tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313460102536942862024-03-05T18:30:23.855-08:00The Chaffin FamilyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-41967007245159095142018-08-01T09:51:00.000-07:002018-08-01T09:51:54.607-07:00Back of my hand<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">July 31, 2018 Tuesday, Red/Orange sun just peeking over the hills in a cloudy sky</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">The water and sun soaked summer continues to wash over our kids leaving changes to their bodies and minds forming them into lake rats. Learning to dive (yesterday), learning to freestyle swim (two days ago – a moment caught on paper by my daughter shown below), learning to do a 180 on the wakeboard (last weekend), learning to spin on the kneeboard (2 weeks ago) - sun drenched fisherman, rock collectors, and cannonballers, they are becoming a part of the lake or perhaps more tellingly, they are internalizing the lake into their childhood so that this slice of water and sun will be forever with them. I actually had fears that I would not be able to pass onto them the love of this locale. The love of a place where the streams, rocks, sunlight, weather, trees, hills, birds are seared into my mind like the back of my hand. And just as the back of my hand has weathered and deepened since I was 18, so has this place changed: New names, new faces, new boats, new fish and with age, I see new rhythms. But it retains its character, and this character is the one my kids are growing into, a falling in love between two things that I adore. So though I feared once they would not like it, I now fear that they will soon know more about the shoreline, the creatures, the weather, and texture of the place than I ever did. It is disconcerting for someone to know the back of your hand better than you do. But comforting in the end.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzeVaTO5cvLvfNJlwyTAuPrt_VzUN_scj2CVQl01ASyKKXh9IB11CukUur0V4k1U6ZXYFQSrZQ2yNPCtpDZ5Smb6VJ6__p0qqErgcuiK5mJ3uepjPYyUcDqcd-j2s__-dBI2_LljXQGM/s1600/IMG_0534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzeVaTO5cvLvfNJlwyTAuPrt_VzUN_scj2CVQl01ASyKKXh9IB11CukUur0V4k1U6ZXYFQSrZQ2yNPCtpDZ5Smb6VJ6__p0qqErgcuiK5mJ3uepjPYyUcDqcd-j2s__-dBI2_LljXQGM/s320/IMG_0534.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-69428610851845124102017-12-24T03:10:00.002-08:002017-12-24T03:11:52.137-08:00Santa Claus, Indians, and number lines<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Brown and Joseay both have been learning about Native Americans recently. It is hard to teach history to young kids in a way that they can fully grasp (adults too for that matter). Talking of hunting, living in wigwams, and other daily realities of life centuries ago is difficult to wrap your head around. Which led my son to ask the all important question recently: “Did Santa Claus go to the Indians in their tepees?” I have tried to resist flat out lying about Santa Claus in the past few years, so I deferred and said “I don’t know, what do you think?” After a few thoughtful moments, he definitively said “well, I don’t believe in Indians” and the matter was settled.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">His next bit of insight was discussing the afterlife. A character in a story (Underneath) had died, and the narrative was still following her experiences, after death. Brown then took the chance to inform me, “well I am going to live forever. Is that more than a thousand years?” “Yes” I said. “Well, I am going to live longer than that, I am going to live right off the number line.”</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-53086597480869439412017-06-20T03:03:00.000-07:002017-06-20T11:27:12.709-07:00Holding on to what you love<span id="docs-internal-guid-c7fe0d1e-c4f3-7c55-c1b3-ee477ace2ca5"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This last Sunday, on Father’s day, we were lounging on the couch, and Brown asked if he could keep Bear (his loved stuffed bear) when he was an adult. I told him he could keep him for as long as he liked. He said good. And after a bit more reflection, he said, “and when I die, I am going to hold on tight to his ankle and pull him to heaven with me.” Yes, hold on tightly to that kind of faith.</span></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-81265652947965918592016-05-18T01:38:00.001-07:002016-05-18T01:38:24.579-07:00Yep, that's a pretty good answer<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Life is sometimes like trying to camp in white clothes. There are just going to be scuffs and marks all over the place. The only way to keep clean is to not participate which is much worse than getting dirty.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kids are difficult. I mean as a parent, I leave a lot to be desired. It's not that I am uninterested or have a lack of interest. I try, I really do. I work at it, but instead of running a race, I feel like I am on one of those gerbil wheels spinning and spinning but really not going anywhere. As a matter of fact, sometimes in all my work of spinning the big metal wheel I am on, I feel like shrapnel flies off the wheel and injures my kids who are the ones I am trying to help and guide. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thankfully, God make my kids (like most kids) pretty resilient. Tough, and somewhat oblivious to their father’s flailings. Joseay is more and more interested in asking some deeper questions. Part of it is that she just likes to talk, and I guess she has learned that when she asks us a deep questions, we talk about it for a while. So, the other day, I thought it would be interesting to ask her how she knows God loves her. I was ready to give my kindergartner a great explanation, with verses, and arguments to bolster the belief. Sounds like a great idea right, I mean what kindergartner doesn't want a list of reference to know why to believe in god. Anyway, I asked, so how do you know God loves you. We were coloring in a book at the time, and she didn’t look up or really even pause what she was doing, but simply said “because he is God.” And kept right on coloring. Yep, that's a pretty good answer. It certainly shut me up and pulled me off the gerbil wheel for a bit. At least now I could concentrate on the coloring book. </span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0ff30158-c301-52a8-6877-bcdb89fbb960"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thanks God for making my kids tough enough to resist their bumbling father. How do I know God made them that way? Because he is God...