tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75318535620856113262024-03-12T20:11:42.274-04:00Exceeding Abundantly"Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly, above all we ask or think..." Ephesians 3:20Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.comBlogger377125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-29144976391064698442017-06-30T15:54:00.001-04:002017-06-30T15:54:17.261-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Oh my.<br />
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I don't know why or where the idea came from, but I got it in my head this week to find a way to get on to my blog again.<br />
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It has been so long that I didn't know my password. And my email address is outdated and since been closed down. <br />
<br />
But I did it. <br />
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And here I am.<br />
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I don't have any great stories to tell or musings of my heart to share.<br />
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Yet.<br />
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But I will. And I can't wait. The past 4 years have been some of the busiest, most fulfilling, most challenging, and incredible years of our lives. I don't know if I could recount all the stories and memories and details. For a long time, that's what kept me from blogging...there was just no way I could summarize or catch up. There were just so many stories to tell, it overwhelmed me to think of filling in this 4 year gap.<br />
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So I gave myself a "get out of jail free" card. Not that blogging is like jail. But more that I needed to let it go, to let myself let it go, and not to worry or feel guilty or feel like a failure because I missed documenting four years of our lives. <br />
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At least I posted things on Facebook. Sometimes. <br />
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So I'm starting over. Starting fresh. I may tell a few tales and record a few adventures from years past, but mostly, I'll just pick right up. Right here.<br />
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Its June 30, 2017. <br />
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Hello!<br />
<br />Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-77356999215251483332013-04-05T00:06:00.001-04:002013-04-05T18:06:04.197-04:00Packed UpThis past week we closed on our new house and began life as home owners again. <br><br><br> <div style="text-align: center; clear: both" class="separator"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwn4-Ao8H5VvuYgAUGUvSjPKAUr2b63LV3MhO5cDYGq0ZDirSaHqLYVXmc58Nbx-1l35vQM-lrMUpVlibOWhlbRuYsv21NixeB4VXGtRZdRCdwv1aeLa_WVksQ5Ny8U-a-KL4MQmvwQapP/s640/blogger-image-1050230174.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwn4-Ao8H5VvuYgAUGUvSjPKAUr2b63LV3MhO5cDYGq0ZDirSaHqLYVXmc58Nbx-1l35vQM-lrMUpVlibOWhlbRuYsv21NixeB4VXGtRZdRCdwv1aeLa_WVksQ5Ny8U-a-KL4MQmvwQapP/s640/blogger-image-1050230174.jpg"></a></div><br><br>We've been renting for the past 3 1/2 years, and between living in Missouri, North Carolina and now way out West, there was no reason to buy until we knew we'd be settled.<br><br> <div style="text-align: center; clear: both" class="separator"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMfxESMRAQArQW8BJEsynCsI80YfhXJrZXiCb8_xHze-IC-Eb_-COxYe4rLWZuYWzDYPflm0tKOfescnxf5PE8_QiV7azNt-pu0rdh8TUJ610akF0G0yob5IJGrePQhaYW31Dso6Ibpjk/s640/blogger-image-1706389926.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMfxESMRAQArQW8BJEsynCsI80YfhXJrZXiCb8_xHze-IC-Eb_-COxYe4rLWZuYWzDYPflm0tKOfescnxf5PE8_QiV7azNt-pu0rdh8TUJ610akF0G0yob5IJGrePQhaYW31Dso6Ibpjk/s640/blogger-image-1706389926.jpg"></a></div><br><br>And so... here we are.<br><br>Settled. Well, aside from the mountains of boxes in every room. Haha.<br><br>But truly, we are well on our way to being settled. We're putting down roots. We're calling a house our own. <br><br> <div style="text-align: center; clear: both" class="separator"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzq2TE4EId_uO2UbafGyT8NeQLg5jUdaqtWMQu0ppQKUlzCkcPOfrZnkEOWbE7zu5VacJvHbFBq7cEqdKA7UBVX7Wv1_un0GDF7zIh874vcUjdmodIlF2ddTgmgPTGjSdSRKCAsmqWO9N/s640/blogger-image-1398633669.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzq2TE4EId_uO2UbafGyT8NeQLg5jUdaqtWMQu0ppQKUlzCkcPOfrZnkEOWbE7zu5VacJvHbFBq7cEqdKA7UBVX7Wv1_un0GDF7zIh874vcUjdmodIlF2ddTgmgPTGjSdSRKCAsmqWO9N/s640/blogger-image-1398633669.jpg"></a></div><br><br>And can I just say that getting all packed up and now unpacking for perhaps the last. time. ever. is just kind of wonderful?<br><br><br> <div style="text-align: center; clear: both" class="separator"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAJf3yTQFeVs3lA20sRUX9y_gXB9J-L43oLDKbllghy2Fy9-l8AWyDTMO3aKxKw6TGs3yFABMN1ikyEmMrw6oeoRuwuTaUTJMJ0yLpiQ4ac6fmXBmVeM8EI3X_pwSpOKkNfQd10Y8Ghyphenhyphen5/s640/blogger-image--1575233493.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAJf3yTQFeVs3lA20sRUX9y_gXB9J-L43oLDKbllghy2Fy9-l8AWyDTMO3aKxKw6TGs3yFABMN1ikyEmMrw6oeoRuwuTaUTJMJ0yLpiQ4ac6fmXBmVeM8EI3X_pwSpOKkNfQd10Y8Ghyphenhyphen5/s640/blogger-image--1575233493.jpg"></a></div><br><br>It's scary. But it's wonderful. <br><br>This is home. This is HOME. <br><br><br> <div style="text-align: center; clear: both" class="separator"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_jsYOmNkzbLRgx0Yy-e_NwPPg3Bkhz05o6T55V43ID8sv6MY8tNOQXKep1kpj5jsm7glztydNqD8iUl5LF53LAsl7FLTeKZmfHn9ZqqSVmKO4-u0WUbjAC1ycEo5KKiu0508E8y6bEdY/s640/blogger-image-62454349.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_jsYOmNkzbLRgx0Yy-e_NwPPg3Bkhz05o6T55V43ID8sv6MY8tNOQXKep1kpj5jsm7glztydNqD8iUl5LF53LAsl7FLTeKZmfHn9ZqqSVmKO4-u0WUbjAC1ycEo5KKiu0508E8y6bEdY/s640/blogger-image-62454349.jpg"></a></div> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-74892848114692959042013-03-21T00:14:00.001-04:002013-03-21T00:26:04.353-04:00Spitting Image<p>I better date their baby picture before I get confused… cause boy, oh boy, don’t these boys look a like?</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-_f6mx-aWtIU/UUqJGUPV3lI/AAAAAAAADI8/pWEuu12Sovs/s1600-h/IMG_9699%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9699" border="0" alt="IMG_9699" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Sku85zkixXU/UUqJGktAC9I/AAAAAAAADJE/DaOOMhx2QTk/IMG_9699_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Oldest and youngest. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-LWHoqh2g-Z0/UUqJHTUYBXI/AAAAAAAADJM/miTcr0Fbpug/s1600-h/IMG_9701%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9701" border="0" alt="IMG_9701" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-H7w15CWhKVY/UUqJHzzF6zI/AAAAAAAADJU/dKFNCxAbFd0/IMG_9701_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Biggest and smallest</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-o8xVKSsbCtA/UUqJIdp0D1I/AAAAAAAADJc/jMOrhij5iWM/s1600-h/IMG_9704%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9704" border="0" alt="IMG_9704" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-9TI1jLKnNmg/UUqJI6WrdNI/AAAAAAAADJk/DiYAX8-rscs/IMG_9704_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>And boy, oh boy, do I love them.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-66055293855514887892013-01-28T17:58:00.000-05:002013-01-28T17:58:00.044-05:00Peter’s Reply<p>I’m reading through the Bible in a year this year.</p> <p>I try to do this every few years so that in my regular devotions I don’t lose sight of the whole story, the big picture, if you will. I’m using Robert D M’Cheyne’s <a href="http://www.wholesomewords.org/family/bibleread/sword.html" target="_blank">bible reading plan</a>, which is great because not only will I read through the entire bible in a year, but will get to read the New Testament and the Psalms twice.</p> <p>In my daily reading, I came across this portion of Scripture that stayed in my heart and was the cause for meditation for several days, even the whole week.</p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-SgvlL4xlmgk/UQMOcMXhXpI/AAAAAAAADHw/sTxKuFh_Jxw/s1600-h/IMG_9588%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9588" border="0" alt="IMG_9588" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-o33bGjcwuyY/UQMOcjYOpmI/AAAAAAAADH4/0LAcaFkusRQ/IMG_9588_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p align="center"><strong>Matthew 16:16, “Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”</strong></p> <p align="left">I echo Peter’s word in my own heart as I bow before my Lord and submit my will to his. You are the Christ. You are the Redeemer. You are the Savior. You are the Son of the living God. And you have saved me. </p> <p align="left">Little old me.</p> <p align="left">Imperfect. Sinful. Willful. Disobedient me. </p> <p align="left">The Christ came to earth, my Christ came to earth… Yes, the very Son of God humbled himself, took on flesh, and bore the sins of the world through his suffering and death on the cross.</p> <p align="left">No wonder these words have stayed with me. What a wonderful and incredible miracle, that the Savior came to this world to save sinners.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-40508006539863605812013-01-24T18:43:00.001-05:002013-01-24T19:41:10.010-05:00Sweet sweet sweetness<p>I know you’ve been waiting for these sweet sweet pictures of this sweet sweet guy. Especially you, Mom.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-aZ131enc3c4/UQHHCBRdaXI/AAAAAAAADE8/Li_CH-9amME/s1600-h/IMG_9643%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9643" border="0" alt="IMG_9643" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-9CE5k36kWoY/UQHHC7fvhTI/AAAAAAAADFE/oepGyCrf7ns/IMG_9643_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>While I can’t say that life’s been terribly busy, it has been busy. Perhaps more of a getting-into-a-routine type busy, than a my-schedule-is-so-packed type busy.</p> <p>Which is nice. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-uftpSw7SqIk/UQHHDVvaxxI/AAAAAAAADFM/wFbfI9aELMQ/s1600-h/IMG_9649%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9649" border="0" alt="IMG_9649" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-RitM1izNN4I/UQHHD4W3AKI/AAAAAAAADFU/XKU1jpyCMNI/IMG_9649_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>I’m such a planner, organizer, all my ducks in a row kind of gal, that its been really really nice to have had these first months in a new place to settle in and figure out the new normal before the schedule started packing up.</p> <p>So…instead of running too and fro with things outside the home, we’ve been able to adjust to our new home and to have an inward focus.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-4XpMHIzlYc0/UQHHEbK8_1I/AAAAAAAADFc/85395Ftf6Xo/s1600-h/IMG_9650%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9650" border="0" alt="IMG_9650" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-I20GqkCsw4E/UQHHEx1PjII/AAAAAAAADFk/_fU15n1LXws/IMG_9650_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Which, again, is really nice. God is good to allow this time to sort out the kinks and get rid of the dust bunnies.</p> <p>And I think we’re just about there (if you ever really get there with four little kids! whew!). We’ve figured out what a clean house looks like. Finally. When unpacking, and repacking, and sorting and sifting, often the piles of stuff (okay, the piles of junk that I just insisted we needed to bring with us, only we don’t really use, and don’t really need, but I just couldn’t part with because sometime, someday, we might need to use them) hang out in corners and surfaces and become “normal,” but even those piles of stuff are finally organized or better yet… carried to Nick’s Jeep which was then driven to the Salvation Army and donated for some other person to enjoy (or pile into junk piles and carry with them over the hundreds of miles they move just like we did, haha).</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-WnlEiIxybL0/UQHHFcjlpTI/AAAAAAAADFs/EXG1FFz-qhU/s1600-h/IMG_9696%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9696" border="0" alt="IMG_9696" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-12is9kBeiUs/UQHHF4F8KnI/AAAAAAAADF0/fv8Bj8XYFoU/IMG_9696_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>We’re also getting settled in how we order our days. Its great to get into a home routine, to know what we do each day, and what to expect for the regular type stuff. </p> <p>The homeschooling routine was the hardest, since we were off school the week of Thanksgiving (yes, I’m actually going to go back that far in my discussion!), and then we moved the following week, then took a week to drive out to our new home, and 2 weeks before all our stuff had been delivered, then Christmas and New Years and… it really took a while before we were ready to hit the books full force and even able to get into a school routine.</p> <p>But with that too, we are just about there. The kids now <em>expect</em> to do school every morning, instead of me trying to convince them over and over again, that yes, regular people do school every day, and that’s what we’d been doing all year until we moved, and yes, I know its hard, and I know you’d rather… etc etc etc. Ya know how it goes. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-32pNVtTL46E/UQHHGLyo5yI/AAAAAAAADF8/2OXO5R0od80/s1600-h/IMG_9685%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9685" border="0" alt="IMG_9685" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-DvkXvWpqf2U/UQHHG5DM0CI/AAAAAAAADGE/ebj_5vs-McE/IMG_9685_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Perhaps the best part of our school week is that we joined a local Classical Conversations homeschool group. This group has been an amazing encouragement and support for staying with a regular routine. I love it. And the boys do too. CC is a little more expensive (okay, so really it’s the first homeschool group we ever had to pay more than just a supplies fee—there is a tuition), but it is clearly the best group we’ve been a part of. More for its academics and teaching style than anything, but so worth it and we so love it. We’ve only been going for 2 weeks, so I can’t say we love it because of the friendships and the fellowship yet, but Lord willing, that will come too. