tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433884546819672802024-03-05T21:40:52.971-06:00A Heavenly CallingA blog about my life, a journal for my thoughts, a time capsule for my memories as a woman, wife and mom.Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-45326081026689811062012-07-02T15:59:00.002-05:002012-07-02T16:03:48.254-05:00{the second birth} | part two(this is part two of the second birth story, you may want to read Part 1 first by clicking <a href="http://aheavenlycalling.blogspot.com/2012/05/second-birth-part-one.html" target="_blank">here</a>)<br />
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Wednesday afternoon was quiet and uneventful. My mom and dad told me I should go lie down, so I did. I remember watching a few "Comfort Measures, by Penny Simkin" Youtube videos and some relaxtion videos then drifting off into a relaxed dreamy state. I woke up to potty 15 minutes later, fumed about it for 10 more minutes, then went back to sleep.<br />
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I got up about an hour and a half later feeling rested. I remember looking around my room...it was clean and calm. It was peaceful. Will was asleep down the hall. My parents were in the living room reading. I decided right there, that "...after church tonight, I'll be ready. It's time."<br />
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My closet was a mess of over-worn maternity clothes, so I opted for a jean skirt, along with a sweater over a mustard tee and tied a bow around it that sat a top of my big round belly. I teased my hair, pulled it up into a messy bun, and put on some make-up.<br />
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*looking into the mirror down at my belly...<br />
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"I'm ready if you are. I'm happy to meet you, little one. I love you. Daddy loves you. Will...well, he's gonna love you too."<br />
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We left for church.<br />
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This time I only got one, "You haven't had that baby yet?!?" comment. (See <a href="http://aheavenlycalling.blogspot.com/2010/07/first-birth-part-1.html" target="_blank">previous pregnancy comments</a> because of being passed due). Pretty sure that's because we didn't tell anyone our due date this time around.<br />
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On purpose.<br />
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Well, after church, Tyler told me that Pastor was going to be out of town on Sunday and he was going to have the opportunity to preach that night in our church. I remember looking at him and saying that it was exciting but how sad I was to miss it, since "I was really wanting to have the baby on Friday."<br />
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He laughed at me.<br />
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I wasn't kidding. Well, not totally anyways.<br />
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Will and I hopped in the car and headed home. It was such a happy drive and a beautiful evening. The Moon was big and bold, full and clear. It was in the mid-fifties temperature-wise and I was ready for a night of sweet sleep.<br />
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We got home and I went to get change the pillowcase on Will's bed. As I stepped into his room, I felt a slightly wet and cold sensation. I remember stopping and thinking..."uhhhmmm. My bladder's not full. uhhh...?" I bent over and laid the pillow in his bed. There it went again. I went to the restroom to check to see what was going on and my underwear was definitely a tinge damp. I sent a hilarious text message to my midwife. I believe it went something like<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Just so you know... water may or may not have just trickled a little into my underwear. but I'm not sure. It didn't feel like pee...it didn't smell like pee...Uhhh...this is not a joke."</span></blockquote>
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<br />
Then I sent one to my birth photographer.<br />
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Then my best friend ("videographer").<br />
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Then my doula.<br />
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And then Tyler.<br />
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And then I ran to the bathroom and gushed out a ton in the toilet. But I couldn't stop it. It felt like I was going to the bathroom but I was sure that I wasn't. Definitely one of the most odd feelings I've ever been privileged to feel.<br />
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Tyler was home in a little while and he laughed when he realized I was sportin' Depends. Cautiously getting up into the bed, I decided that even though I was terribly excited, that I HAD to calm down and not get to anxious. I needed to sleep if this was to be the night. Tyler and I lay in bed, talking and smiling and ready for quite awhile, then suddenly I began to get nervous again. I started telling Tyler that I was a little afraid. He asked me what I was afraid of and I answered, "...everything. The pain. The fear. The tiredness. the <a href="http://aheavenlycalling.blogspot.com/2010/10/when-darkness-creeps-in.html" target="_blank">Deppression</a> afterwards." I began shaking with violent chills and sat up, scared. (We've since learned that I do this when I'm incredibly nervous or anxious about the unknown. I did this in my home when in labor with Will. We thought I was in Transition, but when we reached the hospital I was only at a 5.) Tyler told me to calm down. "Lay down and think about how happy we'll be as a family. I'm right here, I'm not leaving. You're ok," he spoke with complete calmness and sureness. After a about 10 minutes, the chills stopped, and I drifted into a deep sleep.<br />
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I woke up several times in the night to use the bathroom, but would always return to bed and instantly start dreaming again. I have to say though that every time I got up to go to the bathroom I was so scared that I was going to start labor while I was on the toilet. I have the most *ahem* how shall we say, "effective" contractions while in that position..."effective" and painful.<br />
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Well, we woke up the next morning and...nothing. Not even a hint of a contraction still. I texted my midwife and she asked that I go up to the BC at some point in the day and be tested to make sure it was indeed my water breaking. Hubs went to work and my parents came over (still having no clue what was going on, I should say) and brought breakfast. I put on my most comfortable/decent looking pajama pants and a hot pink maternity sweater and told my mom that I needed to go up to the BC for some vitamins.<br />
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She was none-the-wiser and I actually did need some more B-complex. I left. It was amniotic fluid. I came home.<br />
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Fast forward through a day of silent anticipation, mixed with feelings of uncertainty, and a little bit of "Come-on-lets-just-get-this-over-withness" and you have that Thursday. Tyler came home at about 5:15, dinner wasn't even started and I asked him if we could go on "one last date". He said sure. My parents had told us earlier in the week that we needed to try to go out one more time without the baby and I had nodded in agreement but didn't really think it was necessary. But at this point, I knew. I just knew this was it.<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I also knew that I needed a steak.</span><br />
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So we went to Outback :) yum. I got me a 6oz sirloin, and mashed potatoes, and vegetables, and we had calamari, and boy was it good! Oh ya, and my parents paid so it tasted even better. We spent the evening talking and holding hands and eating slowly, sans two-year old. And it really was lovely. I told him that I was finally, mentally ready, and I wasn't afraid anymore. I also told him that I thought it "might happen tonight." And he smiled, thinking I didn't really know. But I did.<br />
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We went home and my parents had put Will in his bed (after giving him gummi worms and ice cream, thanks guys) but he was still up, talking, laughing and singing to himself in psalms, hymns and spiritual songs, making melody in his heart. *random Ephesians 5:19 reference<br />
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They left to go back to my in-law's house where they were staying and we were left alone...with a singing two-year old.Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-16271742079531836282012-05-17T14:31:00.001-05:002012-05-17T14:31:32.460-05:00{the second birth} | part oneIt was time to expand our family and I was ready and Tyler was ready and really, that's just about all you need, if the Lord was ready. And was He. I crawled into bed on that Monday morning, May 30th, gave Tyler a kiss and smiled. He looked at me and said, "what?" and I answered with another smile, "I'm pregnant!" <div>
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Fast forward to the fourth week of August 2011 and there I was, sitting in the Keller office.<br />I was 15 weeks and so excited. Everything had been going well. Morning Sickness was slowly waning and my pregnancy acne was just starting. sweet. So glad my midwife, Anne, didn't judge. I listened to this heartbeat and my own begin to race. I'll never forget how sweet it sounded. The very first pitter-patter of a lifetime of love. I recorded it on my phone so that Tyler could hear it later. </div>
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The appointments increased and so did my weight. The acne subsided but the constant craving for any type of sugary goodness did not. My morning sickness was just about completely gone by the middle of my second trimester! It had lasted so much longer with my first.</div>
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At 22 weeks we had our sonogram. We were preparing for a <a href="http://www.gentlebeginningsbc.com/">Birth Center</a> birth with a Midwife instead of an in-hospital birth with Midwives, like last time. Nothing wrong with it, just didn't want the hospital experience. And since a very good hospital and an amazing back-up Dr. was less than 4 minutes away, we weren't worried. Our Midwife wanted a sono to make sure she knew about everything she could. Our baby was perfect. In fact, our sweet little one curled up into a little ball every time we tried to get a picture. We decided that we wanted the sex to be a surprise and the waiting wasn't so hard after we made up our minds. We heard it all, "Well, How will you prepare!? What if it's a girl!? You don't have anything!" Well, we knew the Lord would provide anything we needed and all of the important stuff had already been purchased when Will was a baby. So we weren't worried at all.<br /></div>
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Thanksgiving came and went. Christmas. New Years. and then suddenly, January was over and February was upon us. I was due February 8th, a Wednesday, and believing in my body's ability to begin labor on it's own when the baby is ready, I was going to wait. The Friday before that Wednesday I casually got on Facebook and announced that I had a headache for the second day in a row and how annoyed I was...</div>
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How blessed am I to have Midwife who cares enough about me to 'stalk' my Facebook in order to make sure I'm doing well? Pretty stinkin' blessed. I don't many doctors that would be my friend on Facebook, but even if I did, how many of them would watch my statuses and keep up with every little thing I said in order to care knowledgeably for me? hmmm...Anyway, Ann advised that I check my BP. So I did. And when I told her what it was, she remembered that my BP was usually very, very low. So for it to be a teeny bit above normal was pretty high for me. She told me to get some HSII from the healthfood store and rest. I did and the headache went away. I rested all that day and the next. Then came Sunday and a thunderstorm and let me tell you how many Braxton-hicks I had that weekend. Let's just say I was hoping my parents could get there in time. Earlier that week my midwife asked me when I was going to have the baby and I had said that I didn't want to have it until my parents got in (the next Monday the 6th). I remember her saying, "Well, we're not having that baby until next week then." I thought it was funny at the time, but with my BH contractions picking up from the thunderstorms and my parents not in from Florida yet, I was getting a little anxious.<br /><br />Well, the storm rolled through and Sunday ended and the next morning my parents got in. I was relieved, but still didn't feel like having the baby yet. I kept relaxing since my BP cuff kept reading high. And my mom made meals and my dad read books to Will. And we had a wonderful week. My parents respected our decision to wait and there was no pressure on this momma to have her wee one until it was time. I do think my dad was a little anxious, since my first baby was 10 late and my dad had to go to a conference in two weeks. But he never said anything to me about it.</div>
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<br />Monday passed, and Tuesday passed, and then Wednesday came and I went to my "due date" appt. with my midwife. They asked how I was feeling, if I was nervous, we went over my BP readings from the weekend. Still elevated but no threat. I decided against any exams, there's no point. They don't change anything. Why introduce bacteria and put yourself on an emotional roller coaster for something that may or may not happen within the next few days. Nope. No "call me now for your free centimeter readings", Miss Cleo. And so Ann sent me home with a smile and a hug and said, "whenever you're ready." </div>
