tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17146132096559337012024-03-12T23:41:21.667-07:00A Little LemonadeAll things adoption, parenting, marriage, DQ blizzards, maternity clothing as a fashion staple and other forms of humility and embarrassment. My way of avoiding dishes, laundry and adulting.
Life never goes according to plan. At least not mine! Learning to enjoy lemonade a little more every day!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-32147413068529984702019-11-15T01:37:00.001-08:002019-11-16T08:40:24.635-08:00AdoptionWelp, it's Adoption month....and my birth month, and my son's birth month and a million other people's month as well. Thanksgiving and Christmas preparation month. No sunshine or leaves on the trees month.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br><div>I'm in a funk. I'm stressed....and in a tough season. On top of that, I'm too old to be battling skin breakouts but here I am....busting out the Clearasil. </div><div><br></div><div>I was asked to write about adoption....and it was to be posted on a site that people actually read. I agreed with little thought to it.</div><div>And then I tried to organize my thoughts. </div><div>And lost that battle. Awesomely.</div><div>And now I am sitting here stressing instead of sleeping because people might actually read my insufficient mutterings. People will judge my lack of punctuation. My incomplete sentences and lack of....um....everything. I shouldn't have agreed. I certainly shouldn't have pressed the send button when I did. Why did I think I could pull this off? Will my words actually turn someone away from adopting? Gah....I need to lamaze breathe my way back down to earth.</div><div>Deep breath in.......and exhale. </div><div><br></div><div>And honestly isnt that adoption and parenthood in a nutshell?</div><div>Some of us (raising my hand) sort of happen into parenthood having NO idea what it really entails and just how epically you might suck at it. What if someone sees just how much you suck at it? I was such an amazing parent before I had my first child. And then reality soundly smacked me upside the head. </div><div>And because I am dense, when adoption came up I thought "Adoption?!?! Hell yes! Sign me right up!"</div><div><br></div><div>((While we're at it, let's get pregnant WHILE adopting....because.....well let's just do all the things at once. ))</div><div><br></div><div>And then reality walloped me again. The rush of hoping and praying and doing...of waiting and preparing is done and you have your precious child......and it's not all sunshine and rainbows. It's hard. It's confusing and relentless. It's messy and stinky. It's thankless. Mistakes are made. Life choices are questioned frequently. It feels like no one understands.</div><div><br></div><div>My parenting is ALOT like my writing: Incoherent. Scatty. Disorganized. Gobbledygook. In the midst of all that, I have some unexpected moments of sheer genius and I cling to those fleeting moments. </div><div><br></div><div>All adoption is born of loss. My adoption journey began after I miscarried my child. My son has suffered ever so much loss in his young life. </div><div>That loss cannot be separated from the conversation or journey. It is part of our daily walk. Living with loss, walking with that loss and accepting it for what it is has been a life altering experience. </div><div><br></div><div>Yes, there is loss but that's not all that adoption is. Adoption is a journey, a redemptive, transformative journey.</div><div><div><br></div><div>Adoption is choosing daily to walk alongside someone; knowing they may cling to you until you feel like you are going to break under their grip. Despite the fact that they might reject your very presence beside them on this journey, or they might vacillate in their reactions to your presence so quickly your head spins. </div><div>Adoption is working to accept beyond understanding. Beyond what's comfortable and continuing the journey knowing you will stumble and fall endlessly.</div><div>Adoption is choosing to get up each and every time. Not because you're good at it. Not because it is easy (though it will surprise you sometimes with moments of effortless amazingness.) NOT BECAUSE WE ARE ANGELS or SPECIAL. Not because we are gluttons for punishment. Not because we are "do-gooders."</div><div><br></div><div>Because children belong in families. Period. </div><div>Messy, noisy imperfectly wonderful families. </div><div>God has blessed our yes immensely. Through adoption, God has shown HIS redemptive love over and over again.</div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Today on our drive to school the subject of miracles came up when my oldest asked why miracles only happened in the Bible. I was eager to point out miracles that had been recorded as well as blessings I found miraculous in my own life. The amazing ways my fervent prayers had been answered. The boys then started pointing out some other events that they had noticed and we spent our morning acknowledging and recognizing the miraculous in our lives. </div><div><br></div><div>After I dropped them off I cried all the way home. I get so lost in my failures, the weight of responsibility, the isolation of parenthood and blasted self judgement that I forget that it is not all on my shoulders. That God loves these boys so much more than I can even imagine. That He will and has covered my imperfect efforts with His perfect love. He answers prayers.</div><div><br></div><div>God has used parenthood and adoption to save me from myself more times than I can count. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_p4sm2wbRR-A0g94ZXRTS86racSsivz9PJMd9c17kLIDN1FEVSxxvSinfgD9qYYiVdOGZU8MIr0MmEMx5VtFK7SS4dVCAMEU2CtUDO9CQHaEynSgW-u9VX_32Ep_ephY5gpjPI6c_WDc/s1600/1573812560236139-2.png" width="400"></a>Adoption IS doable, necessary and amazing. If God can use our family...certainly He can use yours. Say yes and watch the miraculous happen in your own hearts and homes. </div><br><br></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-90753157544299229752019-02-22T09:59:00.001-08:002019-02-22T10:36:53.947-08:00Standing by....Bystander: a person who is present at an event or incident but does not take part.<br />
<br />
Bystander has a bit of a negative connotation in my mind; for I am a person of action. A do-er. A fixer. A solver. An empath. When people I love hurt, I hurt. If I can "fix" a situation or "solve" a problem then by golly, I will. Every moment can be a teachable moment....<br />
<br />
"if you got a problem, yo, I'll solve it..."<br />
<br />
I am sorry.<br />
<br />
How pompous of me. I must be a real treat to live with.<br />
<br />
As chaos of my days has reached fever pitch, I have been an unwitting bystander to the madness in my house. I am unsure if the noise and chaos comes with the territory of having 4 boys in my house, or if it is the reality of a former type-b personality attempting and failing to organize and keep on top of things. *shrug*<br />
<br />
Life is piling up all around me. The issues others are facing are so much easier to solve than the crap in my own life. (HA) I am barely treading water in my own life.<br />
<br />
I try to escape, desperate for a moment in which I am not required to solve anything, mediate, fix and soothe. I often chastise myself, believing the last thing my boys need is a bystander.<br />
<br />
Until yesterday.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, a particularly icy morning 2 of my boys and I happened upon a car in the ditch. A young high schooler was in the car. As I watched numerous cars slow down and pass her, I decided to stop. The groans from my precious son made me chuckle. Yup, here I was inserting myself into another situation in hopes of "fixing it." GI Becki to the rescue.<br />
<br />
Poor girl was shaking but reported being unhurt and she was waiting for her dad. After speaking with her I asked if she was alright with me backing up my super cool minivan, and waiting with her for her father to arrive.<br />
<br />
I had 2 kiddos in my car that morning and we sat and waited. That is all I did...well aside from debating mentally if I should invite her into our sweet ride, offer her food, or something else. Her father showed up and was able to get the car out no trouble and the girl went on her way home. He came over and profusely thanked me and I was a bit embarrassed and obviously I handled it in my usual awkward manner. I had simply sat there, unable to really help. I was just a bystander.<br />
<br />
The previous night, my precious Pierogie had a rough night. He has been really struggling as of late and honestly it has gotten old. I find such impatience in my heart for the outbursts and constant struggle. In this moment he was really not regulating or processing and I was at my wits end. I have spent months/years trying to help him. To solve his struggles. To fix it for him and everyone else. In that moment I gave up. I couldn't fix it for him. I couldn't solve this problem. It is too big. I cannot explain away such a deep wound. I couldn't regulate his behavior for him. Why wouldn't he listen to me? Why cant he just do what I suggest? I can help! I can, but it wasn't working.<br />
<br />
I sat on the floor defeated. Absolutely helpless.<br />
I offered to let him sit on my lap.<br />
He did. And as I held him he raged. And he sobbed. And he screamed. It was ugly. The words coming out of his mouth shattered my heart and there was absolutely nothing I could do but sit there with him. Grieving.<br />
I rocked him and did my best to soothe.<br />
Acknowledging that no words can even begin to soothe the pain that he rightfully feels.<br />
After a very long time, he dried his eyes and looked at me. Really looked at me. (Honestly, this is miraculous in itself.)<br />
We were able to talk a little after that. I kept my words to a minimum. The second miracle.<br />
<br />
As luck had it, he was in the car with me the next morning as we sat together and waited again.<br />
<br />
And it struck me...<br />
<br />
For all of my good intentions and exemplary problem solving skills in other people's lives (<i>yes this is sarcasm</i>)....perhaps the greatest act of love I can offer is simply standing by....or sitting in my case.<br />
Not trying to fix anything but letting someone know they are loved even in their pain may be more powerful than having the right words or resources. Simply shut up and show up. (<i>Many of my amazing friends already know this and do this. I aspire to be more like you!</i>) My heart breaks for all the ways my "helping and fixing" may have hurt my dear child.<br />
<br />
Most everyone knows I rarely have the right words.<br />
The correct punctuation or grammar.<br />
The appropriate facial expressions.<br />
The correct reactions.<br />
It is all part of my charm. It really is.<br />
What I can do is nothing compared to what God can do. (Duh)<br />
<br />
I am learning. And trying.<br />
I see you.<br />
I hear you.<br />
<br />
I am here standing by. Awkwardly, but here.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-56570604351009179152018-02-23T22:00:00.000-08:002018-02-23T22:00:39.874-08:00The AbyssWell folks, welcome to the pit. We have succumb to the slippery slope and here we are....in this abyss.....this pit, where lawlessness is the norm and we scramble to make sense of the chaos around us.<br />
<br />
I don't know about you, but I am not comfortable here. I don't want to be comfortable here. Something has to change.<br />
<br />
Parkland.<br />
Sandy Hook.<br />
Umpqua Community College.<br />
Columbine.<br />
Thurston.<br />
<br />
The list is TOO long for me to continue.<br />
Let us not be comfortable here.<br />
<br />
Though I heartily believe in the power of prayer, I also believe in doing the work.. in standing up for what is right.<br />
<br />
Today, two of my sweet kiddos were herded into their school closets. Doors were quickly locked. They were instructed not to speak, for speaking would let the "bad guys" know where they were. In one of my boy's classroom, not only were he and the other students in the closet, silent....the blinds were drawn and the lights turned off. Silently, they waited in the dark.<br />
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My oldest is 8.<br />
<br />
Eight years old and the reality that school may not be a safe place has already become something that he gets to process. It is his reality. It is not something I can wrap my head around. I cannot put myself in his shoes and as a parent it is a reality I do not wish to accept. I refuse to be comfortable with this.<br />
<br />
Here in our tiny, bucolic hamlet, the "real world" has clawed its way in. Here in our tiny community, a threat was made and responded to. No longer can threats be ignored. No longer is it unthinkable that such a terrible tragedy occur....in a place we trust our children to be safe.<br />
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Now, before everyone's panties get totally twisted, yes...I COMPLETELY agree that we are blessed and lucky in this scenario. No shots were fired. No harm was even physically attempted at our boy's school and the threat was just that in this instance. That is a blessing.<br />
<br />
And yet, it seems absurd to me. My sweet, innocent, anxious children were hiding from "bad guys" at school today.<br />
<br />
I'm pissed.<br />
<br />
For me, it is not a gun issue. <br />
It is a culture issue. <br />
It's a discipline issue.<br />
It's a character issue. <br />
It is a issue of morality.<br />
It's a respect issue. <br />
It is very basically an issue of right or wrong.<br />
<br />
In my very humble opinion, I blame the "if it feels good, do it" mantra that I have had shoved down my throat for the past 20 years or longer. The world is your oyster. YOLO. There is no end to the self indulgence of this age. Everyone is out for themselves. Social Media only serves to further the notion. Say what you want when you want. There are no consequences. We have freedom and that includes freedom of speech. Yes, but just because you can say or do whatever you want, does not mean that you should. <br />
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We seem to be a culture proud of our "gray' area. Nothing is black and white any more. Everything is grey. Society has constantly challenged the ideas of right and wrong and left us with carte blanche.<br />
<br />
<br />
No one is ever to deny themselves anything. Self discipline is an antiquated notion. <br />
Responsibility? Culpability? Delayed Gratification?<br />
And God?<br />
<br />
We have kicked God out of our schools. We have made morality a nebulous concept that our concrete thinking children are left to figure out for themselves. We live in a society that places self and self gratification above all else. Our children see how we are living. They are drawing their conclusions.<br />
<br />
And look where that has gotten us.<br />
<br />
I am pissed. I am done. There is a right and there is a wrong. In this, there is no GREY area.<br />
<br />
It is WRONG that our schools are not safe.<br />
It is WRONG that we are accepting this as our new reality.<br />
It is WRONG that these horrifically tragic acts receive SO much media attention. <br />
It is wrong that children today are not being taught self discipline and delayed gratification. <br />
It is a massive mistake that children are not being taught coping mechanisms to deal with the cruel nature of this world. Bullying is not a new concept, our children's inability to survive bullying is new.<br />
<br />
It is wrong that today had me breathing a big sigh of relief that my kids were safe...this time. <br />
<br />
