tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54600957276261173722024-03-05T10:01:39.704-08:00Blessed With AdventureMom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-41439868814117919602017-08-05T07:09:00.000-07:002017-08-05T07:14:59.296-07:00Fasting - the Challenge as a Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I recently watched a video about the benefits of fasting long term. The man on the video instructed to take in lots of water and find a quiet place to meditate and find rest. I began to laugh as I thought of what my fasting sessions have been in the past year. A homeschool mom of 3 kids ages 2,6 and 8. My husband is gone from sunup to sundown. There is no time for sweet meditation and rest. But thankfully God is full of grace and creativity.<br />
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So here are some things you can do to jump start your fasting in a busy lifestyle.<br />
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1. Throw out the expectation that you need to escape your life to fast. In fact, I have found fasting in the midst of my real life is WAY more beneficial to my spiritual growth. While I want food I am also dealing with children who WANT WANT WANT. I push to conquer the thought process of "what about me" and to pursue God's view point of a servant heart, even when I'm uncomfortable.<br />
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2. Apologize. Its a beautiful thing to learn to do. Lets face it. Hangry is a real word.<br />
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3. Put on some worship music<br />
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4. Thank God throughout the day of how He is working in you even if you don't "feel" it. And that even if you don't have ANY spiritual moments He is still with you and showering you with His love all day long.<br />
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5. Make meals simple and quick. Don't hang out in your kitchen too much or on Facebook or Pinterest. They all have food and pictures of food in them.<br />
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6. Start small. Start by skipping one meal. Grow and don't be hard on yourself. Its not the Law. Its a joy and a time to tell God you want to grow in intimacy with Him.<br />
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7. Know when to stop. Mine is if I want food more than God, am wanting to yell at my kids a lot, or just feel unwell. Then next time I look to stretch a little farther.<br />
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Jesus said fasting and prayer builds confidence in God essentially building faith. This is found in the story of the epileptic that was brought to Jesus' disciples in Mark and they couldn't cast out the demon. But Jesus came and cast it out easily. When they asked why they were not able to cast it out he noted their lack of faith and them gave them instruction how to build faith through fasting and prayer.<br />
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Fasting is a great time to build up our "spirit - man" while suppressing "the flesh" as it were. It should not be a time that we think to ourselves about how much we are sacrificing for God. That's just ridiculous. But instead of how we want to set other things aside in order to have some special time with Jesus. Physically its good for your body to have a rest from the digestion system running if your fasting for 3 days or more. Spiritually its good to be in dependence of God's love and grace. To sit in His presence. He never fails to respond when I pray "Jesus, please help. Because I'm hungry I have no patience for these kids. Please help me through this moment".<br />
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<br />Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-68844626394163480592015-05-19T18:05:00.000-07:002015-05-19T18:05:14.815-07:00Running for TwoIn January of 2014 I picked up running. I had grown to enjoy it when I was younger but now in my life I was pursuing more distance then just "getting out there". <div>
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I aimed for 5k. A courageous distance I thought, since I was 5'5, and 235lbs. But that took me only 3 months to achieve. I was amazed at what I could achieve.</div>
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Before i knew it I was hooked up with a Facebook group of runners, checking out running magazines and investing in running paraphernalia. I was a junkie at 5k. </div>
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I posted every run, because I'm rudely vain and wanted people to know that I may be overweight, but I'm a runner. Which makes that totally ok. </div>
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By October I had risen to the stage of running my first half marathon. For any non runners out there that is a distance of 20.1 kms. I - was an athlete! </div>
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Formed with the chisel of endurance. Tested with the brutalness of hard pavement and long rugged wilderness paths. I ran that half marathon like it was going to melt the pounds off with every km. And if it didn't, well I was doing it for a good charity cause.</div>
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And after October my running declined. </div>
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There is something about meeting your peak and knowing that's your best and then coming back to normal everyday training. It feels... boring.</div>
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The brutal terrain didn't seem so brutal as it did back in March. And that chisel began to wain with softness. Until finally I was back down to 5k in January of 2015. </div>
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And then I happily discovered I was pregnant. (planned). </div>
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I had such great ambitions! I was going to run my Entire Pregnancy! I saw a woman who ran her last half marathon at 6 months pregnant!</div>
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'well if she can do that! .... I could surely do a 5 or 10 km at 6 months!' I thought.</div>
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And maybe I could have, if I had kept up with my running. But I hadn't. I had let it slip away with the queasiness of morning sickness. And as I woke up in the morning, chewing on my lovely square soda crackers, I thought of that half marathon woman and figured she made it all up. </div>
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So the months went on and I signed up again for the same race I did last year for my first 5km run. Thankfully, they offered it as a 3k run as well. And if I just bombed out there was also a 3k walk. But mostly I really wanted to run and get the treat bag. </div>
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Tonight as I ran on my treadmill, I thought, at least I can be last. No one will laugh at the prego for being last place. It like you get an award just for trying. </div>
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My two concerns with this thought is that there will be pregnant women, farther along than I in the 5km race OR there will be other pregnant women I'm racing against in the 3km race, which totally nullifies my right to be last. </div>
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Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-24869005928377258212014-03-15T19:14:00.000-07:002014-03-15T19:15:44.532-07:005k Feels Fabulous!Moving a treadmill into the house was kinda a good idea. For those really snowy days. But quite frankly you just can't get into running inspiration and second winds with kids running by each moment saying:<br />
"mommy running?" and then proceeding to come onto the treadmill at full run. It just doesn't say relaxing at all!<br />
It in fact drives me back outdoors onto the pavement and down the road..which is where I was today.<br />
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Keep your feet straight - lift your knees - push back, expand the stride - breath....breath...breath more! don't swing your arms too much - aw a great song on!! burst of energy!! no no...wait...conserve..long run...conserve that....lift your knees...keep your feet straight. look up.<br />
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Its a constant mantra that goes on in my head while I run. Its usually interrupted once in a while with a sense of how far I've gone or how far I need to go.<br />
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I ran out today knowing that I would have no choice but to finish the 5k. I was running out of town far enough so that it would be 2.5k back into town. So either walking or running, it would be 5k. My thought kept leading to ... how long do I want to be out here..get running!<br />