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And I left with a peace and a calmness. I have to say that before this point I was worried. My <a href="http://aheavenlycalling.blogspot.com/2010/07/first-birth-part-3.html">first birth</a> was long (17 hours) and hard and pretty intense. And I didn't want that again. I didn't want to be afraid either. So I started "speaking truth over that fear" as my christian midwife told me to. I prayed and asked God to help me accomplish the task set before me and when I did I knew he listened. We headed home and I decided that I would be ready to have my baby by the end of the week.</div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-11788548118562780282012-05-10T14:25:00.001-05:002012-05-10T14:25:49.237-05:00Easter, 12 Little Chicks, and a grumpy two year old...Easter 2012<br />We had our Easter dinner & Egg hunt with the GP's the night before.<br />and with that said...<div>
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These are the <a href="http://youtu.be/wdBzzBrzvlA">"12 little Chicks" from Sesame Street</a>...One of his favorite songs</div>
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Easter-afternoon-not-so-nap. aka "Candy overload"</div>
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Anna was fine though ;)</div>
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This was supposed to be the sibling picture. l.o.l.</div>
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Happy Easter, from the Gillit family!</div>
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<br /></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-51268401177368526992012-05-08T14:16:00.001-05:002012-05-08T14:16:21.406-05:00He sat on her head...I have been busy...too busy. My pictures of life are piling up in files and not making it on here.<br />
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Anna is growing up so much. Her eyes are looking less and less blue every day. And more and more brown in the daylight. She is tracking us so well now and loving her daddy. He blows raspberries and it's her favorite.<br />
<br />
Will is growing up so big and strong. I keep saying the potty training will commence on a week where we're not so so busy...and then things pile up. and I buy more diapers. and say "this is the LAST BOX I buy."<br />
His favorite thing right now is the 'ABC's'. He will sing it until he is blue in the face. And he'll talk to you until you answer. And he'll climb onto you and smash your toes with his size 7 shoes in the process. There he'll sit on your legs and take your face in his hands and force you to pay attention to him. In fact, he tried to sit in Anna's lap the other day.<br />
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Let me rephrase.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He sat on her head.</span><br />
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And then I screamed- *ahem -raised my voice, so that he would understand the seriousness of him maiming her for life. He awkwardly hoisted himself off her tiny frame and smiled like, "What?"<br />
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This is who he has been lately.<br />
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She's an angel, of course...so far.<br />
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And now the most hilarious take from the past month.<br />
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<br />
He fell in his toy box...when he was *supposed to be* napping. Yes, I took a picture and then helped him. Bad mommy.<br />
<br />
Here are a few more moments I hope never to forget.<br />
<br />
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<br />Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-10165796296954895532012-03-23T15:27:00.001-05:002012-03-23T18:05:45.603-05:00and then I came home and cried...Yesterday was hard. No, it was really, <b>really</b> hard. I think I would've cried a bucket of tears if I had not been surrounded by people...namely, my friends. Friends with kids who obey them.<br />
<br />
And there I sat.<br />
<br />
Asking him to do something over and over. And did he respond? No. Did he obey? No. In fact, that's all I heard. "NO!" and then my faced turned scarlet in embarrassment and my heart ached like never before.<br />
<br />
Why did it ache?<br />
<br />
For plenty of reasons, actually. Because my child is turning into a little man. Because he doesn't want to listen. Because I was ignored. Because I was ignored in front of others. Because I was embarrassed about being ignored in front of others. Because I questioned where I'd gone wrong, what had I not done right, even wondered why I was trying, and then feeling guilty that I wondered why I was trying.<br />
<br />
Every mom goes through something. And it may not be this. Maybe you're child's quiet. Too quiet. Maybe their bully-ish. Maybe they are bossy. But even knowing that we all have our battles, I sat there on that beige carpet, surrounded by friends, feeling ashamed and so alone.<br />
<br />
And then I came home and cried.<br />
<br />
People will give advice and pointers and try their best to help. They'll give scripture and remedies and books and quote great authors. But when you're sitting there, a complete mess and ready to give up, all you can do it pray. And so I did... And to all of you sweet moms out there giving it your best and it doesn't seem good enough. Just know, it's not. But His best is perfect.<br />
<br />
Lord help me when the days are so long,<br />
and my temper is so short,<br />
and my eyes are tired, and my arms ache, and my spirit is sad.<br />
Lord help me when my flesh is stronger than my knowledge of You,<br />
and my tears flow more than the smiles do,<br />
and my heart breaks more than it laughs.<br />
Lord help me when I more like me than I am like You,<br />
when I'm less of the mother I should be and more of the sinner You redeemed.<br />
when I am more of what I am than what You would have me become. And help me as I teach <i>them </i>to be like You<i>,</i> to learn more of You <i>myself</i>.<br />
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<br />Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-58720134539256220632012-03-20T15:54:00.000-05:002012-03-23T14:06:45.262-05:00one month of AnnaShe is amazing. Ten soft fingers with nails that tend to peel as soon as they start to get long. Ten little toes on these rather long feet. Three chins, that take a little while to clean every morning and a short stubby body, unlike her older brother who was always rather long and lanky. Her inner thighs have smallish rolls around the diaper and she likes to sleep with her eyes open. A grunter and a snorter and likes the all-you can-eat-buffet of mommy's milk. I haven't painted her as lady-like but she really is quite beautiful. I don't know for sure but she has this beautiful auburn hair and these navy-grey eyes that are getting a warm hazel ring around the pupil... and seems to have a warm skin tone like her momma. Sometimes I feel like I'm looking into a mirror. Our baby pictures are so alike, except...she has hair. Thank goodness.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTWJaMTDTpBd-EAgKzkunDvA2esFuviMDiNwhxulOS4grUqIORNKZMcB3XKewqw-abc6ncdbxWvkQXnPivWhc_LKjws3TbcVzqZmtJZX6oT3zel9NfjSbTyQVbt-_wmXgK_msr81h2ok/s1600/FebruaryMarchAnna1mo+201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTWJaMTDTpBd-EAgKzkunDvA2esFuviMDiNwhxulOS4grUqIORNKZMcB3XKewqw-abc6ncdbxWvkQXnPivWhc_LKjws3TbcVzqZmtJZX6oT3zel9NfjSbTyQVbt-_wmXgK_msr81h2ok/s640/FebruaryMarchAnna1mo+201.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-57942600452815171772012-03-16T23:12:00.000-05:002012-03-16T23:12:38.042-05:00arms to hold<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is two years of age.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No longer does his body curl up like a round ball in my arms.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I watch this new one</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wrapped in this pink and white striped gown,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Her deep auburn strands shining in the window light,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I think, I need to enjoy it;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Every moment that I have.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Because he won't let me do this anymore.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He barely pauses for a hug,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One long enough to satisfy my aching heart.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Our time is so precious</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It is truly a gift.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Thank You, Lord</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Thank You for this gift</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Life and love and happiness is mine.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I don't deserve it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Help this momma,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My mind to calm</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And my heart to feel,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My arms to hold </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And love.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
All that You've given</div>
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With all that I am.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnhSy6-FieOSItSAyM-JyeOhTpIjLj-FnYXbhRXIyd2vdUipSAHlEk9zFqd2OV4OKOgzzaB0fnH0zmQ1vbfA7PSbz4sxjejOF3NCZTgAe0eY2BXgGhnnTSGihIy2UUFT92ndMk9Cx0cE/s1600/FebruaryMarchAnna1mo+146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnhSy6-FieOSItSAyM-JyeOhTpIjLj-FnYXbhRXIyd2vdUipSAHlEk9zFqd2OV4OKOgzzaB0fnH0zmQ1vbfA7PSbz4sxjejOF3NCZTgAe0eY2BXgGhnnTSGihIy2UUFT92ndMk9Cx0cE/s640/FebruaryMarchAnna1mo+146.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-44059808573360303982011-12-11T21:35:00.001-06:002011-12-11T22:34:02.056-06:00and this was our Thanksgiving...2 Grandparents, 2 parents, 1 toddler and a golf cart. A lake house, some big sticks, and lots of sand. <div>
1 pair of monkey pajamas, some markers, and a scrumptious sweet potato dish.<br /><br />Piling on daddy, talking to momma's baby, eating lots of turkey...</div>
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<br /></div>
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and this was our Thanksgiving.</div>
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Giving Thanks for 2011...</div>
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<br /></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-55997212758005691372011-11-30T15:24:00.001-06:002011-11-30T16:36:17.702-06:00He got way too many toys...<br />
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His party was a success...Friends and Family. Relaxed. Fun. Enjoyable.<br />
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I finished his Thomas the Train birthday shirt with the big no. 2 on it the night before, helped Gigi decorate and watched as my Mother-in-law transformed her kitchen into a blaze of beautiful and yummy foods. We had meatball & cheese stuffed poppers, pepperoni poppers, Mediterranean kabobs, fruit salad and lots of snacks. Our Pastor and his sweet wife (whom Will likes to call "Weaver") was there and some of Will's favorite adults (Kay-Kay- & Day-Day) were there along with friends to help celebrate.<br />
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We fellowshipped and ate and watched Will blow out his candles and ate and talked and ate and opened gifts and ate. And we were <i>going to</i> play games but I decided not to, so we just ate some more.<br />
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And really, had the best time in the world.<br />
<br />
He got way too many toys.<br />
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I feel as if I should donate. But I won't. I'll just save them and open them up a little at a time. And it'll be perfect.<br />
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He's so big and I have a whole other post on how big and how his actual birth-day went yesterday. But I'll save that and those pictures for another time...<br />
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But for now, the party.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even though it's basically a rescued photo and looks awful because it's one of the only one's I was able to get of Will and his Preacher, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">this next image is so precious to me. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. My camera has a part missing and I thought it was on the right setting when I took this but it wasn't. Oh well.</span></div>
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I love you, big boy, Will Haddon Gillit. -Momma</div>
<span id="goog_1618517954"></span><span id="goog_1618517955"></span>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-39530052601990920322011-09-19T11:57:00.002-05:002011-09-19T12:03:39.023-05:00a touch of sun| i heart faces challengeThis was such a fun entry I just had to submit. I love using a little bit of flare in ever shoot so it was hard to choose one favorite. This image is from a recent bridal shoot that I did with a sweet young lady named, Brittany. I'll be shooting her wedding this Saturday. It's my first wedding ever, so I'm nervous, excited, happy...all of the above.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"><img alt="I Heart Faces - Photo Challenges & Photography Tutorials" src="http://www.iheartfaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/I-Heart-Faces-button.jpg" /></a></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-41661293914183420222011-08-29T20:59:00.001-05:002011-08-29T21:04:12.358-05:00Sugars & Spice...and some dogs.Ya ever have that friend, the one that you love so dearly, that you'd love to just spend so much time with but their just not near you so instead you imagine spending the day with them and then send them a facebook message instead? Sure ya do. Just nod your head.<br />