Honestly, when will morality return and rule the day? When will we all be held to a moral standard with respect for life? Will the Golden Rule once again be our modus operandi? When will this insanity end?<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-83732503896340883022018-01-09T19:57:00.000-08:002018-01-09T19:57:02.057-08:00Mourning this Good FridayWell, this post is a day early, but I was just moved by the discovery that this GOOD FRIDAY is 3 months to the day that we lost Beckett. I have always struggled through Good Friday to begin with. I always feel like I am mourning a friend on that day and now I will be mourning my friend and my son. Kind of. Praying tonight I couldn't help but thank GOD for giving Beckett a much grander home than I ever could have. So thankful for his eternal joy. Even though I know I am pretty darn awesome at being a Mom, he is undoubtedly happier than he ever would have been if he had to suffer through my cooking. .. . <br />
I went to Beckett's grave yesterday. His head stone FINALLY arrived. Yup, for whatever reason it took THAT long to be placed. I am relieved. I hated going there and seeing the misplaced grass starting to settle over him with nothing to show who was resting there. It just felt undone. Forgotten.<br />
So, we took a family trip there to see his marker. ...<br />
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<em>Eli loves road trips!! Can't you tell?</em></div>
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and it was UPSIDE down. <br />
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How appropriate is that? Everything about Beckett turned my life upside down, so really, it is fitting that his headstone is as well. Oh Beckett, thank you for opening my eyes and my heart in a million different ways. Thank you for things my tears will not allow me to express right now. Only God can turn death into life. Sorrow into joy. This Easter is SO NEEDED. My heart is ready for a resurrection. I want to turn the loss of you into something more beautiful than I am able to. Your presence was overwhelmingly perfect and joyous.. . and I want that to somehow manifest itself again.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEf2eIZPkjtyl0RkSpXJuwd9Y8lq4STxV4RRlBbbXXLLGlRWMa9-nwBBCLEZJZ55eHCSNWCCHJ5KSUeIMDgBwMMw4DiCNzU_3jFkBKAB6zbRNlmN9pjWMg_b0Fl5E-IBKhCU9E-H5-Zgiq/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEf2eIZPkjtyl0RkSpXJuwd9Y8lq4STxV4RRlBbbXXLLGlRWMa9-nwBBCLEZJZ55eHCSNWCCHJ5KSUeIMDgBwMMw4DiCNzU_3jFkBKAB6zbRNlmN9pjWMg_b0Fl5E-IBKhCU9E-H5-Zgiq/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Someday it will face the right way and look like this. . .</span></em></div>
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So I have obviously spent a bit of time thinking about Beckett. About those awful days. And loss. And family. And the meaning of life. .. . you know, light-hearted topics. I have so many memories of those two days; but they are like snapshots in my head. I remember how it felt to hold him in my hand. How incredibly tiny he was. I remember feeling such heart-rending grief but also felt a peaceful amazement at his perfection. I remember staring into that hole in the ground thinking that it was so big and so symbolic of how I was feeling. Just a gaping huge hole. In my heart. In my family. In my dreams. HUGE. It was such a big hole for such a little body. I remember feeling physical pain as they placed him into that hole. Nothing in life can really ever prepare you for that moment. There are no words.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGcQCYWZN52rfN9T4AL0y8Ngx0Fxzeh4hJ7lCfiO7EiejZVlQW9sM02oZmJOpZA1ilSbWxkTE9n2eWPUK_N07Qy5aNi3tGhEeks-sdyVpEw4DqZ4IQEXc2ODVeqYFbwy89URv2r5Cxqfcy/s1600/beckett+and+eli.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGcQCYWZN52rfN9T4AL0y8Ngx0Fxzeh4hJ7lCfiO7EiejZVlQW9sM02oZmJOpZA1ilSbWxkTE9n2eWPUK_N07Qy5aNi3tGhEeks-sdyVpEw4DqZ4IQEXc2ODVeqYFbwy89URv2r5Cxqfcy/s320/beckett+and+eli.JPG" width="320" /></a>I cannot say that I am over the loss of Beckett. I am not sure a parent ever "gets over" something like that. I am blessed that God has filled some of that gaping hole with love for the extraordinary children on Reece's Rainbow. So much love and so much purpose. Only God could cover that pain with love. Only God. Only God will take my meager efforts and use them for good. I often feel that my little attempts to help are so small and the need is so great. . .but God can work wonders with so little!<br />
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I see the children being claimed on <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/category/rescued" target="_blank">Reece's Rainbow</a> and it brings me such joy and such hope. I have unlimited admiration for the families stepping forward for these children. It is a beautiful thing! God is using their love to turn death into life. Despair into hope. Rejection into acceptance. In a word- Resurrection. So miraculous! <br />
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What better thought to leave you with heading into this Easter Weekend. <br />
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Happy Easter! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-19793142446836416532016-01-08T10:49:00.001-08:002016-01-08T10:49:43.351-08:00Selfie Take 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNyxBO526DYMlQVp26NvtnvjJIHNdyYEtBXVjMluXyDc9EDYH6WqHOrTobyUCEL6G-yO-Suy-uK5cQretoX2jtgUN1mTQBKlNi77zifEbDg0BuCaN2mS1iMe3GO-5w5cZinvhtOPfqhwqz/s1600/12508744_10153298461552727_8008427958369428112_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNyxBO526DYMlQVp26NvtnvjJIHNdyYEtBXVjMluXyDc9EDYH6WqHOrTobyUCEL6G-yO-Suy-uK5cQretoX2jtgUN1mTQBKlNi77zifEbDg0BuCaN2mS1iMe3GO-5w5cZinvhtOPfqhwqz/s320/12508744_10153298461552727_8008427958369428112_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Y'all probably thought I was joking. Sadly....I am deathly serious. THIS IS my resolution! In all of my free time, I will be perfecting my selfie. Apparently, free time = oral hygiene time. This one is pretty good....for my toothbrush. It manages to look curvy and thin all that the same time. </div>
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It looks like I only have one boob. </div>
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I'm a little jealous of my toothbrush. Form and function. </div>
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Hangs head. </div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-10699531948446615712016-01-07T22:12:00.000-08:002016-01-10T19:57:49.937-08:00SQT- Paying it Forward<a href="http://thisaintthelyceum.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/seven-quick-takes-friday-2.jpg"><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-1387" src="http://thisaintthelyceum.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/seven-quick-takes-friday-2.jpg" height="213" title="7_quick_takes_sm" width="300" /></a>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt1"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt1" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 1 ---</a></strong></div>
I am super spoiled. I got a laptop for Christmas. I blame Santa...really...what's he gonna do? I was truly THAT good last year and I think he would have done just about ANYTHING to get me to stop singing Santa baby. I wrote my first blog in 1.2 million years last night. It felt so good that I kindly asked my husband if I could once again spend my evening with my face glued to my new Christmas present, you know...so I could gift the world with a blog post of grammatical errors, pitiful slang, sporadic and inappropriate curse words and copious amounts of photos to fill in the blank spaces. It's my way of paying it forward, yo. I was really looking forward to completing this act of charity tonight. <br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt2"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt2" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 2 ---</a></strong></div>
Before I could blog, I had to get my angelic boys to bed. Oh bedtime, how you vex me. Why did I think having all 3 boys in the same room was a good idea? Why did God think I could survive the gift of 3 uber talkative boys? I fear HE might have misjudged me. After 30 minutes, my temper was rearing her ugly head. I decided to bust out my new prayer journal and sit my butt down outside their bedroom door. Surely transcribing prayer would settle the temper down. Surely? Sadly not tonight....the rage is strong with me. . . .I took a second to thank God for Dragon Time which kept me from losing all control and becoming a fire-breathing she beast. Still, after an hour and a half of whack-a-mole my will to live is gone...let alone my will to blog. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5iQfTxmblx8oFUNbyYwhJZLXBUMrSD5XoUMofke1DJmhwysWURs816a4oaHQFY2X8PRxEtwfZ_ujmA9qDde5JmWhWIsJJg3GHAVghrTSYUAcuZZZibyQfI_OmQTer5fdkBw2iolleRS4R/s1600/young-living-dragon-time-essential-oil-blend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5iQfTxmblx8oFUNbyYwhJZLXBUMrSD5XoUMofke1DJmhwysWURs816a4oaHQFY2X8PRxEtwfZ_ujmA9qDde5JmWhWIsJJg3GHAVghrTSYUAcuZZZibyQfI_OmQTer5fdkBw2iolleRS4R/s200/young-living-dragon-time-essential-oil-blend.jpg" width="83" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This beauty keeps me out of jail...it's literally the shizzzzz. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt3"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt3" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 3 ---</a></strong></div>
I am seriously excited about my Saint for 2016. Seriously! I have had a lifelong interest in the lives of the Saints and the past 2 years I have been thrilled to learn about the saints I got...but this year was so perfect. I mean....PERFECT. The Patron of Impossible Cases! Ask my husband....If I am anything at all, I am an impossible case! To make it even more delicious, it is a Saint I did not know about. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">ST RITA: Patron of impossible cases, difficult marriages, and parenthood</span></div>
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The learning got PERSONAL! A light bulb was illuminated in my pea brain and I bought myself a nice leather journal to organize my battle. I am waging a spiritual war this year of Mercy. Instead of flailing about wildly and wielding snark like a weapon as is my normal M.O., I am turning over a new leaf, inspired by this amazing prayer. Seriously, the tone is right up my alley and I enjoyed praying it every night. I think I may have been fighting my trial and tribulations with the wrong tools. I've got my Battle Book ready. Let's DO THIS! <br />
<b><i>Oration to the Saint of the Impossible</i></b><br />
<i>O excellent St. Rita, worker of miracles, from thy sanctuary in Cascia, where in all thy beauty thou sleepest in peace, where thy relics exhale breaths of paradise, turn thy merciful eyes on me who suffer and weep!</i><br />
<i>Thou seest my poor bleeding heart surrounded by thorns Thou seest, O dear Saint, that my eyes have no more tears to shed, so much have I wept! Weary and discouraged as I am, I feel the very prayers dying on my lips.</i><br />
<i>Must I thus despair in this crisis of my life? O come, St. Rita, come to my aid and help me. Art thou not called the Saint of the Impossible, Advocate to those in despair? Then honor thy name, procuring for me from God the favor that I ask.</i><br />
<i>[Here ask the favor you wish to obtain.]</i><br />
<i>Everyone praises thy glories, everyone tells of the most amazing miracles performed through thee, must I alone be disappointed because thou hast not heard me? Ah no! Pray then pray for me to thy sweet Lord Jesus that He be moved to pity by my troubles and that, through thee, O good St. Rita, I may obtain what my heart so fervently desires.</i><br />
<i>(Pray the Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father, three times.)</i><br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt4"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt4" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 4 ---</a></strong></div>
If your interest has been piqued, you too could generate a Saint for 2016. Make a new friend. Learn a new prayer. Start your own battle! The power of prayer can change your world. Seriously, I have seen improvement already! I am tempted to start praying that my hubby to discover a love of dancing with his beloved wife. It could happen!! Stay tuned! Check it out! <a href="http://saintsnamegenerator.com/">http://saintsnamegenerator.com/</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt5"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt5" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 5 ---</a></strong></div>
Oh wait! I know it's belated...but Happy New Year! We had a rip-roaring crazy night! I hope it was memorable for all of you as well! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No lies. This was taken at 7:09 pm.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt6"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt6" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 6 ---</a></strong></div>
I don't normally set New Year Resolutions....and if I do set them, I rarely remember that I did. But ya know....this year, I might prove myself wrong. I turned 40 last year, clearly my memory and willpower is only getting better, right? I got in better shape, I am feeling pretty good these days. I have no way of proving that on the interwebs so in 2016 I have committed myself to mastering the selfie. Trout pout and all. <br />
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SELFIE! </div>
Note to self.....it's early days and this criticism is constructive, do not give up, but seriously Bex....Lose the hat. You look like a cone head. And profile? Maybe not your strong suit, unless you were TRYING to look like this guy:<br />
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Photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/gadgetdude/1237653500/">gadgetdude</a> via <a href="http://visualhunt.com/">Visual Hunt</a> / <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">CC BY</a>
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I have a year, it may take the entire year but...I think I can...I think I can! <br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt7"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt7" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 7 ---</a></strong></div>
Meet <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/59779/marv">Marv</a>! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilglZeJ-DwtC4C1vYW_KH-3zM2ZCtmkGsIzH8IEaNNF38x0y9qdiTjOaM5W47VS-o17mNJl1yTnSRKn4V-R1_vd4JX-p1MxtEfSzNDV456bHc9ip3O3aEIQghQ8n6j5VKZvsckBpuuxvsI/s1600/12219466_10153196400262727_2768305099839589983_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilglZeJ-DwtC4C1vYW_KH-3zM2ZCtmkGsIzH8IEaNNF38x0y9qdiTjOaM5W47VS-o17mNJl1yTnSRKn4V-R1_vd4JX-p1MxtEfSzNDV456bHc9ip3O3aEIQghQ8n6j5VKZvsckBpuuxvsI/s320/12219466_10153196400262727_2768305099839589983_n.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
I love this boy despite the fact that I have never met him. I just know deep in my heart that he would be a wonderful addition to a family! Your family? Do you know the family for him? Please share! He has 22 months before he ages out and can no longer be adopted. Let's find him a family! You can get more information <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/59779/marv">HERE</a>.<br />
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Man, I am glad I did this! Paying it forward feels GOOOOD! <br />
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For more Quick Takes, visit <a href="http://thisaintthelyceum.org/">This Ain't the Lyceum!</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-9725469069648937322016-01-07T13:48:00.000-08:002016-01-07T20:29:12.755-08:00Epiphany“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9<br />
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Every year on this day. Pow. A punch to the gut.<br />