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Kap3p4TMg24/UQHHHDfZOGI/AAAAAAAADGM/wa7xHADvVgI/s1600-h/IMG_9647%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9647" border="0" alt="IMG_9647" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-XpQBWxCo0o8/UQHHHoOOF8I/AAAAAAAADGU/_Jwi9F5RjBc/IMG_9647_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Nick is getting into a routine at work (well, mostly) and we’re getting used to, (!!!!! and absolutely loving !!!) having him home more. He is through the door at a regular time each day, and is not only enjoying his work, but he is invigorated and rejuvenated and is happier and more laid back than I’ve seen him in years. Not that Nick was ever “unhappy” or ever really “stressed out,” but just not really enjoying his job and all the extreme demands and the high stress work environment that the Army brought… it had really burnt him out. More than I realized too. But anyway, it is wonderful to have my man around so much more, and we are literally soaking in God’s goodness in bringing us here. </p> <p>And now that I’ve got a husband who is regularly home for dinner again, I decided it was high time to whip up masterpieces in the kitchen again. Haha.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-86yWF9ye5Ww/UQHHIfrlaqI/AAAAAAAADGc/Z9X5AE_aBjg/s1600-h/IMG_9674%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9674" border="0" alt="IMG_9674" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-y4MH-SaFyqw/UQHHIn0gPWI/AAAAAAAADGk/UHerQeLzkq0/IMG_9674_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>You all know I love to cook, but having a 4th baby and moving and settling and all that jazz had put my culinary genius on hold. Haha. (I always laugh a little when I call myself an extraordinaire in the kitchen. I mean, I do love to cook, and I can cook fairly well, but I’m practical too, and really have only the Food Network and my own intuition to thank for my expertise, haha, so laugh with me). On hold, until two weeks ago, when we were in enough of a predictable schedule, that after I got all the kids down for quiet time, I started getting dinner ready in my downtime, and what? Wow? Can you believe it? This gal can cook again. And truth be told, I’ve cooked up some dream of a meal EVERY day for the last two weeks (well, except for one fast food run when Nick was out of town). Oh man, did I miss that part of the regular routine. I haven't really cooked anything amazing and new and delicious since before Sam was born. Four. months. ago.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-O96EfwyJji8/UQHHJiEABhI/AAAAAAAADGs/_KKuG4FBntU/s1600-h/IMG_9698%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9698" border="0" alt="IMG_9698" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-nTihH3yq8Eo/UQHHJ9cDPJI/AAAAAAAADG0/u49GpEfy8ZQ/IMG_9698_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Which leads me to the last point of this post. Sam. He’s four months old tomorrow and his mama has just finally settled into a routine enough that she took out her big amazing DSLR and snapped a few beauts to share with the masses. Can you believe it? I know its not much, but my camera is not something I’ve even wanted to deal with the last few months. No energy or creativity to figure out the right lighting or the right ideas or even just to pick up the camera and ask the kids to smile. Isn’t that sad? Sigh. Oh man, I’m so glad to be back into a regular groove again. God is good. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-eCtdGIhUDCs/UQHHKpNUMJI/AAAAAAAADG8/Vxz1Gw01F3g/s1600-h/IMG_9668%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9668" border="0" alt="IMG_9668" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-GjKovrIsDWE/UQHHLAEd7fI/AAAAAAAADHE/K1vnpo647F8/IMG_9668_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>And his goodness is poured out on me in so many ways, not the least of which is this angel of a baby we call Sameram. Boy, do I love him. He is content and cheerful. He smiles and coos and smacks on his thumb (yes, we’ve got another thumb sucker here!). He melts my heart with a single glance, and I love that I’m loving on him again too. Glad to be past the stress and focus on leaving and moving and meeting and greeting and to instead focus on getting my home in order.</p> <p>At least for a month or two. </p> <p>Because basketball practice and games, bible studies and homeschool groups, and church, and house-hunting and… well…we’re back to running around like crazy. Haha! Such is life during this stage.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-27786861877460907522013-01-16T21:36:00.001-05:002013-01-17T09:52:39.057-05:00A Fresh Start<p>Oh friends, what a whirlwind these last few months have been. A good whirlwind, with fun and adventure, but a challenging whirlwind all the same.</p> <p>We left everything we knew, from the Army greens, to our church family, to our beautiful home in the South. And moved West… to the mountains, to a new job… to a new beginning.</p> <p>I’ve always loved a fresh start. I’ve loved jumping into the newness like putting on a new coat. I love embracing its feel and shape, getting used to its length and the fabric. The trimness. The smoothness. The great beauty and joy of something fresh. Yes, I love it. I love a fresh start. The possibilities… the adventures… the people… I love it.</p> <p>But oh, oh I hate it too. I hate taking off the old and setting it aside. I hate saying goodbye and leaving. I hate the emotional pull to live in the past, instead of the present… to wonder and worry what is going on in the life behind me. I find I want to hold on to my safe and comfortable home, with all its familiar creaks and drips and groans; its strong friendship and warm conversation instead of plunging into this world of coldness and unfamiliarity.</p> <p>And since early December, this has been my challenge.</p> <p>This has been my beautiful mess. </p> <p>This place we now call home is bright and lovely. The mountains beckon us, with their snowcapped beauty and unexplored wilderness. This busy little town, with new shops and new streets, it calls to me, it whispers my name. I’m filled with longing to explore, to taste and see. The new faces, the new perspectives, the new personalities… they are exciting too. I find myself wanting to jump in, converse, and soak. </p> <p>But I also want to shrink and hide. At times, I’m overtaken with the newness. And instead of being wonderful, its scary. Its lonely. The mountains, the cowboy boots, and the frigid temperatures…it is different. And it is not home. I struggle to be the new person. The awkward person. The sore thumb. The one who desperately wants to be a part, but struggles to put herself out there, to be vulnerable, to let her own awkwardness show.</p> <p>Its humbling. And hard. </p> <p>The kids feel it too. “Mom, they ask, will we make new friends?” “Will there be any kids there?” “Will I have anyone to invite to my birthday party?”</p> <p>And so together, we dive in. Heartstrings suitably pulled, we press on, as a family with a united front. Not just for ourselves, but this time for the children also.</p> <p>We join a weekly Classical Conversations group and a Wednesday evening children’s group. We enroll in Upward Basketball. We get library cards and meet the story time ladies. We go to church, Sunday School and evening prayer meetings. We bring Christmas cookies to our neighbors. We walk to the park and chat with locals. We bring dinner to Mr. Milton. We stop and talk with people at the grocery store and at Starbucks. We host meals and play dates. We push. We pull. We work.</p> <p>And slowly we’re getting there. </p> <p>But even still I must remember--in my quest to belong and feel part of this new place-- that this world is not my home. I am a stranger. A pilgrim. A sojourner. </p> <p>And while I may long for that comfortable coziness of home… I must remember that this side of glory nothing will ever fill that need. I’ll never be home. And the reality must yet again hit me: our old home? It wasn’t home either. The home before that. Nope, not it. </p> <p>Never. Never on this earth have I been home. And never will my need and desire be filled. </p> <p>But even still, I need to keep pushing, and plunging, and pressing. I need to keep serving, keep stretching, keep meeting, keep putting myself out there. But not for me. No. Not for my kids either. </p> <p>But for Him.</p> <p>To be His instrument. To be His messenger. To be His servant. To bring the hope of Christ, the joy of salvation, the beauty and newness of life that comes from walking in and with God alone.</p> <p>That’s my purpose. And that’s the beauty of this fresh start—its a chance to share that joy and bring that hope to others.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-72178033631241551752012-11-22T23:34:00.001-05:002012-11-22T23:39:41.693-05:00Lord's Day RestNothing beats a Sunday afternoon nap... except maybe worshipping the Lord at church.<br />
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I'm so thankful for both--one day in seven set aside for worship and rest! Wow!<br />
Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-13278512598090775212012-11-13T22:59:00.000-05:002012-11-13T22:59:00.350-05:00Infamous<p>I always wondered what I’d do if I had a skinny baby. </p> <p>Probably freak out just a little.</p> <p>Slimness is not something that my kids “do.” At least during their first year of life. They are big at birth, and they just keep getting bigger. Rounder and rounder. Chubbier and chubbier with this great stuff called mother’s milk. Its not that they eat an extraordinary amount, its that, according to the doctors, I make pure whipping cream.</p> <p>It never takes long before the infamous family double chin appears. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-W5Ouz1tCU1U/UKHGNun4bnI/AAAAAAAADAM/JNXAqiH8Y-0/s1600-h/IMG_9334%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9334" border="0" alt="IMG_9334" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-WmHVr7VIfhQ/UKHGOcB9d-I/AAAAAAAADAU/4kWbxCJGD7w/IMG_9334_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Doesn’t he wear it well? Oooh, I just love my little double chinned boy.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-58614923591615154882012-11-12T23:40:00.001-05:002012-11-12T23:41:29.983-05:00Blue Eyed Boy<p>I don’t know how it keeps happening, but we keep producing blue eyed boys. (and it appears Samuel’s eyes are going to be blue as well).</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-VQzMpTl_xpQ/UKHPH35zubI/AAAAAAAADDE/jxgUFfyoVa8/s1600-h/IMG_9319%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9319" border="0" alt="IMG_9319" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-D0neOyIhkC8/UKHPInaTwaI/AAAAAAAADDM/5_CDXU2myH4/IMG_9319_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a></p> <p>I admit that I’ve always kind of wanted one of our sons to be the spitting image of his father. Brown eyed. Brown haired. And drop dead gorgeous.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-B_qjsu5umZs/UKHPJr8USLI/AAAAAAAADDU/euF09w5ZsAM/s1600-h/IMG_9311%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9311" border="0" alt="IMG_9311" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-fhEhaNEW9Sk/UKHPKd099II/AAAAAAAADDc/gos-I5xxsOg/IMG_9311_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a></p> <p>Okay, so my boys don’t need to be quite that good looking (I’m so not looking forward to fending off the females in the years to come!!) But still, I love the dark hair and dark eyes, and would love for my boys to follow after their daddy.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-nXfootRDN7I/UKHPLAR5oaI/AAAAAAAADDk/vaD5KcdN1HE/s1600-h/IMG_9312%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9312" border="0" alt="IMG_9312" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-oAgSfDllmgI/UKHPMOhNnMI/AAAAAAAADDs/Qn9g3R_4FWs/IMG_9312_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a></p> <p>And they do.</p> <p>In so many ways they are their fathers sons. The smiles. The expressions. The way they walk. Talk. Gesture. </p> <p>But…</p> <p>There are no brown eyes like their daddy’s here.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-TZygJBb22XA/UKHPNRr2G7I/AAAAAAAADD0/FH85BjINxwE/s1600-h/IMG_9317%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9317" border="0" alt="IMG_9317" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-GEkydvSK1e8/UKHPN19EFII/AAAAAAAADD8/nyQy99wBvhk/IMG_9317_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Oh goodness, aren’t his eyes just so blue? </p> <p> </p> <p>*sure wish we’d wiped lunch off his face before snapping these beauties. Nuts.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-12994898397616283012012-10-24T00:21:00.000-04:002012-11-12T23:24:30.558-05:00Pumpkin Patch 2012<p>Every year we go to the pumpkin patch.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-N3PuPeIzzRo/UKHLPZwwS0I/AAAAAAAADA4/ytYoouT8k4I/s1600-h/IMG_9131%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9131" border="0" alt="IMG_9131" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-DSTm1fSz9Y8/UKHLQSX9_qI/AAAAAAAADBA/mAraghrQsD8/IMG_9131_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-UZAaI-TpIJw/UKHLRAk6BeI/AAAAAAAADBI/0rfKR28eCms/s1600-h/IMG_9138%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9138" border="0" alt="IMG_9138" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-dkNtr_-Z58w/UKHLRx3Qk6I/AAAAAAAADBQ/owUegDcCD2U/IMG_9138_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a></p> <p>It doesn’t matter what state we are living in, or which pumpkin patch we go to, but every year we go. It’s kind of a family tradition. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-NnC9lT9oxCI/UKHLUkNl6YI/AAAAAAAADBY/CpkCzRdu3OM/s1600-h/IMG_9114%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9114" border="0" alt="IMG_9114" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-rXlpOIb1BVo/UKHLVrmOXeI/AAAAAAAADBg/rwGbYI3ByUI/IMG_9114_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>This year was no exception. We landed a beautiful autumn day and hit the ground running. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-mhPcsGa7_z4/UKHLYKmaG6I/AAAAAAAADBo/Nt-TgPGlHXk/s1600-h/IMG_9121%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9121" border="0" alt="IMG_9121" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-c2pjHIUWuR8/UKHLZCXHKtI/AAAAAAAADBw/Bu55twrGVeI/IMG_9121_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="417"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-EOIumEmpEzE/UKHLaJpUy_I/AAAAAAAADB4/Ffo--njWZBs/s1600-h/IMG_9104%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9104" border="0" alt="IMG_9104" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-dUhWTSxHZ8E/UKHLbPMWZhI/AAAAAAAADCA/-SRZJIEtAKs/IMG_9104_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>At this particular pumpkin patch, West Produce, we took a tractor ride around the pumpkin patch, played store and other such country like activities, and of course, posed for pictures by wagon wheels and general stores.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ozZmgFg0FRo/UKHLcCpeLLI/AAAAAAAADCI/RiVvph3vwZ0/s1600-h/IMG_9140%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9140" border="0" alt="IMG_9140" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-FSubIpa2BoQ/UKHLc3L7GmI/AAAAAAAADCQ/4u0BurD6cLk/IMG_9140_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>The boys loved it. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-z1LKX-5PO4M/UKHLedF_zVI/AAAAAAAADCY/OsdjBIMrrM0/s1600-h/IMG_9137%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9137" border="0" alt="IMG_9137" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-YK3gyq45kcE/UKHLfIo3cNI/AAAAAAAADCg/DBRfyz3Qjf0/IMG_9137_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-83420420195864735522012-10-19T14:56:00.001-04:002012-10-19T15:00:10.551-04:00Mother and Son<p>Words can’t express the closeness of this bond. Mother and child. Praise God for this new addition</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-UKIyZ2RBCkA/UIGiJKUeUEI/AAAAAAAAC8U/vsKTucnIZpM/s1600-h/IMG_9158%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9158" border="0" alt="IMG_9158" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-pOGsVLlkVWo/UIGiJyVhDrI/AAAAAAAAC8c/FeOqsvY2oos/IMG_9158_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-WLxnPaUUhiw/UIGiKyeGrJI/AAAAAAAAC8k/JAKr7hyH0TA/s1600-h/IMG_9163%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9163" border="0" alt="IMG_9163" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ZJjy-mXATvw/UIGiMDVlCCI/AAAAAAAAC8s/K667xmIqQ0A/IMG_9163_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="457" height="640"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-oQIqqY7k0FY/UIGiNc4MXOI/AAAAAAAAC80/oMrOJ4axcN0/s1600-h/IMG_9159%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9159" border="0" alt="IMG_9159" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3B8LaY0cVtM/UIGiOHYOETI/AAAAAAAAC88/7eq56AzwuME/IMG_9159_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-2hc7p2Jh4C4/UIGiPWzJXCI/AAAAAAAAC9E/lCDocOJ7poc/s1600-h/IMG_9211%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9211" border="0" alt="IMG_9211" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-MvNWWw9A8fs/UIGiP_y1HeI/AAAAAAAAC9M/OpFPQ98GBRI/IMG_9211_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-TImq_C7V0qY/UIGiRMA_WsI/AAAAAAAAC9U/8dS_bovjKfE/s1600-h/IMG_9219%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9219" border="0" alt="IMG_9219" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-8Eqg5P8VC-E/UIGiR2SOX5I/AAAAAAAAC9c/ifaH-waY_v4/IMG_9219_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-0JJC39xeE6k/UIGiSwKvzfI/AAAAAAAAC9k/fUbYyiXaMn0/s1600-h/IMG_9222%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9222" border="0" alt="IMG_9222" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-kw6HlidUGn4/UIGiTqWdAAI/AAAAAAAAC9s/lDLMj87e3OE/IMG_9222_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-bBz5SQISlhA/UIGiUvWM93I/AAAAAAAAC90/fe2QiqniC_g/s1600-h/IMG_9281%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9281" border="0" alt="IMG_9281" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-oHXQciMLbj0/UIGiVSnVL7I/AAAAAAAAC98/f-L4NAlj5e8/IMG_9281_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-ZU6Ug4hTtKU/UIGiWQGSoNI/AAAAAAAAC-E/y-aElUiI1Y8/s1600-h/IMG_9285%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9285" border="0" alt="IMG_9285" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-9rmCPHVvous/UIGiXE3bCKI/AAAAAAAAC-M/lEt5jJjZjPg/IMG_9285_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-0bmvgqXu7Ng/UIGiYNJ20GI/AAAAAAAAC-U/1kryexJ9858/s1600-h/IMG_9289%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9289" border="0" alt="IMG_9289" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Dv_Icweeu00/UIGiY4S_YOI/AAAAAAAAC-c/Wg05GIN7LDM/IMG_9289_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-GNXwSU_897I/UIGiaGKklHI/AAAAAAAAC-k/Kq8RKtASbx8/s1600-h/IMG_9290%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_9290" border="0" alt="IMG_9290" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-SMepyeRFzC8/UIGibW_9giI/AAAAAAAAC-s/rxEHPzLBPhw/IMG_9290_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-83677149936264010562012-09-26T20:39:00.000-04:002012-10-19T20:39:51.357-04:00Delivered!<p>The labor and delivery with my fourth son were both the longest and shortest labor of my life.</p> <p>Longest and shortest. </p> <p>And truly, its hard to say which.</p> <p>In the days leading up to Samuel’s birth, it seemed that I went into labor at least 3 times, only to have it fizzle out once the contractions got close enough to think about heading into the hospital.</p> <p>This was so discouraging at times, as I’d anticipated this little guys arrival to be early, or at least a week before his due date like all three of his brothers before him. And with all the labor type symptoms I’d been experiencing (hard regular contractions, cervix dilation etc) there were times during the pre-labor period that I felt rather sure that “this was IT.”</p> <p>On the other hand, there were also many times during the month before Samuel’s birth that I told my husband and friends that “I feel too comfortable to be this pregnant.” My experiences in pregnancy the previous three times had been that the last trimester is long and hard and super UNCOMFORTABLE. But I didn’t feel that way this time. Whether it was the regular exercise and the healthy eating habits or whether it was God’s pure grace showered upon me, giving me strength and comfort, I don’t know. Probably both. Well, for sure the latter, but I do think the former played a role as well. </p> <p>As I went through these periods of prodromal labor, I kept thinking, I’m getting close. But then, on other days, I’d be out mowing our 1/2 acre yard in 90 degree heat and think, I feel way too good to be 9 months pregnant.</p> <p>And so it went. A little labor. A little comfort. A little labor. A little comfort. All the way up till my due date.</p> <p>Two weeks, prior to my due date (and my delivery date, yes, Samuel was one of the 5% of babies born on his due date), the midwife indicated that she thought little Samuel was in a posterior position. Still with his head down, just his head facing the wrong direction. Sunnyside up, as the laymen call it. And baby’s born in that position tend to not only produce the longest, hardest labors, but they also increase the chances of transverse arrest (getting head stuck in moms pelvis), tearing on delivery, and c-section. Oh, and posterior baby’s very often present with a start and stop type labor that I’d been experiencing.</p> <p>And well, it made me a bit worried.</p> <p>Of course, its not impossible to deliver a posteriorly positioned baby. Many women have done it, and babies often turn to a proper position during labor…but delivering a posterior baby had proved nigh impossible <em>my</em> first time round. Isaiah, my oldest son, was born via c-section after days of hard labor, many many hours of pushing, an attempted vacuum extraction all to get that posterior head moved around in a way that allowed delivery. </p> <p>And so I had flashbacks. Would I need another c-section? Or could I VBAC like I had with my previous two baby’s?</p> <p>My VBAC’s had been so easy, I knew I wasn’t going to ask or plan for a c-section if I could help it. The midwife suggested several different exercises, as did close friends (thank you, Kelly, Nikki, Alicia!!), particularly the ones <a href="http://www.spinningbabies.com/" target="_blank">found here</a>. And so I exercised my heart out. Every day, 4 or 5 times a day, doing these odd and unusual (but extremely relieving and comforting!!) exercises to rotate the baby. </p> <p>I kept thinking he had moved some, as I felt kicks and tickling in different areas, but couldn’t be sure. And as time went by, and I continued with the “start again, stop again” labor, I wasn’t so sure. But God was. And He knew. And I think, in many ways, He was teaching me to be active, redeeming the time, but also teaching me to trust Him in new ways.</p> <p>When September 25th, my due date, rolled around, I was a big ball of emotions. Trusting the Lord (or trying to trust!!) but also worrying that the longer I was pregnant the bigger this baby would be, and the harder it’d be to rotate and deliver him. </p> <p>That morning though, I woke up with low abdominal cramping and some other symptoms of labor. But no contractions. I was suspicious, but carried on with my morning. I homeschooled the kids, cleaned the house, and went in for my scheduled OB check-up. Of course, when I arrived for my appointment, there were absolutely no contractions or reasons for the midwife to say, “this is IT, head on upstairs.” We actually had a good discussion about where I was at, I expressed my concerns about the baby’s size and gestation, we talked about natural ways to encourage labor and my hubby and I were reminded to be active in that (seriously, as though we needed reminding!!)</p> <p>And then we talked about c-sections and inductions. I’d have one more week to go into labor on my own, and then a induction would be necessary, if the induction failed (because they were limited in the types of drugs for induction with a VBAC), then a c-section would be indicated.</p> <p>I left the appointment still pregnant, and with a pink slip to schedule my induction for the following week and a non-stress test too. I seriously just about cried. </p> <p>Thankfully, my hubby was with me, and the kids were with a good friend (thanks, Kamilah!), and so we went for a walk to unwind and to be “active” in encouraging labor to start on its own. </p> <p>Well.</p> <p>Sure enough. It did.</p> <p>As we walked, contractions came on about 5 minutes apart. Sometimes hard. Sometimes long. Sometimes easy. Sometimes short. I was so hopeful that this was IT, but given the number of times (3) that I’d had labor start up only to fizzle out, NO WAY was I going to go into the hospital until I was absolutely certain. </p> <p>So we kept walking, putting in a mile or two. To my delight, the contractions got harder and steadier, down to about 3 minutes apart. We walked over to the car, and as soon as I sat down and buckled in, the contractions slowed down to about 10 minutes apart. Sigh. I nearly cried again. We decided to go out for lunch and get Thai food for a treat.</p> <p>On our car ride, my contractions stayed very hard (had to stop talking in order to breath and concentrate), but didn’t get any closer. We grabbed our take out and headed home to eat. </p> <p>But no sooner was I out of the car, and moving again, than the contractions sped up again. Nick insisted that we not linger at home very long. (I think he was more convinced that this was IT, than I was). I managed to get a few bites of lunch in, and rocked on the birthing ball a few times too, before we headed back to the hospital. </p> <p>I wasn’t quite feeling a sense of urgency, but good thing we didn’t wait at home any longer, as Samuel was born barely 30 minutes after arriving at the hospital. </p> <p>We got up to labor and delivery (I insisted on walking, I didn’t want the contractions to slow down and fizzle out by staying stationary). I was still laboring so calmly when we reached the unit, that the secretary actually sent us out to the waiting room. I know he was probably thinking the same thing I had been: “is this really IT? normally women in labor are crying and yelling” I think I will always laugh about that.</p> <p>Even funnier was that the waiting room was PACKED with pregnant moms and dads and relatives etc. I had a horrified thought that they were all awaiting L&D beds in front of me, but then quickly realized, <strong>I was the only one in the waiting room that was actually in labor!! </strong>As it turns out, I must have horrified them, as they were just there for the Tuesday, Labor & Delivery Unit Tour. Haha. That just cracks me up.</p> <p>So we left the waiting area, and I labored with Nick in the hall through a few contractions before we were brought back to a room. I think the seasoned nurse that checked me knew how far I was beforehand. Seasoned L&D nurses just know. And by that point, I did too. I was 8cm and in transition and hurting something awful now. The midwife was quickly in the room, as were the nurses. We had a few moments to get acquainted, and review my medical history (VBAC, history of big babies, and a potential posterior presentation) before my water broke. I was so thankful for Nick’s help and support in articulating our concerns and making sure they understood my needs, because there really wasn’t much time for chit chat.