tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63765648251222734932024-03-12T19:42:50.778-04:00The ramblings of a mother of 3A random blog about my life being a Christian wife, cook and a Mother of 3 beautiful children, One with Spina Bifida, One that thinks she is a princess fairy and One that is going to be an NFL player.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-51118649422408884512015-12-07T10:29:00.000-05:002015-12-07T10:29:15.663-05:00For my siblings:I hope this isn't too impersonal, I write when emotions are raw (so like 2am- ha). I mean every word of this in the most loving manner. I'm not implying you guys can't do this because I know you can, but I wanted to give you words of encouragement. <br />
Love you all so very much. <br />
<br />
Perhaps this will be filed under "unsolicited advice" but I hope you each get to take something from this. <br />
You're both starting new chapters in your life, chapters that I started years ago. My adventures have been less than perfect, but I've survived thus far. As kids, dad always said since I was the oldest "I stepped in all the holes first" and the two of you got a better fighting chance because you saw what I did and could reroute your "walk". For the most part you both did, not because you saw what I did but most likely because you were better kids (haha). <br />
<br />
For my beautiful sister. You've got the marriage thing down pat, I don't ever see you asking for or needing marital advice from me :). You've been an amazing aunt for almost 15 years, so I'm pretty sure you'll have this mom thing down to a "t". Here are the things I would tell myself if I could go back, and what I want you to know. <br />
-Don't rush anything. Your babies will talk, walk, roll over, eat real food when they are ready and at some point you'll wish for those days back. <br />
- time moves so slow, yet so very fast. There will be days that you're so exhausted you'll beg for your child to sleep. Then one day you'll look back and think "remember when we thought he/she would never stop crying/sleep" etc. and you'll want that time back. When in doubt 2 Corinthians 4:17 "for our present troubles are small and won't last forever!...... "This too shall pass", dear sister. <br />
-99.99999% of the time, our parents were right. <br />
-you'll become our Mother, embrace it, She is an amazing woman. It's shocking the first time you hear Mom come out of your mouth, but eventually, it's normal. <br />
-you have a mommy gut instinct, use it, trust it, sometimes you'll be wrong, that's ok, always rely on it. <br />
-Doctors aren't always right.<br />
-kiss your boys as much as you can, one day, they'll not want your kisses in public, but don't worry, it doesn't last long. :) <br />
-being a Mom is the most amazing feeling. There's no love like the love of a Mother for her children. They will try your patience, be patient anyway. They will test your sanity, breathe, it's only temporary. You'll be exhausted, mentally, physically; smile, you'll survive. <br />
-you'll receive more unsolicited advice than you thought possible (like this), accept it with grace and a smile then forget the crazy ones, the good advice will resurface in your mind when you need it. <br />
-Vicks vapor rub on bottoms of feet with socks. Trust me, this is probably one of the only old remedies that I will swear by. (I mean I'm sure whiskey on teething gums works, but here stateside, I believe it's frowned upon :-p) <br />
-these are your children, you get to decide what's best. Sometimes a family member may disagree with your choice, it's ok, do it/allow it anyway. <br />
-most importantly, I've been there, three times. I am ALWAYS here, I will listen and not judge, I'll do my best to offer advice only when asked of me, you can cry, laugh, scream, whatever. Just know- I'm here. I LOVE YOU and miss you more than you'll ever know. <br />
- Be patient with me, this long distance Auntie thing is hard. My intentions are always out of love. <br />
<br />
My dearest "widdle brudder", my how time has flown. With our huge age difference, you basically grew up with 3 mothers, sorry about that. You and I are probably more alike than we care to admit. We are "Humphries" through and through. (sorry about that Anna. :-) ). Some of these I'm still learning:<br />
Both of you:<br />
-Set goals, don't settle, always compromise and work together to attain those goals. <br />
-Don't go to bed angry, it's old and perhaps cliche, but it's true. Don't do it. <br />
- You're going to argue, do it with grace, patience and love. <br />
- life is hard, but it's easier with God. <br />
- Read "The Love Dare" and "5 love languages" when things get hectic, revert back to them without telling your spouse, they'll follow your lead. <br />
- Don't smother each other, keep the spark there, but leave some breathing room. <br />
- respect each other, always.<br />
- Balancing a marriage and in-laws is tough. You're going to screw up, you're going to think you're failing- you're not, you're learning. <br />
- Read Corinthians 13:4-7, replace the word "Love" & "It" (referring to love) with your name. This is what you should strive for. <br />
Anna: <br />
-We can drive by a 5 million dollar home and see the window is off-center, yet we forget to see our own flaws, don't worry with age you start to realize it. Be patient and loving. <br />
- We are weird, I mean there's no better way to put it, we are quirky- embrace it, it's a strong gene. <br />
- we go on the defense, fast. Both of you must acknowledge each other's feeling without going into defense mode. <br />
- Continue to grow in the Lord, everything else will fall into place, even when it's controlled chaos. <br />
- don't be afraid to tell him your needs. He may scoff, but deep down, he heard you. <br />
<br />
Ashton: (you'll always be Ashton to me)<br />
- When in doubt on how to react in a situation, think about the Men in our lives (Grandaddy, Pawt, Daddy) and how they would have reacted. Our Father is patient, loving and loves our Mother with all of his heart, be like him. <br />
- She's going to make you mad, react calmly. <br />
- Don't yell or curse when you react. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. <br />
- be selfless in all you do.<br />
- One day, you'll have children of your own, but, for now think to yourself "Am I setting a good example of the type of man I want my niece to marry?" If you'd be upset with Avery's husband for something you've done, you should probably change that way. She's watching, and so will your children. <br />
- It is ok to cry.<br />
- Don't stop "dating" her. <br />
- Embrace your inner Melonie, she's there, she's the most loving, selfless person I know. <br />
- I am ALWAYS HERE. Anytime, no matter what. I LOVE YOU very much!<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-44360256055186460782015-04-01T10:35:00.001-04:002015-04-01T10:35:07.906-04:00Avery Brooke<br><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I don't even know where to start. I was just going to make a facebook post and realized there isn't enough characters allowed for everything I want to say about this child. If you're new to reading my (not so up-to-date) blog I have 3 kids. 2 boys 1 my oldest the other my youngest, I love my boys it is a different love, a mother son love, a love that I'm raising strong, independent young men and teaching them how to treat and love a woman but in the same respect how to not be used and fall victim to crazy ones (lol). I also have a girl a sweet, sensitive, dramatic not-so-little-anymore girl, my sweet Avery Brooke. This will be brutally honest but stick with me because hopefully in the end it will make all sorts of sense. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I didn't want a girl. I'm not a girly girl, I dress up ok when I need to but I'm no where near high maintenance I need 10 minutes tops to get ready. Being a mother of a boy worked for me, he fell I told him to get up and brush it off, he got dirty I could just pass it off as "he's a boy", he plays sports and I'm his biggest fan. The day I went to find out what Avery would be I went just absolutely knowing she was a boy, she had to be, what on earth would I do with a girl!? I was 12 weeks pregnant and there she was legs spread on a teeny black and white monitor with all the little girl parts. Surely he was wrong!? I mean 12 weeks is early to be 100% positive. He told me not to paint the room pink but he was 90% sure that he was indeed a she. Fast forward to my 20week ultrasound it was confirmed I'm being thrusted into the world of unknowns. I was a horrible kid rebellious and angry and my sister was the girly girl, God, what am I going to do if she wants dresses all the time!? I became ok with the fact it was a girl, I even started buying little girl clothes, dresses and pink shirts adorned with "daddy's little princess" sayings on it. Who am I becoming!? </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">December 3rd I was handed a screaming hot beautiful mess of a pink bundle. I fell so deeply in love with this child. Laying in the hospital bed alone with her and her sweet squeaky breathing as she slept, I promised her to be the best mom I could ever be, that I would teach her how to be a lady but not to ever have to depend on anyone. I knew she would be strong, I knew she would be intelligent and I knew I had my work cut out. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Days turned into months, months into years, 7 to be exact. She's a drama queen, she wears her emotions on her sleeve (she got that from me, not that I readily admit it, I grew tough skin with a hard exterior you've only seen me have emotions if I trust you now) she wants so badly to help everyone she sees, her heart is bigger than her body. She has a good little mixture of Tom boy and Princess. Any day it's above 30° outside you'll find her in girly clothing but barely recognize it since it's covered in mud. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I'm hard on her, very hard. I realize this, I'm determined. I need her to know how strong she is, I need her to use that strong willed attitude for the good, I want her to go far. I want her to let those nasty words someone says roll right off her back without even thinking twice be be able to still love that mean person anyway. I want her to achieve it all, to go as far as she wants to go without NEEDING a man to get her through. I want to watch her succeed and then find a man that is her perfect match, that loves her and doesn't hold her back. I WANT SO MUCH FOR HER, and that is why I'm harder on her. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I got a call from the school last week. Avery had been nominated from her class to receive the Student of the Year award. My heart fluttered, I didn't even know this award existed and neither did Avery. That's what makes it special, she wasn't striving to achieve this, she was just being Avery. We kept it a secret. She had no idea why she was there. They started with 5th grade and worked their way backwards. I watched her smile, proud of her peers and clap for them, agree with what the teacher had to say about them, her eyes tear up in joy for them. (Just a side note: this child spent her entire summer memorizing names and faces from her year book, she didn't stop until she could recognize every person in the school and call them by name, she knows them all). It was time for the first grade awards. Her teacher was up first, she still had no idea it was her name that would be called. "I've nominated Avery Williams" her face lit up like Clark Griswold's house at Christmas. She was so happy, so proud, she stood there while Mrs. Eckard read a summary of why she picked Avery:</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">" Avery Williams is not only a hard worker who excels in all academic subjects, she is a kind and caring student who tries to bring out the best in everybody. Avery will go out of her way to help other students in class that are having a bad day or struggling with something. She has kind words to say to everyone and will encourage those who may be frustrated. She gives compliments to her peers and does not hesitate to help when she sees somebody in need. I have noticed Avery is especially kind and helpful to students with special needs. She truly wants to see everyone around her be their best, and she does everything she can to help others achieve and feel good about themselves. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Avery is responsible, kind and respectful to her peers and teachers. I am privileged to be her teacher this year and I know she will do great things in her future" </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I cannot even put into words the feeling I feel in my heart right now, how I have this love, this pride, this feeling that I cannot even begin to put into words for this child. I am beyond blessed to be able to call her my daughter. I am beyond proud of her for being the compassionate, loving, caring, hard working GIRL that she is. I wouldn't trade my children for anything. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Avery, you can do anything you want to, I pray you never change who you truly are. Your compassion, your understanding, your empathy, your love for human kind is absolutely amazing, you are indeed a role model for your peers and adults around you. I love you with all my heart Pootah bear. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">So yeah, I'm a Mom, I have 2 boys and 1 girl and I wouldn't have it any other way. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-58520776722141489732014-10-30T09:32:00.001-04:002014-10-30T09:34:22.271-04:00Two daysWe are in the final days of Gavin's fundraiser. I wanted to tell you a little bit about a normal day with Gavin and how the spina bifida association helps him and will continue to help him throughout his life which is why it's so important to us to raise money. <div><br></div><div>I think that a lot of people see Gavin and have zero idea of what we deal with on the daily basis. I think we shelter the world from what a day with Gavin is like, I'm not sure if we are sheltering you or him but either way it's important to know a little about what our life is like. This isn't for pity, we are so blessed and have the best case of a worse case scenario, this is so you know how important awareness and the SBA is to us.