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Every year I blog about this day. It all started<a href="http://4alittlelemonade.blogspot.com/2012/03/this-journey.html"> HERE</a>. <br />
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Yes, you ARE welcome. One of these years I will get it right. I will sit back with a satisfied grin and high five myself repeatedly. I want to get all the beauty in this struggle. Every year, I am left wanting more from my retelling. So yall, just bear with me...because some day, this blog is going to totally knock your socks off!<br />
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Every year, I know this day is coming. I don't fear it. do not mourn everyday; I do not cling to loss or sadness. There is nothing to mourn. I do not believe that love dies and I have not lost Beckett. He is well. He is happy. He is still my darling baby boy and I am proud to be his mama It is just another day until it arrives. And then it's the <b><span style="font-size: large;">6TH</span></b> and it feels like I am giving Shaq a piggy back while carrying Roseanne in my Ergo. All. Day. Long. I am not angry. I am not sad per se but man, I could weep. I could rage. Today I am confused by the intensity of this I am okay and not okay at the same time....and I am thinking it could be PMS. The gift that makes a sane woman look one fry short of a Happy Meal. Shaq and Roseanne successfully slow me down enough that I can mull things over. <br />
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On this day I get to revisit the beauty and brutality of seeing my precious Beckett in the flesh, of counting his precious toes and reveling in the tiny miracle in my hand. I have another chance to try and grasp the miraculous in the devastating loss. Today is my Beckett day. <br />
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So, today, I placed flowers at Beckett's grave. Happy Beckett day baby boy! I can still smell the Baby's Breath. What a lovely innocent scent. <br />
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This miscarriage malarky is a bitch. It confounds the dictionary in my brain. I want to wish him a Happy Birthday, but it technically isn't a birth day. It's a loss day, but that doesn't fit either because on this day I got to see and hold my sweet boy for a brief moment. So, what does one call it? I have heard "brutiful" thrown around and it fits but only kinda. Happy Brutiful Day? Maybe it will grow on me. Maybe not.<br />
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As I said above, I do not believe love dies. I still have mad love for baby Beckett, 4 years after saying hello and goodbye. It is a beautiful thing. If you stay open to that love, it can and will transform your life completely. Out of sadness, confusion and pain, a new life and deeper understanding was born. For that I will be forever grateful<br />
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<b>Beckett</b>, baby boy. I hold you in my heart. You bring me joy and I love believing that you and Gramma are hanging out right now...giggling over the mismatched pajama/tortilla chip/couch potato situation I am currently in. You changed my life in such a aching, beautiful way. KISSES!<br />
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<b>To Grams</b>: I love you so much. Hug that sweet baby boy for me...and if there is anyway to send me a picture or a video of him laughing that would be rad. Thanks! <br />
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<b>To all the doctors </b>that advised abortion over and over: I still fight the urge to poke your eyes out...but I forgive you. Down Syndrome is not to be feared. People are not to be discarded. No one is perfect and to quote the beloved Dr Seuss:<br />
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<b>To all the loved ones</b> that comforted me with the idea that we dodged a bullet....I love you so much and I know you were trying to love me through a tough situation. Beckett was never a bullet to be dodged. Beckett was/is a perfect blessing just the way God made him. <br />
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<b>To all the LADIES! To every woman</b> given the devastating news during pregnancy that something might be different about their baby. To the woman struggling after a difficult diagnosis. I totally understand. I was scared, I was blindsided, I felt unprepared, inept and completely alone. Take a deep breath and please read the following post from an amazing adoptive mama, it spoke to my heart. IF you are worried about how a child with special needs will change your life and/or the lives of your family read this, reach out; you are not alone. <br />
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"If you're thinking about adopting a kid whose earning potential is $0, who has zero chance of becoming a Nobel Prize winner, or a CEO, whose greatest accomplishment in life might be learning to play peekaboo or holding onto his stuffed bear, and you're wondering how it will affect your other, more typical kids, then please listen to what I'm about to say, and know I mean it with all of my heart: Love will grow in your house in ways you couldn't even contemplate. Your perspective of success and the value of human worth will evolve so fast that you won't believe it's possible. You'll see your kids grow in compassion, in thoughtfulness, in tenderness, in love, in patience in understanding, in wisdom, in tolerance, and in hope, in ways that nothing else can cause. And one day, you'll realize that the kid who doesn't speak, who doesn't walk, who doesn't "do" anything, has done more for your family in helping them see Jesus than any church service, book, song, or anything else ever could, and that same kid is just as much an essential and productive and involved member of your family as everyone else and you won't be able to understand why other people don't see him the way you all do, why they don't hear his different noises and automatically translate that into English, or see his facial expressions and know exactly what he's trying to convey, and you'll feel sorry for everyone else that's living the "American dream" life with 2.5 typical kids because they are missing out on the greatest joy in life."</blockquote>
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<b>To all the Mamas</b> that have lost babies. I feel you. Never feel like you can't talk about it. You are NOT ALONE! Your baby lives and loves on. Find the people that can bear this with you! If you dont have that yet....email me! I am here!<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>To all the sister-friends</b>: Bear with your sisters. Listen until you cant listen anymore....and then listen some more. Open your heart and share life with your lady friends. Embrace this journey with your fellow sisters. Walk beside them and let them walk beside you. <br />
<br />
<b>To all the awesome Adoptive Mamas</b> out there: Easy is boring! :) Messy is beautiful! You have shown me courage, compassion, you rock my world and when /if I grow up I want to be so much more like you! Keep on keeping on and thank you for sharing this journey with me and my little family! <br />
<br />
To all those considering adoption.....DO IT! SERIOUSLY....and....have you seen this <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/59779/marv">amazing boy</a>? <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Marv (1)" class="size-medium wp-image-59815 alignright" src="http://reecesrainbow.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Marv-1-250x300.jpg" height="300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="250" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet Marvelous Marv. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy Beckett Day everyone!</span> </div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-56282094463968821292015-11-08T20:48:00.001-08:002016-01-10T20:00:17.583-08:00On my kneesHalloween is one of my most favorite days of the year. I had planned to dress up as Ace Ventura, ala tutu...<br />
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but then my beloved Grams had a stroke and passed away on Halloween day. Yes...massive bummer.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grams is 91 in this picture. Isn't she stunning?!?!?</td></tr>
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I had made the 10 hour trek to see her before she went and I was just going through the motions with my kids on Halloween. I could not muster enough oomph for Ace, as required and so I ended up as this. I kinda, sorta went as myself.<br />
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<br />
Well, it has been 8 days since my dear Grams has left us and I am nursing swollen eyes and a hive covered neck. THAT is what I get for letting my true colors show. All of that green has done a number on me. No bueno.<br />
<br />
I have a monumental birthday coming up this week. It's a biggie. I have been dieting and planning for months. I want to look GOOOOOOD for this birthday. I feel pressured to really rock this one. I have not celebrated a birthday of my own since having chitlins and I am making up for it with this shindig. Makeup, nice dress, friends, drinks, dancing. THIS is going to be EPIC.<br />
<br />
My hubs gave me the afternoon to go to my favorite store to buy a dress for the big night out. Score! And without kids? Oh yea...I was psyched!<br />
<br />
I went! I saw! I tried on a dress without my boys trying to wrestle in the dressing room....I fit into a size 6. Ladies. For real; let us stop and let that sink in because honestly that is a miracle. My booty has it's own area code. Yes, I had dieted, not so well recently, yes I had been working on this for ages....but nature is nature. Even today the booty is unreal. And here it was in a 6. It fit like a glove especially over the booty so I decided I really needed an 8. With none in stock, I left empty handed. The goal is to look amazingly hot after all, not for sale. I attempted to make up for the no dress situation with shoes.<br />
I found no joy at the shoe store either but I was still high on the fact that I fit into a size 6; so pssht. Who cares.<br />
<br />
Life was good, the drive without my rabid children was quiet and fun so I decided to make an unscheduled stop on the way home thinking that the perfect dress could still be found. This is where the day went pear shaped. Yes, just like me. Pear. Shaped.<br />
<br />
After perusing 10 or more shops in the pouring rain, I ended up in a shop. There was a dress. Lovely. Black. Unique. A tad on the stiff side. <i>Why was it so stiff?</i> Starched. <i>Who wants a stiff dress?</i> Could I move in it? I do intend to get down with my bad self....so...um....to try it on or not.<br />
<br />
I caved. I had to try it on. I grabbed a size 8, not pressing the miraculous 6 luck.....and headed for the dressing room. One quick tug and the dress was on. Now, the sleeves were snug, not the snug where you must quickly turn the sleeves right way round or risk losing an arm, just a tad snug. Like a constant, intense hug on my upper arms. No biggie. It was cute. It fit like a glove, a starched, stiff glove but it was cute. I turned. I oogled. I turned again. I did a little dance. No. Sadly it was just too stiff for the night of merriment I had planned. The dress was not coming home with me.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Okay. Wait. Here is the deal. I have a rash on my neck that kept me up all night itching. It's a nice angry welty neck. I may or may not look contagious. When getting ready for church I did not stop and think that my husband would suggest a shopping trip right after church so undergarments and shaving were not at all a consideration this morning. With that in mind I went to my go-to. My all time favorite. My comfortable, 2.5 year old nursing bra. Mmhm...like a sports bra but inifinitely less cool. If I am being brutally honest its more like a really, really tiny, flesh colored tank top than a bra. I had zero makeup on in hopes that hivey-mac-hiverton would be gone by my birthday. Are you getting the picture yet? I am clearly saving all of my hotness for my birthday night.</span><br />
<br />
So...the dress had to come off. I unzipped the tiny zipper under my armpit and proceeded to try to take the dress off over my head. It had gone on that way, surely it would come off.<br />
<br />
It. Would. NOT. Budge.<br />
<br />
WHAT THE BLEEP? I did not wrestle myself into the dress. Yes, the arms were snug. As I tried and tried and contorted, I could not lift the dress over my shoulder blades. I stopped. I started. I stopped. This went on for longer than I care to admit.<br />
<br />
I eventually realized I was stuck. Well and truly stuck in the stiffest dress in the history of the world.<br />
<br />
With a face as red as my hive-covered neck, I went in search of the dressing room attendant to help me. OH WAIT...the dressing room was literally in the middle of the shop. I had to walk about 10 feet to the register to ask for assistance in the dressing room. I was so calm...I am still proud of that phrase. "Assistance in the dressing room." Sounds simple enough.<br />
<br />
The employee follows me to the dressing room where I whirl around to face her and whisper "I am stuck in this dress."<br />
<br />
Of course she did not hear me so I got to repeat myself.<br />
<br />
Her eyes widened and she pushed both of us all the way into the dressing room but did not close the door all the way. At that point, I realize that she might be 5'2" with heels on. My heart sank as I also sank to my knees. With my arms raised in supplication I began mumbling non-stop about how strange that I was able to easily put the dress on.....and apologies about the situation and my bra; clearly intent on making the situation as embarrassing as possible.<br />
<br />
Little employee tugged and yanked and grunted (NOT KIDDING) until that dress came off, leaving angry red marks on my arms. Now they match my neck too. Awesome.<br />
<br />
I thanked her profusely for her help and I got dressed quickly, unable to look at myself in the mirror as I readied myself for the worst walk of shame ever.<br />
<br />
I took a deep breath and exited the safety of the dressing room. The employee that helped me was at the register again with another employee. They were smiling and watching me.<br />
<br />
I thanked her again.<br />
<br />
They were still smiling and watching me. Of course they were!<br />
<br />
I couldn't just leave. They were watching me still. I had to say something.<br />
<br />
"So, I don't think I am going to buy that dress. Thank you, though. It's uh...sure...cute!"<br />
<br />
I managed to walk to the door. It may have resembled race-walking but I did not run.<br />
<br />
I may be wearing jeans, a t-shirt and my nursing bra on my birthday night. Perhaps that is as it should be, it is much more ME. As much as I would love to wow people with my super hotness despite my old age....I refuse to find myself on my knees again in pursuit of that.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love you Gramma! I hope you did NOT see my awesomeness today!</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-12137744442643052972015-03-22T12:03:00.001-07:002015-03-22T12:06:41.536-07:00Grace and Waterproof MascaraDear Diary,<br />
<br />
Mama is about to unload. I am hoping it makes sense.<br />
<br />
