tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18630852279029659502024-03-13T16:28:14.510-04:00Life at Goodness Grows FarmNotes on the daily life with the folks at Goodness Grows Farm. Keep up with our crazy adventures on our fabulous 40 acres and beyond!Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.comBlogger442125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-77638299809914267012018-05-18T14:41:00.002-04:002018-05-18T15:35:40.823-04:00Did five years pass that quickly?Oh my! I can't believe it has been almost five years since I last published on this blog. To say things got busy is an understatement! Previously at Goodness Grows Farm:<br />
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We fostered two beautiful children for 18 months and they were adopted by friends of ours and are flourishing. We get to be a part of their life and could not be happier with how wonderful the situation turned out. <br />
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We had a baby! SURPRISE! Hattie Rose was born September 2014 and we can hardly believe she is almost four. That wish Maggie made at Cinderella's Castle in Disney World came true. She got a baby sister and Hattie is the prayer we never knew we needed answered. <br />
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(Maggie just after wishing for a baby sister).</div>
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Mommy and Hattie on the night she was born.</div>
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Two weeks after Hattie was born, Erik's hand got slammed between a gate and a metal latch when a cow kicked the trailer gate and it busted the knuckle in his left hand. He made it through the emergency room fine, but two days later when we met with the orthopedic surgeon, I knew things were dire when the surgeon looked at me and said, "Did he eat anything for breakfast today?" When I said, "No," he told us to go immediately to the hospital because Erik had to have surgery. Turns out he had compartment syndrome and the surgeon feared it was already too late and Erik was going to lose his hand. Dr. Pfaeffle is a miracle worker because not only did Erik not lose his hand, he made a full recovery! He has a small plate holding his knuckle in place, but he can do everything he did before the accident and doesn't even have any pain in his hand ever. I spent a good 4 months driving Erik to physical therapy appointments, sitting in the back of the van nursing a newborn, and praying that everything be OK. Most of that time is a blur to me, but I remember two things vividly from that time. The first is the drive to the hospital after the surgeon told us to get there fast. I remember rubbing my hand on Erik's leg telling him over and over it would be OK, knowing he was thinking there was a possibility he would lose his hand, while I sat there afraid I might lose my husband. The second vivid memory was after Erik was released from the hospital and he was on the couch with his hand in this swiss-cheese foam elevator/protector thing. I had just nursed Hattie and in the past, when I would nurse for the final time at night, Erik would burp the babies and hold them until they fell asleep. He was lying on his side on the couch and I had laid her next to him but she was squirmy and started to slip. I reached over and settled her and Erik got so emotional and looked at me and said, "What if I can never hold her again?" It broke my heart. Sometimes when I think back to that time, it seems unreal. I'm not sure how we managed it all like we did - and had it been any other time in our lives, it probably would have been much worse. Thankfully, Erik's employer was very generous with the workman's compensation program and all of our needs were met while he was off work. <br />
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That being said, just shy of a year after his accident, his employer "no longer needed" Erik's farming skills so he found himself without a job in the middle of summer when he had already let most of his landscaping clients go. I remember I was in the camper getting it cleaned up and stocked for the Farm Show that would start the following week, and Erik arrived home really early for a Thursday afternoon. He walked into the camper and said, "Well, the good news is you won't be alone next week for the Farm Show." But, losing the security of that job opened up a huge new opportunity for him and three years later, Erik is sourcing and producing meat products to sell to some of the best restaurants in Pittsburgh! It is really amazing how much his business has grown in three years. <br />
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Erik and our friend, Jeff, splitting a tiki drink at one of our favorite restaurants in Pittsburgh. </div>
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Things were finally going smoothly again until Will's birthday, 2015, when Whitaker's appendix ruptured and we spent 10 days in Children's Hospital Pittsburgh having surgery and recovering. Thankfully, we haven't had any more medical problems since. <br />
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Those have been our major life happenings in the past five years but life has been full of growing up, farming, camping and most importantly, love. <br />
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Hattie's Birthday 2017</div>
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Hattie swimming at the end of summer</div>
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The big kids camp out on the trampoline at the end of summer 2016.</div>
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Hattie gets a big girl bed 2017</div>
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Maggie was "Little Miss Butler Farm Show"</div>
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Hattie and Molly enjoy a camping trip in Westfield.</div>
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Walker played 7th grade football for one year.</div>
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The kids go camping every summer with Mimi and their cousins.</div>
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Mags and I get to have a special girls night out.</div>
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Hattie and Jingles become good friends</div>
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Walker takes wood shop and builds a tool box.</div>
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Hattie can't leave me alone and brings all her stuff into the bathroom to be with me.</div>
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Maggie got a horse in 2015 and has been training ever since. She even had the opportunity to have her horse give rides to special needs children to highlight the importance of equine therapy with children.</div>
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A family walk on the beach at our favorite camping spot in New York.</div>
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Celebrating my grandfather's 91st birthday</div>
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Handsome Willie J 2017</div>
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A split photo - Erik as a child on the left, Hattie on the right.</div>
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Whitaker's 7th birthday present, Duke, sleeping with Hattie at the Farm Show.</div>
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Walker got his first buck on our farm! We had it mounted and it hangs in his room.</div>
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Hattie started Children's Hour</div>
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The boys decided to play soccer and we've officially become a die hard soccer family. Erik coaches Whit's team and Will and Walker play for a traveling team. They will try out for a club team this month and Walker is trying out for the high school team in August.</div>
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Halloween 2018</div>
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Walker at the 4H leadership conference in 2018</div>
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Our first litter of "Jack-Auses" Whit's first puppy, Duke.</div>
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We had a "Everything but a pig roast" party in October. The kids created a haunted path and we literally cooked everything but pig. We even had squirrel that Walker shot.</div>
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Whitaker finally dressed up for the 100th day of school like he was 100 year old.</div>
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The cousins get together to pick out Nana's Christmas tree Thanksgiving weekend 2017</div>
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I captured Santa putting the presents under our tree 2017!</div>
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The Schwalmish must have been very, very good in 2017</div>
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Celebrating Walker's 14th birthday at Butler Brew Works where the chef created a special meal just for us!</div>
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Hattie at Christmas 2017</div>
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Her hair was getting too long and strangely so I finally cut it. Such a sweet little bob. 2018 - first haircut.</div>
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Hattie's first Easter Egg Hunt, 2018</div>
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Will plays indoor soccer through the winter months 2018</div>
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Whitaker had to play in the 3rd and 4th grade league in Basketball this year and excelled for a 2nd grader!</div>
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Walker decided to play rec soccer for KASA in Fall 2018. What he lacks in foot skills he makes up for in speed.</div>
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The teachers went on strike in March so we took advantage of a nice day and went to the zoo.</div>
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At the Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado 2018</div>
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Stretching Hattie across the "Four Corners" 2018</div>
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Erik and I at Colorado National Monument 2018</div>
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At Brynn's wedding 2018</div>
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Brynn's wedding 2018</div>
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Brynn's wedding 2018</div>
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Walker consoles Hattie after the Four Corners incident.</div>
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The Walker side of the family, Penrose Colorado 2018</div>
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Hattie's first time on an airplane.</div>
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Our Family over the last five years: </div>
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2013 -at Disney World</div>
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2014 - At Pymatuning camping just two weeks after Erik's first surgery! Erik had a pic line and I had to give him IV antibiotics two times a day! </div>
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2015 Thanksgiving in my hometown</div>
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2016 at my grandfather's 90th birthday</div>
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2017 the day of the solar eclipse we went to the Pittsburgh Zoo </div>
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2018 Our trip to Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico </div>
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-52345764547290414462013-06-16T14:09:00.005-04:002013-06-16T14:09:59.210-04:00Happy Father's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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They say that nothing makes a woman love a man more than seeing him love her children. Here is the love story my husband has written for me over the last nine years. He is an amazing man and has filled my heart with love in every way imaginable. </div>
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HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>A good father is one of the most unsung, unpraised, unnoticed and yet one of the most valuable assets in our society</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i> ~ </i>Billy Graham</span></div>
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The birth of this little critter made you a Father.</div>
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The birth of this little girl made you a daddy.</div>
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The birth of this little boy has challenged every parenting skill you possess.</div>
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The birth of this little blue-eyed boy completed our little family. </div>
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This was probably the biggest parenting mistake you've made in your 9 years of being a dad. (I still haven't quite forgiven you for it!)</div>
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This is one of the most amazing things you've ever done. </div>
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But each of these babies love you more than words can say. You've been an amazing husband, father and role model. Our lives wouldn't be complete without you. We can't thank you enough for all that you do to keep us safe and HAPPY. You dream big and somehow manage to always come through in ways that can only be described as "Erik." We love you always and forever!</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">"Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> ~ Charles Swindoll</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"And anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf is welcoming me" </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Matthew 18:5</span></div>
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<i style="color: #232323; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><a class="mainquote" href="http://www.searchquotes.com/quotation/Any_man_can_help_create_a_child_but_it_takes_a_real_man_to_love%2C_cherish_and_raise_that_child._Happy/502354/" style="color: #232323; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Any man can help create a child but it takes a real man to love, cherish and raise that child. Happy Father's Day to all the amazing Daddy's out there!!"><span class="firstword" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Any</span> man can help create a child but it takes a real man to love, cherish and raise that child. </a></i></div>
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<i> Having kids doesn't make you a father . . . RAISING them does. </i></div>
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<i>Even Superman had Foster Parents!</i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i>"Life affords no greater responsibility, no greater privilege, than the raising of the next generation."</i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i>C. Everett Koop</i></b></span></div>
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-83047214693727136742013-04-03T15:22:00.001-04:002013-04-03T15:23:47.819-04:00The Last Six MonthsThe last six months have been a whirl wind. I know I say that every post, but the last six months more than usual. <br />
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October 11, 2012, we welcomed two wee-ones (aka foster children) to our home for what we believed was to be a short period of time. "Short period of time" in our world was under two months.<br />
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A week shy of six months later the wee-ones are still with us. <br />
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Wee boy was about 22 months when he joined us. Wee-girl was almost 10 months.<br />
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It has been a blessing and a curse this juggling, jumping through hoops, a JOLT to our reality.<br />
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I'll tell you what. It has been HARD. It's probably the hardest thing we've ever had to do. Going from DINK's (Double Income No Kids) to Single Income, One Kid was easy. <br />
One kid to two - a breeze. <br />
Two to three - a little harder, but still, not that much of a challenge. <br />
Three to Four - wait - there's a 4th Schwalm? <br />
Four kids to SIX kids, effectively giving us a set of two year old twin boys and then a baby girl just 12 months younger? CRAZY HARD!! <br />
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It has challenged every fiber of my role as mother. Every decision I make throughout the day is met with two considerations:<br />
1) How is this going to affect the wee-ones?<br />
2) How is this going to affect my biological children?<br />
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Some days it feels like these two questions apply to something as simple as waking up in the morning especially when all six wake up at the same time. Who gets to get out of bed first, who gets their milk first, who gets fed first? AHHHH! From there we have tons of other factors to consider in making decisions as well, but those two are the first in importance.<br />
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A lot of people say to me, <i>"You guys are amazing!"</i> or variations of this. I've learned that these types of compliments are either a matter of fact statement based on an inaccurate belief (I will address how un-amazing we are later on) or it is kind of like the <i>"Bless Your Heart"</i> statement common in the south, which despite the words, is not actually a compliment. This statement is used to imply <i>"YOU GUYS ARE SERIOUSLY CRAZY!!!"</i> To which I'd like to say, <i><b>WHAT PART OF THE LAST 11 YEARS OF OUR LIVES HAVE LEAD YOU TO BELIEVE WE ARE ANYTHING BUT CRAZY?</b></i><br />
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We also get a lot of "I just don't think I could do it" and "How do you give them back?" To which, there really isn't an answer. I don't know how we will give them back or send them on. They are part of our family now. Each day we supposedly get closer to the day they will return to their parents and I'm not really sure how I'm going to do it. I know it's our job, we only signed on to care for them temporarily, but it's really hard to want to give them back after taking care of their every single need for six months. The reality is that we'll probably have them at least three more months. We're to the point now that I worry as much about sending them home as I do about how I'm going to deal with the heart break of our children when we have to say goodbye. Not everyone is cut out to Foster. Heck, half the time I'm not sure WE are cut out to be a Foster Family! I don't know how we do it, we just do it, and believe me, it is not done well. My house is constantly a mess. I truly have something in every corner of my house and nothing is where it belongs. It is overwhelming, exhausting and most days I think I am going to tear my hair out or at least poke out my ear drums. It's like any surprise life event though - you don't know how you are going to handle it until you <i>handle</i> it. There are things that people can do even if they can't physically foster kids - although, I would be remiss if I didn't encourage everyone to think about it and even just give it a try. <a href="http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com/2011/05/you-dont-need-to-adopt-to-care-for.html" target="_blank">Here is a great article</a>.<br />
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It's a really great blog post and it got me thinking about the things I would say if someone asked me, so here's my list on what I would suggest to people if they want to help a Foster or pre-adoptive family.<br />