</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-55564644874706981942015-08-14T03:52:00.002-07:002015-08-14T03:52:46.147-07:00First day of school<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGcdNwuAKkgta21pXVSr5CSvDSLdgbQBWAgmZvXqgd0o-tZziYKxugS57cTt-fJZdIe9lJ1zUUbn3Z413yv3IfW4aixeGVyW8Vs1gnNmeTKrVNzBIscQvWvcjn6ok3p_bb-o-NMDKUCo/s1600/20362740158_2515e8f9d1_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGcdNwuAKkgta21pXVSr5CSvDSLdgbQBWAgmZvXqgd0o-tZziYKxugS57cTt-fJZdIe9lJ1zUUbn3Z413yv3IfW4aixeGVyW8Vs1gnNmeTKrVNzBIscQvWvcjn6ok3p_bb-o-NMDKUCo/s320/20362740158_2515e8f9d1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Can you tell that our kids are getting older and our reflections (at least the recorded ones) are becoming rarer and rarer...<br />
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Well, school started yesterday and the energy was infections. Both kids were fired up about it both before and after the fact. One the way to school, Joseay said something to the effect of I have been waiting for this since I turned 5 last November. She was so cute in her dress as she headed into her first day of school. Kindergarten is going to be a blast for her. As I was tucking Brown into bed last night, I asked him what the biggest difference in first grade and kindergarten was, and he said, it is very different. We have a hole (storage cubby) in our desk... Yes, very concrete this one.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghViGe-14PjKtuZGCgODe8oIXF9GT0nfMLQJC74GI5M_yxCfT2Pk6NcGH31WUxoWWZ6KAHm8-3KCpZGh3nSv6W4d-HOeeupdv7pCKayHW-5VkjJ9iy4OyE1lFgOJRAU5Axw_uL2qdeq_Q/s1600/19928467554_efc06a73dc_o.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/AVvXsEghViGe-14PjKtuZGCgODe8oIXF9GT0nfMLQJC74GI5M_yxCfT2Pk6NcGH31WUxoWWZ6KAHm8-3KCpZGh3nSv6W4d-HOeeupdv7pCKayHW-5VkjJ9iy4OyE1lFgOJRAU5Axw_uL2qdeq_Q/s320/19928467554_efc06a73dc_o.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
So is it too soon to call this year a success? At least we are off to a great start.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-12577748531293859402015-06-08T03:20:00.002-07:002015-06-08T03:20:29.241-07:00Olivia and the heartbeat<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This week, Joseay bought a ceramic piggy bank at a yard sale with the name of Olivia painted on the side. The girl who was selling it, said to Joseay “oh, is your name Olivia?” To which Joseay replied, no. “Do you know that the pig has Olivia written on it?” So Joseay simply reasoned/decided that Olivia must be the pig's name. So now, we have a piggy bank named Olivia who Joseay has been carrying around with her. Olivia is white with flowers painted on her side. She is quite the lady. In fact, yesterday, Joseay informed me that Olivia doesn’t poop, she just tee tees because she is a lady. So we had a quick biology lesson. I don’t think it took.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These kids, not unlike most kids, begin to burrow into your heart and you find new levels of love. Of course, this is also a risk as this burrowing exposes your heart to pain, to loss, and to heart break. But Joseay and Brown are deeply loved in this house.</span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-cf95ee26-d2ae-5397-2709-13b01da05d76"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I heard a phrase, a phrase I didn’t quite get on a podcast the other day. I am pretty sure I misheard it, but it triggered in me the phrase “you realize at some point during your kids lives, that your heartbeat no longer emanates from your own body, but has begun to come from your kids.” I think this is a beautiful statement of selfless love, and though it is “easy” to feel it with regard to our kids, we have to realize that we have been called, chosen and tasked with loving those around us with this same love. As I feel the depth of my love for my kids, I recognize my extreme failure in loving my neighbor. So I continue to pray for that heart change, that allows me to love more deeply those who I am not naturally drawn towards.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-65608494958419855412015-05-30T03:29:00.000-07:002015-05-30T03:29:14.874-07:00Last day of kindergarten<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Friday, May 22, 2015 Early and quite cold as dawn breaks</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-cf95ee26-a457-f563-182b-33afca15d816"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The house is quiet, and I imagine that it mirrors my expectation for the day - this last day of kindergarten. A parent’s love is deep. To hear that without a child, you might think of the deep end of a pool as compared to a shallow kiddie pool. But when you actually arrive at parenthood, you soon discover that the depth can only be compared to the ocean, vast and seemingly unmeasurable. A depth that is quiet and almost scary as you begin to plumb the depths of emotion contained in your own heart. Brown reminds us of this often. Brown’s love is a more quiet love, so that sometimes it slips in unnoticed and surprises you at the oddest moment. He has blessed us and evidently those around him. Where my love for him may be sometimes too quiet, his teachers love him loudly and we are reminded of this fact. And we are loudly grateful.</span></span><br />