</p> <p>Samuel was born 4 minutes after my water broke. One contraction, about three little pushes, and there he was. A smoking 10lbs, 1oz, and 22 inches long! </p> <p>Wow! What an experience! My labor was just over 2 hours long, if we can actually call it that. Nick was wonderful, helping me through each contraction, and encouraging me during the most intense part. I couldn’t have done it without him. The midwives were amazing too. I was so thankful that they knew what they were doing, and didn’t insist on many formalities before the baby arrived. So often, they are trying to fill out paperwork, start IV’s, and all the typical admission processes, but they saw where I was, heard Nick explain, and just let me focus and “get it done.” They made sure (at Nick’s adamant request) that Samuel had turned to an anterior position before I started to push (which he had, praise the Lord!). They also helped prevent birth trauma for me by easing Samuel out, with pressure points, stretching and massage. And yes, I yet again, escaped without a stitch or tear.</p> <p>Wow! So fast, and intense, compared to the long wait and early prodromal labor I’d had before. God was so good in every moment of it. Giving me strength and stamina. Allowing Nick to be by my side. And in getting us to the hospital so that this big boy wasn’t born in the car!!</p> <p>And wow, what a big boy too!! I had been saying that if I went too much further, I’d be delivering a 10 pound baby, but no one believed me (except Nick!). Every midwife and nurse that I saw, insisted the baby was in the 7-8lb range. Even the midwife that delivered him, felt my belly and said “I don’t think we have a LGA (large for gestational age) baby in here.” </p> <p>After delivering this 10 pounder, I kept having nurses stop by the room and say, “we heard there was a 10 pound baby born in here!!” and funny thing was, they kept asking me where his mom was!! I’d laugh and say, “It’s me! Right here! The one in the hospital gown.” Yes, I guess that even after labor and delivery I just looked too good to have had such a moose. Haha.</p> <p>So there you have it. My longest and shortest delivery. My biggest baby. And another story of God’s goodness and grace. Praise the Lord!</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-51087036714109323732012-09-25T20:40:00.000-04:002012-10-19T20:40:23.988-04:00He Has Arrived<p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-kosE4F5U--w/UIGeh9fL1aI/AAAAAAAAC7o/Xa_x2x3jLos/s1600-h/IMG_8951%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8951" border="0" alt="IMG_8951" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-gF4fYUzbgR0/UIGeiihp-UI/AAAAAAAAC7w/kW27zQwZeFA/IMG_8951_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p align="center">Samuel David</p> <p align="center">“Asked of God, Beloved”</p> <p align="center">Born September 25, 2012 at 2:24pm</p> <p align="center">10lbs 1oz, 22inches</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-55839434350715900662012-07-23T17:14:00.000-04:002012-07-23T17:14:00.442-04:00Vacation without the Kids<p>I know its late to write about, but back in June I had the incredible opportunity and privilege to go on vacation by myself. </p> <p>And it was so much fun, and so relaxing, and so refreshing, I have to blog about it so I can look back and remember what a true luxury it was.</p> <p>It all started when a friend mentioned The Gospel Coalition Conference in Orlando, FL coming up in June. Her hubby is deployed and she thought she might leave her kids with her inlaws and go soak in the good news of the gospel at the retreat. The idea sounded so good, I mentioned it to Nick, and he unhesitatingly agreed that I should go. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-S17KFJ-k56A/UAcnpEA2cjI/AAAAAAAAC5Q/l2i0-iIp0X0/s1600-h/IMG_8544%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8544" border="0" alt="IMG_8544" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-wXX-_M--1PY/UAcnp-ShSwI/AAAAAAAAC5Y/rps3TjwzaUs/IMG_8544_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>In fact, he insisted. Despite the $$ cost of the conference, lodging, food, and travel. He wanted me to have the chance to get a away on my own, without the kids, and to renew my faith and outlook on life, and to sit under pure and beautiful preaching of God’s word that I so often miss while keeping kids still in church etc. etc.</p> <p>And so that settled it. No way was I going to argue. I’d just been handed a 5 day vacation to Orlando, FL with a good friend (we actually invited many more friends to join us, though it ended up just being the two of us). Take it! My hubby arranged to take 5 days off work to stay home with the boys, which was no easy task (both in getting the vacation time, and in surviving three little bundles of energy for 5 days) and sent me on my way.</p> <p>We drove down to Florida on a Thursday. It was a 9 hour drive, but the time in the car flew by. My friend, Becky, and I talked the entire way. Catching up, sharing life experiences, mulling over deep questions, and meditating on the Lord. And literally the time flew by. We couldn’t believe how fast the trip went. Or how easy it was to make stops. All we had to do was see a Starbucks, run in, get our lattes, hit the bathroom and jump back in the car. None of the unbuckling, rebuckling, “hold my hand,” walk across the parking lot, “no, don’t jump on the chairs,” “please stand still in line,” “oh I wish this Starbucks had a drive thru, and “oh no, this bathroom only has one stall.” Nope. Just in out and in 5 minutes. So easy, I almost felt guilty.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-vJew6LP0DzU/UAcnqgeC_sI/AAAAAAAAC5g/2NzptnDQ12U/s1600-h/IMG_8553%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8553" border="0" alt="IMG_8553" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ZD6agKppO9I/UAcnrKQAtaI/AAAAAAAAC5o/3Diez0O7V6Q/IMG_8553_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>The Women’s Gospel Coalition Conference started on Friday afternoon, so we checked into our Double Tree Resort, and lounged at the pool both Thursday evening and Friday morning. I don’t know that I have ever (???) sat poolside and just relaxed like this. Perhaps I did a few times before kids were born, but just sitting and swimming and reading at the pool, without worrying about anyone of my kids drowning was such a luxury. </p> <p>After a leisurely morning and an incredible breakfast at the hotels restaurant, we headed off to the conference. And had our hearts willed with gospel message after gospel message. It was incredible. It had been a long time since I’d heard so much uninterrupted solid preaching and teaching. Literally, we attended 18 one hour long sessions filled with the gospel, gospel, gospel in the course of 2 and half days. It was truly incredible. We heard from John Piper, D.A. Carson, Elyse Fitzpatrick, Nancy Leigh DeMoss, Tim & Kathy Keller, Noel Piper, Paige Brown, Jenny Salt, and many other influential authors, teachers, and preachers.</p> <p>I think what I was most amazed with, was how solid everything we heard was. For a women’s conference, I had expected there to be more fluff. More touchy feely kind of feministic type stuff to have worked its way into a conference for women. I mean, wouldn’t you? I also kind of expected it to be more light, instead of true solid exposition and profound teaching. And isn’t that the stereotype anyway? That women want to hear about women’s issues (marriage, parenting, homemaking etc) instead of the gospel message and expository preaching? I fell prey to the stereotype and was OVERWHELMED with how good, uplifting, refreshing, and amazing the pure gospel message is. And oh boy, I needed to hear it. I needed to be there, to soak it in, to drink it up, to renew my faith and purpose and reason for living. </p> <p>No, I do not live for my kids, for homeschooling, for cooking culinary masterpieces, or gardening the best garden, I live for Christ because he died for me. And the gospel needs to be at the center of all and everything that I do. ALL and EVERYTHING.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-wpq4uR_KBFk/UAcnsTFEbDI/AAAAAAAAC5w/9ybgLTNWRf0/s1600-h/IMG_8552%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8552" border="0" alt="IMG_8552" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/--JhPLennJIg/UAcntL2SpGI/AAAAAAAAC54/n2d2gK2gRbo/IMG_8552_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>One of the simplest and best take home messages I received was from Don Carson, the president of the Gospel Coalition. It was just a small part of a large exposition, but it hit home. He said, “People may not remember anything you said, they may not hear your preaching or your sermons etc, but they do remember what you are passionate about—so what are you passionate about? What do you care about most? Is it the gospel? Does it exude from you? Does it influence every statement, comment, Facebook post, and interaction you have with others? Are you known for the gospel? Or are you known for your big house? Your gourmet cooking? Your stories about your kids? Your political views? Your business savvy? Or are you known as one who is passionate about the gospel?”</p> <p>Oh man, it was a beautiful convicting thought provoking message that I hope I’ll always carry with me. I thought about my day to day interactions, how I talk and speak with my kids, friends, husband and family, and how they are so rarely filled with the gospel. Do my children know me as one who loves the gospel? Or do they think I’m most passionate about them sitting still in church or putting their shoes on the right feet? What comes out of my lips more? What do I teach and discuss and tell them about all day? Is it how to be obedient (law) or is it that Jesus saves sinners (grace)? Of course they need the law, they need to learn to obey, but they need the gospel more. They need to know that Jesus died for sinners like them, for children who can’t obey. That there is hope and redemption in Christ for lost and foolish people like us. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-JRVy3SSGEmo/UAcnt3JJvzI/AAAAAAAAC6A/YBnVvs4-DYA/s1600-h/IMG_8555%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8555" border="0" alt="IMG_8555" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-bjwCworGEj8/UAcnuuo_TlI/AAAAAAAAC6I/dxlZYee8NnI/IMG_8555_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>I could go on and on. It was such a good conference and time away. </p> <p>I sure missed my hubby and kids though. It was so sweet to come home, refreshed and renewed and to be greeted at the door by my four favorite men. Praise God!</p> <p>After we ate dinner together and relaxed a bit, I poured out my heart and experiences and learning to Nick. I told him I didn’t realize how tired and apathetic I had become, how lazy and disheartened I was, or how much I needed The Word of God to dwell in me richly. And by contrast, how uplifted and encouraged and zealous I was again for the Lord and for His work after hearing God’s word preached so faithfully. </p> <p>Nick was so delighted by the new light in my eyes and the encouragement I received, he told me he thought I should get away every year for something like this. And what am I, crazy? I didn’t argue!!! I just gave him a big huge kiss. I don’t know about every year, but just that he wanted to give me this opportunity again was an incredible thought. Especially because my next getaway will involve him watching 4 little boys on his own. </p> <p>Brave and wonderful man of mine. </p> <p> </p> <p>* you can listen to all the lectures from the conference online at <a href="http://www.thegospelcoalition.org/" target="_blank">The Gospel Coalition</a></p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-13058845098399701592012-07-20T16:05:00.000-04:002012-07-20T16:05:00.843-04:00Baby of the House<p>Noah has been the baby of the house for 2+ years now, and let me tell you, he loves his baby status. Loves it. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-gIu8HCUrMgc/UAcoMc-CNDI/AAAAAAAAC6Q/pfne6OAsYvs/s1600-h/IMG_85194.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8519" border="0" alt="IMG_8519" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-qgyfnVQ-k3o/UAcoOEYg9jI/AAAAAAAAC6Y/7NXYZu82KgU/IMG_8519_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>He loves climbing (and fitting!) on mommy and daddy’s laps. He loves snuggling and being held. He loves holding hands. And he LOVES asking for help with everything… even if it’s a skill or a task that he can accomplish on his own. </p> <p>And of course, he’s so darn cute, and he’s only 2, and he’s THE BABY, we’ve let him get away with the extra neediness. But the reality of having another baby has hit us this past week. The pregnancy has flown by and my due date is coming up quickly. And our dear Noah is in for a shot of cold water, as the painful “dethroning” process will hit before we know it.</p> <p>So we’re working at preparing him, gradually, and a little more each week.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Tct4-72lruU/UAcoQII31mI/AAAAAAAAC6g/umvN6Wgym_8/s1600-h/IMG_85184.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8518" border="0" alt="IMG_8518" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-VBgMmR2ByNY/UAcoSLv4olI/AAAAAAAAC6o/kgD-EqhYGAk/IMG_8518_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>We’ve done lots of little things the past few months… like making him walk and instead of being carried. Training him to sleep in a big boy bed instead of his crib (this was actually an effortless transition!!!!!! We can’t believe how well he did. I don’t think he EVER got out of bed, and still doesn’t get out of bed until I come open his door in the morning). Having him sit on his own (instead of on our laps) during church. Encouraging the older two boys to include him in their play (Noah is often left out, since he can’t build with small Legos etc)</p> <p>We’ve also been working at different little skills. Taking off his own shoes and socks (yes, he “really” can’t do that on his own). Cleaning up his toys as part of the routine, instead of “only if the bigger brothers aren’t doing it fast enough.”</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-nSStxrFB-aw/UAcoURahtLI/AAAAAAAAC6w/WvLiz6iSOBw/s1600-h/IMG_85204.