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<b>PRAY </b>for us. And let us know you are praying for us. Each day is a a delicate balance of meeting each child's needs and it is encouraging to know people are out there praying we are making the right decisions. <i>Because we pretty much doubt every decision we make all day long.</i> A kind word, a Facebook post, or even a text to show us you care, to remind us that other people are caring about us and these wee-ones sometimes is the fuel we need to make it through the next minute.<br />
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<b>Make a meal</b> - most foster families have at least one, but most often, multiple service providers in their homes or in the case of older children, are running those kids to some sort of therapy, visitation, or other court mandated service. Add to that any extra-curricular activities you are trying to introduce to your foster children and maintain for your own biological children, the goal of homecooked meals every night quickly becomes a distant memory. Despite me being a stay at home mom, despite my very best intentions of planning ahead, cooking ahead, etc., there are some weeks that mac n cheese or spaghetti is our meal . . . on multiple nights . . .in the same week. A Foster family will never turn down a meal to save them some time or to just have a breather. <br />
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<b>Don't stop being a friend</b> - Despite every best attempt at maintaining a "normal" life, the fact of the matter is that a foster family's life is completely turned upside down. The schedule you used to maintain of coffee with girlfriends, date night, or even simple trips to the grocery store become impossible in the first months as you adjust to this new life. Two months into our foster care journey, we had been invited to a friends annual Christmas party. We were looking forward to it like crazy. We'd get to see so many people, talk, relax, <i>have fun! </i>Except wee-boy had a melt down. He wouldn't play with the other kids, he wouldn't stop crying, he was miserable. And so was I. I was frustrated that I couldn't sooth him, angry at him for choosing that night to have his first meltdown, and then angry at myself for being angry at him. It was awful and in utter exhaustion, frustration and self-preservation, I chose to gather up all of the troops and leave. My kids were devastated, my husband frustrated and I was D-O-N-E. It was my first social event in six weeks and I desperately needed to be an adult that night. After that experience, I was hesitant to do anything with friends with children in tow. It's not only uncomfortable for me, but I can see sometimes it is uncomfortable for our friends. We had reached a stage of life with our friend group where most of us had kids who were pretty much self-sufficient at gatherings. We would basically put them into the play room and not pay them any attention unless someone came to us bleeding - and even then, the blood had to be something that couldn't be contained with a band aid. Now, I find myself declining invitations because it honestly is too much to juggle at social events. I'm still changing diapers, wiping noses, and making sure no one is sticking their fingers in a light socket or pulling down the drapes. I know it is a life that Erik and I have chosen so I am scared to infringe on other people no matter how many <i>"Bring them alongs"</i> and <i>"It's no problem"</i> I hear. But <b>PLEASE</b> don't stop asking me to come play with you. No matter how many times I turn you down or back out. And invite yourself over to my house. Even when I say the house is a mess, and the million other excuses I come up with. Because my house <i>is</i> a mess, the kids are still in their pajamas, and well, let's face it, it's not going to change for a LONG, LONG time!<br />
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<b>Offer To Do Something like:</b><br />
<i><b>Babysit</b></i> - it's hard to find sitters for six kids. It's even harder on the wallet. Harder yet to find someone who can sit for you during the work/school day. Pick a day and tell me you're going to watch my kids so I can go get my hair cut, or go to the grocery store, or to let me clean my house for two hours without having to put out fires, or to fold and put away laundry (my mother would be aghast if she saw how often clothes don't get put away). Offer to watch our kids while Erik and I have a date night. Offer to watch just the wee-ones while our family has a date night. <br />
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<i><b>Run to the Store</b> -</i> are you headed to the store? Call me and see if there's anything I could use. Chances are I'm in need of milk.<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Offer to come to my house and help me do something - </i>the laundry is never ending. The clothes always need put away. Offer to come and help me with transitioning the seasonal clothes. My dishes are never done, my beds never made, my floors rarely swept. Forget about spring cleaning! A simple call with a <i>"I know you need help with something, let me!"</i> could change everything about my day.<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donate-</i> Call a Foster/Adoptive family and see if there is anything you have that they can use. From an old bed or dresser, to clothes and toys, chances are there is a family out there in need of it. If you don't know a foster or adoptive family, call around to local social service agencies. Call your Child Welfare services department (usually CYS, CYFS), local psychiatric centers or family service agencies may have clients or will know of other agencies where you can donate your stuff. My county has a Duffle Bag Project where they accept new duffle bags/suit cases which they fill with gently used and new clothing and new toiletries and distribute them to foster families when a new placement occurs. The duffle bag project was invaluable to my family as we addressed the needs of our new Foster Children. <br />
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Obviously different Foster and adoptive families have different needs, but I encourage you to check with those folks to see where they need help. Because not everyone is able or capable of offering Foster care services, but anything you can do to help a foster family is helping the entire system. <br />
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<i>Easter Morning</i></div>
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<i>We managed to find the hidden Easter baskets, eat a poptart breakfast</i></div>
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<i>and get six kids (and ourselves) dressed in our Easter finest for church! </i></div>
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<i>That's a very good day!</i></div>
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-5869517196119468062012-10-05T17:02:00.000-04:002012-10-05T17:02:31.461-04:00Odds 'n EndsThings have been busy around here since school started. Not as busy as some folks probably are, but busy for our family. Highlights:<br />
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School started.<br />
We went to Seneca Hills for an end of summer camping trip Labor Day weekend.<br />
I volunteered to coordinate a Bible Study at church on Friday mornings.<br />
Erik and I started teaching Jr. High Sunday School on Sunday's.<br />
I volunteered for Secretary of the PTO and Chairperson for the Back to School Picnic and Open House.<br />
Lessons at the YMCA started back up. <br />
After the 1st week of lessons at the Y, I wondered why I committed to doing two nights a week at the Y.<br />
Walker started 4H.<br />
Walker registered for Fall Flag Football at the YMCA.<br />
Walker registered for Winter Basketball at the elementary school.<br />
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The kids love school, love their teachers and are doing well. I have said several times already that if I had been privy to what I know now last year, I wouldn't have fretted nearly as much about Walker and his reading/English/language arts tests as I did. The boy hasn't been bringing ANYthing home to study in the past four weeks and he's got all A's and a few B's. He can memorize poems and recites them in front of the class to earn a prize. He still cannot grasp the "take your backpack off, put relevant paperwork on my desk, hang your backpack up and take the lunch box to the kitchen" rule we have in effect, but I'll settle for the good grades.<br />
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It does, however, beg the question, <i>"If he can get these grades without studying, what could he do if he applied himself?"</i><br />
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So, I've become a wholehearted supporter of the philosophy that some kids aren't ready developmentally to grasp the concepts that are being taught with our school's curriculum (a whole other story in itself) right now. I will no longer fret over Cs, Ds, and the occasional F. It's funny because a few weeks ago, Walker had brought home a math paper that they had done in class that done ALL WRONG and his teacher asked me to review it with him. That meant I rewrote all of the problems and made him do the whole thing over. Double digit subtraction. <br />
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For a few hours, he <i>HATED ME</i> and everything about me and school was <i>STUPID!</i><br />
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So I gave him a break and a little while later I explained to him that double digit addition and subtraction was all I ever expected him to be able to do in math. That while I appreciated that there are jobs and careers that demand higher math skills, I would never demand more than this.<br />
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That, and along with an explanation of why this basic math is important, (<i>"If Daddy has 54 bales of hay and he sells 37 of them, how much hay do we have left to feed the goats for the winter?") </i>seemed to be the game changer for him and now he often comes in the door saying he completed his homework on the bus. I check it to be sure, but so far, everything is right!<br />
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Maggie is your typical first grade girl. <b>LOVES </b>school, <b>LOVES</b> her teacher, and well, her only complaint daily is that I have screwed up something about her lunch. Maggie's teacher is absolutely lovely and I know I am really going to enjoy this year.</div>
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Our one stumbling block with Maggie is that she is not good at memorizing. She has a list of 35 High Frequency Words that she has to memorize. HFW are words that you can't sound out with phonics. Words like "where, here, was, the" etc. As a result, she stumbles over some of the words frequently and has been referred to the Title 1 Program at school. It's a weird system, because each week, Maggie is given her spelling words and most often can spell all 10 of the words correctly the first day she is given the list. These words are usually decodeable using phonics, so from that we have learned Maggie is an auditory learner. She was afraid to start Title 1 at first, but her teacher for that class is also lovely and <i>really</i> has a heart for helping children learn to read with fluency. </div>
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Me with the kids on the first day of school</div>
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We chose not to send Willie to preschool this year for several reasons, and while some days I really wish I had, most days, it is a lot of fun having him around. I'm honestly not sure what I'm going to do with Whitaker next year when Will goes to school they have become such good playmates. Will and Whit go to story hour at the local library on Wednesdays and we do preschool lessons here at the house together when Whit takes a nap. </div>
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My crowning achievement for our preschool sessions. While studying the letter A, we made an Alligator craft by cutting out a big letter A, turning it sideways like this < and adding big eyes and sharp teeth to show that A is for Alligator.</div>
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When Erik got home that night, Will couldn't wait to show Erik his craft and he said in his proudest, most excited voice, <i>"Look Daddy! A is for <b>CROCODILE!"</b></i></div>
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SO, future Kindergarten teacher, you will have me to thank for Will's mad Kindergarten skills. </div>
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Will on the day of his first Story Time at the Library. He dressed for the occasion. He doesn't understand that wearing a contrasting patterned tie actually goes against the popular belief that wearing a tie classes up any event. Silly redneck. Let's ignore his hand position as well for now. </div>
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Whitaker is a constant joy to our lives. An acquaintence that saw us recently and had heard of our Foster Parenting adventures looked at our little blond haired, blue eyed Whit and asked if he was one of our foster children! Anyone around us long enough would be able to tell he's ALL SCHWALM from the tractor noises and his affinity for anything with a motor. Ask Whit his favorite thing to do and he'll say, "Cack-er Pull!" and make the appropriate noises. He also loves "Monkey cucks" (monster trucks) and that is what 95% of his day is filled doing. The other 5% is eating and sleeping - and occasionally potty training. If there's one thing I learned potty training my previous children is that my boys will go on the potty when they are ready and, honestly, Whittie is my baby so there's no rush in my eyes before he's three. Say what you will, but once he's out of diapers, there are no more diapers for this family, so I'm not going to rush making my baby NOT be a baby anymore. <br />
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I am pretty sure he won't go to Kindergarten in a diaper. I know that because I'm on the PTO and I know our school doesn't allow kids in diapers to attend Kindergarten. </div>
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<i> </i> Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-34428718613716877102012-09-13T11:19:00.001-04:002012-09-13T11:20:27.415-04:00Getting OldToday I left for the YMCA early to get in a workout before the boys had their Wiggle Giggle Smile class. I got that workout in, took the boys to class and was feeling good. It was only 10:15 and I was on my way home to get some stuff accomplished before heading back out this afternoon to do some shopping for a PTO event at our school with a friend. <br />
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My mind was wandering, the sun was shining and I got to thinking about my Papa, who turned 86 yesterday. You might have heard that earlier this week, the oldest person in the world (or maybe just the USA) turned 116. That made her 30 years older than my grandfather so I thought, <i>"Well, Papa's got another 30 years in him then." </i> My mind wandered some more thinking about how vast an age difference 30 years was. Then I started to do some more complicated math thinking about how old I was and how old that would have made Papa when I was born. <br />
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Thank goodness Walker has been reviewing double digit addition and subtraction this week so I was easily able to figure out that<br />
86<br />
<u>-36</u><br />
50<br />
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FIFTY!!! My Papa was only 50 when I was born.<br />
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I am only 14 years away from 50.<br />
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When I am 50, my third born will graduate high school.<br />
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My YOUNGEST CHILD will not graduate high school until I am 52!<br />
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Papa still goes into work every day. <br />
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I retired eight years ago.<br />
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Now, you tell me who is the old fart?<br />
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Happy Birthday to the BEST PAPA IN THE WORLD!<br />
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One of the trips to Disney World Papa took us on - to stay at the Grand Floridian.</div>
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Four years ago with the youngest Lezzer grandkids and the great-grand children. The four oldest granddaughters are missing from the photo - and we had two more great-grandsons born since then!</div>
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Papa and Maggie on June 30 of this year at my sister's wedding. </div>
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-79057071768795869732012-08-28T21:36:00.000-04:002012-08-28T21:36:14.889-04:00Our Second AdventureI'm sure one of these days, I will lose count of how many adventures in Foster Care we've had. It would be a blessing if I couldn't. It would mean that there were no more children in need of Foster care. What a beautiful thought.<br />
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I was a little gun shy when we first got the call. The children were the same ages as two of our children and I was a little hesitant on how smoothly it would go. But, after hearing that it was just for respite, Friday through Monday, I knew we would be able to handle it.<br />
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The little ones were so sweet. We really had no difficulty with them other than minor "You Can't Do That" stuff regarding what is and isn't acceptable around a house they've never been to before. It was as if we had allowed two friends come over for an extended weekend sleep over. <br />
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Except when I kissed my kids in bed at night and prayed with them all, I knew that those two "extras" were suffering from the pain of the unknown. The pain of having been shuffled from their parents to a foster home to our home. The fear of what is going to happen in Court. The anxiety of missing their mama and daddy. My heart was breaking and aching over it all. My inadequacies in being able to help them felt insignificant against the system they have entered in. <br />
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On Saturday, we were able to attend a birthday party for dear friends of ours to celebrate their middle two children who were born 3 years apart, but nearly the same day. They graciously and lovingly said, "No Problem!" when I told them it was going to be <i>Schwalm's plus two</i>. While all of the kids swam, rode the giant slip n slide and participated in fun-filled party games, I had a chance to share some of the heartache I had been feeling with my friends. They listened to me, supported me and lovingly kept me (us . . .them) in their thoughts and prayers. So much so that my friend, LS, forwarded me <a href="http://rachelheldevans.com/sky-woman-valor?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+RachelHeldEvans+%28Rachel+Held+Evans+-+Blog%29&fb_source=message" target="_blank">this link </a>. It so captures what I feel as a Foster Mom and as just regular Momma. <br />
