tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361386372024-03-07T13:30:55.154-06:00it's a girls worldi live in a house consisting of 4 girls and one boy who we all love...except I call him my soulmate and they just call him daddy. so this blog is just a teensy little glimpse into the amazing, "drama" filled, wonderful, and somewhat entertaining world of the miller girls...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger201125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-47471835091660487782012-09-05T11:08:00.001-05:002012-09-05T11:08:38.844-05:00Macie's First DayI love the quote by Elizabeth Stone that says, "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body".<br />
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My heart boarded a bus this morning... And in the words of her dad, "the big yellow bus that may as well have been taking her to prison". Now, we of course, know school is a wonderful place and a great adventure for Macie that she will love. But...when her face went from smiles, to nervous giggles, to all out tears, the bus sure did feel like some strange torture mobile.<br />
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Just as I was offering to drive her, she took those steps with the help of her big sister and was on her way. I am sure she did great today. I am sure she loved kindergarten. And I am sure Jamie and I will be okay, too. But I am counting down the 20 minutes until that little, adorable piece of my heart comes home and I get to hear all about it.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-55988264042741917452012-09-04T12:13:00.000-05:002012-09-04T12:13:28.180-05:00New BeginningsIt has been an emotional week--all good emotions, but emotions nonetheless. It started with the open houses and then hit complete wreck on Sunday night when Tori and Isabelle (along with our dear friend Alex) were baptized during our church's gathering. I could not think of a better way to send them off for this school year. We have had a great summer and I am so proud of them and excited for what God has in store for their 4th and 6th grade years.<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3xCOvwzXHIzzq9OvDkFrgA52LwuZpBiR2gftCEj_GD2ntlw22d4VdkoTMp5MEzU_2UIsjq0MFYlGtxv1QxJr5s4I2FRTuATi-sSD9tHeQMmBg-Q1rTsCcnZBNbNORytNdJ_7qiw/s1600/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3xCOvwzXHIzzq9OvDkFrgA52LwuZpBiR2gftCEj_GD2ntlw22d4VdkoTMp5MEzU_2UIsjq0MFYlGtxv1QxJr5s4I2FRTuATi-sSD9tHeQMmBg-Q1rTsCcnZBNbNORytNdJ_7qiw/s200/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+017.jpg" width="132" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifz1d2b-V95d4BKhP7MB4qxu_5PYqx8wMr-vdo-NNx4uf0y3oCtiWOzLCMZ8g8lXqo0mmIRcHWjjdOCO4SRpsPDts3XFiEfDwpvV5idvGfPWojkFojL8CT6KdM4e1-Chn4w4GYQ/s1600/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifz1d2b-V95d4BKhP7MB4qxu_5PYqx8wMr-vdo-NNx4uf0y3oCtiWOzLCMZ8g8lXqo0mmIRcHWjjdOCO4SRpsPDts3XFiEfDwpvV5idvGfPWojkFojL8CT6KdM4e1-Chn4w4GYQ/s200/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+016.jpg" width="132" /></a>Tori and Isabelle headed back to school today and once again they proved how very different they are. Tori was up an hour and a half before her bus came to get ready and make sure everything was set for her day. She had chosen her outfit the night before and had me iron her shorts so she looked just right. She was nervous, but mostly excited. Her eyes had that glimmer in them just like when she went to kindergarten for the first time. She kindly asked that Jamie and I NOT walk her down to the bus stop to which we kindly told her "not a chance". I have no doubt she will do embrace middle school and all its new adventures and possibilities, except the boys, she can completely avoid the boys. :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAniTaZzNbqpBwa1hZY16skBtVJaJ8s-ePyVghiS3Vl9tMwefdKtYqJ2GCBMxem3JandIXU0oG6YUuPOIu4-uEGQ8W7UXJmt_GsfO0AhPWeNS9IJVl2JbCdzK0x3jUT3Ppvj6og/s1600/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAniTaZzNbqpBwa1hZY16skBtVJaJ8s-ePyVghiS3Vl9tMwefdKtYqJ2GCBMxem3JandIXU0oG6YUuPOIu4-uEGQ8W7UXJmt_GsfO0AhPWeNS9IJVl2JbCdzK0x3jUT3Ppvj6og/s200/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+023.jpg" width="132" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnojutu5l0kMZH2j9iKkO3-pCTcbPvHajF-XjRrmrH5HQWLDPj3WU7eY5_yctF0rEFL217x_WNW2gZooeZq-lQv-e1rgnVrC7SFfIyAZ-gFuubj4fh6z-igVXxV0O2XJ0kapvGtA/s1600/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnojutu5l0kMZH2j9iKkO3-pCTcbPvHajF-XjRrmrH5HQWLDPj3WU7eY5_yctF0rEFL217x_WNW2gZooeZq-lQv-e1rgnVrC7SFfIyAZ-gFuubj4fh6z-igVXxV0O2XJ0kapvGtA/s200/Baptism+and+First+day+of+School+020.jpg" width="132" /></a>Isabelle, who started school an hour later, did not make the Tori-bus goodbye as she was awake (barely), but definitely not mobile. Tori had woken her up with a loud, gonging bell that our friend Heather gave us to help with the transition back to school a little before she left and Isabelle looked up, gave a not-so-happy face, and covered her head again with the covers. :) I asked Isabelle yesterday what she wanted to wear for her first day and she replied, "What is the big deal...it is just another day". And so it is. I love to make a big deal of little things so I sort of want to dress her up like my little baby doll, but I also love that Isabelle just doesn't really care what people think of her or what she is wearing. She picked out one of her usual outfits, put her hair in its usual style, and we all walked her to the bus stop. As I took her pictures, she tried to be "frowny" about going to school, but I know she will love it once she gets over not being able to sleep in. She loaded the bus and we came inside and there on the table was her lunch box. Oh dear...I am sure she will survive the year at elementary without big sister Tori taking care of her, but as of today, I am not so sure how. :)</div>
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p.s. And in case you are wondering why there are no pics of Macie today, that is because she officially starts tomorrow. She and I had a small orientation for an hour this morning, but so far it feels like any other year when the girls head off and me and my little buddy hang out all day. :)<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-67079567056551080142012-06-07T17:05:00.002-05:002012-06-07T17:05:28.520-05:00A Closed Chapter....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNExTfnQ8mk4rkKf2_3fEhsJSdM1Sq42CPF2SHm8QFBtaNOCtwWnjQc_t68HsIgxUK5lSe7ZpFVjh3lfZ9Gc2QgR3re5DnPXXwQWd2_NKtEvDX7SO-iVxLT1al65swZ7VhU7YWQ/s1600/232323232%7Ffp357%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3234-245%3C362%3Cnu0mrj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNExTfnQ8mk4rkKf2_3fEhsJSdM1Sq42CPF2SHm8QFBtaNOCtwWnjQc_t68HsIgxUK5lSe7ZpFVjh3lfZ9Gc2QgR3re5DnPXXwQWd2_NKtEvDX7SO-iVxLT1al65swZ7VhU7YWQ/s320/232323232%7Ffp357%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3234-245%3C362%3Cnu0mrj.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kindergarten - Ms. Sickman</td></tr>
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Six years ago a starry-eyed 5 year old boarded the bus without even bothering to turn around and wave to mom and dad watching from the sidewalk...<br />
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Each year would bring anxious anticipation and a little fear as she would meet a new teacher and join a new class of students. Each year she thought they would never compare to the year before. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xo5OoVYGf4yeRO-Uoo8EXoxHd0-Wl54br1i9wcTykOhWeNQzgNrNIL92dYWMWVWW-Xfnnj6KEiuS2xMb0mVJK1BL4MYFKxFwdtlE2RwWSHBFnse-Vgct1M-pXYLM5-41MAz4lA/s1600/232323232%7Ffp3%3C-%3Enu=3236%3E7-8%3E664%3E23277-8755593ot1lsi.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xo5OoVYGf4yeRO-Uoo8EXoxHd0-Wl54br1i9wcTykOhWeNQzgNrNIL92dYWMWVWW-Xfnnj6KEiuS2xMb0mVJK1BL4MYFKxFwdtlE2RwWSHBFnse-Vgct1M-pXYLM5-41MAz4lA/s320/232323232%7Ffp3%3C-%3Enu=3236%3E7-8%3E664%3E23277-8755593ot1lsi.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Grade- Mr. Suzuki</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRxYrDm0_bUe-7f92_qfl9Llh3OSQcH4bP520SVkaQTzAowLVTzi4YKQlTWYtXEOLPft1_jAyRj-eutAbqkNFxRzLHDx-9vS4qr28Qw-k_oYqqiJ0VErnYgeO6WTgROvKiQRYYg/s1600/232323232%7Ffp3%3C5%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3236763;6965;nu0mrj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRxYrDm0_bUe-7f92_qfl9Llh3OSQcH4bP520SVkaQTzAowLVTzi4YKQlTWYtXEOLPft1_jAyRj-eutAbqkNFxRzLHDx-9vS4qr28Qw-k_oYqqiJ0VErnYgeO6WTgROvKiQRYYg/s320/232323232%7Ffp3%3C5%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3236763;6965;nu0mrj.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Grade</td></tr>