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My sis-in-law Lauren, is that friend. She's always got a smirk on her face and some trick up her sleeve. She's bubbly and full of life, compassionate enough to help out a slug who's about to be salted, can be feisty if needed, the quintessential sugar & spice gal. I like her. And she knows it.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well, not too long ago, (Ok, too long ago. I miss her already) we went to visit Auntie Lo-Lo in San Angelo. Her and Uncle Timberly. And we had all sorts of fun. Including, but not limited to: running through sprinklers, playing with her pups - Rupert and Margaret, shopping in the historical area, eating muffins by the dozens,Will's first time eating frozen yogurt, playing real and imaginary instruments in the <b>Living Room Band </b>and lots more others wonderful-ness.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I have proof of course that this really did happen and was not just my imagination running away with me...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We love you Auntie Lo-Lo :)</div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-68104609530655007442011-08-01T20:22:00.001-05:002011-08-01T20:24:24.276-05:00Glad for friends<div class="MsoNormal">I’m so glad for good friends. Friends that help and not hurt. Friends that love and you can lean on for encouragement. Friends you feel safe with. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have some amazing friends. And while my husband was away on a missions trip to Uganda some of those wonderful friends opened their loving arms to me, kept me busy and refreshed my soul.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My buddy Heather and I took our kids to the library one morning for storytime. I don’t know that Will had much fun. I’m pretty sure he just wanted to destroy everything in his path. But I had a blast. Thanks Heather for an awesome time spent watching the goober at the library read books to our littles and *trying to make crafts with them even though I believe Will was more interested in stealing everyone’s crayons… And La Madeline’s rotisserie chicken and chocolate croissant :))) Ya. Thanks for that too. My hips are thanking me still. Love you Heather!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gxMQL5wGNvoi2XQsHbsBKqgmYL1U6-5R85kN2tbVb2wBmcRbKyMB-h1rxD9pOfVWPb5y_XSLQpkGu1KINojhN_Dku8XKjATiGjUD_nzcHGM4rs6-_lWOgOuuijaM8r02JYQ0BfE2_EE/s1600/%257BFunwithFriends-Andreas%2526Storytime%257D3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gxMQL5wGNvoi2XQsHbsBKqgmYL1U6-5R85kN2tbVb2wBmcRbKyMB-h1rxD9pOfVWPb5y_XSLQpkGu1KINojhN_Dku8XKjATiGjUD_nzcHGM4rs6-_lWOgOuuijaM8r02JYQ0BfE2_EE/s640/%257BFunwithFriends-Andreas%2526Storytime%257D3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSg3mczL2NwSe9-Do8PcxpOfzSHr3cUlzwgDLiknK1PDMt7wHWiLoMta2-u-fppHNS3t8335Maq6omNM-f6d8ATlsbidK7kLvUZvmVtzfglQBNs6xvoLyMhOIROuK3krMF2Sry_swHOjE/s1600/HannahNaked-WillPlaydates+239-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgppvZ4XLqPSCbLYa-VNDg7oo1B8CCLo5ql1L0F98YykyukcBCGVJaNt_vzBkbGn1EhmxggMeZokTRWbZBAxboiyEZbJMq8kbER9YtNYe_8gdvAgpI0VsYXvb41_Wjq5QwV9bmNljIEG7U/s640/HannahNaked-WillPlaydates+249-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Then there’s Andrea. She’s my goofy friend. The whole time you’re with her you laugh. You just can’t help it. And it’s not that she’s necessarily making you laugh on purpose. She’s just Andrea. And that’s enough.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Our kids ran through the sprinklers (Will mostly cried about them) and swang,(swung?) on the swings and drank out of the hose until water squirted out of their eyeballs. We talked about birth and laughed about toddlers and pregnancy and pee on the floor (and I have to clarify that pee on the floor had to do with the toddlers not our pregnancies). </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks Andrea for your patience, love and kindness. Your friendship to me has meant so much and came at a time when I really needed it. You’ll never know.</span></span><br />
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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSi5r7H6L5cBviknyJGsXb6bWYV6FQBvPfzviHGWJXGksFs5jGVy9TecEX2glMrGax6u2pkMveAyrMS_DOS8I2MGbthNghayajPF8f2WxLmFp5dkcJGsiu4_2ZjW8gsuJ7n-Y0chM5mM/s1600/%257BFunwithFriends-Andreas%2526Storytime%257D2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSi5r7H6L5cBviknyJGsXb6bWYV6FQBvPfzviHGWJXGksFs5jGVy9TecEX2glMrGax6u2pkMveAyrMS_DOS8I2MGbthNghayajPF8f2WxLmFp5dkcJGsiu4_2ZjW8gsuJ7n-Y0chM5mM/s640/%257BFunwithFriends-Andreas%2526Storytime%257D2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Thanks for the memories, Heather, Andrea, Brooke, Julia, Evie and Jasmine</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Love, Tori (&Will)</span></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-85295947614819560522011-06-30T13:59:00.000-05:002011-06-30T13:59:28.988-05:00Blueberry Picking<div class="MsoNormal">The phone rang and I answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend asked if we wanted to go berry picking and I said yes.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Tyler had left for Africa and Will and I were all alone. I truly have some of the best friends in the whole World, keeping me busy so that my mind would be off of being alone.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A few days later we were in a bus headed about 2 ½ hours away to a sweet little jewel of a farm, complete with blueberries, blackberries and catfish. Yes. I said Catfish. I’ll explain later.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We picked and picked until our hands were sore. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until our children were sweating bullets.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until our sunscreen wore just about off.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until I thought I might pass out. From listening to Will cry. Because he was so hot.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anyway. We had the best time ever picking the berry bushes clean then broke for lunch and headed down to a small pond filled with the ugliest catfish you've ever seen. Will sat and watched them for a good long time. Some of them came so close to the shore to get our fish food that they got stuck and had to use their bellies to scooch back off into the water.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We had a wonderful time and I got a half gallon of blueberries, (that my sweet friend Heather helped me pick :)Thanks, Heather!)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-76052813304616209852011-06-06T13:00:00.000-05:002011-06-06T13:00:11.131-05:00splashlandFirst time ever at a splash park and I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought we were going to the park, hence no swimsuit or towel. I borrowed a friend's 'little swimmers' diaper for Will and rubbed him down with her sunscreen. His onesie sagging at the bottom and arms held tight at his chest for balance, he was off and ready to discover "splashland".<br />
<br />
The wind was whipping around like it was trying to blow every kite in the world off course. Picnic lunches and laughter were swirling amongst the strong winds. Babies napped in play tunnels and guacamole stuck to cheeks.<br />
<br />
And I was there...with my camera. So glad I brought her along :)<br />
<br />
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</span></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-3038172246087223202011-05-20T16:13:00.001-05:002011-05-20T16:17:13.890-05:00Eating me outta house and homeSo he's finally decided to walk from one place to another. Granted, it's short lived, but it's something different.<br />
I am just amazed that in a few short months he has grown from laying peacefully in my arms to completely ransacking the house, playing in the toilets and getting cracker crumbs on every inch of my rug. He's disgusting, but in a cute way :)<br />
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He's been putting away the food too. HOKEY CHICKENS! I will say this, I'm just glad we don't live in a gingerbread house. 'Cause I'd be rollin' up in the Wal-mart parking lot and heading to the camping section to buy a tent. really. he eats more than I do.<br />
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This collaboration is a collage of two events: one, a Monday at home with daddy where he begged for a cracker (rice cake) for almost an hour and finally got one (after just finishing a huge lunch) and two, yesterday where he decided to eat 3 man-sized bowls of Cheerios and drink water from my glass. that was sitting. on the coffee table. so I guess he thought it was his? Anyway, he knows how to drink from an adult glass now...sort of. I only fill it up 1/3 of the way. Overall, you will notice that the kid is eating in every picture...if not, he's crying. Probably because he's not eating.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMR1PbevQyGPJIv0cP81zKRfDht6qQ5izKGKfG2jrI_Sw16dGt1lQt4XFxfo6ywDz3S4vcP2pV3n2T1Lre3OJQdyO0q6WuXfLqv7GzBobsiOKGk44Cu9Vw_th-hrc5arc8EV1o477FVLE/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMR1PbevQyGPJIv0cP81zKRfDht6qQ5izKGKfG2jrI_Sw16dGt1lQt4XFxfo6ywDz3S4vcP2pV3n2T1Lre3OJQdyO0q6WuXfLqv7GzBobsiOKGk44Cu9Vw_th-hrc5arc8EV1o477FVLE/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+016.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp570JiXsZemv2tCBqjIajmSA-iucKgdqUqqGmKjOMfXP-x7g3r24xSmPZznnE1UDnR7qLuWBLIVnUgMiICD6qfMiM58uyXF50Vg5bC3eGQcK7n7Td4sHRCFtQooRg2Kd8-P-E7qJDBeA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp570JiXsZemv2tCBqjIajmSA-iucKgdqUqqGmKjOMfXP-x7g3r24xSmPZznnE1UDnR7qLuWBLIVnUgMiICD6qfMiM58uyXF50Vg5bC3eGQcK7n7Td4sHRCFtQooRg2Kd8-P-E7qJDBeA/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+008.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Tyler helped out a little with the first few, love that guy.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNT2x4a1uWx6A-dpBQ1zOoMBaAUl5ZXi1RIqi4CS9JD-kgL82o5Am2H3H-QreM1S_h6xuGwiXXiNxl7HYM2GyEsJI4UTgVti9SzBW_92Wek6R0mPwk8Gl2bdhgJPZ0AxPMgH-wPJFj6M/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+020-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNT2x4a1uWx6A-dpBQ1zOoMBaAUl5ZXi1RIqi4CS9JD-kgL82o5Am2H3H-QreM1S_h6xuGwiXXiNxl7HYM2GyEsJI4UTgVti9SzBW_92Wek6R0mPwk8Gl2bdhgJPZ0AxPMgH-wPJFj6M/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+020-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZb3_KOmh3gm12xUOW8LqAMd6xRySg2WDMHgvcxgdBaUjNvHP0O7PdilOI5ucQOc815UXMowZMiRt9usMtfePExhRkg1acLJqUmDH-Jy5mTl4bfvW31Uf9IqpBRTrmN0ziab4qwXFFCw/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZb3_KOmh3gm12xUOW8LqAMd6xRySg2WDMHgvcxgdBaUjNvHP0O7PdilOI5ucQOc815UXMowZMiRt9usMtfePExhRkg1acLJqUmDH-Jy5mTl4bfvW31Uf9IqpBRTrmN0ziab4qwXFFCw/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+026.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZEI_OpclPJpQNfpCQCv6WpY1VueH4sJ2UbjlPH-bAxlGVs4AZE77wHdoPsVPDA74h221GBCRc0ZsNrIL1q8nJFr4qJGWia8uz1AZz34vQ2gnZ_KW3zFmaEmiUjCoOlBdZmXKx0sfz0E/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZEI_OpclPJpQNfpCQCv6WpY1VueH4sJ2UbjlPH-bAxlGVs4AZE77wHdoPsVPDA74h221GBCRc0ZsNrIL1q8nJFr4qJGWia8uz1AZz34vQ2gnZ_KW3zFmaEmiUjCoOlBdZmXKx0sfz0E/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+031.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Drama for his mama.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nMm0B3l18yZs37fxwkTf2ldFm_ewOFLX5FXNdVNejgVamNUZeBzry3al8ZC_UXZJFTvLYynRDg2bHSF3Fz1T5v5EMIbAan9rMo0K-v-T1HisD6U7R2fgjNVlPf-gVz99m_Xyl-ou0Qo/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+028-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nMm0B3l18yZs37fxwkTf2ldFm_ewOFLX5FXNdVNejgVamNUZeBzry3al8ZC_UXZJFTvLYynRDg2bHSF3Fz1T5v5EMIbAan9rMo0K-v-T1HisD6U7R2fgjNVlPf-gVz99m_Xyl-ou0Qo/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+028-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3U-Cenu8r5M6_i7_Pg_DD3of7Jd2WFWwd0VM-yW_13eCYCgxg4SUcZK3x2Kd5MCrd8__0SoDpclKQeqssUjTR2y0TSD1d6FeSOuDzqL9XfVr7nLY16kwmidov9mXO3GlMeq6XMcS5xr8/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3U-Cenu8r5M6_i7_Pg_DD3of7Jd2WFWwd0VM-yW_13eCYCgxg4SUcZK3x2Kd5MCrd8__0SoDpclKQeqssUjTR2y0TSD1d6FeSOuDzqL9XfVr7nLY16kwmidov9mXO3GlMeq6XMcS5xr8/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+032.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-C7hysEIMPTneMjPCLuZzbZ6vbBlygQFmesFfqYb0yTT4G5CTjaMVK07Mxb5ZC1HSEVsN3vBSYHoRYsS6hYUKMPyUBNOFhGRC8ewY7OisDtDcnAFaKtT6_mWIYqWrSmgAKGJ1wRsdgI/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-C7hysEIMPTneMjPCLuZzbZ6vbBlygQFmesFfqYb0yTT4G5CTjaMVK07Mxb5ZC1HSEVsN3vBSYHoRYsS6hYUKMPyUBNOFhGRC8ewY7OisDtDcnAFaKtT6_mWIYqWrSmgAKGJ1wRsdgI/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+036.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xFLkC6xeF3BLrQfUwTiH6i_Hxlhv72FwCC5SaZUPofNaKtFHXO2cKfzSHVHvoa2sM54kK1t1MfKCZ-o9Mvu4mGI0vPE1soL0ZS9ThyphenhyphenHdDZMEhBS8XXC-N9yIVvLmNXc_c8zYTZnRpr0/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xFLkC6xeF3BLrQfUwTiH6i_Hxlhv72FwCC5SaZUPofNaKtFHXO2cKfzSHVHvoa2sM54kK1t1MfKCZ-o9Mvu4mGI0vPE1soL0ZS9ThyphenhyphenHdDZMEhBS8XXC-N9yIVvLmNXc_c8zYTZnRpr0/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+034.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Zl_nxaHcS4rMwpUpfZhSmcqRmEJkBJdJlLwuhoILALzpyorgp-BufUc5lJvxXvFp23aW7lm6AN22eJzTWgt6NHtQsELWFt4l5fCnv4eXJt4NQtYuO5Nbz1BMP-dg8M9k8B7FqNt7cqA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Zl_nxaHcS4rMwpUpfZhSmcqRmEJkBJdJlLwuhoILALzpyorgp-BufUc5lJvxXvFp23aW7lm6AN22eJzTWgt6NHtQsELWFt4l5fCnv4eXJt4NQtYuO5Nbz1BMP-dg8M9k8B7FqNt7cqA/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+037.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRaVvL2cl0ET9_8ZpGxpSx-8KjNi4zTaP5_fG0KuIn0eb_mEZrcEGLhLl8KB_2w71uv715nL9ul13DbmQ6vrQvBGl1NJn4uEEWjyU1P-SSr5WbqAfNQDNbG-LAPIDyqleMx-nRhps8XM/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRaVvL2cl0ET9_8ZpGxpSx-8KjNi4zTaP5_fG0KuIn0eb_mEZrcEGLhLl8KB_2w71uv715nL9ul13DbmQ6vrQvBGl1NJn4uEEWjyU1P-SSr5WbqAfNQDNbG-LAPIDyqleMx-nRhps8XM/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+038.