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Our visitors had to leave yesterday morning and we've noted that the house has been seemingly absurdly quiet-<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> a different kind of quiet these last two days as we ended our summer. The sadness at saying goodbye to two little ones who we could selfishly see potential in being able to help <i>so much</i> is only enhanced by the sadness of saying <i>"goodbye"</i> to summer and sending two of my little critters off to school (all day) tomorrow. </span>Knowing that LS thought of me when she read this was a bolster to my confidence and gave me hope. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was a boost in my confidence that yes, we might be able to do something good . . . that the pain I feel is evidence that we are in fact loving well. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Blessings to all of you sending your little critters off to school. I will rejoice and cry with you!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>If you are interested in exploring Foster Care, please feel free to contact me to talk about it. I am not sure if I have any of the answers you have, but I would love to talk to you about it. </i></span><br />
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-27308297251586538382012-08-08T21:41:00.002-04:002012-08-08T21:41:30.114-04:002012 Butler Farm ShowIt's Farm Show week around here and that means we're in the midst of end of summer crazy.<br />
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Only three weeks until school starts.<br />
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Insert very sad face here.<br />
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We're living it up at the Farm Show this week.<br />
(Our goat display at the Goat Tent)<br />
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We've got our pop up camper there this year. Not nearly as nice as the digs we had last year thanks to our generous friends, Courtney and Fred, but still much better than camping out in a tent.<br />
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These photos are from our camping trip to NY last week, but you get the gist. Our camper is really not all that bad - a few minor issues here and there in terms of worn canvas (the camper is almost 20 years old) but we have air conditioning, beds and we're not in a tent. <br />
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This is the view from the "master bedroom" looking into the kids "room" and kitchen. We hae a sink in our camper, but we don't hook it up. We're thinking of ways we can reconfigure the counter to fit more and eliminate the sink. It would be nice, but we have hook ups to have an outdoor sink/shower so we're looking into fixing that up. That way I don't have to worry about someone (Whit) accidentally running water and splashing it everywhere. The kids room is a queen size bed and all three big kids fit on it just fine. The couch to the left pulls out and turns into a single bed, which Walker prefers to sleep on, but with Whitaker, it's easier to ban the big kids to their own room and isolate Whit in the dinette.<br />
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Here's Whittie's bed. We have a removeable table, so we pull it out, put the back bench cushions in the leg hole and make Whit a little bed on the floor. This works best if we block him in with stuff on the bench tops so he can't climb out and if we block the foot of the bed with a cooler or bin. Poor guy just has to be contained! But he loves his bed and he gets very upset when one of the other kids tries to lie on his bed.<br />
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Here's the master bedroom. Can you believe that to the right, there used to be a shower? I have no idea how it worked as previous owners tore it out. If we decide to keep the camper, we're going to figure out a way to make a cabinet to store more stuff. <br />
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For the deal we got on the trailer, it was a perfect buy for us. It's not new or fancy, but it works for our family and I don't have to worry about my kids breaking something in the "new" camper. Sure, the upholstery and curtains are a little outdated, but for us it's perfect.<br />
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Which brings us to the Farm Show. <br />
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Maggie won Grand Champion with this goat.<br />
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Walker won Grand Champion for his goat Carmella.<br />
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Willie didn't pay enough attention to showing to really do anything in the show arena, however, he did a great job at the pedal tractor pulls and the bike races. <br />
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He won first place in the pedal tractor pull. With all of these videos, please excuse my cheering and coughing. <br />
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Maggie put forth her best effort but didn't quite make it.<br />
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Walker did his best too, but another kid almost made 30 feet!<br />
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Erik even entered Whitaker in the contest for the "under 3" category. I think Whittie was the only child under three competing!</div>
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Today at the bike races, Willie was only required to pedal from the starting line to the first "jump." He not only did that, but pedaled right over the jump and around the rest of the track. Almost before any of the other contestants reached the jump.<br />
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Maggie tried really hard too but as you can see in the video, she got a little wobbly after the first turn and went from the top 3 to 4th place. I'm so proud of her for holding on and keeping her balance and finishing the race.<br />
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Finally, poor Walker was doing so great, but as he made the turn for the second lap, another kid came up from behind him and they collided. Walker slid across the track but his dad helped him and we all cheered him on to keep going. The embarasment of the crash made him more cautious and I think he had just enough of his mom in him that the embarrassment hurt him more than the wounds. I was so proud of him for getting back up and finishing the race. When it was all over, Willie (who totally knew he won his race) told Walker he would give Walker his gold medal since he was so brave.<br />
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For some reason, I cannot get Walker's video to upload right now but I am so proud of what a good sport he was today. I'm proud of my kids for lots of things, but watching them be so brave and do things I don't think I would have been brave enough to do when I was their age makes me so happy.<br />
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Check back later to see if I manage to get Walker's video posted.Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-19325373352057042162012-07-20T17:00:00.004-04:002012-07-20T17:00:27.459-04:00Saying Goodbye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We said goodbye to baby girl today.</div>
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It wasn't easy. Not that I thought it would be, but I thought that with her only being in our home for four days, it wouldn't be as bad.</div>
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I was wrong.</div>
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It started last night during her middle of the night feeding. I jumped up at her first whimper and as I picked her up, I (doubtfully) wondered if her bios will do the same. I know that my efforts were exaggerated this week. After all, she was only with us for a week, so it's easy to jump at the first whimper in the middle of the night when you're only doing it for a few days. I know the reality is that even the best mother in the world experiences the overwhelming weariness as the months of jumping up in the middle of the night wear on. The exhaustion just overcomes you and you don't always jump at the first whimper. Sometimes you lie there <i>praying</i> that whimper will be a solitary event and everyone will roll over and go back to sleep for another few hours. </div>
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But as I jumped out of bed and lifted that little bundle into my arms and sniffed her baby scented head, I wondered.</div>
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I suppose I will wonder a lot in the next hours, days, weeks, years.</div>
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Wonder if her bios will keep it together and be able to do right by her. </div>
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I know it's cynical, but after my years of professional experience in this child welfare world, I know that love isn't enough. Everyone wants to believe that it is, but the truth is, the type of love we humans are capable of giving is not enough. We're not created to be selfless. That's why parenting is a sacrifice. Parenting is constantly choosing selflessness. It's a minute by minute choice. Some people are just not capable of making those choices. It's not always their fault - my professional experience tells me all of this. But my heart wonders. </div>
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Her bios may love her, but will they be able to parent her the way she deserves to be parented? I selfishly put our (Erik and I) parenting skills on a pedestal as if we are perfect. I know that we are not, but I do what a cynic does - I judge.</div>
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It's not fair. But nothing about this situation is fair. Even knowing what the results were going to be going into this situation, I still find it all unfair. But that's me being selfish. </div>
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Maggie, Whitaker and I drop baby girl off at the agency so she can be transported to her bios. The caseworkers tell me that both bios completed their drug screen and everything came back negative, so they are drug free.</div>
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Cynic shouts in my head, <b><i>FOR HOW LONG?????</i></b></div>
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I nod my head and say, "That's good." </div>
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With nothing else to say, I tell the caseworkers, "Thanks." I'm not really sure what that means, but somehow it seemed the only thing to say and I grab my children's hands and we walk out the door. I try not to sniffle as the tears well up in my eyes - to put on a brave face for Maggie. </div>
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We drive home and I stop and get them a donut hoping that the sweet treat will distract them from what we'll see when we walk through the doors at home.</div>
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This empty bouncy seat that just a few hours ago snuggled that precious pink bundle with the little rosebud mouth. Maggie sitting next to her slightly pushing on the wire frame so that baby girl will feel that comforting motion.</div>
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The little leopard print nightie she wore to bed last night, that still smells like her. Still draped over the pack n play waiting to be washed in a load of baby things. Except it won't get that chance. We have no other baby things to wash, so it will go in with all of our regular clothes. Once it's washed, it won't be <i>her</i> nightie anymore - it will just be another baby nightie. Thinking that makes me tear up. <br />
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The basket of folded girl things and the little bunny hat with matching slippers. Everything had been washed and folded to be used by her. Most of it never touched because she wasn't with us long enough.<br />
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The swaddler that I bought on a whim just for her. The <i><b>only</b></i> purchase I made just for her. <br />
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The pacifier I found randomly last week. The irony of finding it just a day after we had been called about possibly taking a baby girl. She didn't really care for it, but it's still on the green side table just in case.<br />
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Of all things, a bag full of tiny, dirty baby diapers. </div>
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And her last bottle sitting by the sink waiting to be washed. <br />
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Such simple, little, and insignificant things, yet their presence is overwhelming. </div>
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As we walk through the house and see these things, the house suddenly feels empty. Maggie looks at the empty bouncy seat and we look at each other and tears fall. Maggie tells me that she misses the baby. I tell her that I miss baby too. I remind Maggie that this is what it will be like every time and if she thinks it's too hard for her heart, we will stop doing it. She tells me that it is just sad for today. I tell her how proud I am of her and her brothers for being so loving and caring to baby girl because I am so proud of them. My constant fear is that our endeavor to live out our ministry will negatively impact our children. </div>
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I don't tell her that my tears are more about sadness of wondering what the future holds for baby girl. Each item I pick up to put away brings a bittersweet feeling. The joy it was to hold baby girl for a week, to care for her and love her. The sadness of saying goodbye to her. The prayers said for her over each item I pick up and lovingly put away.</div>
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Maggie and I decided that we're going to try to find a pink storage container to store all of the girl things so next time we have a baby stay with us, we can pull it right out. Just about everything is packed up waiting to be put away in a newly purchased pink storage box. </div>
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Except this.</div>
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After I tuck my precious ones into bed tonight, I think I'll sit with this for a while and smell that sweet baby smell. <br />
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And I'll pray the first of many prayers for the future of our very first foster daughter.Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-70504230607823966932012-07-19T15:51:00.000-04:002012-07-19T15:51:20.985-04:00Opening Our HeartsErik and I have discussed throughout our relationship that we both felt that ministering to children outside of our own family was important to us. We've discussed different ways we would accomplish this. Youth ministry within our churches was one way, me providing childcare in our home was another. A far off "one day" option was Foster Care. Far off as in our children would be much older and we'd have lived through most of the elementary school years to have considerable experience under our belts. Having once worked in a system with Foster families and foster children, I am aware of the challenges of foster care and have felt that to be fair to our children, waiting until they didn't need us so much would be ideal.<div>
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A dear friend of ours (referenced in this story as E) works for a foster/adoption care agency and we've talked with her over and over how "one day" we'd be interested in welcoming Foster children into our home, etc. She tells us stories of how foster families are needed, never pressuring us, but saying, "You guys would be a great Foster Family" and then leaving us to pray about it. Through her encouragement and our own prayer, we started to come around to the idea of starting the process a little earlier than we thought and tossed around the idea of doing foster care for children under 2 or on a respite type basis which would be very short term. </div>
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Through a series of "coincidences" it became very clear to us that God was telling us it was time to start the Foster Care process. It mid-June and Erik was home waiting for the veteranarian to arrive to look over our goats for the Big Butler Fair. It was just after noon and he came into the house asking to borrow my cell phone because he could not find his. He was headed back out to the barn to call his phone because he thought he dropped it in the manure. While he was walking back to the barn, he tried calling our friend, N, whose son boards his goat with us and who was going to show his goat too. The Vet was going to check that goat as well, and we needed to have her registered name on the Vet papers. When our friend N didn't answer his phone, Erik then used my phone to call his wife, E, who at the time was at work at her agency in a meeting where they were discussing the fact that they had had a call from another agency looking for a foster home for an infant. Erin looked at her phone, saw that I (Erik) was calling her and a light bulb went off. Shortly after that, she called me and said that they were looking for people to foster an infant and since we thought we might like to care for infants she wanted us to know. Erik and I talked about it, prayed about it and we both came to the conclusion that God was telling us to get the process started. We both knew that we wouldn't necessarily be blessed with a child right away, but if nothing else, we could get certified and then take it from there.</div>
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So we did. A few days later, we went to the agency, signed the papers, and over the coming days had our criminal backgrounds checked, had our home checked out and a water test completed. The water test failed. Twice. We're waiting for the results of the third test.</div>
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Then last week, we got a call from one of our coordinators who said that another agency was looking to place a baby girl. They didn't have many details but the placement would occur Monday and we were to assume the placement would be for three months, but to be aware that all details were dependent on the hearing on Monday. If we were interested, we should come to the hearing on Monday. In the meantime, we were cautioned that over the weekend, things could vastly change and nothing was definite. I spent the weekend in anticipation yet preparing for the worst. Finally, Sunday after we dropped Maggie off at Pymatuning to camp with Mimi and her cousin, I asked Erik to stop at Walmart to buy size 1 diapers. Just in case. And I allowed myself to get a little excited about the potential of a new baby in the house. </div>
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The next day, I continued to allow myself to feel more excited and I began some preparations. I dug out the bassinet from the attic and searched through my bin of keepsake clothes and found lots of adorable newborn outfits for a little girl. I didn't even realize I had saved so much for Maggie! That afternoon, after washing blankets and clothes and bedding, Erik and I went to the hearing and due to extenuating circumstances, had to leave before we knew the fate of the baby! Talk about torture! We ended up going home and about an hour later, our coordinator called to let us know that we would have the baby for just five days instead of the three months that we had anticipated. It was a little discouraging, but I quickly realized that this was a blessing from God as we learned that there was a little more involved in the process than we anticipated. </div>
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So here we are, four days later, basking in the pink presence of a baby girl in our house again. </div>
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Ten little fingers.</div>
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Ten little toes.<br />
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Everyone has fallen in love with her.</div>
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It's going to be quite an adventure, this journey of the heart we are embarking on. </div>
