tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20851053622175370882024-03-19T15:00:17.465-05:00Is It Naptime Yet?!?Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-18702066824912583702014-08-10T10:54:00.001-05:002014-08-10T12:07:07.590-05:00A Little Dab'll Do Ya...<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Two things make this little text blog-worthy. One is that Heather Hanks should go into the 2 year old Sunday School teacher hall of awesomeness. As much as I'm ready for Tess to potty train and move on to the 3 year old hall where she belongs, I will miss the encouraging notes I get from Heather about my girls Sunday morning. </span></div><div><br></div><div>The second is the fact that I dabbed a little 'perfume' on my little lady as I was getting her ready for church- and don't ya know Tess the mess wasn't such a mess today! Props to dōTERRA Wild Orange oil! </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmFzkNFr7JP_qdyMGrG5EZipG3_iGmW36_WW7esxELUgEHvgxPEyBe2KVfeXmg_v8gtW0lmppHWmIkod9Gh5TPRkQiRY0gNhkxY_PnTDZCMX7yKvZFhz3NGT3w0SiPbBWjP6qjwxTq2Q/s640/blogger-image-1858770348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmFzkNFr7JP_qdyMGrG5EZipG3_iGmW36_WW7esxELUgEHvgxPEyBe2KVfeXmg_v8gtW0lmppHWmIkod9Gh5TPRkQiRY0gNhkxY_PnTDZCMX7yKvZFhz3NGT3w0SiPbBWjP6qjwxTq2Q/s640/blogger-image-1858770348.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">and then... a little PS... I got THIS one from one of Ty's teachers... (and yes, I oil'd him too...) These people and these oils have blessed my morning! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQno2pKUrlgk787HH2-U1silR9TIAKfVtwCFJZtOZyaT83a7n1LdQ0Phcpiijb5prtFxzk7Yf_3dp970XP1jMZlsPr5LVabrOk6ddZmO59IerlniJ8ZEdIZG_gRTdkPsyTHJ5Jpj4lHGo/s640/blogger-image--364077734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQno2pKUrlgk787HH2-U1silR9TIAKfVtwCFJZtOZyaT83a7n1LdQ0Phcpiijb5prtFxzk7Yf_3dp970XP1jMZlsPr5LVabrOk6ddZmO59IerlniJ8ZEdIZG_gRTdkPsyTHJ5Jpj4lHGo/s640/blogger-image--364077734.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-18439910078353402402014-08-08T17:55:00.001-05:002014-08-08T18:43:54.302-05:00Firsts: First Grade and a First BornJust like that, first AND second days of school have come and gone and I have yet to show the world my adorable and brilliant 1st grader on her first day. Here we go now, ye shall wait no longer...<br />
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The staff at GCA will never possibly know how BLESSED we feel to be able to send her there each day. This morning at dropoff it made my heart swell with gratitude to see a row of godly men lining the drop-off line, waving and smiling to welcome our kids to a new day. Thankful to them for choosing to be part of a place where they would spend their next several hours (along with all of the other teachers busy inside their classrooms already) discipling and investing Jesus in them all in the same time they're investing in their education. (I HAVE to add in here that she started CURSIVE on the FIRST DAY of 1st grade. I geeked out a little about that one. It was the lowercase e. Which is doubly cool since there are three of those in her name.) We are SO GRATEFUL for our school!<br />
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(a little timeline here... first days of Pre-K and Kindergarten. It's such a gift to watch her grow...)</div>
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And on a completely different note, my new baby niece finally made her Facebook debut, which means I can finally show her off in my world too... <br />
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Truly there's never been a sweeter baby named Hadley Brooke brought in to this world! Weighing in at a whopping 8 lbs and 22 inches long, she is the first born to my sister and her husband, and the 9th born Grandbaby to my Mom and late Dad. In the words of her cousin Peyton... 'she gots WOTS a cussins' (you got that, right? say it JUST like it's spelled and you can get a hint of how adorable it was when she said it...)<br />
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There they are... Ages 8, almost 7, almost 6, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, and 0. And I'm just gonna keep it real here for a second... 9 kids under the age of 8 is sheer insanity. Every time they're together. It's. Just. Loud. But it's LOTS of lovin' and sweetness too! And we are taking suggestions for creative Christmas celebration options/venues.<br />
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Time to get my weekend on... 5 days to Hawaii, folks! </div>
Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-26355058905733485582014-08-06T15:08:00.001-05:002014-08-06T15:16:15.267-05:00It's Official- I'm a Songwriter.It just came to me. Like a sort of epiphany. We walked in from the grocery today and it was nap time. The kids had beaten me in the house and were living it up in my living room. That's when it hit me... so I sang.<div><br></div><div>'all my wag'ner babies, all my wag'ner babies... all my wag'ner babies, all my wag'ner babies...</div><div>get up to your rooms, let's head on up, get up those stairs right now.'</div><div><br></div><div>{begin cries, whines, and pleads for re-consideration. re-sing first part of song. at least i get a laugh out of Reese}</div><div><br></div><div>'if you're whinin' then i'm gonna put a spank on it, if you're whinin' then I'm gonna put a spank on it. don't wanna hear it, i'll just have to put a spank on ya- whoa--oa-oa... oa-oa-oa... whoa-oa-oa... oa-oa-oa'</div><div><br></div><div>And just in case you need a visual... I have to imagine it all looked something like this. Minus the leotards. </div><div><br></div><div>http://33.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m2i6nekfLD1rtet8zo1_500.gif</div><div>(you may have to copy and paste the link to view it... but it's totally worth it, trust me.)</div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-90783123692468271132014-08-05T17:24:00.001-05:002014-08-05T17:24:35.505-05:00Busy-ness: you're fired.Facebook is wearing me out. I'm finding that, 'when my heart is overwhelmed...' not only do I need to be led to the Rock that is higher than I am, but I probably need to stop letting my brain be overcrowded with all of the shenanigans that is making up my newsfeed. When that little red number pops up on the screen of my phone, it seems to intrude itself right onto my to-do list... completely uninvited. Gotta figure out how to turn those notifications off... start bossing my phone around instead of it being the boss of me. <div><br></div><div>Gotta get back to the things I love. Painting. Man I haven't painted a picture or a piece of furniture in FOREVER. And dedicated time with the love of my life and my sweet babies... Reese got the whole American Girl Samantha book collection for Christmas. I can't wait to watch her dig into that now that she's starting first grade. Samantha was my favorite when I was a girl... probably because she was so close to her grandmother. I'm still very close to my grandmother. We had a great week when I stayed at her house with my kids last week...</div><div><br></div><div>With school starting back this week, I'm so burdened about being intentional to rule my schedule with things that matter this semester, instead of letting our schedule rule me. I don't know how many of you find yourself feeling like this- but it seems as though I wake up with ridculous expectations for myself and for my day, and they're not just ruling my time, they're ruling my heart... ruling my mood and my emotions. And here lately I look around at this AMAZING family God has blessed me with and... I feel like I'm easily grouchy, treating them at times like they're imposing instead of brightening my life like the jewels that they are... and I just want more of them.</div><div><br></div><div>I feel like I got it right today. Wake up, eat breakfast, put cute clothes on my cute kids, and go BOWLING. Celebrate their strikes thanks to bumpers and those awesome ramps that Ty and Tessa bowl with. Target run for new arm-floaties, because IT'S STILL SUMMER and my boy loves to swim. PB and J for lunch, and a momentarily quiet house while they nap. Then thoughts race through my mind of a woman on the other side of the world who is desperately trying to protect her babies from those that want them all dead because of their faith. And I'm humbled and I pray for her and I'm overwhelmed with the thought of how good life is today. And I'm so grateful for it.</div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7EIut8y4xyaJ14oksENmhNUUd_n5iCWvKSpEC6gYjEFsBycm5Y5up8fgPagO1vLoWm2QXj6EW3XbJQ-DLfIJwbAO1zkH5aKvKXtP8Bc2AYhIZzwYNbjfmmz1cTjnji7LBoHCf6G_DTCo/s640/blogger-image--412514110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7EIut8y4xyaJ14oksENmhNUUd_n5iCWvKSpEC6gYjEFsBycm5Y5up8fgPagO1vLoWm2QXj6EW3XbJQ-DLfIJwbAO1zkH5aKvKXtP8Bc2AYhIZzwYNbjfmmz1cTjnji7LBoHCf6G_DTCo/s640/blogger-image--412514110.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>As far as 'summer' goes, I'm glad to see the busy-ness winding down. The Lord has given me a lot of grace just as He's allowed a lot to be put on my plate over the past 3-4 months. Between losing my dad, (I mean can we just get real for a second and ask HOW in the world he's already been gone nearly 3 months?!?) two camps, two mission trips, the amazing-ness that is VBS, baby-showering and baby-welcoming a new niece, all while still juggling work responsibilities and being wife and mama, my head has been spinning for weeks now... The Lord has been so faithful to keep me in perfect peace throughout every step of it, when I've kept my mind on Him, but I think I'm ready for my mind to be allowed a little more of the being still for a bit!</div><div><br></div><div>So here I go. Granting myself, (and you if you need it- ha) permission to close the book on and reject busy-ness at a time when it should seem like the opposite would be occurring. Permission to embrace a new school year instead of dreading it. Busy-ness is a state of mind. I want to choose to be present instead... with the grace of God, I wanna drink in each opportunity that's put in front of me.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxHkNvpgKlCpjkMAwukBZTZr6IA_wqmj9LoPiuVU90zTNIXWOzoNx3zKe8q2IAgpBb2kLBVqj1BGAPZLKFvRvbR8P1D1s5EluBYqqM0ptRtboLGWgb2c8hDYtRuOrcC2Utvt3sPvV_C0/s640/blogger-image-1820754634.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxHkNvpgKlCpjkMAwukBZTZr6IA_wqmj9LoPiuVU90zTNIXWOzoNx3zKe8q2IAgpBb2kLBVqj1BGAPZLKFvRvbR8P1D1s5EluBYqqM0ptRtboLGWgb2c8hDYtRuOrcC2Utvt3sPvV_C0/s640/blogger-image-1820754634.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-842463220759311092014-06-12T21:28:00.001-05:002014-06-12T21:38:29.436-05:00#CrossCampID2014 - Passing the TorchIn the eleven years I've been out to Camp Linden now, we've had some pretty great weeks of CrossCamp, but this week held a pretty special uniqueness to it. The 'passing of a torch' in a sense from Pastor Eric to the (almost) Pastor Mark.<br />