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">This face...ohmycute. Check the tear glistening on the right :(</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQKtjuJaSI0DgShY_fr6AjlNYWM4p-EZ433vrYaLtEmaMJ9_2rH746JVhuNDiOF9h3LmgQRD4BL9HDvIeAGfR09LNhbYbQTskwCmSSOF1uPiNAZcGhRXai7Y_ioiUB2PugndtK2T6S2w/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+039-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQKtjuJaSI0DgShY_fr6AjlNYWM4p-EZ433vrYaLtEmaMJ9_2rH746JVhuNDiOF9h3LmgQRD4BL9HDvIeAGfR09LNhbYbQTskwCmSSOF1uPiNAZcGhRXai7Y_ioiUB2PugndtK2T6S2w/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+039-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJEzLvN99ybZnSPfcKTcSJOkbBw_zDZO2pMOX_gioDU8WUqqQpKFZBkT9zKdH6wfKBuDn52uYtM7hNAMtpg9o9LmNeJW__oIFPeLCUx6YMGVR0AsvvAWPeD4UzQCLefNt7UOnNAlv72U/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJEzLvN99ybZnSPfcKTcSJOkbBw_zDZO2pMOX_gioDU8WUqqQpKFZBkT9zKdH6wfKBuDn52uYtM7hNAMtpg9o9LmNeJW__oIFPeLCUx6YMGVR0AsvvAWPeD4UzQCLefNt7UOnNAlv72U/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+040.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc7vQOEKsrNohN4GuQocph3xRbWtjgxooGYAQRDN2aU2sh_YMIhBU1w7kVG8cQzHQ4Bih-JvoSelWm4l4K6yt5f7_tuN8FOec1sV6xZ9_4GvL9JXrhRxZDNe73tXdj30I1h0eOlWfC2Q/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc7vQOEKsrNohN4GuQocph3xRbWtjgxooGYAQRDN2aU2sh_YMIhBU1w7kVG8cQzHQ4Bih-JvoSelWm4l4K6yt5f7_tuN8FOec1sV6xZ9_4GvL9JXrhRxZDNe73tXdj30I1h0eOlWfC2Q/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+041.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">He decides that he is, in fact, happy and wants to share his "cra-tter" with me</span>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTNPBC-K5FTw6MaGv546Jkb1V0xVVcWEsS0shacI7oXrkMfcPF4Hf_FLcR5SMIZJ0pkpn08NJzWS0AdrOFPeTrK2jKBwoCfdRt7kB4HkReiZZ18Ha_vB4P9L84R_h-9bo9HnbnzKEIFE/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTNPBC-K5FTw6MaGv546Jkb1V0xVVcWEsS0shacI7oXrkMfcPF4Hf_FLcR5SMIZJ0pkpn08NJzWS0AdrOFPeTrK2jKBwoCfdRt7kB4HkReiZZ18Ha_vB4P9L84R_h-9bo9HnbnzKEIFE/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+042.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKdIIsOzz9z64ydF6q-2V2VYQfUZzN9EA1Dnw0MiQo8rXvecj2SQcl10ysX-bGPb30QJCwciCrNMMCfSCfya_pkDU3Q28QO1qaSYwPmibudoVKvvmwADxc_yP1cdEhsFrQkzoQ3Hbbe8/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKdIIsOzz9z64ydF6q-2V2VYQfUZzN9EA1Dnw0MiQo8rXvecj2SQcl10ysX-bGPb30QJCwciCrNMMCfSCfya_pkDU3Q28QO1qaSYwPmibudoVKvvmwADxc_yP1cdEhsFrQkzoQ3Hbbe8/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+046.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzm53XgvsTQgqVoH3IgTQnYY2XF1_jKtWXMnds5JNSI-hQAkYOl9ZxNdTWcipkCAGsFLc1u1uJpOOw9aX7y6gi2ygcBE59HcxcsEevyjv22el9PTMu6FyqlPzc0bvk8oD202y8_Ck2SZ4/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzm53XgvsTQgqVoH3IgTQnYY2XF1_jKtWXMnds5JNSI-hQAkYOl9ZxNdTWcipkCAGsFLc1u1uJpOOw9aX7y6gi2ygcBE59HcxcsEevyjv22el9PTMu6FyqlPzc0bvk8oD202y8_Ck2SZ4/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+047.jpg" width="640" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOpM7zmiOzlPuhoF2QSC6bbcfeMw11tPAygtaRKaACMD_4rarscVen11MJ1YeJ1AnBAfQqawyxvYiT5TkXE63srNqe0bb_jkcSzf2x2_6x6BszP_8AAj1MrfpEwmzOYt5j4fPFxyPWL0/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOpM7zmiOzlPuhoF2QSC6bbcfeMw11tPAygtaRKaACMD_4rarscVen11MJ1YeJ1AnBAfQqawyxvYiT5TkXE63srNqe0bb_jkcSzf2x2_6x6BszP_8AAj1MrfpEwmzOYt5j4fPFxyPWL0/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+050.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vbNTXFweSBvLde7JxzvzD9GZnZ-ecvTrwH3sPT0V6uI3IwCGlEeO5oBTuJHwTXjWPaK5x8twF1qVnOZn7ieVTlul33qdh9Zo5UxVJGb1gfQt8_5hE58uMLz9x82weYzxucW2k4zYeak/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+051-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vbNTXFweSBvLde7JxzvzD9GZnZ-ecvTrwH3sPT0V6uI3IwCGlEeO5oBTuJHwTXjWPaK5x8twF1qVnOZn7ieVTlul33qdh9Zo5UxVJGb1gfQt8_5hE58uMLz9x82weYzxucW2k4zYeak/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+051-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyW2fhpyrNCF5ZuxhAU6yJC6iZLjGpYRgWL_soN_pGfBslKDIYiE5Af7KmLdHa9PzrTSbetrz2XPjeMLUqeQAI7oz3HFs4Wla-gcJZRzjbvn5FwL7DJhaaiJuM9yDMbf34dbVJP2zXQSA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyW2fhpyrNCF5ZuxhAU6yJC6iZLjGpYRgWL_soN_pGfBslKDIYiE5Af7KmLdHa9PzrTSbetrz2XPjeMLUqeQAI7oz3HFs4Wla-gcJZRzjbvn5FwL7DJhaaiJuM9yDMbf34dbVJP2zXQSA/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+054.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkCf5YR9_uuVw2jhndJnHfFW8qlnzA-OCIN9bjNZbMuJqVmi85h9AWDhDcm7OM-mspg03Zm9Vt9r-DFIp7EecgwPeXxMUxN9d8ZoVZs7ks8L5Kt93-9kcrhQ1bW7mpoLfMRtSmII38r8/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkCf5YR9_uuVw2jhndJnHfFW8qlnzA-OCIN9bjNZbMuJqVmi85h9AWDhDcm7OM-mspg03Zm9Vt9r-DFIp7EecgwPeXxMUxN9d8ZoVZs7ks8L5Kt93-9kcrhQ1bW7mpoLfMRtSmII38r8/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+060.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGA0IB_Rt6DBZtebuqJesS-opUSSUfaM6K574MLZZPWRqi3d7uiYW4jvyKA16a4EsfyuHg0HUbYD4p61OKtajlwjooH4rcH4VCgOXOn3JYaBEZ73LPO-FbrCRQRm0TEBGf9h6n-fwIy4/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+061-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGA0IB_Rt6DBZtebuqJesS-opUSSUfaM6K574MLZZPWRqi3d7uiYW4jvyKA16a4EsfyuHg0HUbYD4p61OKtajlwjooH4rcH4VCgOXOn3JYaBEZ73LPO-FbrCRQRm0TEBGf9h6n-fwIy4/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+061-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">"I LOVE my Cra-tter"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SWsg-MvnsDLoaQgssvoUlZMWt9V4GPHSvw5ZVKUFqSQvlm4Xf0Jsh5F13AWAbnOfRtrAIDbVPA0xhBq20oe0giLsyhzxHdxPaVhbCblrhcZqkmUmTVV-WsEkdx3l0F8w6MzaPYJ6HLg/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SWsg-MvnsDLoaQgssvoUlZMWt9V4GPHSvw5ZVKUFqSQvlm4Xf0Jsh5F13AWAbnOfRtrAIDbVPA0xhBq20oe0giLsyhzxHdxPaVhbCblrhcZqkmUmTVV-WsEkdx3l0F8w6MzaPYJ6HLg/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+062.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">"You want some, Dad?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH1UK8u9xh_ByUUT64-gCxci6lVEeLVwj8z1irTHuL2U24FhaYdzRqCIWIcwnfCciQPtuRSpfzDLBIvD49h9WGtcFz18Q4FHPVwRp-nwmcC3hjmne8pPUB596KrUJFC_4R1sE67gJaKI/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH1UK8u9xh_ByUUT64-gCxci6lVEeLVwj8z1irTHuL2U24FhaYdzRqCIWIcwnfCciQPtuRSpfzDLBIvD49h9WGtcFz18Q4FHPVwRp-nwmcC3hjmne8pPUB596KrUJFC_4R1sE67gJaKI/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+064.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVZjaerc3YtHBaTurF8nyIUB_0tKXLKMgf7i03jIeXDMfieWBB4kvT40scxZ1GQqPKYvtqMunUJxK1WT9H06zUrWiFqNp1CnFjVx3s_UHIfybUzajdlIIfWQP6vaJhK3AAc1uNihCwW8/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVZjaerc3YtHBaTurF8nyIUB_0tKXLKMgf7i03jIeXDMfieWBB4kvT40scxZ1GQqPKYvtqMunUJxK1WT9H06zUrWiFqNp1CnFjVx3s_UHIfybUzajdlIIfWQP6vaJhK3AAc1uNihCwW8/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+065.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">That's his cutie little tushie from under the coffee table.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5n7sfu0Zzl48eP8IvwRxO-cV4j2EZnR-guIGZZ7Qpv7wYR0j93nmjCKh0joAxYe8PMLeNUz3i4XPg0bZEKJa8EATcOhA8w7hz_O8cY83HlKWzhlHYOT6JvJvssX9MDeJ7792WRE2PwA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5n7sfu0Zzl48eP8IvwRxO-cV4j2EZnR-guIGZZ7Qpv7wYR0j93nmjCKh0joAxYe8PMLeNUz3i4XPg0bZEKJa8EATcOhA8w7hz_O8cY83HlKWzhlHYOT6JvJvssX9MDeJ7792WRE2PwA/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+066.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Wow. After that, I know. Can you even handle anymore??? Ok then. You asked for it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-ml16T-9817h1IujOVg6h0kX52PP8q65bLk7wkDF40dBcLvhFnFO1KiEIlvKwiv_HoRTwoziVSbG0lki6v6cs537yobvUbXjQjwgo0NrJtwVoTP7Tz2yYk-zVk4iIKwFkwVxuCpS9NA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-ml16T-9817h1IujOVg6h0kX52PP8q65bLk7wkDF40dBcLvhFnFO1KiEIlvKwiv_HoRTwoziVSbG0lki6v6cs537yobvUbXjQjwgo0NrJtwVoTP7Tz2yYk-zVk4iIKwFkwVxuCpS9NA/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+067.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3CkbMFdn9VYpJD0CGw729RN7bl3ExZ_fKPyifA8c5c1bQGZzfrrYJiwww09qHqFYZXffGgRTuTLE1GuNm-fsmano36rdpPQ6MrQcLInUCU9b9G624vLVi08LId3y8oOM2nnqBn3b_s8/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3CkbMFdn9VYpJD0CGw729RN7bl3ExZ_fKPyifA8c5c1bQGZzfrrYJiwww09qHqFYZXffGgRTuTLE1GuNm-fsmano36rdpPQ6MrQcLInUCU9b9G624vLVi08LId3y8oOM2nnqBn3b_s8/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+068.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"> Not only does the camera love <i>him</i>, he loves the <i>camera </i>;)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQh0igSqtMT1g8TOExZ9i6KjRWHBWjT3eza9truFFDsfNhQ8uf-05P6d2ZWW6LAPO0NaPCXsf3SZ41pTBT4M8FXnArw5U3DNu5McUZXPaZkLqyCvll_kWG4ui2D4gJ7jwg2dDQD5oBfU/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQh0igSqtMT1g8TOExZ9i6KjRWHBWjT3eza9truFFDsfNhQ8uf-05P6d2ZWW6LAPO0NaPCXsf3SZ41pTBT4M8FXnArw5U3DNu5McUZXPaZkLqyCvll_kWG4ui2D4gJ7jwg2dDQD5oBfU/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+070.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vYYjDxG6ySgwhDlPM1ueNlxhE0mVvDLIM49Pk_ho7PKctd7tPBwnXxCz-lFMErruAhmwqRJBOCAYgwaJA_HFCgAX5YC39slq8EB8naeL-qZc6uQrOLHKuLv1W4YA6PRz4VxTR-Z6pP4/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+073-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vYYjDxG6ySgwhDlPM1ueNlxhE0mVvDLIM49Pk_ho7PKctd7tPBwnXxCz-lFMErruAhmwqRJBOCAYgwaJA_HFCgAX5YC39slq8EB8naeL-qZc6uQrOLHKuLv1W4YA6PRz4VxTR-Z6pP4/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+073-2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vYYjDxG6ySgwhDlPM1ueNlxhE0mVvDLIM49Pk_ho7PKctd7tPBwnXxCz-lFMErruAhmwqRJBOCAYgwaJA_HFCgAX5YC39slq8EB8naeL-qZc6uQrOLHKuLv1W4YA6PRz4VxTR-Z6pP4/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+073-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; clear: right; color: black; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydTSBiarJpiU0QRPVX5mTlgKT5poESptc2UypHKYCjyQG3lcPholR2agW2iu-Wm_uRXv9ih2FGfnq6mMIkMXHLogBFrDJiYzpaR5MMBu33oO0w4D_gV37uFp-pIRscW5PndnVdCYaQiE/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+076-2.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisEV2fpgSdOPmX3fgnOAyqj5AOtxKkFyKxVbYL1WUs1CLGHKyvJMjgYcPBFh7mdWrx4FjUWU-N5EA-XHf60BVIQlMRTJjQHLPanKG0AWv5T2oe0WifO_t3lmfYRMj0q8tJiwESM9bkDQg/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisEV2fpgSdOPmX3fgnOAyqj5AOtxKkFyKxVbYL1WUs1CLGHKyvJMjgYcPBFh7mdWrx4FjUWU-N5EA-XHf60BVIQlMRTJjQHLPanKG0AWv5T2oe0WifO_t3lmfYRMj0q8tJiwESM9bkDQg/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+077.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4HA3zuBnl5AwMPItKh34CRBBgLuorPBDEyvArfaHdREehzSQmXkDRjEht5WXtGGK8L_19LaO-Sn-Qct8875cLeNCmkIUs-BPgnxcpRCtHsAE6wMfaWTu773BjGCBFgqX_7notFu8HwA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4HA3zuBnl5AwMPItKh34CRBBgLuorPBDEyvArfaHdREehzSQmXkDRjEht5WXtGGK8L_19LaO-Sn-Qct8875cLeNCmkIUs-BPgnxcpRCtHsAE6wMfaWTu773BjGCBFgqX_7notFu8HwA/s400/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+079.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4HA3zuBnl5AwMPItKh34CRBBgLuorPBDEyvArfaHdREehzSQmXkDRjEht5WXtGGK8L_19LaO-Sn-Qct8875cLeNCmkIUs-BPgnxcpRCtHsAE6wMfaWTu773BjGCBFgqX_7notFu8HwA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOcY0_KrBfwkhyfA78YgrtnleYLyrwkoMFBuagCmXAIAX28uksR4DOuSWmIu8Uyy7w0CrKhZmqjeqC30cmtRruGmjyqMuV3M-V1UZrJe5BH-I_gzpDgx6rSwse6vbZ64x3AWpYahC8Lc/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOcY0_KrBfwkhyfA78YgrtnleYLyrwkoMFBuagCmXAIAX28uksR4DOuSWmIu8Uyy7w0CrKhZmqjeqC30cmtRruGmjyqMuV3M-V1UZrJe5BH-I_gzpDgx6rSwse6vbZ64x3AWpYahC8Lc/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+081.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIelTFW6GhDiOoegc3YbsxiyJVr0_E-GnBjPXW4WCVx8kZ2g0PXf8wr5FNMS635pZJuSxdUazgUMtLabp2ZvXnOPUEedndK9vYzB5WIlZoLYZWZMlKqP7wohCNLGIW5JLMAN46BW12oUs/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIelTFW6GhDiOoegc3YbsxiyJVr0_E-GnBjPXW4WCVx8kZ2g0PXf8wr5FNMS635pZJuSxdUazgUMtLabp2ZvXnOPUEedndK9vYzB5WIlZoLYZWZMlKqP7wohCNLGIW5JLMAN46BW12oUs/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+085.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">*choke, cough cough</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUTDQefhGUIyxO6ZUdzvy9bMm3L2DhcgxqcQLGK9iMtxjx6Qjd_rViV1aFpSP_H3T-mQvbAH_-jr71q5C1XvilYh6vveHfaVOZLUgjmfG4pvgLyC-qeU1CRJ6u6JIdikxRu_0suDuX0s/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUTDQefhGUIyxO6ZUdzvy9bMm3L2DhcgxqcQLGK9iMtxjx6Qjd_rViV1aFpSP_H3T-mQvbAH_-jr71q5C1XvilYh6vveHfaVOZLUgjmfG4pvgLyC-qeU1CRJ6u6JIdikxRu_0suDuX0s/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+087.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rQ1TrkshSeiYuxo4FTBOA2IZMYbOEwb5VCOd5kAgQHZ5mzQW7NbFLCDnyhE2vyxRilUfIKHfwCbkYiQni6aeOtBW0maiOwZjAgJQ6a-6Ym0e1G9DJYoNprQKPdDO4o7vRozQWI3KkSc/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+088-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rQ1TrkshSeiYuxo4FTBOA2IZMYbOEwb5VCOd5kAgQHZ5mzQW7NbFLCDnyhE2vyxRilUfIKHfwCbkYiQni6aeOtBW0maiOwZjAgJQ6a-6Ym0e1G9DJYoNprQKPdDO4o7vRozQWI3KkSc/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+088-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqowUXD4INF6CL8SsqKvUaT_kTbS03U0y_YHIcsALQhJUd_u94zygpbRHD3CcQxq9BUvrzNvB9PByj1rYq7QzLBxu4UoQUgKTZlYtKQQVeez_SOBWBAfzoSGH5r559_EzRJJP5oaWtghw/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqowUXD4INF6CL8SsqKvUaT_kTbS03U0y_YHIcsALQhJUd_u94zygpbRHD3CcQxq9BUvrzNvB9PByj1rYq7QzLBxu4UoQUgKTZlYtKQQVeez_SOBWBAfzoSGH5r559_EzRJJP5oaWtghw/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+090.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznFLpK_8-V1qJ8ZmIAw1DHWxWmDr4kJ2kJk5Z-tbzkh4F9QwP2uEVjlCXQn0IfK5mvVgAl1NYK6yCtm7zThaB5wx_vwm87YkwjCxfHc98Liznod1QSWV6F0qO9x0rnMVd5Ir7PzmqAxA/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznFLpK_8-V1qJ8ZmIAw1DHWxWmDr4kJ2kJk5Z-tbzkh4F9QwP2uEVjlCXQn0IfK5mvVgAl1NYK6yCtm7zThaB5wx_vwm87YkwjCxfHc98Liznod1QSWV6F0qO9x0rnMVd5Ir7PzmqAxA/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+093.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaeLLui5ihGR4zs3gb3IlCbr7WeeleO4e6uAu3g6cZXW61IngLFCvaq48MAjTnD3-kEPW8U-OtnZtTxUhu8-c1Nh4J_olAMLLnf4O9qNzQPtYUb8BLiDHJuEXdOf3swgArByzEG3aqE90/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaeLLui5ihGR4zs3gb3IlCbr7WeeleO4e6uAu3g6cZXW61IngLFCvaq48MAjTnD3-kEPW8U-OtnZtTxUhu8-c1Nh4J_olAMLLnf4O9qNzQPtYUb8BLiDHJuEXdOf3swgArByzEG3aqE90/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+094.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Dpk1SkNnfxF6_mhWy0dAsPKMl6wMS21fc1ATWck4_WAUrF6Bds9jxyeMC6ovHkdsNgLwLozEwkeVWQJKNeK_QI4gNvaQDjY_unDH_DN4eVfN3jXp24_U4o7Ps5QjS30u6OqrJ9ivwus/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Dpk1SkNnfxF6_mhWy0dAsPKMl6wMS21fc1ATWck4_WAUrF6Bds9jxyeMC6ovHkdsNgLwLozEwkeVWQJKNeK_QI4gNvaQDjY_unDH_DN4eVfN3jXp24_U4o7Ps5QjS30u6OqrJ9ivwus/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+095.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwss09ylMaCZpGWNB6L-kqbtlmQM3EmWiERknBD8IjOSQV0BdFXs7C0CSFWLegog_oY5NSED1hhLMDvL0FPjBC92fUm3FIOjrKyjX9ZVCuJoZRgxW0RBeBuLI_0S1bKSJhWKksvC_O-w/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwss09ylMaCZpGWNB6L-kqbtlmQM3EmWiERknBD8IjOSQV0BdFXs7C0CSFWLegog_oY5NSED1hhLMDvL0FPjBC92fUm3FIOjrKyjX9ZVCuJoZRgxW0RBeBuLI_0S1bKSJhWKksvC_O-w/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+096.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqMR4exvmUp5ya5RjHiMG78AgJ0TwxV8B6YFfd_A2hxjKMTVTQWJJeF5mn6Nog-pm5EwgfuF3yhyphenhyphendHIKfy9jp8c73mGNis_iZgPULj_H5KAU1zDXSI1QdjRIDBY0t6_vZx43mLpKj6Rw/s1600/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+097-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqMR4exvmUp5ya5RjHiMG78AgJ0TwxV8B6YFfd_A2hxjKMTVTQWJJeF5mn6Nog-pm5EwgfuF3yhyphenhyphendHIKfy9jp8c73mGNis_iZgPULj_H5KAU1zDXSI1QdjRIDBY0t6_vZx43mLpKj6Rw/s640/Walking%2526BecomingBigBoyMay11+097-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