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There are going to be lots of highs and lots of lows. We're trusting that God will guard our hearts and protect us from heart ache as we tend to these little lambs and then send them on their way. The future is unknown for us and for them. There are so many things we have double and triple and quadruple thought about in terms of exposing our family in this way. The bottom line is that despite the probable (definite) heart ache, we believe it is our purpose to provide love and care for children by opening our home and our hearts. </div>
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This was a light week for me in general because the children were taking turns camping with Mimi, so I didn't have a full plate of children to tend to, so tending to an infant was much easier. Also, prior to Monday, were told baby would have visitation with her bio parents once a week, but it turns out it was three times a week, so that would have been difficult (but manageable) to figure out. Additionally, we knew we had a week of travel/vacation planned and coordinating how to work that out with the visitation schedule was going to prove <i>very</i> difficult. I think also, God is blessing us with just a little taste of what this is going to be like for us. Because of the camping trip, none of the children but Whit had much more than 36 hours with baby in the house. That gave them just enough time to love on her, but not too much time to become too attached. Walker and Will were able to kiss her goodbye and head out for their camping trip - a welcome distraction, especially for Willie who was absolutely wonderful with baby girl. Walker enjoyed her too, but was kind of over the whole crying thing. Willie, however, was a champ, telling me that he would take care of her and he <i>never ever would mind</i> if she cried. </div>
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Maggie got to meet her yesterday and hasn't left her side. More blessings came this week as a school friend called to plan a play date with Maggie so she has something fun to look forward to after saying goodbye. And even I won't have <i>too</i> much time to wallow in goodbye as I pack up the few baby things and get our family packed for a trip to Hershey with my mom and sister and then for a separate end of the week trip to NY and Lake Chautauqua. </div>
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It's a scary adventure we're on. But one I know will be well worth the journey. </div>
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<br /></div>Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-80931540451596721882012-07-09T15:53:00.003-04:002012-07-09T15:53:37.027-04:00A Wedding and the Big Butler FairMy sister, Enu, got married June 30 in a beautiful ceremony in my hometown. Her wedding ceremony was at <a href="http://www.starrhillwinery.com/" target="_blank">Starr Hill Winery </a> which is adjacent to our Papa's farm and then had her reception at the farm. Here's a photo from her photographer, <a href="http://www.janascottphotography.com/" target="_blank">Jana Scott</a>. Talk about phenomenal! If you are ever in Central PA and in need of a photographer, Jana is your gal! She took amazing photos and was the kindest, most cooperative and practically invisible photographer I have ever seen! I can't imagine that she took a bad photo all night!<br />
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I have not uploaded any of the photos that were taken at the wedding yet because:<br />
1) I have not looked through the 7349 photos that my children took using my camera. (yes, fun mom allowed her children to use her very expensive DSLR at an outdoor reception with a concrete paver dance floor!)<br />
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2) My computer is occassionally going to the dreaded blue screen - I've been running repair programs and trying to be careful of what I do - and back it up daily, but all indicators seem to point to my hard drive is going to crash on me in the imminent future. Therefore, I'm hesitant to upload 7349 photos to the computer before I can have the time to also upload them to a share site so if my hard drive crashes and my external hard drive breaks, I have the photos in cyber world.<br />
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But here are some that other people took and I borrowed. Thanks to Michelle, Mallory, Sharon, Brittany and anyone else who took photos and I forgot to thank for stealing them!<br />
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The cocktail hour at my Papa's house. <br />
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My little flower girl before she got her arm bumped and dropped a meatball against the front of her dress!<br />
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The bar at the tent<br />
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Bride and groom cutting the cake<br />
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The dessert table<br />
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Announcing of the bridal party - Whit escorting Maggie<br />
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The port a john bathroom</div>
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Dancing. (See the meatball stain? I got it out of the dress by the way!)<br />
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The potted herbs with place cards.<br />
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Erik and our brother in law JD getting the kids to the aisle to start the wedding!<br />
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Will with Michael's sister, Mallory. She is officially the love of his life.<br />
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Maggie and Olivia were dancing and Will says, "That is not how it's done!" and cut in and took over!<br />
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Poor little Whittie had a fever that day and was not feeling so great. But he looked ADORABLE!<br />
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Moustache!<br />
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Dancing all by herself<br />
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Pucker Up!</div>
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AH! How I love this guy! This was about 45 minutes after a dose of motrin to help with his fever and he was able to come out to the reception and play for a while and be in a good mood!<br />
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The wedding was such fun. I really enjoyed getting all dressed up for this wedding even though I had a family of six to get ready. I stayed at my Papa's house in the days prior and the day of the wedding, so I had lots of room to spread out our family and relax. I was able to enjoy watching my sister get ready with her bridesmaids and watch my girl watch her aunt "glam" it up. It was such a special memory! <br />
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Poor Maggie - we tried and tried and tried (literally, we curled her hair three separate times) in attempts to have her have curly hair - it did not work out the way we envisioned it.<br />
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Since we were able to get ready at a relatively leisurely pace, we were able to have a family photo taken. This one was just taken with my cell phone so I am very excited to see what Jana was able to capture for us. Unfortunately, my boys were not so happy about being photographed. For some reason, posed portraits make Willie the grumpiest and most uncooperative boy imaginable and minutes to this photo being taken, Walker was grumping about his tie being too tight and choking him. We won't get into the story of how Walker HATED his outfit for the wedding and when I suggested to my sister we try to find navy blue gingham ties to appease my oldest born. That's a story I'll be saving for his first date! <br />
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Anyway, I think this little farm family cleans up pretty nicely. It doesn't last long (see meatball stain) but for about an hour, we looked pretty dandy!<br />
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After all the wedding festivities were over, we had to rush home to get to the Butler Fair to show our goats on Monday. <br />
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It was a super hot day and we ALL had to show a goat. <br />
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Even me.<br />
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You see, we enter goats in everyone's names so that we can get free admission into the fair each day. We also enter a few extra so we have a few extra passes. In order to curb people doing this, the rules require each person with an entry to show the entry. Therefore I had to show my entry. We call her "Nuts" because she's never showed before and gets a little crazy on the halter. She actually was very good for me and we took whopping 4th place out of four entries. <br />
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The kids did better with a Reserve Grand Champion title and several first place ribbons.<br />
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I still have to upload the photos of the show from my phone. <br />
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Guess I should have been spending the day uploading pictures instead of posting this!<br />
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-49128614682952762832012-06-22T21:36:00.001-04:002012-06-22T21:36:37.339-04:00Summer Vacation Week TwoI can't believe our second week of summer vacation is already over and done. It was a great week! We started off with the addition of a new baby to the Schwalm family - my brother and sister in law welcomed their third child on Saturday. We're so excited to welcome little Henry to the family. Poor guy has no idea what he is in for!!<br />
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This week was a breeze because my wonderful Mother in Law took the three oldest kids to her church every morning for Vacation Bible School. Not only did she take them to VBS, but she took them and their cousins out for an adventure every afternoon this week. They did more in this week than we'll probably do all summer. And that's good because one day they'll look back and say, "Remember when Mimi took us to VBS and then would take us to a movie or swimming at Joyce's? We had so much fun!" <br />
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I know they will say this because I remember the "adventures" I took with my Grammie (although our adventures usually revolved more around driving to Monroeville Mall and shopping) and I thought those adventures were so much fun.<br />
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Their adventure week was great for me too because with only Whit around the house, I had so much time to get stuff done that I don't normally do around here. Like go to the attic and organize all of the winter stuff I just threw up there in plastic bags two months ago because I just wanted it out of Maggie's bedroom. The logical day to sort through stuff in the attic was Tuesday because Erik was taking Whit with him to work and the rest of the kids were gone all day too. With no one to stand at the bottom of the trap door ladder stairs yelling, <i>"Momma!? What are you doing up there?! Can I come up?!" </i> then proceed to come up the ladder for me to say to them, <i>"I did not tell you you could climb this ladder and come into the attic. GIT (</i>1)<i> DOWNSTAIRS BEFORE YOU KILL YOURSELF OR FALL THROUGH THE CEILING !" (2)</i><br />
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Footnotes for the above conversation: (Note, I have not had to use footnotes since my Senior year of High School in Mr. Decker's English Class for my Senior Paper. No, Mr. Decker, I was not required to use footnotes EVER in any of the papers I had to write in any of the classes I took in my entire six year career of undergraduate and graduate school. That knowledge was a complete waste of my education and since I haven't had to use the skill in 20 years, I clearly have no idea how to use them properly so I am doing the best I can.)<br />
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1)I have noticed that lately when I am shooing things, like children or dogs or livestock, I have adopted the Southern pronunciation of "get" using the "i" sound instead of the "e" sound.<br />
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2) I don't really tell my kids they will fall through the ceiling. This is just a little jab at my dear friend, Karen, who actually did step right through her bedroom ceiling this week while her husband was away on business. She patched the hole with blue masking tape. I told her to at least go get some white tape - or paint the ceiling blue. Another friend advised her to put a reflective surface on the ceiling and . . . well, I won't get into that because this is a family friendly show. (Although, I do think the other suggestion would go over MUCH better - at least from a husband standpoint.)<br />
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Anyway, the heat up in the attic messed me up! As I was stuffing the bags into the plastic storage bins, I started getting this irrational fear that the ladder door to the attic was going to somehow snap shut and leave me trapped in the attic and I would die of heat exhaustion before anyone found me! So I started stuffing faster and then it started getting hotter. Then I discovered that I had BOXES and BOXES of shoes that were in Will and Whit's sizes so I needed to sort through those boxes and find the appropriate shoe sizes and since I was doing that, I might as well just sort all of the shoes into same size categories and organize and relabel the boxes. The more I did, the more I found to do and soon I was bent over one of our storage bins digging through it looking for pillowcases (somehow we do not have enough pillowcases on our pillows). As I was bent over, I noticed these drips of water splashing the particleboard floor of the attic. The conversation in my mind went like this:<br />
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<i>What is that? </i><br />
<i>Is that water?</i><br />
<i>Is that water dripping from somewhere?</i><br />
<i>Did a squirrel just run over my head and pee?</i><br />
<i>No, it wasn't a squirrel! I haven't seen a squirrel up here all morning. It has to be a leak.</i><br />
<i>How would we have a leak? </i><i>It's not even raining!</i><br />
<i>Where is that water coming from?</i><br />
Pause with me for a moment as I wipe the sweat from my face. Realization hits . . .<br />
<b><i>HOLY COW! THAT WATER DRIPPING IS COMING FROM MY FACE! I AM SWEATING SO MUCH IT IS LITERALLY DRIPPING OFF MY FACE!</i></b><br />
<i>I've got to get out of this attic NOW!</i><br />
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So, we still don't have enough pillow cases on our pillows BUT, all the shoes are organized and I managed to put all of the winter stuff away and I found some of Maggie's older clothes that I had forgotten to give away or sell, so I posted them on a local classifieds page on Facebook and already sold $50 worth of stuff!<br />
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Which is a good thing because after the kids spent the entire day with Mimi again today, they ate an entire loaf of bread as French toast, the boys each ate a fried egg and Maggie had a bowl of cereal, on top of the grapes they were snacking on all evening as they played in the play house. <br />
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That was only dinner.<br />
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I put them to bed before they could realize they hadn't asked for dessert! <br />
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-75100126761272549462012-06-06T23:43:00.001-04:002012-06-06T23:43:21.588-04:00My Littler SisterMy littler sister, the third Wiggins girl, is getting married in 24 days.<br />
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As usual, I'm feeling nostalgic as the big day approaches. FYI, I'm letting nostalgia take over my other emotions like panic, fear, and STRESS as I still have not found fabric to re-line the dress I bought because it is one of those weird ones that has the lining to the knee but a sheer overlay that goes to the floor, which I <b>DO NOT</b> like but it is the style, color and fit that I love, so I am hoping to fix the lining issue, especially since I want to wear a long dress. <br />
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Things I also do not have done: <br />
Shoes for Whitaker<br />
A strapless bra<br />
A slip for Maggie<br />
Rehearsal dinner outfits for any of my family<br />
Manicure and pedicures for me and Maggie<br />
Any remote idea of how I plan to wear my hair for the wedding<br />
Shoes for me<br />
An appointment to get my dress re-lined with a reputable seamstress!<br />
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But, that is another story. Tonight I succumb to the nostalgia as I look at these pictures of my sweet little sister, Enu as our family calls her. <br />
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Enu is our blue-eyed baby. My Grammie called her that from the minute she was born. She has grown from a shy, mama's girl to a beautiful young woman, inside and out. <br />
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Enu with our mama.</div>
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She's hardworking, determined and sweet, caring, loving and generous. She's sensible with a frivolous side and you wouldn't guess it but she has an adventurous side too. She hides her emotion but they run deep. She had a rare illness when she was in 5th grade that left her with a propensity to swoon at the sight (or mention) of blood or hospitals. She loves fiercely and is loved the same. <br />
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Sometimes people mistake her and my littlest sister for twins. For the record, they are not. <br />
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She is probably the sister who is most like me. I should say the sister I used to me most like only because being married to an unpredictable, non-scheduled, "no-one-will-have-a -problem-with-that" kind of a man has stripped me of almost every Type A personality, OCD, organized, thorough and meticulous trait I ever had. I haven't known what it is to be on time to a function in over 10 years!<br />
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She's who I thought I was going to be until I fell in love with a country boy and moved to a farm. She has it more together than I every will. <br />
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We recently had her bridal shower at my grandfather's home in our hometown. It was a beautiful event coordinated and executed my my little sister (Kate) and littlest sister (Lara, seen above). Although it was unreasonably hot, it was a lovely day and Enu had a chance to visit with friends and family who were all wishing her the best as she prepares for marriage. It was delightful to see the groom's family and my family gathering to celebrate Enu and Michael's love.<br />
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It was also a lot of fun to see Enu, Lara and their girlfriends hanging out together. As I listened to them talk about adult things, I couldn't help but see the girls when they were little - it seemed strange to hear them discussing grown up things since it feels like yesterday that they were still playing Barbies and jumping on the trampoline. I was all grown up through most of Enu's teen and young adult years. I missed seeing her grow up but I am blessed that I can call her a friend now that we are both adults. <br />