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And each and EVERY year I would comfort a crying girl as she walked off the bus having said goodbye to the teacher and classmates that had found their permanent place in her little heart.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE9NcXZW51sFXAj4T0JSe6tGg-TKNut_EieJ8EpKBYLc_jQoeUDn0RpbfpCsfNqOnOxUW3GuYDhwrVsB_cw1dkXtd1i4eFVYJ5OHkUFiUuxwRFvXJODtrCadmV7miVHsDN8cUOQ/s1600/232323232%7Ffp53456%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3238;;7575%3C;%3Cnu0mrj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE9NcXZW51sFXAj4T0JSe6tGg-TKNut_EieJ8EpKBYLc_jQoeUDn0RpbfpCsfNqOnOxUW3GuYDhwrVsB_cw1dkXtd1i4eFVYJ5OHkUFiUuxwRFvXJODtrCadmV7miVHsDN8cUOQ/s320/232323232%7Ffp53456%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3238;;7575%3C;%3Cnu0mrj.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second Grade- Ms. Jocketty</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrOGZBIvzKpkoKRHftLKp2Ejpw0SHTrysEHyIgfivDGLVpqShAf_kJB1MLLjgUcM5SCMdf5gYe8lSu06ylrvgmMFkqOxyQ6Lr9ziqoVA64D0kWE5WzYFk4YJtoPTdgT6Vt8oQLg/s1600/232323232%7Ffp6327-%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=33%3C838444732;nu0mrj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrOGZBIvzKpkoKRHftLKp2Ejpw0SHTrysEHyIgfivDGLVpqShAf_kJB1MLLjgUcM5SCMdf5gYe8lSu06ylrvgmMFkqOxyQ6Lr9ziqoVA64D0kWE5WzYFk4YJtoPTdgT6Vt8oQLg/s320/232323232%7Ffp6327-%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=33%3C838444732;nu0mrj.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Third Grade- Mr. Bonnett</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_3rKYaVizu05VhvHGW1IiZpvT4O865G56iX2ymUunTDRkvhRDlDOLaqavgfJeXVfhlINICZiij4Nz1pnyEZ-QxI6fmSjHcHlFIepKG8KsuS1NFnOHlWs4_9-tB-gPRwVH6Bchw/s1600/232323232%7Ffp63258%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=33%3C838445532;nu0mrj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_3rKYaVizu05VhvHGW1IiZpvT4O865G56iX2ymUunTDRkvhRDlDOLaqavgfJeXVfhlINICZiij4Nz1pnyEZ-QxI6fmSjHcHlFIepKG8KsuS1NFnOHlWs4_9-tB-gPRwVH6Bchw/s320/232323232%7Ffp63258%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=33%3C838445532;nu0mrj.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Third Grade</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOs9KbCVI-9dYAek1eE374MDamTUfX8iOZ22G-a74Pf3baM-ebBWiuplwuxEhDbaWHTKJQe7Ftx-1U7uyOdJ-bBRPqs3RDFgr5Aa8jDfVrHathz71vYMWGS-c430iA31xRAwozg/s1600/232323232%7Ffp63258%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3533%3C6-65832;nu0mrj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOs9KbCVI-9dYAek1eE374MDamTUfX8iOZ22G-a74Pf3baM-ebBWiuplwuxEhDbaWHTKJQe7Ftx-1U7uyOdJ-bBRPqs3RDFgr5Aa8jDfVrHathz71vYMWGS-c430iA31xRAwozg/s320/232323232%7Ffp63258%3Enu=3269%3E5-2%3E536%3EWSNRCG=3533%3C6-65832;nu0mrj.jpeg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0sPmdkGvVMwLrX97oDo_TPmIOCt7k71SFpzu4q5FrsRiFZeYmkEUFVGkCT0p35fVdm0UbjLWn4zZt2s8hHaiSxsvqA_kwLIPdZocUXuQsZO0etI_JUIx5T4dM2E6MPIWcc8MIZg/s1600/DSC_0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0sPmdkGvVMwLrX97oDo_TPmIOCt7k71SFpzu4q5FrsRiFZeYmkEUFVGkCT0p35fVdm0UbjLWn4zZt2s8hHaiSxsvqA_kwLIPdZocUXuQsZO0etI_JUIx5T4dM2E6MPIWcc8MIZg/s320/DSC_0029.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Fifth Grade- Ms. Stori</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Today a teary-eyed 11 year old said goodbye to the teachers, staff, and friends that she has met along the way. Thanks for the memories...</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGIQhGzkUDSKe-BnqRsqi1g3kt51UatZW-awsrTokUq1TsugPx88eLq1NmEbNpYDyXcaROSR4xxaMtkbLXh9-igaIeCtv_oHBrMZbBVT0izHIjpOprE9bwVuvgPkFzTxm-en0pA/s1600/DSC_0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGIQhGzkUDSKe-BnqRsqi1g3kt51UatZW-awsrTokUq1TsugPx88eLq1NmEbNpYDyXcaROSR4xxaMtkbLXh9-igaIeCtv_oHBrMZbBVT0izHIjpOprE9bwVuvgPkFzTxm-en0pA/s320/DSC_0027.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="142" /></a><br /><br />Good-bye elementary....<br />.....hello middle school??? (heaven help us all) ;)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-34181732226907400892012-06-04T15:08:00.001-05:002012-06-04T15:08:54.834-05:00Memorial Day 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I am operating a little behind schedule this year if you haven't noticed. We have been enjoying soccer, end of school activities, and this beautiful Minnesota spring. Life is truly sweet. </div>
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Memorial Day, especially, seemed to sneak up on us this year, but as usual we took the time to go to the National Cemetery here in Minnesota to remember the men and women who have served our country. It has become a cherished tradition for our family. This year I was struck by the words engraved on each headstone. I imagine family members put great thought into what few words they could put that would encapsulate their loved one and their life. The words still probably don't do justice, but I found them to be an incredible tribute. Happy summer...</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-66491462646276157272012-04-07T21:33:00.000-05:002012-04-07T21:33:16.024-05:00It is well known that in 5 short months our sweet little Mace is headed off to Kindergarten. *sigh* And until that time I for one will be making every effort to soak in the imaginations of her magical, unadulterated little mind. So, while many of you and others all over the world are celebrating Easter this weekend, the Millers are celebrating the last ever Brewster.<br />
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You see, last year, after Easter was over, Macie and I were home and she wanted to read the "Brewster" book. For the life of me I could not figure out what in the world she was talking about, so I had her go get this mystery "Brewster" book for me. Lo and behold she brought down her <i>Easter </i>book. I just figured , okay, whatever, she got the word wrong and I just let it go figuring it would be forgotten by this year. Well, a month or so ago, she began asking me if it was almost time for Brewster. I couldn't believe she was still calling it that so I told Jamie and we got a good chuckle about how our girls always seem to rename things. We were going to correct her, but I just sort of love her 5 year old mind and the amazing and creative thing that it is. So, as I have often done with our girls, I sort of encouraged the whole Brewster thing. Jamie fought it at first, but then sentiment took over and he realized this will most likely be the last Brewster ever. Next year when she hits school there is no way we can have her call it "Brewster" when everyone around her will be calling it Easter, just like Tori and Isabelle had to learn that garbage does not go in the "frash can" and you are not reading this blog on a "macuter". Growing up happens....but not quite yet. ;)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJOfAodTbwaHz6WZuq9z4ScH3TWHVGTNIcbc_QTImBUF1baza3_TValwH6VJPz9vDNRWJLUZu30kK6iUxMkVO9RdQA7REUeVIr4xWjtPVuK6pfAWs_ef2GUQWxgtvonUVW9Dsgg/s1600/Picture+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJOfAodTbwaHz6WZuq9z4ScH3TWHVGTNIcbc_QTImBUF1baza3_TValwH6VJPz9vDNRWJLUZu30kK6iUxMkVO9RdQA7REUeVIr4xWjtPVuK6pfAWs_ef2GUQWxgtvonUVW9Dsgg/s320/Picture+010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So I hope you have a wonderful and blessed Brewster. And most of all I pray you embrace the full and beautiful life that is ours because of the death and resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ.<br />
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Much love,<br />
GretchenUnknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-11085492147560964852011-11-30T20:40:00.000-06:002011-11-30T20:40:29.508-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwzsoeSpx099UFpCgZnUEYhF132MmyEDX5sbcLGK69H71deYTbmYQjTJqrrrlaDmAJjtyQ3jUXMZqUvPQ75jkPR0aq1Y-ghUmYrUua2nemQbK8VQwyIBeD7NaqvGBeQMmzWNpAhw/s1600/DSC_0418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwzsoeSpx099UFpCgZnUEYhF132MmyEDX5sbcLGK69H71deYTbmYQjTJqrrrlaDmAJjtyQ3jUXMZqUvPQ75jkPR0aq1Y-ghUmYrUua2nemQbK8VQwyIBeD7NaqvGBeQMmzWNpAhw/s320/DSC_0418.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> As the last moments of November slip away, I had to share something that just makes my heart melt into thanksgiving. Family is a high value to Jamie and me, so that means for us that we are rarely home in Minnesota over the holidays, but rather we hit to the road to spend time with family. This Thanksgiving we were in good ol' Iowa with my family and we had a wonderful time. Even more so, the kids had a wonderful time and that makes my heart super happy (to borrow a quote from Kailan). I am so thankful for precious cousin bonding and for the genuine love all the kids feel for each other. We have much to be thankful for.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6enM_OZezR9dndG8WscrIzLj-GH2HLrRn0eS1fYN208My6gjrX3_6NsrgLGM11GnzxIIIQnfZZQgWKlZkvJ6fw-3EkDohD51GBuWkDqq71LnqRmqVcVqyrjZlOXtXfJmDMRx7yw/s1600/DSC_0528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6enM_OZezR9dndG8WscrIzLj-GH2HLrRn0eS1fYN208My6gjrX3_6NsrgLGM11GnzxIIIQnfZZQgWKlZkvJ6fw-3EkDohD51GBuWkDqq71LnqRmqVcVqyrjZlOXtXfJmDMRx7yw/s320/DSC_0528.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>Let the Advent season begin!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-49156166424744634312011-09-12T15:57:00.000-05:002011-09-12T15:57:38.245-05:00Deep Breath. :)<br />
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Last week was the start of school, the start of 2 girls in soccer, and the start of a new part-time work-from-home job for me. I think it took a little longer than usual to find our school groove, but I think I am finally finding my stride. So a little delayed, but not too bad- the first day of school post. :)<br />
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The first day of school was not nearly as highly anticipated as in years past. I think they were both a little nervous because we missed the back to school picnic and they were completely dependent on Jamie to tell them who their teachers were and what friends were in their classes (he got the teachers down, but the friends piece was pretty much a total loss). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHXFbVoDInHIkpQ0eGT-ir0L3_EVNA8dEaws80vHffJcPTKEpW8pVszkDgkWfUgLCF4NkXl7T-OE9KcFkW9VdfhbY9fuOWJnnBt9qOlExtJi2GnRPjtJWlsq_0jHkZWJIHFm34g/s1600/IMG_0837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHXFbVoDInHIkpQ0eGT-ir0L3_EVNA8dEaws80vHffJcPTKEpW8pVszkDgkWfUgLCF4NkXl7T-OE9KcFkW9VdfhbY9fuOWJnnBt9qOlExtJi2GnRPjtJWlsq_0jHkZWJIHFm34g/s200/IMG_0837.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One last sister group hug...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4x_UoNWGwN3pDfE_zdgT_Kf2LGybk_tbUzlvduFLgjXhFQuYSbI_c9ynLEvru_YwSYATVV20XvE6wzOsMbqJQZeFWGxopG2Ep3hTwEJovwAJVf31HU4z6TGXS9lEkqIu_moXaw/s1600/IMG_0831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4x_UoNWGwN3pDfE_zdgT_Kf2LGybk_tbUzlvduFLgjXhFQuYSbI_c9ynLEvru_YwSYATVV20XvE6wzOsMbqJQZeFWGxopG2Ep3hTwEJovwAJVf31HU4z6TGXS9lEkqIu_moXaw/s200/IMG_0831.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3rd grade</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfaFxaG98hYJHzfJ94al2Em7GFB0pbDjjJqlYKlO5jTUE27YQYI72xri5ApIbhQcNJG7jMie1SjFanOTbW1hW6gX6lAHreCWlwoPoS18dqp_sf5uT5tmKK5DOcgx8GwJrAFIEZQ/s1600/IMG_0839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfaFxaG98hYJHzfJ94al2Em7GFB0pbDjjJqlYKlO5jTUE27YQYI72xri5ApIbhQcNJG7jMie1SjFanOTbW1hW6gX6lAHreCWlwoPoS18dqp_sf5uT5tmKK5DOcgx8GwJrAFIEZQ/s200/IMG_0839.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5th grade</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Last year, we found ourselves running frantically to the bus stop to make it in time, so this year I was more than ahead of schedule for our pick-up. We arrived about 5 minutes early and waited patiently. I snapped all the usual pictures and waited for the bus to come over the horizon to get that final shot of them loading the bus. So we wait and wait. And twenty minutes later, Jamie has abandoned the wait and wished the girls well on their first day. I begin to get a little antsy and concede that maybe somehow I had missed the bus or messed up the time and we head back to the house so I could drive them. No worries- we would just regroup and take the loading the bus picture on day 2 of school. They arrived to school on time and thus begins the 2011-2012 school year. One week in and they are doing great. I am excited to see how they will learn and grow this year.<br />