There ya have it. Don't say I never post any pictures of him anymore ;)Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-23414111494605035002011-04-03T14:23:00.001-05:002011-04-03T14:25:12.017-05:00Walk instead of crawlExhausted and ready to call it a night, I left the kitchen a mess and came to see what all the commotion was about in the living room.<br />
<br />
My cousin Adam had come over for dinner while he was in town and had just stepped out to make a call.<br />
<br />
Crouching low on the ground the hubs was cheering and clapping so loudly I can hardly make out what he was saying. <i>"Go Will!! Yay Buddy! Twwwoooo, thhhrreeeee, C'MON bud! Fouuurr, FIVE! AHH!"</i><br />
<br />
He did it. Finally, conquered his fears, stood to his feet and took a few steps of faith. Faith in what?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;">His Father.</span><br />
<br />
Of course the fact that Tyler was dangling the pacifier in front to lure him to himself had nothing to do with it I'm sure but never-the-less, He DID it!!!<br />
<br />
I stood there, tears in my eyes. Every comment from all of the well-meaning friends, "You need to walk, Mister!" or "When's that boy gonna start walking?" they all went out the window. He <b>can </b>do it. He <b>just </b><b>did</b>. I <b>knew </b>he could. When he was ready.<br />
<br />
We've tried a few times since then and he's done 2-3 steps here and there, but only when he's in a good mood and feeling pretty adventuresome. Is he running yet. no. Barely stepping.<br />
<br />
And that's ok.<br />
<br />
Why do some kids walk at 6 months and others at 16 months? Because we're all different. Our minds and bodies work differently on our own time. It's absolutely amazing. What really amazes me though is the fact that Will had the ability to do this probably for a few days, maybe weeks, but didn't. He didn't act on his ability until he felt safe. Not until he knew he had someone there to catch him, just in case he didn't quite make it.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">His Father.</span></span><br />
<br />
His father knew he was ready. His father believed the ability was there. He believed that with a little encouragement, Will would stand up on his two little feet and take steps toward him.<br />
<br />
Just like Will, I have a Father. I have a Father who watches me stand tall sometimes and other times fall down. He knows me better than I know myself (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%20139:1-6&version=KJV">Ps 139:1-6</a>).<br />
<br />
He never asks me to do something that He knows I'm not capable of. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Only what He has equipped me to do</span>. </span><br />
<br />
He is standing there with His arms open wide waiting for me to step out in faith. He's mighty to save (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Zephaniah%203:17&version=KJV">Zeph 3:17)</a>, ready to catch me when I stumble.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">Will I trust Him?</span></span><br />
<br />
<i>Might there be something that God is calling me to do today that only He can do through me? Is there some step of faith that my Father wants me to take that will draw me closer to Himself? If so, Lord, show me what it is. And give me the faith to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">walk instead of crawl</span></i>.Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-82326573085862529932011-03-14T15:14:00.000-05:002011-03-14T15:14:58.715-05:00egg'd<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As a youth pastor's wife, you get used to the litany of schemes and attacks of the teenage variety...this, however is a first.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I saw them out of the corner of my eye. The car was light blue and she jumped out in a pair of skinny jeans and a green t-shirt. Her ponytail bounced with her step. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Uh-Oh," I thought, mainly because I had been cleaning all day and didn't want to go to the door in my pajamas.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">DING-DONG! My doorbell just rang. Do I open it, or just ignore it and hope that they walk away???</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I glanced at myself in the mirror and decided honesty was the best policy. Putting my best foot forward (the one with some toenail polish left on it), I stepped toward the front door and opened it cautiously.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">No one there.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But <i>WAIT</i>! There IS a carton of eggs setting on my doormat! I heard of Milk-men but Egg-men?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I knelt down to pick up the carton with "<i>You've been egged!!!! :)</i>" written on the top.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFC5-dq7Vjl5_daWy2jwVKHPrwIJOBBuJCVeVQdj603xt4tA-PTi9infINVfbHzw2-P_XK4nFsGNon0NO7u71a_MUxvl6fQho6nJcYfpxo71rOh3N63xwG2ybalitXJYq8hkqJZzWlhI/s1600/Egg%2527d+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFC5-dq7Vjl5_daWy2jwVKHPrwIJOBBuJCVeVQdj603xt4tA-PTi9infINVfbHzw2-P_XK4nFsGNon0NO7u71a_MUxvl6fQho6nJcYfpxo71rOh3N63xwG2ybalitXJYq8hkqJZzWlhI/s640/Egg%2527d+004.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Classy</span>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Although, I probably will not attempt to eat them, this was probably the nicest form of egging that we'll ever have to endure. Thanks girls. You've made my day...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBdGn2x2APZcb6_hmJ2UlGQ1_pwt30zrWF9D23foORQ92zs60XFzzuJzqZT6hKnuIVggrslDUicGy_q2s8bk63m4IhICmndNJi7xz1pW6wSTBXTaazClJz1-0uMzVd2FaM8Ujd2Y_m4w/s1600/%257BEgg%2527d%257D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBdGn2x2APZcb6_hmJ2UlGQ1_pwt30zrWF9D23foORQ92zs60XFzzuJzqZT6hKnuIVggrslDUicGy_q2s8bk63m4IhICmndNJi7xz1pW6wSTBXTaazClJz1-0uMzVd2FaM8Ujd2Y_m4w/s640/%257BEgg%2527d%257D.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Only the first day of Spring Break. I wonder what other torture I'll succumb to this week.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-51526446012339108112011-03-06T16:15:00.003-06:002011-03-06T20:31:17.889-06:00Is this how it feels?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He was always such a strong man. My grandfather was an amazing kind of guy. He made the best pound cake in the whole world. No one came close. He also knew how to get his belt off faster than anyone else I knew. "Quit rompin' in the house! Like a bull in a china cabinet!!" Then the belt would come out, although I never saw him actually use it.</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A few years ago we saw a decline in his health. He started forgetting things, looking lost, driving on the wrong side of the road (I know because I was in the car!). He became very emotional and less talkative. When we found out he had Alzheimer's Disease, we kind of already knew.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3ei7aN-nudVKIwLV5P0MzmwnHcnOoYwTjhGlcNsxD-xckRsErucsMYkEOWFRxHKoDlxLFZRuVdVPJMNYEWpW93RCx6xoGnII7RlevyLxjiBsgn-y1d0FeKtbMLqSYW6KB2uieD3B-qU/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3ei7aN-nudVKIwLV5P0MzmwnHcnOoYwTjhGlcNsxD-xckRsErucsMYkEOWFRxHKoDlxLFZRuVdVPJMNYEWpW93RCx6xoGnII7RlevyLxjiBsgn-y1d0FeKtbMLqSYW6KB2uieD3B-qU/s640/New+Years+and+VA+081.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCWpbLCIRR1DM-4KWgowcCpO-qhB15vhTxfTeIV6uMPXdDz-XkonMzH_itlxry0POxEM0f4ouLZza6q_SHtwPtHKPwnINLckD8bXxj5Ss1NIBx1xDi9K2tksmlnzDoWUgsgbXS9pTTHI/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCWpbLCIRR1DM-4KWgowcCpO-qhB15vhTxfTeIV6uMPXdDz-XkonMzH_itlxry0POxEM0f4ouLZza6q_SHtwPtHKPwnINLckD8bXxj5Ss1NIBx1xDi9K2tksmlnzDoWUgsgbXS9pTTHI/s640/New+Years+and+VA+083.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvHYzShR-mJ3Mv3TULCds0BQQ7frYzCu0SAIN_FPVYVdWpyDYHf9Azbqcj13FfZPaP-60ztK5_MZvxmfhkoXM4gvQst-fpHsRPef9D-utwPdyhuJ4SnFqaxfIJmASbm764v4LTXnFMwQ/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvHYzShR-mJ3Mv3TULCds0BQQ7frYzCu0SAIN_FPVYVdWpyDYHf9Azbqcj13FfZPaP-60ztK5_MZvxmfhkoXM4gvQst-fpHsRPef9D-utwPdyhuJ4SnFqaxfIJmASbm764v4LTXnFMwQ/s640/New+Years+and+VA+087.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We were able to take Will to see him in January. I was so happy he got to spend some time with his great grandad. Pawpaw was overjoyed at him being there.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's been 6 years since he was officially diagnosed and the decline has been slow and steady. One thing remains constant, the loving care of my grandmother.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii163uFc1ZhD4DBiGRiB8c2XRnP5yk1rmKay-7SwI7KX4vJb3CSTIc80BHCmUCjTvM5kXLOMgJ0FQaI5c8zYSLlodnrwa9oPK_zCy6tjsFhM-zb31qjnm1BLbImGVYHHLsY6Via5IUvU8/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii163uFc1ZhD4DBiGRiB8c2XRnP5yk1rmKay-7SwI7KX4vJb3CSTIc80BHCmUCjTvM5kXLOMgJ0FQaI5c8zYSLlodnrwa9oPK_zCy6tjsFhM-zb31qjnm1BLbImGVYHHLsY6Via5IUvU8/s640/New+Years+and+VA+133.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She has taken such good care of my grandpa. Makes his food, feeds him, cleans his mouth. She talks to him even when he doesn't talk back. Watches him while he sleeps. Sits in lonely silence for hours when his mind is blank. And through it all, she loves him.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Can you imagine, sitting by the love of your life, your other half, your best friend, and not be able to speak whenever you wish about whatever's on your mind? Not be able to hear them say, "I love you"? Giving them a hugging and them not hugging you back? This is her life. every. day.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And it makes me think...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Is this how my Saviour feels? Is that what it's like for Him when He speaks to me and I choose to ignore Him? When He wants to fellowship with me and I'm off in my own world...does He wait for me to respond? Does it make Him sad?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yes. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">His Word tells us that it "greives" Him</span>.<br />
<br />
</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+95:10&version=KJV"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">Psalm 95:10</span></i></a></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">Forty years long was I</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"> </span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">grieve</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">d with this generation, and said, It is a people that do err in their heart, and they have not known my ways:</span></i></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Lord, help me to recognize You when You speak to me. Help me to listen for Your voice. Wake me out of my slumber and drowsiness of mind, so that I may draw nigh to You sweet voice.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Thank You, for Your unconditional, unfathomable, unending love. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-----------------------------------------------------------------------------</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A few more images from my time with my grandpa.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2hf13dI_URY8kQzhfLk8fyLQK3dowoW7RwWDgYM1Esnt_Y7dFEe6lMfNzBThKk2T4wIVtzxlLKN4UKAeGU-8S9b0T5L92jTgFoKKGdJk3nLEl2J-yh2ZR_iKVrk1TVna7J5oQHK8xDo/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2hf13dI_URY8kQzhfLk8fyLQK3dowoW7RwWDgYM1Esnt_Y7dFEe6lMfNzBThKk2T4wIVtzxlLKN4UKAeGU-8S9b0T5L92jTgFoKKGdJk3nLEl2J-yh2ZR_iKVrk1TVna7J5oQHK8xDo/s640/New+Years+and+VA+103.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwAnMDiiCir8TZR35w7hOurHSKvlJIMhLSObkBZsJcqunJwhCGsz2d-PVSK18TTchRV2jNnPTJuNsiFyDTfwa6AyuJzV9KFOhxovYFNEK2eSyMzpuEnT1cN-Ns6y3fOurUfflYVzetJyQ/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwAnMDiiCir8TZR35w7hOurHSKvlJIMhLSObkBZsJcqunJwhCGsz2d-PVSK18TTchRV2jNnPTJuNsiFyDTfwa6AyuJzV9KFOhxovYFNEK2eSyMzpuEnT1cN-Ns6y3fOurUfflYVzetJyQ/s640/New+Years+and+VA+121.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4okw_ZDhaFElR8-Xy0BGe_frtdclzsoxHlDil05ASihnfQEV-WTZOwvbVg1qPWLyIH0SsSXf-22tsAieOw_yd3akgddh8nLiKj_3B-b2GCun4Q86O-NWi035-yQm73FYbYZ72AvLwTE8/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4okw_ZDhaFElR8-Xy0BGe_frtdclzsoxHlDil05ASihnfQEV-WTZOwvbVg1qPWLyIH0SsSXf-22tsAieOw_yd3akgddh8nLiKj_3B-b2GCun4Q86O-NWi035-yQm73FYbYZ72AvLwTE8/s640/New+Years+and+VA+115.