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TSC, let me tell you that I've watched Pastor Eric, with the utmost grace and maturity, love kids and be present in their lives this week, while at the same time totally promote Mark and encourage kids to love him and be engaged with him this week in light of his upcoming role. And I've watched "coach montgomery" (as so many of these kids have known him) step into it effortlessly. It has just been seamless and exciting to see. <br />
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This weeks theme has been all about teaching these kids to know that their identity lies in Christ. I don't know about you, but if you ask me who I am, I'm gonna tell you I'm a wife, mom, piano teacher, photographer, and 'hippie oil' seller... ;) Pastor Eric's 'ID' for the past four years has been 'children's pastor' at TSC. Don't get me wrong, there's no question that he knows WHO his identity lies in... but anyone could agree it's gotta be an emotional and bittersweet thing to be handing over your job to someone else.<br />
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Things that are growing are always changing. (I mean, if you've ever watched me in 9 months of growing a Wagoner baby, you can definitely agree!) ;) I think in lots of settings a competitive vibe could easily show it's face and tension can arise when a change like this is taking place. I absolutely respect and admire the hearts I've seen in both of these men this week. Mark respecting who Eric has been, and Eric respecting, encouraging, and believing in who Mark will be. Their unity has brought about such a sweet, sweet spirit. It's very apparent that they know who their "ID's" lie in. What an astounding example they've been to our kids.<br />
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So since we can't all come to camp, I thought I'd do my best to make sure the friendship, grace, unity, and excitement your kids have seen this week was hopefully somehow communicated in a small way back to you and had a chance of making an impact on the hearts of their parents too. Get excited with them! It's been a GREAT week!!! Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-51719833342562528822013-06-24T18:04:00.000-05:002013-06-27T05:09:01.970-05:00Georgia On My Mind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Step back a couple days to Monday June 24. I'm sitting in the airport composing a blog, eager with excitement... Here's how it started.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Flashback October 2008....</div>
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...first time i left my kid behind for a "trip" overseas. (I say 'kid' because she was the only one I had at the time... funny to think about that, because I can't even remember what that was like anymore...) In this picture I was just seeing her again for the first time in a couple weeks. Here we are, 5 years later, and I'm super excited to be taking her along for her very first trip.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlCZx4zTHDGSpTvQOe1kg-Z7mNqMOM0QKCsjE5um_WgIOKC_SqQyxQAKPy9xSM8D3nXZaCHzSQL0Iflya5piS8Dh84WjDxmgmUKIXjhmqetHI1XlHNI26O6hZTYdM5umMT-3QdllVAKc/s640/blogger-image-308616053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlCZx4zTHDGSpTvQOe1kg-Z7mNqMOM0QKCsjE5um_WgIOKC_SqQyxQAKPy9xSM8D3nXZaCHzSQL0Iflya5piS8Dh84WjDxmgmUKIXjhmqetHI1XlHNI26O6hZTYdM5umMT-3QdllVAKc/s640/blogger-image-308616053.jpg"></a></div><br><div><br></div><div>And so far, before leaving the airport, she's only asked 4,192,736.3 questions.</div><div><br></div><div>My brain is tired."</div><div><br></div><div> </div><div><br></div><div>Little did I know that at that point, it was far from the state of tired that it was going to reach...</div><div><br></div><div>Before you go any further, just like the past two days I experienced, this is VERY long. And I probably sound like I'm complaining a bit from time to time, but I want you to know in the midst of not liking what was going on, I felt the hand of God on us the entire time, and knew He was among us, knitting together every detail. I can say without hesitation He was completely sovereign in this. But if you wanna know the details of what kept us from our trip, I invite you to keep reading... there's a great story at the end you don't wanna miss anyway... ;)</div><div><br></div><div>That sweet little excited face up there, (and Reese's face too of course...) ;) never made it to our desired destination. Instead it made it to Chicago O'Hare Airport, home of the friendliest and most helpful airline employees that anyone could find in the world. (insert thick sarcasm here)</div><div><br></div><div>We didn't make it to the precious church awaiting us in Gori, Georgia. We didn't make it to the sweet Douglas family and their 5 kiddos. We didn't see Warsaw, Poland like we had planned to do during our 9 hour layover. </div><div><br></div><div> Instead we saw a bunch of this...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikDTgUbMssZ5rT2XzFerBNp_QjJv3c4igR2ihNGSWn2ixHH8yEtiaPrZaaG5MSCqrNApoT0e_5Ea8VS27Vs5G1EuiDV8GsxSYcvqO4wvrphSXLNDQLkr2l49Ve3Ak0VuCUlZ6vKkFQ-UI/s640/blogger-image-721561697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikDTgUbMssZ5rT2XzFerBNp_QjJv3c4igR2ihNGSWn2ixHH8yEtiaPrZaaG5MSCqrNApoT0e_5Ea8VS27Vs5G1EuiDV8GsxSYcvqO4wvrphSXLNDQLkr2l49Ve3Ak0VuCUlZ6vKkFQ-UI/s640/blogger-image-721561697.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUctegwnovqDMsq1XKV5jIVZYeuDQyE5ycn9K6PW2z4PNk9CkrJXzWLmpDe3W8ugXNdFPzn3oo5MVBr4AvO4bohfuV6SGi7KCJDb6S7PFg1qcq2bgr963LsQJpQC_DooGL1wCn6zvVyII/s640/blogger-image-1757134402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUctegwnovqDMsq1XKV5jIVZYeuDQyE5ycn9K6PW2z4PNk9CkrJXzWLmpDe3W8ugXNdFPzn3oo5MVBr4AvO4bohfuV6SGi7KCJDb6S7PFg1qcq2bgr963LsQJpQC_DooGL1wCn6zvVyII/s640/blogger-image-1757134402.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJp9p7ljd0qNT_oh0wCXJz7RFetghyphenhyphenqYp62und8kl4BAJpOU1fUnwxT9SaSMvxq1MnADh_IX8vpQVU2QEnwJMG12omU2DBZw0-W6oYgl2JD6W_qCPYCMsWUUUVCIdT774zPu2kWE0dH1k/s640/blogger-image--183475290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJp9p7ljd0qNT_oh0wCXJz7RFetghyphenhyphenqYp62und8kl4BAJpOU1fUnwxT9SaSMvxq1MnADh_IX8vpQVU2QEnwJMG12omU2DBZw0-W6oYgl2JD6W_qCPYCMsWUUUVCIdT774zPu2kWE0dH1k/s640/blogger-image--183475290.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Just to put you right into the story I should let you know the first (and possibly only way so far) that we can now say that, in hindsight, we could see and understand God's hand in all of this, started with the first... well the only... flight we made it on. The first leg of our trip found our team of 16 taking two planes to Chicago, first 9 of us leaving at about 545pm, then the other 7 of us around 640pm. Before we left TSC at 3:00 we already knew that the 640 flight was delayed and would prevent 7 of us from reaching Chicago in time to make the connecting flight to Poland. And so began the phone calls to airlines and travel agents...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">To make this long part shorter, God did an amazing thing and worked it out that all 7 of us were put on standby and were miraculously able to take that first flight (which, did I mention was itself delayed and didn't take off until 8pm) all together. After it was all said and done, we quickly realized how blessed we were that he allowed us all to stay together. </div><br></div><div>So we land in Chicago about 940. Frantically checking flight schedules we learned that our flight to Poland had been delayed as well. Whew... Until we were informed that there was no gate for us to pull into so we couldn't get off the plane. Uh-oh. Oh wait, our flight to Poland has been delayed yet again. Whew. </div><div><br></div><div>Oh wait, we are going to have to sit on this runway for. an. hour. before someone finally gets us inside that airport.</div><div><br></div><div>Hour goes by. We are all finally of the plane and had been told on the phone by American Airlines to book it to talk to someone at the Polish Airlines desk, that even if we had to rebook, we would have to do so through them. Quick, 16 people, leave terminal 3 to find the trams that will take us to the International terminal 5. </div><div><br></div><div>Wait 15 minutes for tram. Run some more to terminal 5.</div><div><br></div><div>International terminal is nearly empty. :(</div><div><br></div><div>One lady is left at Polish Airlines desk. "I'm sorry, that flight has just left. Please go back to terminal 3, AA will have to rebook your flight."</div><div><br></div><div>are. you. kidding. me.</div><div><br></div><div>back to tram. wait some more. run some more.</div><div><br></div><div>(are you tired yet?)</div><div><br></div><div>arrive at AA counter. very helpful, warm, fuzzy, loving supervisor says... why yes, i do see that I have about 6-8 people at the ticket counters, but they're tired and ready to go home so I will not let them help you. i will however, put you on cots here in the airport and let you talk to someone again at 330 am when we re-open if you'd like.</div><div><br></div><div>so there you have it. I wish this were the part of the story where it totally takes a turn for the better and everything works out. but it didn't. we booked hotels (thank you, hotwire) and were shuttled to our rooms for the night. my sweet husband was on the phone with airlines all night. no really, all night. with a heavy heart he woke me at 330... "baby, i've talked with every airline that could possibly fly us somewhere in Europe that would get us to Georgia. i can't believe i'm saying this, but i don't think there's any way we're going to make it. I'm gonna go wake up a few of the guys and talk to them about it."