA8Q8HkGEK_x2r7clWBQw5PfQzjhYAig_oDEQvvvI2lc51sn7S0mCfX5yo78qtkQmbKqhyOyyeJ7CCGdvGSToXUEMKiPF2X7NMP4Q/s320/Class+photos+082.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaVapjCohnvvnshf6fPkfwnvqKG5cGian5Mn7vjRTDsS6aAQAsxHIhRiPFjoCTmg6lbw-fH4lBiV7lvf0i5aH69ZUGDx8Y876MEzXa8DXclf8pRorexOZBfMfmvMsUwjQ-S7gPoyu4Eox/s1600/Class+photos+125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaVapjCohnvvnshf6fPkfwnvqKG5cGian5Mn7vjRTDsS6aAQAsxHIhRiPFjoCTmg6lbw-fH4lBiV7lvf0i5aH69ZUGDx8Y876MEzXa8DXclf8pRorexOZBfMfmvMsUwjQ-S7gPoyu4Eox/s320/Class+photos+125.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33eUfqBg_2-oKC-ycpclW0AH0MfxRAV70O87VxMx3mt-WsyW2ChLu7mKXZ4W9ftTipAMUjKWo_qKCkIGQEuTmHuj8ZCSNoRLXPICba6PLI6RWQpko082_S6dR1SlTpsMYCZaumbsIeyOh/s1600/Class+photos+134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33eUfqBg_2-oKC-ycpclW0AH0MfxRAV70O87VxMx3mt-WsyW2ChLu7mKXZ4W9ftTipAMUjKWo_qKCkIGQEuTmHuj8ZCSNoRLXPICba6PLI6RWQpko082_S6dR1SlTpsMYCZaumbsIeyOh/s320/Class+photos+134.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhmHtXj9rEqwjTvS5jvf2g97TXs4x9LmquXzvXsH6LvrhD8JJo1LTthzWRBa62pguE_bY4vV1NChsAf8yhcQndLBx6HExEfwpWV5gZ1etG2sPOUAVnBvDKbcXhiyHtp3lM1tH4uzTsf77/s1600/Class+photos+137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhmHtXj9rEqwjTvS5jvf2g97TXs4x9LmquXzvXsH6LvrhD8JJo1LTthzWRBa62pguE_bY4vV1NChsAf8yhcQndLBx6HExEfwpWV5gZ1etG2sPOUAVnBvDKbcXhiyHtp3lM1tH4uzTsf77/s320/Class+photos+137.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our last major event of the last few months was, of course, Halloween. Brennon and Gavin were Captain Hook and Mr. Smee, and I must say that they were quite cute in their costumes! I slaved away with my novice sewing skills to make Brennon's costume, but was able to throw Gavin's costume together pretty easily. It may be due to my sewing, or maybe just because Gavin was so stinkin' cute in that Smee costume, but he was the one that ended up winning 3rd prize in our local downtown costume contest! He won an art set, which he willingly shares with Brennon, since Brennon said, "Gavin couldn't have really won without me, since we are a pair". They are so funny! We had a lot of fun trick-or-treating and going to Neewollah. We got way too much candy, and we are finally getting over the fact that Halloween won't come again for a whole "nother" year. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi-2C3bJ8qh7itU_l-vgMMk505ugCWcVUp65uxJOFgZ4NBwcwbA2Se2nfcphQJ1YwSJDaon4okWbERQjjUMqPEMzA1naW1jUj9xLZDt7kd6LVTivp2WFwVwmw7vQf678RHXALkc1HpKqBS/s1600/Fall+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi-2C3bJ8qh7itU_l-vgMMk505ugCWcVUp65uxJOFgZ4NBwcwbA2Se2nfcphQJ1YwSJDaon4okWbERQjjUMqPEMzA1naW1jUj9xLZDt7kd6LVTivp2WFwVwmw7vQf678RHXALkc1HpKqBS/s400/Fall+006.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My cute little pirate crew!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie5all43UkiGi-iiuFNxzNSItpxmF4A0ynRUQPjlcjN8T0ofNV5-UNTWVaIvwpfqmKCYNgwSk0stePL9oWXDtKzX6D3hciaBKFgDrq4eMBhylwpt37by-B8lTDzh9jOBP9BJqWOXVjO0rx/s1600/Fall+063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie5all43UkiGi-iiuFNxzNSItpxmF4A0ynRUQPjlcjN8T0ofNV5-UNTWVaIvwpfqmKCYNgwSk0stePL9oWXDtKzX6D3hciaBKFgDrq4eMBhylwpt37by-B8lTDzh9jOBP9BJqWOXVjO0rx/s400/Fall+063.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mommy and her boys!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-Sb0C0GhhwG-zdT3J7-06JjJukQkmQV8HUswGompRFPOtJVSfl2G83KW2NxyhAQdJZau3BYXqczI-4XIJyarRorDZdbtdM26JD60VRp3U7l4tC7XtafStW2ZkiL9fFYhQ7LGuIShNeqb/s1600/Fall+082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-Sb0C0GhhwG-zdT3J7-06JjJukQkmQV8HUswGompRFPOtJVSfl2G83KW2NxyhAQdJZau3BYXqczI-4XIJyarRorDZdbtdM26JD60VRp3U7l4tC7XtafStW2ZkiL9fFYhQ7LGuIShNeqb/s320/Fall+082.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I love this picture of Poppo and the boys at Neewollah</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Despite all these fun places and events, one of the best things of the past few months has been becoming a "soccer mom". Soccer at age 4 is many things, but a true version of the sport, it is not. It was so funny to see the kids act like magnets to that ball. Brennon finally scored a goal on our last game of the season, and he did awesome! He also created a new running style just for games called "the helicopter". It's hilarious to watch, as he runs down the field swinging his arm in circular motions. Well, I was always told I had a great imagination, so I guess he comes by it naturally.