</div><div>Gavin has myleomeningocele, his lesion was from L-4- his sacral region. He also has hydrocephalus which requires him to have a VP shunt, this is inserted through the skull into the ventricles with tubing laying just beneath the skin down his neck and emptying any extra fluid into his abdomen. He also has Arnold Chiari and up until lately he has been asymptomatic. </div><div>Gavin wears AFOs which are braces to help support and correct his ankles/feet. These are a blessing and a curse. They help his muscles Learn the right way to walk and support him so he doesn't fall constantly yet they cause pressure sores on his feet, since G has little to no feeling in his feet these can become serious blisters. We have fought several staph infections including MRSA and cellulitis. When Gavin gets a wound it takes him months to heal and it often looks worse before it looks better. We usually have to take a trip to the ER or pediatrician to get a high strength antibiotic and Jason spends hours cleaning and wrapping his wounds while watching for staph. </div><div>Every week Gavin attends physical therapy, he's been attending PT for 3 years now and every day he gets a little bit stronger. </div><div>Gavin has a neurogenic bladder and had kidney reflux when he was born. The kidney reflux has since corrected itself but his "oddly shaped" and small bladder just cannot hold urine on it's own. This means we have to catheterize him every 3 hours, this is a tedious task and getting on the right schedule can take years. This causes Gavin to have frequent UTIs (which causes him to have to take antibiotics to cure and since he's been on so many antibiotics there are only 2 that work for him). </div><div>Gavin cannot control his bowel all the time, he often gets constipated and that causes his body to clean out during this time we go through at least 10 diapers a day. We've been on 2 different bowel programs neither has worked for him but we are still working on it. Sometimes he recognizes the pressure and can make it to the bathroom on time but most times we are too far from a bathroom to make it in time. Because of these two issues Gavin is and likely will be for the majority of his life in diapers. Out of all the things that we've encountered with spina bifida, this is the hardest for me to swallow. I want my child socially accepted and this makes it complicated. I still pack a diaper bag for my 5 year old son. Gavin also takes medicine to help his bladder hold more urine between cathing, this helps with leaking between times. He is on detrol. </div><div>Along with everything else Gavin has an extremely sensitive gag reflex and high palate, he has texture issues and it's often hard to find a healthy food for him to eat. He's gotten much better but he still stays clear of pudding, mashed potatoes, gravies etc.. It takes him forever to chew pieces of meat and he often soaks his food in whatever drink we've given him at the dinner table (which is quite disgusting at times lol). </div><div>Until recently we thought Gavin's Arnold chiari malformation was asymptomatic, but now we know it isn't. This is where the cerebellum is basically flattened and pulled down blocking the spinal column. Right now the symptoms we are experiencing with this are exhausting. Gavin often gets his emotions confused, if he is happy he may act out as mad or sad and when sad he often laughs. This has made discipline almost impossible. When scolded or punished he often laughs (which at first infuriated me) until we realized this is a psychosocial problem associated with AC. Spanking isn't an option since he cannot feel it and he doesn't care if you take everything he has away. It's an exhausting situation and strenuous on our marriage as well with the other children since if they laughed at us for being punished they would be in hot water. </div><div>Finally I want to talk about my nemesis. The shunt. I will never forget how absolutely heartbroken I was when I got the call he would be having brain surgery the next day. Part of it was selfishness I realize, but the other prt was pure fear. Gavin will never play football,that was the first thing that went through my head, we are a HUGE football family and I realize now that was a selfish and shallow rationale but it was real at the time. Now the real fear is this- we've gone 5 (almost six years without a revision) every single day I wake up with that thought in my head "is today the day?" Because it is something that is inevitable, it will happen, will I know the signs? Will I get him to the hospital in time? Every headache, every morning he actually sleeps in or falls asleep at an abnormal time, every time he is dizzy or sick or acting not himself I have to ask "is this it?" </div><div>There is no cure for spina bifida, Gavin will always have it, it will always be part of him but I will not allow it to define him. It's likely as he gets older he will lose his mobility and have complications but as of right now, we take it one day (and one crisis) at a time. </div><div><br></div><div>Why we support the Spina Bifida association: </div><div>The spina bifida association has been around since the early 70's it is the ONLY national voluntary health agency soley dedicated to enhancing the lives of people and families with people affected by spina bifida (which is the number one permenatntly disabling birth defect in the US). They are the ONLY ONES! The help educate, they help connect us with accurate information and reliable resources. Gavin will benefit from their resources for the remainder of his life and it's imperative that we fundraise to help them remain open. They offer scholarship programs as well, and we all know how important a college education is these days! </div><div><br></div><div>So please consider helping Gavin this year by donating. No donation is too small. Even $5 helps us get closer to our goal </div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If you feel led and can find it in your heart to donate $5 even $10 it would mean so much to our family and other families like us. You can donate here: http://www.gofundme.com/fiv60k</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">100% of the proceeds goes to the cause with that. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Or you can order scentsy here: https://theresavedder.scentsy.us</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Make sure you choose the party "spina bifida awareness" 20% of that goes to the cause. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Thank you! </span></div><div><br></div><div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-72985542733473081182014-10-22T14:23:00.001-04:002014-10-22T14:23:07.009-04:00Some quick updates!Well here we are, it's officially Fall. I've waited all Summerfor Fall and now it's here and BOY AM I SWAMPED! I'm going to do my best to update!<div><br><div>Update 1: It's October so that means SPINA BIFIDA AWARNESS MONTH!! Every year we do a little something to help raise money for the local chapter of the Spina Bifida Association. We usually have an amazing turn out but I realize this year times are just tight on everyone! I was enthusiastic and set a bigger goal (usually we set the goal at $2000, this year I was apparently feeling ambitious and set it at$5000) so Team White Hawk pledged to try and meet a goal of $5000, I thought it would be an easy task, turns out- not so much, HA! So I've <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">lowered my expectations to just 20% of that ($1000). Hopefully we can raise that much. </span></div><div>The spina bifida association is a wonderful organization that has dedicated it's cause to helping families affected by SB. They pour their heart and soul into creating events and finding services for families like us FREE! The SBA means so much to our family, it was one of the only places we found positive yet informative information about our sons diagnosis. We found Peace in reading stories and seeing our REAL options rather than hearing "you should abort", "abortion is your best option now" etc.</div><div>With our support and fundraisers they can keep the doors open and help more families like mine and assist Gavin as he moves forward in life and becomes an adult. </div><div><br></div><div>If you feel led and can find it in your heart to donate $5 even $10 it would mean so much to our family and other families like us. You can donate here: http://www.gofundme.com/fiv60k</div><div>100% of the proceeds goes to the cause with that. </div><div>Or you can order scentsy here: https://theresavedder.scentsy.us</div><div>Make sure you choose the party "spina bifida awareness" 20% of that goes to the cause. </div><div>Thank you! </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nDCgxSgduM4/VEf2BNFHStI/AAAAAAAAA5s/rnZqD5-Yx4Y/s640/blogger-image-1521608395.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nDCgxSgduM4/VEf2BNFHStI/AAAAAAAAA5s/rnZqD5-Yx4Y/s640/blogger-image-1521608395.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Update 2: FIDDLESTICKS! So I am super excited to have been included in this event! This is what it's all about folks! Helping, paying forward all the support and help we received! So I will be giving families touched by special needs or terminal illness FREE photo sessions! Your thoughts and prayers that it runs smoothly will be much appreciated! </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-vIzB9JOCwHE/VEf2CWgjZmI/AAAAAAAAA50/0qeyO_NuHCw/s640/blogger-image-1410710817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-vIzB9JOCwHE/VEf2CWgjZmI/AAAAAAAAA50/0qeyO_NuHCw/s640/blogger-image-1410710817.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Update 3: </div><div>Where do I even begin? As you can see from updates 1 & 2 I am super busy and to top it off I'm running a table at the Holiday bazaar for the littles elementary school PTA which means when I am not up to my elbows in fundraising or photography I'm covered in yarn and crochet needles! </div><div>Avery and Gavin are loving school! Gavin only cries on Wednesdays because I have to go pick him up and take him to physical therapy and then bring him back- that's when he cries. But every day he is getting stronger (physically and emotionally). Both are doing well in school! Walker is growing so fast I just don't know what to do, he's become such a handsome young man. He's playing football for the high school JV team and he is LOVING IT! </div><div>We've all been sick with a cold or something so it's been pretty lazy around the home front. Yesterday all the kids were playing on the big swingset mamaw bought them a few years back (after the tornado broke theirs) and the entire thing collapsed on them Thank God no one was hurt. Gavin broke another AFO (brace) so I have been busy fighting with the insurance company to cover it. It just never ends. Luckily we have a lot of happy things that happen that pretty much cancel out all the bad :) </div><div>Avery is talking about her upcoming birthday and weighing all of her cake options (hopefully it will be something easy on mom :) ). They are both figuring out what they will be for halloween, and by figuring out I mean changing their mind every 2 seconds. This year Walker will be with us for Halloween, this will be the first halloween I've had with him since 2006. I'm pretty excited :) </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Well motherly duties call so I guess that is about it for now! </div><div><br></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-65690996709836749892014-08-22T07:53:00.000-04:002014-08-22T07:54:15.167-04:00A thank you.I am sitting here this morning watching Gavin eat his cereal. I am thinking about the emotions I will go through in the next weeks as he starts his new chapter. Kindergarten. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsiHCgIZyXc/U_cuExcxYiI/AAAAAAAAA44/fiNBM6U-d3g/s1600/kisscameralogo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsiHCgIZyXc/U_cuExcxYiI/AAAAAAAAA44/fiNBM6U-d3g/s320/kisscameralogo.JPG" /></a></div><br />
I am nervous, sad and excited all at the same moment.<br />
<br />
It made me think about everything we have been through to get to this point and all of the friends and family that have been there along the way (you know who you are). I spent probably the first 4 years of his life in a fog, tired mentally and physically and now it is slowly becoming normal, routine. <br />
Without all of you I wouldn't have made it. You guys have stepped up and helped us so much whether it was donating to the Spina Bifida Association, purchasing items from our fundraisers, raffle tickets or just showing up to walk, being there when I needed someone to just cry to and vent even if you didn't understand why I was crying about catheters or enemas or vp shunts, you listened. Some of you just helped by understanding that our family is "special" and our normal is not "normal". Some of you have kept us included regardless if we could make it or not. You have supported Gavin (and the other two) through their sports, you cry with joy over his triumphs even if it is the tiniest of accomplishments. You have made us feel "normal", loved, and included and for all of that, I thank you. <br />
<br />
Gavin's battle isn't over, it will never be over. He will spend the rest of his life in Physical therapy so he can keep his ability to walk, his months will be riddled with doctors appointments, surgeries and his days with medications, orthotics and the like. I am ok though because I know you will all continue to support him.<br />
<br />
I am proud to call you all family (friends included). You will never understand how much it has meant to us. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nKE6jf8XzW4/U_cutVprBjI/AAAAAAAAA5A/M0cG6lIlZ94/s1600/gavin2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nKE6jf8XzW4/U_cutVprBjI/AAAAAAAAA5A/M0cG6lIlZ94/s320/gavin2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oiDkRSdHpJU/U_cutRIk6UI/AAAAAAAAA5I/EPoKreg5_vU/s1600/gavin6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oiDkRSdHpJU/U_cutRIk6UI/AAAAAAAAA5I/EPoKreg5_vU/s320/gavin6.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EiyCRaSR89k/U_cutVPFGzI/AAAAAAAAA5E/VHfQ25UZBhc/s1600/gavin34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EiyCRaSR89k/U_cutVPFGzI/AAAAAAAAA5E/VHfQ25UZBhc/s320/gavin34.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXu4vAPy26w/U_cu920zGyI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/KCPzy0QZ9pY/s1600/gdarthbwwatermarked.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXu4vAPy26w/U_cu920zGyI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/KCPzy0QZ9pY/s320/gdarthbwwatermarked.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-42606902891099151262014-07-15T10:48:00.000-04:002014-07-15T10:48:49.847-04:00The climb....My husband and I have been married for 7 years. Walker was 6, Avery was born the year we married, Gavin 18 months after that. When we were told of Gavin's birth defects, it was like a slap in the face. We have struggled, mentally, physically and financially for the past 5 years. Jason has been working hard while I stay home and be Mom. <br />
I found peace in photography, Jason found peace in fishing. For the past few years we've been talking about how we can better our family, financially, yet still give back to the community. We have thrown so many ideas around but they all seem to revolve around spina bifida/special needs children. <br />
<br />
I have finally decided to take the scary plunge into my own photography business (this is the climb, to success). I tried once and failed, but now, I have grown, I have studied, I have practiced and I have a plan (and the kids are older and will all be in school). I still wanted to give back and I have been thinking and praying on how I should or even could. I am not sure why I didn't see it before, but now, I do. <br />
<br />
Fiddlesticks Photography will give back in a big, big way. Along with photoshoots and offering accessories Fiddlesticks wants all the special needs families to know they deserve quality, wall worthy photos too! So that is where giving back comes in. We want to offer free or low cost shoots to families with children that have special needs. We understand that is a broad description but even "invisible" disabilities are financially draining. I haven't completely decided how I will give the shoots, I want to try and do 2-4 a month. I may do something that allows people to nominate families and have my facebook fans vote. I am not sure. This is where I need your help. I need your suggestions, your input, you thoughts. How can I make this successful? How can I help these families? Would you want something like this? (I sure know I would have loved to have this when G was young). <br />