</div><div><br></div><div>He did, and at 5am he and Jason Darby were shuttled 30 min back to the airport to spend about 3 hours with a ticketing agent, and were told that they could possibly get us all there, if some people went through Germany, some through France, some through Jordan, and the list went on to about 3-4 other countries... and it would probably take about 45 hours and a few flights in between before we all made it back together.</div><div><br></div><div>that is of course, if everything works like it should.</div><div><br></div><div>I know this is getting long. I wish I could say it was nearly over...</div><div><br></div><div>they made the very tough decision that in the interest of everyone's safety, and not getting lost or stranded amidst several countries in Europe, that we would rent cars and return home. </div><div><br></div><div>so about 830-9am or so i hear a tap on the door. it's superman, coming to, after over 24 hours, finally catch a little sleep. he also learned while at the airport that polish airlines had our luggage, and since their next flight didn't leave until 550 that night, they wouldn't open until 2pm.</div><div><br></div><div>breakfast, a meeting to break the news to the team that we would be trying to reschedule in a month, and lunch commenced, then we were on our way back to O'Hare to retreive our luggage. We were informed by the same agent that had spoken to us the night before that she felt there was a good chance if we waited a couple more hours, we might make standby and get there just a day late after all. Trying hard not to get our hopes up, we decided to wait and see if indeed the Lord would open the door. But since I'm here in my bed typing right now, you have probably figured that we did not. Luggage was finally retrieved, and by 7pm we were headed home.</div><div><br></div><div>I should include, though, a very big highlight of this two day fiasco... </div><div><br></div><div>Monday morning while getting ready to leave, Reagan and I were discussing the possibility of sightseeing in Warsaw during our layover, and I had the thought of four of us making the "O-H-I-O" like any good Buckeye would do in a foreign place. Then it ocurred to me... "reagan, we have GOT to trick Andy Willett (Michigan fan extraordinaire) into being the 'I' in that picture!" So it was decided...</div><div><br></div><div>Waiting at the ticketing counter to either get on a plane or get our bags back, I decided it was now or never. Four of us were at the counter, Reagan, me, Chad Whittenburg, and Andy. So I filled Chad in on what we needed him to do. He said it was a tough thing to participate in being an SEC man himself, but he decided to take one for the team. Sam Smith gladly took my phone to snap the shot. I said to the three of them... "here, let's get a shot of the deliberators here at the counter" and when I gave the cue, reagan, myself, and chad put our arms in the air... </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCT6pB9TfXjsZoVqupiJqYg0x3P02Vqxp4327u-e9kpuqu7ifSOyrmzfSKEA489pHjdp0huacxJ4q_U8P8ZAqDYXmzAjSLAfkzuYg3o6Fr4IBco2wsDO1fsz9sFFQaEeNhP3kHMGTwrcc/s640/blogger-image-85670676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCT6pB9TfXjsZoVqupiJqYg0x3P02Vqxp4327u-e9kpuqu7ifSOyrmzfSKEA489pHjdp0huacxJ4q_U8P8ZAqDYXmzAjSLAfkzuYg3o6Fr4IBco2wsDO1fsz9sFFQaEeNhP3kHMGTwrcc/s640/blogger-image-85670676.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">by the time he realized what was going on, he tried to run, but it was too late... 16 voices began filling that terminal with crazy laughter. I couldn't believe we did it. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">I<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "> might just frame this shot of the four of us and put it in my office. right next to pictures of my kids, showing one of the proudest moments of. my. life.</span></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnhk9o4IENSVAWE74N86DDwGpq6yXb84NH5x4JJKHQmuQUlC02XVnYYUnZeh8Qnf8F-daSGGbe1k0bU_xiAgsJgKn08JfcBBK1n0DHCyMX8RCpDCAkX2C5031ZXMvS2_6JTU-hcQzAz4/s640/blogger-image-1089112764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnhk9o4IENSVAWE74N86DDwGpq6yXb84NH5x4JJKHQmuQUlC02XVnYYUnZeh8Qnf8F-daSGGbe1k0bU_xiAgsJgKn08JfcBBK1n0DHCyMX8RCpDCAkX2C5031ZXMvS2_6JTU-hcQzAz4/s640/blogger-image-1089112764.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've gotta give him credit... he took it like a man.</div><br></div><div>In fact, in light of every circumstance that we were faced with over the past two days, everyone of the 16 people on our team of adults and teenagers (and reese) :) handled themselves remarkably well. I was so impressed by their attitudes, their respect for and trust in reagan as team leader, and their ability to keep pushing through no matter what. </div><div><br></div><div>We know God's hand was on us, from tangible ways like keeping us together when we were supposed to have been separated (which would have ensued even more chaos.) And in other ways where we can't see and have NO idea why he didn't let us get there, we've had to trust that there is a reason that we very well may NEVER know this side of heaven. We know we did everything in our power to get there, so at the end of the day we can say with confidence that HE very firmly closed the door this week and just did not let us through it.</div><div><br></div><div>The scripture that kept ringing in my ears over these two days was Proverbs 16:9... "We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps." So we are going to try to make plans again... hopefully in a month, we'll see... in the end, I'm finding a really big security in seeing just how big my God is. At any moment he could've calmed the weather and gotten us where we needed to be at the time we needed to be there. But He didn't. And while some people might question Him, (and understandably so) I'm finding peace in just saying 'ok', and in seeing the ways instead, that He chose to show us just how large and in charge He is. Thank you, Lord, for graciously allowing me to see your hand on my life over the past two days. In your hand is exactly where I want to be.</div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-33357835283081071082013-06-11T00:53:00.001-05:002013-06-11T00:53:03.667-05:00one for the win column....<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Disclaimer: what you are about to read is not always the norm when it comes to how I handle stressful situations. I've been asking God to do a work in my life and in the ways in how I treat my husband and kids when I'm stressed, and I've felt so incredibly blessed by how I have seen his hand in the past week that if for no other reason than using this as a reminder of his goodness to me, I just had to write it down!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); line-height: 24px;"><b>ok, carry on...</b></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">So I've already said a little bit about what the rest of my month looks like. It's full. It's busy. It's definitely not chillin at home, cooking on my grill, playing cards on the deck, and watching my babies play together in the backyard. (I love our backyard by the way... it's way too much work, but its one of my most favorite things about our home.) One of the most exciting things about this month to me, is the arrival of not one, but TWO new baby girls into our family, and even more exciting to me is the fact that I'm not giving birth to either of them! ;) And more than ANYTHING I wanna be there to see them come into the world. (I know that's a private thing for a lot of ladies but for me, I'm all like 'gather all the girls in my family, bring on the popsicles and let's have a party! Yea babies! Time to celebrate!') With all that is going on presently though, as much as I tried to work and re-work the schedule, I've had to come to terms with something... I might. have. to. miss. it. (Unlike the birth of my own children, who had to be medically coaxed from my womb, my sister spits em out in a matter of hours it seems. So wrong...)</span><br />
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This means something that I reeeeallllly really (really) want is out of my control. This tends to make me grouchy and unpleasant to be around. </div>
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Hey it's not something I'm proud of... but it is what it is. Being unable to control things has proven time and time again to be one of the greatest joy robbers in my life. </div>
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And you know who usually takes the brunt of my pouting? Yep... my three sweets. And I just didn't wanna be that lady today. </div>
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So, I made a list of exactly what needed to be done today, (aka a list of things that I COULD control) turned my brain off to everything else, (including the nagging tug that keeps screeching in my ear, what if you miss it, what if you miss it?!?) and made of point of trying to be patient and thoughtful of them, enjoying those sweet cherubs today, in spite of the chaos of packing us all up and getting us out the door for camp. By some miracle, I didn't yell at Ty when he spilled 75% of his 'swuffee' in his car seat after I told him not to take the lid off. I didn't kill myself at dinner time because I didn't pack their dinners and chose to let them eat the camp food instead. And I let Reese have candy like all the other campers during the movie night even though it was nearly 10 o'clock. Let me tell you what happened as a result...</div>
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My kids hate HATE showers because they don't like water spraying in their faces. All three of them showered without a single tear or a whine tonight. (Well, except for Tess when I pulled her out...) When I made a big deal out of what a good job Ty did , he even gave me an overjoyed 'you're welcome Mama!' And somewhere in there was a ' you're da best mama in da world.' All three kids went to sleep with giggles and smiles instead of fussing over bedtime.</div>
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I have to think its because their hearts were full (instead of nagged and torn down by a grouchy mama not getting her way...) which has in turn filled mine up. </div>