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I don't know if she remembers this (probably not because her memory is worse than mine!) but when I was pregnant with Will, I had a lot of trepidation about telling people I was pregnant. Maggie hadn't even turned a year old when I got pregnant and although I waited a while to tell everyone, I knew the reactions were not going to be as joyful as the previous two. There was lots of concern over the fact that Maggie and the new baby would be so close together in age. When I told Enu about being pregnant, she was so happy and told me that she thought that it was wonderful that my kids were going to be so close in age. She said that sometimes she felt we (us four sisters) missed out because there were such age gaps between us. Her warmth and affection in that moment was exactly what I needed and I am forever grateful that she was able to give me exactly what I needed emotionally at that time. Her positivity really helped turn my fears around and reassured me that the closeness in age between Maggie and Will wasn't going to be a problem. And you know what? It never was!<br />
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Erin recently shared another lovely compliment with me. I'm not going to repeat it but it was perhaps the nicest compliment anyone had ever given me. Coincidentally (although there are no such things as coincidences), her words came on a day when I really needed some positive affirmation. <br />
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Thank you, Enu, for being there when I really needed you. I hope that along the line, I am able to give you the same gifts you gave me. I love you and wish you an eternity of happiness and love. <br />
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With the Flower girls.</div>
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My sisters and mother.</div>
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The flower girls take a break from the shower festivities and put their feet in the pool.</div>
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My beautiful Maggie May. 25 years ago, this is almost exactly what Enu looked like. It would be my honor and privilege if my baby girl grew up to be exactly like her Aunt Enu. </div>
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Sweet little girls watching the bride open her gifts.</div>
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Livy Lou having a spot of tea.</div>
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<br /></div>Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-41065418277269934392012-05-30T22:45:00.003-04:002012-05-30T22:45:35.705-04:00Unsocial MediaI've been kind of in the doldrums lately and I hadn't really been able to figure out why. I've been busy getting stuff prepped for summer and doing some things to get ready for my sister's wedding so it's not like I've actually had time to sit down and think a whole lot, so I hadn't really had time to think about my melancholy until today when I was sitting at the laundry mat waiting for all of our camping laundry to wash that I realized what I was feeling was lonely. Tonight as I was reading some posts on Facebook from my book league friends, a group of women who have become an integral part of my life, that despite the daily contact I have with them on Facebook, I hadn't actually seen any of them for any real girlfriend time in a month! <br />
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Eighteen months ago, this feeling would have never crossed my radar! The fact of the matter is that I didn't have many friends that I made on my own. My only real friend was C, who I met way back in the day, and who has been with me through all of what I consider my "grown up" life (dating Erik, our engagement, wedding, babies and more) and who has been such a generous and loyal friend to me over the years. I wrote a little about her <a href="http://www.lifeatgoodnessgrowsfarm.blogspot.com/2011/04/pretty-little-milkmaid.html" target="_blank">here</a>. <br />
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My recent bout of loneliness is as much my fault as it is a result of circumstances. I like to blame busy schedules and all of the typical excuses, but the reality is that because of Facebook, I was lazy about reaching out to my friends. I never actually called anyone to invite them out for coffee or to even just ask them what was going on in their lives. It is so easy to feel like you are staying on top of things - to believe you are "communicating" with people via Facebook, but that's just not the truth. <br />
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I haven't seen my friends in a month and I miss them more than I can say. Being someone who places a great deal of importance on friendship, yet also being a person who has a hard time letting people in, I can't stress the value I place on the friendships in my book league. I honestly never thought I would have a group of girlfriends that I would be so close to. I always considered myself a one on one kind of girlfriend. Sure, I had interaction with groups of girls before, but I never let myself get close with them the way I have with these women. I've had such a lovely "womance" with these lovely ladies!<br />
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These amazing women have changed my life and brought to it a richness and fullness I didn't know I was missing. I am so very blessed to call them my friends. <br />
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This picture was taken almost a year ago and since then our little group has grown even more! Not only have we added some new friends to our ranks, we've added more children. I can't wait until we can all get together again and we can take a new picture of how our <strike>little </strike>GIANT Book League has grown!<br />
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Of course, I may just be an oddball and none of the other girls are missing me at all and they will read this and think I must be a desperate loser! I really hope not because I really miss my friends and I hope they are missing me too. I'm anticipating the day when all of our schedules will slow down with the end of the school year and we can move into our Summer Swim League schedule again. I'm counting down the days!<br />
<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-42204261153075164412012-05-26T17:05:00.000-04:002012-05-26T17:05:17.057-04:00Happy 2nd Birthday, Whittie Scot!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happy 2nd Birthday to my beautiful blue eyed boy! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You have been such a blessing to us in so many ways and we are so thankful for the gift of you.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-79684066766933380542012-05-25T09:14:00.005-04:002012-05-25T09:14:41.725-04:00It's The End of The World As We Know It . .<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and I'm not feeling fine. (90's kids will get the REM reference).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today is the last daw we will have a one year old in the house and I am feeling very sentimental. Mothering babies has been so much a part of my life for the last eight years. I am truly sad to say goodbye to that stage of life. We were blessed with absolutely joyful and easy tempered babies so there were never any stressful moments. No mama-drama stories of pregnancy, labor, birth, or early infancy. My babies slept through the night relatively quickly and were good sleepers ever since. I loved everything about being a Momma to babies and I miss those moments of infancy that are so unique. Making faces at a baby and watching them try to imitate you, all the tiny baby clothes and especially the smell. That smell gets me every time!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It's not that I don't look forward to and enjoy the toddler stage and the new adventures the children growing older brings to our lives- it's just that babydom is so easy. You can protect them from so much more when they are babies. Drawing them to you in a hug makes everything better. As they grow, they will encounter more and more situations where hugs and kisses won't make everything better and while I know that going through some of the typical tween and teen drama is necessary to form the adults I want them to be, I want to spare them any pain we can and that gets harder the older they get. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I just want them to know that when I look at them I will always see this...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Walker</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Maggie</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Willie</span><br />
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Whitaker</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and that it has been my honor to be their Momma. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-86810411195133379862012-05-22T00:03:00.001-04:002012-05-22T00:03:33.063-04:00Work Weekend in my Hometown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Two Friday's ago, I was preparing for a trip to my hometown for a Wedding Work Weekend. In the midst, I had volunteered to watch Neighbor Boy while Neighbor Mom tended to a school activity for one of the other Neighbor Kids. It was the perfect scenario. Willie J love Neighbor Boy and they get along famously. Things went so smoothly. Willie J and Neighbor Boy rode their bikes, played outside and then asked to play inside. They started playing grocery store and asked if they could have some paper and kid scissors so they could make play money. <i>"Of course"</i> I replied, handing them the stubby scissors and some scrap paper. </div>
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Fast forward a few hours and I am jolted out of my cleaning and packing with a text from Neighbor Mom that says Neighbor Dad is on his way to my house to pick up Neighbor Boy. I head into the playroom to gather Neighbor Boy and prep him for his Dad's arrival. Willie J and Neighbor Boy have their heads hidden in a box and they are giggling. Unaware of the impending doom, I am soaking up the cute giggles that are coming out of the box, thinking sweet thoughts of how cute these sweet boys are and I laughingly pull the box off the boys heads and say with a smile, <i>"What are you boys up to?"</i></div>
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And then I notice it.</div>
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<i>GASP</i>!</div>
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A <b>GIANT BALD SPOT</b> in Neighbor Boy's hair!</div>
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And Neighbor Boy was leaving our house to get ready to be at his Aunt's <i>WEDDING REHEARSAL.</i></div>
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I was devastated, shocked, embarrassed, confused, flabbergasted - you name any adjective that is the opposite of happy, I was feeling it! When asked why he did it, Neighbor Boy said, <i>"Because my head was itchy!" </i>I told Neighbor Boy his mom was going to be so angry with me, and he smirks at me and says<i>, "No she won't! She'll be mad at me!"</i></div>
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Let's just say that I went through some supreme feelings of guilt and was a little afraid Neighbor Mom might come over and kill me. Or end our friendship, which would be even worse!</div>
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But she didn't. Even though I apologized to Neighbor Dad, I called Neighbor Mom's cell and left her a message with what I hope she found a profuse and authentic apology. To be fair, I was pretty sure Neighbor Mom wasn't going to be too mad at me because we have had several conversations abotu the lack of control we have over the aforementioned, no longer so cute and adorable boys, however, with a wedding on the line, I had a few moments of fear. Neighbor Mom and Dad were super kind about my lack of supervision of their child and they graciously forgave me. They <i>claim</i> it is now a funny family memory. </div>
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A few hours after Neighbor Boy left, I was cleaning up the playroom and as I reached down to pick up the box the boys had their heads in earlier in the day, I jumped back in fear when I found this on the floor . . .</div>
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A HUGE clump of Willie J's hair which I mistook for a dead mouse! Thankfully, a few hours later, we loaded up the van and headed East to my hometown for a Wedding Work Weekend.</div>
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Fast forward to Saturday and we were settled in my hometown for Wedding Work Weekend.</div>
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Here we are helping my sister and her fiance build a stone patio for the dance floor for their wedding in the field behind my Papa's house.</div>
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We were short about 10 rows of brick, even though Enu figured out the square footage. It should have been perfect, but it wasn't. We also needed a second load of sand. Luckily, we got ahold of a company within minutes of closing time and we got it just in the nick of time!</div>
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We don't have nearly enough equipment in use to build this patio! </div>
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This is about 1/3 of the way through the build. We have a couple princesses helping us too.</div>
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This is my almost 86<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> year old Papa <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">supervising 4 grand daughters, their spouses/fiancee's, and 7 great grand children laying a 20x20 patio in his field to make a dance floor. He helped unload pallets of pavers too.</span></span></div>
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Erik has spent a few years helping my mom tear out overgrown shrubs around her house and it's looking beautiful. We can finally see the beautiful sandstone around the house and the rhododendron's can finally be seen!<br />
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Erik put this pond and waterfall in my mom's yard a few years ago and last year the fountain/waterfall didn't work. My mom thought the pump blew up but it turns out it was just clogged with junk! Erik drained the pond (accidentally killing a frog in the process - you should have seen those kids looking at the frog guts that he was cleaning out of the pump motor - none of them are going to have an issue with dissecting frogs in biology class) and reset the rocks that had moved from the harsh freeze and thaws of Central PA mountainous winters. <br />
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That's not a <i>Star Wars</i> character you see hanging out at the pond - it's just a regular old shop vac that we used to suck out the final inches of water that the pond pump couldn't get.</div>
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Whit and Erik checking the pump again. That little guy loves his Daddy and can't bear to be separated from him. It is so stinking adorable.<br />
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It was a productive and exhausting weekend. We got all of the projects we wanted done and even managed to stain my mom's patio and put together and set up her new gazebo on the Patio. All in all Wedding Work Weekend was a great success and I think other than Kevin cutting his hair, there were no real drama's or trauma's to speak of. With the amount of people we had running around, that was a real miracle!<br />
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Next up is the Bridal Shower and in a few short weeks THE WEDDING! In the meantime, I've got to get through 13 more days of school. <br />
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13 more days<br />
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13 more days<br />
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13 more days . . .<br />
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Am I the only one counting down? I am SOOO ready to BRING ON SUMMER!Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-25851962461256969262012-05-07T21:04:00.001-04:002012-05-15T08:35:01.046-04:00Cinco De Mayo SupermoonI have a group of girls that I consistently get together with for a Book League. We did so well at the beginning, choosing books, reading them, discussing them . ..<br />
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Then summer arrived.<br />
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We spent the summer rotating between pools, throwing together pot -luck lunches and letting our kids swim all day while we sat and talked, pulled kids off the bottom of the pool ("<b><i>If you go in the pool without your bubble you're going to sink!")</i></b>, and settled minor childhood disputes, (<i style="font-weight: bold;">I don't want to hear it! Work it out amongst yourselves. Just let her have a turn!")</i>. <br />
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We've got all the best parenting techniques down. <br />
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It got to a point where we had the brilliant idea that since <i style="font-weight: bold;">we</i> women all got along so well, it would stand to reason that the men that were our better halves would have to get along just as well too.<br />
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So we started with a family picnic and all of our predictions were true. The menfolk enjoyed each other's company just as much as us womenfolk did! That family picnic blossomed into couples only nights out - which are few and far between. In the Fall and early winter, that meant a few outings to <a href="http://www.northcountrybrewing.com/" target="_blank">North Country Brewing</a>. Then in February, our neighbors hosted a Sweetheart's Dinner at their home. It was a delicious pot-luck with a Valentine's theme. After that, life kind of got in the way for a while so nothing new happened until I decided to invite everyone over for a Cinco De Mayo Fiesta!<br />
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Erik's grandma gave me the best green chili gravy recipe and it makes the most amazing taco meal. The girls that were able to join us for the night filled in the sides and appetizers and we had a blast. Not everyone was able to come, but it couldn't have been a more perfect night. It was warm with a slight breeze (that turned into a pretty steady wind by the end of the evening) and we had the advantage of the SUPERMOON, which ironically didn't rise from behind the woods until after everyone left.<br />
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It was a great night and it gave Erik and I a chance to get some stuff cleaned up around the house and patio. The only task we weren't able to accomplish was getting the pool uncovered, but it would have just been for looks anyway. I used my Amish clothesline to hang some banners and other fun decorations above the fiesta area, used all of the old candles around the house and put them in old spaghetti jars and then got out the tiki torches I bought on clearance last year (as well as some small ones I found on Saturday morning at the Dollar Tree). <br />
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Our dessert smorgasboard. I forgot to take pictures of our dinner spread which included tortilla soup, green chili tacos, beans, rice and yummy dips!</div>
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I used varying heights of candle sticks to put taper candles down the centers of the tables. It's amazing how much light candles actually shed.</div>
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I used old food jars to put tea lights and votives on the steps around the hot tub. Those yellow paper lanterns I got at the Dollar Tree. Unfortunately, one didn't work very well. Can you take stuff back to the Dollar Tree?<br />