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A 3rd and a 5th grader--how did that happen? I remember when Tori walked down this sidewalk as a kindergartner....sigh.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: right;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bRQDfscdrnuZyzd2p2yWAHqU9g9uL_BETCQ9HUyj4uope6v8zsSzbRAo99ZS9q70k5BRnEpsro9zrEBIukLBDiVCXBdUh0KnfBQsCSQ8I5-NffQpsoRls70wtvoiSrHMVz8SVA/s1600/IMG_0832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bRQDfscdrnuZyzd2p2yWAHqU9g9uL_BETCQ9HUyj4uope6v8zsSzbRAo99ZS9q70k5BRnEpsro9zrEBIukLBDiVCXBdUh0KnfBQsCSQ8I5-NffQpsoRls70wtvoiSrHMVz8SVA/s320/IMG_0832.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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(Note: I did not miss the bus. The bus finally passed our house about 25 minutes after our scheduled pick up, but there was no way the girls (or I) could have waited that one out).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-64473403462217835942011-09-04T15:32:00.001-05:002011-09-04T15:32:55.068-05:00It is almost more than one mama can bear. I mean really--look at these little cleats!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqu6JpBGY0rYnZUPqQ3UqxBZygLPulUOve_IHxl4iNyHqZVtcd3gRdFH4Fnsxw4nzx0BJkCO5LSObNLLEvDRZOL4gMTNopoRvqr5L6bn0mXgh3FyeM0rul8d-DDM5EGeqWVbD-g/s1600/IMG_0814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqu6JpBGY0rYnZUPqQ3UqxBZygLPulUOve_IHxl4iNyHqZVtcd3gRdFH4Fnsxw4nzx0BJkCO5LSObNLLEvDRZOL4gMTNopoRvqr5L6bn0mXgh3FyeM0rul8d-DDM5EGeqWVbD-g/s320/IMG_0814.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And wait for it.....</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3DC0SN36huJAHZQz4SCWkIplOviMSjETZSfUay0Q5bwDDEtffUq9-rJrgPPOs2AyXf51VZtdybGB2HRgXTSTZXyVHBwn-Q87QiLeM_JuuRLPwMLQE1FefcbyZIi4SLObEuu8myA/s1600/IMG_0793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3DC0SN36huJAHZQz4SCWkIplOviMSjETZSfUay0Q5bwDDEtffUq9-rJrgPPOs2AyXf51VZtdybGB2HRgXTSTZXyVHBwn-Q87QiLeM_JuuRLPwMLQE1FefcbyZIi4SLObEuu8myA/s400/IMG_0793.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Look at that little soccer player- I think she is pretty much the cutest little thing on two legs. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
Her soccer team name is the Minnows, and I can't say I know a lot about minnows, but the name just seems to fit.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfbTZOqpT-JAe-DU7NTTZ2YglW9xsRhCQxvx9xduKH7EpuDE2aNlAPUoo2e5UyiME6e7pO5YcUZg7d7Y7mbKrAAZtI0X_T55AlU0gNlF68ItjtYL7O5W_W0jPL8FNZlJr2aAbPQ/s1600/IMG_0795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfbTZOqpT-JAe-DU7NTTZ2YglW9xsRhCQxvx9xduKH7EpuDE2aNlAPUoo2e5UyiME6e7pO5YcUZg7d7Y7mbKrAAZtI0X_T55AlU0gNlF68ItjtYL7O5W_W0jPL8FNZlJr2aAbPQ/s200/IMG_0795.JPG" width="150" /></a>Saturday morning was Macie's first game and the whole family walked down to the soccer field to cheer her on. Big sister Tori helped Macie get warmed up for the game and her coach led them in a few warm up drills before they lined up to play. The team they were playing against was the Missiles, and I am going to say that unfortunately for the Minnows, that name pretty much fit, too. The whistle blew and the two forwards from the Missiles dash down the field and kick the ball in the goal before Macie's Minnow team had time to stop smiling at their parents on the sidelines. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKZPjHTlB2EWz8FTP3tlm3TNeNsNOeiWBqnk0FPwGeOB6W2BOiiubEw2gqlRAfLT3QKP6dolhNtwowwO_oyhrolkOIlse3FRUJvX_lUy-dwcvumMitoKMD9bJqkCPFF0kyPuUIg/s1600/IMG_0810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKZPjHTlB2EWz8FTP3tlm3TNeNsNOeiWBqnk0FPwGeOB6W2BOiiubEw2gqlRAfLT3QKP6dolhNtwowwO_oyhrolkOIlse3FRUJvX_lUy-dwcvumMitoKMD9bJqkCPFF0kyPuUIg/s200/IMG_0810.JPG" width="150" /></a>The whole game went about that way. One little girl on Macie's team had a little breakaway, but tripped over her feet and gave the ball back to the striking Missiles. And Macie took off one time with the ball, but sadly she was headed in the wrong direction. Thankfully, she was having fun and still had a smile on her face as she ran around the field, completely oblivious to the fact they were probably losing 8 or so to nothing. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5Dul-mg4FB_xSrL0UmjRpp4sELI33d6w2DW83ViAAfN8V0pcvhFR7WBX6NanUANYSnIZHsypfcGzicgKwC5EaR0PPBKZHXWJ890QydOZlgxAVsLViYymyXgzeI4rEO5MtUF6Pg/s1600/IMG_0813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5Dul-mg4FB_xSrL0UmjRpp4sELI33d6w2DW83ViAAfN8V0pcvhFR7WBX6NanUANYSnIZHsypfcGzicgKwC5EaR0PPBKZHXWJ890QydOZlgxAVsLViYymyXgzeI4rEO5MtUF6Pg/s320/IMG_0813.JPG" width="240" /></a>Near the end of the game, Macie took her turn as goalie. She had a grossly oversized tie-dye shirt on and Jamie showed her how to be down in ready position. Sure enough the Missiles had a breakaway and kicked the ball at the goal. Macie reached down with her hands and stopped it. We cheered like crazy. She looked over to smile- you know that half nervous, half happy smile- and put the ball back down on the ground. The little boy on the Missile team took advantage of her kind gesture and kicked it in the goal. Macie was still half smiling at us on the sidelines. Oops. They line back up again and we tell Macie to get ready. Jamie instructs her from the sidelines that if someone kicks it at the goal and she stops it, she needs to hold on to it and not let go until they tell her to. She is down and ready and once again along comes another Missile breakaway. A pretty decent sized little boy heads right for my little Mace standing in a ready position in the goal. Macie moves forward and grabs the ball as the little boy goes to strike. She holds on to it just like her Daddy told her and the boy lands right on top of her. We cheer wildly. She stands up, holding on to the ball- this time 15% smiling (because we are cheering) and 85% ready to burst into tears. I can see them start to well up in her eyes and she moves her tongue along the inside of her lip like she always does when she is fighting back tears. Her coach, who is an incredibly sweet man, leans over and gives her a shoulder hug and tells her what a great job she did. She looks over at us on the sidelines. We keep cheering. She is completely unsure as to what just happened. My heart is somewhere in my throat at that point and I am pulling my hat down to hide the tears that are welling up in my own eyes. I stand eagerly at the sidelines with Jamie firmly speaking in my hearing, "Don't you even think of going out there- You leave her be. Don't even think about it. Don't baby her."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So, I wait like a good girl by the sidelines and watch as my little soccer goalie gives the other team high fives and retrieves her snack. I give her a big hug, tell her how proud I am of her, and pull her home in the wagon. She tells me she had fun.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZ16xk_15-UK_Umiw4No-hT943M88Cj8rhrsIuTQfbecCUOBZb4FsZVKenHaiNs2AU4aaGPgANbbqBWkdlzueWcGwEIA5vWChkweqMCB1095sLDgk-_QTC6TCMbbFK7Z3A5w81Q/s1600/IMG_0809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZ16xk_15-UK_Umiw4No-hT943M88Cj8rhrsIuTQfbecCUOBZb4FsZVKenHaiNs2AU4aaGPgANbbqBWkdlzueWcGwEIA5vWChkweqMCB1095sLDgk-_QTC6TCMbbFK7Z3A5w81Q/s200/IMG_0809.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I am not sure I will endure the season without overflowing and exploding with love for this child. She captures my heart over and over again with her little ways. I never realized just how hard it is to be a soccer mom. :)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-47766203873888383032011-07-27T10:31:00.001-05:002011-07-27T10:32:19.136-05:00The girls can't think of a whole lot of good reasons to leave Grandma and Papa's house and come home. As they get older, they are less and less convinced that living at Grandma's house all the time would not be a good idea. I will not ask for her opinions on that matter; she is probably still sleeping to recover from their visit last week. :)<br />