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If there is one thing that I want to do well in this life, it's that I want to look back on the few precious years I got to raise my babies, and know that I didn't miss anything about them because I was too caught up in lesser important things... (like obsession about things out of my control)... For them to know how great I think they are... And to know that I have their hearts, but even more than that, that Jesus has their hearts. I just want to know that I enjoyed them to the fullest and gave them the best in me that I had to give. </div>
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As far as this week goes, I feel like we're off to a good start...</div>
Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-10736451651119743352013-06-08T23:26:00.001-05:002013-06-08T23:26:14.198-05:00Got an itch...This blog may be the most inconsistent thing I've ever done... or not done... I have grand dreams of writing and printing every year with hopes of having a great annual keepsake to help me be able to recall the events of our years, our kids, and whatnot... kinda like exercising- hoping it's never to late to start again I guess.<br />
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We are about to embark on, wait for it... our 10th year of CrossCamp. TEN YEARS... that landmark of a number is in all honesty one of the biggest reasons I'm going back. Definitely not because I'm eager to chase around wild child #3 all week. And I have poison ivy again. (Hence the title...) and shortly after that's all said and done, I head back to the Buckeye State for several days to welcome nieces #4 and #5 into the world, only to then leave my littles there, bring my big kid home, pack us up again and fly to Europe for 10 days. All of these things are reason for great excitement, but instead tonight, my heart is just overwhelmed with it all. ALL of the preparation, the emotion of leaving my babies behind, (and being away on the youngest's 2nd birthday) and not to mention the LAUNDRY... I think I just wanna stay home and take 'em to the pool every day instead.<br />
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But tonight I stumbled on this lady... www.aimee-weaver.blogspot.com one of my favorite home decor/thrifting bloggers... and was reminded of a picture she painted that I really wanna put in my house... if you look back two posts you'll see it... it says<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWi-alqq-qszZzsp_9W42f2-lgRIB8yak8pBSUBqyg413bYA3jObtamxz3eTmuxYRXWkO38A7rOUdZmQf2_3yvdOQXeKwlsgVy82xC51dwwNciHRFMSg2LRYHuxwYhYlw_I6rZWVAqofk/s1600/Psalm_sign1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWi-alqq-qszZzsp_9W42f2-lgRIB8yak8pBSUBqyg413bYA3jObtamxz3eTmuxYRXWkO38A7rOUdZmQf2_3yvdOQXeKwlsgVy82xC51dwwNciHRFMSg2LRYHuxwYhYlw_I6rZWVAqofk/s320/Psalm_sign1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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so I think I'll take it to heart. Thank you God, for speaking your restful spirit into my heart tonight. Let it resonate through my mind as I sleep and make this reminder carry over into my day as I worship you tomorrow. In all of your mercy and grace, whisper this to me everytime I need to hear it... </div>
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When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.</div>
Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-68340319674665931232011-09-29T17:11:00.006-05:002011-09-29T17:47:21.206-05:00Gordon/Charnik Wedding Teaser<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqdcc7BljgpihEiUZ-VLmPxQTIyF7l78YdtrPqemHvwqa6kYD_aoikiK03RTXcrh9mryQGPp9BuGdkBePHRLTJfFlrbV7l5KTmu-Q3UYZtKOxeg3sL2ryEJ_LP9uBCxifL4WRtUOLdrPI/s1600/IMG_8101bw.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657916746698427186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqdcc7BljgpihEiUZ-VLmPxQTIyF7l78YdtrPqemHvwqa6kYD_aoikiK03RTXcrh9mryQGPp9BuGdkBePHRLTJfFlrbV7l5KTmu-Q3UYZtKOxeg3sL2ryEJ_LP9uBCxifL4WRtUOLdrPI/s320/IMG_8101bw.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Here are just a few pictures of the <em>beautiful </em>wedding I shot out at Evins Mill in Smithville this weekend. Congrats to Mary-Gray and Andrew! More to come on Facebook... </div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657915773164126178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTH1Vz0T7k1DNVilsS8d-8VFm4QDUUl0yizfM0xAeugIG47hzfc46yjDKjimITtSh_OTWhc7Ys9OUUlDE1jkUqIbuKYL1mUcQnn41XbBS2z4z7m_08OtTPep3pDVeP2osl99dgOK66yZg/s320/IMG_8571bw.jpg" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657915114670846306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTKXVc6wbYrUCVadOjuL9HZr3PoZrt-OlvkqGs78GM0FkN6n4SlFdt4G8dzdLP8yhNSM09FbocKTLmM_7itxHya5K0NySjVPOD9nMs0yjYEthYdL29YcPNbhYHmfnJjYUL9lIFL2-chw/s320/IMG_8584.JPG" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657912612556103314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQlqvk3OKjZSf7HnO_p_15f7Gm2SEpXdJuyJDF-QK1fwIxUDmH6Bl2GwcXSbCERYHDbzrZGXiDIFYHAwPuUaiT0yqCNzqdperxMembiUlNX1MJHA6tchATpb-6S1LSWwSspDSlEre9Mk/s320/IMG_8643bw.jpg" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657913510811895362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Z3xNqPeqWdzxRrPDdKd5DlcEYpDeUBUycuvntSU6PC62Y9wweMOrbhkDB4ffViMRrs2SfgTAy8rMvFRw9S1oOYgRRTBDCtYwJNiuwDv3aAiACM1a0X1NQbnRduqqSp4NfvZ53w8GY7U/s320/IMG_8661.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657911909172663234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvoBnj_tmIY_ZxtnBwEIRZQgIxHY3YMZuHGNWLHMnO3KB4GZFV4cWqConqpud612Lq217Rk2on07lub1ZME4KYoZLJJ5YDApfRBf9CJtlOm9iPNkzGmOoo_zMAC4VsbhB-Yof-MrNBkUI/s320/IMG_8760.JPG" /></div></div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-8921397113874670672011-09-29T10:16:00.003-05:002011-09-29T10:17:42.560-05:00Gotta Paint This...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgAKugvCHK4Y2MWoLqu5t77RZ8JjQgGGDCaIT5jpO_58cIq9OX9LnTcu_kFeGix0qbGOurwDsyFh3I_W6SW1FmnJniwfjmw9wSXCwU8l3MauPc3N6VpGmGFai4PQtk6R22cYNiUJnYRF4/s1600/Psalm+sign1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 464px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgAKugvCHK4Y2MWoLqu5t77RZ8JjQgGGDCaIT5jpO_58cIq9OX9LnTcu_kFeGix0qbGOurwDsyFh3I_W6SW1FmnJniwfjmw9wSXCwU8l3MauPc3N6VpGmGFai4PQtk6R22cYNiUJnYRF4/s1600/Psalm+sign1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>I need one for every room in my house. :)<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-51067619757405722542011-09-28T15:04:00.018-05:002011-09-28T20:29:54.456-05:00The Morning AfterYes, this post is a little late. Or alot late, seeing as how this occurred about a month ago. Our little European excursion will have to take the blame, but I figure it's better late than never...<br /><br />Big Girl Baby as she calls herself (because a baby is obviously the thing to be at our house) had her fourth birthday party, completely with cookout, cake, ice cream, and a whole slew of presents. (This whole foods market birthday cake is <em>absolutely delish</em> might I add...)<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657506170976567058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90zbg9FdjFjFkpt6H5DkQcNpEY8G4fxlummrTH7t15MxItqskGH-IaEhGccJHl5So0njUUCsrub1p8pI-FH9v944VwONpYtrFBLgEExMcuoFDY5NRiNxSNZr6uT288xbx0-zEcApz3SE/s320/IMG_6045.JPG" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657507192051422498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV11t2ZFYIo2yRDG1-WcQKgzPNsmooHTM7cETCFyp9MF2uMsctvH3qDYShoUQilK47eamQouwiuP2nXnQ9joXzlsXTdIF4VpcbD7GYMpB66q2TtR1JcxAJ0jwvPFo9QuDj7k84AIrwmUs/s320/IMG_6055.JPG" />When it was all said and done I was just too pooped to clean up, and when I woke up the next morning to assess the damage, I thought... what a fun house we had last night. :)<br /><br />Here's what I saw...<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657547604334793154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPo7psh5aREkUJc8-oAIfivBPxQge4setLoeB1CTYiakS4TO2kv5VOV5JLItLYf0-dQ6GFFs6E0-5Z3pyCX5hQlUAiLJi03Dh8bqG3WEfFLpJWgSyEV-S5WeFRLFMakqtdarsE5fQPkU/s200/IMG_6083.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657543845695253234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9SF6SF2IaqiB5WRl1XLEd2G5znj-UVjOKZMtCZFpXr6co3VRdI6NTjcvXTEk5Ya04up1FJeVDbQmr2ivpsn0ruXfxZ0omTZPRp6CHr2OtHYLXLG7UTwruVEZva3KmbaVFI57NcrVKSA/s200/IMG_6086.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657508776270062338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BUMxAgWa9DntT5J1EeHaw9oscqp-jmFtyBZVTkf8g98hx86r4u2gAzV7oaFT7kTAVQGhxuwCO1NVb-DfpTVpxeizEihbqGFTE8hc4jjgrOGZCTVbbVuM1y_79upFJZqbuaDCP98klaw/s200/IMG_6077.JPG" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657542951888186226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPh_FIz836-7IYcSYahYlAvyKAW_leU0iFSFImjP7lPIuSIzMfX_DYp0F5pphGJ4zgkgHx41avW-lRD95weBG_Oatc3KAiK6uL7bS1OF4OW1GBsfUzLT6c2oByfVYhS7rggyVTbOxOhVQ/s200/IMG_6079.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657510086628100978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4XTIkqzZUgp2_4WIgHe-n_J2gTcmfTlVmlfyVzlFgVSDATkMG8In68gK2PWKKzCXDhTWjupEV9XvBdNfjomzqAMCwwj_8GCUZqdkGBK6Yk4RfTjg0emf8MsKTuFJaMGbYYahW8QHNxA/s200/IMG_6078.JPG" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657545999531365250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjhq5csKPw0VqV_9UJZv2fFFMLXd-FBjy0eRnZtvwXCE60Rf0lPHeHLOr50BI-EnDCB79XdpwLWPQX9hpq0BZPvlmHV_KOL6qQKMUQ7X4FAhpyL2rVr2DnvmRRljF9Lrqu3XBPKNIn58/s320/IMG_6089.JPG" /><br /><br />Judging from that last shot, I'd say the day was a success. :) Now someone please get that girl a cup of coffee...Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-18354077104772515082011-08-30T00:33:00.006-05:002011-08-30T01:03:46.146-05:001, 2, 3, 4<div>I love being a Mama... I really really do. There's truly absolutely nothing else I'd rather do with my life than raise my babies. Don't get me wrong... like all moms, there's not a point in every day of my life where my kiddos aren't driving me absolutely insane and I long for a few uninterrupted hours of quiet to myself... even if that only means I get to clean up my kitchen without being nagged for something that will cause me to have to mess it up again. Even with that said though, I wouldn't trade a single day of the past four years.