Oh, the changes and blessing that God has brought with our move, it boggles my mind the ways that my life has changed and improved. I have been given some amazing friends that are on a similar path to mine. Being present with them on their journey has been eye opening, it has made me more mindful of my own journey. This is a blessing and a curse. Self awareness can be humiliating and painful. I prefer to face the embarrassment then to bury my head...so I get what I get.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">******I feel rushed to get this all out as I should be frosting cupcakes and preparing my house for the party that should be happening here in a few short hours. So, again, bear with me as I attempt to spat this all out and make poetry out of my gibberish. *****</span><br />
<br />
These friends of mine are so incredible that it makes me wonder WHY they are <i>my</i> friends. Without thinking, I fear I have been eager to show them all the ways that I suck and the multitude of reasons why they would be crazy to be my friends at all (((mixed in with my inherent awesomeness, of course.))) And yet, they stay. ((perhaps because despite all of my crappiness, I love them immensely and I can be quite entertaining at times.))<br />
<br />
I am humbled and grateful and nervous about that. Clearly I have some attachment issues. Yes.<br />
<br />
Captain Obvious, struck like a lightening bolt of clarity today showing me that people near and dear to me are exhibiting similar behaviors. Aha moment. I sadly do not always react well to behaviors I am guilty of myself. Sigh.<br />
<br />
This morning I went to church with this Aha moment marinating in my head and a list of people to offer my Mass up for.<br />
<br />
As anyone with children knows, Mass with kids is a circus. I had the good sense to sit front and center this morning so the whole congregation could enjoy our three ring circus today. And a circus it was. well circus with a healthy dose of WWF style toddler wrestling.<br />
<br />
Anywho...the snippets of Mass that I caught were few and far between and honestly fell on my deaf ears.<br />
<br />
And then someone from the choir began to sing this:<br />
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And I wept.<br />
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Openly.<br />
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Mhhm...because all our WWF Circus needed today was a weeping Becki. I thank God for waterproof mascara.<br />
<br />
I bring my ugly and unworthy self to God every day. And HE still love <i>me</i>. ME. ME? He who sees ALL of my fails. All of my wounds. All of my weakness. All of my ugly. Despite all the ways I distract myself from talking to HIM. Despite the fact that sometimes all I have to offer is crap.<br />
<br />
How can we even begin to comprehend that? As my boys came back from Sunday School to find their Mama weeping, aha moment number 2 whacked me upside the head. As I hugged the boys that strive to drive me stark raving mad every single day, as I hug the boys that trust me despite all of my parenting fails, as I let myself feel all the motherly love that I have for them, I started to grasp just a teeny bit just how LUCKY I am. To be seen. To be on this journey to the ONE who loves my in such a way that I cannot even fathom it.<br />
<br />
Your grace is enough.<br />
<br />
Well, YOUR grace and waterproof mascara.<br />
<br />
The end. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Kind of. I will work towards that being then end, after I spend a lifetime trying to understand this and simply let go of everything else.)</span><br />
<br />
I openly thank all that are putting up with me on this journey. I love you all more than I can say.<br />
<br />
This Lent is really quite amazing.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-33529379341277105952015-01-07T07:14:00.002-08:002016-01-10T20:04:07.437-08:00Away.....In a Manger.I don't cry. I don't wallow. I don't remember the date he was due. I mean, what is a due date anyways, i have never gone into labor and delivered a baby ON a due date.. . it is simply a number. I don't count days. I DO send love every time he crosses my mind and I squeeze my babies here on Earth. Other than that I do not actively mourn Beckett. It has been 3 years.<br />
<br />
Even after 3 years, the day is heavy. Just heavy. It is as if my body remembers that moment, holding my sweet baby in my hand. My entire body hunching over the sweet baby that fit in the palm of my hand. I know this is graphic. But my body, my heart still holds Beckett in my hand on this day every year. That is my reality.<br />
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Grief and loss...well these beasts are tough for me. Especially with Beckett and Lazarus. The loss of a child that I so desperately want to hold and tickle and nurture affects every facet of my day. I struggle to picture Beckett in heaven, which for me is an integral part of letting go. I struggle to picture him at all. I can remember counting his ten perfect fingers and toes. Stroking his minuscule body, but I cannot hear his laughter, remember his squishy<br />
scent or picture his smile. How hard it is to grieve without that. How devastating it must be to grieve once you HAVE all of that in your heart and mind.<br />
<br />
<br />
I know Christmas is over, but is it ever REALLY over? I like to stretch the Christmas holiday out as long as I can without appearing too nutty. So Christmas is slowly disappearing from my living room. One knick- knack at a time.<br />
<br />
As I was putting away my Kenyan banana leaf Nativity set, I dropped baby Jesus. GASP! Major party foul! I instructed my boys that dropping baby Jesus was an enormous no-no. They both looked at me like "Duh! No one drops baby Jesus but you, Mom." I thought eye rolls didn't appear until teen years. . ..I was wrong.<br />
<br />
To further drive this point home (I am not sure why I went on this tangent, but I did.) I demonstrated how to be ever so gentle with my porcelain Nativity Set. You, know... The one I keep up high and out of reach. They "oohed" over the angel as they stroked her wings. They held Mary so gently.<br />
<br />
And then Eli asked to hold Baby Jesus. I didn't hesitate, putting him in the palm of Eli's hand.<br />
<br />
And it hit me.<br />
<br />
My baby Jesus fits in the palm of my hand just as Beckett did.<br />
Just.<br />
The.<br />
Same.<br />
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<br />
I felt my body hunch in that familiar way, wanting to hold HIM with every inch of me. To protect and love. I could easily count His precious fingers and toes. I was suspended in my heartbreaking moment of loss.<br />
<br />
What a gift. To have such a poignant reminder that when I yearn to hold Beckett, I CAN hold Jesus. In my heart and in the palm of my hand.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am not sure that Nativity is coming down any time soon. NUTTY? Hmm....do. not. care.<br />
<br />
<br />
Merry Christmas to all my loves!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-42724030353524193092014-11-11T09:50:00.001-08:002016-01-10T20:09:41.894-08:00Hairy, Scary, FairyI use Facebook as I am too lazy to pick up the phone to keep up with my friends and family. Most of the time it brings me joy. Last night it brought such sadness. The news has eclipsed my need to write a long overdue update on the boys and the accounting of our recent sojourn in Arizona. Mayhaps that will come later.<br />
<br />
Lisa Peters Harris finished her battle with cancer yesterday. She fought with grace, dignity, laughter and loads of love. I did not know her well and had not kept up with her after high school; but when your graduating class has a whopping 40 members you cannot help but KNOW your fellow classmates. Lisa was always a bright light. She had a ready smile and a heart for adventure.<br />
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<br />
I watched her fight on facebook. I saw her complete Hood to Coast this year. I was blown away. She was a force to be reckoned with. I just KNEW that if anyone could kick cancer's ass, it would be Lisa. I regret that I placed that heavy honor squarely on her shoulders. She lived with dignity and grace until the end and the outpouring of love is overwhelming evidence of a life well lived.<br />
<br />
I was so blown away by the news that I could not sleep last night. I prayed. And prayed. And cried.<br />
<br />
And when I finally fell asleep I had an epically long dream about chin hair. Namely, <i>my</i> chin hair. Yes....work that one out. Please?<br />
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Lucky for me, Opie woke up no less then 2.5 million times last night. Therefore, I had 2.5 million chances to dream a different dream. And yet, every time sleep came again, the tweezers were a-flying.<br />
Needless to say....I woke up exhausted.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>AND....</b></span><br />
I woke up with the realization that something was definitely missing in my life.<br />
<br />
<br />
A hair fairy.<br />
<br />
Clearly this house needs this fairy FAR more than a tooth fairy. Tooth fairy....pfffft.<br />
<br />
I promise to sleep on my back if said hair fairy would visit my house.<br />
<br />
<br />
As I am pretty sure this would not be a look I would be okay with.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Please join me in keeping Lisa's beautiful family in your thoughts and prayers. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2DQhdqFFc0zbAP6YvSI9ia79g37y3jAQdv7jmmxsRiErPZ05rJa-3ocLVKvD4upNQYLtXhNnAWyutgxzmR-A0y-VMq4Zb15Z4PBoXnKu0SsY171LkrWeBfrxmKkZfOVubuZNcK9Jb6eK/s1600/1506598_10203344178432881_2294917411834599289_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2DQhdqFFc0zbAP6YvSI9ia79g37y3jAQdv7jmmxsRiErPZ05rJa-3ocLVKvD4upNQYLtXhNnAWyutgxzmR-A0y-VMq4Zb15Z4PBoXnKu0SsY171LkrWeBfrxmKkZfOVubuZNcK9Jb6eK/s320/1506598_10203344178432881_2294917411834599289_n.jpg" width="309" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-33506551660961614392014-10-26T13:12:00.002-07:002016-01-10T20:10:25.790-08:00And Finally.....This MARV-elous month of October is nearing an end and our final giveaway for the sweet Marv is ready to begin.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjCq2jMYNSGZr_p3wP9vja6zX3o6KfdAs6Aepbpgvqjdxb7n_5A8vHQNzzVpJgORMlI2HAi0cBQZOrfj3GPfHnSu6KHSC1-2pJ4_gH1LnawTt2NP6iH6DXlUEKGDxe41H1vB34O5ua9hc/s1600/2marv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjCq2jMYNSGZr_p3wP9vja6zX3o6KfdAs6Aepbpgvqjdxb7n_5A8vHQNzzVpJgORMlI2HAi0cBQZOrfj3GPfHnSu6KHSC1-2pJ4_gH1LnawTt2NP6iH6DXlUEKGDxe41H1vB34O5ua9hc/s1600/2marv.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This kid is too stinking cute!</td></tr>
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There is a giveaway still going for the Book with No Pictures and there are 13 entries left before we draw a winner. A $5 donation to <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv">Marv here</a> will enter you to the drawing.<br />
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Today begins the giveaway for the Toddler Elsa Doll. This doll MUST be under your Christmas tree this year! It is currently retailing for $32 online but supplies are limited. You can enter to win this coveted doll simply by sharing this giveaway. That's a no-brainer...right?<br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">THE LOW DOWN:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Donate $5, $10, $20 or more into Marv's Grant <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv" style="color: #993322; text-decoration: none;">HERE </a>and then post a comment on the Facebook post or on here. Share, share, share for an additional entry every day! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$5 = 1 entry</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$10 = 2 entries</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$20 = 6 entries.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">As I said above, sharing on your blog, Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter or any other social media outlet will get you an entry as well. One entry per share for sharing. Please remember to comment here or on the Facebook post that you have donated and/or shared! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #93c47d;"><span style="font-size: large;">And at the conclusion of the month, the person with the most shares will get $100 for the Angel Tree child of their choice and will be the proud owner of Marv the Moose! </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijD0tBzf1etUakTUK-runCKYDXQdtt_7U3_Rkn8Sza50X6ddqDyK5hqh-I0zohfO5WzzLn0zA_YI5g5KfdHOk6Zk4hcZMnVNmTAyl52X_sMKwS6BVLoX_TbQsWa0eCgvd-y8yKc1DXOwcn/s1600/71OeRqwmZiL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijD0tBzf1etUakTUK-runCKYDXQdtt_7U3_Rkn8Sza50X6ddqDyK5hqh-I0zohfO5WzzLn0zA_YI5g5KfdHOk6Zk4hcZMnVNmTAyl52X_sMKwS6BVLoX_TbQsWa0eCgvd-y8yKc1DXOwcn/s1600/71OeRqwmZiL._SL1500_.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello! I am Marv the Moose!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><b><u>$100! </u></b></span><br />
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If that doesn't grab your attention....maybe this will?<br />
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Speaking of the Angel Tree.....<br />
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<a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/christmaswarriorprogram"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7C1p6JgaaZ7ANDUZZd7CFdB1dkD7AoiYbM3_o0TP_DIJwDSS8BaQ7dj1FMXWp96XJaLw75ZAdn2I-PNskcAG35IhcXtFl0-aMCuYB-fApVs3n0ALAKPOYwCNWDOtOJ1EZ2E1rLZXWhe9V/s1600/angeltreepagehead14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Have you signed up for the Angel Tree yet? There are <strike>76</strike> 66 children waiting for their warriors! Step on up! You can be the catalyst that finds that child a home. You have nothing to lose....and they stand to lose everything. Just saying....SIGN UP!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitZS8JmetSd9FDzwxlUFLpVGFN5R5jVrbmKhszoljJe6ocN7t7UXulVy9XtXs-o1yn6Y1og_bn835EnTVryBdnBJZx4lih2Pzt_KxDC7yiKfem93r7O6tahchGP0m3gULWQ6E8PdpgnOR/s1600/marvy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitZS8JmetSd9FDzwxlUFLpVGFN5R5jVrbmKhszoljJe6ocN7t7UXulVy9XtXs-o1yn6Y1og_bn835EnTVryBdnBJZx4lih2Pzt_KxDC7yiKfem93r7O6tahchGP0m3gULWQ6E8PdpgnOR/s1600/marvy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We have raised $760 for Marv this month! Let's keep the momentum going, but most importantly, Marv needs to be seen! Share those dimples!! Marv is counting on us!<br />
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With that....<br />
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<b><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: x-large;">ON YOUR MARKS!</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>GET SET</b>, </span></span><br />
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SHARE, SHARE, SHARE!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-22519742712329502422014-10-23T12:52:00.004-07:002016-01-10T20:10:48.675-08:00NEEDNeed.<br />
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The world is filled with need. If you have small children, your day might be filled with unending declarations of need. "Mom, I need that toy!" Mom, I need some water." Mom, I <i>NEED</i> the toy that Evan has RIGHT NOW!" These declarations are quickly followed by my NEED for chocolate/coffee/ice cream/naptime....</div>
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As humans, we have needs. That is reality. </div>
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For most of my adulthood, I have been keenly aware of one massive need. The need for families. The need for love in action. In our busy lives filled with an abundance of superficial needs it is easy to become distracted. I am guilty of this. </div>
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So let me state it simply. </div>
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People NEED love. </div>
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This is not a want. This is not something we can thrive without. People are designed to NEED love. </div>