<br />
You can visit my FB page <a href="https://www.facebook.com/fiddlesticksboutiqueandphotography?focus_composer=true&ref_type=bookmark">here</a> (I haven't said anything on there yet, but I suppose I have to let the cat out of the bag sooner rather than later) <br />
Don't be shy, I really want to know what you think! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aFnMwVHCips/U8U-YAPcn4I/AAAAAAAAA4M/wMqUp_OQ-D0/s1600/aver1bwwatermarked.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aFnMwVHCips/U8U-YAPcn4I/AAAAAAAAA4M/wMqUp_OQ-D0/s320/aver1bwwatermarked.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sevet3QGIhc/U8U-zGK9bpI/AAAAAAAAA4k/RvrdhCCGA6U/s1600/averybooks1watermarked.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sevet3QGIhc/U8U-zGK9bpI/AAAAAAAAA4k/RvrdhCCGA6U/s320/averybooks1watermarked.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYSAIl5mxbs/U8U-wXIxvHI/AAAAAAAAA4c/kMMSM7MpmIM/s1600/gavin1watermarked.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYSAIl5mxbs/U8U-wXIxvHI/AAAAAAAAA4c/kMMSM7MpmIM/s320/gavin1watermarked.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V6VOKeclhRA/U8U-rrl-1_I/AAAAAAAAA4U/NZwodDLtEwY/s1600/gdarthbwwatermarked.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V6VOKeclhRA/U8U-rrl-1_I/AAAAAAAAA4U/NZwodDLtEwY/s320/gdarthbwwatermarked.JPG" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-12210136003098494432014-05-20T12:59:00.000-04:002014-05-20T12:59:58.378-04:00Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. I grew up with that mantra. <br />
It is true, to an extent. <br />
<br />
*disclaimer: I am about to rant on a touchy, touchy subject; Bullying. This may get long so stick with me. This is raw, this is real. I believe <b><i>TRUE</i></b> bullying, as in someone making a persons life so miserable that they chose to take their own life or someone elses is a terrible thing and it should be dealt with accordingly.*<br />
<br />
This has been a long time coming, these are my own thoughts, my own opinions and I am entitled to them as much as you are, I understand that there may be some anger, some disagreement and that is ok,I understand I am publicly posting this which allows you to post/comment your own opinion, diversity is a good thing in many cases it causes people to work together and find common ground. This came about because of several situations with my daughter in which she has said "there are bullies at school" and when asked to define what a bully is giving answers like "people that hurt my feelings", "people that don't like me" "people that tease me", "People that don't invite me to their birthday party" etc... All things she is being taught in school. She cannot hide from mean people, different people, people that dislike her, her entire life. She must learn young how to properly deal with these people and the emotions that come with it, not hide behind a broad label such as "bullying". <br />
<br />
I grew up in the 80's and 90's, I moved smack in the middle of my 4th grade year. Everything was awesome and exciting until my 5th grade year. I spoke fast with a unique southern drawl. I still lived in the south (Virginia) when I moved but my accent made my English almost foreign to the people here. I had to learn to slow down and enunciate. I made friends quickly my 5th grade year (another new school after our move, again) some of which I still talk to. I apparently made a lot of enemies, I was an easy target I suppose, tall and skinny frizzy overly permed hair freckles and skin a shade lighter than Casper the friendly ghost (I got called that often). I was a walking target. Sometimes it was hard all I wanted was to fit in, I just wanted everyone to be happy and like me. I didn't understand even in my fragile teenage years that it was just not possible to be truly liked by everyone. It was rough, I was called names, I was ridiculed and embarrassed in front of the entire class on several occasions. I wasn't a spoiled child, I had everything I needed and quickly learned you do not get everything you want, even if you work hard sometimes it just isn't possible (it isn't a bad thing). One day (I believe it may have been the turning point for me) I was riding the bus home. I had BEGGED for some timberland boots and my Father obliged. On this particular day I had to wear tennis shoes for P.E. and it was close to the end of the day so I wore my sneakers home and carried my boots. The bus went up a hill and my boots slid to the back of the bus, I was taunted by the kids in the back of the bus that they had my boots (I don't even recall their names) I asked for them back and then it happened, they threw them out the window. I was crushed for several reasons. For one I <i>thought</i> those boots would make me accepted, for two, I understood what getting those boots meant, it meant my parents took some of their hard earned money and bought something for me that was by no means a need and last but not least how on Earth could people be so mean? HOW!????? <br />
<br />
Fast Forward from that very moment. I became a bully (not this petty picking crap that people cry bully about now, I am talking full fledged mean person, hateful, ugly, nasty person) <br />
<br />
I began fighting, rebelling, being ugly, calling people names for no reason simply just anger. <br />
<br />
My Senior Year of High School My Best Friend and I sat in her Mother's Van and I decided the next freshman to pull into the parking lot would be my target. Poor Girl. Her name was Brooke, I was so mean to her. I truly BULLIED her her life was probably a living hell day and night because this wasn't just at school this was in public no matter where I saw her. I chased her once on the Avenue, her eyes full of fear and ducked her pretty brown curly haired head down in the seat likely praying I would go away. I owe her an apology and even that will not give her what was supposed to be one of the best years of her life back. I regret it, I am a different person now.<br />
<br />
When I was in school there were fights (it is bound to happen you have 400-1000 people with whacked out hormones and popularity on the line). When I say fights I mean vicious fights. One year one girl stomped another girls face with her cleats. (at least that is the story that went around). Can you even fathom what would happen if that happened in the schools today!????<br />
<br />
Now- What I am about to say comes from me, I have been the Victim and the Bully I am the Mother of 3 children One of which has had moments of being what you would call a bully in todays world but has also had moments of being the victim, one that has had this picture of what bullies are embedded into her brain and cries bully in almost every scenario and then one that is likely going to be a victim of bullying simply because of his physical appearance ('handicap' though I don't really like to use that word with him, it is true). <br />
<br />
WHY- why are we teaching our children to cry BULLYING constantly? <br />
<br />
Let me explain:<br />
<br />
From the governments bullying link: <a href="http://www.stopbullying.gov/what-is-bullying/definition/">(here)</a><br />
<br />
Types of Bullying <br />
<br />
<br />
There are three types of bullying:<br />
<br />
<b>Verbal bullying is saying or writing mean things. Verbal bullying includes:</b><br />
Teasing<br />
Name-calling<br />
Inappropriate sexual comments<br />
Taunting<br />
Threatening to cause harm<br />
<b>Social bullying, sometimes referred to as relational bullying, involves hurting someone’s reputation or relationships. Social bullying includes:</b><br />
Leaving someone out on purpose<br />
Telling other children not to be friends with someone<br />
Spreading rumors about someone<br />
Embarrassing someone in public<br />
<b>Physical bullying involves hurting a person’s body or possessions. Physical bullying includes:</b><br />
Hitting/kicking/pinching<br />
Spitting<br />
Tripping/pushing<br />
Taking or breaking someone’s things<br />
Making mean or rude hand gestures<br />
<br />
<br />
Those are all fairly broad and in a lot of those things listed I can honestly say they happen to me daily or at the very least monthly.<br />
<b>Teasing</b>? Honestly? perhaps this is not the word they wanted to use? <br />
<br />
the definition of Tease<br />
tease<br />
tēz<br />
verb<br />
gerund or present participle: teasing<br />
1.<br />
make fun of or attempt to provoke (a person or animal)<b> in a playful way.<i></i></b><br />
<br />
The key word in the definition is playful. My family and I tease each other a lot I tease the kids my husband and I joke around with each other, it is playful interaction. The only time teasing could ever cross the line into "bullying" would be if it were to intentionally hurt someones feelings, and be repetitive. <br />
<br />
<b>Name calling.</b> I agree, we shouldn't call each other derogatory names, it isn't nice, play nice. But this sort of ties in with teasing on this next example:<br />
In the 6th grade (i think) We had D.A.R.E, we were given a white piece of paper to write our names on so our officer could address us by name. I scribbled mine out quickly H E A T E R. Heater. I freaking wrote Heater. It was quickly called out and for, well, forever people still pick and call me Heater. That teacher, to this day when he sees me calls me Heater. So fast forward a lot of years (more years than I care to count) and my middle child is in kindergarten. She is asked to write her name on something or another at school and she probably hastily writes it: A V E R. Aver, she forgot the Y (obviously it runs in the family) so for the better part of a week the children called her Aver, chanting Aver, Aver. She comes home and says "there are bullies at school, I don't want to go to school, they are mean." I ask why, she tells the story, I giggle a little because lo and behold I have a story to share with her. It didn't help, why didn't it help? Because she tells me that "that is bullying and her school had people teach her about bullies and she should not have to deal with bullies" <br />
<br />
<b>Leaving someone out on purpose</b>. <br />
I have a really hard time with this. It is ok not to get along with someone. Not everyone gets along, my daughter should not have to invite everyone in her kindergarten class to her birthday just so she "doesn't leave anyone out". Why are we teaching our children this? Why are we making them "hang out" with people that the mutual feeling is, we don't get along? You shouldn't hate that person, you shouldn't be ugly to that person you should be cordial and kind but if she wants to play with her best friend on the playground and doesn't ask billy bob to come play because they just clash, is that bullying?<br />
<br />
The rest I can agree to as they should be general rules to follow in all walks of life but to classify ALL of them as bullying?????????<br />
<br />
"Bully" the word is losing its meaning. It is becoming much broader than it should to appease a large quantity of people. Kind of like the word Love, I am guilty of it too, I love asparagus, I love photography, I love ... (I used to say I "love" something when I was a kid and my mom would say "are you going to marry it?" I get it now, we overuse a powerful word and it loses its luster) <br />
<br />
We live and learn, our Youth is learning right now. I agree a child should not fear their safety at all, all children should be able to wake up and get ready to go to school without worrying about if they will be physically or truly emotionally harmed.<br />
But here's the thing about emotions: As children and teenagers we are still figuring things out. People will dislike you, crushes will turn you down, boy/girlfriends will break up, people will let their mouths say things they think without thinking it through all of these things cause emotions. Our children need to learn how to deal with emotions. These are the same emotions they will deal with as adults and if we do not teach them now how to rise above these things they will never make it. <br />
<br />
<br />
Our children have to be able to function in society. Can you imagine the police calls for bullying when this generation is of age? The current generation is being raised to become entitled, emotionally unstable, unable to function adults. Our children are our future. <br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-63324124881476932022014-05-06T12:02:00.002-04:002014-05-06T12:13:42.784-04:00FIVE and possibly a picture overload.I am writing this early because I know I will get busy and the emotion is already there so that is when I do my best writing. On Sunday Gavin will be 5.<br />
<br />
I read a post recently about a father of 2. He talked about how the second child's firsts weren't as amazing as the first's because he had already seen that done and he decided to make a list of lasts because these were moments he would only experience one last time.<br />
<br />
I think Moms and Dads are wired differently, in fact, I know they are. I was just as ecstatic for Walker's first steps as I was for Avery's and of course I was elated <a href="http://ramblingsofamotherof3.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-can-do-all-things-through-christ-who.html">when Gavin took his</a> . However, my LAST baby is turning 5...FIVE as in half a decade, where did the time go, kindergarten next year, holy cow slow down, FIVE. (Walker just turned 13, don't even get me started on the 13, thirteen as in holy cow 3 years and he will drive, 5 and he's an adult, stop growing you're already taller than me, 13.)<br />
<br />
<br />
Five. In the past five years I've lived a lot of bittersweet lasts. I will never have them again, never. <a href="http://ramblingsofamotherof3.blogspot.com/2011/05/time-happy-2nd-birthday-gavin.html">Why oh why does time go so very fast</a>. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.sheknows.com/baby-names/name/gavin">Gavin</a>, 'white hawk of battle'. So he was. Born a toe head and battled his wars. He's still fighting and he's winning. His name fits.<br />
<br />
It doesn't seem as though five years has passed. May 11th 2009 I certainly didn't see today as coming as fast as it has. But it's here, I cannot stop it. As much as I want to pause, I cannot. </div><br />
Gavin: Determined, strong, fighter, adorable, mischievous, flirt, happy, blue eyed, farmers tan, t-ball player, iPad guru, hard headed (wonder where he gets that), miracle, independent (I have to admit there was a lump in my throat when I typed that), five years old, FIVE.<br />
<br />
You all know about Gavin. To sum it up without being completely redundant. Gavin was born with spina bifida, hydrocephalus and Arnold Chiari Malformation II. He spent almost 1 month in the NICU at chippenham and had 2 surgeries (on closure and one shunt placement). We were told Gavin would likely have a poor quality of life, that he probably wouldn't walk and the best option for the child was abortion. <br />
<br />