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<br />My Reese Cup made me a Mama exactly four years ago today. Seems I can't have a kid without there being some kind of dramatic story that goes along with it. For this one, it was the eternity that it took to get her out. Already four days past her due date, sunny side up, and she. wasn't. budging. From the time we showed up for our scheduled induction (8am August 29) to the time she finally showed herself to the world (11:27am August 30) 11+ people in both of our families had spent the night in the hospital waiting 27 1/2 hours for her to arrive. She finally did so, when she wanted, and without anyone telling her how she was gonna do it.
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<br />If you know Reese, then you know that not much has changed in four years. :)
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<br />Now this beautiful girl of mine (who I can barely claim as my own to look at her) is one year away from Kindergarten and I really can't tell you where the time has gone. Her imagination keeps me in stitches. Her brilliance and intelligence, well it shocks me so often at what she's able to comprehend. (The girl can spout off verses and chapters of scripture without blinking an eye.) I would be absolutely beside myself without her help each day now living with and taking care of two babies. She is responsible and able beyond her four years, and I'm so grateful to have her as my daughter. All that to say, she's still four... and the things she comes up with and says sometimes (insert story last week from April Willett) well, let's just say Lord knows I need a reminder every once in a while that she really is only four... :) I get really excited to think of how sweet I know our relationship can be as she grows older, and pray to God he gives me the wisdom to guide her little heart to love Him well as she matures. Oh how I loooove my Reese Cup. Happy Birthday sweet girl! I'm so grateful that you're mine! </div>
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<br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646525566310882002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQonH7SvbfCJ6VbxwgcPgCrGfGVeGc1hThf2KMopA0QljQV2aiw4j9uNTyOgerxBG6ZwcbiDHhuLGRy3cCpOgdX28oAGHHZtKk-HH-IY3UiDbj9h-IzKtYtdYbmxroLkNToE7RunQ4Ps/s320/2011-08-29+19.02.14.jpg" />
<br />Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-788569610295723682011-08-26T22:23:00.010-05:002011-08-26T23:36:32.236-05:00Thank You, Mr. CraigDear Mr. Craig. Not exactly sure of your last name, but I would love to meet you, shake your hand, and tell you how much I love that list of yours. I'm not quite sure why anyone would ever buy retail again after truly experiencing what you have to offer. You see, patience is not always my forte, but when it comes to you and your list my friend, you have always delivered. Every time. And at this moment I am enjoying the cool night air from the comfort of the loveseat out on my deck. As much as I love to be outside, and as the mornings and evenings eventually become cooler and cooler (at least I think they will... they have to, right?) I'm sure I'll be spending many of them right here.
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<br />I would be remiss however, if I didn't give a huge shout out to this guy right here...
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<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 194px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645379522655360754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-D1ttsniQZYXhr7t42GFwxb8-8jhsUZsiMU4NVvwZO21I3fQ6dO6XG8IQs3ABBTBJRSaoaRCpAMK8odtKkxsSjhB3MV5EYbUdETGnUA2hJDczGe24smjsSUdO-Rv6Q0lkD-wCPCX9Os/s320/n857059580_1736613_5154963.jpg" />without whom, none of this would've been possible, seeing how he was so generous to lend me his truck. Thanks Bobby Billy. I owe ya man.
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<br /><p>Those TSC staff peeps really blessed my socks off that day... cause on top of the wonderful truck lending generosity of our middle school pastor, a certain preschool ministry assistant who caught me in the act of trying to load carseats into the back of said truck came out to my rescue and suggested that instead, I let 'em hang out with the awesome ladies in the office for a bit...</p>
<br /><p>Really? Do you know what you're saying? I mean, we're talking about these sweet adorable little faces right here...</p>
<br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645383036817873202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhr6-QdJM0kvCQ4mXrflsPaKxfHYXYs-8ZtR_dqXsgPodY1ZR3rcq9fuQlYnsefPYlPkRk3dWMbduG6EZqQn7vnYCE_p9a6gpoL2PJAuvTgwiXW7NwEtHJT3HicpVcv0Y0ZDZyEdnHvQU/s320/reese+blue+icee.jpg" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645383891150861554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgF423-ksEKw5EjWRZUyJlYy2u6WUY7dX-SMgQCWrRammnH6HuErJKBaMvsC7cDFNl6VSnN1wWV4DppHmwbFmanUkD_8eW7lUCJKvs8JJ_uF22-CobmX2yFLy3sA5Hw0Afk6TQbgNA1rU/s320/2011-08-22+20.57.46.jpg" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645383977415961330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Iy5unjI0RN2Qx_GDUNaBMxKTdXjTFuoL6fXG0KivTN1g32HcariQCQ7PWQ43MkzPSNKCaB095MOwqEb1t629_Rfw6ueSlsNelLX-T7HsIFRHJVg4L1hKanQSfcVXP4g9_fNsEY17CIg/s320/tess+crazy+smile.jpg" /></p>
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<br /><p>Before you agree to this, please believe me when I tell you- you won't get <em>anything </em>else done while I'm gone. Here's your chance to totally back out on your offer. But you'd better hurry, before I run...</p>
<br /><p>But she didn't. Wow. And it was suuuuch a treat to handle this without kiddos in tow! So thanks a MILLION each to Amber, Alicia, Christy, Angela, April, Joanna, and anyone else that I'm unaware of and unintentionally leaving out for keeping my kids out of the heat and out of my hair while I fetched up my latest treasure. Y'all <em>absolutely </em>made my day. An invitation to lunch on my deck sitting in my new furniture will be extended to y'all hopefully very soon!</p>
<br /><p>Happy Weekend Everyone! Enjoy it!</p>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-78614084153430656672011-08-21T23:50:00.009-05:002011-08-22T00:54:51.164-05:00A New FaceSo I've been wanting to re-enter the blogosphere for quite some time now. Turns out, this afternoon's naptime demanded absolutely <em>nothing </em>of me but two and a half glorious hours of whatever the heck I wanted. After 45 minutes of craigslisting and searching every store's website known to man trying to find patio furniture that I wanted and could afford (to <em>no</em> avail, might I add) I became extremely frustrated with the amount of money someone thinks they can charge for CUSHIONS (for crying out loud) and decided I needed an avenue to vent my frustration. This led to a visit to my very outdated blog, and then the decision that it was indeed time to say hello again.
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<br />But first, a facelift...
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<br />A new title, (because since I stopped blogging I have gained two more children and lost all sense of quiet, control, and time to myself) and a new look (since I have become slightly obsessed with DIY, turning someone else's junk into something beautiful, and "cottage white" and would cover every wall in my house in white beadboard if I had my way.)
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<br /><div align="left">So here it is. And speaking of facelifts- what I did with my weekend...</div>
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<br /><div align="center"><em>Before: Found on an obliging curb awaiting a trip to the dump</em>
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<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550036605069410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhdeMktIMxzAfQ5JSo6Io3YBaG4IFZCAiEFX77XSQgmC9AaZnvyIpW1N0mE_Lzh6cisAVHbx4zFrgol8vbudBuSZi9_3_KZCNrd_ZbM_YbJDYncF1IyJSgOjmIG67pddVbAWHPrJhzt4E/s320/IMG_5937rs.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550042861439378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LrMYNBuccipaHHNZs-bNImixO7oDmVyOgPj1BAdcvxmTpllXHCK119g_6amJV8DekKNwISEraoGq_9BWfIT1ipyOytKh-khgaUSWFNJUw1_EaROMCrfKICTDNDsPg9tKiGYTaWAsQ-M/s320/IMG_5938rs.jpg" /><em></em></div></div>
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<br /><em>After...</em></div>
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<br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550039876663938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1eij_MGmWEFyPCyuLDucYWAGEePxiEv1Wu48ynDHcCUYWUs_6S9V73jpr2TA2_S4WFVhItkzlAdG7qn-jhG7aLC1UN8FyqbouJwlgc8xviqbmXkwev-2olQ7RMZ3J0XoOhl5CbZqGr8/s320/IMG_5971rs.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550042990522434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9RyECR4si1ci5BDB_PXb174RIxbkfxqcAC-9b-Ow9W6dc2VVT8coBDm7TnUXtw9G9QYudNB-X7MeFHFP4tVkE6TfmGyqv_QkdqYkxEopnm6KW_zL9BaH_6pBORXk0iU0blJ0CLs5ZDYc/s320/IMG_5963rs.jpg" />
<br />And my favorite part about this little project was the cost. $0.00 Absolutely zip, zero, zilch, nada... you get the picture.
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<br />The shelves were leftovers from my garage in our former home, and the paint was left here by the former owners of our new home.
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<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550048785061634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjCoYeaHtM2DE_CcfYLQLnAIoVyz4XnV1bM9gsT6uHVSDrX-1ur2IaInOHaEZ0lTAArYdzbb_MQHPAjMSs3Mktkw7rpGCL1IFoREkIKml1wXfVEVSprr6ZukAXXSd2ta-zKLOUF52bC4/s320/IMG_5970rs.jpg" />
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<br /><div align="left">It's sheer therapy, I'm telling you! Didn't even mind looking down at my feet in church this morning and admiring the white speckled skin on my toes from the splattered paint. :) Marks of a <em>great</em> weekend. Now if only I'd take the time to make the paint on my toenails look half as good...