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-8zqr9NbHUNqku1fjn7oYZzhm7ELA-s09_3S-Vhq2E6W6lVzhZmxcbhAYHpC0TliEhsHXdTQe-QdoMOLExkzr-ri6LwQ4Bowev-G0cXlb0EZu6priaffOhuBoiHE0N1JuB9H0eL4LBSO/s1600/P1040536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-8zqr9NbHUNqku1fjn7oYZzhm7ELA-s09_3S-Vhq2E6W6lVzhZmxcbhAYHpC0TliEhsHXdTQe-QdoMOLExkzr-ri6LwQ4Bowev-G0cXlb0EZu6priaffOhuBoiHE0N1JuB9H0eL4LBSO/s320/P1040536.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacemU_8cqVUSl2VrPtksO2S6uQ9vBNwWcioHxYgy7tUQ1CNG6qbgJeYZZwDuz3QQqjZYBTlegTNgjHGGUQLlGdkiVgrHmU3qn8ezGRFZnXuJJncQ_cxvkg4wQy_QgTwvyNZ6_KM8hfvsA/s1600/Class+photos+065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacemU_8cqVUSl2VrPtksO2S6uQ9vBNwWcioHxYgy7tUQ1CNG6qbgJeYZZwDuz3QQqjZYBTlegTNgjHGGUQLlGdkiVgrHmU3qn8ezGRFZnXuJJncQ_cxvkg4wQy_QgTwvyNZ6_KM8hfvsA/s320/Class+photos+065.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">That should about catch me up. I apologize for the novel here, but now that I'm caught up, I can do better about blogging on a much more regular basis. I feel like sometimes I have so much to write about that I can't decide what to say, then I just end up not writing at all. Well, my Thanksgiving resolution is to be a better blogger. I know that's not a real thing, but it is for me. Well, now it is, anyway. You'll see. You can be thankful for my awesome words gracing your screen more often, or that maybe you'll see I'm just as scattered as anyone else, but I'm doing the best I can to be a mom. Sometimes I feel victorious, sometimes I fall on my face, but by the grace of God, I can get up and start again. I remember to learn along this journey as much as I can, because I will be a better teacher to my kids if I am learning along the way. The thing I have learned most recently is that no matter where you go, sometimes you make the best memories by just being....no matter where you are.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1yvhCwVrcXkuUlsjzpKsLTCGu8AhQ5noguOQjustAmKLeeCBohYd2dlOSz841SQOARg3utaBGHRTjdrgXMufZhg0qh4mpBGvrOkIeSN5qCYUxPIEdw-g0OI7przvk_emq9UnkSyEprY5D/s1600/Fall+108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1yvhCwVrcXkuUlsjzpKsLTCGu8AhQ5noguOQjustAmKLeeCBohYd2dlOSz841SQOARg3utaBGHRTjdrgXMufZhg0qh4mpBGvrOkIeSN5qCYUxPIEdw-g0OI7przvk_emq9UnkSyEprY5D/s320/Fall+108.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmornLAHwMrkiWA-od6rHkANIUMP5samds9_2fb7JxwLlynnE-hThCHI9AnNPtRJ1f9ImDsqc_fN1OTCOtSBHjbYGJ53EnXtJkHrQPCRux8puyo854FcZD7Fof9cqj61_qMvVnNBTiEcq/s1600/Fall+061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmornLAHwMrkiWA-od6rHkANIUMP5samds9_2fb7JxwLlynnE-hThCHI9AnNPtRJ1f9ImDsqc_fN1OTCOtSBHjbYGJ53EnXtJkHrQPCRux8puyo854FcZD7Fof9cqj61_qMvVnNBTiEcq/s400/Fall+061.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtURbQvtcPbh1nFtUhwzhZokHGGIdw5YvvK8P3urSMafjeNvWCppVDx7QcdFOtieLImgOGFXn_qRgDNJM2Ihjju1jYPjJTwXSMH8cl9UUzzISDPNVCOSfAMADBL9-o4nLP-WNM3gO_cEz/s1600/Fall+101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtURbQvtcPbh1nFtUhwzhZokHGGIdw5YvvK8P3urSMafjeNvWCppVDx7QcdFOtieLImgOGFXn_qRgDNJM2Ihjju1jYPjJTwXSMH8cl9UUzzISDPNVCOSfAMADBL9-o4nLP-WNM3gO_cEz/s320/Fall+101.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-54487326319239015252011-08-25T19:39:00.001-05:002011-08-25T19:41:24.761-05:00Helicopter Closing In!I feel like I need to clarify something up front here....I am not a helicopter mom, but I am always close enough that I know if something went seriously wrong, I could swoop in if needed. I was better at hovering when I was a SAHM with Brennon, but now I am much better at stepping back, allowing my boys to try to solve most problems on their own, and jumping in to play with them for short intervals. Ok, so now that you know that, let me tell you about something that has been on my mind pretty much non-stop for the past 24 hours. <br />