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And while I sometimes wonder why we are not a little closer to family myself, I have found coming home to have one particular benefit when it comes to the girls. In Ohio, it is cousin central. There is a cousin to match each of my girls and then some. They literally disappear into cousin world (with some occasional Grandma and Papa time) and then reappear as we load the van to go home. They do not spend a whole lot of time playing together in Ohio because there are way too many other people to play with, BUT when they come home, it is like they are reacquainting with an old friend. For at least a few days after we return, I do not hear that they are bored or that they want to go somewhere; they are normally lost somewhere in their rooms or outside playing make believe together. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46pdci5ZtsJK-TXMqYIu_QQol8OommtI4zXcqTMr5mntUkP4-URLtsFkh0a-zPfUxoprjS9ce4H2xaZqSrp2-AsPYhqMItE07a6m77rcmjdsX3q_qxEbKGCpp8aQmtfMU8VS0hw/s1600/IMG_0685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46pdci5ZtsJK-TXMqYIu_QQol8OommtI4zXcqTMr5mntUkP4-URLtsFkh0a-zPfUxoprjS9ce4H2xaZqSrp2-AsPYhqMItE07a6m77rcmjdsX3q_qxEbKGCpp8aQmtfMU8VS0hw/s200/IMG_0685.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jFeMhjbjy0fbf37aNE5pofVlyvFfbIMN5f7RJbbCM8mnpZRN3O6UQCv4OH-JG25Fn41icPoVftC9WAEt2ZqbUeaojGUSfftRVk6JRZDQVsQFbQZrkOlfEpktaApCyddMZY-Qww/s1600/IMG_0680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jFeMhjbjy0fbf37aNE5pofVlyvFfbIMN5f7RJbbCM8mnpZRN3O6UQCv4OH-JG25Fn41icPoVftC9WAEt2ZqbUeaojGUSfftRVk6JRZDQVsQFbQZrkOlfEpktaApCyddMZY-Qww/s200/IMG_0680.JPG" width="200" /></a>This particular return from Ohio has brought on a new, be it somewhat frightening, new game of "salon". Tori is the salon owner and the other two are her willing patrons. This is a double win for me as it kept them occupied and it also got them to wash, condition, and brush their hair. And if you would have seen Macie's hair when we got home you would know how much of a win that is. :)<br />
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So, they visited the salon, then had a photo shoot, a dance party, and a concert.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0oUkdkYWBumj7UWX0QbxNiVvj9kBXlezhk85sXOoFXxIQ9AfwwftDHYUMrvPkPWYHYSnIcULFKqlJzZ3HX5McKxWyI_dM-ZdYYKqsUQ1vQ_Ayc12JuXB08EsJgnTsRc5_6Ce6Q/s1600/IMG_0700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0oUkdkYWBumj7UWX0QbxNiVvj9kBXlezhk85sXOoFXxIQ9AfwwftDHYUMrvPkPWYHYSnIcULFKqlJzZ3HX5McKxWyI_dM-ZdYYKqsUQ1vQ_Ayc12JuXB08EsJgnTsRc5_6Ce6Q/s200/IMG_0700.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBtXYpy6WolT9_-DBJ2wqaNccnopn5FIzU5CGL920qBiGlb9xQedllk4Sf2jB_EUgzW7jCprp-t8Pnvo0HOuqpcRBQ41sGyskB1yZKSHre-TFoZgGjR8BXrF7d4M0Lv6acG7DbA/s1600/IMG_0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBtXYpy6WolT9_-DBJ2wqaNccnopn5FIzU5CGL920qBiGlb9xQedllk4Sf2jB_EUgzW7jCprp-t8Pnvo0HOuqpcRBQ41sGyskB1yZKSHre-TFoZgGjR8BXrF7d4M0Lv6acG7DbA/s200/IMG_0706.JPG" width="200" /></a>So, imagine away little girls. I am so glad that God gave you so many wonderful cousins and friends in Ohio- people that you truly love and enjoy spending time with. But I am also so thankful that God gave you each other to play and enjoy life with right here at home.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-1663799852176232132011-07-10T08:11:00.000-05:002011-07-10T08:11:58.450-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWt8QkJSbL9GW1zWKJNzKv4ap_qrYpNJJA_U5yZ10pvy1RqJBGp5-yDy6YKJII1O4vdVWOTFziJng5tMCXMMOVBxLOU7dgKH-dk1ti6yXCl4YOtNqE5Ykcf7Mvlm4qfGgNICiQQ/s1600/IMG_0558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWt8QkJSbL9GW1zWKJNzKv4ap_qrYpNJJA_U5yZ10pvy1RqJBGp5-yDy6YKJII1O4vdVWOTFziJng5tMCXMMOVBxLOU7dgKH-dk1ti6yXCl4YOtNqE5Ykcf7Mvlm4qfGgNICiQQ/s320/IMG_0558.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And then there were 2....<br />
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Tori left this morning for camp. It is her first time going and it is the first time she and Isabelle will be separated for more than a sleepover night. Macie fell asleep on Tori's lap last night and the three of them attempted to all sleep in the same single bed until poor Mace got bumped (or fell) to the floor. They don't always act like they love each other, but what is most true is they are the best of friends and I kind of love that.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcMwNvI5u5UeM6xxxtBQy8ogm40GCmtUp2Xh80hCAMYTUqyQJS03ys-_5zGvnkccIcZl4uarW6z-4_5B1BuwhXqN8habFC_8aYeZCHVXmWgQlYJFtnPi8j8Nhu7XQH0TsdWC8IQ/s1600/IMG_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcMwNvI5u5UeM6xxxtBQy8ogm40GCmtUp2Xh80hCAMYTUqyQJS03ys-_5zGvnkccIcZl4uarW6z-4_5B1BuwhXqN8habFC_8aYeZCHVXmWgQlYJFtnPi8j8Nhu7XQH0TsdWC8IQ/s320/IMG_0560.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Being the firstborn, Tori is typically experiencing things in life first. After she went to school the first time she immediately came home and played school with Isabelle, teaching her all about what was to come. I can already guess that "camp" is going to be the next new world of make believe when she returns; another adventure that Tori will teach them all about (if Ponsi and Mace can survive each other this week without their mother hen).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-48763485215600149642011-06-27T11:11:00.000-05:002011-06-27T11:11:59.041-05:00Remodel underway! We bought our house almost 5 years ago and as with most people we had a list of things we wanted to do with it. The list has been ever-changing as life shifts and re-shifts our priorities.<br />
Having 3 growing daughters in the house and having had <a href="http://www.thegardencommunities.org/">our church</a> meet in our home for the past four years, a second bathroom has always been high on my list. Jamie has gone back and forth (depending on how much the girls have been invading his bathroom time), and it seems the time has come for us to add the bathroom. <br />
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On Saturday, Jamie, Dan, and Jamie's new favorite toy, the jackhammer, broke up the concrete in our current laundry room. According to our wonderful plumber Richard, our pipes look like artwork so we are well on our way to bathroom #2.<br />
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Here are some before shots:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZPNHSSHcsQDb2oXG847XnmB-Nn_NbDCozPe9zxzp7qYD4U2DGs20moXiY93Q9wdLm9eoyXPJUEJhzD7slGIAZZLOzqsYDMBea8X3Oyw0J9FNQi6IJWDI-ruSR9yR6liinw0Now/s1600/IMG_0414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZPNHSSHcsQDb2oXG847XnmB-Nn_NbDCozPe9zxzp7qYD4U2DGs20moXiY93Q9wdLm9eoyXPJUEJhzD7slGIAZZLOzqsYDMBea8X3Oyw0J9FNQi6IJWDI-ruSR9yR6liinw0Now/s320/IMG_0414.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-58019182704993043602011-06-24T10:20:00.001-05:002011-06-24T11:04:35.954-05:00<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Yesterday was the day of Penny's birth. Jamie had told me he would much rather celebrate the day she was born and her beautiful life than honor the day that she passed away.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So, my sweet niece and nephew came up with the idea for the kids to attach a picture or a letter to a balloon and release the balloons into the air at 7:23 EST, the time of Penny's birth. While I was at work, the girls worked on their notes and when I came home there on the table was each's girls note, individually decorated and sealed up with care. The first sign of trouble came when I asked the girls what they did and Isabelle informed me that she and Macie had put actual pennies in their letters. I told them we may have to lose the pennies if we wanted the balloons to actually fly, but we would see.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Macie and Isabelle came with me to the party store to pick out their balloons. Macie picked a smiley face balloon and Isabelle picked a lavender balloon. I picked out a lime green balloon with polka-dots for Tori and bought two extra just in case. We got the balloons safely home and inside the house. I went outside to get something out of the van and I heard a big pop. The girls assured me they did not touch it, it just popped. Down to 4. We attached our letters and got them ready to go.</div><div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpglQTx230zp4PGEbD06mowD6cnYmVb0cwHJVHGnaRdlQgfm5DPh5kewZTIpQBwZBvxKZ3t_Yt1ptvBBlIiKnDGEysOAyxA5r_laMbiuubBwExvXeYDcm6DoVZJiBd1RJY3m-pAA/s1600/IMG_0379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpglQTx230zp4PGEbD06mowD6cnYmVb0cwHJVHGnaRdlQgfm5DPh5kewZTIpQBwZBvxKZ3t_Yt1ptvBBlIiKnDGEysOAyxA5r_laMbiuubBwExvXeYDcm6DoVZJiBd1RJY3m-pAA/s320/IMG_0379.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcodLgiwQnupP6WOL9s_6IW5HCnPUPETv9jcA_FqcvhuvgKiWFp18K7iP7Hx-qC_pzhcsNoYQS6jv2ptBE31u_Iqgt8LZVZ2MOKhujapel34vlJ9DzlK3_cN1MY9LdJreHHUaKMw/s1600/IMG_0381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcodLgiwQnupP6WOL9s_6IW5HCnPUPETv9jcA_FqcvhuvgKiWFp18K7iP7Hx-qC_pzhcsNoYQS6jv2ptBE31u_Iqgt8LZVZ2MOKhujapel34vlJ9DzlK3_cN1MY9LdJreHHUaKMw/s320/IMG_0381.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDsmEg3ALB0ZL2YEdHFAdhbMnllucAVT-DWDtsgmFVj43KMemUT9q_-JjGKUdCYMwUIsKLfyO09lP5foANOutvVlSM2R_7f5TcYCobwswAemyhlnztK9naRGtqCoHNxKzdz3mhQ/s1600/IMG_0382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDsmEg3ALB0ZL2YEdHFAdhbMnllucAVT-DWDtsgmFVj43KMemUT9q_-JjGKUdCYMwUIsKLfyO09lP5foANOutvVlSM2R_7f5TcYCobwswAemyhlnztK9naRGtqCoHNxKzdz3mhQ/s320/IMG_0382.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDsmEg3ALB0ZL2YEdHFAdhbMnllucAVT-DWDtsgmFVj43KMemUT9q_-JjGKUdCYMwUIsKLfyO09lP5foANOutvVlSM2R_7f5TcYCobwswAemyhlnztK9naRGtqCoHNxKzdz3mhQ/s1600/IMG_0382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>We had a BBQ with some college kids happening at the house, so around 6:20 central time we snuck away to the front yard to release the balloons. I had attached two balloons to Isabelle's card, hoping the extra helium would carry the pennies. On the way out the door, one popped- down to three.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The initial plan was to go to the wide open soccer field down the street from us, but it was soccer mania down there, so we just decided to stay in our front yard. Tori said a sweet prayer thanking God for her Aunt Penny and then we told them to let them go.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhoSjsPi6j5AsyFgQ8pgwihG9l4cYQMLjECKIoE0XJCa1Nkhr2CAdE_Un5eFAuZJYbuQZ_7PXWX7R6T0wjsO52v4bv3lhEtb6qlBGi6SEOGWacoEcSexKqQgIhoA5jSRbV4tEPsg/s1600/IMG_0383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhoSjsPi6j5AsyFgQ8pgwihG9l4cYQMLjECKIoE0XJCa1Nkhr2CAdE_Un5eFAuZJYbuQZ_7PXWX7R6T0wjsO52v4bv3lhEtb6qlBGi6SEOGWacoEcSexKqQgIhoA5jSRbV4tEPsg/s320/IMG_0383.JPG" width="240" /></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/AVvXsEj66n6teT9OumOkQqcQvK-iX1VLift3iBvhQ8aUh9k3E_AkmPURSUvCARfzu7rEd2_q9hEmg_s5GEyvLuBzF6azaio5zTcOZvZtH8cm0WGIielslnr8XKOxk4DDGokSl7aN5EEUWQ/s1600/IMG_0384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66n6teT9OumOkQqcQvK-iX1VLift3iBvhQ8aUh9k3E_AkmPURSUvCARfzu7rEd2_q9hEmg_s5GEyvLuBzF6azaio5zTcOZvZtH8cm0WGIielslnr8XKOxk4DDGokSl7aN5EEUWQ/s320/IMG_0384.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Isabelle's went right to the ground- time to lose the penny and try again. It still didn't work, so we unattached the letter and then let the balloon go. One balloon up in the air.<br />