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<br />And just as an added bonus...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8tsF7ov7gjdXl9DeaE3pKfNw1KMubGT6_edEvjbG24qpyi30wlrgjoLibRufT_GbzEhPxnNrYcO25GpvQiC3qL6rKulk3TEu1n03amnt6BIZvOi718sx3al0jMJhOiKlQhHdKaWMl7b0/s1600/IMG_5975rs.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643552574792054658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8tsF7ov7gjdXl9DeaE3pKfNw1KMubGT6_edEvjbG24qpyi30wlrgjoLibRufT_GbzEhPxnNrYcO25GpvQiC3qL6rKulk3TEu1n03amnt6BIZvOi718sx3al0jMJhOiKlQhHdKaWMl7b0/s320/IMG_5975rs.jpg" /></a>
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<br />Sweet girl sleeping off the Cowboys defeat in her Romo jersey. :) Love her... </div>
<br />Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-7623384635634574622011-02-17T22:50:00.004-06:002011-02-17T23:05:43.483-06:00Another run-of-the-mill, ordinary dayEvery once in a while, you have one of those monumental moments in life. The kind that just sort of stop time for a split second. The Lord does something in your life that changes it forever. You ask yourself if you're about to be a guest on the SNL sketch "Really?!? With Seth and Amy" And you just keep asking yourself Really?!? Really?!? (haha- I just love me some good weekend update...)<br /><br />Well, welcome to the past four days of my life. And let me tell you, past experience tells me that God is about to do something really HUGE here.<br /><br />I am Mama to a handful of a 3 1/2 year old girl, and a precious 9 1/2 month old boy who is just starting to come into and show us his adorable little personality. If you're reading this, you probably are already aware that said 9 1/2 month old boy was a hefty 11 lbs 1 oz at birth. Recovery took quite a while after delivering him, and getting rid of the extra "love" I've been carrying around has proven to be quite a task. <div> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574890918181825138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQqZSO2JTxGqqOIhzARJwlO50tYseUmjLaCrUSpkE-LXTWEwheLYe8ozNHPzI-gh8ncUgeGTaUTZaUoNQeDamU2ledxiCI-AIBCDKhXWvrLUUwkbLJdZkNiaakhMhiGl58h-1DmsBGcs/s320/piano+teacher.bmp" />I really got motivated to hit it hard after Christmas, though, showing up at the gym 3-4 times a week for the past 6 weeks, and feeling great. After the first month, however, I was becoming increasingly disappointed and discouraged at the lack of results I was seeing- in fact, I felt like I was moving in reverse.<br /><br />After a great run this past Monday, Valentines Day, and going through my routine on the scale and kinda trying to scope things out for any changes in things, I'll just be honest- I was ticked and just decided it was time to have a heart to heart with God. I'm working so hard. I've changed so much about my diet. Why are you not blessing my efforts?!? Augh!!! Am I doing something wrong?<br /><br />And then, a thought that had vaguely crossed my mind a few times over the past couple weeks, occurred to me again... Could I be? No, I'm still nursing Ty, and frankly it just doesn't add up...<br /><br />Then a thoughtless Mama remembered that she had not purchased any Valentines for Reese's party the next day, and a quick 9:45pm trip to Walgreens was in order. Just as I was about to head to the checkout counter, the thought occurred to me again. Ah, what will it hurt. Just buy one. What the heck, buy two. Put your mind at ease.<br /><br />And then...<br /><br />Happy Valentines Day, Dear<br /><br />R- "What is that?"<br />H- "What does it look like?"<br />R- (smile and a chuckle...) hug your wife and say "We're gonna have a baby..."<br />H- "No, we already have one- he's across the hall!"<br /><br />But just wait- it gets better...<br /><br />Fast forward to Thursday. Sweet little face pops up on an ultrasound screen. Holy cow. It's really true. And then the doc confirms even crazier news...<br /><br />"You're 5 months along"<br /><br />Congrats. You've missed the first half of it. Feel free to submit your story to one of those Lifetime "I didn't know I was pregnant" shows...<br /><br />So there you have it folks- we are pleased to introduce Wagoner baby #3... Due Date, July 12... give or take a week... who can really tell... But hey, we'll be able to tell you if it's a boy or girl in 2 weeks! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574888447920033874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGC2FjI5aoQD3g-NhzLamPqPUQ5ZQ7q9BOIgUKtbnrNmf04N1W0bn8GadRknOX1VbAg1eLJkNizfEZ10n3rTLq3A4r-kIfYBAyjNDB3SAgFvTxiDcLQCZk3TTxIzrODLCHOxFqVrXMr7o/s320/2011-02-17_21.20.10.jpg" />And when you finish picking your jaw up off the ground, you can come help me with mine. I think it may be there for a while...Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-30140914770142921192010-10-22T08:34:00.007-05:002010-10-22T08:56:58.449-05:00Six Months<div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530865879159969698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZwx9xD8jyhMNxncR7WyPeGsRG3oIAS6Edc5wIVq9bV6NMlQ6p-iopv-amv4rmZfMuMbr2yYaBO6FCPN_5KI8Ck_M1X3Uh6FpjpsSBwX018GDgmoRfHZ8oA5JQXIKQtu2IuJL_zL9mXk/s320/73502_453808419394_711209394_5129125_6799528_n.jpg" /> Don't let the adorable little smile on the left fool you. People tell me it's terrible that I call him "fat boy" but- c'mon, can you blame me? When he outgrows it, or starts to understand what I'm saying, I'll stop, I promise. Fat Boy celebrated six months on Wednesday. As sweet and precious as he is 99.9% of the time, this kid has a shrill shreik of a scream that would taunt even the scariest of wildlife living in the jungles of Africa. And all it takes to really set him off is for him to be about half asleep and ticked off about wanting food in the middle of the night.<br /><div></div><br /><div>We <em>had</em> reached a point where he was sleeping through the night. Then, as all crazy babies do, he grew again... (what is he thinking?) and for about 2 weeks now I have been up religiously again at 2:30, 4:30, and 6:30. (though to give him credit, sometimes he'd sleep through the 2:30 feeding. How generous, right?)<br /></div><div>I want to say to him - "You know that your sister slept through the night from the day she was born, right?!? Take a lesson!" (People told us that because of this, we weren't really parents the first time... lol)</div><div></div><br /><div>And I know that there are all sorts of people out there that think I'm nuts for not starting this sooner- but a doctor my family really trusts advises to wait to give a child anything but mother's milk until there is a presence of teeth because the presence of teeth indicate that the body has started to secrete the digestive enzyme necessary to properly digest food. So- while they haven't completely poked through yet... you can see they're <em>very</em> close... and Mama and Daddy's sanity is at stake... so here we are.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530866603864242994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOPLFq9Wu7tI9VGyyHwFJeS-dbw7ZSVUz6Hzx7iPfU91IBxkvyXWfusZYXJRLZL9VI_gvtzV4kZx4KF0CZ7l8wsc8OVu5kWtNJEL6Ot9LB737HZd6C6flG7Ral9BiBGiPelE0qvjQ5IY/s320/IMG_1973.JPG" /><br />And while I know you may have a hard time believing it... this kid took <em>right</em> to eating. :) And slept a glorious TEN hours last night. (Thank. You. Lord.)<br /><div></div><br /><div>And just so the Reese Cup isn't left out... enjoy a nice little giggle at what she and a couple of buddies conjured up after dinner last night. (Hope this little guy's daddy doesn't kill me for this- but he was ALL too eager to line up for this shot!) Love it!</div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530867964861626738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMpydB1fy7-ODCQL9YoLC28WaKows5_nuWCe3v3Yze4hKTNVYP7qXnyTCY-niJJd8nehq35COl3mLwFZqzErCdQi8QV2APoDJtf2qVhfxVbtvjftGXR1uhOlwCPo2wGEgN26Xlbk238Y/s320/IMG_1972.JPG" /></div></div></div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-36484863322598938312010-10-15T12:08:00.002-05:002010-10-15T12:12:07.769-05:00Allow Me to TranslateReese decided to write me a note today. When I asked her what it said, this is what she told me. (Feel free to read it for yourself.) :) <div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528321446550227122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJlxlROp9uJLZRsbnKVBVMl3Q6OAryE355ljdDHESRou8OAhIcw802bQQOefffravmRen-MtFTucQ1SnjqZ0QYShvy7RH544Ua1pKL6XzfSu7KptAGSHCH9SUB6qpcw-1eeuSg53OTaLQ/s320/IMG_1884.JPG" /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-38344103149057170622010-10-12T12:42:00.004-05:002010-10-12T12:53:35.412-05:00Bring on the CheeseCompared to the church that I grew up in, I am now privileged to serve in a ministry that is quite, what some may think of as "progressive"... Our theology is sound and Biblical, but our methods, well... we do what works for the area that we live in, and I <em>love </em>it. I am however, beginning to wonder what they're teaching our preschoolers about Christmas...<br /><br />Our three year old daughter came out of choir this past Sunday night eager to tell me all about the new song she'd learned from her teacher. Here's how it went...<br /><br />"Joy to the world, the Lord is come, let earth receive <em>more cheese... </em>Let every heart prepare him room, and heaven-n-a-manger sing, let heaven-n-a-manger sing..."<br /><br />As brilliant as this mind of hers is- we're still learning what's smart and what's not when it comes to getting yourself stuck in Mama and Daddy's footboard. This would probably make the 10th time I've pulled her out of this in a week.<br /><br /><div align="center">Just a little insight into the world of the Reese Cup. :)</div><div align="center"> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527218061355749986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhP9l6USRzM6CVbE_OONn2SzWbkrQO5cRO9x5qrgIfGFbC_Kvxd6KILowN31UD5CWW5_2zpyuJwtOVIyyMj9jV0OUwks4CrXRVtYgUxNVXd43llbOyll39NEvexE044Ux2pBwmvKgIKAo/s320/1012000814_0001.jpg" />Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-74575904088233485802010-10-10T15:47:00.006-05:002010-10-10T16:35:14.069-05:00An Attempt at Unloading My Brain before I'm Late for Connect Group...Well now... let me begin by saying this. It has been a pretty rough year and a half. It just has. Let me tell you something though... the sun is out. (you say- yes we know, Heather. It's October and it's 90 degrees. We know that the sun is out.) No, I mean- in our house, the sun is OUT! It is good to be a W in TN! <br /><br />But you know, sometimes my brain just frustrates me. I have so many things that God has taught me over the course of this past year and a half, and holy cow I want to tell someone that needs to hear it so that it can make an eternal impact on their lives. I just can't keep it in anymore, and I figured this may be a good place to start. Cause usually if I try to talk about it, it just gets all jumbled right about the spot where my neck meets my shoulders, chokes me up, and it never quite makes it out of my mouth very clearly. So frustrating...