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbHfJjfabPZRqtk26HWlzf8hyphenhyphenLxib7BJuexmPNCRNLBbS3njbefvplioYsPXIVznkvm0-XsSPu9dzxKg3LiJ0tbZIpHtUHHOYJfazFTn0DT78iEieaIAYthUqULItOSZOSqoV2Ch0V5k/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbHfJjfabPZRqtk26HWlzf8hyphenhyphenLxib7BJuexmPNCRNLBbS3njbefvplioYsPXIVznkvm0-XsSPu9dzxKg3LiJ0tbZIpHtUHHOYJfazFTn0DT78iEieaIAYthUqULItOSZOSqoV2Ch0V5k/s640/New+Years+and+VA+145.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3l54N7xmOF3WQroaAZZLgz6si4hWBFgT65vH_8Sp6uMgzEyfkxZev2d1vo8Asz_kGrjNf355-j1KIC4cs_0dSvBfn-ZOKAUiCN2CmV7-spMv9y9c0V3ifd7B5hCP3b6TcHO7Cv0ELszA/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3l54N7xmOF3WQroaAZZLgz6si4hWBFgT65vH_8Sp6uMgzEyfkxZev2d1vo8Asz_kGrjNf355-j1KIC4cs_0dSvBfn-ZOKAUiCN2CmV7-spMv9y9c0V3ifd7B5hCP3b6TcHO7Cv0ELszA/s640/New+Years+and+VA+148.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTtNxCl2QKrM0xekh7Uy7W3bKDf3fRf2Pq0pMrilkfnyk96QNv2qJ-yow4KSC-f4mmHUN_zDzYAABgrJJq6oEmyRpsLqk-sfpG2bW47RiYeP9qr6OjQAjGX0B_X2klY96_lSBUBa9Nzo/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTtNxCl2QKrM0xekh7Uy7W3bKDf3fRf2Pq0pMrilkfnyk96QNv2qJ-yow4KSC-f4mmHUN_zDzYAABgrJJq6oEmyRpsLqk-sfpG2bW47RiYeP9qr6OjQAjGX0B_X2klY96_lSBUBa9Nzo/s400/New+Years+and+VA+135.jpg" width="266" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFUNnNzlTbCNXKwYaKvrD989-5kiXN6uaQ0Hdbhigcyq2yhiNnBx5Ve-XswPLNTbHRDxgqFUBJc9mfSNQDNUDraeuE4RlZlnOgHMLAycR1KkA-QPS-dn94GJwZk-mSzV8gDl7T_8HkF4/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFUNnNzlTbCNXKwYaKvrD989-5kiXN6uaQ0Hdbhigcyq2yhiNnBx5Ve-XswPLNTbHRDxgqFUBJc9mfSNQDNUDraeuE4RlZlnOgHMLAycR1KkA-QPS-dn94GJwZk-mSzV8gDl7T_8HkF4/s400/New+Years+and+VA+140.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAG1kWg-gYOOsRN6Cx6tOWCtbm7g6Z6fLhql3sSSeF995rbYOoC5V0kE8lps8Olg_BnKgfM5Wn0N0mv-R2UKtghhIlcohNGMZ8kDGzl0gUgydXbRYeREsGMw3_9htq4i1InHfxdd7MHkY/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAG1kWg-gYOOsRN6Cx6tOWCtbm7g6Z6fLhql3sSSeF995rbYOoC5V0kE8lps8Olg_BnKgfM5Wn0N0mv-R2UKtghhIlcohNGMZ8kDGzl0gUgydXbRYeREsGMw3_9htq4i1InHfxdd7MHkY/s400/New+Years+and+VA+170.jpg" width="266" /> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCxsyY8AuHLf4swngbSwImN4vXxfno61OdfPLs8IMevetCT_jyc-AH8pRUwNwUPyTykYphNV97rT4zddPbMm99-niKWRwN_oshKbHdwR6xAehEXZ1bVX_yivGk4ulsxFrWumFOFuW1Ww/s1600/New+Years+and+VA+168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCxsyY8AuHLf4swngbSwImN4vXxfno61OdfPLs8IMevetCT_jyc-AH8pRUwNwUPyTykYphNV97rT4zddPbMm99-niKWRwN_oshKbHdwR6xAehEXZ1bVX_yivGk4ulsxFrWumFOFuW1Ww/s400/New+Years+and+VA+168.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Right as I was about to leave their house to head back to Texas, I held his hand, told him I loved him and that I would be back soon. I didn't go into details, he might not understand. Right as I was about to leave, he squeezed my hand and said, " 'kay." </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'll never forget it...my special moment with my Pawpaw.</span></div></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-58522544278293666272011-02-18T11:23:00.001-06:002011-02-19T09:22:06.071-06:00...even the lifeless ones<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I've been trimming it ever-so-slightly, for about three months, just to keep it from taking over his face. He has the sweetest little strawberry curls anyone has ever seen. I love his hair. I prayed for his hair, even before I had ever met my husband, graduated high school, all the way since Kindergarten. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Please give me kids with red curly hair," I prayed. Granted this might've come from my strange obsession with <i>Anne of Green Gables</i> but more than likely it was fate. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I saw him, the first week of school. He was riding the same bus about 3 seats back on the left. Wearing a hat, he was already told was <b><span style="font-size: large;">not okay</span></b>. "He's a rebel," I thought. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">I kinda liked rebels.</span></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I digress. I could see it gleaming out from underneath his forbidden ball cap. Red curls. Wiry and long. He had been told to get his hair cut. He thought he had, it still wasn't short enough but no matter, like I said, It was the first week of school.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
Weeks went on and I kept seeing him, stalking him. Finally, my "friend" nonchalantly, asked him to sit beside us at lunch. And the rest is history.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He was mine and all I ever could ask more for would be children that looked <span style="font-size: large;"><b>just like him</b></span>. I got it. He does. His red curls and all. The only thing I can say is that I'm so glad I bore him, or people might not believe that he was mine. Or so they say...</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, he got all of those curls cut off yesterday. We hated to see them go, but knew at the same time that we had to do something about the monstrosity. As I knelt down onto the cold floor of the salon and picked up his lifeless curls I thought, "It's only the beginning." I wrapped it in foil and tucked it away in the diaper bag.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There are going to be many things I'd rather not do. I'd rather not see him do. I rather not think about. But there will be many, many more that I can't wait to see, hear, feel. Like the first time he says, "I love you, momma" or the first valentine he makes for me with his own hands.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have two of the sweetest men in the whole world here, in my house. And am so grateful for them both, for their beautiful strands of strawberry, even the lifeless ones.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He really did well, as long as he was eating...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmeRWNkM2RakstbT3j_I8JAhK6C56MLQ_3z2V6BN8ddNA87L1W1BFfH70osoiWkEFltiZb39prwbzrCr-1sQhjxsTfm1T8lfH4CBHs75SZh4hiAtnFnqnYr52JgdV8B8HuRKbM08y8lc/s1600/1stHaircut+079-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmeRWNkM2RakstbT3j_I8JAhK6C56MLQ_3z2V6BN8ddNA87L1W1BFfH70osoiWkEFltiZb39prwbzrCr-1sQhjxsTfm1T8lfH4CBHs75SZh4hiAtnFnqnYr52JgdV8B8HuRKbM08y8lc/s640/1stHaircut+079-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0FLX457N6l8EhKCQOsTCz4QaV_fgBW-_cRn4tDxyD1R5uGpSK5W27vzTiUDrym2M_sYiTLHWe-oorjrEdDpsn6KJR6tM9kseMXqbUJPHbjeL8VrRqC4gNkTGVA-OLKte3dbS1D3_rbA/s1600/FirstHaircut+2-17-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0FLX457N6l8EhKCQOsTCz4QaV_fgBW-_cRn4tDxyD1R5uGpSK5W27vzTiUDrym2M_sYiTLHWe-oorjrEdDpsn6KJR6tM9kseMXqbUJPHbjeL8VrRqC4gNkTGVA-OLKte3dbS1D3_rbA/s640/FirstHaircut+2-17-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfbsEXu0RTBYkbSQ1Ciw5cf1cqhnPrZCchqhr_jgFhu1UYQbpuip8yFYaHTc2y46r8Ow2oJ_n7HP-94ktE9QmgW24w6tbnF0sa8XpuEcauvg1g-292joVpoAwc-PmIqANC3XV7drE4oY/s1600/1stHaircut+097-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfbsEXu0RTBYkbSQ1Ciw5cf1cqhnPrZCchqhr_jgFhu1UYQbpuip8yFYaHTc2y46r8Ow2oJ_n7HP-94ktE9QmgW24w6tbnF0sa8XpuEcauvg1g-292joVpoAwc-PmIqANC3XV7drE4oY/s640/1stHaircut+097-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">I love this one...I can almost here a funny frenchman's laugh here *augh haugh haugh haugh</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_jvJL-5_dO-T7sYt8nOsZ2J-P_JqzhaFLWsw3FAsMZKuK_uDM_Mu2KRw5sgAR4-lJ_2MxtitLXQtJvt4faQNKUXUvc9zXWyMT9sAk1x_FRP7CAyHGa95ZImCg8IKstDevoO_zR5K7UI/s1600/1stHaircut+108-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_jvJL-5_dO-T7sYt8nOsZ2J-P_JqzhaFLWsw3FAsMZKuK_uDM_Mu2KRw5sgAR4-lJ_2MxtitLXQtJvt4faQNKUXUvc9zXWyMT9sAk1x_FRP7CAyHGa95ZImCg8IKstDevoO_zR5K7UI/s640/1stHaircut+108-1.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Aww! How sweet am I?" </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzo1qY6hQiHj9rgoHDshRJ7FRCDjDxfn8-CK5c5ryPksG5e27yo-CIGgmxXKmB3tkEnlyQihS2Gef2AgRBMLqfKk-AmXiaQBu3ZzzIqxwpiQLUM1VN9_FF1TVCL3I5N-wWXSxYLbSX9Y/s1600/Collages.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzo1qY6hQiHj9rgoHDshRJ7FRCDjDxfn8-CK5c5ryPksG5e27yo-CIGgmxXKmB3tkEnlyQihS2Gef2AgRBMLqfKk-AmXiaQBu3ZzzIqxwpiQLUM1VN9_FF1TVCL3I5N-wWXSxYLbSX9Y/s640/Collages.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Much Love, </div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tori</span><br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><br />
<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-57032545960926900152011-02-12T11:01:00.000-06:002011-02-12T11:01:39.049-06:00"the nefarious napkin thief" and other such stories<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So I'm here and not dead. I know, I know. Everyone thought I had completely disappeared. Honestly, I just haven't had the time or subject to write on. I've been telling myself that unless I had an image to go with my post that I shouldn't write. But that's just plain dumb. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Of course you know I'll pop one in here somewhere, right? </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Today is the Valentine Banquet at our church. It's always so much fun decorating and getting skits ready. But the food and controlling the throngs of teens that show up to help? Not so much. You know when you're telling a teenager to guard the napkins on the tables from the imaginary "Nefarious Napkin Thief" that you're making up jobs just to get them out of your hair. I have to admit, it sounds completely ridiculous, but it really has been done.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">I plan on including images from tonight's banquet but here's a lovely one from 2009</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1R486FKOGxN6Aqz7TYWLzLbZaWd__zTQMjYmtFZnfCBZGi4Yg15VHjhZ1FF5oARER0pj65b_ZoRnGf2LcnI63bD_f_YWgIOZDk9jKR47O7j99OQcF-J-7_tXNsgszcKjCRsWspmb4i8/s1600/Potfoliolies+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1R486FKOGxN6Aqz7TYWLzLbZaWd__zTQMjYmtFZnfCBZGi4Yg15VHjhZ1FF5oARER0pj65b_ZoRnGf2LcnI63bD_f_YWgIOZDk9jKR47O7j99OQcF-J-7_tXNsgszcKjCRsWspmb4i8/s640/Potfoliolies+012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <br />
Stay Fun! </div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tori</span><br />
<br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-28580414748518390252010-12-28T10:59:00.001-06:002010-12-29T22:13:38.085-06:00Christmas 2010...<p$1><p$1><p$1>The warm glow of the lights and the smell of hot chocolate and bagels fill the air this morning. It was not his first Christmas, but it might as well be.</p$1></p$1></p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1></p$1></p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1> </p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4pYAKe5iKH1tgY_JLnSKA-aE8Hf2ef_aLIJkpO6ztmTd7RJno5i5PfhHDKJ9XhQ_kEV_jSJqLeVOVJ2t8axU7S7ll9J0y3UhhqIhenw-dO_60w_JrMJZjLKCqTAhSpp5ItQPwjZXMSU/s1600/ZachsandChristmas2010+049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4pYAKe5iKH1tgY_JLnSKA-aE8Hf2ef_aLIJkpO6ztmTd7RJno5i5PfhHDKJ9XhQ_kEV_jSJqLeVOVJ2t8axU7S7ll9J0y3UhhqIhenw-dO_60w_JrMJZjLKCqTAhSpp5ItQPwjZXMSU/s640/ZachsandChristmas2010+049.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1>This is the year he helped to open gifts, his face lit up with joy, and paper and boxes amuse him. This is the year we will always remember.</p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1> </p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjylLNQSw25GAPZXUZjnortyTJmi9hR8cm-BrIgr9a48LUHBNJYFC0KwXjyK64oTUEia-7ENVY-h9RDXvBtXZ1KP8gBY8A2ye1f6augOSaSTVxWmehK3Czorge4ZfQZA0bD_Jgb1D0vx4o/s1600/ZachsandChristmas2010+050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjylLNQSw25GAPZXUZjnortyTJmi9hR8cm-BrIgr9a48LUHBNJYFC0KwXjyK64oTUEia-7ENVY-h9RDXvBtXZ1KP8gBY8A2ye1f6augOSaSTVxWmehK3Czorge4ZfQZA0bD_Jgb1D0vx4o/s640/ZachsandChristmas2010+050.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1>My husband thoughtfully wrapped a present he knew I would enjoy. He gave me a <a href="http://shootsac.com/shootsacproducts.aspx">Shootsac</a>! Will got some black "Chuck's" and car keys that make a bunch of noise...no, I mean a bunch. And Tyler got some new Doc's. </p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1>As I look around my house cluttered with gifts and memories, I think that it's over. But the best Gift isn't. The very first Gift. The most amazing Gift. The Gift that started it all. <br />
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Jesus Christ, our Gift of Salvation, that came so long ago to be born in a lowly manger, the Lamb of Christmas, the God-Man born to die, He is our Gift of gifts. He is still here and although a special Gift I accepted long ago, can still be thoroughly loved and enjoyed. <br />
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Every time I chose to speak with my blessed Saviour, or read His Love-Letter to me, I can re-open my precious gift from the very first Christmas!<br />
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Lord, help me to not lose sight of the most wonderful present ever received...Yourself.</p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><br />