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As I travelled up the last few hills up to my front door my mapmyrun app let me know that I had reached my 5k and I relished in this sense of accomplishment. If it hadn't been for my need for a bathroom break I think that high could have brought me another km.<br />
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As I sat with my hubby on the couch he asked me.."so what now? what's your next goal?".<br />
Quite frankly I didn't know. I had only aimed at 5k. I started out at a weight of 240 lbs. and being a bit of a couch potato. Well ... a lot of a couch potato. Now I could run 5k outdoors and had lost 15lbs in about 3 months. But what now?<br />
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I decided early on that my goals would not include losing weight. However, I would definitely enjoy the wonderful effects of running being losing weight. Nevertheless, having weight goals can be depressing. But having distance goals is encouraging.<br />
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So new goals.<br />
Short term: increase 2km<br />
Medium term : Increase my time under 7 mins in the 5k.<br />
Long Term: Run a 13.1 mile race (half marathon)<br />
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That last one is going to take a while. But that's ok. I got a while :)<br />
<br />Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-20760680876943288912013-07-06T18:13:00.001-07:002013-07-06T18:19:23.908-07:00NMC Adventure - Not interested in Religion<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioa3kaGqCNY9p6Af4nQT_5_nEU8P8aCKRqlK1Khy0cUNDTtcBRYVX7UPBKb7_Sxt9gADQNdnh1qsA28w5YoYBRvnpOlBA0Q8DcQkPpE3_7YhkCWGvpzfSYRtKjfeDdKoX35LwxLL6cwe4/s1600/carl-medearis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioa3kaGqCNY9p6Af4nQT_5_nEU8P8aCKRqlK1Khy0cUNDTtcBRYVX7UPBKb7_Sxt9gADQNdnh1qsA28w5YoYBRvnpOlBA0Q8DcQkPpE3_7YhkCWGvpzfSYRtKjfeDdKoX35LwxLL6cwe4/s1600/carl-medearis.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carl Medearis - Author and speaker.</td></tr>
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National Ministry Conference (NMC) is where Canadian, and some international YFC'ers meet up once a year. We talk, we chase our kids through the crowd, catch other peoples kids, and listen to speakers.<br />
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As I sat in my comfy chair I watched this middle aged man who looked more like he spent most of his time relaxing in Hawaii than doing missionary work between Christians and Muslims. His name was Carl.<br />
Some people called him Mr. Carl.<br />
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He was introduced as a man who "truly knew Jesus" and it made me curious. He didn't strike me as the super pious of the group. He looked more like he would sit back and relax with a beer and tell you a tale of his childhood. A funny, but relaxed man.<br />
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As he came up on stage to speak he began with what he did and how he managed to start into working between Muslim and Christian organizations. He had a hearty laugh and was a great story teller.<br />
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He finally came to the place where I now remember his talks. He was talking about one of his first times speaking at a Mosque. They had asked him to speak about Jesus. As he was going up to the stage area, the man who was in charge of the place ran up behind him. Carl thought for sure the man had decided to call the whole thing off. But instead the man said..<br />
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"Carl ... Carl..." running up behind him. " Please, only speak about Jesus. Not about Christianity or religion. Only Jesus".<br />
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A remarkable statement really.<br />
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So Carl, went up on stage and began to tell all the parables from the gospels. He avoided the books of Paul and just tried to keep directly to the 4 gospels. After he was done he simply said he was finished at which point the peopled said..."More...More Carl! One more Hour!!"<br />
So He said he tried to continue and got maybe about another 20 good minutes in before he started petering out.<br />
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And then it dawned on him that he only knew Jesus enough to talk about him for and hour and 20 minutes.<br />
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But that's all they wanted to know.<br />
Skip all that church part and religion and Christianity and everything else. Tell me about Jesus! what is HE like?? Who is he??<br />
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Carl doesn't associate himself with the title Christian because he noted that over the years the real meaning in that title has been lost and now almost anybody will call themselves that. So he specifies that he is a follower of Jesus. When people say their not interested in religion. He says "good. me neither". because he finds no worth in religious or pious acts. But only in knowing his Lord Jesus.<br />
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He's written a few books on his travels into lands that are strong muslim areas. Places where many Christians won't go.<br />
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Christians, Muslims and Jesus<br />
and<br />
Speaking of Jesus - the art of non-evangelism.<br />
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Carl Medearis<br />
Here is a site where you can view more of this guys speaking or books.<br />
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<a href="http://www.carlmedearis.com/free-stuff/audio.php">http://www.carlmedearis.com/free-stuff/audio.php</a><br />
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Ghandi once said...."I like your Christ but I don't like your Christians" (<i>parapharased</i>)<br />
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What are we sharing with the world?<br />
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Do we share our church? or do we share our Lord?<br />
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Are we excited to show off our church programs and how attractive our pastors can speak? Or do we want people to be introduced to our amazing Lord Jesus and to experience his awesomeness?<br />
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Do we know our Lord? Or do we only know our religion?<br />
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<br />Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-44675615281792211202013-06-13T19:26:00.000-07:002013-06-13T19:26:38.919-07:00Close to Home<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I</span>f you knew that your child was somehow ill because they were eating rotting food each day, you would definitely act to the best of your ability to stop that. The fact is that rotting food can and will make a person sick and over time would lead to awful conditions in a persons physical makeup.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But what if I told you that food allergies and sensitives are just like that too.</span><br />
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here's my story.</span></i></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My oldest son is now 4 and doing very well. But it wasn't always like that. He was one of those children that just was not a very content baby. Then he moved into being an extremely moody toddler till finally at the age of nearly 2 he became uncontrollable in his behaviour and I didn't even want to leave the house or go anywhere with him. Me, my son and my new baby at that time became shut ins as it were. My husband was working long farming hours and tried to be of assistance to the growing problem, but wasn't really aware of the seriousness of it until near the end.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My oldest son who had started out with huge moodiness at around 1yr old or so had grown into all out tantrums that would include throwing himself to the ground and continually banging his head on the floor with no regard for the pain it was inflicting. It was extremely painful to see. And would go on for an hour at a time and several times throughout the day . He also had begun to bite himself on the arm in frustration. He would yell and cry and scream these schrill screams and then lash out with hitting. Underlining things I didn't notice until after was that he would often grip his stomach or head and never had a solid stool ever. These should have been warning signs but he was my first child.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now any person would easily say, he needs to go to the doctor. His aunt has extreme autism and most probably were suspecting that he had autism as well.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm a Christian so I was praying all the time for healing or that God would teach me to be a good mom, because obviously I was doing something totally wrong for my kid to act like this all through the day. Near the end I just prayed for deliverance because quite frankly I thought some evil had got ahold of him and I had no idea what was going on.