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8520" border="0" alt="IMG_8520" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-7EzpjNQcgWc/UAcoVA5CK2I/AAAAAAAAC64/IgK9Cs_SDmk/IMG_8520_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>This past week, I started showing him lots of pictures of baby’s and pointing at my tummy and telling him that we’re having another baby soon. I show him pictures of his brothers as infants, pictures of other baby’s, pictures in books and magazines etc. And do you know what this little bugger says every time he sees a picture of a baby?</p> <p>“That’s Noah!!!”</p> <p>With as much delight and joy over seeing “himself” (not really himself, just a cute little swaddled bundle of baby in the pictures), as you can imagine. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-992LW43ISOE/UAcoWePxqkI/AAAAAAAAC7A/IufM67wRXvw/s1600-h/IMG_85214.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8521" border="0" alt="IMG_8521" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-kAmJnIxHczA/UAcoW8xaCrI/AAAAAAAAC7I/7Ay7xQIpCik/IMG_8521_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Haha! This kid is so stinking smart he KNOWS he’s the baby. And oh my goodness, isn’t that cute? Just makes me want to coddle and cuddle him all the more. So anyway, pray for Noah, and pray for us, that we’ll help prepare him and ease the transition. And that he’ll love his new little brother and that it’ll be a happy occasion when “big” baby meets “little” baby.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-80313093898865102682012-07-18T09:41:00.001-04:002012-07-18T09:47:49.892-04:0030 weeks!<p>So here we are! Thirty weeks into the pregnancy! Woot woot!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-alxFK_k2Qqc/UAa9EIs0frI/AAAAAAAAC4M/o46wdaltadc/s1600-h/IMG_8687%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8687" border="0" alt="IMG_8687" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-5IXGHjXjCB0/UAa9EpBU4DI/AAAAAAAAC4U/Adyh3RC1Vhs/IMG_8687_thumb%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="350" height="480"></a></p> <p>This pregnancy has been really hard on my body and given me more weird symptoms and discomforts than I’ve ever had before. Nausea. Digestion issues. Spider veins. Varicose veins. Mood swings. Splitting fingernails. Insomnia. Curly curly hair. Unwanted weight gain. Extreme exhaustion. Hormone headaches. Irritability. </p> <p>But this pregnancy has also been such a blessing and encouragement and sanctifying event for me. As always, I hope that I’m growing in grace and truth and strength every day, but as often seems the case during pregnancy or other challenging times of the month (eh hem), I put my spiritual walk on hold and say, “I’ll strive be more like Christ when I’m feeling better… or when I lose the extra weight, or when the children are out of the house, or when I’m not so busy and exhausted, or when my husband has made our fortune and we don’t have to work hard for every dollar. Then… then that’s when I’ll really grow in grace, that’s when I’ll put the effort in, but now, during this hard bit of hormones and physical discomfort, let me just give in to the moodiness, the cravings, the irritability, and the desire to NOT. DO. ANYTHING.” </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-1og0R_nGTdg/UAa9HOQDMaI/AAAAAAAAC4s/F6i0ffRarXA/s1600-h/IMG_8742%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8742" border="0" alt="IMG_8742" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-NwwHVHgaz2A/UAa9H12I_9I/AAAAAAAAC40/IS1N45Gmzuk/IMG_8742_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="313" height="480"></a></p> <p>And truth be told, I think many of my pregnancy’s (and monthly cycles!) have been that way. I’ve used them as an excuse to be lazy in both my spiritual and physical health, and to backslide just a weeeeeee bit.</p> <p>So I’m thankful, truly truly thankful for the work that God is doing in me. He hasn’t given me an easy road of effortless pregnancy, or perfect children who sit angelically still and fold the laundry. He hasn’t given me buckets of money, or a husband that doesn’t have to work hard. He hasn’t given me extra hours in my day so that I can “easily” fit in my personal devotions. Instead, he’s given me this.</p> <p>He’s given me challenges and heartaches and physical discomfort. He’s given me sinful children. He’s given me uncertainty. He’s given Nick 80 hours of work each week. He’s given me intense Southern summer heat. He’s given me friends who’ve failed and disappointed. He’s given me stress, burdens, and tears. </p> <p>But He’s also given me joy.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Q5JOpiGnHcs/UAa9FT5VRkI/AAAAAAAAC4c/vSCGrsssCMA/s1600-h/IMG_8739%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8739" border="0" alt="IMG_8739" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Sc-DkFPWEzQ/UAa9GIkivwI/AAAAAAAAC4k/qqgvpqc-sEg/IMG_8739_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="359" height="480"></a></p> <p>True, deep, beautiful unspeakable joy in my life and circumstances. Its not a perfect life. Nor are my dealing and contentment in it. But still. I’m learning. I’m growing. And I’ve seen the Lord do a miraculous work in me, saving me and conforming me to His image—in circumstances that make taking a step back soooo much easier than a step forward. </p> <p>He has forced deeper self examination than I ever wanted or thought I needed, and has helped me come to grips with many hidden sins of my heart. He has poured out grace and mercy and forgiven me when I’ve failed time and time again. He’s given me a husband who’s been incredibly patient, and children who forgive and forget perhaps a bit too quickly. He’s given me sweet baby kicks in utero to mingle with the stretch marks and weight gain. He has given me his sufficient grace.</p> <p>And truly his grace is sufficient. It is all we need to resist, to stand firm on His word, to run the race. And so, I’m running. Running hard… but running on His strength that is made perfect in my weakness.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ZD3BLH5GGWU/UAa9IiJrXVI/AAAAAAAAC48/9qXVpeWECgE/s1600-h/IMG_8688%25255B13%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8688" border="0" alt="IMG_8688" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-_ZVIp2_Qe0M/UAa9JMJWfQI/AAAAAAAAC5E/9pjqAjOfPbY/IMG_8688_thumb%25255B10%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="480"></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p>*a few thoughts on 30 weeks. I’m still gaining more weight that I would like, but because I’m also exercising 4 or 5 days a week, I think I’m staying toned and maybe I don’t look as heavy as the scale indicates?? Not sure, but I’m hopeful. wink wink. I’m measuring 2 weeks bigger (by fundal height) than I am by LMP, so this baby is looking to be another big guy just like his brothers. He is moving and kicking up a storm, making my stomach lurch and causing people to laugh. The boys love feeling him kick. Joshua kisses my tummy before bed each night. We still haven’t decided on a name, but received the advice that we should always name our children something that ends with a vowel, so that the name will carry when we yell. Haha. </p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-50525096162942616732012-07-11T16:17:00.001-04:002012-07-11T17:30:12.412-04:00Hot. Hot. Hot.<p>For the past two weeks, its been over 100 degrees almost every single day. I know the summer time is filled with complaints about the weather, “its so hot”, or “its not hot enough” or whatever. So I won’t sit here and complain about it. The weather is the weather, and God ordains it all, so take it to the Lord if you’ve got a problem.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-vClUbHkHyeQ/T_3e5wC989I/AAAAAAAAC2I/rufGSP-Qg4Y/s1600-h/IMG_8469%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8469" border="0" alt="IMG_8469" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-tHj0FQ-zXew/T_3e6nYlC0I/AAAAAAAAC2Q/k6krY2BHH6I/IMG_8469_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Haha. Its probably good for me to preface this post with the above reality check. God is sovereign. And sovereignly determined that our AC would go out during those weeks of intense heat.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/--pDXHHot01E/T_3e70czvUI/AAAAAAAAC2Y/bxOggqr21Cg/s1600-h/IMG_8495%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8495" border="0" alt="IMG_8495" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-1QiUAHSCeoM/T_3e87XrQqI/AAAAAAAAC2g/BiZ6F95SjLs/IMG_8495_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>At first we thought it was just that the AC couldn’t keep up with the hot temperatures outside. I mean, its hard to keep a big house cool when its 109 or 105 or 102 outside. Not to mention when you have frequent visitors and the house doors are being opened and closed all day long.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Bq4RPpagbQk/T_3fAQJiMHI/AAAAAAAAC2o/UkJFqLwCExY/s1600-h/IMG_8463%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8463" border="0" alt="IMG_8463" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-9VWj3HT3_3c/T_3fCXdcwgI/AAAAAAAAC2w/HHRn62FaVRU/IMG_8463_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Then I thought I was just pregnant. I mean, when you are pregnant you are just hot. It’s hot. Everything is hot. Your body is working 20% harder than any average person, and your thermostat is 20% higher too. (true fact). So when the house just seemed hot, I passed it off as pregnancy woes, and tried to grin and bear it.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-zkOHPPdE8VA/T_3fDsObrRI/AAAAAAAAC24/cBM3RAkbJQs/s1600-h/IMG_8465%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8465" border="0" alt="IMG_8465" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-DNbsJ3nPU98/T_3fE3vuyrI/AAAAAAAAC3A/QcJW7Sociks/IMG_8465_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Nick was the dutiful husband and replaced the air filters, checked for air duct leaks, and even crawled under the house to check the AC units. Our landlord was unfazed by our plight, and reminded us of how hot its been and told us not to worry.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-NjFllHtRB-w/T_3fFqCQeZI/AAAAAAAAC3I/0Plz0SlrpKw/s1600-h/IMG_8467%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8467" border="0" alt="IMG_8467" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-DQJcaHKTpa8/T_3fHZF217I/AAAAAAAAC3Q/hDewdWy43KI/IMG_8467_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>So we did our best. And truly, we were getting a long rather well, keeping the fans running, eating cool meals, and even plugging the crockpot in in the garage instead of the kitchen. We started doing almost all the cooking on the grill and enjoyed lots of cold and refreshing beverages, salads, and sandwiches for dinners. Some of the recipes I tried these past weeks were… oh man, incredible. Grilled pizza with spinach and feta. Mediterranean BBQ chicken salad. Chicken salad sandwiches with sun dried tomatoes and crumbled bacon. Yep, some good stuff.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-g16vZBaMHgY/T_3fKY0pypI/AAAAAAAAC3Y/NGyiOcYg11g/s1600-h/IMG_8490%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8490" border="0" alt="IMG_8490" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-YUD_H9zR4mk/T_3fLONcwFI/AAAAAAAAC3g/nyiO1DTK7-c/IMG_8490_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>But then this last weekend, after having a houseful of guests Sat and Sun, we couldn’t get the house to get below 88 degrees. Monday morning when we woke up, it must have been pushing 90 degrees. In. The. House. So the AC repair man came out, fixed us up, and within the course of 2 hours, our house had dropped 14 degrees. And boy oh boy, does 76 degrees without humidity feel amazing. Oh my word, it feels so good. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/--EfcRWRTzZE/T_3fM0NSC6I/AAAAAAAAC3o/ArBePSLPIj4/s1600-h/IMG_8468%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8468" border="0" alt="IMG_8468" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-dJiasLx4yvg/T_3fOeJaTbI/AAAAAAAAC3w/Fdg3AaT8O08/IMG_8468_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>I hadn’t realized how much the heat had been weighing me down. But it was just exhausting to live in a hot house. And the heat inside brought on all these lovely pregnancy symptoms like swollen ankles and fingers, that wasn’t too cool. I did keep drinking and keep exercising though, and pulled through. And now, in our cool air conditioned house, not a swollen ankle or finger in sight. No sweating just walking around this place. No avoiding coffee because even running the coffee maker in the house made it too hot. And energy!!! Wow!! I have so much more energy. I feel so good and industrious and uplifted. God is good.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Gn_cNjQju68/T_3fPq47SbI/AAAAAAAAC34/GDff1vdgzuE/s1600-h/IMG_8476%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8476" border="0" alt="IMG_8476" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-qFnYm5B7-Ac/T_3fQVziLtI/AAAAAAAAC4A/j8tCT_wi2kU/IMG_8476_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>We’re really thankful for these modern conveniences. God is so good, and we have a new appreciation for air conditioning to say the least. I also have a new appreciation for this enormous wading pool in the back yard. It takes about 2 hours to blow up… okay so it just feels that when you’re standing out in 100+ degree weather blowing your lungs out because you loaned your air pump to someone months ago. It really only took about 20 minutes… with both Nick and I blowing. Haha.</p> <p>After blowing it up, I told the boys I was going to get in the pool too. Josh about started crying, “There will be NO room left if you sit in there!!!”</p> <p>Yes. I guess I’m that big already. 30 week pregnancy pictures to come. I think.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-54779707203099810752012-07-03T15:43:00.001-04:002012-07-03T15:45:49.839-04:00Long Forgotten<p>Perhaps you’ve already figured out that I’ve forgotten how to blog.</p> <p>Forgotten how to write. Forgotten how to take pictures. Forgotten how to capture memories and moments and all the things in between. </p> <p>I’ve forgotten how to think and process… and worse still… how to collect my thoughts and put them on paper.