May 2009<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u8dyinl4t1E/U2kByYDwWeI/AAAAAAAAAwk/YPrk53j_WlM/s1600/gavin2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u8dyinl4t1E/U2kByYDwWeI/AAAAAAAAAwk/YPrk53j_WlM/s320/gavin2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JbLLE1fHbk4/U2kB4Nv-zjI/AAAAAAAAAw0/XCeKT-Ls6WQ/s1600/gavin4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JbLLE1fHbk4/U2kB4Nv-zjI/AAAAAAAAAw0/XCeKT-Ls6WQ/s320/gavin4.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9tIO1xNPVw/U2kB4mg_8UI/AAAAAAAAAw4/YNXbh4fOdD4/s1600/gavin5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9tIO1xNPVw/U2kB4mg_8UI/AAAAAAAAAw4/YNXbh4fOdD4/s320/gavin5.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXESm4pxkwI/U2kB48rhq1I/AAAAAAAAAxA/yHAVq4qJyNM/s1600/gavin6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXESm4pxkwI/U2kB48rhq1I/AAAAAAAAAxA/yHAVq4qJyNM/s320/gavin6.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GzCdqIbWqco/U2kB4QpfCEI/AAAAAAAAAww/_s57hdD_k0Y/s1600/gavin10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GzCdqIbWqco/U2kB4QpfCEI/AAAAAAAAAww/_s57hdD_k0Y/s320/gavin10.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9D5fIQ-F5gQ/U2kB4FeDirI/AAAAAAAAAws/PsPAIuwGRQ0/s1600/gavin11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9D5fIQ-F5gQ/U2kB4FeDirI/AAAAAAAAAws/PsPAIuwGRQ0/s320/gavin11.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Finally home where he belongs!<br />
<br />
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This picture means so much to me. I don't know how many of you know this but Gavin literally cried all day (and a lot of nights) for the better part of 4-6 months. This chair he sat in I would put my foot on it and bounce him all day. It was the only way he would be happy unless he was eating. I look at this and see that smile and all those months of sobbing (he and I both) fade away. All it took was one picture, one moment to erase all of that. <br />
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boom boom fire power<br />
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I love this picture of him, however, that day I was thrust into the world of people not understanding 'special needs'. The photographer kept asking how old he was and wanted him to stand she didn't understand that he couldn't and was like I will put a block up there, lady.he.can.not.stand.yet. anyway the picture is adorable. <br />
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His first Birthday. He had serious texture issues and would not eat much of anything. I actually had to smash the cake into his face to even get a picture of him with icing on his face. He was less than thrilled. <br />
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his nemesis, the ice cream cone.<br />
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we should probably stick to a bowl and spoon.<br />
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photos he will hate me for one day.<br />
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Random photos in no particular order.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ocodK4RD_JI/U2kFxTZiMsI/AAAAAAAAAzg/MZvwCRVSJsc/s1600/gavin24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ocodK4RD_JI/U2kFxTZiMsI/AAAAAAAAAzg/MZvwCRVSJsc/s320/gavin24.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FtTY3gj5GCs/U2kFxbIkzdI/AAAAAAAAAzo/tmPFhBFuKb4/s1600/gavin26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FtTY3gj5GCs/U2kFxbIkzdI/AAAAAAAAAzo/tmPFhBFuKb4/s320/gavin26.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vj8ISbKVVGo/U2kFxSMOznI/AAAAAAAAAzk/AqC0-CekjsA/s1600/gavin27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vj8ISbKVVGo/U2kFxSMOznI/AAAAAAAAAzk/AqC0-CekjsA/s320/gavin27.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SKKeCkGuY4k/U2kFx0C7JpI/AAAAAAAAAzs/RKuCE3ytcG8/s1600/gavin28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SKKeCkGuY4k/U2kFx0C7JpI/AAAAAAAAAzs/RKuCE3ytcG8/s320/gavin28.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8sHmHCg-TYk/U2kFyJXEhGI/AAAAAAAAAzw/njeehQvhm4M/s1600/gavin29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8sHmHCg-TYk/U2kFyJXEhGI/AAAAAAAAAzw/njeehQvhm4M/s320/gavin29.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kPcE4o8dibI/U2kFyUHCwiI/AAAAAAAAAz0/zevjD5dUreo/s1600/gavin30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kPcE4o8dibI/U2kFyUHCwiI/AAAAAAAAAz0/zevjD5dUreo/s320/gavin30.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_BUqBg7ATWQ/U2kFyrlfFQI/AAAAAAAAAz4/n22p_pxRYjg/s1600/gavin31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_BUqBg7ATWQ/U2kFyrlfFQI/AAAAAAAAAz4/n22p_pxRYjg/s320/gavin31.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VaWLPtRLaTw/U2kFy8-3vBI/AAAAAAAAAz8/JUGue1pD5gw/s1600/gavin33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VaWLPtRLaTw/U2kFy8-3vBI/AAAAAAAAAz8/JUGue1pD5gw/s320/gavin33.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wLpVA7sZ7yw/U2kFy9cqiqI/AAAAAAAAA0A/W1O8UjzQFxM/s1600/gavin34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wLpVA7sZ7yw/U2kFy9cqiqI/AAAAAAAAA0A/W1O8UjzQFxM/s320/gavin34.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FOBHZlvMscs/U2kFzIXKx4I/AAAAAAAAA0E/doPc5X3G4Kk/s1600/gavin35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FOBHZlvMscs/U2kFzIXKx4I/AAAAAAAAA0E/doPc5X3G4Kk/s320/gavin35.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QgXsd5CneS0/U2kFzX6dMlI/AAAAAAAAA0M/lv_LuSRMoZs/s1600/gavin37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QgXsd5CneS0/U2kFzX6dMlI/AAAAAAAAA0M/lv_LuSRMoZs/s320/gavin37.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ljRxNvt7RGQ/U2kFzmQOUCI/AAAAAAAAA0U/DnF6PzoSb5I/s1600/gavin38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ljRxNvt7RGQ/U2kFzmQOUCI/AAAAAAAAA0U/DnF6PzoSb5I/s320/gavin38.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZKCSjkJe-I/U2kFzxGQ1GI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/C9UYfalsry8/s1600/gavin40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZKCSjkJe-I/U2kFzxGQ1GI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/C9UYfalsry8/s320/gavin40.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3w623zqZSfA/U2kF0DyuAPI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/GouFq5XnK3c/s1600/gavin41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3w623zqZSfA/U2kF0DyuAPI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/GouFq5XnK3c/s320/gavin41.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I-0_T4mDVpQ/U2kF0bdpbeI/AAAAAAAAA0c/ABNWGDBJ29M/s1600/gavin42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I-0_T4mDVpQ/U2kF0bdpbeI/AAAAAAAAA0c/ABNWGDBJ29M/s320/gavin42.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-obBMkTCVS30/U2kF0rmFluI/AAAAAAAAA0g/iFdp1i4Vu1A/s1600/gavin44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-obBMkTCVS30/U2kF0rmFluI/AAAAAAAAA0g/iFdp1i4Vu1A/s320/gavin44.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OA0GYx2j2vg/U2kF0gYE7LI/AAAAAAAAA0k/7YNatefhclk/s1600/gavin45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OA0GYx2j2vg/U2kF0gYE7LI/AAAAAAAAA0k/7YNatefhclk/s320/gavin45.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mNCG4W531K4/U2kF06uYHPI/AAAAAAAAA0o/cKDDFv3J-Z8/s1600/gavin46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mNCG4W531K4/U2kF06uYHPI/AAAAAAAAA0o/cKDDFv3J-Z8/s320/gavin46.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M9Mba5PvYEc/U2kF1BmTtSI/AAAAAAAAA0s/Mv9Nnl_oNbE/s1600/gavin48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M9Mba5PvYEc/U2kF1BmTtSI/AAAAAAAAA0s/Mv9Nnl_oNbE/s320/gavin48.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSvqAZmHCNI/U2kF1UTSF-I/AAAAAAAAA0w/muBU6mqmuyA/s1600/gavin52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSvqAZmHCNI/U2kF1UTSF-I/AAAAAAAAA0w/muBU6mqmuyA/s320/gavin52.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6tQQF06HRW8/U2kF1uTyLMI/AAAAAAAAA00/r6N8wxYWpKk/s1600/gavin53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6tQQF06HRW8/U2kF1uTyLMI/AAAAAAAAA00/r6N8wxYWpKk/s320/gavin53.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pFeZ301bqkM/U2kF1yCvM0I/AAAAAAAAA04/XOR7l2z6n8I/s1600/gavin54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pFeZ301bqkM/U2kF1yCvM0I/AAAAAAAAA04/XOR7l2z6n8I/s320/gavin54.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4P3tMZHwkMg/U2kF2Qt7GuI/AAAAAAAAA1A/zW6ULy8f-6Q/s1600/gavin55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4P3tMZHwkMg/U2kF2Qt7GuI/AAAAAAAAA1A/zW6ULy8f-6Q/s320/gavin55.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Just because this is so Gavin.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OxuJb6YspiA/U2kGUeAtf0I/AAAAAAAAA2U/rDDEV6uDzmI/s1600/gavin47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OxuJb6YspiA/U2kGUeAtf0I/AAAAAAAAA2U/rDDEV6uDzmI/s320/gavin47.jpg" /></a></div><br />
so happy birthday Gman. We love you so very much and are so VERY VERY proud of you. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-84884906059654014442014-05-06T10:29:00.001-04:002014-05-06T10:30:03.332-04:00Happy Anniversary!!!!Today is my parents 36th anniversary. Their story is a story of true love. It started a little something like this:<br />
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Sometime in the mid 70's my Uncle Tim (Dad's older brother) turned 18 So Greg and Nancy (Nanny and Pawt) moved to N.C. I am guessing sort of like 'ok kid, you're 18 welcome to the real world'. Tim stayed in VA and Dad went to N.C. with his parents. I can only imagine how devastating it must have been to move in the peak of your teenage life leaving everything you know behind but Dad was no stranger to moving (I want to say he had moved 13 times but that could be wrong). So they settle in Conover N.C.. Little did Dad know what would happen. He would meet a gorgeous, flip flop wearing woman (apparently her flip flops made a clacking sound and he knew she was coming down the hall in school, at least that is what I remember of the story). Grandaddy called Dad bozo apparently he didn't appreciate Dad's coif *I wish I had a picture to insert here but I think Dad may have burned them all.* and I don't think Mamaw liked him very much but in her defense he was dating her baby (as in youngest) girl. <br />
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Dad Graduated (and I am almost positive Nanny and Pawt moved back to VA 'Good luck kid, happy 18th birthday' It may sound harsh to you but it's how we roll and honestly if we parented like that generation we would likely have a lot less problems in this world ) and Mom Graduated a year later. May 6th 1978 they were married. (I'm positive Dad picked the date because who could ever forget 5678!?)<br />
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Awwwww<br />
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I am sure that the photographer chose this pose but you can't help but wonder is he thinking of jumping? Is he watching over the car to scare away anyone with shaving cream? Is he just simply praying for it all to be over!? (of course he really is thinking this is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!) <br />
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The look on my Mother's face in this picture makes me smile. <br />
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They went on their honeymoon in Myrtle Beach and mom got horrible sunburn on the back of her knees. <br />
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Let's fast forward to the best part. Just over one year later the most amazing little girl was born.... ME (duh!) I was so awesome that they wanted another one so three years later my sister. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ip4XD_F-K0c/U2jq-coepTI/AAAAAAAAAwI/O8p_pJzXiFk/s1600/27025_113752361979253_4119904_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ip4XD_F-K0c/U2jq-coepTI/AAAAAAAAAwI/O8p_pJzXiFk/s320/27025_113752361979253_4119904_n.jpg" /></a></div><br />
How cute are we!?<br />
<br />
I don't ever remember my parents fighting. Like seriously never. I am sure they did argue but it was never in front of us and you could never ever tell there was turmoil. We had a great life, we really did. In my 4th grade year something happened in the house and Dad said 'That is it, we are moving to VA'. Mom may have been sad and upset but if she was she never once disputed in front of us. She would follow Daddy wherever he went. Dad went ahead of us to VA I don't recall how long it was but it seemed like an eternity. He would land a job as the VP of Vector Industries in Waynesboro. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2FjViyviro/U2jr9jzemcI/AAAAAAAAAwU/k6RP-j4BYX4/s1600/894592_755218351165981_1322958032249682822_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2FjViyviro/U2jr9jzemcI/AAAAAAAAAwU/k6RP-j4BYX4/s320/894592_755218351165981_1322958032249682822_o.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Handsome, huh!? That is the picture that ran in the paper (and that was like the one year my Dad forced his reluctant eyeballs to wear contacts.) <br />
<br />
We (mom and us girls) packed up and moved to a 2 bedroom apartment in Waynesboro. We stayed there a short while and Dad bought a house in Staunton. Dad was excited but he obviously knew Mom was going to be less than thrilled because when he took us to see what he had bought he drove us by a 'mansion' first and all the nice houses on the street before parallel parking in front of a dingy yellowish tan falling down stucco house. I am positive Mom cried. She was happy just being his though so I don't recall any arguments over it. We entered the house to find that all the fireplaces were covered with drywall and the drywall was falling down. There was wall paper with presidents on it in one room and the kitchen was orange and by orange I mean BLAZE orange. My Dad worked all summer in that house so that we could move in and be comfortable. The house now is amazing, it was in a published book too! <br />
In the early 90's Mom found out she was pregnant I was going to be 14 years OLDER than my youngest sibling. Along comes Ashton. I still call him Ashton but the rest of the world calls him Greg (and they have since like his 2nd grade year). The first boy born in the Humphries family in over 30 years. (talk about being born with a weight on your shoulders!) <br />
<br />
Anyway. <br />
<br />
I look at my parents, I see how they care for each other, how they truly love each other and think that everyone should have love like that. I am not saying it was all easy, I am sure it wasn't. I realize that love is a choice that you make every single day. I am sure there were times it would have been easy to throw in the towel, but they never did. I felt weird going through school because the majority of the kids in my school were of divorced families (not all but a lot). <br />
My parents have been through so much together, they have laughed together and cried together. They have shared literally everything in their life. They make it look so easy. The combo of Mom being a God fearing, loving, caring (like literally 'give you whatever I have if you need it' type of caring), loyal woman and Dad being God fearing, compassionate, strong, loving man makes their marriage work. <br />
<br />
I wish you both a very very happy anniversary and pray for many, many, many more. I hope you both know what an amazing inspiration you are to all 3 of your children. I hope you realize that you did the most amazing job of teaching us what a marriage is, what love looks like and how it can work as long as you work together and trust in God first and foremost. <br />
<br />