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<span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-77896619695450275672015-02-24T08:35:00.000-08:002015-02-28T11:20:00.604-08:00Winter adventure<span id="docs-internal-guid-08c351b7-b6f7-7662-1e2e-c5c6f42761ac"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mid winter, lots of fun around here and want to update at least with a few pictures. We have had lots of coughing, a little puking, and a lot of mucous around our house for the last month or more. We will spare you pictures of this. But we have managed to squeeze in a trip to UVA to visit friends and hit a ball game. We had a small mardi gras celebration, went rock climbing, had a father daughter dance at valentines,Brown creatively dressed up like an astronaut (see grocery bags on Brown). Brown loves taking things apart and inspecting the gears, etc. Lots of playing in the snow especially over the last week - this ice sledding was fast and furious - too fast and too furious at times - Joseays bloody nose was the final straw that finally let Chris’ frozen feet start walking towards home. There has been lots of chasing around the house, lots of dress up, long warm baths and even some movies thrown in here and there. Its winter time here at the Chaffins. Come visit soon, cause spring will be on us, and we will be out of the house!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-69115282317987244502014-12-25T15:01:00.000-08:002014-12-25T15:01:03.676-08:00Christmas list<div class="MsoNormal">
Each Christmas, our kids take another step in figuring out
this whole Santa thing. Last year was
the first year that they really remembered a Christmas past so that the
anticipation was big. This year, that is
still the case. But they have been
reading a book where the kids make a list of things they want – a list so long
they have to tape sheets of paper together.
So of course, our kids thought, that is a great idea. So they make their lists, stapling multiple sheets
with lists of various toys. Of course
their desire to write outpaces their spelling ability which makes the list even
more interesting. Here is a snap shot of
what we are talking about. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now you may be wondering what the “incepr” is. If you weren't before, you are now. This of course is an innkeeper. I have no idea why my son wants an innkeeper. I have yet to really be able to parse out
what he thinks an innkeeper is. We keep
joking about putting a man in his stocking.
I think finally this afternoon when we were reading a kids picture book
of this story that he understood what he was asking for. He just laughed and said “maybe I will
scratch that off my list.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Good times. Merry
Christmas. Perhaps if we all crossed off the unnecessary things on our lists
and tried focusing on others’ lists, this would be a sweeter time of year.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-727478920133057752014-11-26T03:15:00.001-08:002014-11-26T03:15:47.400-08:00Belly laughs and station wagons<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This past Sunday, we had popcorn, cheese and apples as per usual during the evening, but we got to share this feast with our friends the fortneys. We watched </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">charlie brown’s thanksgiving</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> which I was hoping the kids would enjoy. But I didn't expect the peals of laughter coming from the youngest two kids there. They were letting loose belly laughs, mostly at the physical humor. Near the end of the video, the characters all pile into the back of an old school station wagon where the seats face each other. Like the kind that we all spent countless hours in carpooling to swim practice, soccer, church, school, going camping etc. Anyway, as the characters on the screen were piling into the couches, Charlotte Fortney said “why is there a living room in the back of the car?” It was our turn to belly laugh. This thanksgiving, we have much to be thankful for, big and small. Big in the sense that we have our freedom, we have friends, and we have a Savior who continues to guide us through life to our ultimate destination. And small things. Like belly laughs with our kids. </span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-6b064c4f-ebce-b378-4f4a-68dca7d577d7"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">May your pumpkin pie be interrupted at least once this season by a huge unexpected belly laugh.</span></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-17915218347396820822014-05-30T02:34:00.001-07:002014-05-30T02:40:40.682-07:00FearlessDid I mention that girl is fearless? A few weeks ago, it was just Joseay and I at the house, she had been riding her bike a bit, then we were wandering in the woods. Weirdly enough, most of the trees in the woods are not good climbing trees, so despite having tons of trees, my kids really haven't climbed trees to any great extent. So I got to looking around and found a hemlock tree that would be serviceable. At first, she didn't really get it, didn't get the concept. But as soon as she put her head up a few feet into the branches, this happened:<br>
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I like the fact that she still has her helmet on...<br>
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A few weeks later, the week before Easter, we were at the lake with some other kids all of who were sort of playing at the edge of the water, dipping their toes in and talking about how cold it was. Joseay then takes a running leap off the dock and splashes into the water. You didn't even have to look to know who it was. Now she got out pretty quickly as the week before Easter, it was still pretty chilly.<br>
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This is going to be exciting...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-4331000789634616762014-03-28T02:33:00.002-07:002014-03-28T02:33:18.029-07:00Young Capitalists<span id="docs-internal-guid-40b6e51e-0808-057b-87bb-56627b0efab3"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spring is just beginning to push up with the flowers, buds and a bit of green showing up. Our front yard is covered with dandelions and other weeks. I quixotically pick the dandelions every year, likely to no avail. Last year the kids sort of helped. But last weekend, instead of asking them to pick the dandelions, I simply “charged” them 3 dandelions to be pushed on the swing which is their activity of choice these days. They completely loved it, running around the yard, searching for the dandelions. They would come running back with their dandelions, do the swing, and then dash off again. It was a cross between Tom Sawyer and the fence and a lesson in capitalism as a motivator.