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Everyone is enjoying some lively conversation!<br />
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It was an absolutely lovely evening and aside from the wind kicking up blowing smoke from our fire all over the place, it was a relaxing evening with wonderful friends. </div>
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Hope we can make this an annual tradition!</div>
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<br /></div>Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-86381769479324537362012-04-25T23:11:00.001-04:002012-04-25T23:11:37.612-04:00I Am Super LuckyThere is not a moment that goes by that I do not feel an immense amount of gratitude for the life I am able to live. I am fully aware and in awe of the blessings I have been given and I try very hard NOT to take them for granted.<div>
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One of the blessings I treasure is a friendship that I have had since preschool. I think I've mentioned my childhood friend before and how a pair of red patent leather Mary Jane shoes</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDe7gEzPnRqnHQ3axJIhmja10-Cpe7kDxKAeewTxaIhKbojK1pKKl93w-qK2HBmaltMLfFkcy5jqoF7ZAOR5yNxrzPkUdk-t2oBdTiL5Lr6EQTzxVf3rc15U0KhYkCCaeKFIfTs1FHlh11/s1600/beba-bean-patent-leather-mary-jane.jpg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDe7gEzPnRqnHQ3axJIhmja10-Cpe7kDxKAeewTxaIhKbojK1pKKl93w-qK2HBmaltMLfFkcy5jqoF7ZAOR5yNxrzPkUdk-t2oBdTiL5Lr6EQTzxVf3rc15U0KhYkCCaeKFIfTs1FHlh11/s1600/beba-bean-patent-leather-mary-jane.jpg.png" /></a></div>
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inspired a friendship of 33 years. </div>
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I've been thinking of that friend a lot lately. She's apparently been thinking of me too because as I was putting together a fruit salad for Administrative Assistant Appreciation Day at my children's school, I saw an unfamiliar van pull up to the door. I soon noticed a sticker in the window indicating it was from a flower shop. I opened the door and the delivery person asked if I was Jennifer and then he handed me a lovely flower arrangement. My first thought was that my husband <i>really</i> surprised me but I opened up the card to read that it was from my dear friend, and she sent flowers to simply let me know that she was thinking of me. That small gesture made me feel so special it brought me to tears. </div>
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I am remiss in keeping in touch with her frequently, mostly because of this</div>
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this </div>
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and this</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjADj7f9hUFxB7tk1lN-dpif_6cLV_1ZKaKIqTcdyUMyAaMdO5qotfaSUsqFz1kNfpMQ4iQZMJUijs_vigJHVQrCLtqAQYUBFfHL2npZQmRcYPBLd3YcZmY_C2z_mrY7rFg3OUeIi3ZUbn/s1600/SAM_1322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjADj7f9hUFxB7tk1lN-dpif_6cLV_1ZKaKIqTcdyUMyAaMdO5qotfaSUsqFz1kNfpMQ4iQZMJUijs_vigJHVQrCLtqAQYUBFfHL2npZQmRcYPBLd3YcZmY_C2z_mrY7rFg3OUeIi3ZUbn/s320/SAM_1322.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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but when we are able to get together, I always feel so much better having reconnected with the friend who has known me almost as long as my parents have. It's a pretty amazing experience and I am grateful for the blessing. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnngf4Rsf1xlgv-rB3evbnUrD-Oro2mKkiXULt9UnIXnX0f-zrd_YUHWJJ4LOiL2Lnt5vmPbNywlCDj7eEEv8xjSNVtQdz3QhkLe-0XNvX8E1pSV_9piz4XBa_wIBkhWyOc1ObRMHVgUAj/s1600/Scan62.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnngf4Rsf1xlgv-rB3evbnUrD-Oro2mKkiXULt9UnIXnX0f-zrd_YUHWJJ4LOiL2Lnt5vmPbNywlCDj7eEEv8xjSNVtQdz3QhkLe-0XNvX8E1pSV_9piz4XBa_wIBkhWyOc1ObRMHVgUAj/s400/Scan62.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Thank you, Keely, for being such an amazing woman and my lifelong friend. </div>Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-88406941407341787032012-03-22T22:23:00.003-04:002012-03-22T22:50:28.161-04:00The Pioneer Woman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yesterday was one of the most anticipated days of my life. Aside from my wedding day and the birth of my four children, that is.</div>
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Ree Drummond, most known as "The Pioneer Woman" came to Pittsburgh for a book signing and I <strike>stalked</strike> got to meet her! </div>
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I got up bright and early at the crack of 7:30 am (for me that is early) to get house stuff done so I would be ready to meet my hero! I got the laundry put away, the dishwasher unloaded and got all dolled up to go meet her. I had several text message consultations with my mom and sisters regarding my wardrobe and shoe choices. I got out the new top I bought Saturday, my old trusty jeans, shoes, purse, etc and laid out on the bed waiting for the exact right time to get dressed (ie: about 20 seconds before I left the house or else I'd also be wearing a bunch of someone else's snot, spit, food and dirt).</div>
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I met my best friend, Katie, along the way and after a few extra excursions, we were off!</div>
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We got to Sewickley at around 3:00 and managed to find parking pretty easily. I parked at a meter, forgot to put a quarter in the meter, stood in line for a while, realized I didn't put money in the meter, only managed to find one quarter, which Katie graciously walked back to the car and put the quarter in the meter buying me only half an hour, and hence got a $5 parking ticket!</div>
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As we drove Beaver Street in our attempt to find the bookstore, I admit, based on blogs I'd read from PW's previous book tours, I totally expected there to be traffic lining the streets, women <i>everywhere</i> and a line about a mile long waiting to meet PW. But it wasn't bad at all. We parked and got into line with about 50 or so people in front of us. As we waited, the book store owner came out with small bottles of water and suggested that if we didn't already have a copy of the book to go inside and purchase one now. Since I didn't have a copy of the new cook book, I went in and bought mine and ended up running into my Aunt Bonnie and cousin, Amy! They had said they were going to come out to the signing, but I didn't expect them to be the first in line! I chatted with them a minute and then got my book and headed back to the line. </div>
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This is a look at the line from where Katie and I were standing. The book store is the shop on the right with the black awning. Not too bad of a wait. We arrived at 3:00 and at 3:30, true to their word, the book store began coming out and distributing numbers for admission. Katie and I were 66 and 67 or 67 and 68. </div>
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I accidentally got this picture, but I'm posting it because the young girl in the front of the picture won the last PW giveaway of the Frye boots! JEALOUS! Although I'd like to win one of the cooking give aways - or one of those trips to the Lodge!</div>
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When I bought my copy of the cookbook, they put a post it note on it with the spelling of your name (or whomever you were having the book inscribed for). My amazing little sister got me my first PW cookbook and she sent the book all the way to Pawhuska to have Ree sign it and ship it back to me. The inscription was so perfect b/c my sister had written a letter to her describing me. The inscriptions says: <br />
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<i>Love to Jen from the ranch! Kiss those farm kids for me. : ) Ree/PW</i></div>
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Sigh. How perfect, right?</div>
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So this time around in my head I was thinking I could get another amazing inscription - something like,</div>
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<i>Love to Jen - The Pennsylvania Pioneer Woman and my new best friend forever. </i></div>
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Then she would invite me to join her, Marlboro Man and her kids for dinner in the city and we'd become fast friends and start taking monthly trips to Oklahoma to visit the Lodge. Erik would fulfill his dream of wrestling steers and I would fulfill my dream of, well - I'm not sure what dream I would fulfill - but my kids would fulfill their dreams of riding horses everywhere. </div>
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But here's the thing about being a stalker without any psychopathic tendencies. I was too scared to even think about having her inscribe more than my name! So I chickened out and just made the inscription "Jennifer." </div>
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L - A - M - E! </div>
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We're at the doorway to the bookstore! At this point I'm getting nervous. It's intimidating to get to meet a celebrity. I started panicking because I knew I only had a few seconds to speak to her and I had to get everything I wanted to say out without taking too much time. Most importantly, I had to tell her that my Willie J and I watch the Food Network show and Willie, taking after his Momma, imagines himself to be good friends with her sons, Bryce and Todd. In fact, he thought I was actually going to her house on Monday to meet her and was quite upset that I was not taking him with me. I was given strict instructions to invite Bryce and Todd to our house. <br />
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This was a little display that the book store had put up about Ree's visit.<br />
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At this point, Ree is just a short flight of steps away from us! Luckily, the bathroom was even closer and I sneaked in to primp. Imagine if you will, Katie standing to my right, laughing a little bit at me b/c I'm so nervous and even though I asked her if I looked OK and she responded, "Yes," I still had to go into the bathroom to check my hair and reapply lip gloss. </div>
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I kept looking at the sign and checking and re-checking my books and ticket. And I was still debating whether what I had written for the inscription for the "Charlie the Ranch Dog" book was what I wanted. Willie is really the only kid who has been interested in the PW cooking show, but if I had the book inscribed only to him, the other kids might be jealous. But, Willie is the only one who would really appreciate it. </div>
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I was also hoping at this point that Marlboro Man and the kids would show up. Due to Willie's love of the show, I was hoping that they would magically appear (this wasn't just my imagination - there was rumor that they were going to be at the book signing at some point) and I would get Bryce and Todd to sign the book too! AND I would take a picture of them for Willie. I would be an amazing hero mom and Willie would have physical evidence that I did something special for him. But, MM and the kids didn't show up while we were there and all my hopes were dashed!</div>
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Finally! We're upstairs and I am in sight of Ree! At this point Katie turns to me and says that she doesn't really need to meet PW, that I should have her sign all my books (I had given Katie one of the books to get signed so she would have a chance to meet her too) and she wanted me to have all the time to talk to PW myself. She would just take pictures! I did protest and try to get her to keep the book, but she said no - this was my thing and she would let me have my "moment." I was so touched at her generosity and since it was offered, I took the gift! <br />
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It's finally my turn and Katie starts snapping away! I was so nervous because I kept running through my head all the things I wanted to say, but knowing that PW doesn't really care that I want to tell her that our lives are eerily parallel (well, except for me marrying into a wealthy cattle baron's family and then writing best selling books and having a blog that generates 1 million dollars a year just from ad revenue) and that 15 years ago, I thought by now I'd be married to some sort of suit wearing man, living in a plush McMansion in the suburbs with a part time career as a therapist out of the office in the apartment over the garage but instead, I married a guy who went to school to be a youth pastor but instead became a landscaper who really wanted to be a farmer and we moved out to the funny farm where we had a four children who don't understand the English phrase of <i>TAKE OFF YOUR MUDDY BOOTS BEFORE YOU WALK THROUGH THE HOUSE</i>, baby goats sleeping in my laundry room, dogs out the wahzoo, ducks swimming in my pool and various Burmese customers who stick live chickens in sacks and drive them home in their Honda Accords. <br />
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I did not tell her all of that. I let her think I was a nice normal girl. <br />
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I did manage to tell her that she probably hears this all of the time, but I am the PA version of her. That I imagined I'd be living a pretty cushy life and instead we bought a farm and are making it work. We discussed what we raised here on the farm and she said she thought it was pretty cool the way Western Pennsylvania has this major city but all of these pockets of rural area so close. <br />
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And then I told her that my boy Willie J and I watch her TV show all the time and that he wants to invite her boys over to play. She was very sweet and said she was sure if they were there they would want to play with him and "next time we're in town. . ." <br />
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And then it was over in an instant. I don't think I drooled over her too much, but I probably made a fool of myself. I will remember it forever! Ree was sweet and funny and kind and didn't seem to be irritated at all with my stack of <b>three</b> books or that I was talking her ear off! It was one of the most fun days of my life and I have to thank my wonderful husband for being home to manage the kids and my BFF for letting me have my moment with my hero. </div>
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Then we left and went shopping for dress for my sisters wedding in June and we ate dinner at the Cheesecake factory. OH! And I found a honey dipper at Williams Sonoma. It's probably the cheapest thing there and it works perfectly! The day was complete!<br />
The next day, Willie J was a little upset with me because I didn't bring Bryce and Todd home to play with him. I showed him his signed copy of <i>Charlie the Ranch Dog</i> and instead of being so excited to see the book, he opened up the new cook book and started pointing out all of the pictures of Bryce and Todd. <br />
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"Look, Momma! There's Bryce on a horse."<br />
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Thus another crazy stalker fan is born. <br />
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-24544923676775247012012-03-14T20:44:00.001-04:002012-03-15T08:49:45.397-04:00Lousy ParentsErik and I are <b>lousy</b> parents.<br />
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We didn't teach any of our three oldest kids to ride their bikes.<br />
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But somehow, they all managed to learn to ride a bike <i>without training wheels</i> before they were five years old.<br />
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In fact, just tonight, Will jumped on Maggie's old bike and started to ride it. <i>WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS! </i>Literally, he jumped on the bike, pushed off with his feet and started riding. I wasn't paying any attention and Walker started yelling, "Mom! MOMMA! LOOK AT WILLIE!" and I turned to look at this little blur whizzing by me on a pink bike.<br />
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It's another bittersweet milestone here at Goodness Grows Farm. Luckily I ran inside to grab the camera and get it on tape!<br />
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This guy is going to be the death of me! But I love him more and more every day! Here's a series of pictures of our Willie J. His sister took the first one, but all the rest are self portraits. (Sorry about the boogars).</div>
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-40799779626548959612012-03-07T14:46:00.003-05:002012-03-07T14:46:58.036-05:00Disappointment AvertedI have been looking forward to an upcoming event in Pittsburgh like you can't believe. <br />
<br />
This event has me at the level of anticipation I haven't felt since I was a tween and my parents got my sister and me tickets to see "Tiffany" at the Clearfield County Fair. <br />
<img height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLnbjqfpONcOn4-qZgb4Sse7K8p0PoATIRHDXhzgjw8kNSgxSR3eiOyo5YvyrLTNMSnyy1cGNKDrrexmWFWpb8BNqJNrmfVzm_dV2OAKnPNUswwL78MP7D6ogJDBQVXxTTH4qtFvZOsM/s400/Tiffany+-+I+Think+Were+Alone+Now+-+Single+cover.jpg" style="-webkit-user-select: none;" width="400" /><br />
<br />
<br />
What event has me in a tweenish-twitter? <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/">THE PION</a><a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/">EER WOMAN!</a><br />
<br />
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That's right! She's coming to Pittsburgh!<br />
<br />
Given the level of anticipation and excitement I have regarding this event, you can imagine how my heart dropped when I went to the Barnes and Noble website today and saw that the event had been<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"> CANCELLED! </span> I seriously thought I was going to be a little sick.<br />
<br />
I called the store to confirm the disappointing news and all she could tell me was that the event was cancelled at <i>her store</i> but it was still happening SOMEWHERE IN PITTSBURGH!<br />
<br />
What? Granted, Pittsburgh is a small city, but you can imagine how many bookstores are in the greater Pittsburgh area!<br />
<br />
Thankfully, the PW website has a book tour schedule and I was able to find the <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/pw-book-tour-2012/">new venue information</a> relatively easy. <br />
<br />
I've still got The Pioneer Woman on my schedule for Monday, March 19.<br />
<br />
I'm so excited. It's ridiculous how excited I am to see her. Like, so excited that my imagination is running away with the thought that if I don't share the fact that the venue has been changed for the event, people won't find out about it and I will be the only person to show up for the book signing. <br />
<br />
Seriously? What is wrong with me. And how scary is that thought!? Don't be scared, Ree. I promise, I'm pretty normal. <br />
<br />
Disappointment Averted. I can continue with enjoying this beautiful, warm, sunny day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-67971819844368691702012-03-03T11:59:00.001-05:002012-03-03T11:59:03.932-05:00If You Tell Your Wife You've Planned A Date NightIf you tell your wife you've planned a date night . . .<br />
<br />
She will be very excited but will immediately think of a million little chores that need to be done before she can leave.<br />
<br />
First, she will bundle up her children in clothes suitable for sunny, yet cold and windy March weather and she will ship them outside with the threat of "Don't come back to this house until I call you for lunch!"<br />
<br />