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day I finally gave in and went down to the health unit in town to get a professional opinion. I wasn't sure what they would think of me as a mom. I was afraid they would take my kids away telling me I was doing it all wrong! I was more afraid they would want to put him on some medication that would just dope him up. But I just couldn't let my son go on like that. It was horrible to see and have nothing console him.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They did an assessment briefly and said they'd send someone over to observe him at home. At the same time I finally made an appointment with my family naturopath for some food allergy testing. I myself have a particular egg white allergy that makes me moody.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had the appointment with the lady from the health unit the same day I had the naturopath testing in the afternoon. When the lady came my son played on the floor with one car back and forth over and over. She noted his non enthusiastic attitude. He was pale. Although I wasn't sure how to fix that. And sure enough after a little bit he threw a tantrum on the floor with his head banging away.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just sat there and waited for him to finish. She looked at me surprized slightly at my non action.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"If your wondering why I'm not doing anything..." I said "its because this is what people have advised me to do. To ignore him when he acts like this. To walk away and give him no attention. That this is just a phase and it will pass. But its just been getting worse. I've tried to comfort him but he only gets worse from that too." She paused and thought about the situation. Then comforted my efforts and said she would come back with an action plan on this. To this day I am glad that she actually viewed what had been going on because so few people had seen him lash out.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That afternoon I brought him to the naturopath for the food testing. After we arrived I dreaded the idea of sitting through even a 15 min wait for fear of him lashing out and screaming. Those days I often got to carrying him around like a bag of luggage under my arm so that I wouldn't be kicked in the exit.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I gave him my cell to watch netflix and the doctor did the test, 10 minutes and it was done. No scratching or anything like that. Just an current from a machine through your hand and back to the machine.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It came out Wheat, Egg Whites, Cows Milk, All the food colours, sulphites and oranges.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I knew the egg whites well. This allergy had caused me many an argument and yelling at my home. It was like a thorn in my side that when I stopped eating eggs I wondered how I ever survived emotionally before that point. It literally just changed the way I looked at life and the people around me.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We took my son off everything for 6 weeks. However, within the first 4-6 days of taking him off the food we seen a drastic difference. We could go outside again. He was calm. He had solid stool. He was content. Smiling. He was like a different kid.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As time went on off the foods he's felt better and better. His speech is increasing and so are his social skills. The lady from the health unit helped to get him into regular daycare to give me rest and help him grow. Fantastic. But I know even she noted the huge difference it had on him.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Turned out that the wheat and cows milk were giving him a reaction similar to a gluten allergy. So it damaged his intestinal track and he wasn't able to absorb nutrients. This added to his paleness, lack of reaction, grabbing of his stomach and diarrhoea. The wheat/gluten also gave him headachs. The egg whites contributed to his sever anger and mood swings. The food color gave multiple problems like headaches and attention span issues.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I work at a youth centre and since that time I have noticed two separate youth who have got the food testing done and had anger issues. One is just on the 6 week stage and I hope it will give the life change it did for our family. The other one had different allergies than mine except the egg too. But she noted the anger and paranoia that came with eating egg whites.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For a better understanding of how these food have drastically changed peoples lives there is a great article on this and how it affects people with schizophrenia, alcohol addictions and much more. The education that food can actually change the way your brain works is new to the medical field but very relevant.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the link to topics of foods and how they can affect the brain function,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.alternativementalhealth.com/articles/brainallergies.htm</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We often complain that our kids are on too much prescription drugs and acting out. But like my son, it wasn't his actual normal behavior. It was his REaction to what he was eating.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's another site to finding a great naturopath in your area.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://findanaturopath.com/301/</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The allergy testing they do at the doctor is different from the one at the naturopaths. However, I don't have the information here to explain the differences.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In conclusion, as I work in a youth centre and am around youth all the time I so often see your average young person, diagnosed with some odd thing like personality disorder or bipolar or whatnot. Or I see a average person who is unusually skinny and tired. And I can't help but think to myself...I wonder if its what they are eating.</span><br />
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<br />Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-14730010720775306062013-04-25T17:44:00.000-07:002013-04-25T17:46:29.815-07:00High School <br />
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Being at the high school reminds me of being in high school. Many many years ago as it were.<br />
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The lighting is still in need of improvement. The halls are still packed at break and there is a overwhelming sense of insecurity in the piles of teenagers who are still trying to figure out who they are and what they want to be.<br />
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Its a society all of its own. No wonder teens often spout off to their parents that they don't know what their talking about and its like their from a different planet. They are! Parents are from the reality outside of school and teens live in the society within school. Which now happens to include txting and social networking.<br />
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So here is a crash course on High School Society. First. Learn to dress. Which never is learned. Either your too colourful or too dark. Too masculin or too femine (and thats for both guys and gals). Your too fat or too thin. It doesn't matter what you wear or what you look like - Its never whats in style!!!<br />
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Confidence is in style.<br />
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Next, you need to choose if you'll do your work well or slack off. Because this will make you accepted into totally different groups. If you are good at your work and get good grades, don't brag.<br />
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Could I dare to venture to say that sports are for kids from families with money??? well. That's not 100%. Its just that quite frankly sports participation costs. And if its not in the equipment, its in the travel.<br />
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What if your an introvert.?? Well keep your head low. Forbid that you should say something and draw attention to yourself. Who knows what kind of attention it would bring. Best to keep in the books. Hang out in the library. Hang out in the music or computer rooms. Anywhere where you can disappear!<br />
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In the high school there is so many different groups its hard to keep track.<br />
But one thing remains the same.<br />