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-64049367641282860792014-02-13T08:33:00.002-08:002014-02-13T08:33:19.665-08:00Valentines and snow<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Feb 13, 2014 Late morning, inches and inches of snow</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-700a252e-2c18-45e6-473a-15a13eb755f6" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Last friday was the father daughter dance so Joseay and I got dressed up and went. Problem was,she had been a bit ill for a few days, but desperately wanted to go. So we drove out there, I carried her in through the freezing wind to the Embassy Suites where there were hundreds of dads and daughters. she had been asking about the desserts, or more specifically the sweets that we would have. I didn’t understand until we got there that when I said Embassy suites, she was hearing Embassy Sweets. Of course. The viewpoint of a 4 year old Excellent. She was quite proud to be the little lady and see all the other girls there. She held up for about an hour until she started crying on the dance floor. She was exhausted. So we made our way home and she fell very quickly asleep. A memorable if not enjoyable night!</span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The next day, we had to clear out of our house as they were putting stain on the floors. We stayed in Cleveland a couple of nights before relocating to the Goods for a couple of nights for round one of the snow. But last night, we got back to our house and the bottom dropped out- inches and inches of snow that we have been outside playing in today. It should all melt pretty quickly as the sun is out and expects to hit 40 today. But we will see. This is the storm that our kids will remember..</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-24296018598480449012013-12-25T02:36:00.002-08:002013-12-25T02:53:50.299-08:00ExpectantDecember 25, 2013. Quiet. Cold. Expectant. Excited.<br>
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I was in bed this morning trying to think about how our kids were feeling. Or how they would be feeling in a few hours. I remembered back to my childhood and for the first time in a long time, I could remember in great detail my childhood room. The smell, the feel of the wallpaper, the crunch of the carpet. But mostly the excitement of Christmas morning. It was the presents, the family, the fun, the food. But mostly the expectation. The thought of Christmas morning. The idea of it was almost more fun the actual morning. Chris and I were driving the kids around looking at lights last night, and we said we just wanted one more week before Christmas. As that came out of my mouth, I was struck with the contrast in how kids just ache for Christmas to be here. They are pushing for Christmas to hurry while we adults are pushing back to enjoy the moments of expectation. Of course, for all our pushing, there is no changing the inexorable march of time. Christmas is here. Or at least in my kids world, it will be here in a couple of hours. I am up, with the Christmas tree lights on. Looking at the tree, hanging out with the memories of my childhood, but mostly expectant. Expectant for my kids to come crashing through the door as they make their memories.<br>
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Merry Christmas to all the kids and former kids out there.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8ownjFZ_HUSOhVDKRtMg3DCd3ADoez2Gn6toqGlP3JPK1NCHFjVakvvqY3N2HqYlKF2EVAooDHm6a-LsLThEN3jVZ4h-ggdYo2lKTm0uOQtw-AFWECOWRO4v3N80HIupO_-VtHLs0zA/s640/blogger-image--1327625835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8ownjFZ_HUSOhVDKRtMg3DCd3ADoez2Gn6toqGlP3JPK1NCHFjVakvvqY3N2HqYlKF2EVAooDHm6a-LsLThEN3jVZ4h-ggdYo2lKTm0uOQtw-AFWECOWRO4v3N80HIupO_-VtHLs0zA/s640/blogger-image--1327625835.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-24412683370013471342013-11-23T16:34:00.002-08:002013-11-23T16:34:46.556-08:00Foggy<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">November 16, 2013. Early, foggy.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-594421ba-8788-b7e3-f8f0-48e5d78694ee" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This week was one of those weeks that you notice changes in your kids. I know they are changing all the time, but I think we only see it in waves and even then, I think we always see it late. That is we always think of them as being younger than they actually are. We sort of ignore it until it is forced upon us, and then we notice all the changes that have happened since the last time we opened our eyes. Perhaps we as parents would go a little nuts if we noticed the changes every single day. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Normally, when we read to the kids, they fight over who gets to sit in my lap. So we have a routine where Brown gets to sit in the lap at nap ("when there is sunshine") and Joseay gets the lap at night ("but its darktime, it is my turn"). That has worked well for quite some time. So long that I guess I hoped it would be the same. Until high school. Or beyond. So this world was shattered this week. We were climbing in the reading chair after pajamas had been put on, teeth brushed, books picked out and I realized they were not jostling to get in my lap, but they were each trying to stay out of my lap. They were fighting to not sit in my lap. Oh misery. Its hard to be animated reading Cat in the Hat when you want to cry.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ok, maybe that is a bit of exaggeration because I am sure the next time I read, there will be good snuggling and we can pretend that they are not growing up. But I have been served notice: This will not last forever. Childhood, like the rest of life, is a vapor. </span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The morning fog is very nice and even comforting this morning. But the sun and the winds of change are coming soon.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-16546508891267659932013-11-16T03:32:00.001-08:002013-11-16T03:35:04.669-08:00Morning Fog<div>November 16, 2013. Early, foggy.