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<p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1>Merry Christmas.</p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviQ6k7Ye1gCPdmyEshtxzOlFZbaHyr1SnVcEoVvGM8kDLTwuvQ4D0yWYIo6W7bBli_8o3vmm9Vz9z7jXrB0v0EVX_zP3-FLsiwq_-Ffj8CmcJBm3a2x7r7qEwSToeDG_7EDkPFVrfOT0/s1600/ZachsandChristmas2010+068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviQ6k7Ye1gCPdmyEshtxzOlFZbaHyr1SnVcEoVvGM8kDLTwuvQ4D0yWYIo6W7bBli_8o3vmm9Vz9z7jXrB0v0EVX_zP3-FLsiwq_-Ffj8CmcJBm3a2x7r7qEwSToeDG_7EDkPFVrfOT0/s640/ZachsandChristmas2010+068.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1><p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1></p$1><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-14551513526746807252010-12-08T23:24:00.000-06:002010-12-08T23:24:04.958-06:00{Lexi} | thirteen<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I <span style="font-size: large;">had</span> to blog this session...why? Maybe because it was one of my favorites everrr...maybe because I'm obsessed with redheads...maybe it's because this girl reminds me of myself at her age. Not the gorgeousness, mind you (I <span style="font-size: large;">wish</span>) but more her personality.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I had the privilege of attending </span><a href="http://aheavenlycalling.blogspot.com/2010/08/last-night-was-just-for-fun.html"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">{Lexi's} 13th birthday party</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> what seems like eon's ago in August? Her mother asked if I would get a few fun photos of the girls being, well, Jr. Higher's. Anyway, being short on time and daylight, we didn't get very many good ones. Feeling terrible about the fuzziness, noise and lack of light, I offered to come back at a later time and get some more of {Lexi} on her own. Her mom readily agreed and I was ecstatic. Have you seen how gorgeous she is? Tyler, Will and I headed over to Duncanville the other night and got to spend some wonderful time with their </span><a href="http://brenda-lifeinmyshoes.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">sweet family</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> and I got to get me some serious portfolio images :)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So without any further ado, let me post some extras of my fave pics from {Lexi's} shoot!</span><br />
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<div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She was having a hard time being serious at first.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrBiJYKUrf_UbJOBlh4hArXecqIBUW_MyAZNhbUbpCOvrKFoxxz9SXX2Wiw5eWdUo2ZW6pWAxybmqgb1w8FGBX-IRpARF3lLacewD8Fv2f4yrLRqSAwsJTm2YdLJlBYxt0BRjWGUXt0Fs/s1600/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrBiJYKUrf_UbJOBlh4hArXecqIBUW_MyAZNhbUbpCOvrKFoxxz9SXX2Wiw5eWdUo2ZW6pWAxybmqgb1w8FGBX-IRpARF3lLacewD8Fv2f4yrLRqSAwsJTm2YdLJlBYxt0BRjWGUXt0Fs/s640/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She was just way too fun.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIqZ9ea6AuC9AIWpVqicciwdE-ggnxb84aCeWLaZTAmqUsORz5EWa6RXhzIm3bzR1r0EegrMXbjpNsHfd26x-ygi_ZfputnS57jRJuPp9eFQUgu_SgER5nooNw1YBUYCbJuEC-uUCCfQ/s1600/Willinhats+n+Lexi+100-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIqZ9ea6AuC9AIWpVqicciwdE-ggnxb84aCeWLaZTAmqUsORz5EWa6RXhzIm3bzR1r0EegrMXbjpNsHfd26x-ygi_ZfputnS57jRJuPp9eFQUgu_SgER5nooNw1YBUYCbJuEC-uUCCfQ/s640/Willinhats+n+Lexi+100-1.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjS6XZTnfx2L71SVFnbDBkOLGnbycFcPTXwdJnoTzRZtjXRROvosjSElS9g3V_MMwT85P_hmgRPzdMnUMYaTazW9A0g3s2ncppBJ3K9Vrl7JeE_9nlztb1qsX8yjYctKw7W1wvQtzInw8/s1600/Willinhats+n+Lexi+114-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjS6XZTnfx2L71SVFnbDBkOLGnbycFcPTXwdJnoTzRZtjXRROvosjSElS9g3V_MMwT85P_hmgRPzdMnUMYaTazW9A0g3s2ncppBJ3K9Vrl7JeE_9nlztb1qsX8yjYctKw7W1wvQtzInw8/s640/Willinhats+n+Lexi+114-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">By the end she was getting really good at the 'model' look...I mean reeeeeaaally good.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ax7xu_dmL3s7oTwxEnvUgO9ufDQEUFDX1SG0Oenxk-qBzLshBFhJbcM5KgOFnd9j7xXTzWtaomPuvat9oja3ioEa2fhkqXNGW-Vnc4QhdY18gMUP-7zhh-UtSLkeden2hsFz21LbMTM/s1600/Willinhats+n+Lexi+130-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ax7xu_dmL3s7oTwxEnvUgO9ufDQEUFDX1SG0Oenxk-qBzLshBFhJbcM5KgOFnd9j7xXTzWtaomPuvat9oja3ioEa2fhkqXNGW-Vnc4QhdY18gMUP-7zhh-UtSLkeden2hsFz21LbMTM/s640/Willinhats+n+Lexi+130-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I got her to laugh for a few though :)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqICOlxLNuk2m3pZtu9pHJz1UGR6BhIpa2UCZ88KSdbZGeNDCMUK26t-8gcCKWnJ-9DMcPoouF39q8opmtMFlwoBL1qwPDyzCqXl6JM3U4TuUX8_Xu3eaQE2P3JowrjEdQhx9TkHCJbI/s1600/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqICOlxLNuk2m3pZtu9pHJz1UGR6BhIpa2UCZ88KSdbZGeNDCMUK26t-8gcCKWnJ-9DMcPoouF39q8opmtMFlwoBL1qwPDyzCqXl6JM3U4TuUX8_Xu3eaQE2P3JowrjEdQhx9TkHCJbI/s640/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-3.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqICaMKWA3dE_-P6eIK34Vv485YUM1to350qUmac7liVFqNZ6Ajvd7igMIZhBiTWTe1EteGDA7xxnekPxX7kNSbNbCmgYJGef1zvXrqdR7gHtb7IGQcCQF6G4gcusx6TMbk4-pGMyLTc/s1600/Willinhats+n+Lexi+122-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqICaMKWA3dE_-P6eIK34Vv485YUM1to350qUmac7liVFqNZ6Ajvd7igMIZhBiTWTe1EteGDA7xxnekPxX7kNSbNbCmgYJGef1zvXrqdR7gHtb7IGQcCQF6G4gcusx6TMbk4-pGMyLTc/s640/Willinhats+n+Lexi+122-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG_UtDPCD_2kMW9dJc9qJeqUAr2wVCiCq8F_g5syY6zietzP_BZimM4hJkYYCG4uq3LpD2R6rlYL_ImoHsWMSEpm59HjSP-tmCcvKeo_fP742t2N08XHrS70eVekNnU6lgcVB2my_PwpM/s1600/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG_UtDPCD_2kMW9dJc9qJeqUAr2wVCiCq8F_g5syY6zietzP_BZimM4hJkYYCG4uq3LpD2R6rlYL_ImoHsWMSEpm59HjSP-tmCcvKeo_fP742t2N08XHrS70eVekNnU6lgcVB2my_PwpM/s640/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-4.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMROIQSwogfASiFC3QUq6984Oi9I3p1QC5PBI9mERSl1zOscnl6PDC7s-FuBEoiQvFbzferhffliXRIRRsmUmA9tnaeSdti3GtpNDk6xqut5m8N9hKQ5q6MhhHFZO0fALzF3UAqlrV85o/s1600/Willinhats+n+Lexi+137-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMROIQSwogfASiFC3QUq6984Oi9I3p1QC5PBI9mERSl1zOscnl6PDC7s-FuBEoiQvFbzferhffliXRIRRsmUmA9tnaeSdti3GtpNDk6xqut5m8N9hKQ5q6MhhHFZO0fALzF3UAqlrV85o/s640/Willinhats+n+Lexi+137-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Check out those uber cool green nails!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbUCv75Xazz0ubotQQ4Bc3ukfDW_l7Ix5WaLl9CdWXm_jduU4wPO_adXsrF2NqSXgXfUFoRRpC-wZ5SGyLX-ZM79lE_2ugrbD_CBmy7xYykRxjC6WKBKYx-AjnG3HKZk29a_VqzxjaMI/s1600/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbUCv75Xazz0ubotQQ4Bc3ukfDW_l7Ix5WaLl9CdWXm_jduU4wPO_adXsrF2NqSXgXfUFoRRpC-wZ5SGyLX-ZM79lE_2ugrbD_CBmy7xYykRxjC6WKBKYx-AjnG3HKZk29a_VqzxjaMI/s640/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-2.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Here are a few from our fun night together with the entire fam...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There are 4 girls in this family! And boy were they lovin' on the Wilburstein and he was lovin' it :)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCj0yRW8jVxbipiNiIgLyq11CZvaGxpohaRA9KU4m1w1MBqPwRmmo0XKvKOCSqopAtCTsMyohzqQM2iYcCO6OonkKxgGGCewJDpjE5K4fQf34AclM1ztc26M2TqEoF1vC0Xl2LPGsOcxk/s1600/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCj0yRW8jVxbipiNiIgLyq11CZvaGxpohaRA9KU4m1w1MBqPwRmmo0XKvKOCSqopAtCTsMyohzqQM2iYcCO6OonkKxgGGCewJDpjE5K4fQf34AclM1ztc26M2TqEoF1vC0Xl2LPGsOcxk/s640/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-5.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Will got up close and personal with a hockey game, some books and one of the girls. Ashlyn just kept saying over and over, "I can't wait to be a momma!" How sweet is that?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0BbmhHqUA8zy5u6E58i3TJZgmt9sIP4MaKP2djASzuTI06r9iP2ItemzKHNOUsz4VEjFZ-1-7Sfr8vocCD7Z5_IjiXg8UAIuoPohFvM7y69uNu3sw0dYOfvW4vqPWlzLE3uKoutg_xw/s1600/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0BbmhHqUA8zy5u6E58i3TJZgmt9sIP4MaKP2djASzuTI06r9iP2ItemzKHNOUsz4VEjFZ-1-7Sfr8vocCD7Z5_IjiXg8UAIuoPohFvM7y69uNu3sw0dYOfvW4vqPWlzLE3uKoutg_xw/s640/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-6.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There are 2 boys in this family and somehow I only got a picture of one of them! Sorry Grant, please know that you are loved, over there on your Playstation. This is Garret. He loves his "church clothes" so much so that he gets his Sunday outfit ready...<strong>on Monday night</strong>. And when he finally gets to church on Sunday, he inspects the men. If he finds they've not met his expectations he asks, "Hey! Where's your tie!?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-oTV8dtL71MKGBcB5rbFY2hFu2i3jMe2_NIa8QBDuV2Qj01kXIdNUATJp3TwnqFlwf2Hlduw4rj4Z-RBdop0ps6KfuoEcb7RhymeQ36G4hm9K2u31S_qFi8RIuMKLzf64pU64q1vuQY/s1600/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-oTV8dtL71MKGBcB5rbFY2hFu2i3jMe2_NIa8QBDuV2Qj01kXIdNUATJp3TwnqFlwf2Hlduw4rj4Z-RBdop0ps6KfuoEcb7RhymeQ36G4hm9K2u31S_qFi8RIuMKLzf64pU64q1vuQY/s640/%257BLexi%257D-+thirteen-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm so blessed to be part of the Worth Baptist Church and to be able to worship and fellowship with some of the most amazing people. I'm so thankful for the friendship of this family. May the Lord bless them richly for all of their kindness and hospitality!</span></div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-87207725096694710342010-11-27T14:04:00.001-06:002010-11-27T14:09:41.486-06:00I love this kid, a year ago and today too...Remembering Will's first birthday party<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Exhausted from the long day yesterday, I sit here and type out my remembrance of his day. His first birthday party. I wanted to soak it all in but instead all I could think of was if there was enough food, if everyone was enjoying themselves or if I was doing things too quickly or too slowly. Then there was the other thoughts, was my house clean enough, why didn't so and so come?</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBUgYh4ijiDgf8rynAzX43wXxmGBAT4wFaq8lbc-rgz0jIN7YTHI7vs1c3Dt9hVxRqT93tneQmVGeWUTAMzWV9ofM5DgAEc2yq9UirZq6jO4xOznb9DxhQ1pfIN12IsvIiMVd7Uejzt8/s1600/Partycollage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBUgYh4ijiDgf8rynAzX43wXxmGBAT4wFaq8lbc-rgz0jIN7YTHI7vs1c3Dt9hVxRqT93tneQmVGeWUTAMzWV9ofM5DgAEc2yq9UirZq6jO4xOznb9DxhQ1pfIN12IsvIiMVd7Uejzt8/s640/Partycollage.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And then I think of all the good. The out of town sister-in-law that would've given her right arm to help in any way, the little man's face lighting up when he saw all of the people coming in, the best friends that DID come, Daddy in his pilgrim hat, lots of food and fun and good times with friends. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOEh_Hvqxpf9s2U58WlobFewvfq1npPNmESGWEvXMyzRh5XHq2H_eV-Putbxni87IeIiXw6SE8_-bsYGdlnm5N-mIOyw5Wdag5IZUKDNKcR5Ua9xz_aUdZPafUVjmvLhDrQQ0POYmk8U/s1600/Will+041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOEh_Hvqxpf9s2U58WlobFewvfq1npPNmESGWEvXMyzRh5XHq2H_eV-Putbxni87IeIiXw6SE8_-bsYGdlnm5N-mIOyw5Wdag5IZUKDNKcR5Ua9xz_aUdZPafUVjmvLhDrQQ0POYmk8U/s400/Will+041.jpg" width="266" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-6GRBI-7QBcsRfMTgygjpJazOxuxMrA-jdMYJsGYI5DC-9et1Un7EHOX0KbznF8paJfmNGAxlqk8rvo_AbVN5Hdfw1BkNoyTUBab99qUIB7mExOcyF0w0kPa-YL3zaUe6prpgJw5JzI/s1600/Will+034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-6GRBI-7QBcsRfMTgygjpJazOxuxMrA-jdMYJsGYI5DC-9et1Un7EHOX0KbznF8paJfmNGAxlqk8rvo_AbVN5Hdfw1BkNoyTUBab99qUIB7mExOcyF0w0kPa-YL3zaUe6prpgJw5JzI/s400/Will+034.jpg" width="266" /></span></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The party started at 2:00pm Saturday, the 20th of November, but the preparation started weeks before. The invitations were all handmade. Turkeys, Candy Corns, and Pilgrim Hats. A label with all of the party information was attached to the side of each invite with Raffia. The Cake was a giant cupcake! I saw this great giant cupcake pan at my mom's house when I went to visit her in October. I told her that it would be perfect for his party and she said she'd be happy to let me borrow it. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnw-SfogzFAG9f2kwq1ZesTmwoM_ITvSsvQehX8YYmIkTDk6gD8dy-0J2JekiLs4DVWvJH8A0rjTpBhbGKoeJlG16tK5zL4apHcWwt5VsGXPvEFrev_3lBrqgCVk3VUK9KalgRXQdiKb4/s1600/Will+095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnw-SfogzFAG9f2kwq1ZesTmwoM_ITvSsvQehX8YYmIkTDk6gD8dy-0J2JekiLs4DVWvJH8A0rjTpBhbGKoeJlG16tK5zL4apHcWwt5VsGXPvEFrev_3lBrqgCVk3VUK9KalgRXQdiKb4/s640/Will+095.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Cupcakes were carrot cupcakes, regular size and minis with homemade white icing and topped with leaf paper punches in yellow, orange and brown. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm8-s0aS5NzZBdExWthu_gkkgV1QHLCpwYCkTwFHgYkRf_Br4cmc7VVWPJcjvMLBJIrw1JGnREpS8qX_fo_zAhxu5vhrAnmT6HosouPMDu_fL3QLydDw0LrsayPzKfGL6875DJM0NZUzg/s1600/Will+194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm8-s0aS5NzZBdExWthu_gkkgV1QHLCpwYCkTwFHgYkRf_Br4cmc7VVWPJcjvMLBJIrw1JGnREpS8qX_fo_zAhxu5vhrAnmT6HosouPMDu_fL3QLydDw0LrsayPzKfGL6875DJM0NZUzg/s640/Will+194.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Treats were the cutest little Turkey Cookies that I snagged from <a href="http://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/easy-turkey-cookies/710f0c85-c9a6-4023-913e-dd70d67b3798?parent={18059825-F6AC-4A21-9B02-69165A3D4884}&gp={EC022BB0-909E-4B64-BE40-42D2A671702C}">Betty Crocker online</a>! They'd be perfect for a Thanksgiving Day activity with older kids. My Mother-In-Law and I whipped up 39 of them in 3 hours two days before the party.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrk3w-y87ju9lCPkOEKys7JTOn_tLgUTchfLu-WZW9USFunS_kjqeeu8b4h1LwCIRZPM_IhzOV85q3t-E_s2IebcvcNM3uwH7X6dmVj6fpB-vB4BRLHHCGLLLK8F8y6X5Cws0-kfwXV3Y/s1600/WillsFirstBirthdayPicsVids+014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrk3w-y87ju9lCPkOEKys7JTOn_tLgUTchfLu-WZW9USFunS_kjqeeu8b4h1LwCIRZPM_IhzOV85q3t-E_s2IebcvcNM3uwH7X6dmVj6fpB-vB4BRLHHCGLLLK8F8y6X5Cws0-kfwXV3Y/s640/WillsFirstBirthdayPicsVids+014.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Guests ages ranged from 2 1/2 weeks to 7 years. They played a game where they had to find "the turkey, potato and corn" (squeaky toys from Target) and they got the prize that was with it when they found it! (an <a href="http://www.whitsend.org/">Odessey cd</a> or a Punch Balloon - who doesn't love a good punch balloon?)</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzB_1FZ78xkOWFiZjciTwZN4dtHswC3ycqPcPcygxCHjKAMQas_qJp6tqq-RwtIMSnhu9pjX63Px4FDSqBkOfz1D189BbIEMD3OkBriT0yGiXL1oDO3tBy_zFg786JOT5uVwJDCOYU6Rg/s1600/game+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzB_1FZ78xkOWFiZjciTwZN4dtHswC3ycqPcPcygxCHjKAMQas_qJp6tqq-RwtIMSnhu9pjX63Px4FDSqBkOfz1D189BbIEMD3OkBriT0yGiXL1oDO3tBy_zFg786JOT5uVwJDCOYU6Rg/s640/game+collage.