<br /><br />I've learned something about myself though- the Lord revealed it to me back in the spring. It's been one of those revelations that basically every shortcoming in my life gets blamed on ever since I discovered it about myself. :) Ready for it? <br /><br />I'm pretty sure I'm one of the most insecure people that I know.<br /><br />Even NOW, I mean this VERY second... I'm asking myself- is what I'm typing clever enough? Will someone read this and think "man, that chick is hilarious..." And then I come back and say "girl. Just think. clearly. don't let anything cloud your mind. type until your spirit says 'yep, that's what I was trying to say.'"<br /><br />Most of the time my mind gets so thick with concerns of every little thing going on around me, or of someone's opinion of me, that for a while it just become easier not to engage with people at all. Where church is concerned, it is far easier for my mind to make a b-line for whatever room my kid is being taken care of in, pick them up, and drive home to the safety of our four walls than to stop and have an intelligent conversation with someone.<br /><br />Surely there's a label for this, wouldn't you think? :)<br /><br />Couple this problem with being the wife of one of the pastors of a 2000+ member church, (who isn't afraid to talk to anyone at all) and let me tell you something else. Living a life of never feeling like you know how to act or being so afraid of what someone will say about you is ex-HAUS-ting. And absolutely fruitless.<br /><br />And I really wanna be finished with it...<br /><br />It's actually <em>very </em>empowering to realize and <em>own</em> the fact that I am a child of God, and that I can be completely fulfilled and secure in this relationship if I will just let myself believe it. Believe that at my fingertips are limitless resources of power from the Spirit of the living God.<br /><br />For the place in life that I'm in right now... I think about it this way. Let's say my realtor just called- they wanna show the house in an hour. The kitchen is a wreck because I'm in the middle of making dinner, my bedroom has no sheets on the bed, three baskets of clean laundry to fold, and two more piles in the living room waiting their turn in the washer, and my daughter is up to her beloved ears in dress-up clothes and toy dishes amidst every book, block, crayon, and puzzle piece that she has strewn around her bedroom floor. My 5 1/2 month old is screaming because of those horrible bottom teeth that just won't break through.<br /><br />But sure- I'll have my house clean and perfectly staged for you to walk through it in five minutes and then decide you don't wanna buy it. Bring 'em on... :P<br /><br />All of the sudden- my sweet husband walks through the door to my rescue. "Hey babe, got the call about the showing. Thought you might need some help getting everything together."<br /><br />You mean- I don't have to take care of this myself? I don't have to handle this load? You're gonna lead us through this crazy moment and save the day?<br /><br />Yep... my heart stops pounding. My head stops swirling. Four-letter words stop trying to make their way across my lips. And my mind can rest. Because I know that I don't have to do something my mind tells me is impossible, or if I attempt it, won't be good enough anyway. Because while I'm good at cleaning up the filth of a home- my man is waaaay better and faster at dealing with the clutter. He's gonna handle it for me.<br /><br />I. am. secure. The task is taken care of.<br /><br />I am the same child of God as every hero and heroine of my faith. The same power that drives their ministries is readily available to me as well. And let me tell you- that power doesn't come from me. It comes from the One who lives deep within me.<br /><br />Can somebody breathe a breath of fresh air with me?<br /><br />Folks- insecurity doesn't just make you look weak and unsure of yourself. It breeds sin. and hurt. and turmoil. and just plain devastation.<br /><br />But that's a blogpost for another day... and beyond that- it's time for Sonic and church. :)Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-3086718900745628262010-08-22T16:01:00.011-05:002010-08-22T16:41:49.624-05:00Eat Pray Love... Reviewed and Redefined...Wow, this movie made my brain swirl. I knew beforehand what I was going into... or had an idea anyway. A woman on a yearlong trip through one european country and two asian countries (Italy, India, and Bali) to "find herself" essentially... Even so, I just wanted her to get it. And by <em>it </em>I mean an answer. Well, not even just <em>an </em>answer, but <em>THE </em>answer. Probably because it was Julia Roberts. I don't know "Liz" at all, (speaking as if I know Julia Roberts... lol) but what American woman can't identify with at least <em>one </em>character Julia Roberts has portrayed in her sensational career... people just love to watch her on the big screen, and this definitely leaves nothing to be desired as far as her acting is concerned. ReMARKable performance. Two thumbs up, absolutely. Obviously if you're not as a big a fan of her acting as I am then you'll feel differently, but the sole fact that she was the lead role in this movie was all it took to get me there to see it. Needless to say I'm a fan, and speaking from a spiritual point of view- whatever quest her <em>character</em> was on... I found myself wanting <em>Julia</em> to find the real answer to what <em>Liz</em> was looking for.)<br /><br />From a Biblical perspective, any effort to give any good answers to the purpose of life or the idea of “finding yourself” was sorely wasted. (Not that I was expecting anything different.) The movie pretty much bombed in giving anybody any real answers, let alone the right direction to head in. Well, I’ll take that back- she set out on a quest to find herself, and she at least started by seeking to find “God”, though he is never defined as the God that I know my Savior to be, but rather leans more towards the idea of everyone being their own god... something is actually quoted as saying once he dwells in you, he becomes you, or some kind of nonsense along those lines. (The scene where she kneels in her bathroom and cries out to Him regarding her failing marriage- wow. The veins were popping out of her head as she anguished with tears flowing from her eyes.) But since this quest didn’t lead her to Jesus, well then... bomb. Liz can’t seem to be happy, no matter what she does... divorce, an extramarital relationship before the divorce is finalized... nothing gives her “peace” or gives her fulfillment... she’s not satisfied. Positive- she seeks out something “spiritual” to help her achieve it. Negative- nowhere near finding the one and only God who could truly satisfy what she’s looking for. (Let me pause for a moment to say that I absolutely could relate with this woman in this aspect of being constantly dissatisfied... and I very much disliked the horribly selfish person that it was making me to be. Not as if I'm working to change it because of something I decided that I liked or dis-liked. It's the amazing hand of God who will not let those that He calls His own be any less than everything He wants to make them... not and be happy anyway. Life is miserable outside of God's plan. I’ve been on a similar journey, but unlike this poor girl, I knew immediately where the Answer lied... I just had to make the effort to own it for myself and make the effort to be obedient to His word.)<br /><br />From the perspective of one who still endeavors to see the world... wow again. Especially the scene where “Liz” is taking a taxi through India. It maybe lasted a minute to a minute and a half, but the way the videographer captured the chaos of a busy city in this crazy country was incredible. I instantly felt like I was in the backseat of one of many Chinese taxi’s I’ve ridden in, except the chaos was times 10. My spirit was instantly oppressed, however, and burdened by what I saw in this country, and remained that way until her time in India was complete.<br /><br />Message behind the title... find these three things and you’ll achieve balance and peace in your life.<br /><br />Eat- (Italy) Seek and experience pleasure... fill yourself up with things that make you feel good, and nourish you, body, mind, and soul... whatever those “things” are. Here, in the end, they<br />were family and relationship. And great Italian food. :)<br /><br />Pray- (India) Find yourself... meditate... understand who you are<br /><br />Love- (Bali) Relationship; intimate human interaction and connection<br /><br />Obviously the middle one is what has thrown me into such a conundrum. Like I said earlier, I’ve battled a similar battle. I used to write off any notion of “knowing yourself” as some kind of new-age garbage, but I now whistle a slightly different tune. (Only slightly, mind you...) What I’ve discovered is that “knowing yourself” needs to be about asking God to identify your weaknesses... the places you are most prone to fail Him and dishonor His name, many times bringing the consequences of sin onto yourself and many times your loved ones... and then asking Him to make you acutely aware of ANY and EVERY time Satan rears his ugly head to try to use these things to attack you so that you are ready to defend yourself. (ie, using the Armor of God as found in Eph. 6.) Therefore, knowing yourself, isn’t about knowing yourself at all... but rather knowing God, and more specifically Jesus Christ, who YOU are in HIM, and the power that is available through Him to live victoriously. It’s the ultimate security. I am HIS... when you can truly own that for yourself, the security that takes over your mind is indescribable. It takes over every decision, every emotion... everything. I’m a daughter of the Most High, forever under his protection, and LOVED in the most COMPLETE possible way I could ever need. Nothing that any person could say or do to me, no matter who it is, no matter how closely knit my relationship is with that person, even if they hurt me in the worst possible way, can ever change my worth to Him or my place in eternity. This was indeed the missing message that burdened my heart for this woman.