Then, she will sweep the floor (even though she just did it yesterday).<br />
<br />
She will do laundry (even though she just did it yesterday).<br />
<br />
She will clean out the refrigerator to see what ingredients she has to make dinner for the children and her in-laws (who are graciously babysitting). She decides she will make a chicken parmesan pasta.<br />
<br />
She will note in the clean out process that the refrigerator is basically full of condiments and juice, so she will go to her desk to write down a list of some things to buy at the store on date night.<br />
<br />
Once at the desk, she will remember to look at her carefully plotted out menu planner and see that she had written down "Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping" on the space for today and will re-think her plan to make Chicken Parmesan Pasta.<br />
<br />
She will then go to the kitchen and search for the recipe she wrote down for the Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping and will decide to go ahead and cook the chicken quarters now. After all, they are what must be cooked for the recipe - everything else can be decided later.<br />
<br />
She will season the chicken and puts it in the oven.<br />
<br />
She will find the recipe for the Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping, review it and realize she does not have buttermilk for the biscuits and debate whether she should just make buttermilk with vinegar and milk or look for the other cheesy biscuit recipe that she has.<br />
<br />
She will then look for the other Cheesy Biscuit recipe, find it and return to her desk.<br />
<br />
Then she will look at her meal planner again and realize that she has planned a complicated meal for Thursday night - the busiest night of the week. She then erases the original meal and grabs a pencil to write in a new, less complicated one (like Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches). <br />
<br />
When she grabs the pencil, she finds out that the pencil is not sharpened. She grabs another and another, and none of them are sharpened. <br />
<br />
She grabs an entire handful and takes them to the craft cabinet where she gets out the electric sharpener, plugs it in and inserts the first pencil to be sharpened. <br />
<br />
She will not hear the whirring of the sharpener.<br />
<br />
She will hear the oven timer go off and realize that it is time to flip the chicken, so she goes to the oven, flips and seasons the other side of the chicken and returns it to the oven to cook.<br />
<br />
She will look into the pencil opening and realize that her four year old son had inserted a pencil ERASER first into the sharpener and got the eraser stuck in the sharpening mechanism.<br />
<br />
She will unplug the sharpener and look for a pair of needle nose pliers to try to pull the eraser out.<br />
<br />
After minutes of desperate searching, she will not find the needle nose pliers.<br />
<br />
She will search for the miniature screw driver set she received at Christmas from one of her children.<br />
<br />
She will not find it.<br />
<br />
She will locate a screwdriver that she thinks will be appropriate and it will not work.<br />
<br />
She will then gather ALL of the screwdrivers she can find which takes her to several different drawers in the kitchen, a few bedrooms, the linen closet and the laundry room.<br />
<br />
She will finally find ONE screwdriver that will work.<br />
<br />
She will then dismantle the pencil sharpener, and find the metal eraser cap is stuck inside the mechanism and cannot be maneuvered out with a screwdriver. <br />
<br />
After some thinking, she will realize the only tool she has that will potentially work is a pair of manicure scissors.<br />
<br />
She will go back upstairs and locate the manicure scissors.<br />
<br />
She will use them to somehow manage to get that blasted metal top with the eraser OUT of the sharpening mechanism, get it all screwed back together on her first attempt and will then sharpen five pencils.<br />
<br />
She will walk back to her desk and on the way see that someone had eaten Saltine crackers for breakfast and smashed several of them into the carpet. <br />
<br />
She will ignore it.<br />
<br />
She will sit down at the desk to finish what she started.<br />
<br />
She will forget what she had started.<br />
<br />
Just as she feels like she is on the brink of remembering why she sat down at the desk in the first place, she will hear the oven timer will go off again, indicating that another 15 minutes have passed.<br />
<br />
She will go check the chicken.<br />
<br />
She will then hear the buzzer on the dryer indicate the clothes are dry.<br />
<br />
She will remove the clothes from the dryer, insert the clothes from the washer, and start a new load of clothes in the washer.<br />
<br />
She will realize it is almost lunch time and she has no idea what she is going to feed the kids.<br />
<br />
She will open up the refrigerator, realize that the refrigerator is basically full of condiments and juice, and will remember that she had gone to her desk originally to write down a list of some things to buy at the store on date night.<br />
<br />
She will then sit down and write a blog post about how she basically wasted the last hour and a half. <br />
<br />
And that's what happens if you tell your wife you've planned a date night!<br />
<br />
<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-18381380772588379142012-02-27T23:57:00.000-05:002012-02-27T23:57:32.807-05:00Trying Not To Get ExcitedI'm a big fan of winter. I like that it gets very cold and snows. From December 1 to March 1 I would love for it to be about 20 degrees with at least an inch or two of snow covering the ground constantly. <br />
<br />
Most people do not appreciate my view on Winter, which I can understand, but I still enjoy waking up to a blanket of white. I know I am kind of prejudiced towards a typical winter, given Erik's winter profession providing snow removal, but it really doesn't have as much to do with our income as it does my hatred of mud.<br />
<br />
I HATE MUD!<br />
<br />
Hate it!<br />
<br />
There's not a square inch of ground on our 40 acres that is without mud. Most days, that includes my house. It makes me nuts! The amount of work mud creates for me is unbelievable. Everyone in the house requires at least two changes of clothes per day. Willie J, of course, requires at least three or four. No one respects my boundaries of TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF AT THE DOOR and I frequently find someone traipsing through the house with muddy boots on. Apparently, having mud caked boots is the only time my family remembers the rule: <i> If you need to talk to me, come find me. Don't stand there and just shout "MOMMA!" </i>If you are perfectly clean and want me, by all means, stand in your bedroom and yell for me when I'm down in the laundry room up to my elbows shouting out all of our mud stained clothes. But if you are covered in mud and most likely manure and want me, please, by all means <strike>walk </strike>STOMP <i>all through</i> the house as you search for me. Especially if I am in the upstairs bathroom. There's nothing I love more than being disturbed during my bathroom break. Unless of course, it's coming out of the bathroom to find a trail of mud down the stairs, through all the downstairs rooms and back to the laundry room where you are now taking off all of your muddy gear. <br />
<br />
However, as we approach spring, I am looking forward to the warmer days and I'm getting used to the mud. Although our cellar has a lot to be desired, we set it up over the weekend for the kids to be able to enter through the basement door, disrobe of their muddy attire, and come upstairs through the basement. It has cut down on the mud considerably this weekend, which was especially important as I had spent the entire week thoroughly cleaning the house. Like, moving furniture and washing baseboards kind of cleaning. Three days in and we're holding pretty well. I only had to sweep four times today and I didn't have to run the vacuum at all. <br />
<br />
I'm also getting kind of excited over the fact that we may actually have a real Easter break. Our school is scheduled to have the Wednesday before Easter through the Tuesday after off as part of their building in snow days into the schedule just in case. We haven't even had a delay this year, which has been kind of sad, but I had looking forward to this potentially long break.<br />
<br />
That was until I was reminded of the Ides of March. This particular phrase has always stuck with me from High School - I want to say it was 10th grade - when we read <i>Julius Caesar</i> in English class. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_683539816"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">In modern times, the term </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><i>Ides of March</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> is best known as the date on which </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">Julius Caesar</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> was </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">killed</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> in 44 B.C. Caesar was stabbed (23 times) to death in the Roman Senate by a group of conspirators led by </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">Marcus Junius Brutus</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">Gaius Cassius Longinus</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">. The group included 60 other co-conspirators according to Plutarch.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1em;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial; white-space: nowrap;">2</span></span><span>]</span></sup></span></a><br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ides_of_March"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">According to Plutarch, a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">seer</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> had foreseen that Caesar would be harmed not later than the Ides of March and on his way to the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">Theatre of Pompey</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> (where he would be assassinated), Caesar met that seer and joked, "The ides of March have come", meaning to say that the prophecy had not been fulfilled, to which the seer replied "Ay, Caesar; but not gone."</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1em;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial; white-space: nowrap;">3</span></span><span>]</span></sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> This meeting is famously dramatized in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">William Shakespeare</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">'s play </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">Julius Caesar</span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">, when Caesar is warned by the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial;">soothsayer</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> to "beware the Ides of March."</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-3" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1em;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial; white-space: nowrap;">4</span></span><span>]</span></sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-4" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1em;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0645ad;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial; white-space: nowrap;">5</span></span><span>]</span></sup></span> </a> <br />
<br />
This sticks with me because during my late high school years, the Ides of March (March 15) is the day before my mom's (and now Maggie's) birthday and we had two years of very bad blizzards around the Ides of March. So I always associate the Ides of March with blizzards. Last year was not too different as I discovered as I went through some pictures from last year. I found these, taken March 11, 2011.<br />
<br />
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What a difference the snow makes.</div>
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I'll curb my enthusiasm for a while in anticipation of what could happen with the Ides of March, but I'll be enjoying these amazing, warm February days as we head into Leap Day. And if March 2012 COMES IN and GOES OUT like a lamb, I won't complain!</div>
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<br />Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-27207729343689659422012-02-24T22:35:00.003-05:002012-02-24T22:35:43.239-05:00Old Yeller<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm a yeller.</div>
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I hate to admit it, but it's the truth. I am embarrassed by it and you would think with the amount of education I have I would know better than to yell. I do know better and I still resort to it. Every time I do it, I feel guilty. I promise myself and my children and God that I won't do it again and within minutes (often times seconds) I am yelling again. It is ugly and it's not the mother I want to be.</div>
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Yesterday, after reading an email devotional and a lovely morning with my Book League girls commiserating about our "failures" as parents, I was left with guilt on my heart for my behavior. I try to ignore it by blaming the behavior of my children, but it isn't their fault. Although, I would wager that <i>ANYONE </i> left with Willie J long enough will concur that it might be <i> a little bit</i> his fault. It left me with a fear that someday the children will look back on our time together and not know that I cherished everything they brought to me, good and bad. I am not ignorant to the fact that this is all <i>my </i> perspective of the situation. An outsider may look in at our house and think that my children are behaving completely appropriately and think (rightly so) that I'm over-reacting a little. Most days, the "little" things are easy to ignore and I am not the crazy lady yelling at her kids ALL of the time. But there are days when I feel like the bad is outweighing the good, when I have four half naked heathens running around with uncombed hair, dirty faces, toys strewn <i>EVERYWHERE,</i> eating their food with their hands and screaming just to hear themselves scream. Days when I swear I could have put the following phrases on a loop and left the house because my presence was never felt. Time honored phrases such as:</div>
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<i>STOP TOUCHING HER.</i></div>
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<i>STOP TOUCHING HIM.</i></div>
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<i>I SAID STOP TOUCHING HER.</i></div>
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<i>IF HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH YOU, WHY DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO TOUCH HIM?</i></div>
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<i>EVERYONE KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!</i></div>
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<i>STOP TOUCHING ME!</i></div>
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<i>I JUST WASHED THAT!</i></div>
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<i>DON'T EAT THAT!</i></div>
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<i>DON'T PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH!</i></div>
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<i>NO!</i></div>
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<i>I SAID NO!</i></div>
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<i>IF I HAVE TO SAY NO AGAIN, I SWEAR . . . </i></div>
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and I wonder if anything I am doing as a parent is doing anything to help these children grow into respectable, independent, productive adults.</div>
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It's so easy for me to resort to yelling and in doing so I'm not only harming my children in terms of hurting their feelings, I'm harming them because my yelling is empty parenting. Yelling is me not wanting to take time to deal with the situation hands on and that's bad parenting. So I'm resolving to do better by myself and my children. Each morning, I will try to turn to God and ask Him for guidance to parent with wise words and a kind heart. To take the time to parent with love and attention - the key factor being the attention. So frequently, I am distracted by the things I need to be doing that don't involve my kids that I put off their requests until I am a broken record of <i> maybe, later, not now, </i> and <i>tomorrow. </i> I want to turn to God to help me control my yelling and help me to convey to my kids my appreciation so they know how much I adored every single second I was blessed to spend with them. </div>
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Because even though there are moments that I think I'm going to lose it, I have the privilege of being Momma to these precious ones and I am so very thankful. So here are some photos of the very precious moments I find with my children. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsHt5P0tHOe8SW-6qMrPsHK31psdn_jjkjP4ZmtBB10ZudQjeTFJ5tnfO-hrl6-5bmiPxP-2eqvOR5tw3tInBCVDZXFH0sDk4GX-KjqhOyIfMGEMA6k2t-VL6G_XlBZalAOL9Z0sSftom/s1600/IMG_1198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsHt5P0tHOe8SW-6qMrPsHK31psdn_jjkjP4ZmtBB10ZudQjeTFJ5tnfO-hrl6-5bmiPxP-2eqvOR5tw3tInBCVDZXFH0sDk4GX-KjqhOyIfMGEMA6k2t-VL6G_XlBZalAOL9Z0sSftom/s400/IMG_1198.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Maggie on a recent trip back to my hometown. Maggie is growing her hair out for my sisters wedding in June and it is just in an ugly phase. She's got a crazy curl at the back of her neck which prevents her hair from being completely straight, but the top layers of her hair are completely straight and, well, it's really just a mess. She's perpetually wanting to wear her hair down and I am constantly pulling it back into pony tails, pig tails and braids. Some days she wants her hair "cwurled" and I oblige, but the "cwurls" just don't last. I'm hoping a professional stylist will be able to get her hair to stay curled for the wedding day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoTTqQ-tXKxciSTAsOZn6tTOb4GiR0BcsdVtNWN5ba__0RTuFh46xEBZlA_peqcB0PmJogdcO8DGTqmJl7Lk5qOyU0KWB8U-YzDh6nSJ5WJwXJSi2baG-OEQ0OvZT8W4Pv5xmsNGRPbOO/s1600/IMG_1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoTTqQ-tXKxciSTAsOZn6tTOb4GiR0BcsdVtNWN5ba__0RTuFh46xEBZlA_peqcB0PmJogdcO8DGTqmJl7Lk5qOyU0KWB8U-YzDh6nSJ5WJwXJSi2baG-OEQ0OvZT8W4Pv5xmsNGRPbOO/s400/IMG_1200.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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Whitaker raids the Valentine candy!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BEM0PE5RYWhZrXrlzFoHeh0YxmjRJFQvFVDKrwfvDojv8ipg_w-nTJxfpG9nZck6fJW9SR_OHqlme6mK4zy7uoRD_1hdFLZnrmd3ewCjwI00EqHFx7_QmfC057kT1j0SBS96G8C4S3Ps/s1600/IMG_1201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BEM0PE5RYWhZrXrlzFoHeh0YxmjRJFQvFVDKrwfvDojv8ipg_w-nTJxfpG9nZck6fJW9SR_OHqlme6mK4zy7uoRD_1hdFLZnrmd3ewCjwI00EqHFx7_QmfC057kT1j0SBS96G8C4S3Ps/s400/IMG_1201.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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Lollipop, candy hearts and a book. What more do you need? Except two incisors? This boy has his two year molars, but no incisors. I'm starting to wonder if he might be a vampire since he only grew in fangs.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiM3kcFKX49NDFNX4zp0BAmdnpYI3pZz0mBxvkmI6TkrqTA8oc7ZtYUQAKnVgI2N3e6McBaLhkXctuWLKVhZ045vMpnCp41DKk0dm6GhdQPgwZUqHislbnY5pXTPMTgaW3a0XXtP0UVj-/s1600/IMG_1204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiM3kcFKX49NDFNX4zp0BAmdnpYI3pZz0mBxvkmI6TkrqTA8oc7ZtYUQAKnVgI2N3e6McBaLhkXctuWLKVhZ045vMpnCp41DKk0dm6GhdQPgwZUqHislbnY5pXTPMTgaW3a0XXtP0UVj-/s400/IMG_1204.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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A beautiful day in February and the boys go for a ride on Willie's motorcycle. This was such a precious day for me. Willie struggles a lot with sibling rivalry in terms of over doing it with Whitaker. He doesn't come out and hit him or be overtly mean to him. Instead he loves on him too much. He gives that extra long squeeze during a hug or pulls Whit along instead of holding his hand. I've tried giving Willie lots of Momma time in the afternoon when Whit is asleep, but it hasn't been working. On this day, I allowed Willie to take his new motorcycle outside to ride and he generously offered to take Whit with him and they enjoyed a great day together. Will also took Whit to the swing set and he pushed Whit on the swings which was so sweet to watch. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYnfAIDWrhM7YXVcP4XXqPGx9hEfvdbeDFeqN_GJ_NEWXWkBg7LVyK7bY_ncbyx4s60n2ucXB9gSMJehx2MKMKRAxB4B8vRqJHa4M4c0EnjU54UQdAg0a7Ug6XMusOyEJ1acVXZOLq4BGn/s1600/IMG_1074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYnfAIDWrhM7YXVcP4XXqPGx9hEfvdbeDFeqN_GJ_NEWXWkBg7LVyK7bY_ncbyx4s60n2ucXB9gSMJehx2MKMKRAxB4B8vRqJHa4M4c0EnjU54UQdAg0a7Ug6XMusOyEJ1acVXZOLq4BGn/s400/IMG_1074.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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Willie is afraid to sleep by himself sometimes so he crawls up into the loft with Walker. Walker never ever complains and he always makes room for him. Even though Willie insists on sleeping like this!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0yGVvp8YVDOqr6em5sypHbSZahXKpiRHpIbkSzgqvYvnd6R2T3wkdeoReJHnfzh68iMvpvIxAJRn50vXBeLSgDDOeC5z-IrDyeePL-lAmqB2fBNPWfhrgu85oRUotElhMeroBjHTVMzP/s1600/IMG_1077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0yGVvp8YVDOqr6em5sypHbSZahXKpiRHpIbkSzgqvYvnd6R2T3wkdeoReJHnfzh68iMvpvIxAJRn50vXBeLSgDDOeC5z-IrDyeePL-lAmqB2fBNPWfhrgu85oRUotElhMeroBjHTVMzP/s400/IMG_1077.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Maggie and Willie love to pretend play mom and dad. On this day, they were playing "Mary and Jofas." (Joseph) They complained that the towels they were using kept falling off, so I secured them with some old scarves. I was a hero! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVA0kbQ8Ek-Btu_F6ZOJzUrTGfFODE6aRedcIBWN-McO5jtXL3jXk4WgOGPKfMtrgonVzawaJPx608GYGjUWtY5n1jim1wURLjNt0DSXr0DnyOtM0E2XmOk-OrUNAuyFe7vJHYdodd_rN/s1600/IMG_1091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVA0kbQ8Ek-Btu_F6ZOJzUrTGfFODE6aRedcIBWN-McO5jtXL3jXk4WgOGPKfMtrgonVzawaJPx608GYGjUWtY5n1jim1wURLjNt0DSXr0DnyOtM0E2XmOk-OrUNAuyFe7vJHYdodd_rN/s400/IMG_1091.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Whitaker isn't so happy about taking a picture with his Momma.<br />