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We are CALLED to love. To <b>BE</b> His hands and His feet. I want my actions to speak love, my life to personify love, with self-denial, acts of service and with a commitment to saying "yes" as often as I can. Being human and acknowledging my own limitations and frailty I admit I could do better. It is easy to simply try to be His voice...but that is not what we are called to. Let me say it again. We are called to be His <b><i>hands and feet</i></b>. To reflect love with our actions and choices. </div>
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In the face of the tremendous need for love in our world, it may be daunting to act. To start. Let me offer a suggestion. </div>
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Pray for orphans. Invite this crisis into your heart and mind. Let it become real. The most vulnerable in our society are in need. They are deprived an essential bond of love and security. Do not despair, there is something <b>YOU</b> <b><span style="font-size: large;">CAN</span></b> <b><span style="font-size: x-large;">DO!</span></b> </div>
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You <b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">can</span></i></b> offer:</div>
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Time. </div>
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Acknowledgement.</div>
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Prayer. </div>
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Compassion.</div>
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You can prayerfully consider adoption. </div>
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Perhaps you honestly cannot adopt at this time. That doesn't mean that the crisis fails to exist because you cannot adopt. Do not hide your eyes from their faces. Do not deny their pain. Hold it in your heart and pray. Prayer moves mountains. Become involved! </div>
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Please consider <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv">Marv</a>. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5K9wSOejLLv7xf1Ve5_-QN6VcCqhjQoHXsuTc8GxJmEITl5AMl9K3zR6JX9K_k37CW-71U66z2161dsiHoldAxyHV4c5AyQRAbaCu2Wx34relk7m5T0NXUHGJAH5bpp8r7N10RUU1fMwD/s1600/2025_3788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5K9wSOejLLv7xf1Ve5_-QN6VcCqhjQoHXsuTc8GxJmEITl5AMl9K3zR6JX9K_k37CW-71U66z2161dsiHoldAxyHV4c5AyQRAbaCu2Wx34relk7m5T0NXUHGJAH5bpp8r7N10RUU1fMwD/s1600/2025_3788.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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For 13 years Marv has survived, hoping for a family.That is a very long time to wait and to maintain hope. A long time to put on a brave face. To survive. He deserves love. He deserves to be cherished. He desperately wants to play soccer. Hugs would be readily welcomed. </div>
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He does not demand a perfect family. He does not have any concept of what a family truly is. He simply wants to be wanted. To belong. To be supported. At the heart of it all, isn't that what we all crave?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukioGKVQg23UtCANTYo_9GfrPtpFfsGes1q85ZRAe5hYv6DmmpoelOorGlowNImTRWtZV1nKwF9nr7JEJ17wKOBBSQwB-NOENW4i9HI7LiZzN5CKN5eKJMlyxjNRDJFqlvioCvWp2CvKN/s1600/marvy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukioGKVQg23UtCANTYo_9GfrPtpFfsGes1q85ZRAe5hYv6DmmpoelOorGlowNImTRWtZV1nKwF9nr7JEJ17wKOBBSQwB-NOENW4i9HI7LiZzN5CKN5eKJMlyxjNRDJFqlvioCvWp2CvKN/s1600/marvy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Is that asking too much?</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Someone that has met him says: "<span style="background-color: #f7f7f7; color: #3e454c; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.28; white-space: pre-wrap;">He is great, He loves soccer, really loves it! He seemed to me to be totally cognitively typical. Though I am sure he is behind peers here in America, to be expected. He is very very small for his age (I saw him 18 months ago) He also loved playing with the camera. He expressed several times wanting to be adopted. He seemed to be a good balance of assertive but not aggressive. Being small for his age he still got out and played soccer with all kids much bigger than him."</span></blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpnD0waCVelwT7WoelzeEmRQ15A2udVV11bsZ0c1XPA4rvxsUSlKxX9CQ3Ml79-GPFL-iaImrj-siHRGqFSd-uhr-E2y8XWWwFxUBpNMht3A16ZRjg08HGSwikIVCJoyiT-pBUYeWYosX/s1600/2marv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpnD0waCVelwT7WoelzeEmRQ15A2udVV11bsZ0c1XPA4rvxsUSlKxX9CQ3Ml79-GPFL-iaImrj-siHRGqFSd-uhr-E2y8XWWwFxUBpNMht3A16ZRjg08HGSwikIVCJoyiT-pBUYeWYosX/s1600/2marv.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at those dimples! </td></tr>
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His main need is for family. FAMILY! Please see him. </div>
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Pray for him. </div>
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Share his face. </div>
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Consider him. </div>
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As we enter Holy Week, pray for this sweet boy and all the other children who anxiously wait to be chosen. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-52136827247948095942014-10-12T12:56:00.000-07:002016-01-10T20:11:15.336-08:00Leggo my Lego! <span style="background-color: #fce5cd;">Happy Sunday everyone! The sun is shining on this beautiful autumn day and we are again announcing Laura Welchert as the winner of Anna and Kristoff! Congratulations Laura! Thank you for sharing and donating! You are making a difference in Marv's life!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-epvMMWIoGdUXQnDPBIDaF9Q7ZIu97J9SsgVaV02VsmKKzuZKmlRgSFzz_By5C4bCHcAK-HRPj-9UX3_3MaMX7aagApwzBkIPmE3IBHA0I3nfajqoYiAvLeei_B531JqqTNuosjBa9ou8/s1600/2025_1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: #fce5cd; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-epvMMWIoGdUXQnDPBIDaF9Q7ZIu97J9SsgVaV02VsmKKzuZKmlRgSFzz_By5C4bCHcAK-HRPj-9UX3_3MaMX7aagApwzBkIPmE3IBHA0I3nfajqoYiAvLeei_B531JqqTNuosjBa9ou8/s1600/2025_1.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #fce5cd;">THANK YOU, LAURA!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;">The 2nd giveaway starts today. Let's usher in the age of Lego in honor of Marv.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><a href="http://www.target.com/p/lego-creator-aviation-adventures-31011/-/A-14560018?ref=tgt_adv_XSG10001&AFID=google_pla_df&LNM=14560018&CPNG=Toys&kpid=14560018&LID=34pgs&ci_src=17588969&ci_sku=14560018&kpid=14560018&gclid=CjwKEAjwzeihBRCQ84bhxrz_0w8SJAAohyh1Uvbm4U-DobJxSJ8XCcCH-LjKOuRsspKVijaYjxBzrRoC0WPw_wcB">Aviator Action Pack!</a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;">If you have boy-children....you know you need this under the tree this Christmas! It is worth $41 at a retailer near you but you could win it for FAR LESS!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Every time you share a giveaway or share Marv's sweet dimpled goodness you will be entered not only into the giveaway but your share will also be tallied for a month end drawing that could win you Marv the Moose </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat';">AND $100 for your Angel Tree child. So...suit up and get sharing!</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQHOdqGEZ5weUlcjWvMJJPt5dFCOtOCg9_3H2R3cfcE8vYJimMKaOgdWw5ItsQLxu0zdnaasGbmBBTKKmnE2xjjY4nTV6xe7cDd3hrBLpDuPF36n8PsD3CpSysDM_KOj5deBDthuvPLyK/s1600/2025_14703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: #fce5cd; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQHOdqGEZ5weUlcjWvMJJPt5dFCOtOCg9_3H2R3cfcE8vYJimMKaOgdWw5ItsQLxu0zdnaasGbmBBTKKmnE2xjjY4nTV6xe7cDd3hrBLpDuPF36n8PsD3CpSysDM_KOj5deBDthuvPLyK/s1600/2025_14703.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Share on Pinterest!</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Tweet, tweet, tweet!</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Make Facebook work for you! (and for Marv!)</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Sharing is caring!</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">If you have Christmas presents to buy...look no further! You want it, we have it...you could get awesome presents for a bargain AND help Marv find his family! The gift keeps on giving!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Up for grabs in Round 2 is this aerodynamic Lego set. Your little one will have hours of fun AND think their parents are the greatest ever when presented with this. (I know..a tad over the top, but CMON! It's for Marv!)</span></span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Here's how to get these LEGOS for CHEAP and benefit a sweet boy! Donate $5, $10, $20 or more into Marv's Grant <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv" style="color: #993322; text-decoration: none;">HERE </a>and then post a comment on the Facebook post or on here. Share, share, share for an additional entry every day! </span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$5 = 1 entry</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$10 = 2 entries</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$20 = 6 entries.</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">As I said above, sharing on your blog, Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter or any other social media outlet will get you an entry as well. One entry per day for sharing. Please remember to comment here or on the Facebook post that you have donated and/or shared! </span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"><br /></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"><span style="line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Round 2 and the Leggo my Lego giveaway will conclude on Friday October 17th at 8pm PST. Round 3 will begin on Sunday Oct 19th. </span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"><span style="line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;">Let's DO THIS!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-2101974709437582412014-10-05T12:43:00.000-07:002016-01-10T20:11:53.033-08:00Mission to MarvHere is your mission, if you choose to accept it.<br />
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For the Marvelous month of October we are sharing Marv's face a story. We are praying for his family to step forward for him. We are raising money and we need your help!<br />
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The first fundraising giveaway starts right now. IF you are anything like me, you might be considered a teenie bit competitive. I see that as a positive! I don't know about anyone else. . .but I think it's awesome.<br />
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Every time you share a giveaway or share Marv's sweet dimpled goodness you will be entered not only into the giveaway but your share will also be tallied for a month end drawing that could win you Marv the Moose <span style="font-size: x-large;">AND $100 for your Angel Tree child. So...suit up and get sharing!</span><br />
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Share on Pinterest!<br />
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Tweet, tweet, tweet!<br />
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Make Facebook work for you! (and for Marv!)<br />
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Sharing is caring!<br />
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If you have Christmas presents to buy...look no further! You want it, we have it...you could get awesome presents for a bargain AND help Marv find his family! The gift keeps on giving!<br />
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Up for grabs in Round 1 are Kristoff and Anna..a match made in Disney heaven. Your little one will have hours of fun AND think their parents are the greatest ever when presented with these dolls. (I know..a tad over the top, but CMON! It's for Marv!)</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Here's how to get them for CHEAP and benefit a sweet boy! Donate $5, $10, $20 or more into Marv's Grant <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv" style="color: #993322; text-decoration: none;">HERE </a>and then post a comment on the Facebook post or on here. Share, share, share for an additional entry every day! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$5 = 1 entry</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$10 = 2 entries</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$20 = 6 entries.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">As I said above, sharing on your blog, Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter or any other social media outlet will get you an entry as well. One entry per day for sharing. Please remember to comment here or on the Facebook post that you have donated and/or shared! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Walter Turncoat;"><span style="line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Round 1 and the Christof/Anna giveaway will conclude on Friday October 10th at 8pm PST. Round 2 will begin on Sunday Oct 12th. Let's DO THIS!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Walter Turncoat;"><span style="line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">From Reece's Rainbow:<span style="font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span><br />
<h1 class="title" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 28px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;">
<a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/59779/marv" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; color: #3d3d3d; direction: ltr; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Marv</a></h1>
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<img alt="Marv (1)" class="size-medium wp-image-59815 alignright" src="http://reecesrainbow.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Marv-1-250x300.jpg" height="300" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; display: inline; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" width="250" /><img alt="Marv (2)" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-59816" src="http://reecesrainbow.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Marv-2-247x300.jpg" height="300" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; display: inline; float: left; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" width="247" />Boy, born October 2001<br />
Crossed-eyes, development delays</div>
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From someone who met him:<br />
Marv is a very sweet, happy boy. He loves to play soccer, even though his vision problems make that very difficult for him. He has been living in a boarding school for typical kids, and receiving his own private lessons, but recently was transferred to a facility in another region specifically for children with special needs. His favorite class is math, and he gets great grades in math. His least favorite class is Ukrainian. He is said to learn more slowly than other children, which is why he has required private lessons.</div>
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He is cheerful, friendly, and sociable. He said several times he would like to be adopted by an American family.</div>