</div><div><br></div><div>This week was one of those weeks that you notice changes in your kids. I know they are changing all the time, but I think we only see it in waves and even then, I think we always see it late. That is we always think of them as being younger than they actually are. We sort of ignore it until it is forced upon us, and then we notice all the changes that have happened since the last time we opened our eyes. Perhaps we as parents would go a little nuts if we noticed the changes every single day. </div><div><br></div><div>Normally, when we read to the kids, they fight over who gets to sit in my lap. So we have a routine where Brown gets to sit in the lap at nap ("when there is sunshine") and Joseay gets the lap at night ("but its darktime, it is my turn"). That has worked well for quite some time. So long that I guess I hoped it would be the same. Until high school. Or beyond. So this world was shattered this week. We were climbing in the reading chair after pajamas had been put on, teeth brushed, books picked out and I realized they were not jostling to get in my lap, but they were each trying to stay out of my lap. They were fighting to not sit in my lap. Oh misery. Its hard to be animated reading Cat in the Hat when you want to cry.</div><div><br></div><div>Ok, maybe that is a bit of exageration because I am sure the next time I read, there will be good snuggling and we can pretend that they are not growing up. But I have been served notice: This will not last forever. Childhood, like the rest of life, is a vapor. </div><div><br></div><div>The morning fog is very nice and even comforting this morning. But the sun and the winds of change are coming soon.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KBXMWgZLJLUc3xqI_BhkfWxeQ9UrDxQaTLjQ0ycEN1Ai6-b3VFYt9JZ36gndxr607HLFY7a7WMFpSDMfcNYLUDmaDkcJRInqTW9_8f1TeSFhmGOHGGHdYO17pjj4z6AcPxrhMDBCsIg/s640/blogger-image-1387928673.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KBXMWgZLJLUc3xqI_BhkfWxeQ9UrDxQaTLjQ0ycEN1Ai6-b3VFYt9JZ36gndxr607HLFY7a7WMFpSDMfcNYLUDmaDkcJRInqTW9_8f1TeSFhmGOHGGHdYO17pjj4z6AcPxrhMDBCsIg/s640/blogger-image-1387928673.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-85643490355621771352013-10-17T02:36:00.002-07:002014-04-25T08:40:28.325-07:00Autumn Song<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Have I mentioned the kids are growing up quickly? Brown is taking such initiative, from simply grabbing his own food, to deciding where he wants to go, to simply making up his own games. When I got home yesterday, he insisted that I pull into the garage so that he could change my oil. Then, we pulled mom’s car into the garage so it could be just like the oil change place that he had been to earlier in the day. Then he and Joseay began to do all sorts of things, fill up the tires with air from the hose (an old rope) looking under the cars, opening the doors…</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-1c61fde2-c5c8-d61a-edd0-7617de3a0b30" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Joseay is certainly flowering more fully into herself which means we are getting a more full picture of her strong personality that has good and bad sides! She is so powerful. I got this email from Chris the other day while I was at work: </span><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thought you would enjoy this sweet song Joseay just made up when I was tucking her in for nap. I thought it might be God's favorite praise song He has heard all day: </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">God, I love youuuuuu. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sunshine is so pretty. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The bees are so stingy. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">God loves us so much, much, much. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He loves me so much</span><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">."</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So stingy. Awesome.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-46192960432861020342013-08-25T03:58:00.001-07:002013-08-25T03:58:22.811-07:00Home Barber<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-55bab108-b514-8dec-da60-41fdc6bd4a1a" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkrIzkC5ezhq8VDk5nL4gPYm4XHgCvvZVGClwHmdKU96MKzFJ_rgWhzRC8423UW1GaoJHHPhRwYUWoYyR6DxevcAWGo_P63MafGiXpfv8_aB8NpEWLFpjWGp5HtVCnzA-W2x2fxyngAGc/s1600/IMG_1975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkrIzkC5ezhq8VDk5nL4gPYm4XHgCvvZVGClwHmdKU96MKzFJ_rgWhzRC8423UW1GaoJHHPhRwYUWoYyR6DxevcAWGo_P63MafGiXpfv8_aB8NpEWLFpjWGp5HtVCnzA-W2x2fxyngAGc/s1600/IMG_1975.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Well, I suppose it had to happen. Is there anyone who gets through childhood without some sort of brush with this experience? Chris and I were on a date, riding bikes to dinner. We get a call from the babysitter which of course is never a good thing. She says the kids were laughing really loud as she was cleaning the kitchen. She went to see what was happening and this is what she found: </span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">According to the kids, it was Joseay’s idea to have Brown cut her hair. Luckily it was in the back and is really hard to tell and really, no harm done - though it did take Joseay 3 years to get her hair this long!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-60639356118841013812013-08-14T05:13:00.000-07:002013-08-14T06:33:48.310-07:00Pride on his face<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span id="docs-internal-guid--4c3f168-772d-22a9-88fc-e9969ce6d248" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So he has been riding a balance bike for about a year and a half, and has been peddling the little go cart around for a year or more. So he has all the skills (pedaling and balancing). But we just hadn’t taken the time to push him to ride a regular bike. He is quite timid and so it was going to take some pushing to do this. So I started jogging with him on the streets around our rental house at the beach as he peddled and pretty much just leaned on me as we motored around. He had knee and elbow pads for the inevitable wipe out that was coming, but he never caught the fever. So this went on for days. One, day we were pretty much just playing in the surf. I had pointed out several kids as they went by on the beach riding their bikes. You could tell he was thinking, putting the pieces together. But when his cousin and Nana got on their bikes and started down the beach, that was it. He simply said, I want to ride my bike. I said I would get his pads and all and he said, I don’t want them, just my helmet and shoes. And with that, he put on his shoes, donned his helmet, got on his bike, and with a little push, he took off and that was that. How proud we all were, including Brown.