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">All in all I think everyone had a good time. Maybe too good. Poor Will has been "getting" teeth for about 3 weeks now and it seems to have finally gotten to the worst. He hasn't slept a whole night through in 4 days. The last two nights, he has woken up 4 times! He's getting a little on the snotty side because of it and can't breathe when he lays down at night. So he drops his paci to breathe out of his mouth and then cries because he doesn't have his paci. It's. been. miserable. He woke this morning at 12am, back to sleep until 2:30, then asleep until 4am, went back to sleep and then woke up for good at 6:25am. He cried all morning and Tyler came in and said, "if you guys need to stay home from Church today it's ok." </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Despite the permission to stay, we got up and started getting ready, only after 4 meltdowns and a total screamfest, we decided to forego church this morning. I tried.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTyXm_k8B_fiVhkZbGea0XqNZ9SfqPzHunlo5xt3PKxZvoSi_zF00Ulp9vts4ybjLOOyMTd6rW_JN2ioFTtuNnbG6fUsMXZoCHQISOBerOdWpO3qKVlMysxvYc7Gdojiqp4AN__2df74/s1600/Will%2527s+Birthday-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTyXm_k8B_fiVhkZbGea0XqNZ9SfqPzHunlo5xt3PKxZvoSi_zF00Ulp9vts4ybjLOOyMTd6rW_JN2ioFTtuNnbG6fUsMXZoCHQISOBerOdWpO3qKVlMysxvYc7Gdojiqp4AN__2df74/s640/Will%2527s+Birthday-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We sat down in the living room and nursed him, he fell asleep. I couldn't quit looking at my little boy. My baby. My sweet little man with his red curls, all asleep in my arms. <span style="font-size: large;">I love this kid, <a href="http://aheavenlycalling.blogspot.com/2010/07/first-birth-part-3.html">a year ago</a> and today too.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4bnKE1lg4BCqFoCirATkwA63o_JLaz0QuUXwso7Rl9pFuHISpV8t_FjqodBV8dC9D0rt2khmT-kbIwC9BzU5GRW_3n3qkhnyCoO7_L5U6BKakFgnC7iwFJo0uTOs-jBdESOHjS7FBok/s1600/WillsFirstBirthdayPicsVids+047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4bnKE1lg4BCqFoCirATkwA63o_JLaz0QuUXwso7Rl9pFuHISpV8t_FjqodBV8dC9D0rt2khmT-kbIwC9BzU5GRW_3n3qkhnyCoO7_L5U6BKakFgnC7iwFJo0uTOs-jBdESOHjS7FBok/s640/WillsFirstBirthdayPicsVids+047.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-63907025455288898772010-11-12T12:11:00.001-06:002010-11-12T12:13:05.474-06:00saturated in eternity<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I had a conversation with a teenage girl the other day that really opened my eyes up. We were discussing the matter of "cliques" and I ventured to say that maybe this group needed to reach out a bit more to others instead of always hanging out with the same people. The response came as follows: </span><br />
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>"Well, other people have said things about us being a clique, but we [the clique] talked about that and we decided that if we like hanging out with each other then why should we hang out with anyone else? We don't want to hang out with others because we love each other so much." (this was said in a very sweet manner, not rudely or with even an ounce of attitude)</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I sat there, hoping to interject a peice of wisdom that would be heeded by the young girl, and not stuffed under the seat to rot and decay where other "jewels" I have given end up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I started out, <em>"Well, at least you're honest...but what happens if we only 'hang out' with those that we like? We stop being a <strong>Youth Ministry</strong> and become a <strong>Youth Group</strong>. Instead of reaching out, <span style="font-size: large;">we become so exclusive that we don't minister to anyone but ourselves</span>. That's not really the purpose of the Youth Ministry." </em></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo4KjqPLI34DxtYypJGCaoTOronLzEUQY_eCfFHt6eIUhldV8Gslx2Z9hY3nxhTIMdELDLIpzUATIrm1SHNG6oQzIg7j3h4SbqXx0r4thGbOfwD1cUInKFhyphenhyphenT-ogSPUuNSSi7hbQDLkwI/s1600/Will+Cruising+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo4KjqPLI34DxtYypJGCaoTOronLzEUQY_eCfFHt6eIUhldV8Gslx2Z9hY3nxhTIMdELDLIpzUATIrm1SHNG6oQzIg7j3h4SbqXx0r4thGbOfwD1cUInKFhyphenhyphenT-ogSPUuNSSi7hbQDLkwI/s640/Will+Cruising+002.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I went on to reference a message Tyler had JUST PREACHED on Wednesday night about "Saturated In Eternity." He told the funny story of one of his high school teachers that took a bottle of Eternity cologne on a trip with him. When he opened his luggage at his destination, he discovered that his bottle of cologne had been crushed and the contents of the entire bottle were distributed somewhat overwhelmingly onto each and every single garment he owned! He washed and washed his clothes but nothing could rid the smell of "Eternity" from his clothing. When he came back to school the following week the kids were almost knocked over with the stench. "What is UP!?" they asked their teacher. He told them the story and ended with the line, "I can't help it guys, <span style="font-size: large;">it seems that wherever I go, I'm just saturated in Eternity."</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The main point of this story being that our lives are lived simply from point A to point B. Lasting about as long as a vapor of steam (James 4:14). But eternity lasts, well, forever and ever and ever and ever and well, you get the point. What we do in this life is but for a moment, but living for Christ is a life spent living for others and laying up treasure that lasts for an eternity. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Was I saying that it's wrong to have close friends? Special friendships with people that are encouraging and fellowship with those of a like mind? No, of course not. But I was saying that if those friends were true and real and worth having, those friends <strong><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">would understand</span></strong> if you chose to sit with a visitor on Wednesday night instead of with them. <span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><strong>Would understand</strong></span> you inviting someone to your house that isn't normally on your "Saturday Night Sleep-over" list. <span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><strong>Would understand</strong></span> giving a hand to a struggling fellow believer or newcomer to our church family. These are the friends that would help you to be "Saturated In Eternity" and these are the friends worth having. And if you don't have these friends, why not reach out and find some friends like that? </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwD9VzYPElu77eO74KQ2mn1EqHt8BL1FpIqzSJrHWlmxPJWkC-S3yqR4YixfYWCMkQShpT_nDqVR8z7TJgnYw20hIb97NX5mVyfmzWWJSi0fU4RtuSuIPPou79NWby5o1Az_hKF0gLprI/s1600/Will+Cruising+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwD9VzYPElu77eO74KQ2mn1EqHt8BL1FpIqzSJrHWlmxPJWkC-S3yqR4YixfYWCMkQShpT_nDqVR8z7TJgnYw20hIb97NX5mVyfmzWWJSi0fU4RtuSuIPPou79NWby5o1Az_hKF0gLprI/s640/Will+Cruising+004.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Encouraging this young girl to live out the sermon she had just heard on Wednesday was an exciting and yet, humbling experience. Why? Because I know that in my own life there are days and I might add, weeks where I lived 'in the moment' instead of 'in Eternity'. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">We are such selfish creatures. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">From the beginning of man, to the end of time, we will either continue to live for self or decide to live "Saturated In Eternity". When I drive through Chic-Fil-A next week will I selfishly take my No.1 with extra pickle and pull off or will I take the time to hand the cashier at the window a tract with the life-saving gospel of Christ? Will I lounge on the couch and spend countless hours on Facebook and Lightroom or will I sit with my child on the floor, sing Bible songs and teach him about His sweet Creator? </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrvJz2C29HqYLTTyd7P8xeL6DqiRC7ZyUaFixj9i5jo18WCcz2rdcFEze1XgKgEi937F0ugMO1feZh47wvHaIHkcuc1XgbMSLMDC00hDwVdYReYBQaHLdqoXjg8M8IETGJWEibQl8VsA/s1600/Will+Cruising+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrvJz2C29HqYLTTyd7P8xeL6DqiRC7ZyUaFixj9i5jo18WCcz2rdcFEze1XgKgEi937F0ugMO1feZh47wvHaIHkcuc1XgbMSLMDC00hDwVdYReYBQaHLdqoXjg8M8IETGJWEibQl8VsA/s640/Will+Cruising+003.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">What will you change? Will you pray and ask the Father to help you become "Saturated In Eternity" today?</span>Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-843388454681967280.post-89573976504282731532010-11-10T11:09:00.000-06:002010-11-10T11:09:52.633-06:00After The Birth, What A Family Needs...This is an amazing article that I wish I would've had when Will was born. You can bet that I will be implementing it for my next birth. Everyone is different. Some people want company, others just want peace and quiet alone with their new baby. I was the latter of the two :) A few people kept wanting to just "pop" in on me to visit...They wanted to hold the baby, which was completely understandable, but when I was exhausted and just wanted to rest with my baby, having people over to entertain was just another tiring thing.<br />
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I found this on a friend's FB page. Went to her website, copied and pasted with her permission. Please visit her site, <a href="http://www.glorialemay.com/blog/?p=34">Gloria Lemay, Birth Blog,</a> for more information!<br />
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After the Birth, what a family needs<br />
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Posted on October 28, 2008 by gloria <br />
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“Let me know if I can help you in any way when the baby is born.” … “Just let me know if you need a hand.” … “Anything I can do, just give me a call.”<br />
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Most pregnant women get these statements from friends and family but shy away from making requests when they are up to their ears in dirty laundry, unmade beds, dust bunnies and countertops crowded with dirty dishes. The myth of “I’m fine, I’m doing great, new motherhood is wonderful, I can cope and my husband is the Rock of Gibraltar” is pervasive in postpartum land. If you’re too shy to ask for help and make straight requests of people, I suggest sending the following list out to your friends and family. These are the things I have found to be missing in every house with a new baby. It’s actually easy and fun for outsiders to remedy these problems for the new parents but there seems to be a lot of confusion about what’s wanted and needed…<br />
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1. Buy us toilet paper, milk and beautiful whole grain bread. <br />
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2. Buy us a new garbage can with a swing top lid and 6 pairs of black cotton underpants (women’s size____).<br />
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3. Make us a big supper salad with feta cheese, black Kalamata olives, toasted almonds, organic green crispy things and a nice homemade dressing on the side. Drop it off and leave right away. Or, buy us frozen lasagna, garlic bread, a bag of salad, a big jug of juice, and maybe some cookies to have for dessert. Drop it off and leave right away. <br />
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4. Come over about 2 in the afternoon, hold the baby while I have a hot shower, put me to bed with the baby and then fold all the piles of laundry that have been dumped on the couch, beds or in the room corners. If there’s no laundry to fold yet, do some.<br />
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5. Come over at l0 a.m., make me eggs, toast and a 1/2 grapefruit. Clean my fridge and throw out everything you are in doubt about. Don’t ask me about anything; just use your best judgment. <br />
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6. Put a sign on my door saying “Dear Friends and Family, Mom and baby need extra rest right now. Please come back in 7 days but phone first. All donations of casserole dinners would be most welcome. Thank you for caring about this family.” <br />
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7. Come over in your work clothes and vacuum and dust my house and then leave quietly. It’s tiring for me to chat and have tea with visitors but it will renew my soul to get some rest knowing I will wake up to clean, organized space. <br />
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8. Take my older kids for a really fun-filled afternoon to a park, zoo or Science World and feed them <strong>healthy food.</strong><br />
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9. Come over and give my husband a two hour break so he can go to a coffee shop, hockey rink or some other R&R that will delight him. Fold more laundry. <br />
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10. Make me a giant pot of vegetable soup and clean the kitchen completely afterwards. Take a big garbage bag and empty every trash basket in the house and reline with fresh bags.<br />
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These are the kindnesses that new families remember and appreciate forever. It’s easy to spend money on gifts but the things that really make a difference are the services for the body and soul described above. Most of your friends and family members don’t know what they can do that won’t be an intrusion. They also can’t devote 40 hours to supporting you but they would be thrilled to devote 4 hours. If you let 10 people help you out for 4 hours, you will have the 40 hours of rested, adult support you really need with a newborn in the house. There’s magic in the little prayer “I need help.”<br />
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First Posted Aug 2001Torihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09922033404830258030noreply@blogger.com2