<br /><br />I actually really loved this movie. In many other places it made some really great points, and I’m dying to see it again... hopefully soon. Being able to see all of the places in the world that you’re able to see is really exciting to me. And Julia’s famous fun laugh and beautiful smile resonate in several different places... you catch glimpses of pretty woman and the runaway bride a couple of times... :) But it leaves an ache in my heart. It speaks SO closely to the heartstrings of what just has to be hundreds of thousands of women, if not more, in regards to the emptiness that they must feel when their life is void of a Savior... (though they misinterpret that void for something else... something more tangible.) They’re <em>going</em> to relate to this woman, whether through their own divorce experiences, or maybe a myriad of other addictions or heartaches that Satan has used to wreak havoc on their lives, and since this movie seems to leave you believing she’d “found herself” or her “inner peace”, then in an effort to fill that emptiness, so many are going to follow her example. I want to grab them all by the shoulders and invite them to know my Jesus. I’d probably ask them to redefine the title a little something like this...<br /><br />Eat- Seek God’s Word. I Peter 2 tells you to study it as if you were eating it up just like a newborn baby craves milk. It will fill you up and nourish your mind and spirit.<br /><br />Pray- Talk to God. Pour out your heart to Him. Ask Jesus to be Lord of your life, and ask Him to bring people into your life that will help you know Him better and how to live for Him. Then spend quiet moments listening to His voice. The Holy Spirit will speak to your heart and give you guidance.<br /><br />Love- Do just that... Love Him. With all your heart, soul, body, spirit, and mind.<br /><br />I’ve found then that the peace of God that is absolutely impossible to describe, will set up a guard around your heart and mind. The security you’ll find is so freeing. A victorious life is inevitable.<br /><br />Hmmm... my brain feels better now that all of those thoughts are on “paper”. But my heart still wishes the message of this movie would direct people to Christ...Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-89228441824292973552010-07-21T21:32:00.002-05:002010-07-21T21:43:20.551-05:00My Not-So-Green-ThumbI've done everything that's been asked of me in regards to "staging" my house to sell it. I've loved this house. If it had some more space, I'd buy it all over again. For some reason though, after over three months, we're still the proud owners. From painting over my beloved red kitchen, to taking down all of my family photos, to storing one of my couches to open up my living room, to leaving fresh baked cookies on the table for a potential buyer (and not to mention the cookies giving it that nice "homey" smell), I've done it all... or so I thought. <br /><br />According to my realtor, who is aparantly a feng shui expert now, I need red blooming plants in my house. Now I thought feng shui was all about the "flow" of your home... (whatever.) To quote her email, however, anyone who has placed red blooming plants in their home has sold it within a week of the next person that looked... At this point, I'll try anything. <br /><br /><div align="center">So... meet my red blooming plants.</div><div align="center"> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496553160818837602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvRfXDeDPlJisne72rm0hvpFA-pvP9NfxS_Qbw7zilia9wtcb7fWrA360FUMsKdIV37GhyQZ7Gn4EQlg8M6gqZfy_EMpDAwbgmiUCSy8ZmtqsdQYsWCmBadMF2mdiwVRayFWeKZwiwWI/s320/0721001750.jpg" /><br /><p>The problem is... my fingers do great things to your neck, shoulder, and feet muscles, a computer keyboard, and my piano, however- they've never been super successful at keeping these things alive. Thanks to lady at Lowe's for her encouraging advice... </p><p align="center">"Try these. They're annuals. They're gonna die anyway." :)</p>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-33103100562182602472010-07-18T23:36:00.004-05:002010-07-18T23:50:35.064-05:00Question for the Big Nanny...<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">So everyone knows that VBS starts tomorrow. I'm teaching theatre in the mornings, games in the evenings, and piano in between for a couple of afternoons this week. Dinners for each night of the week are prepped and in the deep freeze, ready to be thawed each morning and popped into the oven when needed. My house is cleaned and will be ready to show at a moments notice. I've spent the evening organizing my week down to the very last detail, and in the end, this is what will be assisting me in keeping my sanity...</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495473430866084130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_plBteJ8ajR0mmiHQQKth7tSM5RrrUUpJ7E0qEKr5XmIGtXngV1gItEUx-n_rO4AtLW-BwAOLONvfVfckejijqRwb483N4iNzgXLVZW6d5OF8sMP_U7XdogKtU6oZRAvS0hEWk_s9zE/s320/0718002341.jpg" /> <p align="center">Whoever thought of sticky notes for your desktop was an ABSOLUTE <em>genius...</em></p><p align="left">So (<em>cue musical intro</em>) my question for the <a href="http://bignannyshouse.blogspot.com/">Big Nanny </a>is this- (<em>enter <a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/do-i-make-you-proud-lyrics-taylor-hicks.html">Taylor Hicks</a> solo...</em>)</p><p align="center"><em>This is what we dream about, but the only question with me now... is, Do I make you proud??</em></p><p align="center">(Though I'm sure your desktop is much more decorated than my own.) :)</p><p align="center"><strong>HAPPY VBS-ing EVERYONE!!!</strong><br /></p>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-71221822959160640762010-07-16T15:24:00.004-05:002010-07-16T15:56:12.845-05:00Confessions of a Health Food Junkie<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494602941617170418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQx2JZFkwTNEC5yLYsaecSeoj6dN1qEMi0ezWIFeeAZsEKs3EKl-hrqsIqhK9n6F_KfK0z58kDG4wy8ATKjhmxwSfIsrol431CbWjSe8_D38scpScDeXee3ST9yaaXv0Z6X2hhAbbKsg/s320/0716001332.jpg" /><br /><div align="center">Does anyone else think it's weird that I got super excited over my lunch today?</div><div align="center">Starting at the top and moving clockwise, we have...</div><ul><li><div align="center">Watermelon</div></li><li><div align="center">Sweet Potatoes</div></li><li><div align="center">Quinoa</div></li><li><div align="center">Broccoli</div></li></ul><div align="center">Hi. I'm Heather. And I love healthy food. I spend my "nursing time" flipping between Food Network and the Cooking Channel, and get excited over organic cookbooks and cooking magazines. I could read them for hours. Today was the first time I'd ever made quinoa, and it pretty much made my day...</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em>Phew... glad I got that off my chest.</em></div><div></div><br /><div>On a side note- this just in from Reese... (I got her dressed today, but apparantly shorts and a t-shirt weren't enough. The leotard needed to go <em>over </em>the outfit.)</div><div></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494608406211196738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNjgrgZCFirYRYGvmSPX0s72gbaH05aRKHJ6kQya8DSpRt6au0ovxcQSwATobAtLXRvUDSpdg9B7Pwkwv8pcJUfgLPQqAvQ2bZ8vztM8Ww35PUoWpRWftKTromkvi1jo_vUBvFX7LezI/s320/0716001538.jpg" /></div><div></div><br /><div>"Welcome to Handy Manny's School for Tools. Today- we're learning how to make a <em>dress!</em> It will be SO <em>beautiful..." </em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em>(</em>I bet Manny would be thrilled to know what a great seamstress he is at our house...) :)</div><div></div><div></div><br /><a></a>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-9702490729628157862010-07-03T23:54:00.009-05:002010-07-04T00:08:57.372-05:00A Saturday Well Spent<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJGsc3_UFe4whqbdIV3i6NNwbGOtH5Esbr4RCv7icv2AcvT3u0t04gEJoYzv18wgiC8vmkDMNkaiJJW5eokGBM9HuuSMJHHbkF09pYMJtvr6GKx1DeFkd2uEMBEDBK9iiJqfKzcR47qY/s1600/IMG_0218.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489910677345264146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJGsc3_UFe4whqbdIV3i6NNwbGOtH5Esbr4RCv7icv2AcvT3u0t04gEJoYzv18wgiC8vmkDMNkaiJJW5eokGBM9HuuSMJHHbkF09pYMJtvr6GKx1DeFkd2uEMBEDBK9iiJqfKzcR47qY/s320/IMG_0218.JPG" /></a></p> I could very easily become addicted to this <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31OY-vLnC0xj-VEPJmYSFhnJiG6tax5jdEfRFHOvkKkPSpLHeOFhcN3QGHgr4p8A8M5uNvHzFOz0rh5FAfP_Asv-OlJ0-dzQLcbonvWDOvBGLaNcmWvBinh_E2IXu9mvLxulYXBoMyFY/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG"></a>game... And yes he beat me- but I had the lead after the front 9! (Somehow that's not the score that counts...)<br /><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5GgHVs-dnI-nrtP74Vw9HyQscRrgzps1mls8mRBBa9keI_HqW1jl7-UW8A30iBZ5R5aWGX9m_JejyciVZri0yO8j_NsD4sU_9KPnlunrgOsSmNfu7a3sy9WCpE6ZWar0OOE_TDGPxZU/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489912430024762770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5GgHVs-dnI-nrtP74Vw9HyQscRrgzps1mls8mRBBa9keI_HqW1jl7-UW8A30iBZ5R5aWGX9m_JejyciVZri0yO8j_NsD4sU_9KPnlunrgOsSmNfu7a3sy9WCpE6ZWar0OOE_TDGPxZU/s320/IMG_0214.JPG" /></a></div>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085105362217537088.post-84092899120674858282010-07-03T23:24:00.012-05:002010-07-03T23:47:07.162-05:00My Little Drama Queen<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfH3MhEGefRACDA0SSXlRmNgcTo4TBvCN-I9HUnxXbIDEeynp6iCKre6PyHSoHLtZ_2XzpFKQ8ezM-ZOKSxri0g2CNybialwnbq0k4ge22qjwv5vHnzxXIvcgGPUyAkIGamZJUMdvp1w/s1600/IMG_0177.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489905460084925890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfH3MhEGefRACDA0SSXlRmNgcTo4TBvCN-I9HUnxXbIDEeynp6iCKre6PyHSoHLtZ_2XzpFKQ8ezM-ZOKSxri0g2CNybialwnbq0k4ge22qjwv5vHnzxXIvcgGPUyAkIGamZJUMdvp1w/s320/IMG_0177.JPG" /></a> "Mama... I fink I just need to wee-wax..." she says, crawling into an empty tub with her clothes </div><div align="left">on...</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489904169575130866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8BnTh1tp89USlOdkJvid9DXdYpK97ghFIltNHN-IDOM3RjBQjClQ9iWQb9IT_xwrnEklKuq2F6tsGHAPzMRPhS5OZod3jvLRB3do6toi-VzwB-OVwU4Qq7fcNSOBTVuXFhyphenhyphenzy2Bl0TQw/s320/IMG_0180.JPG" /></div><p align="right">...tell me about it.</p>Wagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175050721592687779noreply@blogger.com0