They really just want someone to make contact. To say hello or even notice that they exist!. To cheer them on or sit quietly and share the space.<br />
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You think I'm talking about myself. But I'm not.<br />
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Jesus is like that. He shares your space.Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-20804152569903363432012-12-23T18:17:00.000-08:002012-12-23T18:17:24.066-08:00Protect Your Wives<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I remember sitting in my young adults small group when I was 25 and the married female leader said...yeah there are lots of guys who will "die for you" but I always ask mine "will you just do the dishes?".</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">We fall in love with men we feel close to, make us laugh and most of all have our backs. It doesn't matter if they are buff beef eaters or scrawny skinny jean fashionistas. We envision our husbands as our hero if push came to shove.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Truth be told though many of our men never have to really bare fists in a chivalrous pursuit for our sake. It just doesn't come to that. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">But there is an area that it does. In a spiritual sense it does all the time. Every day. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Are the men we married barring fists against a devil that seeks to destroy everything he has, including his wife and loved ones?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Recently in the last few months I've pushed my husband on the topic of, if you really loved me you would keep me in prayer. That may seem a bit selfish or self absorbed. But seriously, he's my man! I pray for him all the time. I raise him up to God often. I only expect the same.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So he did.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I will confess that there is slightly nothing more sexy than a man who has said, when you've overcome some big obstacle... "yeah, I've been praying that you would get through that". </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My warrior! My guy who has my back like I have his. Talking to Father God when I am down and out. Seriously. That is love. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So my encouragement to all men is to pray everyday for your woman. Get out there and be persistent and passionate in your prayers. And not just for her to have a good day. Perk up your ears to what is burning on her heart and what aches in her soul. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Put up your fists against evil and reach out to your Father as God Almighty, knowing he'll move mountains.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Many Christian men may seem quiet and subtle. But truthfully a Christian man who has his ears perked to his wife and his head bowed to Jesus. Now that's a real man!</span><br />
<br />Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-51382129856627217702012-11-28T19:12:00.001-08:002012-11-28T19:12:22.378-08:00Who Dareth to Laugheth<div>
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Running late I grabbed a blueberry muffin and hot chocolate at the local Coffee Culture and headed over to the church for praise team practice. </div>
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As I came in it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere and we all got ready to sing and play.</div>
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I set my muffin and coffee on the table at the front of the church.</div>
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Taking the muffin I popped the top (seinfeld).....and paused.....</div>
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And there is was. A moment that was either funny or sacrilegious...or a bit of both.....</div>
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"this is my body...broken and given for you...do this in remembrance of me..."</div>
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And I bit into my blueberry muffin....</div>
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Then Kegan came over for the hot chocolate part....</div>
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"and take this cup....."</div>
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"drink this in remembrance of me..."</div>
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Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-33099001095476630332012-11-26T17:45:00.003-08:002012-11-26T17:47:09.037-08:00Feed me something I like!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There was probably a point in my life when I really enjoyed grocery shopping. Like when I was single. And had just moved out. The time in my life when I thought it was reasonable to buy ice cream and frutopia at full price. I didn't even look for the word Sale!</div>
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Walking out of a grocery story hauling a nearly $250 shopping cart of food and household products though can be a bit devastating to the thrill of it all.</div>
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However all the price doesn't even daunt me these days. I have in my home little people with food allergies. Oh yes. That's right. Things we didn't barely bat an eye at when I was a kid. Now, its life or death (not literally) if I don't buy gluten free!</div>
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I walk into the grocery store like a unsaddled cowgirl ready for a fight. My sinister enemies are wheat, egg whites, oranges, sulphites, cows milk and all the food colouring. But that's only for my oldest son. I'm a no egg white and no milk kinda gal. While my other son is no milk and corn. But we don't even try for no corn. That's near impossible. So he's on his own surviving. And my dear husband has his own foods but he's decided he doesn't care and is going to eat whatever the heck he wants to eat! </div>
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I go through the grocery store once over for my son with the long list. Its just easier that way. I then proceed back through the isles for everyone else and all the REaL FoOD! </div>
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Today was a day in the store where I was just plain tired. It felt like I hadn't really fed my children in ages. I kept short cutting meals to peanut butter sandwiches (GF bread) and cheese and craker meals. Little people always turn their nose up at finely prepared meals anyways.</div>
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So I just bought today. I just got what I needed and didn't wander about over the prices. </div>
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Circling around for my second lap of the place I stood in the cereal isle. It occurred to me that in getting everyone else's likes and allergies I rarely shopped for what I wanted. Unless it was a quick junk food buy at the end. I know ... sad.</div>
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So there I was...me and the cereal isle.</div>
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oh the choices! the selection! the price! ouch!</div>
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on second thought. Personal food was so overrated. Knock off brand frosted flakes it is. Now lets blow this popsicle stand!!</div>
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Well grocery store. We'll always have those good single years. </div>
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Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-35919314953811193382012-04-18T09:32:00.000-07:002012-04-18T09:32:05.239-07:00who are you if striped down to the base?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2Wth7AZMzKXObAKNxU-JnAQn74xXQldtLgO_ZLN-P-Ld99KsLZRmWz-DUCrIFc5fo91KFjsmdHTidcW6LBabMv5vSUyFsQUD2L2JyaDTcRPOkfCjaUAQHIkSI1TGKBzarfkVuM1gCjw/s1600/basicMW01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2Wth7AZMzKXObAKNxU-JnAQn74xXQldtLgO_ZLN-P-Ld99KsLZRmWz-DUCrIFc5fo91KFjsmdHTidcW6LBabMv5vSUyFsQUD2L2JyaDTcRPOkfCjaUAQHIkSI1TGKBzarfkVuM1gCjw/s320/basicMW01.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Lets peel back some layers of "YOU"<br />
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Who would you be if you were not measured by your job?<br />
If you were not seen as a 'spouse' or found worth in having children?<br />
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Who would you be if the style you wore didn't define you and so it was torn off you till you stood naked?<br />
And If your weight had no weight on who you were either....<br />
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Who would you be if you could erase a past of hurt that taught you to hurt.<br />
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Who would you be if you didn't struggle with that ailment, allergy, or handy cap?<br />