Love you both so very, very much. <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-74968689892727194752014-05-05T13:21:00.001-04:002014-05-05T13:26:44.091-04:00A tale of the Kamikaze mocking bird... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cq2rOXH5Qao/U2fGN0Vno-I/AAAAAAAAAvI/NnG-iTE-wc8/s1600/mockingbird1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cq2rOXH5Qao/U2fGN0Vno-I/AAAAAAAAAvI/NnG-iTE-wc8/s320/mockingbird1.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Birds, I love birds. I have memories of watching birds as a child with my Grandaddy. We would watch and listen and find out what kind of birds they were. It has stuck with me through the years, I enjoy it. The kids and I <a href="http://ramblingsofamotherof3.blogspot.com/2014/03/pinterest-succeed-or-fail-bird-feeders.html">feed the birds</a> too. <br />
<br />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/XHrRxQVUFN4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SoZl0y7nNbw/U2fE3-EJg4I/AAAAAAAAAu8/6PwHSslWTxc/s1600/mockingbirdflying.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SoZl0y7nNbw/U2fE3-EJg4I/AAAAAAAAAu8/6PwHSslWTxc/s320/mockingbirdflying.JPG" /></a></div>an innocent bird just flying about, little did I know what was to come. <br />
<br />
The birds have been feeding all year off of our feeders. The mocking birds are mean to the other birds and I often shoo them off. <br />
Last year a mocking bird landed on the roof every.single.morning. and mimicked a car alarm as if he was casting to be a minion in 'Despicable Me 2'<br />
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<iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/kzrWkjS5etE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
Anyway, this year they are mimicking Jake's "please let me back in whine", it's annoying, amazing but extremely annoying!<br />
Mocking birds apparently were a hot item back in the day, before technology ruined them with its sound. They were captured and sold because of their beautiful song repertoire. <br />
In 'To Kill A Mockingbird' Miss Maudie says 'Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.' <br />
She forgets to tell you that they try to eat your eyeballs when protecting their young/nest.<br />
So these birds that I have been feeding and caring for have made a nest in my holly bush by the garage. This weekend I innocently went to throw a limb by the garage and out of no where a bird ninja comes flying after my head screeching like I had just killed one of his babies wings spread feet stuck out for perfect clawing of the skull beak ready to eat my eyeballs out. I screamed and walked away still unsure of what on earth had just transpired, later, the oldest and the youngest were outside and apparently Gavin got a little close and the bird started to attack him and pull his hair out! I have since been attacked 7 times, Jason 4 and poor Jake! I can barely leave Jake out by his dog house because the bird is pecking him in the head and butt for fear he is after their babies. So Day in and Day out these birds are staking out the yard they perch on the roof of the garage, the roof of the house and on the swing set just waiting for someone (or another bird) to enter THEIR territory. <br />
<br />
I broke down the anatomy of the mocking bird for you (yes I spelled Kamikaze wrong, yes I am sorry, no I am not changing it)you may have to click it so you can read it. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BHh1Tmed42E/U2fHB4EHsYI/AAAAAAAAAvU/I31ravv-06k/s1600/mockingbirdwords.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BHh1Tmed42E/U2fHB4EHsYI/AAAAAAAAAvU/I31ravv-06k/s640/mockingbirdwords.JPG" /></a></div><br />
in short, Mockingbirds are Jerks. They are like the bully of the bird world. If you see a mockingbird making a nest in one of your bushes you may want to consider knocking it down before she can lay her eggs (calm down the male bird makes several nests and the female chooses which is the best for their little family). Unless of course you like to have bald spots and corneal abrasions. <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-31916251491777766952014-04-07T10:05:00.001-04:002014-04-07T10:16:04.643-04:00Pinterest: succeed or fail. Keeping bathroom mirrors from fogging 1
simple step. Success!<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The pin:</span></div>
<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_wqLw1XQOrc/U0KyXG6MVgI/AAAAAAAAAuc/wtJfw5__5go/s640/blogger-image--222976776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_wqLw1XQOrc/U0KyXG6MVgI/AAAAAAAAAuc/wtJfw5__5go/s640/blogger-image--222976776.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So the claim is, if you put soap on your mirror and buff it out with a cloth the mirror won't fog when you shower.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So I put soap on the mirror. I thought I was going to regret this because of the amount of elbow grease I assumed it would take to buff the soap off. I was plesantly surprised! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_6bx7bARByA/U0KyYLv0TnI/AAAAAAAAAuk/isXfkntrmdk/s640/blogger-image--692466959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_6bx7bARByA/U0KyYLv0TnI/AAAAAAAAAuk/isXfkntrmdk/s640/blogger-image--692466959.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I didn't use a lot. We use the cranberry dial, if it matters. ( yes my iPad cover is covered in stickers, I live with an itty bitty army that like to embellish things)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It only took me 3 minutes to buff the mirror clean (if that) </div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I turned the shower on just hot water, shut the door and walked away for 20 minutes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When I came back I was plesantly surprised! The picture is hazy because the bathroom was foggy but the mirror was crystal clear and ready for hair, makeup or shaving to commence without having to wipe it a million times with a towel. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Gkr0SWrfYVs/U0KyZGd7p-I/AAAAAAAAAus/b0KQeAbtHKA/s640/blogger-image-1908794718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Gkr0SWrfYVs/U0KyZGd7p-I/AAAAAAAAAus/b0KQeAbtHKA/s640/blogger-image-1908794718.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So SUCCESS! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The link: </div>http://www.creeklinehouse.com/2013/12/how-to-keep-your-bathroom-mirror-fog.html</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-84998443517598094912014-03-30T18:31:00.001-04:002014-03-30T18:35:09.608-04:00Pinterest: succeed or fail. Nail polish flowers.<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So I've been watching this pin. It looks so simple and the finished product is amazingly adorable. I wanted to try because how cute would it be as a photo-prop head piece on a baby girl!? </span></div><div><br></div><div>The pin:</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-CgGSeVEQwQg/UzibGKAkX8I/AAAAAAAAAtk/53SCMpwOFI0/s640/blogger-image-1166316216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-CgGSeVEQwQg/UzibGKAkX8I/AAAAAAAAAtk/53SCMpwOFI0/s640/blogger-image-1166316216.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-R3EuoZpqOU8/UzibJNQNgZI/AAAAAAAAAuE/25mr_2TZRyM/s640/blogger-image-1198155265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-R3EuoZpqOU8/UzibJNQNgZI/AAAAAAAAAuE/25mr_2TZRyM/s640/blogger-image-1198155265.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So it looks simple enough and I used some scrap wire I had left over because I didn't want to waste money if it didn't work. I had my doubts, I felt like the nail polish wouldn't cover the whole petal and I'd be left with painted wire skeletons of flowers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Was I ever wrong!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's as simple as it shows, make your flower. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1eFFpHC9q30/UzibJ05ElgI/AAAAAAAAAuM/MjncIpIMe_M/s640/blogger-image--1074527809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1eFFpHC9q30/UzibJ05ElgI/AAAAAAAAAuM/MjncIpIMe_M/s640/blogger-image--1074527809.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">My wire is a tad thicker than what I wanted to use so when I go to make the head piece I'll go with a thinner wire. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Pick your polish and paint each petal, the first swipe didn't work on 2 petals but the second it went right on. No problem! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-O0I9dbu8OjU/UzibG-HInPI/AAAAAAAAAts/ZyQ0s6RlwSI/s640/blogger-image-414116522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-O0I9dbu8OjU/UzibG-HInPI/AAAAAAAAAts/ZyQ0s6RlwSI/s640/blogger-image-414116522.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then I thought, there's no way the polish won't be extremely fragile....but guess what!? When it dried it's much tougher than I had expected! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I will shape my flowers better for the head piece. I thought I took a picture of the polish brand, if it matters, it's Sally Hensen. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-06EyANn-CtI/UzibIV_UrxI/AAAAAAAAAt8/ow_1vSlPWOs/s640/blogger-image--1727434390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-06EyANn-CtI/UzibIV_UrxI/AAAAAAAAAt8/ow_1vSlPWOs/s640/blogger-image--1727434390.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-C_FFUlyKKtU/UzibHlqEIiI/AAAAAAAAAt0/EDhZ0ouWW04/s640/blogger-image--666605800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-C_FFUlyKKtU/UzibHlqEIiI/AAAAAAAAAt0/EDhZ0ouWW04/s640/blogger-image--666605800.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Here's the original link:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">http://justbeccaz.tumblr.com/post/75654680180/clarainamillionpieces-lions-teeth</p></div><br></div><br></div></div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-17828940505998658702014-03-23T20:19:00.001-04:002014-03-23T20:22:11.185-04:00Pinterest: succeed or fail. Bird feeders.<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So I was thinking as I was pinning away on Pinterest about how many pins I have and how little I've tried. For the most part I don't try them because I'm scared they are big fat fails and I'll sulk in the corner for hours because my craft didn't look like the Pinterest pic. So now, for you, every Sunday or Monday I will post a 'Pinterest: succeed or Fail' post. </span></div><div><br />
</div><div>This weekends was bird feeders. All 3 kids got involved. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Here's the pin:</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iPFRQSOfirA/Uy96DimVBXI/AAAAAAAAAtM/9t7c8VTOUM8/s640/blogger-image-1840018304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iPFRQSOfirA/Uy96DimVBXI/AAAAAAAAAtM/9t7c8VTOUM8/s640/blogger-image-1840018304.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">*See link at bottom of post for original pin/blog link*</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So it seems simple enough, 1/4 cup water for each envelope of gelatin you want to use, 3/4 cup birdseed, wax paper and cookie cutters. What can go wrong!? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We buy suet a lot and the birds love love peanut butter so I broke the rules before I even started. (Not that it should be a huge shock for you or anything) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Batch one: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I used 1/4 cup water, 1 envelope gelatin dissolved it as the blog suggested, added birdseed. The blog states that if there's still liquid in the pan to add more bird seed, I had to. In actuality I ended up using somewhere around 1 - 1 1/2 cups bird seed, but I suggest starting with the 3/4 cup and adding as you see fit. Then I added a HEAPING tablespoon (not a measuring spoon, a normal eating tablespoon) while it was still hot, mixed it up, let it cool. The two youngest did theirs first with the peanut butter mix. The oldest ended up with half peanut butter mix and half per the instructions mix. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The second batch I did per instructions above. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Here they are cooling in their cookie cutters: the star (white) and big red heart are first batch. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mVHEGq3T-yM/Uy96ESsJv8I/AAAAAAAAAtU/AVVOoV6W8cY/s640/blogger-image-179078335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mVHEGq3T-yM/Uy96ESsJv8I/AAAAAAAAAtU/AVVOoV6W8cY/s640/blogger-image-179078335.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The ones I used peanut butter in set up faster and tighter, they did exactly how I expected the original to do. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The second batch- per the instructions, ended up taking longer to set, and were much looser, we had some rain today and it knocked a lot of the seeds off of those. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This one is G's it is the peanut butter mix</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ueLRUSFH6PY/Uy96Bnmp3bI/AAAAAAAAAs8/pvzzZvLUFvk/s640/blogger-image-1154423407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ueLRUSFH6PY/Uy96Bnmp3bI/AAAAAAAAAs8/pvzzZvLUFvk/s640/blogger-image-1154423407.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This one below is W's, it was made with half of each, I tried to take a picture of the 'bad' side</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Q2cQ6VzCmH4/Uy96CtFsuBI/AAAAAAAAAtE/sRO--ea77ow/s640/blogger-image--1986949411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Q2cQ6VzCmH4/Uy96CtFsuBI/AAAAAAAAAtE/sRO--ea77ow/s640/blogger-image--1986949411.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So after all is said and done this isn't exactly a fail. The peanut butter mix was much better so I'll be re-pinning with my peanut butter suggestion. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What you need:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1/4 cup water</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3/4-1 1/2 cup birdseed</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 heaping tablespoon of peanut butter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Cookie cutters</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Wax paper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Yarn</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What you do:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Mix gelatin in 1/4 water and simmer stirring constantly until gelatin is dissolved, this doesn't take long. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Add 3/4 cup birdseed mix well, if liquid is left in pan still add 1/4 cup more at a time until there's no more liquid in pan.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">While still warm add peanut butter, mix.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Let cool a minute or so</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Place cookie cutters on wax paper</div>Cut pieces of yarn and knot</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Fill cookie cutters half way, add yarn where you want to hang it. Fill the rest of the way. Pack it in firmly. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Let cool a few hours rotating often (when you remember, walk through, whatever) hang from try and enjoy your new friends. </div><br />
</div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Here's the link </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">http://www.designdazzle.com/2011/07/summer-camp-bird-feeders/</p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