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I took off Macie's note because it seemed it was going to follow the same course as Isabelle's balloon. Macie let hers go. It got stuck in the tree. Thankfully, a gust of wind released it from the branch and off it went. Two balloons up in the air. <br />
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Tori let hers go and the balloon took off with the letter attached. Perfect. But, a gust of wind took it right into the other tree in our yard, and it was not going anywhere. We watched the other two balloons disappear into the sky and then I looked to see the tears welling in Tori's eyes as her balloon and letter just hung there in the tree. This was not quite the picturesque take off I had been envisioning. Jamie and I knew there was no way that Tori was not releasing a balloon into the air; time to get creative. So, with a swiffer mop, two jump ropes, a brief stint of me standing on top of the van, and some sheer determination we finally got the balloon loose. It started to take off only to get stuck again in the tree, way too high for me to reach this time. I intended to go get another balloon at the store, when a gust of wind took it away into the atmosphere. Finally, three balloons up in the air. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUGBgViesrHR_SJ9Sz2Xh287GYtBoPxmUzhEXHdPJ8dsSXt8NyaJ4ul3pBuwRA39upSP6ADsZqN46uAwvx_M8NUqx6XPFqszyEPFDxTE4mTGWvqHP5PNNVaey-6pmfDuGzLFZ1w/s1600/IMG_0387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUGBgViesrHR_SJ9Sz2Xh287GYtBoPxmUzhEXHdPJ8dsSXt8NyaJ4ul3pBuwRA39upSP6ADsZqN46uAwvx_M8NUqx6XPFqszyEPFDxTE4mTGWvqHP5PNNVaey-6pmfDuGzLFZ1w/s320/IMG_0387.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-PatQogVu0SnmjVnKaDU-0sA_NKmxzOaihAIHNu0TwJ2QxwShIudmdGKIMftMBtyT4Qt8qCKiWf8sNO2gNyqbv_8h5OJXC0bPkwmJlN-Ni7-IIaQ3s3grKSQJ6U89beHbDkgRKw/s1600/IMG_0390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-PatQogVu0SnmjVnKaDU-0sA_NKmxzOaihAIHNu0TwJ2QxwShIudmdGKIMftMBtyT4Qt8qCKiWf8sNO2gNyqbv_8h5OJXC0bPkwmJlN-Ni7-IIaQ3s3grKSQJ6U89beHbDkgRKw/s320/IMG_0390.JPG" width="240" /></a>We told the girls the Aunt Penny would have found the whole scene quite comical. She operated well in chaos and always found a reason to smile. We think of her often and are so thankful for the life that we were able to share with her.<br />
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A little side note: When Tori's balloon finally released, Isabelle came over to tell me she had prayed that Tori's would release without popping. And it did. God is good. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-13570194135530675312011-06-15T22:25:00.000-05:002011-06-15T22:25:50.211-05:00The school year ended last week in a mad flurry of field trips, special days, awards assemblies, talent shows, and some sad goodbyes to our great teachers, Ms. Oyanagi and Ms. Zipoy. We will miss them!!!!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfDnvwo4AKc0hkR0T1Z5MLVE2uKJfea-takRQKJ5IeFbdO0osG0UZdjIYZhHXUj6SxZFnGsHeuboo_aNRfphAkynSi7_xgzQEHMYAI04-bP0oDZiqI9hU00niv4nu4DVq9NxR3Q/s1600/IMG_0356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfDnvwo4AKc0hkR0T1Z5MLVE2uKJfea-takRQKJ5IeFbdO0osG0UZdjIYZhHXUj6SxZFnGsHeuboo_aNRfphAkynSi7_xgzQEHMYAI04-bP0oDZiqI9hU00niv4nu4DVq9NxR3Q/s320/IMG_0356.JPG" width="240" /></a>Jamie and I always try to do something to celebrate the end of year with the girls. This year we decided to surprise them with a dinner outing to one of the great <strike>tourist traps</strike> family restaurants in the cities, the Rainforest Cafe in the Mall of America. The girls have asked several times to go there and we have never conceded, so we knew they would be excited. We gave them a million guesses and they didn't figure it out until we were pulling into the Mall of America parking lot. All their years of waiting seemed to be worth it as they were smiling the whole time we were there and they told me even the hallway to the bathroom was amazing. Tori and Isabelle gladly posed for a picture with Cha Cha the red-eyed tree frog, which I gladly took since they are not always willing photography subjects these days. Macie did not pose with Cha Cha the tree frog as she is in the terrified-of-dressed-up-creatures stage and was not at all interested in being any where in the remote vicinity of Cha Cha. She did give him a high five as we were leaving but then immediately fell into a nervous puddle of tears on Jamie's shoulder. Awww....the trauma of being 4 1/2.<br />
Apart from Macie's phobia it was a great first night to summer and hopefully just the beginning of our summer adventures. It will take me a few days to get used to them being home all day, eating all day, asking what they can do all day, etc. But as Jamie loves to remind me they will not be around forever to enjoy the summer with, so enjoy it we will. Adventure on!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-33284845155997134532011-05-30T22:16:00.000-05:002011-05-30T22:16:45.109-05:00When I was in 6th grade for Memorial Day, my teacher asked us to share stories about family members who served in the military. My grandfather served in World War II and I was eager to share a story that he had told me when I was a little girl. I was in first grade and my grandparents had come to visit us in Iowa. My sister and I were playing outside and we noticed a scar my grandfather had on his foot. When we asked him about it, he told us he got that scar from a bayonet while fighting in the war. I thought that was amazing and never ever forgot it, so it was the obvious story I chose to share when I had the opportunity. <br />
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I spent the majority of my life believing this to be true without even thinking twice about it. I don't remember when exactly it came up, but Jamie heard about it, and was quick to point out to me that they did not use bayonets in World War II. I had not even thought to consider this fact- when grandpa told me it was a bayonet scar I just believed him. So, I told my grandfather that I had shared his story with my 6th grade class. He got a pretty good chuckle out of it. He told me the scar was actually from an axe. Still pretty impressive I think. :)<br />
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A special thank you to my grandpa and the many other men and women who have faithfully served our country in war time and peace. Happy Memorial Day!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9AuKTiPns5vFB8JTP1lLCWBi55onyVGxe71ZM57VjTGUSjt4279aQ-9njSO0MbUletPf27-3ajcLQAxXLJRIvDD26amjMC_TgJvMhGkGYR8ryqPARqT-iIhhG9Ty8v4lipusFw/s1600/IMG_0286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9AuKTiPns5vFB8JTP1lLCWBi55onyVGxe71ZM57VjTGUSjt4279aQ-9njSO0MbUletPf27-3ajcLQAxXLJRIvDD26amjMC_TgJvMhGkGYR8ryqPARqT-iIhhG9Ty8v4lipusFw/s400/IMG_0286.JPG" /></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/AVvXsEiwExYe-LVYmi4nmbK_lxs68EmralZmIvrUnk9DmNJCYvnomgTvqwNZnRgs4IrUEVnG5c5182I5UrYpwTwRuS3QzEnUFx2H3cmL5v7ukQNOdC2gEAJyO-X_KGLvAGi0K2QqZljlcg/s1600/IMG_0289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwExYe-LVYmi4nmbK_lxs68EmralZmIvrUnk9DmNJCYvnomgTvqwNZnRgs4IrUEVnG5c5182I5UrYpwTwRuS3QzEnUFx2H3cmL5v7ukQNOdC2gEAJyO-X_KGLvAGi0K2QqZljlcg/s400/IMG_0289.JPG" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-24455636671867835722011-05-24T22:04:00.001-05:002011-05-24T22:05:53.597-05:00With the warmer weather finally making its way into Minnesota and the gas prices making their way sky high again, the girls and I have once again hit to the streets. The girls are normally zooming along on their scooters, and they still ride them on occasion, but this year they have promoted to bike riding. Thanks to Papa and MumMum the girls are riding in style on their very own unique-to-them bikes. <br />
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Macie sports a princess bike with a princess bag on the front to hold all her treasures. She has a princess helmet, and excitement of all excitements for Mace, the helmet came with a princess bell that she steadily rings as she pedals along. Macie isn't quite confident enough to go really fast yet. She likes a slow, steady ride and she likes me to hold on to the front of the bike if we go down an incline of any sort.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurb8I5Loi7NMighUc64pQe0ykqHf-9-BiTAyxA17jMylU9jT0MH799o0zTsSNKjp3d5aaEenflWt3ZvJOdY6IbxpD_013dfXVC9jADvoShCAGKKQ8ateg_kjavrwWaS7v-2bTFw/s1600/DSCI0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurb8I5Loi7NMighUc64pQe0ykqHf-9-BiTAyxA17jMylU9jT0MH799o0zTsSNKjp3d5aaEenflWt3ZvJOdY6IbxpD_013dfXVC9jADvoShCAGKKQ8ateg_kjavrwWaS7v-2bTFw/s400/DSCI0032.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Ponsi has a medium sized bike that says "Pretty in Pink". She likes to stand up when she rides for some reason and her helmet has a big pink flower on it. Before the girls had helmets we only let them ride in the driveway and Isabelle was always the one we caught riding in the grass and she never knew how she got there. I recommend if you ever see her coming down a sidewalk near you, that you steer yourself out of the way. She is a fully capable rider, she just doesn't normally ride in a straight line. On the way home from Tori's soccer game the other night, Jamie let me know he will not be teaching Ponsi how to drive. :)<br />