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Strip off the titles<br />
...the fashion...<br />
the insecurities...<br />
...the pain...<br />
and the physical hold backs....<br />
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and who are you?Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-67905815536959754262012-02-15T08:34:00.000-08:002012-02-15T08:34:15.696-08:00Lost and no where to be foundTwo weeks ago I took out a dvd for Crazy Love. A series my small group is studying. I put it in my playstation and discovering that it didn't play. Or I think that's what it was...its been another week or so and now I can't quite remember the events properly. I think i ended up setting it down ..or maybe not.<div>Anyways. Here I am. Scouring my house for it now. </div><div>It amazing when you've lost something of value how you will search relentlessly for it. I have checked under every piece of furniture on the first floor, including the appliances! I have found toys that have been lost for quite a while but no dvd. </div><div>I even gave way to the thought that maybe my kids had stuck it under the rug and pulled that up to check. Pulled stuff out of cuboards they have access to and as I look my house is slowly getting cleaner. </div><div>So now I'm done this floor. With no idea where it could be. </div><div>The last time I had dvd's missing they had actually still been in the player. My kids would pick up the player and turn it over and the dvd would fall inside of it. I found 3 veggie tales in there! But that player is long gone now.</div><div>Part of me worries...did they put it in the garbage? I hope not.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The bible talks about a woman who lost some money in her home so she looked all over with persistance until she found it. Another story tells of a man who found a gem in a field and went home and sold everything he had and then bought the field. </div><div><br />
</div><div>It goes to show that when we lose something of value, to what great lengths we'll go to find it.</div><div><br />
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</div>Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-26149826614113566892012-02-13T11:16:00.000-08:002012-02-13T11:16:00.782-08:00Made in Heaven. Sustained by God<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkfSgN9JKwr-0p1yJ7bv91DJrHCIBoOEX2TbU3tBPwWhXDlBcENMRo-O7KXY1s9LwL49Dwflp5oJn7DZP7Yr5TRy3nq_63PhQFmW6AoZekvmfvQxr9e1Quq9VvwG-Uefj5Kj7LikRsrEM/s1600/IMG_1738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkfSgN9JKwr-0p1yJ7bv91DJrHCIBoOEX2TbU3tBPwWhXDlBcENMRo-O7KXY1s9LwL49Dwflp5oJn7DZP7Yr5TRy3nq_63PhQFmW6AoZekvmfvQxr9e1Quq9VvwG-Uefj5Kj7LikRsrEM/s320/IMG_1738.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cXURIWeV-xRSbHOJcIoJzplH4WgCRSM-gNmBfi7h2_vISxvC2SHg8B2hO8AB6qsKZ1C5O-fE_IGUh8tK2ggbmkKqvkijQg_oGOtIMGOOISfybgoXpxJjtgtVb1_AG8dGJuCL1FK4UqI/s1600/IMG_1650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cXURIWeV-xRSbHOJcIoJzplH4WgCRSM-gNmBfi7h2_vISxvC2SHg8B2hO8AB6qsKZ1C5O-fE_IGUh8tK2ggbmkKqvkijQg_oGOtIMGOOISfybgoXpxJjtgtVb1_AG8dGJuCL1FK4UqI/s320/IMG_1650.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjoWdUBNQO7WMnbcjuQDLhRw35MuFHNXeEQRV1OEI0KNLdrJcEXbGtEsKt4RU8KS80RVNsFK3YLD7-3N9-rTijQDv8FWojB6SYxmhX4R29F_07vfHQvCRl4FqGnAKNfY2UXKqi7EnIN4/s1600/IMG_1737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjoWdUBNQO7WMnbcjuQDLhRw35MuFHNXeEQRV1OEI0KNLdrJcEXbGtEsKt4RU8KS80RVNsFK3YLD7-3N9-rTijQDv8FWojB6SYxmhX4R29F_07vfHQvCRl4FqGnAKNfY2UXKqi7EnIN4/s320/IMG_1737.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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I heard this song I think it was talking about how we are to do everything to God's glory. I've been learning more about what God's glory IS and just how that effects my life personally.<br />
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In my head giving glory to God represents recognizing both out loud and in our being that everything we have came from Him. He has made and sustains me. I am unable to live apart from Him. He alone makes my heart beat each day and my morning coffee brew to its fullest!. For all of that immenseness I am designed to turn to God and say....Thank you. That - is glory. Recognizing...its not me..its Him. (and letting others know that too...out loud...in our native tongue..)<br />
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So here I am. Frustrated at having two boys who are crawling on everything and drooling everywhere and we are unable to get out because their nap times are synchronized to be one after the other instead of together. I can't go to our home church because they cry and wail and break my heart that they dislike it there. I don't dare do groceries anymore with both of them! And my home is a disaster zone. Company be advised!<br />
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So glory to God in the highest from a home of crazy mom and kids.?/......<br />
<br />
In attempts of this I did two things only today. I washed my cuboards and railing of dust and ceiling fans of dust. Fed us all. Then sat down on the carpet and played with them.<br />
<br />
Just played. Hows that for glory. Oh yeah. Thank you God for kids! now I'm going to actually ENJOY having my kids!! I'm going to zoom cars around and break up "mine" arguments. I will hug and kiss and cuddle and dance with and roll around with.<br />
<br />
Because..Thank you. You sustain me God. And you sustain my relationship with my boys too.Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-5806760717818189002011-12-29T14:03:00.000-08:002011-12-29T14:05:08.209-08:00Year End<div style="text-align: center;"> <a class="link" data-bk="36.1" data-bns="Y.1" href="http://images.search.yahoo.com/images/view;_ylt=A0PDoX_z4_xO8y8AvBKJzbkF;_ylu=X3oDMTBlMTQ4cGxyBHNlYwNzcgRzbGsDaW1n?back=http%3A%2F%2Fimages.search.yahoo.com%2Fsearch%2Fimages%3Fp%3Dnew%2Byears%26_adv_prop%3Dimage%26va%3Dnew%2Byears%26fr%3Dmoz35%26tab%3Dorganic%26ri%3D46&w=1920&h=1200&imgurl=www.hdwallpapers.in%2Fwalls%2F2012_happy_new_year-wide.jpg&rurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.hdwallpapers.in%2F2012_happy_new_year-wallpapers.html&size=1.4+KB&name=2012+Happy+New+Year+Wallpapers+%7C+HD+Desktop+Wallpapers&p=new+years&oid=b70107d8fdbcb62effd11685669fc526&fr2=&fr=moz35&tt=2012%2BHappy%2BNew%2BYear%2BWallpapers%2B%257C%2BHD%2BDesktop%2BWallpapers&b=31&ni=112&no=46&tab=organic&ts=&sigr=11ulo7ag4&sigb=13gk0kclv&sigi=11mr0pdcm&.crumb=2csxLBS/6Jb" id="ihover-img-wrap" style="height: 187px;"><img alt="" height="187" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=1518702760013&id=a473b34807d361167029eb97faf92fcc" width="300" /></a></div><br />
At the end of each year magazines and new stations across the globe like to mark some of the great moments in 2011 (or whatever year it is!)<br />
This year we settled into our new home, moving in in Dec. of 2010.<br />
We then proceeded to have our second son, Benjamin Marcus Wilkins, at 7lbs 14 oz.<br />
Caleb, our oldest, wasn't really impressed with the new arrival and has only recently begun to accept his presence.<br />
<br />
In the spring I was excited to be accepted as staff at Youth For Christ in Wingham and then proceeded to start fundraising. I would in December of 2011 finally be titled as hired and ready to start work Jan. 2nd 2012.<br />
<br />
Our summer was filled with youth nights and a trip to African Lions Safari. I had a couple wedding photo jobs and some family gatherings as is the usual on the Wilkins side.<br />
<br />
Somewhere over the summer Caleb lost his baby look and adopted his little kid look. Ben began to crawl quickly and motor around.<br />
<br />
In June my dad passed away. Rick Bell. He was 53 I think.....<br />
I didn't really realize it at the time that he was gone. I saw him in the casket, and I had a time of tears. But at each holiday passes it settles in how wide the cavern of death keeps us apart.<br />
<br />
I read Isaiah again. But God told me to slow down and not eat my food so fast. So I did. And now I know why the Israelites disliked the Ninivites in Jonah on Veggie Tales. I also fell in love with John 1:5 "There is a light in the darkness. And the darkness can never extinguish it!".<br />
<br />
Fall was quite mostly. Harvest time for Tim. And he got his AZ-R.<br />
<br />
Now its the end of Dec. I was blessed with family and friends this season. I think often of our youth kids just as if they were our own. I think of my dad with grief. I look forward to 2012 working at the youth center. And again keeping to an old resolution NOT to make any more resolutions on New Years....I stand firm! :)<br />
<br />
Happy New Year<br />
<div class="dragWrapper"><a class="uiMediaThumb uiScrollableThumb uiMediaThumbHuge" data-src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/300657_10150756070465068_742170067_20230205_3430164_a.jpg" href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150756070465068&set=a.10150694191155068.704577.742170067&type=3" id="pic_10150756070465068" name="10150756070465068" rel="theater" title=""></a></div>Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-24107375710078389282011-12-28T15:32:00.000-08:002011-12-28T15:32:01.708-08:00Don't label Him.<div id="i_mc"><span class="i_mcu"><br />