</p> <p>Blogging was, and has always been, a great avenue for me to meditate and process life. It’s helped me work through the jumbled events and activities around me and to sort, sift, and plunge through the minutes and hours that make up my day. It helped me to make sense, to think BIG, and to wonder out loud about how each moment fits into eternity.</p> <p>A few months ago (okay, so maybe its been more than a few months since I’ve really sat down and blogged), I would have told you about my day today. About how I woke up to my alarm at 6am… and then proceeded to hit snooze 5 times just because I could. Just because I didn’t have to get up early, because today was a day off from providing childcare for two little boys of a single dad in our church. </p> <p>I would have told you that I began my day, as I’ve begun almost every day for the last 18 months, by exercising to provide the needed energy and strength to chase, discipline, train, and love my boys. Not to mention the strength needed for a very draining pregnancy, during a very busy stage in life.</p> <p> <img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8409" border="0" alt="IMG_8409" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-cJ7TWLlE3WA/T_NLRaT9whI/AAAAAAAAC0I/X48945_0Gek/IMG_8409_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></p> <p>I might even have bragged about the fact that I’m still exercising at least 4 days a week (and mowing the lawn on the 5th day!!), despite the fact that I’m round and pregnant and in the last trimester. I know, can you believe that? It seems like that would be something worth bragging about a long time ago, certainly something to write a lengthy blog post about. Only, I haven’t even had the desire to brag to blogdom about such things. But if I did, I’d tell you about Jillian Michaels and her Ripped in 30 program that includes circuit training with strength/weight lifting, cardio, and abs. And how its brutal, but wonderful. How it works every muscle group in my body, but still only takes 30 minutes a day. And I’d stress the fact that I’m still doing lunges, push ups, and high knee running in my third trimester!!! Okay, so I really <em>am</em> bragging now and just casually managed to sneak that in to a blog post about my inability to blog. Nice work, Kath.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-9gx0L0fHLls/T_NLSAxxgNI/AAAAAAAAC0Q/yB4mC38JCV4/s1600-h/IMG_8410%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8410" border="0" alt="IMG_8410" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-oECYgxd4lug/T_NLS-o1DOI/AAAAAAAAC0Y/7NOUndBq628/IMG_8410_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Anyway… in addition to my morning work outs, I’d tell you how I manage to keep the kids quiet so I can work out. How I put my exercise DVD in the computer, and put in a movie for the boys on the TV behind me. My boys are early risers since we started watching the extra little boys, so there’s no more exercising in peace and quite before the kids get up. Which is sort of a bummer, but sort of good too. The early bird gets the worm, right? This morning, the kids chose Sid the Science kid from the stack of library DVD’s that we checked out this week. While I exercised, they learned about friction, drag, and force… and loved it. Nice work, Kids.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-p4lnEgOd-HM/T_NLTv6G9GI/AAAAAAAAC0g/9nC0GhK2kpw/s1600-h/IMG_8422%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8422" border="0" alt="IMG_8422" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Upkfv1L7li4/T_NLUVJp95I/AAAAAAAAC0o/va451q9mF3I/IMG_8422_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a></p> <p>After working out, I’d tell you that we all get dressed and fresh and ready for the day. No small (or short!!) feat when you’re dealing with 5 little boys under the age of 5. Only of course, this morning it was only 3 little boys which is sooooo much easier. (wink wink). I’d tell you how we sit down for breakfast, usually cereal and milk with assorted fresh fruit. I’d tell you how I made my own vanilla latte (okay, a poor mans latte, with strong coffee and steamed milk sweetened with vanilla syrup) and you’d smile because you’d know that for the first 5 months of this pregnancy I couldn’t drink coffee without being sick. I’d describe the joy and pleasure I feel to be able to enjoy a bit of coffee now and then, and you’d laugh at how I enjoyed a steaming cup of joe even with the temperature being 95 degrees. Because I’d also tell you, that after the heat wave this past week of 105-109 degrees every day, that a mere 95 degrees feels like a reprieve. And it really does. Maybe you have to live in the South, or round and pregnant, to understand that, but its true. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-t_RZD0NpPyI/T_NLVSoLJSI/AAAAAAAAC0w/36_BkVqL6f0/s1600-h/IMG_8420%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8420" border="0" alt="IMG_8420" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-XBBJF-3XhJI/T_NLWf7b9bI/AAAAAAAAC04/3QxPYuwu5us/IMG_8420_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>I’d probably tell you how I eat shredded wheat or some other high fiber cereal for most breakfasts (granola etc), and how yesterday I worked out really hard, drank my homemade latte, and forgot to eat breakfast and ended up nearly passing out while grocery shopping at the commissary. Low blood sugar no doubt after not eating anything substantial for 4 hours even with a workout. I’d tell you that I needed to hold onto the shopping cart to stand up, and that my arms were shaking and my face was flushed, but even still I refused to open the container of roasted almonds and carton of chocolate milk (that I decided where the best food choices to right my blurry vision)until we’d paid for them. And you’d cringe and console and remind me “EAT YOUR BREAKFAST, PREGNANT LADY!!” And I’d agree. Because it was really scary. What if I’d been driving? Snacks are now in my purse. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Hy32NBPUrTY/T_NLXQQnnrI/AAAAAAAAC1A/oDxURz-W8LY/s1600-h/IMG_8424%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8424" border="0" alt="IMG_8424" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-OdIFB5rjoBk/T_NLYIrYizI/AAAAAAAAC1I/0KfENUc22Tc/IMG_8424_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>As a result, I’d make a point of telling you that I ate a good breakfast this morning so as not to have a repeat of yesterday. I’d have told you that I was distracted from food yesterday because I was so focused on our “morning devotions with mom” (i.e. me). I’d tell you that the boys and I had previously been reading through Catherine Vos’s A Childs Story Book, but needed a change of pace (and perhaps a shorter lesson so as to keep the attention spans of the extra little boys I watch who aren’t used to sitting still for long periods) so we switched to reading <a href="http://www.bookdepository.com/365-Great-Bible-Stories-Ron-MacKenzie/9781845505400" target="_blank">365 Great Bible Stories: The Good News of Jesus from Genesis to Revelation, by Carine McKenzie</a>. Even though we just started it, I’d tell you how much I like this book already-- it has no pictures of Christ in it, which is hard to come by for the Reformed people like me who prefer children’s books that way. </p> <p>I’d tell you about our morning devotions with mom routine, and how we’re working on the Children’s Catechism, and that Noah (2 years old) can answer the first 10 questions with minimal assistance. I’d tell you about the lazy rut we got stuck in, and how we’re breaking out of it to memorize Scripture verses each morning again. Today we are memorizing John 1:1, and the kids can already rattle it off. Minds like sponges, I’d tell you, so don’t waste these early years.<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-qnVRahfikzo/T_NLZJhj32I/AAAAAAAAC1Q/OpPq-bCCA_E/s1600-h/IMG_8440%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8440" border="0" alt="IMG_8440" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-6AdBb1RdGvM/T_NLaESRA2I/AAAAAAAAC1Y/E0r8bc4bIX8/IMG_8440_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>After breakfast and before the kids run off, I’d tell you about our library book reading time on the couch each morning. About how each child picks a few books from the library basket and how we all snuggle together to read. I’d tell you, how we read half fiction and half non-fiction and how I’ve discovered that my boys prefer non-fiction to anything else. They want and like to hear about what’s real. Oh sure, they love a good fairy tale, but they’d almost always choose a book about steam engines or space craft or tornadoes or firefighters over “something that’s not even true, Mom” (to quote Isaiah). I’d probably tell you how Noah took a fancy to a fictional book about a scary snorklum, and now runs around screaming about being scared, and about the snorklum coming to get him. Silly kid. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-w3tYrWSeP7I/T_NLbWWtQzI/AAAAAAAAC1g/W3Y2r7IF65s/s1600-h/IMG_8438%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8438" border="0" alt="IMG_8438" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-pTlL99wEqlI/T_NLcfgGY2I/AAAAAAAAC1o/dA-h5VhxNhA/IMG_8438_thumb%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="602" height="480"></a></p> <p>I’d tell you how the boys are loving our library’s summer reading program and how they run to keep track of each 20 minutes of reading they either do themselves or have read to them. I’d tell you how Joshua loves reading, and how Isaiah loves flash cards. And how Noah just likes snuggling, pointing, and shouting about different things on the pages. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-6wH-rZmIRSE/T_NLduXgRkI/AAAAAAAAC1w/jCzXFEVrXz8/s1600-h/IMG_8430%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8430" border="0" alt="IMG_8430" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ah9-U6NxTx4/T_NLenjVMKI/AAAAAAAAC14/ZsP3ZeSOwpA/IMG_8430_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>And that’s probably all I would tell you about in a real blog post, but I’m sure I’d have some fitting stories and anecdotes, some nice pictures and some brilliant insights. Or at least I’d write it beautifully, with the words that captivated and inspired so that you felt like you were really there. </p> <p>Not like this blog post. </p> <p>Which is a cheap shot sort of blog post.</p> <p>But even still, its my weak attempt at getting back to blogging.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-90115823557281488772012-06-14T06:54:00.001-04:002012-06-14T06:54:30.620-04:00Spring Rain<p>I’ve always loved the rain. </p> <p>Truly. </p> <p>I know that growing up in the Pacific Northwest plays a big part in that. It was always raining there and most locals learn to love it. And love it, I did. I spent nearly 20 years of my life in the beautiful state of Washington and came to love the drizzles, the steady drip-drop that soothed me to sleep, and most of all the torrential downpours.</p> <p>I think it must be in my children’s blood too, though they have never lived anywhere close to WA. </p> <p>Earlier this week, we had a huge rain shower that lasted for almost an hour. Torrential rain. Which is really the only way that it rains here in the Southeast. Hard. </p> <p>We had just made it home from running errands as the torrents began. (side note: I’m so thankful for our garage!!!) Isaiah took off running into the house and shouted behind him, “Mom, can I get my rain coat and go play outside?” The other boys echoed his words. Joshua declared, “I’d like to wear my red rain coat and carry my orange umbrella from IKEA.” (haha). Noah yelped out, “Raincoat too, please Mommy?” </p> <p>And then off they went. Or… off <em>we</em> went. You’d think I could refrain from jumping in a few puddles myself, but no. I couldn’t. I had to be out there with them.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-TL4PzpHsJms/T9nCvItO1rI/AAAAAAAACyk/8pvjoUeUFMI/s1600-h/IMG_8374%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8374" border="0" alt="IMG_8374" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-1aq4Im6a8YI/T9nCvwCI8pI/AAAAAAAACys/gWz2YlGW-yg/IMG_8374_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-3GzKg1Hb_s0/T9nCwxFB8ZI/AAAAAAAACy0/Ty-M_MPR0jM/s1600-h/IMG_8375%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8375" border="0" alt="IMG_8375" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-9xLTOOQKoE4/T9nCxv54_RI/AAAAAAAACy8/RqGt8rXuyV8/IMG_8375_thumb%25255B11%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-cJqRQ9BxSDY/T9nCytPprCI/AAAAAAAACzE/ZDCs-PWJpbY/s1600-h/IMG_8376%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8376" border="0" alt="IMG_8376" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-W5SQsxsNgK8/T9nCzQPokSI/AAAAAAAACzM/_c8L8U_9HeE/IMG_8376_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-z-wv1DZP6lw/T9nC0TwU1eI/AAAAAAAACzU/ECh9xlynNbI/s1600-h/IMG_8377%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8377" border="0" alt="IMG_8377" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Ns0xp4P7h68/T9nC1NUS7-I/AAAAAAAACzc/rrJUl0R2TK4/IMG_8377_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Seeing their delight in the rain took me back. </p> <p>Way back. </p> <p>And I felt so nostalgic as the pure and refreshing Spring rain poured out upon the earth. Watering the grass, my garden, and our hearts.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-nQ7ZA8DhowQ/T9nC2XSfwZI/AAAAAAAACzk/D_YWxTb2y-c/s1600-h/IMG_8378%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8378" border="0" alt="IMG_8378" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-qr1LUugdrss/T9nC3OhIE3I/AAAAAAAACzs/QGZQmfM_r6A/IMG_8378_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-dLMPBvRVfRQ/T9nC4fT2JZI/AAAAAAAACz0/lvX1ib0Aoeg/s1600-h/IMG_8373%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8373" border="0" alt="IMG_8373" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-YFPj0f4K5t8/T9nC5R1hx6I/AAAAAAAACz8/WBLWEm7eWtA/IMG_8373_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>I was reminded of a childhood verse that I loved dearly, and that would often come to mind during rain showers as a kid. I remember I found the verse while following my first “read through the Bible” in a year schedule as a young girl. </p> <p>Hosea 6:3</p> <blockquote> <p align="center">Let us know; <sup></sup>let us press on to know the Lord;<br><sup></sup>his going out is sure as the dawn;<br>he will come to us <sup></sup>as the showers,<br><sup></sup>as the spring rains that water the earth.”