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Tori is loving life on her new, big time, 10 speed. She has a very sporty, gender-neutral helmet with splashes of lime green, her new favorite color. I don't really know how she likes to ride her bike because she normally takes it on independent ventures. She rides it down the road to her soccer practices and games and absolutely loves the freedom of wheels that take her where she needs to go all by herself. I can imagine she is going to be begging for her driver's license/permit the day she is able to get one. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRu3snmDxEHmmbfexthotU3cEd9QOC2FBurKIaEJaf1f5zCIWjIBaLj02dZzwlMcNbAm41scIWO5QumFu4o-xQCoLTir8GXM1lspYRtf8wXHHct3iSZhAy2oL8cd_ccJlyyocAAw/s1600/DSCI0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRu3snmDxEHmmbfexthotU3cEd9QOC2FBurKIaEJaf1f5zCIWjIBaLj02dZzwlMcNbAm41scIWO5QumFu4o-xQCoLTir8GXM1lspYRtf8wXHHct3iSZhAy2oL8cd_ccJlyyocAAw/s400/DSCI0033.JPG" /></a></div><br />
I absolutely love this time of year. I am going to have to get some wheels of my own so I can keep up with them. Enjoy your day!<br />
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!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-46445035947806990962011-05-08T16:24:00.000-05:002011-05-08T16:24:29.503-05:00Being a mom is one of the greatest gifts in my life. I enter each new Mother's Day with a bigger sense of the true privilege, honor, and huge responsibility it is to be a mom. I try to spend time, on this day especially, to thank God for the three beautiful and unique girls that God has given me to mother. And I also praise Him for my own mom and what she has meant and continues to mean to me in life. <br />
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But on this day, my heart is also reminded of the many that ache on this day. I wish I knew the whens, the whys, and the hows for each situation, but I don't. So I entrust each friend to my Heavenly Father who is intimately aware of every hurting heart and holds all things in His hand. He is the only one that I have ever known to bring beauty of ashes and I ask in faith for Him to continue His work. I pray great comfort and peace for those who have lost their moms or those moms that have lost their children. And I pray for sustained strength for those that long to be mothers, asking for the Spirit to intercede where my words fall terribly short. <br />
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Blessings to God on this day for his amazing gifts. May we never, ever take them for granted or forget from where they come. <br />
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Happy Mother's Day...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-48478949416959968302011-05-06T07:34:00.003-05:002011-05-06T07:38:29.560-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O5cf6en-cLRFI8BcTa6VZGVFr214t7Ux9rbbbX_esc5H0caykMaXMFgsio4rwobZhcCGY_5p1BG3wFBqfMYNLBNagN3JmowFxeSNOOurCTFW_scYbS_Xeugqg9mL0moO5Tg6ew/s1600/Spring+2011+215.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O5cf6en-cLRFI8BcTa6VZGVFr214t7Ux9rbbbX_esc5H0caykMaXMFgsio4rwobZhcCGY_5p1BG3wFBqfMYNLBNagN3JmowFxeSNOOurCTFW_scYbS_Xeugqg9mL0moO5Tg6ew/s400/Spring+2011+215.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603581327491117314" /></a><br /><br />You can never be too sure in Minnesota, but I think, just maybe, Spring is here. :)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ip8vICj1U82YPo0oF6H1Z27C5zXlFs36OClHBdvrjGhlybNXAstOzXFr8Zn1McCd4lQ3hfvQ-fU7-z9zG_fsQ9b6JJL9P7zITDtYEMqN3EznV8VKFNEeNwtu0lZ9KgsGqOd_WQ/s1600/Spring+2011+394.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ip8vICj1U82YPo0oF6H1Z27C5zXlFs36OClHBdvrjGhlybNXAstOzXFr8Zn1McCd4lQ3hfvQ-fU7-z9zG_fsQ9b6JJL9P7zITDtYEMqN3EznV8VKFNEeNwtu0lZ9KgsGqOd_WQ/s400/Spring+2011+394.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603581322162198146" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-77175977293602544342011-02-12T08:36:00.003-06:002011-02-12T09:44:04.059-06:00In the course of my lifetime I have written hundreds of journal entries. All of them are precious to me, but some of them are more precious than others. The following excerpt is from one of my most precious entries and I have gone back and forth in recent days about even sharing it publicly. For those of you who knew Penny, I hope you are encouraged today to remember her godly life and all that she has taught us.<br /><br />Journal entry- January 31, 2010:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I said goodbye to Penny tonight. I have been in Columbus with Jamie and his family. The doctor told us Friday that these are her final days. The time here has been bittersweet and I will write more about it later. But apart from your supernatural intervention I have shared my last earthly conversation with my dear sister-in-law and I don't want to forget it. <br /><br />I knew she was so tired so her putting forth the energy to converse with me meant so much. I told her I was going to say "goodnight" and she said "you are trying to make this easy". I started to cry and assured her there was nothing easy about it. She smiled "I know". We shared how we never thought we would be here. I reminded her of our first conversation post diagnosis and how she shared Psalm 71 with me. She didn't even want to choose a diet because she wanted YOU alone to get the glory. She has brought much glory to you in this journey. I told her how proud I was and how amazing she was to walk this trial so gracefully. She rolled her eyes and I stopped her and said, "Penny, you have been amazing". And she said, "God has been good to me- God has been good". What an amazing woman! <br />She told me her mind can't really fathom it. That she has tried to picture what it will be like to see Jesus' face for the first time, but she can't. Then she trailed off and lost her train of thought. <br />I would sure love a miracle, God. We just looked at each other and she apologized that she was too pooped to cry, but I could feel the love for me in her eyes. What a gift she is! </span><br /><br />In loving memory of Penny Hoffman (June 23, 1970 - February 12, 2011)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-90784289330097456642011-02-02T09:02:00.008-06:002011-02-02T16:39:36.403-06:00Remember when this was the most fascinating discovery...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmGBnGFCCbYOGDkvrFkN4YkJDJkIOB9OaJt934Mvb1WqNcnfulLDOE3mZqlzwRZzOdOVqk_L0xPBzgzvK5CDAQdijkO0PQAjeRSPV4JQav6kGfbW8yYSr8s2PE103lQAY-KWUzA/s1600/Winter+2010+115.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmGBnGFCCbYOGDkvrFkN4YkJDJkIOB9OaJt934Mvb1WqNcnfulLDOE3mZqlzwRZzOdOVqk_L0xPBzgzvK5CDAQdijkO0PQAjeRSPV4JQav6kGfbW8yYSr8s2PE103lQAY-KWUzA/s400/Winter+2010+115.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569224274180542770" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlr_T9WtcJsk6N9K1yG2pXSKnw4tL6XIXTN0Ac6qdWW5nWoaU2Ew1bHD2_4NGcKI8uvqsBg6e8s7VeOoGXbiSWYkU8vOPwWWQSewiBFrZNBKtTEfBWRGz1NPIszHpra9bZ5v06Q/s1600/Winter+2010+116.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlr_T9WtcJsk6N9K1yG2pXSKnw4tL6XIXTN0Ac6qdWW5nWoaU2Ew1bHD2_4NGcKI8uvqsBg6e8s7VeOoGXbiSWYkU8vOPwWWQSewiBFrZNBKtTEfBWRGz1NPIszHpra9bZ5v06Q/s400/Winter+2010+116.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569225239844718338" /></a><br /><br />I used to see how many reflections I could see of myself in the dressing room at the store. Macie just discovered this fun little trick in our bathroom. She calls them her "little Macie friends" and sometimes she asks me to say hello to them. <br />The 4 year old mind and imagination are downright fascinating and I love to see them at work.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-17240965441431671052011-01-25T15:51:00.011-06:002011-01-26T15:26:31.603-06:00Our family has always been competitive. Very competitive. I realize people may find this odd and even unhealthy, but we don't. I grew up in a very competitive family (my dad used to do this winners dance around us when we lost at a board game-it was obnoxious) and Jamie's family was the same. A friend of our family was mortified the first time he played the girls in Sorry and they informed him that nobody wins second place, but rather second place is considered "first loser". Don't worry, the girls are fine. When we are not playing some sort of competitive game we strive to be incredibly affirming. :)<br /><br />Anyway, in the early days of playing games with your children it does not require a whole lot to beat them. I can sort of pay attention when I am playing Princess Memory with Macie and still pull off a pretty easy victory. This is true of the games that require a certain measure of skill or memory. As Tori and Isabelle have gotten older they have managed to win a good number of games like Rack-o, Sorry, or Skip-Bo, where skill is involved, but also a good amount of luck. We have good competition but it is known that Mom and Dad still rule the roost in the family game world. But this past weekend I began to sense a change and I don't really like where it is headed.