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<span class="donation_meter_amount ltr" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; color: #125210; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 33px; margin: auto; outline: 0px; overflow: auto; padding: 5px 0px 15px; vertical-align: baseline;">$117.50</span> has been donated towards the cost of my adoption!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-17943517277354883062014-10-01T21:06:00.000-07:002016-01-10T20:12:50.330-08:00The Marv-elous Month of OctoberFall is definitely in the air. There is a chill to the day, there's the excitement leading up to Halloween...the hint of cinnamon and mischievousness in the air. I love it. This season makes me want to curl up with my loved ones and snuggle a little more often. To take stock and to appreciate the people that I get to call mine.<br />
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October is also <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv">Marv's</a> month. His birth month and this year, it ushers in his teen years. As I was looking through the database to find more pictures of Marv the multitude of 12-13 year old boys without families was just too much. To survive 12-13 years without the love of a family, I cannot fathom. Some faces are still open and hopeful, some show signs of anger and some appear quite sad and hopeless. All of those little faces crying out for love, for guidance, for family. Sigh. Boys! Why are so many boys waiting? I have 3 of my own and the joy of boys...it's immeasurable. Let's get this boy home!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1AYCDwYExwg4m0cpdOWalBv2VICdGVrinwywU4ohWP7Sf1tMD7AaLg15gzg58FyLl0E0TxFIPsjrnoerg7FSZO4POiiD-qetXCKX2Ns5ieEPLBseNpn3vndui6tdV70FlmYPhCiFAVjk/s1600/Marv-1-250x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1AYCDwYExwg4m0cpdOWalBv2VICdGVrinwywU4ohWP7Sf1tMD7AaLg15gzg58FyLl0E0TxFIPsjrnoerg7FSZO4POiiD-qetXCKX2Ns5ieEPLBseNpn3vndui6tdV70FlmYPhCiFAVjk/s1600/Marv-1-250x300.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I mean...seriously? Dimples galore!</td></tr>
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When it all starts to feel hopeless, I like to focus on what I CAN DO. SO.....I am partnering with the delightful Annie Trenda this month to bring some attention to <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv">Marv</a>. To share his face and his story. To celebrate his birth month and to raise his grant so that when his family sees him, they can bring him home quickly.<br />
An advocate has met him and this is what they have to say about him: <i>M<span style="background-color: white; color: #232323; font-family: Georgia, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">arv is a very sweet, happy boy. He loves to play soccer, even though his vision problems make that very difficult for him. He has been living in a boarding school for typical kids, and receiving his own private lessons, but recently was transferred to a facility in another region specifically for children with special needs. His favorite class is math, and he gets great grades in math. His least favorite class is Ukrainian. He is said to learn more slowly than other children, which is why he has required private lessons.</span></i><br />
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<i>He is cheerful, friendly, and sociable. He said several times he would like to be adopted by an American family.</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_55BpDYpEj__oombe6Z5ycU6s4o-f_8CqS6W5rm0XoQ2oKk0RsrBmeloqxPEZfywyC2JSsxL1fOmHF5uDbto1N950cdlVf7RZUgvvXm39H7qCNjUSzKRFfzaU6WbDeCrxDKZxf5QL8QT/s1600/2025_2156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_55BpDYpEj__oombe6Z5ycU6s4o-f_8CqS6W5rm0XoQ2oKk0RsrBmeloqxPEZfywyC2JSsxL1fOmHF5uDbto1N950cdlVf7RZUgvvXm39H7qCNjUSzKRFfzaU6WbDeCrxDKZxf5QL8QT/s1600/2025_2156.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, I cannot even stand the cuteness. </td></tr>
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<a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv">Marv</a> will not be overlooked this month. We are recognizing his birth ALL MONTH LONG! Happy Birthday sweet boy!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0oN2tWbiT624aCdWZr8OtwZRMJa8lnjr1RYWtkqbxMTlgRP4W1ZjNKmUXF_SfY2gJ1lEdoE6DR-zNuRbRmkkB6f_Xl4qbszb8-DYanhhiDI6bzOh3ImWj4wod8j_67LH0UeJEx7TWhBV/s1600/2025_2154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0oN2tWbiT624aCdWZr8OtwZRMJa8lnjr1RYWtkqbxMTlgRP4W1ZjNKmUXF_SfY2gJ1lEdoE6DR-zNuRbRmkkB6f_Xl4qbszb8-DYanhhiDI6bzOh3ImWj4wod8j_67LH0UeJEx7TWhBV/s1600/2025_2154.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Each week we will be hosting a quick giveaway to raise funds. Awesome items up for grabs!! If anyone wants to donate an item for this cause, please let me know! We are really hoping to get his grant moving. He has been at $103 for WAY TOO LONG!<br />
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Here is the teaser: Start your Christmas shopping now!!<br />
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This will start soon (Sunday Oct 5th)...so keep your eyes and ears open! It is going to go fast!<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Here's how to get them for CHEAP and benefit a sweet boy! Donate $5, $10, $20 or more into Marv's Grant <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/?s=marv">HERE </a>and then post a comment on the Facebook post or on here. Share, share, share for an additional entry every day! But don't start yet, each week will be your chance to score one or more of the items above.</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$5 = 1 entry</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$10 = 2 entries</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">$20 = 6 entries.</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Walter Turncoat'; font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 28.9799995422363px;">Sharing on facebook or twitter will get you an entry as well. One entry per day for sharing.</span></span><br />
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This campaign will conclude 10/31/14. The advocate with the most shares will not only be the proud owner of Marv the Moose, but they will also secure a $100 donation to their AT child or a Waiting Child of their choice!<br />
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Let's rally for Marv!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-74966127573804566682014-09-04T20:12:00.001-07:002016-01-10T20:18:52.042-08:00Oh water and whispersI give you permission to call me Preachy McGee today. I will likely earn the moniker. <br />
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The past few days have been one heck of a roller coaster ride. The emotions, thoughts and fears that have been smashing around in my skull have been overwhelming and I got completely caught up in the whirlwind and I completely missed it. <br />
<br />
A whisper. <br />
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A whisper that told me that all is not lost. <br />
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That hope exists. <br />
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That love DOES win. <br />
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That GOD HAS THIS. <br />
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I, once again....nearly missed it. <br />
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"God speaks in the silence of the heart. LISTENING is the beginning of prayer." Blessed Mother Teresa</blockquote>
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The grief that would have saved me is embarrassing. Once again; I am being prompted to stop, breathe, listen. To release my clenched fists. Someone far more capable has GOT THIS. <br />
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My idea of strength has been going through a metamorphosis for the past 20 years or so (yea, I might be the world's slowest learner.) I once believed physical strength made me strong. A strong intellect clearly exhibited strength. Then I threw myself into believing that a strong prayer life was the ticket. And again, controlling a situation and getting my way CLEARLY meant I was strong. <br />
<br />
Sigh. <br />
<br />
I look at this week. At my brokenness. My helplessness. The desperation. The noise in my life. The chaos. My goals, my hopes, my desires, my to-do list. MY, MY, MY. <br />
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And I was knocked on my butt by a whisper. <br />
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A whisper.<br />
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I can admit that I am the queen of mistakes and misnomers. <br />
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Today a whisper was more powerful that two days of internal shouting. Pleading and begging. A whisper carried more weight and promise. Effortlessly. <br />
<br />
That whisper exuded strength that I have never heard in a shout. A strength that does not manifest itself in shows of physical strength or in masterful control of every possibility. That whisper did not need to fight fire with fire. That whisper quietly doused the fire that was churning inside of me. What is the point of fighting fire with fire anyway? It only yields more fire. Rarely does it achieve the result you are hoping for. You cannot build with fire. Fire destroys and ravages. <br />
<br />
With a gentleness that I cannot wrap my head around, that whisper kicked my heinie. <br />
<br />
Big, strong Becki was blown away by a whisper.<br />
<br />
<br />
I spent more than my fair share of time today crying and surveying my kingdom. With new eyes, seeing all the little ways that love, kindness and gentleness are manifested daily. The fruits of these are indescribable. <br />
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I am committing myself to shifting gears. Gentleness shall be my goal. When I feel like shouting. may I whisper. When my fists and jaw are clenched may I remember to release them. May I remember that just because someone feels like arguing, I need not oblige. May I become strong with gentleness of mind and spirit. May my actions allow love in. May I be kind and in that kindness find my strength.<br />
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May I forever remember today and the strength of that whisper. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-19387026395480436662014-08-18T09:37:00.000-07:002014-08-18T09:37:01.924-07:00Carpe Diem, AmenIt has been well over 18 months since I have gotten a full night of sleep. I look like a cast member of the Walking Dead. Not exaggerating. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Yikes, I start WAY too many of my blog entries with this statement.)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good thing he's cute!</td></tr>
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Hubby and I were watching a bit of Shark Week yesterday while the boys were down for rest time and we were reminiscing about our life pre-kids.<br />
<br />
Sundays were magically lazy days for us. After Church we would each pick a sofa and there we would stay for the majority of the day. We rationalized that it was all okay because we spent our time watching the History Channel or NatGeo...so even though our bodies were wasting away, our brains were somewhat active.<br />
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"Oh, we did NOT know how good we had it."<br />
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That phrase has been bouncing around in my head since noon yesterday. I have never really noticed, in the moment just how good my life was...except in Kenya. There, I was well aware of my blissful, blessed existence. Why Kenya? Kenya forced me to slow down. It eliminated all of the background noise and senselessness that permeates life here in the US. I didn't spend my day in front of a laptop, with my smartphone near by. I was not plugged in to anything but the wonder of life all around me.<br />
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It is no secret that I am desperately tired. All of the time. I fear I am a broken record about it. I cannot even remember the last time I woke up on my own; feeling rested and ready for the day ahead. I have managed to reduce my laptop time drastically and my phone is on the counter most of the day, NOT in my hand...and yet. . .I am missing it.<br />
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I thought about taking the boys to the Library today. But I cannot summon the energy. Doing just about anything with all three of my boys seems daunting and I end up wishing I could spend my day on the couch watching TV. What I wouldn't give for just a day or two of my old life.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, cuteness...but at 6 am? Not as cute....</td></tr>
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The boys are playing in their play room. I recognize that these precious moments free from screaming and wrestling boys ARE magical. To recognize that is progress but I also know that I want to cherish the chaos of taking my boys to the library. It can be so easy to appreciate the sweet moments but they can also be easily lost in the sea of work. The vast and unending laundry. In the energy that they love to expend in the most inappropriate of places. I want to embrace the sharpie all over the inside of their brand new playset with humor. I want to smile when remembering how it was BREAKING NEWS they just had to tell me every time they needed the bathroom. I want to remember cherishing the fact that my giant 4 year old still wants me to carry him to his bed and heft his form into his bunk bed. I want to be present enough to catalog the love and the joy that these kids bring every day....filling my heart and mind with all the good so that the chaos and exhaustion can be forgotten, pushed right out of my memory.<br />
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I often have rose-colored hind sight and I hope that remains true. I am certain that when my hands are curled and aching, when my hair has turned white and I no longer can get off of the sofa I will LONG for the noise and chaos of the angels in my home. That I would happily exchange a night of sleep for the exhausting joy that comes with children. To feel needed and used up. Peeing in privacy won't be the most coveted moment of my day.<br />
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My arms will ache to carry my giant children, clutching them close for just a moment longer.<br />
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I know that I will sit and stare off into space saying "Oh, I did NOT know how GOOD I had it." I will miss the moments that drive me crazy today. I will gladly take all of the stress and chaos for a moment with a sweet baby asleep in my arms. I am so very blessed with chaos and noise; with exhaustion and laundry; with 3 little boys that love and need me until I have nothing left. I am SO VERY BLESSED.<br />
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God, give me the grace, the patience and the humor to soak in all of my blessings today and everyday. Amen.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-29661219968036281592014-08-12T14:33:00.001-07:002014-08-12T14:33:24.823-07:00Nap Time Nap time is normally my down time. Sometimes it involves me reclining on the couch. . .feet up. Bowl of ice cream? Perhaps.<br />
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Today? Not today. Today I was on a mission. I am taking matters into my own hands.<br />
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Mission accomplished. That tennis racket. . .it's called The Executioner. I am hopeful that it is the destroyer of fruit flies. The solution to the battle that I am currently losing. <br />
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Thank you Amazon! Solving issues during nap time is better than a bowl of ice cream. Kind of.<br />
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Happy Tuesday!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-73963573030128394922014-08-08T09:05:00.002-07:002016-01-10T20:29:44.062-08:00Accelerated <div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt1"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt1" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 1 ---</a></strong></div>