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</p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-82163368440966523492014-03-23T14:07:00.001-04:002014-03-23T14:13:32.116-04:00Homemade French fries, the right way<div><br></div>These fries are time consuming if you are like me and don't own a deep fryer. If you have a large capacity deep fryer then you can do this much faster. <div><br></div><div>Potatoes, I try to use big potatoes but we were at the bottom of a 10lb bag and I used what I had left which was about 7 medium. </div><div><br></div><div>Get a bowl (a big bowl) and fill half with ice, half with water. </div><div>Slice your taters! What ever size you like, they don't have to be uniform! As you slice them place them in the ice water bowl</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ohk9qeCo9Cs/Uy8i5APWT_I/AAAAAAAAAss/GRSzLVUFAbs/s640/blogger-image-573803927.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ohk9qeCo9Cs/Uy8i5APWT_I/AAAAAAAAAss/GRSzLVUFAbs/s640/blogger-image-573803927.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Let them soak for around 20-30 minutes this gets most of the starch out, you'll see it in the water and bottom of bowl. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Rinse them off</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZdC0auoTJ9I/Uy8izlJdrVI/AAAAAAAAAsE/7IBmsBNw2kA/s640/blogger-image--533637703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZdC0auoTJ9I/Uy8izlJdrVI/AAAAAAAAAsE/7IBmsBNw2kA/s640/blogger-image--533637703.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Now lay a tea-towel, kitchen towel, something out that will absorb water and place the fries on top to dry (grease plus water = look out) (now is when you want to heat your oil, I use 3-4 on my stove, you want a lower heat) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-hS3INlzOwrM/Uy8i0Rs_QmI/AAAAAAAAAsM/xNa2jmsISq8/s640/blogger-image-1062564943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-hS3INlzOwrM/Uy8i0Rs_QmI/AAAAAAAAAsM/xNa2jmsISq8/s640/blogger-image-1062564943.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I put another towel on top and pat dry. </div>When they are dry and your oil is hot (low heat hot, but it still needs to sizzle) drop them in a handful or two at a time, or if you're lucky enough to have a large deep fryer, all of them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MWtc80nrRRQ/Uy8i2L29CsI/AAAAAAAAAsc/mvFs_mIWaeg/s640/blogger-image--645406839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MWtc80nrRRQ/Uy8i2L29CsI/AAAAAAAAAsc/mvFs_mIWaeg/s640/blogger-image--645406839.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When you buy frozen fries, that step ^^ has already been done! then they flash freeze them and package them. So you want these fries to look like the frozen ones you buy. A good way to judge is they start to float. They will be limp and appear raw. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zIUySuZnetM/Uy8i1ZHCrzI/AAAAAAAAAsU/TK9dQ9dpv00/s640/blogger-image-447528613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zIUySuZnetM/Uy8i1ZHCrzI/AAAAAAAAAsU/TK9dQ9dpv00/s640/blogger-image-447528613.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Now, let them drain (and cool to about room temp) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Crank up the grease to a higher heat (I use 5-6 on my stove top, if you're using a deep fryer just use whatever temp you'd use for frozen fries) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Fry those bad boys up until they get that golden color, put on paper towel and sprinkle with salt. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-QkeKoXoeuq0/Uy8i3FAFvaI/AAAAAAAAAsk/cYdZIELvtSs/s640/blogger-image--2121845385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-QkeKoXoeuq0/Uy8i3FAFvaI/AAAAAAAAAsk/cYdZIELvtSs/s640/blogger-image--2121845385.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Enjoy! I used canola oil, any frying oil will do, if you're looking for a five guys fry, use peanut oil ;) </div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-46369580487308785832014-03-13T16:20:00.001-04:002014-03-13T16:25:34.365-04:00To the crabby Chesterfield County bus driver this morning:<div><br></div><div>* I wrote this letter this morning. It's personal, it's raw, it's pure guilt. I think that's good though. I think through my mistake I made this morning you can learn some valuable lessons. </div><div>1: never ever assume your life is so much worse than that of a person giving you a hard time. Craptastic days happen to everyone, you're not alone. </div><div>2: Christians aren't perfect, we're forgiven. We are human and we sin. </div><div>3: Anger is a dangerous, dangerous thing, we have to learn to turn it into something positive. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I don't know who she was, what bus number she drove but if you know a Chesterfield county bus driver, share this post, maybe she will read it and know, I'm sorry, I was wrong, it was hurtful and uncalled for. *</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">To the crabby Chesterfield County bus driver this morning: </span></div><div><br></div><div>I drop my daughter off at school every morning the way the parking lot/ entry is laid out there's a line of anxious parents to the left of the entry, ready and in a hurry to drop off their precious at school. To the right of the entry is for buses, teachers and parents to get through to the bus drop off and parking lots. If you're trying to reach the parking lots you must drive down the right side stop and look for oncoming traffic (because four lanes with a median turns into 2 lanes here) go on the wrong side of the road for about a car length and a half and dart into one of the 2 lots. </div><div><br></div><div>This morning was different for me. This morning I was one of the parents going to the parking lot. Today has been hectic, this week has been hellish. </div><div><br></div><div>On any normal morning I have a 2 bus rule. I will let 1-2 buses out on my way through (both ways). You have to be aggressive because if you aren't the buses will take advantage of your kindness and you'll be sitting there with a train of yellow boxes clogging both the entry and exit of the school. I try not to inconvenience anyone because I know some of the parents are headed to work or school or somewhere more important than I am, I'm just going home on most days. </div><div><br></div><div>This morning as I darted around the line of cars and came to where the buses enter/exit I let 1 bus in and 1 bus out. You were next. But I went ahead (because you do have to stop there, ya know) I saw you edging out trying to take advantage of my seemingly kind gesture to the other buses. I moved up aggressively I was going around any way. When I looked for oncoming traffic there were 2 cars coming which caused my back bumper to impede your progress across the busy intersection for all of 20 seconds. I even said out loud oops, sorry lady I didn't see the cars coming, it's not like you had enough time to get out, but you're bigger and we have brakes, right? What happened next shocked me...you laid on your horn! I mean laid on it. At first I said out loud where you could read my lips 'I'm sorry' but as I made eye contact with you you're angry look and glare upset me and I mouthed the word 'b*tch' to you (so that my children didn't hear) . For that, I'm sorry. I'm not sure why it managed to come out. </div><div><br></div><div>I got to thinking how you know nothing about me, about my life, my stresses. You've got no clue that Murphy and his law has made permanent residence in my home, that I am constantly anxious dealing with certain issues in my life, you don't know that buckled in the back seat is 2 of my 3 kids, one of which is my last that I will ever have. You have no idea that when I go home he has to do physical therapy exercises, wear braces on his legs and be catheterized every 4 hours because he can't even control his own bowel and bladder. I even muttered the words 'you've dropped your kids off, what is the hurry? You gotta get home to eat Bon bons?' </div><div><br></div><div>Truth is, I don't know your stresses either. I know you aren't new to the bus driving game. You appear old enough to have been doing this for a few years. Maybe it is just a job to you, or perhaps you love those kids regardless of the disrespect you likely find yourself receiving from them. The snotty noses, 'down in back', crossing RR tracks, screaming, yelling, hitting, pushing. The same thing I deal with daily times 10. </div><div><br></div><div>So maybe we both needed to get a little stress out this morning and unfortunately we were both victim of the others glare/words/horn/anger. </div><div><br></div><div>So, I'm sorry. I don't know if you'll even read this, I hope you do (I don't even know your bus number) I'm not a bad person, I'm usually quite personable, kind, generous, forgiving, helpful person. This morning I didn't not display that nor did I display the kind of Christian lifestyle I try to live and, for that, I owe you a huge apology. </div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-20124337331791113242013-12-18T21:14:00.001-05:002013-12-18T21:14:21.917-05:00An open letter to my daughter.<div>If there's anything I've learned in my life, it's that it is hard to be a woman. The stereotypes how we should look and act. I've made my way through life the hard way, I want you to have it a little easier. I hear you ask things "am I pretty?" "Do I look fat?" I already see the world taking it's toll on your confidence. Don't let it. You are made perfectly a unique, Divine Creation. </div><div><br></div><div>I feel like I'm standing still barely breathing and blinking and time is flying by, I'm not a girly girl I don't wear makeup a lot, I dress for comfort not fashion. I've traded the majority of my stilettos for flip flops and cowboy boots and yet you still think I'm this amazing woman, you still watch me in awe, learning and taking notes of what this major female role model in your life is and what you aspire to be. Don't be like me baby girl, be you and know all of these things. </div><div><br></div><div>1. The world is rough, not everyone will think you're pretty. Mommy always will. </div><div><br></div><div>2. People will be mean, they'll be hateful. Love them anyway. </div><div><br></div><div>3. Don't fall into the trap of having a supermodel figure/hair/makeup. Less is always more.</div><div><br></div><div>4. It's ok to cry, it's ok to laugh, it's ok to be silly most importantly it's ok to be you. </div><div><br></div><div>5. I don't care how much he says he loves you, he's not worth giving up your virginity until he commits in marriage. </div><div><br></div><div>6. You don't have to find a man by flaunting your body, when you find Mr. Right he will love you for you.</div><div><br></div><div>7. Don't give up looking for your fairy tale, it's out there somewhere and only the patient and persistent find theirs.</div><div><br></div><div>8. Never be afraid to stand up for what you believe in.</div><div><br></div><div>9. There will always be someone who has more, but somewhere someone has less give to those that need. </div><div><br></div><div>10. Hold your head high.</div><div><br></div><div>11. Don't ever settle because you don't think you're worth better, you are. </div><div><br></div><div>12. It's ok to have chocolate and wine for dinner. (When your 21, of course ;) ) </div><div><br></div><div>13. You don't have to be in the "in" crowd to succeed, confidence, intelligence, ambition and persistence will get you where you need to be. </div><div><br></div><div>14. Don't forget while you're out there making it big, the little things are the most important in life.</div><div><br></div><div>15. It's ok to go to the store in sweatpants and cowboy boots, trust me. </div><div><br></div><div>16. Don't ever, EVER lose Faith. </div><div><br></div><div>17. Always give second chances, thirds and fourths are at your discretion but always forgive. Forgiving doesn't mean a person has to stay in your life, it just means you forgive them and are moving on.</div><div><br></div><div>18. Jewelry is overrated.</div><div><br></div><div>19. Don't be afraid to be alone. (Because you really never are) </div><div><br></div><div>20. Don't be afraid to find yourself.</div><div><br></div><div>21. And when you do, set your goals and stick to them.</div><div><br></div><div>22. Money can't buy happiness. </div><div><br></div><div>23. You are WORTH it, whatever it is. You DESERVE to be treated amazing, to feel loved, cared for, important, irreplaceable. </div><div><br></div><div>24. Life is full of disappointments, stumbles, failures and falls. It's ok, dust yourself off and try again, we all mess up it's how we learn. </div><div><br></div><div>25. Mommy will always, always be here, arms and door open, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen. I will laugh with you, cry with you, rejoice with you and you will ALWAYS, ALWAYS be my pootah bear. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-72389752664226113272013-11-02T12:38:00.001-04:002013-11-02T12:38:12.196-04:00Fast Cars, Autumn Leaves and Country roadsI have a small love affair with back roads, one road in particular here locally. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t39nHKBP8RI/UnUm9D-1K-I/AAAAAAAAArw/_0DDea87PAc/s1600/FLETCHERCHAPEL.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t39nHKBP8RI/UnUm9D-1K-I/AAAAAAAAArw/_0DDea87PAc/s320/FLETCHERCHAPEL.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Growing up was pretty cool, I was a Tom-boy and I had 3 cool Uncles and an awesome Dad. Dad and his brother decided to buy old trucks and cars and rebuild them. He had an old Chevy pick-up 1959 (I'm pretty sure it was a '59 but he may correct me and say it was a '58 but I remember it being a '59- there were several vehicle purchases in that time period, ha)<br />
<br />
Anyway, those three (my Uncles and Dad)are the reason I love back country roads and driving fast. <br />
<br />
I spent a lot of time on the race track and in the pits. My favorite smells are (in this order) racing gas, tires burning rubber, honeysuckle, magnolia, pipe tobacco, summer rain and crisp autumn air. <br />
<br />
I had to drive down that road last week. I know it so well I could drive it with my eyes closed. There's an unspoken rule about back country roads, the speed limit doesn't matter you can drive as slow or as fast as you want and it's understood. <br />
<br />
I drove down that road and lost myself, I was young again and there was no speed limit, for just a little while I wasn't driving a Toyota Camry, I was in a Chevy pick up truck,in the passenger seat, I could feel the dust from the floor vents blowing in my face, I could hear the motor and laughed as I slid across the bench seat on a turn. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-47285156714735147542013-10-18T16:36:00.000-04:002013-10-18T16:36:42.781-04:00Oh-m-Gee... WHAT-Evah mom.<br />
<br />
Yeah, that's what I heard from the back seat of the car, my sweet (sometimes) little baby girl, my ONLY girl is now one of "them". <br />
And as I was having that "e-card moment"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LOlWxrHKAyU/UmGby7dXHFI/AAAAAAAAArg/eTAooqIjN2o/s1600/child.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LOlWxrHKAyU/UmGby7dXHFI/AAAAAAAAArg/eTAooqIjN2o/s320/child.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I remembered my Mother. <br />