</span></div><br />
<br />
Distressed, I wonder what is wrong. I wish I knew. I worry that its something I've done..have I been too impatient. Too demanding. Too leaneant?<br />
My son is angered by so many things. The wheel on his tractor won't roll right. His brother picked up his toy. We have people over. Almost anything may set him off some days. His tantrums are fits of flails and him purposely hitting his head on the floor or really anything, including us. <br />
I first began with me. What have I done? What did I do that made him like this? When I calmed every piece of my being in working with him he still lashed out and I am exhausted.<br />
Why do I write this. At least why publicly? Well its real. Its not just a simple walk away kind of child. He will tantrum whether I'm there or not. Whether I come see or leave him be.<br />
I looked to writings and found a simple but complex explanation...<br />
The title was "The sensitive Toddler". Written on whattoexpect.com Going on to describe a chile that struggles with everyday things. I read and felt that yes, in an extreme sense this describes him. <br />
But it absolutely scares me. It said that if it was beyond this point or that point to have it checked out and every part of me holds back because quite frankly, I just don't want my child to have a title.Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-1513530538441007462011-12-12T12:01:00.000-08:002011-12-12T12:01:37.810-08:00Shut in.<div align="center"><a href="http://www.stuffintheair.com/thermometerpictures.html" title="learn about measuring temperatures"><img alt="Dig Snow" border="0" height="375" src="http://www.stuffintheair.com/images/SnowDigging.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br />
Sometimes I feel like a bit of a shut in. Well...a lot like a shut in. Since my second son was born last February we've been moving through all those stages and finally are arriving on him almost walking.<br />
A friend of mine had two boys almost the same amount of time appart as mine. When I met her she was adjusting to going out with two boys. And I only had my oldest at that time. I remember thinking..what's the big deal. Wrap em up and out we go!<br />
<br />
But not now...nope. Wrap up two boys with different nap times and food requirements and movement abilities. In the day I have two windows of time consisting of 2 hours to go outside.Sometimes only one. Going outside means getting two squirming kids into snowsuits. One can't walk yet but crawls away when I'm ready to go.<br />
Once outside they don't play together so I'm left chasing two kids. One who doesn't want to be left alone but can't walk after me.<br />
Finally. When the youngest gets cold first the oldest doesn't want to come in and throws a tantrum out on the street. limbs and head flailing for all the neighbors to see. And he's too young to just leave out on his own. He'd just walk into the street.<br />
<br />
So a year....out in the summer on the grass but this cold weather has been killing us. We go out when one is down but sometimes on grumpy days we may not go out at all....<br />
<br />
A shut in...<br />
<br />
So glad my youngest is learning to walk....<br />
its all a stage...Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-53481332597719724202011-10-19T13:01:00.000-07:002011-10-19T13:01:49.752-07:00Self<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a class="rg_hl" href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?q=pics+of+calendar&hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=SId&sa=X&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1440&bih=697&tbm=isch&prmd=imvns&tbnid=6nneYhlRkX69NM:&imgrefurl=http://www.lifehack.org/articles/productivity/back-to-basics-your-calendar.html&docid=XzshUk-d5-7XGM&imgurl=http://assets.lifehack.org/wp-content/files/2008/07/20080725-calendar1.jpg&w=440&h=313&ei=5CufTv3ZLujRiALe7_1h&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=395&vpy=143&dur=3030&hovh=189&hovw=266&tx=117&ty=112&sig=104230545815382104951&page=5&tbnh=142&tbnw=213&start=79&ndsp=19&ved=1t:429,r:14,s:79" id="rg_hl" style="height: 189px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 266px;"><img alt="" class="rg_hi" data-height="189" data-width="266" height="189" id="rg_hi" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTuBmjX9fYgLPmLiYPRBOJSmkyIW1MdM4PWbyoiSgAUByiDf37N" style="height: 189px; width: 266px;" width="266" /></a></div> <span class="rg_ctlv"></span>Is someone allowed to inconvience you? I hate when people do. When my kids get up earlier than I want to get up. When they cry and I have to pick them up for the hundreth time. When people ask me to change my scheduel or my hair is deciding to make its own style for the day.<br />
I rarley if ever allow God to inconvience me. Its not good I know. I make quiet time when I'm ready. I sit with my bible and read and pray and then expect him to jump to attention. And as I somberly drift away in my thoughts onto some chore that I need to do, I expect him to understand that I'm done with our quiet time.<br />
<br />
I can't think of the last time I let God inconvience me. When his work or words or time intruded on my time and I said "yes..." .<br />
<br />
I think sometimes that I may be an exceptionally selfish individual because deep down inside my scheduel is primary. And God's is changeable. Really it should be the other way around.<br />
<br />
He is so patient...<br />
I feel like a child when in comparison. When I think of my maturity towards situations and relationships. It may take me my whole life to grow up. And even then he'll still be more.Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-40159970818223748142011-10-13T18:46:00.000-07:002011-10-13T18:46:26.391-07:00Thanksgiving weekendWe made it through Thanksgiving. I thought I would hate it all to be truthful. With two kids ages 2 and 8 months I am on constant alert for the next tempertantrum red signs or on the look out for the next Tim Horton's so I can get a cup of hot water to warm a bottle.<br />
<br />
But it was great. Like really great. This second or third year at it was almost enjoyable! <br />
<br />
At my brothers my son disapeared into the basement with the other kids and I barely saw him all evening except for supper where he mimicked his older cousin with every action. He was so hyper and high on life I dreaded leaving thinking of the tantrum that would ensue. However, nothing. His cousin lead him out to the car and his other cousin, a sweet little girl, pasted him with hugs and kisses to say bye.<br />
<br />
I loved the moment and wished all our holidays could be like that.<br />
<br />
At our second location my oldest found delight in running up and down a ramp and stairs outside. Came in to eat and right back out. One trantrum was minor and short lived and then to the swings and extremly old teeter-totter. One apparently his dad had been on when he was a child.<br />
<br />
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The moment I think I know him he amazes me . I thought for a mere second that I had my head around God. That I finally "got it". And there he went, showing me how much bigger than my brain he is.<br />
<br />
I wanted to give the Holy Spirit room to move and work. There had been a worship session done a few months ago at church in the evening where it included music and prayer and the Spirit having the freedom to move. Just a sense of no agenda.<br />
<br />
So I thought..Again! we need that again! no structure! no agenda!. And then my husband bats that out of the field with...."well if your doing the same thing twice hoping to get a random worship session of unplanned, no agenda. You are making it planned by planning it. You are scheduling it hoping for the same action of randomness. "<br />
<br />
And I was....<br />
<br />
I wanted the very same great experience of the Holy Spirit working on me as it had then. And it wasn't possible. Because I loved how we weren't told to sit and to stand. To be praising or in prayer. It was just arriving that made it great. Arriving with no agenda. But to do it twice suddenly starts an agenda...<br />
I wanted God to come close like he had then. But I'm not who I was then, even if it was a few months ago.<br />
<br />
We have so many "traditions" these days. Church every Sunday. In a building. With music, then prayer, then preaching then prayer then music then coffee.<br />
But how many "traditions" does God have in the bible. Some festivals in the year. And communion.<br />
When did we box God up? Stifle him into a building and brick him in? When did we put a sheet of agenda in front of him and say..meet us on Sunday at this time and this place.<br />