<br /><br />Isabelle was out on a date with her pal Heather, so Tori, Macie and I took the opportunity to spend some quality girl time together. We headed to Caribou, got our respective drinks, and sat down to play some Rummy. Now, I admit I am not a great card player. I did not grow up playing traditional card games and there is definite skill in playing and knowing what has been played and what can yet be played and what the odds are, etc. I do not have this skill set, nor have I attempted to develop it very much. This defiiency has not seemed to deter me from remaining competitive in family card games with the girls (I rarely, if ever beat Jamie, but I have conceded this for sake of my own sanity). However, Friday night I appeared incredibly deficient. Tori's many hours of playing cards has seemed to pay off. I first thought I was the victim of her lucky draws, but after she beat me 6 straight times, I realized that I was losing to a superior player. Blah- shot to the ego. I did not intend to stay at Caribou that long, but Macie was lost in her own imaginary play world at the table next to us, so I determined to stay there until I could beat the little twerp. I finally beat her in the 7th game. It did not make me feel so great about myself to have a 1-6 record against my 9 year old, but at least I finally won once and could walk out with some measure of dignity.<br /><br />We went home and she beat me three times at wii tennis. It was not my night so I just sent her off to bed feeling like my competitive days at the top of the Miller family game world had come to an end. I did not imagine this would happen to me at the young age of 34. <br /><br />Saturday night the girls wanted us all to play wii bowling. After my dreadful showing the night before I was reluctant to compete again and not excited to be the token bad player in the competition (you know, the one who is playing but who nobody really pays attention to because there game has no real impact on who wins-sad). However, I determined in my mind that is was good to participate in the all family activity, so I gave it a try. Let's just say sweet redemption. I bowled a wii career high 237 and beat my entire family (including Jamie- even better). Somehow, I even strung together 6 straight strikes at one point in my bowling game. I did not gloat, as that would be bad sportsmanship, but I couldn't contain the joy of being restored to a position of worthy competitor. I almost thought to hang up the controller and go out on top, but the competitive side of me gained some hope that I still may have some game in me yet. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Ulfzgag1wA4AKD-wpUx4EkxpPRznn6pli50W2tPJyQdsrFlgqLmkKvvOdZxQOKfba2Y-yiyPP-OOv4t4hCm9OXM24PVt99E2YYAXdBeJYFatp1xTOUOLXpcVhI5e6r1H8fZEnQ/s1600/Winter+2010+117.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Ulfzgag1wA4AKD-wpUx4EkxpPRznn6pli50W2tPJyQdsrFlgqLmkKvvOdZxQOKfba2Y-yiyPP-OOv4t4hCm9OXM24PVt99E2YYAXdBeJYFatp1xTOUOLXpcVhI5e6r1H8fZEnQ/s400/Winter+2010+117.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566568668783274674" /></a><br />All that to say, I have a new rival. She is about 4 foot 7 inches tall. She is only 9 and looks like a sweet young girl, but don't be fooled. She is out for blood and will do whatever it takes to beat you. She has no mercy, even if you are her kind and loving mother. I suppose I am partially responsible for this, but I am going to place most of the blame on Jamie, maybe even Grandma Sue. :) Look out baby girl! Mama's back! <br /><br />p.s. Now before you think I am the only one who needs to watch my back in the family game world- ask Jamie who beat him two games straight in wii tennis. The girls couldn't go to bed the other night until he beat her. Oy vey! The next few years are going to get interesting. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-25337402914243783252011-01-21T12:26:00.009-06:002011-01-21T14:39:11.461-06:00There is something about January that beckons me to a fresh start. I realize we are 21 days in already and whatever start I am referring to is seemingly late, but I have good reasons. I have been organizing thanks to a few, wonderful Christmas gifts from my family:<br /><br />Of course, there is the new calendar. Dad takes great pride in choosing each of us girls a calendar to suit us for the year. Mine is called "Faithful Moments", and after the passing of Penny in 2010 it is a good and necessary thing to focus on God's "faithful moments" in my life. January's calendar picture has the following verse: "May our Lord Jesus Christ and God our Father comfort your hearts . May they make you strong in every good thing you do and say" (I Thessalonians 2:16-17). Perfect. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCab1aM6k2ApWis6kJfkNwvda4M4zAQuSsQ_1KsJ1UrEsfqjvzFKZt-yMHiILzgeGPx549X8Txr97f421jjngVs9tNt_D8U7LPqSk3hfVyIgHyFT8ZUWKu-u4gxtUwM_ZYxbzV4Q/s1600/IMG_6284.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCab1aM6k2ApWis6kJfkNwvda4M4zAQuSsQ_1KsJ1UrEsfqjvzFKZt-yMHiILzgeGPx549X8Txr97f421jjngVs9tNt_D8U7LPqSk3hfVyIgHyFT8ZUWKu-u4gxtUwM_ZYxbzV4Q/s400/IMG_6284.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564739259525646178" /></a><br />As a stocking stuffer (my personal favorite kind of gift), my little sister Em got me this great sticky note book. It has great prints and is from a fun store in Des Moines in the East Village called Porch Light. At first I wasn't sure why they put all the sticky notes in a book together, but now I think it is sheer brilliance. I will no longer lose my sticky notes. Perfect. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF3Jk3oLbSuEM0z6Oc-j_zeSwdwZyMMaD1_zu4gFxOZeAvj-utk2RU2IlhCkI82nuG-FG3hlr7nQZubzK2eh4SyW5y0FvtwfYr-ZhZvGEOvJfVVickHF3ZQrPHYPYT3wDHUOJfqA/s1600/IMG_6282.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF3Jk3oLbSuEM0z6Oc-j_zeSwdwZyMMaD1_zu4gFxOZeAvj-utk2RU2IlhCkI82nuG-FG3hlr7nQZubzK2eh4SyW5y0FvtwfYr-ZhZvGEOvJfVVickHF3ZQrPHYPYT3wDHUOJfqA/s400/IMG_6282.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564739249331232866" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOH945uOP76Ig-p_a_KLfBP3ZVLKx5xIWnUr-8-nkyvER0WAHViXo0rWoyAhOl0JFPRpaz4-zMQrEX_2PGFUqhsF4kj-_Wr4FBEQ55xwoilwKMqJVoBM1Nsrsrj7FrQR-10S6vg/s1600/IMG_6283.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOH945uOP76Ig-p_a_KLfBP3ZVLKx5xIWnUr-8-nkyvER0WAHViXo0rWoyAhOl0JFPRpaz4-zMQrEX_2PGFUqhsF4kj-_Wr4FBEQ55xwoilwKMqJVoBM1Nsrsrj7FrQR-10S6vg/s400/IMG_6283.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564739254966344674" /></a><br /><br />Most of my organizing has been at home in the family room where my new desk is. :) It is simple and tucked away in the corner where our chest used to be. I found some fun accessories and of course, hung some pictures of the girlies to inspire me while I work on things. I have been helping Jamie with some <a href="http://www.consumedministries.com">Consumed Publishing</a> ventures so this is a great and hopefully productive space for me. My previous computer desk was in the basement and I find that to be a little, well, uninspiring. ;) Thanks Phil and Sue and Mom for contributing to my "home office". It's perfect.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBJuItW8xEXHADKpSmv8NMs-paEDC8E70qe4v9PtC5XwRs8NcLftdZfeYhumudq30gyi0cHiOMV4dQUD1VGFFHxHiaxZ9ZYP6SbHX9S6621lec0XFFHARATcBQACl7Vmr8FDQ9A/s1600/IMG_6281.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBJuItW8xEXHADKpSmv8NMs-paEDC8E70qe4v9PtC5XwRs8NcLftdZfeYhumudq30gyi0cHiOMV4dQUD1VGFFHxHiaxZ9ZYP6SbHX9S6621lec0XFFHARATcBQACl7Vmr8FDQ9A/s400/IMG_6281.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564739242371068530" /></a><br /><br />And last, but definitely not least, I have this new little toy from Jamie- my new ipad. He really came out of nowhere with this gift and I was in complete shock and disbelief when I opened it. As sweet as the ipad is, the story as to how Jamie was able to get if for me touched me probably more as God definitely worked out some details for it to happen. Apart from being a fascinating little piece of technology, the ipad allows me to take my music, my pictures, and my writings with me. I have missed this over the past couple year, especially when the weather is nice and I want to be outside listening to the girls play while I work. ipad- perfect.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPb1wB0TB1oVQzZOEUc4fm4FN2WARc7zhJ5kjK6q91s-mhs21XrKvQq4VhE3gyzM_smEaPqO7kWfgTQevcKnFm4rd7jrbpAfrRvCVLPkAYuXEpj-mGYdRcXYqB-_59Mo1r5QNE3w/s1600/IMG_6280.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPb1wB0TB1oVQzZOEUc4fm4FN2WARc7zhJ5kjK6q91s-mhs21XrKvQq4VhE3gyzM_smEaPqO7kWfgTQevcKnFm4rd7jrbpAfrRvCVLPkAYuXEpj-mGYdRcXYqB-_59Mo1r5QNE3w/s400/IMG_6280.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564739234370701010" /></a><br />So, there you go. A fresh, more organized start to 2011 thanks to some new gadgets and gifts from family. I make no promises to be planning meals a month, a week, or even a day in advance. And I am sure I will still forget things I need at the grocery store, but at least for now, I feel more organized which is really half the battle, right?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-8615665251622127972011-01-01T19:41:00.006-06:002011-01-02T10:02:22.034-06:00Christmas Eve my sister Leah threw out that she was really excited about one of my gifts this year. She also gave me a bit of a riddle saying it was a gift I could not keep. Random. We opened all the gifts for our family and there was the one box left, wrapped in simple brown paper. I opened and saw a sight I had not seen in years....Baby Skates. <br />When I was young I had wanted Baby Skates so badly. She was a doll that you could wind up and she roller-skated across hard surfaces. I know...it is life changing. She didn't even need batteries.