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Yesterday after school, the boys and I went swimming at my friend Leslie's house after school. It was sweltering outside again, and it wasn't worth even being outside without being in the pool, so it was a perfect day to relax in the pool (especially after Leslie and I--and the rest of the second grade teachers--were testing kids all day at school). We had spent pretty much all summer in the pool at either Leslie's house, the water park, my Aunt Nancy's house, or Mimi & Pop's house...oh, and in our little backyard pool too, of course. At the beginning of the summer, I had to spend most of an afternoon coaxing the boys into the pool. They just wanted to hang out on the stairs or "on dry land". Finally, they were both loving being in the water and becoming little fishes who were becoming quite happy to be in the water. I love that, because now they wanted to jump off the side or even the diving board and have me catch them or they'd want to swim around the pool hanging on to me or sometimes they just wanted to throw things in and have me dive after them. Anyway, we were really having fun swimming. Each time we went swimming, I became a little more comfortable with them being around the water myself and I didn't worry so much about them. They knew their limits and I trusted that they would pay attention to them. <br />
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Back to yesterday, I was taking times swimming the boys around the pool and I had just set Brennon up on the side. I took off my sunglasses and set them on the side of the pool, and then I was swimming back and forth across the shallow end while the boys played on the side of the pool. I had just come up from going under to get my hair wet and cool myself off in the 105 degree heat, when I hear a splash. I look over and Gavin is under the water. I probably was moving close to the speed of light to swim to him, but it felt like the entire world was moving in slow motion. I have never felt such sheer terror in my heart as I saw the top of his head barely peeking out of the top of the water. I know that he could not have been under the water for more than 2 full seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. <br />
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He was fine, just scared, but I know that he couldn't have been more scared than I was. It was awful. I hugged him and squeezed him and loved him a little more. I cannot imagine what could have happened so quickly if I hadn't been right there, paying better attention, hovering closely by. So, my helicopter might be a little closer at the pool next time, but more than anything I have thought about my boys nonstop since then. Before bed, I said extra thanks for them, first thing this morning, I gave thanks for them being safe, healthy boys, and throughout the day I couldn't wait to see them. I'm not going to become a crazy worrying, controlling mom. That's not me, but I may just move my helicopter's perimeter a bit closer. <br />
<br />
Today, my friend Leslie said she was impressed with how calm I was and how well I handled it, and I thought to myself, "SERIOUSLY, I was a mess!" So, hug your kids and remember tonight how much you have to be thankful for, because I now understand how quickly something could change. Thank God it didn't. Or maybe it did, just not in any way that you could see or that would change my Gavy....instead it changed me and made me realize that no matter how tired I am at the end of the day, I have so much to be thankful for. Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-27605642832657325582011-08-10T22:06:00.000-05:002011-08-10T22:06:23.388-05:00I'm a Foodie, You're a Foodie....<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I admit it. I love good food. I mean really excellent, beautiful, and sometimes even pretentious food. Is there anything better than a gorgeous plate that is filled with not just food, but someone's delicious artistic expression? I think not! Luckily, I have a few friends that are also foodies, so I get some excellent recommendations for where to eat and what. They have great taste in food, and so do I! (By the way, if I give you a recommendation for food, you can trust that it's worth checking out...my standards are high!) So this past weekend when we were in Kansas City, we took a recommendation of a friend and fellow foodie and tried a gelato place in Park Place in Overland Park. This was A-MAZ-ING! I mean seriously, I cannot tell you how awesome it was! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OwU0HVAve1WWjDsTxlrxqPtZWvMQ7FAeq6KcQGCI2Zzth7pObtnON5VeZFyi6DKeUoqrSMfl_9EAQXnNXFLons6sThlmtCF03iUkvkRZoKGsXSLILEAcABd3Y4wLnU96ndROH4o3p1Ka/s1600/FamilySummer+214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OwU0HVAve1WWjDsTxlrxqPtZWvMQ7FAeq6KcQGCI2Zzth7pObtnON5VeZFyi6DKeUoqrSMfl_9EAQXnNXFLons6sThlmtCF03iUkvkRZoKGsXSLILEAcABd3Y4wLnU96ndROH4o3p1Ka/s320/FamilySummer+214.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There were so many flavors, the shop was so quaint, and the people working there were so nice, but really the important thing was that the gelato was unbelievably delicious! It was creamy and light and sooo good. However, the thing I loved the best was that I realized that Ryan and I have passed on our foodie tendencies to our sons. I'll show you what I mean....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79sUPOkW68XyZglXQhBkUL1a_UO78xp8LE0zqVJQNXtwR-N4ab8zPK_X-hMd11wMEmUerZeb53QzZCNPVwhAj5BiSKsw75Y4ANONcZ7dgPIle-XXixHDe1k0hYCj8DmyZKZrt2RqeMTnH/s1600/FamilySummer+201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79sUPOkW68XyZglXQhBkUL1a_UO78xp8LE0zqVJQNXtwR-N4ab8zPK_X-hMd11wMEmUerZeb53QzZCNPVwhAj5BiSKsw75Y4ANONcZ7dgPIle-XXixHDe1k0hYCj8DmyZKZrt2RqeMTnH/s320/FamilySummer+201.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Look how excited Gavin is before he even starts eating. He is smiling, not because he's tasted the yumminess of his mint chocolate gelato, but because of the sheer anticipation of the first scrumptious bite. Now, Brennon has just taken his first bite, and it may not look like much, but just a moment later...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpwwGwvn4idEDtaY4NUTr0zl0q3GQy5vdFDGsgKWc2unbrfo0VGPi1VZxaVBSYVTJmO8flRmKzrq3ZuUJK5ZRujK_bljQfJnxbqLY_HSxr381FNaz9K3lSRiMpjONcvh8Sme-Nxzb2Fql/s1600/FamilySummer+203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpwwGwvn4idEDtaY4NUTr0zl0q3GQy5vdFDGsgKWc2unbrfo0VGPi1VZxaVBSYVTJmO8flRmKzrq3ZuUJK5ZRujK_bljQfJnxbqLY_HSxr381FNaz9K3lSRiMpjONcvh8Sme-Nxzb2Fql/s320/FamilySummer+203.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Pure bliss....ahhh.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPVgXMlhgNCLVCjUW8mO4a5bjnNB0trspSKQjqgSsBhuTHrLq_mLwEkEg3jOs_5G5Wxv87pZ-acx1XfbYY2rep1Oqh7FKbaD-VLtStbspqY77Y-joEDNkUfpT6laHe1_cqgkE534aOiqL/s1600/FamilySummer+206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPVgXMlhgNCLVCjUW8mO4a5bjnNB0trspSKQjqgSsBhuTHrLq_mLwEkEg3jOs_5G5Wxv87pZ-acx1XfbYY2rep1Oqh7FKbaD-VLtStbspqY77Y-joEDNkUfpT6laHe1_cqgkE534aOiqL/s320/FamilySummer+206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Sea salted caramel......omg.....<br />
I should have gotten a picture of Ryan's banana chocolate chunk, but I couldn't stop concentrating on my own long enough to do that.....and then it was gone by the time I thought of it, which by the way wasn't that long.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGqQNpHDXXg1QC2ZPrLcjx8n8curxrzqnWYMIu5tvecwcy2ZcHidYZvxd8DoD8UF6-NqBFgkfdWNwhWSSrkHS0SkxFW8D7OVrYsaBiOYSjVCJi2YPSUpTKX-U4bPvdr8hoSXYQzo4JrUx/s1600/FamilySummer+210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGqQNpHDXXg1QC2ZPrLcjx8n8curxrzqnWYMIu5tvecwcy2ZcHidYZvxd8DoD8UF6-NqBFgkfdWNwhWSSrkHS0SkxFW8D7OVrYsaBiOYSjVCJi2YPSUpTKX-U4bPvdr8hoSXYQzo4JrUx/s320/FamilySummer+210.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This gelato made me so excited that I decided to do a super creepy stepfordish smile...<br />
I scared you a little bit didn't I? <br />