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Walker on his actual 8th birthday. We went to Dairy Queen to get whatever he wanted . . . a banana split. Of which, he ate only the vanilla ice cream and the hot fudge. Next time maybe he'll trust me when I say, "Why don't you just get a hot fudge sundae?" He got the birthday crown at school that day and then I was surprised he wore the crown to the YMCA that night for his rock climbing club. I have been anticipating the age of embarrassment coming upon him, but so far, he is still young enough to want people to know it is his birthday and do little boy things. Even though he is growing into quite a little man. <br />
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Most nights the kids all want to sleep together. We limit it during the week, but on weekends, they all want to sleep in the loft bed together. So far, no one has fallen out!<br />
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Whitaker joined me in bed one morning with two chocolate chip pancakes and some cheerios. <br />
He didn't share.<br />
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Willie and I baked cookies together for Valentine's Day. He cracks me up with the towel on his shoulder just like me. After we took this picture together, he spent about five minutes petting my face. Willie is a petter and must always pet me. I sometimes get annoyed by it - especially when I am not sure where his hands have been, but it's also one of the most uniquely "Willie" qualities he has. We baked the cookies and decorated them with Maggie and Walker and then the kids gave them to their classmates on Valentine's day.<br />
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For dessert on Valentine's Day, I made ice cream cookie sandwiches and we had heart shaped strawberries.<br />
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I don't know how they sleep like this!</div>
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My sweet angels!<br />
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Walker and his buddies on the way to Pittsburgh to see a movie at the Science Center.<br />
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Walker and his buddies after about 20 trips to the chocolate fountain bar!<br />
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Willie and Maggie get to have a slumber party in Maggie's room. Willie is ALWAYS hot and takes his PJs and covers off. Maggie is a bed hog and a crazy sleeper. <br />
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When I go in to check on Whit before bed, I never know what I'm going to find. <br />
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This night he looks like he's holding his crib up.<br />
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This night, he had to hide under his donkey.<br />
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Walker was surprised with a DS from his Nana for his birthday. For some reason, he decided to sit in the doorway and play with it. I think it was because I had suggested he might want to go outside to play. I guess he misinterpreted what I meant by that.<br />
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As I proof read this post and review the pictures, I realize that most of the pictures I posted are of the kids sleeping. Hmmmm. . . I suppose that's a little bit telling of where I've been lately in terms of where I find the most peace, but I am blessed with the gift of tomorrow. A chance to do better as a mother. A day with no mistakes. A new day to give to my children what they are truly asking for and to show them my appreciation for their uniqueness.<br />
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Another day to thank God for the blessings those little critters are to my life.Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863085227902965950.post-31965860105493103372012-02-11T09:59:00.002-05:002012-02-11T09:59:39.771-05:00We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled ProgramHi! <br />
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How've you been?<br />
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It's been busy around here but that's not why I haven't been writing.<br />
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I went through a period that (from what I read on other blogs) is kind of common with bloggers like me (people who are blogging as a means of documenting family memories). A period where I was internally debating whether what I was documenting was ethical to my family. I mean, I don't really imagine my little anecdotes are going much beyond my family and friends, which is more than enough, but on the chance that they were, I was struggling on whether I was going to do irreparable damage to my children's' psyche by publishing the stories and pictures that I post with my entries. I tried to imagine them at an adult age, reading some of the stories and wondered if they would find the stories an adorable set of memoirs where I documented their lives, or will they be angry about every little thing I documented and hate me? <br />
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Factor in all of the worries about weird perverts checking out my blog (and stealing innocent pictures) and I had a bit of a breakdown of my system for a while.<br />
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After some time in thought and prayer, I decided I would resume blogging as normal. I know there are risks to what I post but there are risks every day of what I am doing, so I try to be as cautious as possible for my children, but I'm not going to stop recording our memories based on fear. I've also chosen to believe that my musings will be considered a great memento of childhood for my babes and they will cherish me for documenting all of these silly stories and be glad for them.<br />
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<i>Children, if you are reading this and you HATE ME for this blog, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would cause any harm. And I promise, I will only blog about you as teenagers if you do stupid things that I want to embarrass you about as a punishment and reminder to never do something that stupid again. Or if you do something super exceptional (like win an award, get an A, or just wake up on time for school) and I will </i>try<i> not to embarrass you at all. </i><br />
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So you might wonder what's new at Goodness Grows Farm?<br />
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Not much except a lot of GROWING! <br />
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I celebrated a birthday which pushed me into the next age bracket on surveys and questionnaires. I'm now closer to the next decade than I was to the previous one. That sounds weird when I think of it, but for the most part, I still think the 1990's were 10 years ago so my "age" doesn't affect me. <br />
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Christmas Eve was a bit different for us this year. I ended up taking the children to my hometown for a quick visit with my family before Christmas. We had a lovely meal on the 23rd with my Papa, Mom, Dad and a visit from my Aunt B. who was in town from Florida. We drove home the morning of December 24 and then had a gathering at our house for Christmas Eve. For some reason, our kids just started melting down one by one in the hour before we were to leave for Christmas Eve services, so we made a BOLD decision to stay home. We got the kids in their jammies, settled in on the couch and read scripture and some Christmas books we have about the birth of Jesus. It was something <i>totally</i> different from what I have done all of my life. I think it was the first time <i>EVER</i> (well, aside from the day I was born) that I didn't attend a Christmas Eve service. In it's own way, the night was peaceful and reverent. I missed the tradition of the Christmas Eve service, but I am glad I have the memory we made instead of the one that could have been - you know, that one where we sat in church shushing our kids, wrangling Whitaker, not being able to pay attention to the music or the message because I am searching my purse for gum, pens, paper and other paraphernalia to distract my hoodlums so I can get something from the service. <br />
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Whitaker had already gone to bed, but I got one picture with my older three on my birthday.<br />
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Best of all, my dearly beloved bestowed me with some beautiful bling.<br />
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The kids exchanged presents to each other. Will got Walker a watch<br />
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and Maggie a pair of Christmas socks.<br />
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Willie got a Lego kit from Maggie . . .<br />
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and was so excited that he gave his sister an unprompted bear hug as thanks!<br />
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I have to say, that over the Christmas Holiday and into the last few months, we have seen such a generous side to Willie. He was the first to raid his piggy bank to buy presents for his siblings. He took a great pleasure in picking out the perfect gifts for them too. I am so proud of his generous spirit and greatly look forward to fostering this gift.<br />
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On their way to bed to wait for Santa!<br />
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Christmas morning was a blast! Santa visited us and left some really great prizes and we had a nice leisurely morning opening presents, playing with them and having fun. <br />
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A few gifts didn't fit under the tree. Like Maggie's Barbie Doll house - the ONLY gift she asked Santa for. Santa found this gem at a yard sale last summer for $10! It only needed a little elevator repair and some new furniture to complete it. I have to brag a bit about Maggie on Christmas day. She opened up all of her gifts under the Christmas tree and there was no doll house. She looked under the tree, at me and then said, <i>"Is that it?"</i> I told her "<i>Yes"</i> and she got a very sad and dejected look on her face, but picked up one of her new toys and sat on the couch to watch the rest of the kids open their gifts. Her face obviously said, <i>"I can't believe I didn't get the dollhouse I asked for!"</i> But she never once complained or made fuss. She just sat there until I suggested that there might be other gifts to search for that might not have fit under the tree. <br />
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Once the boys finished opening their gifts from under the tree, I sent them on a scavenger hunt. She eventually found her doll house (after I prompted her with clues like, "What looks different in here from last night?" and "<b>LOOK UNDER THE BLANKET!")</b><br />
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Walker got a basketball hoop that Santa didn't finish building in time. But that meant that Dad and Walker got to finish putting it up together.<br />
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When Erik and I went Black Friday shopping, we happened across this mo-ped at a really good price. We forwarded the info onto Santa knowing Willie would love any type of battery operated vehicle. A few weeks later, Willie told me he wanted a motorcycle for Christmas. Kismet! Willie has been zooming around the house on his flashy new Mickey Mouse Moped ever since!<br />
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Whitaker's big present was this giant plush Donkey. He absolutely loves it and sleeps with it every night. To get him to go to bed, I sing,<br />
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<i>Where is Donkey, </i></div>
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<i>Where Is Donkey,</i></div>
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<i>In your crib</i></div>
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<i>In your crib</i></div>
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<i>Let's go find your Donkey</i></div>
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<i>And go to sleepy</i></div>
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<i>go to sleep</i></div>
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<i>go to sleep</i></div>
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Some more pictures of Christmas Morning.<br />
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Four days later, Erik and I were blessed to celebrate our 10th Anniversary. </div>
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We hadn't planned anything very special and then at the last minute, thanks to Erik's mom, we were able to head to Pittsburgh for the night and enjoy an extravagant dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse. We pricelined a hotel room, made a reservation for dinner and had a lovely night away from home. Our server at the restaurant made our dessert an event.</div>
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Erik chose a Creme Brule, I had a triple chocolate mouse (which was to die for) and the little chocolate round in the top center was a chocolate cheese cake. This dessert and the potatoes gratin absolutely made the dinner. It was a great one time experience, but I can't say it was the best steak I ever had.</div>
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Since then, we've been raising puppies,</div>
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and getting them sent off to new homes.</div>
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Except this one. This is Lucy and she's Goodness Grows Farm's newest addition.</div>
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We've been playing in the barn.<br />
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Getting Dirty.<br />
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Hunting Big Buck with our new Wii from Nana.<br />
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Visited the PA State Farm Show.<br />
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Played outside in the snow (when we have it).<br />
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Tried on and fit into size 18 month pants. (This boy is 8 years old) <br />
Got our braces off too.<br />
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Made (and devoured) this Buckeye Cake recipe courtesy of Pinterest. If you haven't seen pinterest, don't even get me started. It's probably another reason this blog has been suffering for three months. Don't even look into pinterest unless you want to waste VAST amounts of time looking at what other people are looking at online! It's worse than facebook! I'm totally addicted but it's also inspired me to do all kinds of interesting things. Ok, well, I dream about doing interesting things!<br />
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Just after New Years, we got a surprise visit from friends who had moved out to the Chicago area a few years ago. It was an absolutely fantastic visit and we got to catch up on each others lives. I'm now in cahoots to plan a trip to visit them in April since we have a long Easter break! Hopefully they're cool with that!<br />
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And the boys put up a shelter for my van. Now there's a big grey blob outside my back door. I like that I don't have to scrape snow off my vehicle, but don't like that I can't easily see the back anymore. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalFdZ7hzYTPsJtmuVy2izjp6DB6QgHtXBGWSEOTffq0YmKjSQ5j4_Yu9R01hb22VeHQrQ4V4yy_tNoahf5bKJhaWLGgOECZtG1YoZUNV-MIOxRFnjAhJzldnk3z3sGiRDSmX23praKKVs/s1600/SAM_1225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalFdZ7hzYTPsJtmuVy2izjp6DB6QgHtXBGWSEOTffq0YmKjSQ5j4_Yu9R01hb22VeHQrQ4V4yy_tNoahf5bKJhaWLGgOECZtG1YoZUNV-MIOxRFnjAhJzldnk3z3sGiRDSmX23praKKVs/s400/SAM_1225.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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We took Walker and three buddies to the Science Center to watch an Omnimax movie and then out to a buffet restaurant for dinner for Walker's 8th birthday. It was a great day and we got a chance to hang out with some of the boys that Walker has been developing friendships with at school. It was a great lesson for Erik and I that all eight year old boys are the same! Crazy, inconsistent, and all movement! </div>
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We're now in mid-February and have our first true "arctic blast" snowstorm of the season. We got about three inches over night and once we finish making Valentine boxes and signing our Valentine cards we'll head out for some sled riding!</div>
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Thanks for coming back to see us. I promise, I'll keep you posted.</div>
<br /></div>Jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12477430632335340719noreply@blogger.com1