</p></blockquote> <p> </p> <p>Isn’t that a beauty? In the beginning verses of the chapter, Hosea prophesies of Christ’s return, and urges us to flee to Christ, and then finishes with verse three—calling us to know Him, to press on, because the Lord will come as surely as the spring rain. He will pour out Himself upon us so that we are covered in entirety.</p> <p>Just like this beautiful refreshing spring rain that watered us today. </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p>* thanks for the “rain coats,” Mom! We didn’t know several years back when you bought them that having all three, in different colors, would come in handy! But boy oh boy, my boys were glad to each have a firefighter rain coat of there own today. Score!!</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-89296877755286158702012-06-06T11:20:00.001-04:002012-06-06T11:20:22.248-04:00A trip to the Beach<p>To celebrate Memorial Day this year, we headed out to the beach.Okay, so really we weren’t being all that patriotic, we just took advantage of the day off work. Haha. I’ve been wanting to go to the beach, as have the boys, so this was the perfect opportunity.</p> <p>The boys got ready in their swim suits and then while I decided if I could still pull off a swimsuit in pregnant style (which, apparently, I can! Phew!) and packed the rest of the gear, I asked the boys to run out to the backyard to gather a few beach toys.</p> <p>I packed the cooler with drinks and snacks, and collected beach towels etc, and then went out to supervise the boys. Of course, I was expecting they’d gathered shovels and buckets for the beach, but what was I thinking??? When I went outside, I discovered a great collection three yellow dump trucks, an excavator, and a bulldozer or two all neatly arranged by the minivan for transport to the beach. </p> <p>Perhaps needless to say, I laughed out loud. </p> <p>And Nick laughed out loud too when he got home from his breakfast meeting. There is just something amusing and endearing in the earnest looks from our boys and the assortment of wheels and diggers. Boys will be boys. And their parents? Well, we love for our boys to be boys too. Oh boy, do we love their boyishness. So without hesitation, we loaded up an entire giant bucket full of their vehicles, however awkward and bulky it would be to carry, and transported them to the beach as requested. </p> <p>It was SO worth it.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ycsvFFQdzfE/T891CB27PNI/AAAAAAAACxA/dYDWXC9M4yA/s1600-h/080%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="080" border="0" alt="080" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-YsQwihmjRac/T891C0mKDoI/AAAAAAAACxI/OLa47rEyUGk/080_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="360" height="480"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-KHOsPiT2Zuk/T891EQxRUGI/AAAAAAAACxQ/tVVgj4cWY0k/s1600-h/076%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="076" border="0" alt="076" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-3mXi0pM8390/T891FKQVhLI/AAAAAAAACxY/a6VtIMlo6Qw/076_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="360" height="480"></a></p> <p>The boys were the talk of the town. Or the talk of the beach. Though it was my youngest who spent the most time playing with the trucks. The older two passed the time splashing in the waves with Dad. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-YaUuB9gO9V0/T891GSCJdkI/AAAAAAAACxg/Rmlk4siDDNY/s1600-h/077%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="077" border="0" alt="077" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-DKodSDzjEXk/T891HGE0KQI/AAAAAAAACxo/svozEMNk1zA/077_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="360" height="480"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ttrNBiT7zNM/T891HywDgTI/AAAAAAAACxw/iTTkpXgp0Tk/s1600-h/062%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="062" border="0" alt="062" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-MhsagMU6eTg/T891IcQ2viI/AAAAAAAACx4/TjuAmSVRQlI/062_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="360" height="480"></a></p> <p>Tropical Storm Burl had made its way up the coast and had just passed by and left clear beautiful weather, lots of shells and still some residual waves and wind. We had driven through heavy rain and wind en route, and wondered what the weather would look like on the coast, but it was absolutely gorgeous. 85 degrees and sunny. Breezy. Really the perfect day at the beach.</p> <p>We all played and relaxed contentedly. Nick and I even got a few chapters of beach reading in. When does that ever happen?</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/--yWeI6ZrCKQ/T891JwxzUdI/AAAAAAAACyA/b0qqOV9PAOs/s1600-h/070%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="070" border="0" alt="070" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-RVO2p4sRIUw/T891L7lJLRI/AAAAAAAACyI/vvoTWspKz5E/070_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="360" height="480"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-JYwfwySnvD8/T891MvyDRgI/AAAAAAAACyQ/8dsnS7SBnrI/s1600-h/086%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="086" border="0" alt="086" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-994QiK_joa8/T891NdXeNGI/AAAAAAAACyY/EDRa4_TXXes/086_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="599" height="376"></a></p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-2972074365005849002012-05-23T11:15:00.001-04:002012-05-23T11:15:41.907-04:00New Do and Week 22<p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-I8LxFxV4v3o/T7z_GmojNwI/AAAAAAAACws/Mn_w3pNUA40/s1600-h/IMG_8339%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8339" border="0" alt="IMG_8339" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-EyLlIWAMnQs/T7z_HBSRFgI/AAAAAAAACw0/Raz0B0edQgo/IMG_8339_thumb%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="325" height="480"></a></p> <p>The news of the next boy on the way, and the reminder that it is going to be another hot Southern summer, prompted me to get my long hair chopped off and restyled to make me feel super feminine and super cool (as in, not hot).</p> <p>I like it a lot. I was finding that with my long hair, I was always tying it back in a pony tail or messy bun, and only on rare occasions was I taking the time to blow dry and straighten or to mousse, scrunch and bobby pin. </p> <p>This shorter style will be so much easier to manage and gives me a fresh new look too, don’t you think?. </p> <p>As I said, I like it a lot.</p> <p>And I like 22 weeks a lot too. Feeling great and energetic. Feeling slim, even though I’ve put on 10lbs. Feeling happy and delighted over the frequent kicks and somersaults of my little guy. Feeling overjoyed at God’s blessings and the gift of pregnancy. Feeling content and thankful with my brood of boys. </p> <p>Oh boy, a new do and week 22… it’s a great place to be.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-23586039462135535002012-05-16T16:36:00.001-04:002012-05-16T21:48:35.551-04:00Mud City<p>Remember <a href="http://www.exceedingabundantly320.blogspot.com/2011/03/herb-garden.html" target="_blank">last years blog post about preparing my garden with the help of my little boys</a>? And the hose that got turned on, and the garden bed that turned into the worlds best construction site? And the mother (named me) who let her boys dig and plunge in the beautiful muddy wonderland they’d created?</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-4_oIUs_RpY4/T7QPZHCAWrI/AAAAAAAACt4/lc32ZuoGe8o/s1600-h/778%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="778" border="0" alt="778" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-NXbBuZk_VBg/T7QPaUi_bnI/AAAAAAAACuA/y55TCrWuzv8/778_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Well, this years garden started out much the same way. In fact, aside from the age lapse in my boys, and that Noah is out there helping (instead of napping like last year), you’d have a déjà vu kind of feeling.</p> <p>Take a look:</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-afRFd-RNKjs/T7QPbnW6wKI/AAAAAAAACuI/B0vZ0e1gCt4/s1600-h/IMG_82735.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8273" border="0" alt="IMG_8273" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-nUN8IgJIAS0/T7QPcQpjMGI/AAAAAAAACuQ/aoxMi7D_o7c/IMG_8273_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-7EpfKZ2-F1Y/T7QPeMVqjQI/AAAAAAAACuY/Vih9MFZ33EE/s1600-h/IMG_82685.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8268" border="0" alt="IMG_8268" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-bXQF3Vv5Zi4/T7QPeyF6UII/AAAAAAAACug/Gdiv11gjLpw/IMG_8268_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-hpPNcm2d7ZU/T7QPf_7697I/AAAAAAAACuo/EcVHbyvtFZk/s1600-h/IMG_8262%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8262" border="0" alt="IMG_8262" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-axR_naGea04/T7QPgw-SnMI/AAAAAAAACuw/thcLXdajsYM/IMG_8262_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="433" height="631"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-yGVVTLP5KNE/T7QPh5euJOI/AAAAAAAACu4/9l2s7mxVdxY/s1600-h/IMG_8269.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8269" border="0" alt="IMG_8269" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-v5OZY3AS6AI/T7QPiwXG0gI/AAAAAAAACvA/YFCuDJV8i74/IMG_8269_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="461" height="592"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-gRwW8kWR_fU/T7QPlFrHuwI/AAAAAAAACvI/UVndGIzfW4Q/s1600-h/IMG_8270.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8270" border="0" alt="IMG_8270" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-91RQ04pR3AY/T7QPnCcxpzI/AAAAAAAACvQ/wKBN7MMTT1Y/IMG_8270_thumb%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="600" height="480"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-9dtV9P76WOA/T7QPoK5WGSI/AAAAAAAACvY/zH-vIamTK2A/s1600-h/IMG_8259%25255B9%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8259" border="0" alt="IMG_8259" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Jfl44vsxQqc/T7QPpOBbjUI/AAAAAAAACvg/9_itLer_KSk/IMG_8259_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="416" height="655"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-KBDie3CMDgk/T7QPp0gTLzI/AAAAAAAACvo/jOFhWSyr3JY/s1600-h/IMG_8280%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8280" border="0" alt="IMG_8280" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-lcshXDiTIQE/T7QPqs7sdDI/AAAAAAAACvw/Pp927T_WWl4/IMG_8280_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a></p> <p>Oh what fun we had preparing the garden bed once again this year! After we turned over the soil and mixed in my organic (homemade) compost, the boys and I headed to the garden store, and bought organic seeds together. We had a great time choosing what to plant. I let the boys each choose one package of seeds of their choice. </p> <p>Isaiah picked pumpkins. This was the only seed pack that we got a non-organic hybrid seed—because Isaiah read on the package that they can grow up to 300lbs in size, and… well, what five year old (or what homeschooling mother of three!!) can resist something that incredible? I expect we’ll be out there measuring every day). </p> <p>Joshua picked “waterlemons.” This is what he still calls watermelons, so cute, its become a family joke and even though he knows the right name, we all laugh and smile a little and call them waterlemons too.</p> <p>And Noah chose bush green beans. Probably not so much because he likes green beans, though he does, but more because that was the package his oldest brother recommended. Haha, such is the life of the youngest one! </p> <p>Because I’m the mom, I chose the most seeds and picked out bush peas, zucchini, cucumbers, carrots, spinach, asparagus, and tomatoes. For herbs, I chose basil, parsley, chives and dill. The cilantro, rosemary and oregano from last year are still growing strong, so no need to plant them.</p> <p>We got home mixed in some extra manure and peat moss, with the help of some great gardening tools (i.e. dump trucks and front end loaders) and we got our seeds planted in beautiful rows.</p> <p>And a little water, a little sun, and waaaa lahhhh!!</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-2PmZRhKsIkI/T7QPs_B7s-I/AAAAAAAACv4/b3sKwpy6L58/s1600-h/IMG_82744.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8274" border="0" alt="IMG_8274" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-9iCCFqq4kdc/T7QPt-Hn_BI/AAAAAAAACwA/E329dn21hFc/IMG_8274_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-AwmJiZ4B0H4/T7QPwcfgbxI/AAAAAAAACwI/UV4E6gwaVt4/s1600-h/IMG_82754.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8275" border="0" alt="IMG_8275" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Jrw8HjUVSqc/T7QPxrP4DYI/AAAAAAAACwQ/5x6gEO7Z58A/IMG_8275_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/--g8_J_BYHHA/T7QP0QmshJI/AAAAAAAACwY/dJ6TFDQW-Ok/s1600-h/IMG_82764.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8276" border="0" alt="IMG_8276" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-CUwMJYaMQcM/T7QP1t9xIPI/AAAAAAAACwg/IIn9Rp-Mnow/IMG_8276_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>Actually this picture is from a month ago (yes, I’m that behind on life again!!) and my plants are twice as many and twice as big now. The South is such a perfect place to garden, its amazing how life thrives in this climate. This years garden is just as big and luscious as last years. </p> <p>Won’t it be fun to show the pictures of next years garden? Not just the mud and dump trucks and the thriving garden, but with FOUR (!!!!!!!!!!!) little boys digging and preparing the soil for me?