Ok, here's some more enjoyment, less creepiness...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaXFzLTqvgGreQeUuZSBMuyeJNCb1EIQMSJ84BUzWsx3Dci2bIk0Ppt21TQwsIQm1w4p0DxqLYh3ZAgT1_kp8WNiC2JWu-vZQbgWdO5eqwvXVL6u4OpAPEdbMUaGCaGMF6T493C8q15G2/s1600/FamilySummer+208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaXFzLTqvgGreQeUuZSBMuyeJNCb1EIQMSJ84BUzWsx3Dci2bIk0Ppt21TQwsIQm1w4p0DxqLYh3ZAgT1_kp8WNiC2JWu-vZQbgWdO5eqwvXVL6u4OpAPEdbMUaGCaGMF6T493C8q15G2/s320/FamilySummer+208.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Brennon couldn't even stop eating long enough to give me a smile...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisr6fRnMo-XngNrerKDBLwX3uNH9v1cNp7CLbPbUWLyaGDz8rwbHTqWyFkbm1v_ivUK0PgQB6ZRXNVGDPecdskAzdHK_cVfnRBi57cg7EzbKSLYJw793HtsosoWuI4cmf97qtt6TFrl7XD/s1600/FamilySummer+204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisr6fRnMo-XngNrerKDBLwX3uNH9v1cNp7CLbPbUWLyaGDz8rwbHTqWyFkbm1v_ivUK0PgQB6ZRXNVGDPecdskAzdHK_cVfnRBi57cg7EzbKSLYJw793HtsosoWuI4cmf97qtt6TFrl7XD/s320/FamilySummer+204.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Gavy will always give me a "cheese", but I did hurry, because I knew he wasn't going to last long with that much gelato still in his cup...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuJtZOqL7FNb2iflbxM28SfP903yQBJPt9nuAe-CFN_qTN84bE3RFMgwldAYssIhJYXVakMO6_ckRatKvv0VgXU6-hiHa3RN6D0gdkXN9dduG52bjC4EX5BNDezPS7XVZ-OzQUwZeR8MC/s1600/FamilySummer+207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuJtZOqL7FNb2iflbxM28SfP903yQBJPt9nuAe-CFN_qTN84bE3RFMgwldAYssIhJYXVakMO6_ckRatKvv0VgXU6-hiHa3RN6D0gdkXN9dduG52bjC4EX5BNDezPS7XVZ-OzQUwZeR8MC/s320/FamilySummer+207.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Right back to it. Do you know what else I love? Even in this tiny little kiddie size, they can fit several flavors. So, Gavin got half mint chocolate (has to be just like his brother) and half raspberry cheesecake, because, well, he's a boy after his mama's heart.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7htNn6KJu88FfW33lckjaLPsR4utT7HJJMcsgx2lI_kw-Je2YiTWCtyoO9Qc7qi1J7fUfUKlR83cCArB0K7jQ0kJziPalG7LQz96TbhyphenhyphenzkeFv2dfX2cDNz34-X5t-RDWbmpcdCrbIYi4/s1600/FamilySummer+213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7htNn6KJu88FfW33lckjaLPsR4utT7HJJMcsgx2lI_kw-Je2YiTWCtyoO9Qc7qi1J7fUfUKlR83cCArB0K7jQ0kJziPalG7LQz96TbhyphenhyphenzkeFv2dfX2cDNz34-X5t-RDWbmpcdCrbIYi4/s320/FamilySummer+213.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This was by far, the saddest moment in Kansas City this weekend. If you were very quiet and still, you probably could have sensed the sadness all over the city. If I had money to waste, I would drive up there every few days just to experience this gelato in all of its glorious flavors. Seriously, it is that good. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-74409310315424866792011-08-04T13:31:00.045-05:002011-08-04T14:00:45.605-05:0010 Things I Love, Love, LoveI seriously thought that I would be able to come up with the things that I love the most easily, but it really took some time. There are a lot of people that I love, things I love to do, and places I love to go, but narrowing it down to what I love the most was kind of hard. Those of you who are close to me could probably guess a lot of them, but I think I have a few surprises up my sleeve for all of you. Here it goes...<br />
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10. Trains. I love being able to hear the train from my house. When we first moved in, I thought it would drive me insane to hear the train whistle blowing at all hours. When my boys were tiny babies, I would be so nervous that it would wake the boys after working so hard to get them to sleep. It never did. I hardly ever hear it at night, and sometimes I don't even notice it during the day. That's not to say that it's not there, but I just don't always hear it. There is something so comforting about it just being there. When life seems so crazy and you think everything is falling apart, it is grounding to know that the train is there, the world just keeps going and whatever we are going through will pass as well.<br />