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span id="goog_1640620944"></span><span id="goog_1640620945"></span><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-52429708271876072462013-07-22T04:14:00.001-07:002013-07-22T04:14:57.628-07:00The Tooth of Time<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid--4c3f168-0613-9279-2954-ec1b104766fe" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My dad has been out at Philmont scout ranch doing some training this summer. We spent a week or two there when I was a kid and I remember they have this mountain or prominence with a large exposed rock that they call the tooth of time. It certainly looks like a tooth, but why it is called the tooth of time, I don’t know.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Brown lost his second tooth this weekend, and actually kept up with it this time - I am convinced he swallowed his first one. This second one was hanging by a thread and it kept him up his whole nap time fiddling with it but eventually he came out with it in his hand smiling really big. He is growing up for sure. Its nice that we are designed in such a way that our physical bodies change as we grow up. This is a great reminder to me that both my kids are maturing on the inside as well. Not only has he lost all of that babyness in his form and is a long and lanky boy now, but he is learning about the world, how it works, and how he fits in. Every time he loses a tooth, we can remind ourselves that he is no longer a baby. Each tooth is brick in the building. A rock in the mountain. Step by step, we grow, change, mature, and learn. Time scoots by. May I savour each moment. </span><img class="ev MAvK1e lg7oNe" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ZNqls7-sMFk/Ue0QZLzgcJI/AAAAAAAAb-A/jz1Jcn9Lfak/w506-h899-o/photo.jpg" />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-3799861280008972032013-04-27T11:25:00.000-07:002013-04-27T11:25:47.230-07:00Reading, Riding and Rithmetic (at least subtraction)<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-62d67228-4cba-8697-65a0-aab095d2bc2b" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So we are blessed with children who love books. They love to be read to and are both loving the idea of being able to read, pointing out letters and guessing what the words are. Today, Joseay read me a book, making up the entire story herself. Of course the book had nothing to do with her story, but that is where we are hanging out right now. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Joseay
has been riding her bike well for a year or so, but just last week
week, I went for a run for the first time with her riding her bike. Me
pushing her up some of the bigger hills but her doing everything else.
Braking, steering, staying to the side when there was a car. It was
great fun. It felt like she was about 10 years old which is, I am
convinced, how old she thinks she is.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Brown
did a great first the other day as well. We were eating manicotti and
he had it all cut into pieces on his plate. He counted “1,2,3,4,5,6.
Ok, now I take away one,” as he put one in his mouth “and then there
are 1,2,3,4,5. He was so proud of himself. I think he suddenly got the
idea of subtrction. It was really cool to see it happen. So then he
took another bite. And said 5 take away one is 1,2,3,4. Then he took
another bite and without even looking said 3. Took another bite and
said 2. Another then 1. After taking the last bite, he held up his
thumb and first finger in the shape of a zero. He was so excited, his
cheeks were full and we all cheered as he finally began to chew that
mass of manicotti in his mouth.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-48829781051034673252013-04-08T12:40:00.003-07:002013-04-08T12:40:41.812-07:00A glimpse of perfection: Easter in the rearview<i>I didn't know Chris had mentioned the snow globes yet. But here was my take on them post Easter.</i><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Easter
is about perfection and imperfection, God and the world. And about the
invasion of one from the other. We thought he had died, another disappointment when there seemed such promise. Yet we were used to
imperfection, so we were ready to go on. But Easter is about that
perfection rising again, something we are not used to. Easter is the
promise fulfilled, about making whole what was broken.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/cPbuf_icFeW1M-1CspX88mOgqVANfdFpmzBT7wIBwHIRQueQMzlMXjJ9_3sjgqmp6L_vZ29DoCPWuDmTmSXCNd4jRKyvzJkrOu0l14fhBbjPKGUQuZKo7onfUA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/cPbuf_icFeW1M-1CspX88mOgqVANfdFpmzBT7wIBwHIRQueQMzlMXjJ9_3sjgqmp6L_vZ29DoCPWuDmTmSXCNd4jRKyvzJkrOu0l14fhBbjPKGUQuZKo7onfUA" width="173" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">broken again</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So
it was fitting that we had a small picture of this in our house this Easter to remind us of this conjunction. Have your kids ever had those
glass snow globes that you shake up to watch a brief snowfall over some
seasonal scene? Have you ever wondered why in the world we would give
kids a glass ball where the object was to shake it? Should we be
surprised at the outcome? so several weeks before Easter, we went
through the all too predictable scenario of having one for each child,
then broken glass and water everywhere, cleaning, finding more glass,
telling them to be careful with the remaining one, then repeating -
broken, water, glass, clean. So they were both broken well before
Easter and I thought that was the end of it. Then unannounced, two more
showed up at our house on Easter weekend. Gifts. Thanks. Did we
learn? Not so much. within hours, here was the result: broken again. </span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So
this has been my picture of our imperfect attempts, over and over to
learn to live in Gods kingdom, knowing that grace is our only ticket.