<br /> The story goes that the Christmas I wanted Baby Skates my mom and dad had me open every other present and held my most coveted gift back. I opened what I thought to be my last present and much to my disappointment it was a pair of Disney roller skates. You may see where my parents were going with the roller skates, but I was upset and apparently not good at hiding it. I cried and complained that I really wanted Baby Skates (I am not proud of this behavior and am pretty sure I would take all my girls' gifts back if they acted that way). But my obviously gracious parents consoled me and revealed to me that indeed they had bought me Baby Skates <span style="font-style:italic;">and</span> they had gotten me my own roller skates so the two of us could roller skate together. Oops. Baby Skates and I roller skated the day away in the kitchen and lived happily ever after...until she got thrown away or something because I have no idea what ever became of her. <br />So this year Leah learned somehow that her neighbor had a Baby Skates doll in the original box. She had contemplated selling it to Leah but didn't think she could part with it (I am sure you can understand why). She was gracious enough to let Leah borrow it so we could relive some Stafford family Christmas lore. It is not my proudest Christmas moment but funny nonetheless. I was a much more gracious recipient this year and even gave it back without crying. <br />I hope you made some memories this holiday season and maybe even reflected on some old ones. Blessings in the New Year! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhHplzW39kKE1TR5EqkSzJYmyvN1jIBlS6T3G0Z9-_A_hSi19Fi0wOYRbEEFa5gIxaCu6vdLRc6ABTcfhtdsS7rhvTM8QnCn5XViB4ai0h1Wl0sH8ZZVDxY1fRVB0mfLLJa3HaA/s1600/IMG_6264.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhHplzW39kKE1TR5EqkSzJYmyvN1jIBlS6T3G0Z9-_A_hSi19Fi0wOYRbEEFa5gIxaCu6vdLRc6ABTcfhtdsS7rhvTM8QnCn5XViB4ai0h1Wl0sH8ZZVDxY1fRVB0mfLLJa3HaA/s400/IMG_6264.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557618645359087650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkeQIcrb6JLsIO6KjGddxHDdg4PPFKhk66izbIPSYyz-qSwJDqmODYDFx7Cqq0s6F-vWyUbhm9srUsq4j9sm4bBYj2gKoyWI50R8u_1eerEntyuiuB133w8EuDPOjqjUMuyVAUw/s1600/IMG_6265.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkeQIcrb6JLsIO6KjGddxHDdg4PPFKhk66izbIPSYyz-qSwJDqmODYDFx7Cqq0s6F-vWyUbhm9srUsq4j9sm4bBYj2gKoyWI50R8u_1eerEntyuiuB133w8EuDPOjqjUMuyVAUw/s400/IMG_6265.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557618641445496690" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-8245520442416123102010-12-01T11:00:00.003-06:002010-12-01T11:24:45.801-06:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ldyjavTbKMuLSU6B_DoqE8MCTLjKUGf3uas2bDn2rmiD3ygGPZ6fovXxmhUg57h_X9YcKefrLvwQP5leYyBBlnx56QhrBmezhqSBbCbeHilCSsPvf5MAiI6RekvT_kWiB8IUmQ/s1600/immanuel-god-with-us-full.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ldyjavTbKMuLSU6B_DoqE8MCTLjKUGf3uas2bDn2rmiD3ygGPZ6fovXxmhUg57h_X9YcKefrLvwQP5leYyBBlnx56QhrBmezhqSBbCbeHilCSsPvf5MAiI6RekvT_kWiB8IUmQ/s400/immanuel-god-with-us-full.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545766019815642930" /></a><br />It is that time of year when you can blink and time has passed just as quickly as it came. I love the holidays and all that comes with them. Thanksgiving was a wonderful time to thank God for all His gifts in our lives and now Christmastime is here to share with more family and friends through gatherings, gifts, songs, cards, and cookies..don't forget the cookies. Today is December 1st. The first day you can open that piece of chocolate behind the window of your $1.99 Advent Calendar from Walgreens. (Side note: the girls really wanted those calendars this year, so I went to buy some yesterday, but the only available Advent calendars had Santa all over them. I don't hate Santa, but I just couldn't buy a Santa Advent calendar. (Disclaimer: feel no guilt if you have Santa Advent calendars. I think no less of anyone who has affection for Santa- I, personally, just couldn't do it) :) <br /><br />Anyway, the thought of "God with us" has come to be such a precious thing to me each Christmas season. The Advent of Christ really warms my heart and soul and mind. Regardless of the circumstances of your life, the thought of Jesus coming down from Heaven should bring you great joy. If you haven't heard the song "Hallelujah (light has come)" from the Barlow Girls' Christmas album, you should. I love it.<br /><br /><em>Hallelujah<br />We've been found<br />A child is born<br />To save us now...Jesus<br />Hallelujah<br />light has come<br />A Savior who will set us free<br />A Promise for those who believe </em><br /><br />Blessed Advent. May the presence of your Savior find its way into all of your life this wonderful holiday season.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-86292156132152172762010-11-15T09:10:00.007-06:002010-11-15T09:29:44.682-06:00Good Day Minnesota! I had intended on driving down to Iowa on Saturday to see my new nephew, but we woke up to several inches of white fun so our plans were changed. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnLBOQ5lhJoA7F_qmAeV1wwvWnURRmqgNIvNCb6O8pRNVt_Jjv7Pi1cIDqxig7CUHvqMRy35aOT34UZ4o6gtSPP1t8nOk_NMeGkRZpwjjFCnjstQstSBfK1XVkuo59Xqr8cxNTXg/s1600/Winter+2010+008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnLBOQ5lhJoA7F_qmAeV1wwvWnURRmqgNIvNCb6O8pRNVt_Jjv7Pi1cIDqxig7CUHvqMRy35aOT34UZ4o6gtSPP1t8nOk_NMeGkRZpwjjFCnjstQstSBfK1XVkuo59Xqr8cxNTXg/s400/Winter+2010+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539797333662442754" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90wtjIfQWTqWNIzGy22rtf1zGPKJbKjIKwE4lGYe-cz2IeRbO8Mo_u6EZp0g51zNlAegzgQFfalFlRjK-yahsE_Y1mPzvxrNazKIdlnwEOlCVCwtkVlMeHaJboaXIIZisV9uuDg/s1600/Winter+2010+009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90wtjIfQWTqWNIzGy22rtf1zGPKJbKjIKwE4lGYe-cz2IeRbO8Mo_u6EZp0g51zNlAegzgQFfalFlRjK-yahsE_Y1mPzvxrNazKIdlnwEOlCVCwtkVlMeHaJboaXIIZisV9uuDg/s400/Winter+2010+009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539794994715504066" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB1tNGQma-Zz52ocXtksPf_G98Moxtc8a9T3Jnc9mNVjH1Hd0isMmfJlpODNE8xwb2oQVBpQduytGZVXsGDRUvxKmiA_oSWuJOadFl9N28qdKlKZ8fII79Kdj8WeHv5OGe2Kq8Vw/s1600/Winter+2010+023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB1tNGQma-Zz52ocXtksPf_G98Moxtc8a9T3Jnc9mNVjH1Hd0isMmfJlpODNE8xwb2oQVBpQduytGZVXsGDRUvxKmiA_oSWuJOadFl9N28qdKlKZ8fII79Kdj8WeHv5OGe2Kq8Vw/s400/Winter+2010+023.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539794986483746098" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmuB7mMxeDXPqnZSLS5wfsQxK_8-TG5miRxftCd7HYOV3TfKzSEN052DkGt6qPjMkSYHdjYzc_-tNLmbq4pJyt2GGxuxWPXaYSQWHXxBTYXPU91YPT9ok0TQU23B-Sn6fTy6UmQ/s1600/Winter+2010+013.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmuB7mMxeDXPqnZSLS5wfsQxK_8-TG5miRxftCd7HYOV3TfKzSEN052DkGt6qPjMkSYHdjYzc_-tNLmbq4pJyt2GGxuxWPXaYSQWHXxBTYXPU91YPT9ok0TQU23B-Sn6fTy6UmQ/s400/Winter+2010+013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539794973956137522" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRvaUhKPU7u3gR7JLPiy77g139c8ZY5l2aH8WJiRD9YkRYFdjtgTrdTiO9ULZECs9o0YG5lkaBbulsEB43wMtW9PDJUpAGlkBMAmn56Z90Ynfqx9BX_7MlmvrRNJ7m84TglPfbg/s1600/Winter+2010+027.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRvaUhKPU7u3gR7JLPiy77g139c8ZY5l2aH8WJiRD9YkRYFdjtgTrdTiO9ULZECs9o0YG5lkaBbulsEB43wMtW9PDJUpAGlkBMAmn56Z90Ynfqx9BX_7MlmvrRNJ7m84TglPfbg/s400/Winter+2010+027.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539794967627112658" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMu0cHwZ5eQC_FgCgDA0fZ4-ckeLxSjqkbY2ZR0EFITOlHeRO2aCr8EawJi8taOXIXKjyFlme8FYN1IOlkU3qyqMkZA9tsjKDsvQS_17QUow9P-PO63y-1QJmt9Ao0NWyVgYsLpw/s1600/Winter+2010+033.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMu0cHwZ5eQC_FgCgDA0fZ4-ckeLxSjqkbY2ZR0EFITOlHeRO2aCr8EawJi8taOXIXKjyFlme8FYN1IOlkU3qyqMkZA9tsjKDsvQS_17QUow9P-PO63y-1QJmt9Ao0NWyVgYsLpw/s400/Winter+2010+033.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539794963446911250" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pdYZyfUQR4IrxdDMa49VS2REQZjz4m6uPI1lol10IprSA2wV0_plCfpnu-F5uruHJRYAHQeS4XXsBJc0Z_g92Zc6MdAnYhAIWWxs1YqtNYk3pUEGWLYlNd12wqTAOLudILdHhQ/s1600/Winter+2010+022.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pdYZyfUQR4IrxdDMa49VS2REQZjz4m6uPI1lol10IprSA2wV0_plCfpnu-F5uruHJRYAHQeS4XXsBJc0Z_g92Zc6MdAnYhAIWWxs1YqtNYk3pUEGWLYlNd12wqTAOLudILdHhQ/s400/Winter+2010+022.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539797338571644898" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6PAR2n4hzbqrh56kEiMyZnk8vBDQPuceqgUgq6euiN4we9RpwUAbhWeiqLxYq2JSueQW38idRNwP50-IPwkPADVBbtB-MwaGqpBWO-b7GbXC-coGKcbWxDVR0rtjA6FTlbX6Kg/s1600/Winter+2010+040.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6PAR2n4hzbqrh56kEiMyZnk8vBDQPuceqgUgq6euiN4we9RpwUAbhWeiqLxYq2JSueQW38idRNwP50-IPwkPADVBbtB-MwaGqpBWO-b7GbXC-coGKcbWxDVR0rtjA6FTlbX6Kg/s400/Winter+2010+040.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539798750483258818" /></a><br /><br />After all our winter fun we lost power and had to quickly make arrangements to watch the Buckeye game at Chuck's house (we do have our priorities straight). We were out of power for about 22 hours and spent the night all five of us cozy in front of the fire. The girls thought it was awesome as I let them roast hot dogs for dinner. Jamie, who got up faithfully every hour to add more logs and stoke the fire did not find it as enchanting. Good day Minnesota....we shall see what this week brings us.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36138637.post-5880845981049561652010-10-31T18:35:00.003-05:002010-10-31T18:41:11.790-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcnmI8oPFFGVDwvM1_4mo53IMaAVVQIwQVdN99VgZp7WUIu39ENpvJnEC0m4v72FidrwD8QFyfeL7UZ9l_4Dgn1MrG4EZEKMqIrPfoljmyXHBtf81AJ0c935t1k7HeRnyC0gVHpA/s1600/IMG_6038.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcnmI8oPFFGVDwvM1_4mo53IMaAVVQIwQVdN99VgZp7WUIu39ENpvJnEC0m4v72FidrwD8QFyfeL7UZ9l_4Dgn1MrG4EZEKMqIrPfoljmyXHBtf81AJ0c935t1k7HeRnyC0gVHpA/s400/IMG_6038.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534359236244402722" /></a><br />I feel like we have been celebrating Halloween forever, with all the school parties and a community outreach with our church, but tonight is the official night and my little ladybug, cowgirl, and buckeye football player are off trick or treating. I am manning my usual station, hoping for lots of cute little bumble bees and princesses to knock on my door. I have only seen three, but one was an incredibly cute yoda with a homemade knit hat. Happy Halloween!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2