</p> <p>Yes! I’m a proud mama to be of four little boys. We had an ultrasound this past week and there was NO doubt about this little ones gender. Haha! We are SO excited, words can’t express. I have found myself feeling very overwhelmed this week… not in a bad or oppressive way, but in an awed and inspired kind of way… to think that God should shine this blessing upon our family and give us the privilege of raising another son in the fear and admonition of the Lord. Wow. </p> <p>Four boys with an exclamation point is right. An amazing incredible gift that we can’t stop smiling about.</p> <p>It’ll be so hard to wait.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-57147214384343800852012-05-07T19:05:00.001-04:002012-05-16T16:40:36.711-04:00Oooooooh la la<p>My hubby’s birthday is tomorrow, so I decided to get off my lazy hindquarters and actually start whipping up masterpieces again. Oh my its been too long since I felt like eating/cooking.</p> <p>Carrot cake is Nick’s favorite, so I made these from lovely little carrot cake cupcakes (with carrot, smashed pineapple, walnuts and no raisins). And then topped them with the most delicious possible cream cheese frosting you can imagine.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-CeVwMXPmzV8/T6hVNTuXiRI/AAAAAAAACtU/weDZR8hc7Pc/s1600-h/IMG_8330%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8330" border="0" alt="IMG_8330" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-UDnT9R3yOps/T6hVOMEwqiI/AAAAAAAACtc/x76i1_wucyc/IMG_8330_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>It’s a <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/sturdy-whipped-cream-frosting/detail.aspx" target="_blank">whipped cream cream cheese frosting.</a> Light, sweet, melt in your mouth deliciousness. Its got that beautiful rich cream cheese ring to it, but none of the heaviness. Its literally as light as whipped cream, only it holds its shape and could be used by the expert piper (obviously, not me, haha) </p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-OsK8fvUyuwA/T6hVO1ueoqI/AAAAAAAACtk/_alk3kUBdcs/s1600-h/IMG_8325%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8325" border="0" alt="IMG_8325" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-rrCRDO6Nhok/T6hVQj5SYlI/AAAAAAAACts/5rhNzIH49Uw/IMG_8325_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="427" height="640"></a> <p>I’ve never tasted anything so good. And I’m hoping my hubby hasn’t either.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-22091466619878621002012-04-24T15:23:00.001-04:002012-04-24T15:29:06.016-04:00The Baby Bump<p>Well here it is. </p> <p>My sweet little 18-week-baby-bump that’s just barely there, just barely sitting on top of my waistline. </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-oqN2MlPsHAA/T5b9wO1srPI/AAAAAAAACtE/fb9CirzjjfQ/s1600-h/IMG_8251%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8251" border="0" alt="IMG_8251" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-AYl282lbb58/T5b9xGU0_tI/AAAAAAAACtM/gobWPqEoyHI/IMG_8251_thumb%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="290" height="480"></a></p> <p>Though I love this little round belly of mine. And love being able to feel the hardness of the uterine muscles and to have the knowledge of the baby stretching and growing inside. </p> <p>I also feel…</p> <p>Awkward.</p> <p>Oh, I’m not denying that this baby bump is cute and sweet to look at—but let me tell you, it’s a challenge to be a pregnant gal at this stage in the pregnancy. While my friends know I’m pregnant, all the strangers, cashiers, librarians, waitresses, and everyone else is caught.</p> <p>Stuck.</p> <p>Trapped. </p> <p>Wondering, gauging, guessing, looking… at my stomach trying to determine if this is pregnancy flab or just flab, whether that’s a pregnant belly staring them down, or just the result of too many chocolate cream pies. Whether its really a baby bump or just a few extra pounds making that oh so awkward muffin top. </p> <p>To make matters more awkward, I haven’t pulled out my maternity clothes in earnest yet. The maternity styles can sometimes be a good indicator of where that tummy came from, but I’m in the awkward phase of being too small for maternity clothes, but too big for most of my regular clothes.</p> <p>I get lots of leading questions from perfect strangers and mild acquaintances… “Look at your three little kids, do you think you’ll have any more?” and “My shirts are too tight also” and my personal favorite, “Are you still exercising?”</p> <p>Haha.</p> <p>So I try to make things better for all of us by either sucking in my stomach while I’m out in public (just have to be careful not to pass out!! haha), or to take care to rub my belly frequently (afterall, that’s what pregnant women do, right???).</p> <p>I’m not sure if it helps or not. But oh well. That’s life at 18 weeks pregnant.</p> <p>Awkward.</p> <p>The funny thing is… that in about 4 months when the baby bump is more of a baby beachball, and I’m waddling around in the sweltering Southern heat, I’m sure I’ll be preferring this early awkwardness… to the awkwardness of people whispering “she is going to pop” “she looks like an overripe watermelon” “have you ever seen a shirt stretch so far”etc. </p> <p>Yeah, funny how life is. </p> <p>For now, I’m trying my best to enjoy this little baby bump, to take in the sweet little baby movements, and to delight in my ability to move around with ease. My morning sickness has finally let up. Yes, it lasted almost a full 18 weeks, though this past week I had only one sick day, and the week before only two… so I think it lessened right about 16 weeks though not gone entirely yet. The morning sickness lasted a full month longer than it ever did with my other three children.</p> <p>Not much fun, though I had prayed for morning sickness!!!! And boy, did God give it to me!! He is good!! After miscarrying a sweet little baby in October, this pregnancy I really needed that daily confirmation that morning sickness brings—that there is life and growth within. </p> <p>So I am thankful for it, though at many times I struggled to be content with my constant stomach upset, and extreme fatigue---especially during perhaps the most stressful time in our lives yet (January through March, the last few months of Nick’s Company Command, my time as FRG Leader with meetings & events & orienting & training galore). But God gave us all the grace to make it through that busy time with little sleep and lots of emergency bathroom stops. </p> <p>So here we are. At 18 weeks and feeling good. </p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7531853562085611326.post-239139873398684372012-04-11T17:35:00.000-04:002012-04-11T18:13:23.174-04:00Birthday Boy: Noah edition<p>Our baby boy turned TWO this week. Yes, I’m actually posting pictures within days of taking them. I know. Wow.</p> <p>After having a busy week away in Washington D.C. and then coming home and going directly on a church camping trip, we decided to take it easy and forego a birthday party.</p> <p>Noah’s young, and he won’t remember. I think.</p> <p>Thomas the Train was the theme of most of his presents this year. Our little (big!) Noah is obsessed with trains and there is nothing he likes better than to drive them around. I seriously think his first word (after Mama, Dada, and No) were: Choo-choo TRAIN!!</p> <p>So Noah received several Thomas t-shirts, puzzles, trains, and an extra set of tracks. He loved them.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-nqkTsq8BJ_g/T4X-Hv78SoI/AAAAAAAACqA/Pi4_CJb28zE/s1600-h/IMG_82113.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8211" border="0" alt="IMG_8211" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ofBEk-koVKI/T4X-IrqvQRI/AAAAAAAACqI/MP4zPYJEsc0/IMG_8211_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-vcSJExxBGig/T4X-JSBuz0I/AAAAAAAACqQ/HcSy8iDcU5Q/s1600-h/IMG_82123.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8212" border="0" alt="IMG_8212" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-9pRU35d69Ks/T4X-KG7xS0I/AAAAAAAACqY/G51VhVgGKEI/IMG_8212_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-LeUrpXskjgs/T4X-LY1OwaI/AAAAAAAACqg/vABQ5ayKkuA/s1600-h/IMG_82143.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8214" border="0" alt="IMG_8214" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-YAV3oMT2IiE/T4X-L1bXF-I/AAAAAAAACqo/1VTKgO_KFns/IMG_8214_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-UamDe9FaMVA/T4X-NCMJjvI/AAAAAAAACqw/dlrYCpJuKzA/s1600-h/IMG_82193.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8219" border="0" alt="IMG_8219" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-A1p4pPzK1Fo/T4X-ONGPlkI/AAAAAAAACq4/bsd911d45UM/IMG_8219_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>The funny thing was that Noah would have been completely content with his showering of gifts. But the older boys weren’t.</p> <p>In fact, Isaiah and Joshua actually started crying when we told them we weren’t doing a party this year. Neither of them could imagine Noah having a birthday without a party. They were completely distraught (yes, tears and all) at the thought of their youngest brother not having a “real birthday.”</p> <p>Being a birthday person, I completely understood. And Nick had Easter Monday off, and it was gorgeously sunny and warm… so we bit the bullet and in the course of a few hours we pulled a party together for our two year old. </p> <p>I texted & called 5 or 10 close friends/families figuring that most would not be able to attend a last minute birthday party. We were delighted and amazed when <em>everyone</em> could come. Haha. Well, two families didn’t make it, but we still had 35 guests and 20+ children attending a last minute BBQ. Not a poor showing by any means.</p> <p>Normally I would plan and prepare way ahead for an event this size, but this time, supermom really came out working with what I had. I went to the freezer and found one package of frozen chicken breast, one package of pork chops, one package of top sirloin and it hit me. Shish Ka Bobs. Threw together a quick marinade and chopped up squash, green pepper, onion and pineapple that we had in the fridge and bad-a-bing. Main course, done. I also found frozen chick peas and pita bread for hummus (and I only have one small freezer connected to my fridge, so this was quite the jackpot). I pulled out a package of quinoa in the pantry and had fresh tomatoes and herbs in the garden for taboule. Score. So before we knew it (and without shopping) we had piles of food put together for a great Mediterranean feast. (okay, so we did go to the store for trifle ingredients (raspberry poke cake, vanilla pudding, and whipped cream layered in a trifle bowl) and also cooked up 30+ hotdogs for the kids, and all our friends brought side dishes).</p> <p>So Noah had his birthday party and loved every minute of it.</p> <p>He was a bit afraid of the flames on the cake, but his family was glad to help out.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-zMB2C3Xavkw/T4X-PaeDSuI/AAAAAAAACrA/mqVNPDdhM7U/s1600-h/IMG_82023.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8202" border="0" alt="IMG_8202" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-LYMjDsrypuI/T4X-QNSX7DI/AAAAAAAACrI/dM6VI_wFyGI/IMG_8202_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-W6NBlCl3-fY/T4X-RbAhh0I/AAAAAAAACrQ/JDcbXx4qJ-8/s1600-h/IMG_82053.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8205" border="0" alt="IMG_8205" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Yo42sOU3qkI/T4X-SO2vZfI/AAAAAAAACrY/Q0WqXBrx4lk/IMG_8205_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-qvvlnQGogjM/T4X-UeXXtWI/AAAAAAAACrg/2i8krN08nY0/s1600-h/IMG_82093.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8209" border="0" alt="IMG_8209" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-LgwBdojHAAw/T4X-VZEDLFI/AAAAAAAACro/KDjqnBfnPu4/IMG_8209_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>And a great time was had by all. So thankful for my little big boy.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Ok-t_j-u_wI/T4X-X_kgEkI/AAAAAAAACsA/pj0ASmsi2xY/s1600-h/IMG_8232%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8232" border="0" alt="IMG_8232" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-wBagM4bR5O4/T4X-YkTQ6NI/AAAAAAAACsI/Hhm9kgJ9t4E/IMG_8232_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-kNQ2aKHUzRQ/T4X-WZdAiGI/AAAAAAAACrw/Z20q5SmpKT4/s1600-h/IMG_8226%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8226" border="0" alt="IMG_8226" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-j4AAmiKTZvU/T4X-W63_rnI/AAAAAAAACr4/SQu5lSaexDg/IMG_8226_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Jkz9PwZYlCg/T4X-Zj01aqI/AAAAAAAACsQ/GI-Ou92zhnc/s1600-h/IMG_8230%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8230" border="0" alt="IMG_8230" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-l0piEpXwgaw/T4X-aGNKCrI/AAAAAAAACsY/yB2AwFM1AL0/IMG_8230_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ks2C-4RiyKY/T4X-bNEywnI/AAAAAAAACsg/V2T2Y1gBbBE/s1600-h/IMG_8233%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_8233" border="0" alt="IMG_8233" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-EgHB2i5BCnc/T4X-bzOYsmI/AAAAAAAACso/HrAr_QxJ4uI/IMG_8233_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="640" height="427"></a></p> <p>God is good.</p> <p> </p> <p>**For two year old remembrances. Noah loves trains, trucks, and any kind of vehicle. He loves listening to stories and choosing books at the library (he’s quite popular among the librarians). His vocabulary is budding and blossoming and he speaks in (in)complete sentences: “Snack, please, Mommy” and the like. It’s so sweet. He cut his 2 year old molars the week before he turned two. Yes, all 4 of them all at once. Not really a very happy kid while we vacationed in D.C last week. But oh well, such is life when you are in the process of growing teeth. Noah loves to pray, and is especially mindful to thank God for his brothers. It touches my heart to hear him ask God to ’give my sints. (forgive my sins). Noah is a little sweetheart and loves everyone once he’s had a chance to warm up. But he loves his mama the most. And because this is my blog I can say that. Haha.</p> Kathrynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00405446358997495320noreply@blogger.com1