We try, we fail, we remember grace. Not a bad lesson from some two
dollar trinket.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/gf1w1GwWkjqc-K8EZgO-IIzoc03aOEzTF3KDhYWJSFzoH6I8ha9Tbz3vXh03KQg_M5xA-DO1qd0scI4c70zsL0EIRDdnkeRfxrFCV4S3WjBVtiW8nL8zWBFV-Q" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/gf1w1GwWkjqc-K8EZgO-IIzoc03aOEzTF3KDhYWJSFzoH6I8ha9Tbz3vXh03KQg_M5xA-DO1qd0scI4c70zsL0EIRDdnkeRfxrFCV4S3WjBVtiW8nL8zWBFV-Q" width="147" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hope for next year</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">By
the way, we did tuck the last unbroken snow globe away until next year.
</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It will serve as a symbol of perfection. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A symbol of Easter. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A symbol
of life where death is expected. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Then we will try to pull it out and
not break it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Again. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Any guesses as to the outcome?</span> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-25102936543545886832013-04-08T12:20:00.001-07:002013-04-08T12:20:47.444-07:00Stunned, pre Easter by Chris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-jG0b9vJXBMPKiHA4Oh8KM-Cp48yAWeZjAND8qF35V0ETuqXm0q_Wb9JSm9ihloR9h9vxZsslaWqnTEyaT79z7SesOL4H0JzoLgQspzbqyrusr6-hCSOZ6935hJewT8MMwY0nxPvVyQ/s1600/suitcase.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-jG0b9vJXBMPKiHA4Oh8KM-Cp48yAWeZjAND8qF35V0ETuqXm0q_Wb9JSm9ihloR9h9vxZsslaWqnTEyaT79z7SesOL4H0JzoLgQspzbqyrusr6-hCSOZ6935hJewT8MMwY0nxPvVyQ/s320/suitcase.jpeg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
Butter and Papa (Chris's parents) are back in town after a 4 month leave to Baton Rouge. We haven't seen them since before Thanksgiving so the kids were very excited for their reunion a couple of days ago. One of my mom's loves in life is buying little fun things for the kids to spoil them. It was like Christmas morning over here as she dragged in 4 big bags of loot for them. Two of the presents were a huge hit - rolling suitcases - Minnie Mouse for Joseay and Buzz Lightyear for Brown. They have adored them! Hours and hours of entertainment through the house as they have raced each other and pretended to go on all types of adventures with their new suitcases. <br />
<br />
The other huge hits were the two Easter snow globes. Little bunny rabbits in a glass globes of glittery water. I'm not sure how they have gotten so much entertainment out of these things, but they love them! Different strokes... So this morning, Brown was walking into the kitchen and dropped his snow globe and of course it shattered glass and glitter water all over the floor. Stunned. Sadness. Ugggh. He looked at it and quietly and sadly said, "aahhhh... I broke my snow globe." He wasn't crying or pitching a fit - just obviously bummed about it. We were getting the broom and dustpan out and Joseay yelled, "BROWN!!! YOU CAN HAVE MY SNOWGLOBE!!!" Again... stunned. But it was ME being stunned. Man! She has done this kind of thing so many times lately. A three year old. One who adores her snow globe. And she is giving it to her brother. And her face lit up when she handed him her snowglobe. She sees the hurt and she wants to make him feel better. She sees a need and she does something about it. I have been so thankful and amazed to see this naturally flowing out of her. It is so cool!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ00G_PbnnYZoP1FKC32g3znmL3C4gDz0Xfc14p_32xcukzSisgaxNs2eSwFpPwI-XWF3TA1SuRxQSleOP8mfPLxfq80DFQHBqBez0klVTDN65UDXVzcHEpMXNjFvDdQbhASS-cGpC_Gs/s1600/snowglobe.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ00G_PbnnYZoP1FKC32g3znmL3C4gDz0Xfc14p_32xcukzSisgaxNs2eSwFpPwI-XWF3TA1SuRxQSleOP8mfPLxfq80DFQHBqBez0klVTDN65UDXVzcHEpMXNjFvDdQbhASS-cGpC_Gs/s320/snowglobe.jpeg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
Last week we had some friends over and their youngest girl, Bella, is 2 or younger. We were all just hanging out in the kitchen and suddenly Joseay yelled, "GUYS!!! I have something for you!" She took off running to her room. When she came back, she had one of her very favorite dress up outfits (Minnie Mouse dress) in her hands and she gave it to Bella and said, "This will fit YOU! It's too little for me! You can have it!!!" She was so excited to give it to Bella. And then she remembered she had the Mouse Ears Headband to go with it and ran back and got it for her. So Bella put it on and wore it around the house and then wore it home. <br />
<br />