My sweet, patient, God fearing Mom. <br />
<br />
<br />
Believe me, I needed God right this very moment or Avery Brooke was about to have a come to Jesus moment. <br />
<br />
<br />
Things flashed into my head, things I used to say (probably WHAT -EVAH) and only the good Lord knows what else. <br />
<br />
I remember finding out I was pregnant with Walker, finding out you're pregnant when you were a HORRIBLE child will also make you have a come to Jesus moment. (Hind sight, it's 20/20 ya know) I remember apologizing I mean begging basically- in tears. For forgiveness, I don't remember the exact words, but I remember them telling me, hey, that's how parenthood goes, we all got through it. <br />
<br />
Well I'm going through it. AB has been a screaming red hot beautiful mess since the day she was born, always into something, super intelligent (almost too intelligent) and now, here she is, months from being 6 (SIX!?) and she's gone all bratz, monster high on me. She wants to know when she can drive and reminds me that she doesn't NEED to go to school cause she "already knows everything there is to know" <br />
.......<br />
<br />
My Mom, God bless her heart. Such a good woman, best woman God placed on this earth. She's simple, and not always best with articulating whatever it is she's trying to say, but we all understand her. Her love and actions speak louder than her words. <br />
<br />
My sister and my husband and my brother (ok everyone) tells me I'm turning into Mom. And ya know, that's ok. That's what I strive to be...this woman, this amazingly beautiful, kind, generous, loving, caring woman. The woman that raised me even through the "what-Evers" and "I hate you's" the slammed doors, the suspensions from school, the yelling and hatred that spewed from my young teenage lips. <br />
<br />
So thanks Mom, thanks for teaching me how to love. Thanks for showing me how to be a good Mom (though some days I fail) thanks for reminding me, we all go through it and that I will survive it (with or without my natural color hair ;) ) <br />
<br />
I love ya oodles. <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-20419655191688835082013-08-11T08:24:00.001-04:002013-08-11T08:24:17.206-04:00White chicken enchiladas!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-CMRyPThjd6c/UgeCZ2cCuvI/AAAAAAAAAq0/AdzMIZZGOIc/s640/blogger-image-1373046195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-CMRyPThjd6c/UgeCZ2cCuvI/AAAAAAAAAq0/AdzMIZZGOIc/s640/blogger-image-1373046195.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So I've seen a recipe floating around for these bad boys, but you know me, I can't follow a recipe so here's my version. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3 boneless, skinless chicken breast</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 envelope of your favorite taco seasoning, I make my own see recipe below.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Half of a large onion sliced</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Peppers, lots of peppers I used what I had on hand which consisted of last years canned pimentos (about 3 TBSP) last years canned jalapeños (couple if heaping spoonfuls with juice) and half of a yellow pepper sliced , you can use any peppers you like or eliminate them all together</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Flour tortillas</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">CHEESE! Lots of Monterey Jack cheese ( about 3 cups) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2 cups of chicken broth (and about 1/4 cup for chicken breasts)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3 TBSP flour</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3TBSP butter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 can (4oz) green chilies drained ( don't freak, they aren't hot) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 cup sour cream</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>(Homemade taco seasoning)</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><i>1 tablespoon chili powder</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><ul style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; width: 334px; "><li style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; position: relative; "><i><label style="margin: 0px 0px 9px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; display: inline-block; width: 334px; cursor: pointer; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">1/4 teaspoon garlic powder</span></label><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/4 teaspoon onion powder</span></i></li><li style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; position: relative; "><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><i>1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes</i></span></li><li style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; position: relative; "><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><i>1/4 teaspoon dried oregano</i></span></li></ul><div><ul style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; width: 334px; "><li style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; position: relative; "><i><label style="margin: 0px 0px 9px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; display: inline-block; width: 334px; cursor: pointer; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">1/2 teaspoon paprika</span></label><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1 1/2 teaspoons cumin </span></i></li><li style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; position: relative; "><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><i>1 teaspoon sea salt</i></span></li><li style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; position: relative; "><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><i>1 teaspoon black pepper</i></span></li></ul><div><br></div></div><div>In a crock pot (or whatever method you prefer to use) add chicken, seasoning, onions and peppers and 1/4 cup chicken broth. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1caSmrD4gjk/UgeCVC4Zo2I/AAAAAAAAAqU/cGUGp3C75IU/s640/blogger-image--507058811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1caSmrD4gjk/UgeCVC4Zo2I/AAAAAAAAAqU/cGUGp3C75IU/s640/blogger-image--507058811.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Cook on low for 4-6 hours or until chicken falls apart and is cook thoroughly (duh!) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Once you're ready to assemble roll preheat oven to 350° chicken (I found getting it out with a slotted spoon was best, you don't want super soggy enchiladas) and cheese up in tortillas lay in GREASED (i used coconut oil cause i was out of shortening )dish. The kids had just tacos so there are not a lot and I used burrito wraps so they were HUGE I suggest you get the taco soft shells instead of burrito :) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-P5SE8MFibBM/UgeCW8g7sMI/AAAAAAAAAqc/VqJZ1guV5vo/s640/blogger-image-1340448712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-P5SE8MFibBM/UgeCW8g7sMI/AAAAAAAAAqc/VqJZ1guV5vo/s640/blogger-image-1340448712.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Now it's time for your sauce!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Melt butter in pan over med low heat, add flour whisk quickly! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-aKHlRJm29wU/UgeCUaDPCjI/AAAAAAAAAqM/EKg6kPfY5xI/s640/blogger-image--1551178268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-aKHlRJm29wU/UgeCUaDPCjI/AAAAAAAAAqM/EKg6kPfY5xI/s640/blogger-image--1551178268.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">Immediately add chicken broth. Now I'm going to be a good little chef and tell you to whisk constantly until thickened but here's my dirty little secret...I don't, I just pay close attention and whisk periodically until it starts to get thicker then I whisk constantly but like Momma always said, do as I say not as I do. :p</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-L4Kp1CtkEyI/UgeCYwGxqfI/AAAAAAAAAqs/prcAHCy0O0Y/s640/blogger-image-816659562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-L4Kp1CtkEyI/UgeCYwGxqfI/AAAAAAAAAqs/prcAHCy0O0Y/s640/blogger-image-816659562.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">While I was making my sauce I decided I wanted my shells to have a "crisp" to them and stuck them in the oven ( then I decided that 350° wasn't getting them crisp fast enough and cranked on the broiler for about 3 minutes, well it was supposed to be 3 minutes but I'm guessing longer HA!) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pM6wYfpe0qY/UgeCa5cKsCI/AAAAAAAAAq8/KWfwbUMoxRI/s640/blogger-image--424971743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pM6wYfpe0qY/UgeCa5cKsCI/AAAAAAAAAq8/KWfwbUMoxRI/s640/blogger-image--424971743.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">See that little lonely enchilada over there ^^? It's the one with the peppers and onions in it, Jason is anti-veggie. Lol. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Once your sauce is thickened REMOVE FROM HEAT add sour cream and chillies and stir. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HZTfRKSuiIk/UgeCb2iwjKI/AAAAAAAAArE/LyZXi7HDSeo/s640/blogger-image-2074331765.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HZTfRKSuiIk/UgeCb2iwjKI/AAAAAAAAArE/LyZXi7HDSeo/s640/blogger-image-2074331765.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Pour over your enchiladas, top with remaining Monterey Jack cheese and bake at 350° until heated thoroughly (about 15-20 minutes, possibly 25 if your interrupted by a child) turn broiler on again to brown the cheese a little bit. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--aOLcZxPxHA/UgeCX011QII/AAAAAAAAAqk/owETQ_l-f_s/s640/blogger-image--1037953394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--aOLcZxPxHA/UgeCX011QII/AAAAAAAAAqk/owETQ_l-f_s/s640/blogger-image--1037953394.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And there you have it! Yummy! </div><br></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-4063156053001024942013-05-29T10:16:00.001-04:002013-05-29T10:16:04.730-04:00Simple thingsSometimes, as an adult, I let the pressures of everyday life stress me to the max. It's weird because there's nothing you can do to stop it. It's like when you get married, buy a house and have children Murphy's law moves in- for eternity. This morning didn't go how it was supposed to (does it ever?) <div>Avery was exhausted and emotional, it's her last day of preschool. (Where on earth does time go?). She whined complained, couldn't get her seat belt right, her hair was annoying her, Gavin was looking at her wrong, you know normal childhood drama. Little did I know what was about to take place. </div><div><br></div><div>I've raised my children to know who Jesus is though we don't attend church on the regular basis Christianity is constant in our home. Avery is wise beyond her years or perhaps it's their innocence that allows them to truly see. They've not had their brain cluttered with daily nonsense. </div><div><br></div><div>Avery started a conversation about graduation and Gavin asked her a multitude of questions and she obliged with answers. Then he said is everyone coming? Avery said yes, everyone except Mema and Bumpy (Mema just passed last week). Gavin said yeah, they're old. Which then turned to talk about angels. (My Nanny has always since I can remember called my freckles angel kisses so that has stuck and we call them that too). For those that don't know, Gavin has Spina Bifida he is basically incontinent (that was seriously the hardest sentence I believe I have had to write in years) and wears AFOs (braces) that allow him to walk without falling that also cause painful blisters if you aren't careful, his toes split open because his skin is so dry from the ditropan that he takes and it doesn't allow him to sweat so he itches constantly. </div><div><br></div><div>the conversation went a little something like this: </div><div><br></div><div>Avery: you know Mema and Bumpy are still here, they are angels and they float around and kiss you while you sleep and when you wake up, there is a freckle. </div><div>Gavin: I don't like freckles, do I have freckles? </div><div>Me: yes, Gavin, you have Freckles. </div><div>Avery: it's ok Gavin, don't you want the angels to kiss you? Mema and Bumpy and everyone is in Heaven, with Jesus Gavin!</div><div>Gavin: I want to live with Jesus! </div><div>(Now let me just stop here a second. This is not something that scares me, I can see some parents freaking out because they think "my child wants to die!" That is not the case. My heart fluttered, my eyes began to well up with tears, my children want to live their life in such a way that they will live with JESUS! It made me happy, I AM doing an ok job at parenting!) </div><div>Avery: you will someday Gman, and guess what!? </div><div>Gavin: *excited* WHAT!!!??</div><div>Avery: when you go and live with Jesus, you won't have to get your pee pee out any more (cathing) you won't have to get your poopoo out anymore (enemas) your foot won't hurt and you won't need braces, you won't have cuts and blisters because no one hurts in Heaven. </div><div><br></div><div>Now the conversation lasted another 10 minutes but I was vacant, thinking of what Avery had said. A million things went trough my mind and I was crying, tears streaming down my face as I drive my big girl to school. She went on to explain what Heaven looked like (in her mind, or perhaps she knows?) thoughts running through my mind I could only grab one at a time. Some were sad, the realization that Gavin isn't normal, that he can't do those things and my only hope for him to gain those things are miracles. Then I started to think how special Gavin was and how Nanny told Walker how he was so special because he was my first born. Had I ever told Avery she was special? I know I have, but guilt over came me, because she is SO SPECIAL! Then seconds later happiness. I cannot even put into words what that teeny simple conversation between a 4 & 5 year old did to me. But I know on the way home it was silent, my phone didn't ring, the radio was blocked out, Gavin didn't say a word. I just sat there driving, thinking, praying. I don't know what I did to deserve such wonderful children, but I am sure thankful. It opened my eyes to innocence, it reminded me that He will carry my burdens for me if I ask. And in an instant, I knew everything would be fine. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lA3NPR7AUuk/UaYNkVPLHZI/AAAAAAAAApo/D5HyZLfgFEw/s640/blogger-image--1322449340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lA3NPR7AUuk/UaYNkVPLHZI/AAAAAAAAApo/D5HyZLfgFEw/s640/blogger-image--1322449340.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-6751792282479839622013-05-22T11:17:00.001-04:002013-05-22T11:17:38.673-04:00Mema<i>There are so many things that can be said about Mema. I didn't know her long but she left a lasting impression on me. </i><br><div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> Somewhere around 7 years ago I walked into my soon to be in-laws house. Sitting there was a gray haired short lady with a heavy British accent. She was outspoken yet kind. I was SO nervous to meet her. I knew that she was the "ring leader" (ha) I was convinced if Mema didn't like me I was at the bottom of the food chain. I don't know if she really loved me or just tolerated me, but she was never cross with me and I loved her very much. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> Over the years I got to know her well. I'd sit at her house and talk with her while Jason mowed her grass. She'd tell me stories, usually the same stories but I loved to hear them. They were her stories and she wanted them remembered. It didn't matter how many times she told them I'd listen as if it were the first time. I heard stories about WWII how she watched people die saw body parts in trees, how they stayed in bomb shelters and had rations "1 egg and slice of bacon per person per week" how she served in the Royal Navy, how she met her husband and married him. She got 10 days in the brig for being AWOL to marry him. She endured months without him, 4 weeks in an interrogation camp before she was ever able to come here and be with him. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">My favorite story to hear was the one about when they got married. The magistrate had informed Bumpy that he had to have been a resident for 6 weeks before he could get married. So he says to him "son, how long have you lived here?" To which Bumpy replies "2 days sir" so the magistrate says "ONCE AGAIN SON- How LONG have you lived here?" Again bumpy says "2 days, Sir" the magistrate looks at Mema as if to say is something wrong with his brain? Mema jabs him in the side and the magistrate says "ONCE AGAIN, SON" and bumpy says "6 weeks, sir!!!"</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">She always lit up with that story even when she had gotten bad and didn't know who I was that story made her eyes twinkle. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> Mema defeated death several times (in just the 6 years I've been married) . I remember one time in particular I was pregnant with Gavin, we'd just received the news he had SB. We didn't want to tell Mema because she was in the Hospital. She had asked me how the baby was, I replied with good. She wanted to feel him move, at this time he was active but not normally in the day. I remember praying God please PLEASE let him kick one time so Mema can at least feel him if she never holds him. He did, she felt him. I remember being so thankful I'd at least have that story to tell my son about his Great-Grandma. She survived it. And every single time after that. When Bumpy died, I was positive it was a matter of weeks, maybe months and Mema would join him. She didn't. She just kept on keeping on, which was exactly the type of woman she was, stubborn, feisty, strong, she was the boss and everyone knew it. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> Mema would have been 95 in July. <a href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" x-apple-data-detectors="true" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0">Monday night</a> she went to be with Jesus. I know that she is happy there, her family is there, her husband. We will miss her dearly. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-0e8JRQtbg-o/UZzhkPNxcVI/AAAAAAAAApY/uIUhKn6mNf4/s640/blogger-image--2003340402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-0e8JRQtbg-o/UZzhkPNxcVI/AAAAAAAAApY/uIUhKn6mNf4/s640/blogger-image--2003340402.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-44850744006225109342013-05-02T07:54:00.003-04:002013-05-02T07:54:52.379-04:00I'm backkkkkkkkToday I came here to read something I had written some time ago. <br />
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Floods of emotions came back as I got lost in my own posts. <br />
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I don't know why I haven't written anything in so long, busy? Lack of words? (Yeah I know, not me, I've always got something to say) <br />
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I think it's a combination if all things, life gets hectic, then even more hectic and eventually, there's a break, a silver lining, God was listening.<br />
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Life has been relentless the past few months, doctors, specialists dentists, cathing, medicine and dosage, school and dance... 5 things break all at once and then again, you find yourself fallen and you have to remember to pick yourself backup and keep fighting the good fight. <br />
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So I am back, I think (hope). I want to continue to write, to share my lessons learned. I'm also getting back to my cooking blog. <a href="http://sacrificecostsaveflavor.blogspot.com/2013/05/90-day-1.html">Here's</a> the link to that and the Facebook page link is on that blog....you can follow as well. <br />
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Much love! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-68635739024073933892012-04-12T14:04:00.000-04:002012-04-12T14:05:22.859-04:00Love, and a challenge for you.It is funny that this is a post I started about a month ago and just left it as a draft unable to find the words to finish it. In the past few days I have taken part in several conversations about "love" and I don't mean How you love your husband/boyfriend/significant other, I am talking about Pure, simple, unconditional love for humankind.<br />
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<i>Such an over-used and abused word. A lot of people today just can't even begin to wrap their heads around it. No clue of the how significant of a word it is. Two strongest words in any language "Love & Hate". I too am guilty of using both words loosely. " I love that dress" "I hate Lima beans"<br />
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Lets address "hate" first. Upon several discussion with several people Besides the "f" word I can't even understand why words are considered "dirty" other than society has made them that way. I mean would I get the same cross look if I called you a donkey instead of an ass? Probably not. Words that we consider "curse words" today have all been made into that and they are just words. If I were the person (whomever that person is) that was in charge of stamping words as "bad" Hate would be the number one word on the list. To hold Absolute pure hatred someone is the most vile feeling one can harbor. To say " I hate you" Is the biggest, nastiest insult one can give. It is dirty, it is mean, and it isn't healthy for anyone involved. </i><br />
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All that was the draft, I couldn't get any further with the post, I knew what I wanted to say but not how to say it.<br />
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I saw a shirt yesterday, it is perfect. "Love thy neighbor" <br />
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One of the things that has really gotten me pondering this whole "love" issue that apparently humans are having a really hard time with is the "Trayvon Martin" case. I realize that this is quite the controversial topic for some people and I don't intend on touching on the actual "case" I wasn't there, I don't know anything more than the mainstream media has allowed me to know. So I care not to get involved in <b>THAT</b> discussion. But rather the hatred that has been spewed from all different sides of this. There are white people screaming profanities and ugliness at/about black people and black people screaming back just as loud. It has flared this whole hatred war. It is crazy. <br />
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Then there was this morning a conversation between myself and a facebook friend on her status update with a few of her friends. It was a wonderful discussion and I realized that for some reason Hating someone for a lot of people is so much easier than swallowing their pride, and taking the high road. Doing the right thing is almost always the hardest. We are selfish people. I say we because I have been there! As a matter of fact here is one of my responses.<br />
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<i>"I tell you it was the absolute hardest thing ever. It has taken years. 11 to be exact. I have to say my Faith has helped me a lot...... The first girl I dealt with on the daily basis, she was a family member of my son's dad. I seriously HATED her, like I cannot even put into words the way I felt about her and it was mutual. I will never forget, it was her birthday and there was a party. I lived there so I was debating on what to do. I decided that day was the day I would take the high road. I bought a bday card and wrote in it something to the effect of "I know we don't see eye to eye and never will but I cannot live with hatred in my heart anymore so I do honestly wish you a happy bday". The look on her face was a little like she thought she had won and a little confused. I know it probably looked like she won, but she didn't, love did and hatred lost. It is really simple to just love everyone. Even when you are treated badly, love the person and hate the act/sin. It becomes a satisfying feeling watching my children see me do good and not speak badly. I want to be remembered for teaching and showing love. I turned the obsession of hate into an obsession of showing people how we should treat all human kind. I have made many enemies, and many people probably hate me and even more think I am strange but it all boils down to my mental status and being mentally healthy if that makes sense. You certainly have to WANT that "zen" feeling in order to achieve it and I still stumble and will never perfect it. You also can't worry about how other people perceive you. ...."</i><br />
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Then I got to thinking about all my different blog posts and how I almost SCREAM at my readers to LOVE ONE ANOTHER. <br />
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We went to NC for Easter to see my Mother's side of the family, I was driving and there comes a point in the interstate where it splits from 85 south to 40 west. I knew the split was coming 4 lanes would break off in a Y of 2 lanes each, I was in what would become the right lane for that exit. I noticed an SUV trying to get over, her trunk was so full that she couldn't even see out of her rearview mirror piled high with laundry baskets and trash bags of clothing and toys and such. She put her signal on so I slipped over to the far left lane in order for her to get over. Do you know what she did? She FLIPPED ME OFF! Seriously, she was mad and flipped me off because she was on her phone and I can only assume that she startled herself slowly merging into the lane and caught glimpse of me not realizing I was getting over so she had to blame someone else- me. I know I said something bad like "what the hell" or something I felt like crap after I said that and then there she drove past me know and I saw her cute little blonde headed daughter (I assume) in her car seat smiling at the passing cars, so, I thought in my head "God Bless you, Lord please let her have safe travel" I felt better after that. Not so nasty and guilty. It makes me sad that she doesn't know I wished her well. I wish I had a paper sign (perhaps I will make one) That just says "God bless you and have a fantastic day!" I am sure someone would take it sarcastic and I would probably be shot.<br />
Mom used to do that, it used to embarrass me, I remember one day going to or from the grocery store in the summertime windows open in our mini van. Something happened I don't really recall what but it wasn't My Mom's fault, she had the right away and these guys cussed her, I mean CUSSED her good too, it made me so sad that my Mother had to hear such filth and as she saw me stirring in the back ready to scream back she just stuck her pretty head out of the window threw her hand in the air and said "I will pray for you, God bless". I don't know what happened to those guys after that, perhaps they were nicer after that or maybe they just made fun of the crazy lady that will pray for them but either way my Mom did the right thing and went home with a clear conscience. <br />
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It is such a simple fix for us as humans but yet so hard, why? Why do we have to hate so much. We hate or are mean to people because of the color of their skin, their religion or lack thereof, their sexuality, their background, their past, their political beliefs. Why? We have to be different, if we weren't it would be boring, very boring. We hold grudges and aren't quick to forgive. Just because you have forgiven someone doesn't mean you have to invite them to the next cookout or even call and chit chat with them, just be cordial, polite, courteous, I mean really are these all dying qualities?<br />
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I wish I could change the world, I really do. I wish I could show one person love and it would spread just as quick as hate does but sadly less people are willing to work for that. Some people hold too much pride to just "grin and bare it" Some would rather cuss instead of politely smiling or walking away. So that is my challenge. I don't have a large amount of followers or readers, but even if the 21 of you that follow me will take the time to do this, perhaps it can spread. I called taking the high road and loving people the "ultimate pay it forward". Will you do it with me? Will you decide to find the positive, do the positive and show complete and total strangers that LOVE exists? Will you take the time to forgive that person that wronged you and makes you want to clinch your teeth until they crumble? Will you take the time to think before that road rage sets in? Take the time to revive the greatest feeling ever, Love. I know I can't change the world, but a couple of lives is ok by me. :)<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-80316716993778484872012-04-12T10:51:00.002-04:002012-04-12T10:51:58.988-04:00Just a little FYI-In case you missed it I started a 2nd blog where I keep all my recipes, eventually somehow I will figure out the tabs section and link the two but if you are missing the recipes and cooking posts- they are here http://sacrificecostsaveflavor.blogspot.com/<br />
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:)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6376564825122273493.post-71733643115949055582012-04-10T09:11:00.000-04:002012-04-10T09:21:42.564-04:00Never underestimate the power of prayer.Gavin will be 3 soon, in May to be exact. Time flies so fast once you have children. I have written many times about the miracles in my life, especially Gavin. On <a href="http://ramblingsofamotherof3.blogspot.com/2010/01/1-year-ago-today.html">January 8th 2009</a> I was told that Gavin would not be normal, actually, I was told he would have a poor quality life and that I should abort. Immediately we prayed, we asked our family to pray, they asked their friends to pray and my maternal Grandmother asked<a href="http://www.focusonthefamily.com/"> Focus on the Family to pray.</a>. She wanted to go see them and now after almost 3 years she will. She asked me to make a short video to show them Gavin's progress so I did. It isn't my best work and there is no music but it really gets the point across. The first few pics in the video are somewhat graphic but I wanted to share with the world where Gavin started and where he is now. <br />
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Again, warning this shows Gavin right after birth his lesion and cyst are visible. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14003002343563877993noreply@blogger.com1