I want to unbox him and throw away that sheet and say "God, tell me where to meet you! What do you have in store ? What will we do with you today?"Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-9467415882613402252011-09-14T09:59:00.000-07:002011-09-14T09:59:36.854-07:00My Cuddlemonkey's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitF10CeO5d24RZ-aRF8VHnQdHO-zO-By7D6th8eoQTSEL8HqN4usSJwAfNCk-XdHs3z5mfCd2pJCO1vcGRcewd5iG7gUU67CcoN7VeQT3wKajwi_JpWpDn8SdjWkP_9-PqiS1msQoHzqg/s1600/_mg_8016+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitF10CeO5d24RZ-aRF8VHnQdHO-zO-By7D6th8eoQTSEL8HqN4usSJwAfNCk-XdHs3z5mfCd2pJCO1vcGRcewd5iG7gUU67CcoN7VeQT3wKajwi_JpWpDn8SdjWkP_9-PqiS1msQoHzqg/s320/_mg_8016+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOpjNtlt-hKJv97HmPgT8JV8jBTfk9yICfhXUbHjyks4Q8WUojx0EA7yOxjdBFpEhKLysyTTUb_Sz_fdggGZp4xgNQT7YuMPi2UNkk-Vmu4wfRdmT2fnSff5A_P_Xi4iUF9JIPqAeRX8/s1600/_mg_8029_1+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOpjNtlt-hKJv97HmPgT8JV8jBTfk9yICfhXUbHjyks4Q8WUojx0EA7yOxjdBFpEhKLysyTTUb_Sz_fdggGZp4xgNQT7YuMPi2UNkk-Vmu4wfRdmT2fnSff5A_P_Xi4iUF9JIPqAeRX8/s320/_mg_8029_1+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhGdzbicfeKfSrH9mMbFcyqi2S755KmWVGQHv01CDakqb1S1C4OzOdXi1JGihIXbXWNOO-wOS_t-zmOI_VKhq87AWKY549x1pbTbFwo7snOf_eHi5_Bf5zLa8fY3E4Y8-JcBHf_fueI8/s1600/_mg_8031+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhGdzbicfeKfSrH9mMbFcyqi2S755KmWVGQHv01CDakqb1S1C4OzOdXi1JGihIXbXWNOO-wOS_t-zmOI_VKhq87AWKY549x1pbTbFwo7snOf_eHi5_Bf5zLa8fY3E4Y8-JcBHf_fueI8/s320/_mg_8031+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOiKDZVIdJ5tm4wkpo8q92BOZFsOJRWTKJ_j-tagGTLRNNKUFNa_WzeKWRt04Uya4eJtTPUYAq-SnEfJUdBDw2xtR8CWPIgC8h7vBXOjgVNFz5uY9quH57MOx3Xxnxh51QoS2yIPGGePA/s1600/_mg_8043+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOiKDZVIdJ5tm4wkpo8q92BOZFsOJRWTKJ_j-tagGTLRNNKUFNa_WzeKWRt04Uya4eJtTPUYAq-SnEfJUdBDw2xtR8CWPIgC8h7vBXOjgVNFz5uY9quH57MOx3Xxnxh51QoS2yIPGGePA/s320/_mg_8043+copy.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ksC4i7k7Z-8OGBcqYeGTIgHmroKe-H7xQDkfyAD43hiROpCICf4ygLJ9HqE6WlQlF1pS9d6smNd6giTuJVM4sqbG2kzGtGWpYjJwhJYWEn9dIO2ZPgWzr7Bm66MHGYDgpGsIiW7piXA/s1600/_mg_80431+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ksC4i7k7Z-8OGBcqYeGTIgHmroKe-H7xQDkfyAD43hiROpCICf4ygLJ9HqE6WlQlF1pS9d6smNd6giTuJVM4sqbG2kzGtGWpYjJwhJYWEn9dIO2ZPgWzr7Bm66MHGYDgpGsIiW7piXA/s320/_mg_80431+copy.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-43837042144060514012011-09-13T17:45:00.000-07:002011-09-13T17:45:16.008-07:00Ride an Elephant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tXpPvqyIb5OXu0NEpfGKZsfNLzATt_T_IqaerWuZvmEH1Ye8ZcmndmUPxBhS5IBEQRqk16EIbUFR8iOh9U1FDdk4XAkjXlEenDhWymlFqEZfbmUWaoz1KDwBaybP0edcNNIwGIK9A54/s1600/044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tXpPvqyIb5OXu0NEpfGKZsfNLzATt_T_IqaerWuZvmEH1Ye8ZcmndmUPxBhS5IBEQRqk16EIbUFR8iOh9U1FDdk4XAkjXlEenDhWymlFqEZfbmUWaoz1KDwBaybP0edcNNIwGIK9A54/s320/044.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>At the age of about 9 I walked into my first circus. There were colors and sounds and excitement all over and kids running along side smiling parents.<br />
I was travelling with my friend and her mom. They had invited me along with them which I normally wouldn't have gone with my parents.<br />
When we entered the trasformed local arena that then appeared as that of a circus ring show area I grew with excitment and talked away with my friend about all we were seeing. It was the preview time before hand and you could visit the clowns or ride the elephant.<br />
Over the speaker my name was called and I almost wasn't sure it was me. I had won a door prize. A sparkly baton that I held high and swirled around. A prize I could not have bought.<br />
Before the show started my friend and her mom went on the elephant. I remember wanting so much to go on too but it was $5. I had got in with a free ticket from school and won a baton but all these things were given to me and I could not have got them on my own. I was a poor kid. We just didn't have money and my mom wasn't about to give us money to go to the circus with. <br />
I think inside I always wanted to go on that elephant ride. Like some long lost kid dream that you stick away somewhere.<br />
<br />
I'm 31 now. And I paid $5 at African Lions Safari so that me and my oldest boy could enjoy an elephant ride. There was something so important on the inside of me to take that ride. To pay that $5 dollars and ride that tiny track and get my photo taken.<br />
Somewhere on the inside I remembered what it was like to not have that $5 and I've never appreciated such a child's ride so much that I could ever remember.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2eSX0RShImw-7n2IcKnN2sqr2s4jV5S6lYPj8yEH-jQuHUN5yLW9o12MGEZOMiigveRjNAcKfdum-f_XlYF_ceu0ysHImO6eEEr7tl9pc3TnsPqggsSE9nhyphenhyphenJwRnFBxPESXm_G2Br94/s1600/042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2eSX0RShImw-7n2IcKnN2sqr2s4jV5S6lYPj8yEH-jQuHUN5yLW9o12MGEZOMiigveRjNAcKfdum-f_XlYF_ceu0ysHImO6eEEr7tl9pc3TnsPqggsSE9nhyphenhyphenJwRnFBxPESXm_G2Br94/s320/042.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2TiTAcEJhkAj5gkQeuSxAz2Kqs3DVNA1tfidMwRqwxWThlBdjHz-hU_l88G9XwCx9EH9EIhaLCmkcS5OJ6FSqRP636aa0jZW98XHRiZ_VANb8102oVRmbGAXuj7cBhN1wJKirTc3Eno/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2TiTAcEJhkAj5gkQeuSxAz2Kqs3DVNA1tfidMwRqwxWThlBdjHz-hU_l88G9XwCx9EH9EIhaLCmkcS5OJ6FSqRP636aa0jZW98XHRiZ_VANb8102oVRmbGAXuj7cBhN1wJKirTc3Eno/s320/043.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-41695165679788591902011-09-07T18:46:00.000-07:002011-09-07T18:46:58.652-07:00Big Ben<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyHzp7wIh4q_UFp2CbRbdOSk2rDpIKunkWXY4J7DZ8txOM5plRJAH08EA8ULicwM1c8DePzTPI8jQj-HoXkv8hjlv23l0Lxyuh55QvY_UNR0Pv15SDYcubOKreeCuWfJ3HyoLAXMzppRw/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyHzp7wIh4q_UFp2CbRbdOSk2rDpIKunkWXY4J7DZ8txOM5plRJAH08EA8ULicwM1c8DePzTPI8jQj-HoXkv8hjlv23l0Lxyuh55QvY_UNR0Pv15SDYcubOKreeCuWfJ3HyoLAXMzppRw/s320/012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> He's big, beautiful Benjamin. He wakes in the morning with squeals of delight. I wander in in half a daze to find a boy who loves to wake up in the morning. Obviously taking after his dad.<br />
<br />
I must admit that I take some special delight to see other babies of the same age. In comparison I haven't seen one that measures to the length or structure of my big Ben. Inside I <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwjFq0fhAi2h3TSLFwYprf6GXy6MjpwRJSyCkZbYJgO056fj9umFwC3NEiR_AGscBFBgcs-KmZ1Oh4rWJ3FHxjOgmx6jiB6FFSB61mQGsU8VDw8FBt8kFhPkCwZ_L7_obWDOV75mQkrHw/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwjFq0fhAi2h3TSLFwYprf6GXy6MjpwRJSyCkZbYJgO056fj9umFwC3NEiR_AGscBFBgcs-KmZ1Oh4rWJ3FHxjOgmx6jiB6FFSB61mQGsU8VDw8FBt8kFhPkCwZ_L7_obWDOV75mQkrHw/s320/015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> smile with joy to think I may have a big son when he grows up.<br />
Something about the idea of having two boys taller than my husband and I both is such a point of pride for me as a mom.<br />
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Aside from his size I love his eyes. They seem so soft and curious of the world around him. No fears or worries. Just a tenderness that only seems to <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN2EK7seE1zzNhItf229l0qRZVgwLnLxdYFeAGqqCTt0n0bbpI1kdK5-ADxOsEn2wsEV2bAWLiwezU7PzcYXOfZPRLgrja882i-cupUpdCbRZkvwfP5RS2Nli33LnBKdvFo17ciiIbU8c/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN2EK7seE1zzNhItf229l0qRZVgwLnLxdYFeAGqqCTt0n0bbpI1kdK5-ADxOsEn2wsEV2bAWLiwezU7PzcYXOfZPRLgrja882i-cupUpdCbRZkvwfP5RS2Nli33LnBKdvFo17ciiIbU8c/s320/016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> last a short while when we are young.<br />
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With a large open mouth smile he greets onlookers and stares in a way that would be rude if he were an adult. But since he's a baby people take it as a compliment that he finds them interesting. They'll smile back and wonder what is so special about them that a baby would care to look so long.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKh0BMFSKp1tsUb8ZtbJKloSYMkIkcl5emGy4-x-sWRKW5unWYoFnBxUJCFuqdOBZsEaoq1OFr3rTw5WP_TGBMo1-Cz7IT4c9v6Ep52aOKm4n-mk_D1cfPfG6C1rk2E2VkIjjd6Q5jNdc/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKh0BMFSKp1tsUb8ZtbJKloSYMkIkcl5emGy4-x-sWRKW5unWYoFnBxUJCFuqdOBZsEaoq1OFr3rTw5WP_TGBMo1-Cz7IT4c9v6Ep52aOKm4n-mk_D1cfPfG6C1rk2E2VkIjjd6Q5jNdc/s320/017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And at night, I tuck him in giving him a bottle in bed. As I hold it I give a big yawn and he stares and then smiles as if I have told a hilarious joke. I don't know what is so funny about me yawning but he certainly must think my gap is huge, because he pauses every time to smile. And I think to myself..baby, why do you stare at me? what is so interesting?Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-22758474905094842792011-09-05T05:43:00.000-07:002011-09-05T05:43:59.621-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlmVcUr5KVERKkMp6dH7V9Col2jpglIf3IPFwdaxKmvdJ83GhkGThCfm91XzzNoL31n1KbiSI4i4UzKML2fhS8tMGSb7YyF_tJSnXVN8M6l_SEFK-71IS8sm4WkMyCK-GyJMQ3sHQYoRo/s1600/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlmVcUr5KVERKkMp6dH7V9Col2jpglIf3IPFwdaxKmvdJ83GhkGThCfm91XzzNoL31n1KbiSI4i4UzKML2fhS8tMGSb7YyF_tJSnXVN8M6l_SEFK-71IS8sm4WkMyCK-GyJMQ3sHQYoRo/s320/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+008.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Two kids packed, two grown ups good to go. We headed out on the road for our two hour drive to a family shin dig.<br />