It's Friday! My decades in the workforce ingrained in me the desire to cheer when Friday arrives. Now that I am a stay at home mama with littles. . .it kind of pisses me off. I still cheer despite the fact that I know Saturday and Sunday will not be much different from the rest of the week. My duties remain unchanged. There is no end to the work. hahaa. But HOORAY! It's Friday! UGH.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt2"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt2" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 2 ---</a></strong></div>
I feel a little like Scrooge McDuck today. That is your warning. You might want to click the pretty little x in the top right corner about now. I am about to start quacking. Possibly to the point of completely quacking up.<br />
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<dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://visualhunt.com/photo/42429/">
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<dd class="wp-caption-dd" style="margin: 0; padding: 0;"><span style="display: block; float: right;"> Photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/randar/11584691024/">Tom Simpson</a> via <a href="http://visualhunt.com/">Visual Hunt</a> / <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span></dd></dl>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt3"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt3" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 3 ---</a></strong></div>
The fly infestation has waned. But *cringe* I found a bee in our house. . .which put a massive bee in my bonnet. I know bees are our friends. .but not the kind of friend I would ever, ever invite into my house. Any bee that dare gain entrance into this house be warned....<br />
So. . .I did what any logical person would do and I cleaned him with disinfectant cleaner until he decided I was the worst host ever and.....<br />
I know I wanted to live in the country. . .but I am not sure I understood that meant all the country critters would move in with me.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt4"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt4" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 4 ---</a></strong></div>
It has been about a month now, in this here brand spanking new house. The toilet bubbles when the boys lift the drain in the tub. The dark wood flooring must be swept several times a day as it shows every speck and crumb the boys leave in their wake. The dishwasher followed the bee's example and committed hari kari three nights ago. My mailbox is a good 6 minute walk away. As I type that it doesnt seem far but that is a 12 minute excursion to go and pick up bills and junk mail and to send my money to these bill collectors. The hot water heater has been turned all the way up and the shower is slightly warm. I should be pleased that it is not frigid...I know.00<br />
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The front flower beds were filled with wet concrete. I am unsure how the plants are supposed to grow and thrive in concrete but we are watering the bejeebers out of them in hopes that we are wrong. The beautiful lawn is beginning to die in strange patches. Perhaps because it has been planted in concrete? Please, no!<br />
I cannot find a preschool with any availability within a reasonable driving distance. Oh wait. . .I found one that will cost us $500 a month for 3 half days each week. GASP.<br />
BUT the house is pretty! The view is incredible and a gurgling toilet and a plethora of buzzing insects in the house only enhance our daily soundtrack. Right?<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt5"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt5" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 5 ---</a></strong></div>
I am going to a friend's house for dinner tonight. She asked me to bring a fruit salad.....and that stopped me in my tracks. Embarrassing admission #327.5. I *ahem* have never made a fruit salad. Ever. What would this mama do with out friends and pinterest forcing her to be a better mama?<br />
I am making this for tonight. And by making, I mean. . .tossing all of it in a bowl. Voila. Why have I never "cooked" fruit salad before? Seems like my kind of cooking!<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt6"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt6" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 6 ---</a></strong></div>
My boys are in their bedroom, supposedly making their beds. But it is awfully quiet in there. Not a good sign...but I am really relishing the break. . .and the quiet.<br />
I have recently been told that 4 year olds should have learned to close the screen door by now. . .a month after moving in here. They should be speaking in full and proper sentences all the time and urine ON the toilet is completely shocking. They should know exactly why they do the things they do.<br />
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I think that is utterly amazing and clearly I have missed the accelerated parenting trend. I am clearly hindering my childrens' growth and education. Apparently after four years and a month my kids should be ready for life on their own.. . .incredible? RIGHT? I have spent a few minutes googling this and have come up with bubkiss which is unacceptable. If anyone knows of this accelerated parenting miracle program. . please clue this mama in!<br />
Quack. Quack.Quackity Quack.<br />
Uh oh....there is far too much laughing in that bedroom now...<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt7"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt7" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 7 ---</a></strong></div>
One final thought before I investigate what is going on with the boys.<br />
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This boy! This dear boy whom I have shouted for, prayed for and dreamt about met his Mama and his brother. Divine Providence. How I wish I could share pictures and more. . .anyone that does not believe in God and His beautiful plan needs to follow an adoption journey. The miracle will blow your mind.<br />
As soon as I can I will share the wonderful pictures of Brett meeting his family.. He is incredible and I could not be more overjoyed to witness this loving miracle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNOfH8W7ozxzTTZXUYApDvz3hGStLTmTgibkbu2_S5OFTNMjIT4doQgGNhLcVLRgzZ233ObaIMpar3K2NGvk56VZgriWS-xphtHQnmw3Q-ob05ayOFSKypb4KNQG_vm9yTtxuVAoY6XUW/s1600/226767_405152452897641_986429274_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNOfH8W7ozxzTTZXUYApDvz3hGStLTmTgibkbu2_S5OFTNMjIT4doQgGNhLcVLRgzZ233ObaIMpar3K2NGvk56VZgriWS-xphtHQnmw3Q-ob05ayOFSKypb4KNQG_vm9yTtxuVAoY6XUW/s1600/226767_405152452897641_986429274_n.jpg" /></a></div>
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It's Friday! WOOOOHOOOO! Ugh.<br />
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For more Quick Takes, visit <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Conversion Diary!</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-55255735589281964102014-08-04T07:15:00.001-07:002014-08-04T07:26:06.769-07:00Moving to the country...Well we are here! Moved! An epic undertaking that had a soundtrack all its own. I like to think that the soundtrack was "moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches..." But that would be delusional.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-R2O1i6_Lfa4TobhYKyL2vOZUrGdRI_o0UDtRL_5aAmzfGUWLRI9VRMbdFNOV2PYQKDvC9d2ztMrjb-t8F-Jb1wCYEJTvHBxecanP6U1xY_ZdmwyCnXmsKLTIA6KaqorV_UVf0EY_lDI/s1600/20140803_125318-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-R2O1i6_Lfa4TobhYKyL2vOZUrGdRI_o0UDtRL_5aAmzfGUWLRI9VRMbdFNOV2PYQKDvC9d2ztMrjb-t8F-Jb1wCYEJTvHBxecanP6U1xY_ZdmwyCnXmsKLTIA6KaqorV_UVf0EY_lDI/s1600/20140803_125318-1.jpg" height="320" width="190" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, it looks like he is waiting for a Police pat-down. </td></tr>
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Honestly, it was a lot of yelling and crying. Lost swimsuits (yippeeee) and misplaced toys. Glass breaking and tempers flaring. To be blunt, I miss the old house terribly. It was not pretty.<br />
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Somewhere in the midst of that my baby sister got married and my mother in law had surgery on her ankle and spent some time recuperating at my little casa....and she was also treated to our special soundtrack. Soothing, I am sure.<br />
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But...we are here and we are all accounted for. My boys are loving the house and the yard. The town and all its charm.<br />
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My Opie will take his first steps here in this new house. He gets closer by the minute. I love watching him grow and learn...but I also watch in fear. Once he is walking. . . life will get even busier. 3 uber active boys!! If only they all liked to clean!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCqSxCMMujqG9qQ34JgXNabI482iCMuu-DtlTJpIS8O3F5ePOM5YZrR6f2vEFFJP1w8ndZLWndL3Ik8zeZFWh7l36vjXeDDNsGfNWz8n7sAhSRewQ6h9Yt2jcgBui7qRgnh6wRniNNqh6/s1600/10548044_10152231181032727_8265021742464845020_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCqSxCMMujqG9qQ34JgXNabI482iCMuu-DtlTJpIS8O3F5ePOM5YZrR6f2vEFFJP1w8ndZLWndL3Ik8zeZFWh7l36vjXeDDNsGfNWz8n7sAhSRewQ6h9Yt2jcgBui7qRgnh6wRniNNqh6/s1600/10548044_10152231181032727_8265021742464845020_o.jpg" height="160" width="320" /></a></div>
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But it is bucolic here.<br />
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The stars are brighter, the air cleaner. Waking up to the views here. .. it is hard to complain. Kind of.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMN0vA9oJ0weru5fF054oo_LDYe8_8vBz7khWWxDirKWOQICtglzC05x0-dSKLn-Fkqb1_67wYtzsDvi-U9QGfDW2E8r-psr3_UZkJ6VrtDlv8Nm_z6Nhh57Ucr7qTlV7H9SmR0VbsVxpR/s1600/20140804_065137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMN0vA9oJ0weru5fF054oo_LDYe8_8vBz7khWWxDirKWOQICtglzC05x0-dSKLn-Fkqb1_67wYtzsDvi-U9QGfDW2E8r-psr3_UZkJ6VrtDlv8Nm_z6Nhh57Ucr7qTlV7H9SmR0VbsVxpR/s1600/20140804_065137.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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For some reason, the idea of moving to the country did not include an insane amount of bugs....everywhere. Four year old boys do not grasp that the door must be shut behind them and therefore we are swarmed. I am covered in bug bites despite the citronella bonfire I light outside every night and my husband has resorted to decorating our new house with fly strips.<br />
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Yup. Here in the country we need Jesus and flytraps. Hubby did not want to have them just hanging around so he secured them all with blue tape. Currently, there are 4 such strips on our walls. . .and since there are no flies stuck to them, I bet there will be more up before the end of the day.<br />
On the bright side, I no longer feel the need to buy paintings for the walls.<br />
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The boys just woke up and Eli tells me "I named the fly in my room Buzzer. He is my friend." New friends in our new town. Awesome.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSrurnGuesYI54blms1-2u5xtfHxaFC3HEsx3LLF5oZZ9QFBjk8ayq6q5CGZ_2O4JE1nWmsAXE3SuPpN0VOScGX0v3S90_TCIWy4bj6FzMdFTPN-wYJJxqJVjthDZgAYjNZhTQG5xx8R-/s1600/20140804_070904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSrurnGuesYI54blms1-2u5xtfHxaFC3HEsx3LLF5oZZ9QFBjk8ayq6q5CGZ_2O4JE1nWmsAXE3SuPpN0VOScGX0v3S90_TCIWy4bj6FzMdFTPN-wYJJxqJVjthDZgAYjNZhTQG5xx8R-/s1600/20140804_070904.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is currently a fly on the wall right above the flystip. Not on it. .. nope...</td></tr>
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And allergies. YIKES.<br />
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My soundtrack has changed in the past week.<br />
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"I moved into the country. Gonna need alot of kleenex."<br />
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I have missed blogging! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-31177814908579546552014-07-10T12:27:00.003-07:002016-01-10T20:38:34.801-08:00Losing it. <div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg"><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-1387" src="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg" height="195" title="7_quick_takes_sm" width="290" /></a>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Posting this early because if I don't it might get lost in the chaos here.</span><span style="font-size: 130%;"> </span><br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt1"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt1" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 1 ---</a></strong></div>
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Whoever said "Build a house; lose a spouse" was not kidding. I am ready to kill just about anyone that dares look at me let alone open their mouth. I am beyond being at my wit's end.. .. I have no wit left. I am completely wit-less. And honestly, if my husband comes downstairs with any more curveballs, I will make the above phrase true.<br />
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We were supposed to move two days ago. First the builder dropped the ball...now our mortgage company is following suit. So. . .as I has mistakenly joked many many months ago. . .we are moving at the same time my baby sister is getting married. Life is a complete disaster.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uqLRf6nLXR3WjfIEXKiLAHux9j7Brc3EPu2n7VQjirVV4s-jRRujDtynTO5wQki6BIAhQWRQZo67fPkNumXEd8unhmEaorUEyHa1Tj7aksQGB1TSAePS8nXc_MHwxQlFxH-vgaxzWsdW/s1600/20140710_104019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uqLRf6nLXR3WjfIEXKiLAHux9j7Brc3EPu2n7VQjirVV4s-jRRujDtynTO5wQki6BIAhQWRQZo67fPkNumXEd8unhmEaorUEyHa1Tj7aksQGB1TSAePS8nXc_MHwxQlFxH-vgaxzWsdW/s1600/20140710_104019.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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I am finding it difficult to live in my "living room" and there is no idea when we will actually get to move these boxes into our new living room. I would bang my head against the wall repeatedly if I could get to one.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt2"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt2" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 2 ---</a></strong><br />
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Beckett would be two today. I really don't know how it really works in cases of miscarriage. .. is he 2 in heaven? I know it doesn't matter but the question came up in conversation today and my wit-less brain stalled. And I just sat there thinking about my sweet baby boy.<br />
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Funny how that works. He might not have been a sweet boy. He might have turned out to be as willful as his brother. As temperamental as his parents. Who knows... but in my head he is the sweetest ever.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt3"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt3" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 3 ---</a></strong><br />
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My husband has been involved in some pro-life discussions online following the Hobby Lobby verdict. (Let's all pause and cheer because this is a big deal.) As I am spending a bit of time remembering my short journey with Beckett I am angered again by some skewed views of the "Pro-Choice" movement.<br />