I am amazed. I believe that God creates us all so differently. I'm thankful because I feel like when God created her, He gave her a little extra dose of compassion or empathy or generosity. I don't even know what to call it. I'm just really thankful that God placed that in her heart and I hope that she will always use it to bless others and glorify God. I'm very proud that she is my daughter. And still a little stunned. :) Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-77643340163272701642012-12-29T03:46:00.004-08:002012-12-30T03:18:28.709-08:00The mind of a child<span id="internal-source-marker_0.2886073242600007" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Earlier
in the fall, after a long summer of light and warmth, as the dark
evenings began to grow, Joseay became very concerned one evening. She
asked where the light was going. Now I have to add that we are fairly
regular on our bedtimes, generally by 8 or so. So when she asked this, I
really didn’t know what she meant. But after talking about it with her
for a while, I realized that she has simply no recollection of being
awake when it was dark outside. She thought it was getting ready to
storm as that is the only time she saw darkness when she was awake.
Weird.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We
have just come through Christmas which has been very fun with the kids,
though I have to say that the whole Santa deception thing is a bit
much. I have my doubts as to what it is doing to their concept of the
world/God/Jesus. Especially when Brown asked if God was going to come
down the chimney. There are too many confusing mysteries in the world
as it is, it seems almost overwhelming for a kid. (I just realized that
my kids have been jumping on my back and asking for a piggybank ride.
I need to somehow explain that I am not a pig, but they are welcome to
ride on my back, and for some strange reason, we put our change in a
container shaped like a pig, what can be confused?) But they seemed to
have a blast with Christmas. We got them kayaks and they have loved them despite the fact
that they have not moved beyond the doors of the house yet. Who knew
you could have hours of fun pushing your kayak around the house,
pretending it is all manner of things. And I was worried they would be
disappointed that we couldn’t use them for a few months. I am not even
sure they realize that they go in the water!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This
might be the last year, but they are so very innocent and have not yet
learned to be materialistic like the rest of us. We went to the
Chattanooga market a few weeks ago and they had a Santa roaming around.
They of course first were scared, but after a while, they mustered the
courage to approach him. He gave them a candy cane which they were
thoroughly impressed with. Several days later, someone asked them what
they wanted from Santa, and their reply was that they had already gotten
a candy cane. They were done.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We
pray for their hearts, that as they grow, they would mature, but keep
at least a portion of that childlike innocence. And we pray that we
would relearn this gift during this Christmas season.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11298923328706659341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31346010253694286.post-51513358636752097992012-11-17T11:24:00.001-08:002012-11-17T11:24:40.071-08:00Summer of Firsts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRBIYu6cyvdksDi46wMkqw32-a1k_japFoDGPS8Bn45nRqxNrTrru_Jwyf0EwoWlL2CACsk7XBlFbIu91AfUG-3ZGJ5S-BlOo5kf2-ZRDPjTrX9zSRA4jkgNlyGIjUR-18Lq1aYYIIcI/s1600/Brown+on+dock.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRBIYu6cyvdksDi46wMkqw32-a1k_japFoDGPS8Bn45nRqxNrTrru_Jwyf0EwoWlL2CACsk7XBlFbIu91AfUG-3ZGJ5S-BlOo5kf2-ZRDPjTrX9zSRA4jkgNlyGIjUR-18Lq1aYYIIcI/s320/Brown+on+dock.JPG" fea="true" height="320" width="239" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjTjPQqGdQAzEJfGrh9aFIGKM2aDgd4rv-Q-5h3HfGEs9nhyzFheq5bLD9SliXS_3YKLxueF_vTwZRDqCtRoiHA7RwtPKxg5iiaIDMOYd2V8Wn1M-vdpfFXea21DxFcxUZihyphenhyphenboB6QGA/s1600/Joseay+jumping+in+lake.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjTjPQqGdQAzEJfGrh9aFIGKM2aDgd4rv-Q-5h3HfGEs9nhyzFheq5bLD9SliXS_3YKLxueF_vTwZRDqCtRoiHA7RwtPKxg5iiaIDMOYd2V8Wn1M-vdpfFXea21DxFcxUZihyphenhyphenboB6QGA/s320/Joseay+jumping+in+lake.JPG" fea="true" height="320" width="239" /></a><span style="color: #444444;">Maybe a bit late to record this, but we had lots of firsts this summer. Both kids learned how to swim, both started school, Joseay is out of diapers and out of her crib, and Brown is riding horses. Fun times.</span></div>
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