I love and hate road trips. They consist of massive packing and the hope that our children will sleep on the way. Mostly they are good and just watch out the windows. We've got better at knowing to be on the ball with road trip food,snacks,drinks and meal times. This makes it all easier.<br />
We arrive and I am no longer a primary care giver. My youngest is wisked away and my oldest plays in the dirt till he looks like "pig pen" from Charlie Brown.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIlzfU864HvKgYVGJHa3EgvXcHuPPa4b57ZypLEJ91_SAeI62NBYoYrivvhK918HOhlfbzIGBbuQ-PAH9DqMs-ij7oMqjnl0HJhfo-muFppu4V7qCoeibWvh7zxL63pmAFeavbLK41gA/s1600/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIlzfU864HvKgYVGJHa3EgvXcHuPPa4b57ZypLEJ91_SAeI62NBYoYrivvhK918HOhlfbzIGBbuQ-PAH9DqMs-ij7oMqjnl0HJhfo-muFppu4V7qCoeibWvh7zxL63pmAFeavbLK41gA/s320/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvEMHwRM9rLmilD-NvqbQQCOeBitj3E7UrWj2BzlVeZjozX4AynFWRG34KjhEVyTpUfvV526D9U-C-WoPEW0pr7TRJekNyCoPokWPV7AEe81uEvbyzSeYMKw8qGl_96zHlDpE1ZNsYts/s1600/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvEMHwRM9rLmilD-NvqbQQCOeBitj3E7UrWj2BzlVeZjozX4AynFWRG34KjhEVyTpUfvV526D9U-C-WoPEW0pr7TRJekNyCoPokWPV7AEe81uEvbyzSeYMKw8qGl_96zHlDpE1ZNsYts/s320/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The day's filled with food, laughter, model plane show and water ballons. And my oldest who hates the local water park get willingly hosed down by his cousin.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79ClLl1QUR4mLwqkxrJaEOfiwX1_6C_zonGmd77J8s2UGGudiaoL4W87nHjWGsFRjaWUMRxcTGUfZprLXADfVC_MN0XWT1YCJvu8KgGYhjkHcb1Sw72NJglXjMKYjciOxqiiZyHnHml0/s1600/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79ClLl1QUR4mLwqkxrJaEOfiwX1_6C_zonGmd77J8s2UGGudiaoL4W87nHjWGsFRjaWUMRxcTGUfZprLXADfVC_MN0XWT1YCJvu8KgGYhjkHcb1Sw72NJglXjMKYjciOxqiiZyHnHml0/s320/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+011.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eKkj61T6Em0RfH5CcEDwswDcoVe5PxKEotJ8kIolPbg9Wp4-h3I3sfVqRa7-icILQBlNuq4v5FY5TuHNMlAZspdtFD45z70UyZHdwAkq76NYd3K5rcpXNgxMwENTgdd7Trsfp8_nBgA/s1600/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eKkj61T6Em0RfH5CcEDwswDcoVe5PxKEotJ8kIolPbg9Wp4-h3I3sfVqRa7-icILQBlNuq4v5FY5TuHNMlAZspdtFD45z70UyZHdwAkq76NYd3K5rcpXNgxMwENTgdd7Trsfp8_nBgA/s320/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+024.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>With baths and ice cream and finally some lolli pops we all pack back into the vehicle with the hope that they'll be asleep in a short time. Smiles and hugs all around.<br />
And quiet....most of the way home. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI9fr7ufM9JuZ6QyFdGkdWE3OhIvwlgQBMmY7yJ_pCjNdRFyqeY_zlAgn4N-O5BpTj_G-k9XGZ5wLJKIVeptr7zA19RtAh3tlT9yVnTlMdGZzqZRrLNoDuLuw7QYELIs2U1MoKMkLqh_c/s1600/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI9fr7ufM9JuZ6QyFdGkdWE3OhIvwlgQBMmY7yJ_pCjNdRFyqeY_zlAgn4N-O5BpTj_G-k9XGZ5wLJKIVeptr7zA19RtAh3tlT9yVnTlMdGZzqZRrLNoDuLuw7QYELIs2U1MoKMkLqh_c/s320/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+019.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwBeARV7nyof40ZMAKqGUfFkJEGGCf5k1D-3MnOP6QfViEDbCSxvf7kGfjmqOmFa927JGu_S5EqExNfkwGC1PHqokp_ygfrVbVqRm_PUZsJZeUHLJl717NSxmy2iLG2F9kZLOSq8LFiM/s1600/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwBeARV7nyof40ZMAKqGUfFkJEGGCf5k1D-3MnOP6QfViEDbCSxvf7kGfjmqOmFa927JGu_S5EqExNfkwGC1PHqokp_ygfrVbVqRm_PUZsJZeUHLJl717NSxmy2iLG2F9kZLOSq8LFiM/s320/Sept.+3rd+at+Sylvias+014.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-36507919376541475972011-09-03T09:54:00.000-07:002011-09-03T09:54:49.787-07:00Knighthood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7LYJknjr6IXuy3JzIKb4iJ96FS8pWTRlrjWJNxyhhds1CziJDUjjGP75fJFox6xhGmwUII62K0vBKSJlqNdxu4Y7SpP4AC7MPzZO_mfuvjRgYz0nj0ihlD9bYxgMKEq5ZVT-xzCTwzw/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7LYJknjr6IXuy3JzIKb4iJ96FS8pWTRlrjWJNxyhhds1CziJDUjjGP75fJFox6xhGmwUII62K0vBKSJlqNdxu4Y7SpP4AC7MPzZO_mfuvjRgYz0nj0ihlD9bYxgMKEq5ZVT-xzCTwzw/s320/030.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>In our home we knight our boys young :)Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-31138332037257318012011-09-02T06:29:00.000-07:002011-09-02T06:29:38.778-07:00Boy of Adventure.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnsFtq6T7gO23yByq5FecgIZeQx_Pa3aGj37jU8OlTeBLwMsp3WGEikadoanTJMULKnJwPIvN6Cce5XTZv06Qntgc1aNvouYKR32c5KyM3WyXe9q7IK24XGuZufTSquQE72rJGGsctHJc/s1600/147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnsFtq6T7gO23yByq5FecgIZeQx_Pa3aGj37jU8OlTeBLwMsp3WGEikadoanTJMULKnJwPIvN6Cce5XTZv06Qntgc1aNvouYKR32c5KyM3WyXe9q7IK24XGuZufTSquQE72rJGGsctHJc/s320/147.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> He runs and plays on his own still. Ever adventurous and shy. He loves to explore the deep shadows of the forest or just the bushes at the local park.<br />
Running like a page in training to one day be a knight he looks at the world much like me, an adventure. A lost world full of evil to fight and, in his case, maidens to be rescued. This being the stage before girls become gross.<br />
When he sees other kids playing he sneaks along side, especially older kids. Fascinated by these middle sized people. Mimicing their actions and curious to be around them, he watches intently.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwy65z3XGOfIyS9PHuZ_ZjkP_emZB1RiRV2TH-ah1KiMXcR054TdgkA4t_CpDVQ2d22gkPmdI0KTzTvTxpj8vyf4nIY6L3Qc9j8ZmZr90wE8iCrHoC0A3_NsjbYSeVd5EHQwemZwievuk/s1600/148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwy65z3XGOfIyS9PHuZ_ZjkP_emZB1RiRV2TH-ah1KiMXcR054TdgkA4t_CpDVQ2d22gkPmdI0KTzTvTxpj8vyf4nIY6L3Qc9j8ZmZr90wE8iCrHoC0A3_NsjbYSeVd5EHQwemZwievuk/s320/148.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> I delight in his exploration of the world. He makes me smile with every new handful of dirt or picking of leaves. Each new find that I then have to say...no baby, that's yucky, and take the trash he's found away.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3upwlbUvOGTEUgaPs4kVu1LBklwMiblwAg7cjQ4KtAxg1gfRBu8EgBzXcJwKdib0H7eY24nn33ASkuA9fj9mr_H-iKiVYZpzsel9AStPHL7FRGrmfL9JlZOvTEbS8a1QertxHREYZ9zk/s1600/150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3upwlbUvOGTEUgaPs4kVu1LBklwMiblwAg7cjQ4KtAxg1gfRBu8EgBzXcJwKdib0H7eY24nn33ASkuA9fj9mr_H-iKiVYZpzsel9AStPHL7FRGrmfL9JlZOvTEbS8a1QertxHREYZ9zk/s320/150.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-XY1EPm03oL_rXdYZBxbdU8D3IJpaZjM06jG-gWjW4cyG9PWc-qWKUUv5Q5QWqlSPmNqS7uRoc8BZK8xQ5x7-PnN0cZrMUcN1k2RciHadn7Iv7IMFwAT8UZfOhVDZYDtfjUD09cdicc/s1600/152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-XY1EPm03oL_rXdYZBxbdU8D3IJpaZjM06jG-gWjW4cyG9PWc-qWKUUv5Q5QWqlSPmNqS7uRoc8BZK8xQ5x7-PnN0cZrMUcN1k2RciHadn7Iv7IMFwAT8UZfOhVDZYDtfjUD09cdicc/s320/152.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> His favourite part though..the swings. I can't seem to get him back to the slide. He just likes to swing, ... and swing....and swing. :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0k-7jJepk-9BT_-WVrjnxQfD9FFarm13U4FwXBAbEHTsSR1MT0EG8VC-fY8mS6-_Wnim1rW1vTCIi_YYRxQvRXVraITQaKJq282yfb1I5287VYnA5Jb0LNnLtDFznbqwIenMG9_iIEo/s1600/153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0k-7jJepk-9BT_-WVrjnxQfD9FFarm13U4FwXBAbEHTsSR1MT0EG8VC-fY8mS6-_Wnim1rW1vTCIi_YYRxQvRXVraITQaKJq282yfb1I5287VYnA5Jb0LNnLtDFznbqwIenMG9_iIEo/s320/153.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Another good day. Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5460095727626117372.post-40717373361909762402011-08-22T11:11:00.001-07:002011-08-22T11:11:06.359-07:00Brotherly love<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrca8JVp88tN2WCzHZ6Se023wjNnPM-pF8LzZ_B8MzYuZF5gYSF-IAwe9u_oKVMVZgxy0x906hl_fpsn9KmRyNWGA-MYKoOB2u4R6Gy_8tVbTGD6sLrcwnT_T2las90YJP1N2bVTpjKsq/'><br>He cries and he brings him a toy. Dropping it on him he feels sure he's done a good thing, while his little brother wails harder now because he has been overtaken by a heavy toy. <br />He laughs at his brother to cheer him up. He shoves a soother in his mouth sideways trying to get it just right. For all his good intentions his little brother at this time doesn't much appreciate it. <br />But once and a while they just hang out. On the couch or in a laundry basket. Big brother wraps his arms around little brother to keep him steady. <br />It warms a moms heart to see it. Mom of Adventurehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04376175963086876258noreply@blogger.com1