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9. The beach. I know it sounds totally lame to say that, because who doesn't love the beach? I love it because it's peaceful, because I have so many memories of being there growing up, and because it reminds us that we are just one small speck in a world full of God's creation. I love to play in the waves and sand and act like a silly kid with my silly kids, but I also love to just sit there and take it in. My absolute favorite memory of Gavin is when I took him out in the ocean when he was only one year old. He just laid his head on my shoulder and we moved with the waves for probably an hour. Every beach is different. They all have their own unique aspects, but I could be happy at any of them.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3FhDk-lTwLUngN9JUf1_GtYytzs4pXjdy1YlKQ4svU6lCg4fP0siqQBfV7F0afj81B8S00uTJ0fR2gPSQk5KqLT_w0v2huEb8kQd3vUve4b0QJ6kT7w1Mi9WTojFHal3JzNP8fqH2Dan_/s1600/bcbeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3FhDk-lTwLUngN9JUf1_GtYytzs4pXjdy1YlKQ4svU6lCg4fP0siqQBfV7F0afj81B8S00uTJ0fR2gPSQk5KqLT_w0v2huEb8kQd3vUve4b0QJ6kT7w1Mi9WTojFHal3JzNP8fqH2Dan_/s320/bcbeach.jpg" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div>8. Friends. Both kinds. I love my girlfriends that I can talk to for hours, but I also love my other <em>Friends</em>, as in Monica, Rachel, Pheebs, Ross, Chandler, and Joey. I own every episode and I can quote from every one of them. I used to do it a lot more often, but then I realized that only a handful of my actual friends new where it was coming from. So, now I save my quotes for Kristi, Shanna, and my poor husband. Watching Friends can pull me out of just about every funk. So next time you're having a poopy day, watch it, and think of me. Maybe it will work for you too!<br />
7. Language. I love learning new words, using new words, and especially finding grammatical mistakes. I'm human. I make them too, but maybe that's why I love to find someone else making them. I'm a dork, I know. I'm okay with that. In fact, I might even be a little bit proud.<br />
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6. Pizza. Yep. It made the top ten, but seriously, could there be a more perfect food? You can do anything to it, and have a new food experience every time. I love a hot, fresh pizza straight out of the oven at a pizza place. I love the bubbles in the cheese when it is done just perfect. I love that you can make it as healthy or unhealthy as you feel like depending on your mood. In other words, it is a food that is okay with you being moody. What's better than that? (On a side note, this is also why I like tulips so much. Can you see that I have accepted my moodiness and even embraced it? I'm a girl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYI-gzeIPyO_A6hOgDG9wJA4G34bF-kfiNj7PWvUIIeTObPUeqNd7b8v6zqrDM85u-1lLoZb5EZV29KaQTP0hDfnK4JcvSJ98fxLaFO3MYVNyvbSa19eKLIvKXi6tWnBRRL91fEjpE1gfM/s1600/bake+on.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYI-gzeIPyO_A6hOgDG9wJA4G34bF-kfiNj7PWvUIIeTObPUeqNd7b8v6zqrDM85u-1lLoZb5EZV29KaQTP0hDfnK4JcvSJ98fxLaFO3MYVNyvbSa19eKLIvKXi6tWnBRRL91fEjpE1gfM/s320/bake+on.jpg" t$="true" width="241" /></a>!)<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">5. Baking. I love to bake. It is so wonderful to know that you made something from scratch and that no store-bought item can even come close to it. Some of my favorites are banana bread, peanut butter cookies, and snickerdoodles. I love sharing my baked creations with my family and friends, experimenting in the kitchen, finding new recipes and making them fun, using my vintage Betty Crocker "Cooky Book", and I LOVE when the boys help me make bake. I also love cooking, but there's just nothing like the scent of a kitchen with fresh baked goodies. No candle can truly capture it, and no amount of HFCS or the other junk they put in mass produced store-bough cookies can compare to the taste of cookies right out of the oven! It's so much fun to do, and your creations can turn out differently every single time....kind of like life!</div><br />
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<br />
4. Barnes & Noble...especially the kids section. I love just browsing through the shelves of book after book. I mentally add books to my wish list for my kids, my classroom, or my kindle (which is kind of ironic to be doing at a bookstore, I know). I look at books and think of how someday I will definitely be publishing my own book, because if some of those books there could get published, I've got nothing to worry about. I look through the whole children's section every time. I remember going there before I even had kids of my own. I would say I was buying things for my classroom, but really I was looking at all the books I wanted to make sure I would share with my own children someday. I also have really good memories of sitting in the coffee shop (and sometimes then in the car in the parking lot after getting kicked out aftre closing) with my closest friends and talking for hours about life and everything else that would float in and out of our conversations. It's a magical place, and if I lived in a different time, my dream would be to own a children's bookstore, but we all saw how that turned out for Kathleen Kelly and The Shop Around The Corner. (Makes me cry every time...)<br />
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3. Photography. I love to take pictures. In another life, I would have been a photographer, but then who would be there to teach my class of second graders with a smile and a healthy dose of reality everyday? I took some classes in college, but my teacher was a real, well, let's just say I'm not a fan of his. It kind of turned me off to the idea of doing it as a career, but I have taken a some senior pictures for people I know, and they have all been happy with them, so I guess that means I'm pretty decent. I love photographing my kids, and I am that parent that posts too many pictures on facebook, but oh well. I love it.<br />
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2. My family. Another generic answer I know, but my family is my life. I don't know where I'd be without them. They are my people, my light, my source for smiles, sadness, and tender moments. I don't say this to mean that I see them as a burden. It's quite the opposite. Because they are so intertwined in my heart, what they feel, I feel. I love my husband with all my heart. We have the most precious gifts in the world, and no matter what we go through, as long as we're together, we are blessed. I cannot say enough about them, so I'll stop...or maybe not. No, I will.<br />
<br />
And drumroll, please.....<br />
1. Jesus. Obviously, without Him, I wouldn't have all the other things I love. He gives us new life every morning, and He teaches me to rely on Him when I'm not able to do it all on my own (and who would want to, anyway). He blesses us in the biggest and smallest ways each day, and I can only hope that I am a good example of His love for my children. I'm not perfect, and I'm certainly not going to preach, but I am thankful for a source of strength that will NEVER fail me.<br />
<br />
There you go. I know this was a long one, and now that it's over, the other posts won't be so long. Now you know a little bit about me, and from now on, I can give you a glimpse of what it's like for me to live my life. <br />
<br />
ErinErinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2140067478322634228.post-1005988820611903882011-07-25T14:31:00.041-05:002011-07-25T15:17:44.999-05:00My Least Favorite ThingsIn my time in the classroom, I've found that kids are usually very good at writing about themselves. They love to write about their favorite things, but they find it even more fun when you let them write about things that they don't like, their least favorite part of a book, or their worst part of their day. Maybe it's because we all love to vent or complain or maybe our culture has taught kids to over-explain everything about their dislikes and why they feel the way they do. I admit that I fall into the trap as well. I sometimes have to remind myself to be more positive. Since this is a brand new adventure, I should start out on the right note and put a happy spin on my first posts right? Wrong! I am going to get my pet peeve post out of the way so that from now on, I can write as the most happy, cheerful person on the planet!<br />
<br />
Ok, I might have gotten carried away....nobody needs to have Mrs. Sappy Happy shoved down their throats until they want to toss their cookies. So without further ado, I give you my top ten dislikes: <br />
<br />
10. Peas. <br />
So it may seem a little pathetic that I would use one of my top ten on a tiny little vegetable, but I really, really dislike peas! I do not like their squishy texture, disgusto taste, the way that canned peas are a color green that can only be described as manufactured ugliness, the way that frozen peas look unnaturally green, or the fact that they can ruin a perfectly decent salad. That being said, I do eat them about once a week in order to show my boys that sometimes you should eat things because they are good for you, not just because they taste good.<br />
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9. Vanity. <br />
Now I'm all for making yourself all pretty when you go out, but really nobody cares if you are wearing all your makeup and most fancy pants when you go to Walmart. I just never, ever want to be the person who someone won't recognize if I don't have makeup on. I also don't want to waste time that I could have spent with my family on myself. That being said, I did just buy some awesome new mascara, but really, a girl's gotta be a girl!<br />
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8. The way my dad turns the television louder and louder so that you have to talk louder. <br />
People are more important than television, so turn it down. I love, love, love my TV time too, but if you can't stand people talking over whatever sports play is happening at any given moment, join the 21st century and get a DVR so you can watch it when we aren't around!<br />
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7. That guy who pounds his music so loud at the stop light that it makes your heart thump in your chest. <br />
*BOOM! BOOM!* This makes me feel *BOOM! BOOM!* so much smarter than you, guy. <br />
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6. Bad Restaurant Service. <br />
Okay, this really more of a pet peeve of my husbando than it is for me, but it directly affects me since he is usually my restaurant companion (Don't we sound fancy?....Um no, we sound more like old fogies.) The deal with it is, that most of the time, there isn't an excuse for it to happen, yet the servers still expect that 15% tip. Now, if I get good service, I'm going to tip you well, but if I get bad service, maybe you should start tipping me. Good idea, right? I bet 99% of wait staff would improve if that was the deal. <br />
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5. Whining. <br />
BUT I DON'T WAAANNNNNAAAA hear it, kid.<br />
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4. Fox News. <br />
I don't want to make enemies, so I'm just going to leave it at that. Actually, I'm going to say one more thing...whatever your beliefs, be able to defend them.<br />
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3. Texting and Driving. <br />
It's just not safe, people. Cut it out! You're putting all of us in danger, and nothing you have to say is so important that it can't either be said on an actual call or wait until you reach your destination. Also, I will make you feel bad if you text and drive with me in the car, so go ahead and try it....no don't! Stop texting and driving....seriously.<br />
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2. Smoking.<br />
Again, cut it out! It's gross. It makes you smell bad and look unintelligent, and it isn't good for you or the people around you. There is nothing smart or sexy about it! As much as you'd like to think it does, it does not make you look like Don Draper. By the way, is there anyone out there who hasn't heard about how bad it is for you?<br />
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1. Stupidity<br />
This is pretty all-encompassing. It's hard for me to put it into words, so I'll leave it at this, use your brain! Especially if you're a parent. If you're in college, especially undergrad, I'll give you a pass. Use your brain in class, but you can act a little stupid as long as you don't lose a scholarship or drive drunk....or smoke...or text while driving! As for the rest of us, take a little time to think. It does wonders for your ability to make good choices. Brand new information for some, I know. <br />
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Amazing how much better I feel now that I got all those out. I can't wait to share with you the things I love...it will be much harder to narrow it down to 10!<br />
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ErinErinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07519209717020578425noreply@blogger.com0