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I had no choice when I received the news that Beckett would have Down Syndrome. I had no say in the patronizing, pseudo-sympathetic face my "doctor" gave me when he told me that it would be in the best interest of all involved if I simply aborted my baby.<br />
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I had NO CHOICE when he brought up abortion several more times as the only humane and logical answer to this "problem." I had no choice to hear or not hear him say "If you really love your baby, you should terminate this pregnancy" as he kindly handed me a tissue. Where was my choice in that situation. I had not gone out seeking information on termination.<br />
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My baby was/is perfect just as he is. He was NOT a problem. He was created in the image and likeness of God. Not only that, but he would have likely had my eyes. His dad's lips. My sense of humor (and hopefully intelligence.)<br />
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I may be overstepping here, or misspeaking, but before you call me out on it, take a minute and re-read my first quick take.<br />
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He was God's creation but he was also my masterpiece. He was part of me. Part of my husband. A perfect product of love. He was my precious baby and to repeatedly hear that he was not worth a chance...well that was not MY CHOICE. To hear in my moment of grief that I should simply toss him away. . .what kind of choice is that?<br />
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It simply breaks my heart. If I spend too much time reliving that moment I may end up in a dark place.<br />
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We all have a choice....if only we all chose love. So many people spend so much time defending the right to NOT LOVE. To not care and to act in a way that ends the life of a masterpiece.<br />
The world clearly needs more LOVE.<br />
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It boggles my mind and I must stop here.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt4"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt4" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 4 ---</a></strong><br />
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I got to witness a miracle this week. If any of you read my blog you know that I adore Brett. If I had my way, he would be here in my disaster of a house already. He speaks to me and he has been through the wringer waiting for a family to commit to him forever.<br />
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This week not only did a family commit to him (they travel to his country on the 21st of this month) but a generous group of angels banded together and raised money for his adoption. His adoption fund went from 10k to nearly 14k in a matter of hours. A matter of hours! I was blown away.<br />
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Thank you to all that have listened to my endless shouting for Brett. Thank you to all that have prayed, shared and donated.<br />
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Thank you GOD for listening to these prayers and for sending such an amazing family to him. Please bless the rest of this journey for them! If you feel called to donate, funds are still needed! <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/1581/brett2601">DONATE HERE!</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt5"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt5" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 5 ---</a></strong><br />
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There are many children blessed enough to be born. Masterpieces waiting for their family to cherish them. Adoption is not easy. Trust me. I know. We are still in the trenches here, but there is joy and there is growth. Love is not always easy. Parenting is hardest when I let other irritants and distractions get in the way of love. Evan has been home for 20 months. AND LOOK! JUST LOOK! Every time I feel I am failing as a Mama. . .I need to stop and look.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicayoNGlXBolWVNdvmUewSki3GWSmu5uyH_EWl9W4GFm9hW-yvgYRZVgOOHOpSmYCzJfL0N648V8MsXLNXisFO4f7gemX8q4c4XQ1YhVV1E4I9yb76bw4LAfkIwaSYo7OEyi0cRgPDwO8_/s1600/picisto-20140707162113-158146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicayoNGlXBolWVNdvmUewSki3GWSmu5uyH_EWl9W4GFm9hW-yvgYRZVgOOHOpSmYCzJfL0N648V8MsXLNXisFO4f7gemX8q4c4XQ1YhVV1E4I9yb76bw4LAfkIwaSYo7OEyi0cRgPDwO8_/s1600/picisto-20140707162113-158146.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt6"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt6" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 6 ---</a></strong><br />
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In honor of Beckett, here are two perfect little boys waiting for their families. Open your mind and heart to consider adoption! These children are perfect just as they are!<br />
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<a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/75688/rogan">Rogan</a></h1>
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<img alt="40331223243 Rogan" class="alignleft size-full wp-image-75689" src="http://reecesrainbow.org/wp-content/uploads/40331223243-Rogan.jpg" height="225" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; display: inline; float: left; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" width="271" />Boy, born May 2013</div>
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Down syndrome, Cleft lip / cleft palate, rickets, additional chord of the left heart ventricle, carrier of Hep. C antibodies</div>
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What a sweetheart! He will be available for adoption in early summer.</div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="qt7"></a><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1714613209655933701#qt7" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">--- 7 ---</a></strong><br />
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<a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/66607/vaughan">Vaughan</a></h1>
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AW! Look at this sweet chunky boy! </div>
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<img alt="Vaughan Photo 4 Apr-2013" class="size-medium wp-image-66608 alignright" src="http://reecesrainbow.org/wp-content/uploads/Vaughan-Photo-4-Apr-2013-242x300.jpg" height="300" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; display: inline; float: right; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" width="242" /><a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/66607/vaughan/vaughan-2014" rel="attachment wp-att-77271" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; color: #1c4d9a; direction: ltr; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><img alt="Vaughan-2014" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-77271" src="http://reecesrainbow.org/wp-content/uploads/Vaughan-2014-300x300.jpg" height="300" style="background: none; border-image: none; border: 0px; display: inline; float: left; font-size: 12.72px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" width="300" /></a>Boy, Born February 2012</div>
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Down syndrome</div>
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Brown hair, brown eyed Vaughan was born in February of 2012 with Down syndrome. He has an infectious smile and big brown eyes.</div>
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<b style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Update April 2013:</b>What a sweet and active boy. He always wants to play and brings your attention on him. He is very smiley and very happy boy. He moves a lot and likes to play with toys. He can roll over and sits up with support. He babbles. He eats and sleeps well and does not get sick very often.</div>
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<strong style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-size: 11.818181991577148px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Update July 2014:</strong> Vaughan continues to be an active, alert and happy child who loves to dance. He walks, climbs, sits up, points, understands instructions, and finds ways to communicate his needs. Vaughan babbles and is described as an all around fun kid.</div>
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Even though Vaughan was born prematurely at 36 weeks gestation, he is very healthy. It is reported that he does not have a heart defect and currently requires no special care.</div>
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For more Quick Takes, visit <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Conversion Diary!</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-83226414194233648212014-07-07T21:06:00.002-07:002014-07-07T21:06:47.295-07:00Little does he knowWhat can I say that I have not said recently. I love this boy. Here is <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/1581/brett2601">Brett</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghFXVUIEsZqHkNfFvwgVnf-JzpJ2qyTxJdNbO5JwhTUuvobXqNpTULWS0qedyyiB-wP4jA8S6FdIHf0phZICsHuqNPGGWpe-zpfIjvqWJbKWm_QhBzW6qUFF2IssiQ_uupKSV-Ss-D2R84/s1600/226767_405152452897641_986429274_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghFXVUIEsZqHkNfFvwgVnf-JzpJ2qyTxJdNbO5JwhTUuvobXqNpTULWS0qedyyiB-wP4jA8S6FdIHf0phZICsHuqNPGGWpe-zpfIjvqWJbKWm_QhBzW6qUFF2IssiQ_uupKSV-Ss-D2R84/s1600/226767_405152452897641_986429274_n.jpg" /></a></div>
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This boy tugs at my heart. His story is one that should break all of our hearts.<br />
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He is living in a situation most dire. His needs are not being met. He is not somewhere that he can thrive and grow. He cannot learn in safety, he is being mistreated. He does not know what love is. No idea what family means or that he is precious and lovable. He has endured this existence for nearly 7 years.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1R5oGMrKYQq8RICykwsoCO-fKSZqTotVXt75dM-OiiiuRgUrCD7WFcgGye55A19Ip8GHAj1aGI-Hp4lbVD_NuEfMNOnisrprx2czCd6ng4oXlfX7PJ_NfOrL6dWMPlu9XzfYvF2zpeKAk/s1600/brettsky.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1R5oGMrKYQq8RICykwsoCO-fKSZqTotVXt75dM-OiiiuRgUrCD7WFcgGye55A19Ip8GHAj1aGI-Hp4lbVD_NuEfMNOnisrprx2czCd6ng4oXlfX7PJ_NfOrL6dWMPlu9XzfYvF2zpeKAk/s1600/brettsky.png" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
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But his story is not over.<br />
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Little does he know that he is already loved. That a group of warriors decided not to let his story end in an institutional bed. <br />
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Little does he know that he is famous and his sweet face has been seen by thousands. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUm82A0pm57VAhLZ0mTD5XNsbhI015LeGt8e0_40aByxtVRjt1W4bT6Vpmj2FPIP0Dp_KlWKAwglFI7iBDtU0_PrIDdoA5V_iVKfgNSYUb5Lffmeo1N0OfB9ZNd2Ll_665Qgn_rl3ttrge/s1600/1001980_10202208984890129_3727832225958586389_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUm82A0pm57VAhLZ0mTD5XNsbhI015LeGt8e0_40aByxtVRjt1W4bT6Vpmj2FPIP0Dp_KlWKAwglFI7iBDtU0_PrIDdoA5V_iVKfgNSYUb5Lffmeo1N0OfB9ZNd2Ll_665Qgn_rl3ttrge/s1600/1001980_10202208984890129_3727832225958586389_n.jpg" height="320" width="185" /></a></div>
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Little does he know that his family has found him.<br />
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That there is a $1000 matching grant to help that family bring him home.<br />
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Little does he know how his life is going to change in a matter of weeks.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhueOIvgp1UjPkmUgMVWkOmBZDMWpRagbRE48A7lynzqK_2PdOwa7iNhchBJEp7e4WOcDH2xkzCeshI8c6iORiktcqU73vXKvhtfBR2TXnG6qI53s4UToCBkwMzUdYMP_3gqtqcYlI_ECtr/s1600/screen-shot-2014-07-07-at-2-35-41-pm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhueOIvgp1UjPkmUgMVWkOmBZDMWpRagbRE48A7lynzqK_2PdOwa7iNhchBJEp7e4WOcDH2xkzCeshI8c6iORiktcqU73vXKvhtfBR2TXnG6qI53s4UToCBkwMzUdYMP_3gqtqcYlI_ECtr/s1600/screen-shot-2014-07-07-at-2-35-41-pm.png" height="320" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh that grin!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I honestly cannot see through my tears, so <a href="http://teamstout.wordpress.com/2014/07/07/because-he-cannot-ask-for-himself/">please read here</a>. <a href="http://newcovenantchristian.blogspot.com/2014/07/i-know-this-boy.html?spref=fb">AND HERE. </a><br />
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Please help this little boy by helping his family finance his adoption by donating <a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/1581/brett2601">HERE</a>. All donations are tax deductible.<br />
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His story can have such a happy ending with your help! He will come home with a multitude of difficult behaviors and many medical appointments; the last thing his family needs is to worry about money. Let's gift this boy and his family a fresh start to their new lives.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-60997238510697131082014-07-05T08:56:00.000-07:002014-07-05T08:56:11.088-07:00Blown awayThe past few days have blown me away.<br />
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See, I am a believer until things start to look impossible. Then fear creeps in and my mustard seed-sized faith takes a beating. There is always hope and I cling to it, but if my feeble hand is involved, I bear the blame and the failure if things do not pan out the way I hope.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjbW4ozzTj-FG_C6EW7b4yQQLIKLwivitFSisUVSN8QSjmAdt4YwrbeXKJxUhsvyjyUjy7cEsM9gmvZrmN8lWscDMtZ_QcQvBBqpZPiLSn-xoKTUKezGs-9CviAD0HgV0nP10zLRaotRe/s1600/226767_405152452897641_986429274_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjbW4ozzTj-FG_C6EW7b4yQQLIKLwivitFSisUVSN8QSjmAdt4YwrbeXKJxUhsvyjyUjy7cEsM9gmvZrmN8lWscDMtZ_QcQvBBqpZPiLSn-xoKTUKezGs-9CviAD0HgV0nP10zLRaotRe/s1600/226767_405152452897641_986429274_n.jpg" /></a></div>
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I have committed myself to getting Brett home. In the beginning I had hoped that home would be mine. Every time he got passed over, I had this inkling of hope that it was because God intended him for my home. My son.<br />
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I would be the blessed woman given the gift of this sweet boy. The mama that would get to comfort him and kiss him. Chase the monsters away. Celebrate his victories and rejoice when he realized his potential and worth. To see his face light up as Evan's does when he realizes the power of "Mama, God LOVES me!"<br />
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As I experienced with my own adoption journey. God knew the perfect child for our family. Yes, we thought we knew. Yes, we loved Pasha and longed for him to be ours. Yes, I still mourn this loss and the loss of others I thought would be mine but it is tempered by the wonderful son that is sitting here practicing his letters. I know in my heart that God has had HIS hand covering my family for a while now.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuhTS4AOBHL1bVkM9X5ynoQq5mJEy-B5uujyzxJAkLAWp1AKKC_hGNljk2MZJULuBEQRopFs4Dvjk9fLQCQLo8t0sevfQ3L8XeDqP4FB8vHrNgcqA8bVGg34CpxL5cQOTx0o5OJuo79fX/s1600/20140705_081608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuhTS4AOBHL1bVkM9X5ynoQq5mJEy-B5uujyzxJAkLAWp1AKKC_hGNljk2MZJULuBEQRopFs4Dvjk9fLQCQLo8t0sevfQ3L8XeDqP4FB8vHrNgcqA8bVGg34CpxL5cQOTx0o5OJuo79fX/s1600/20140705_081608.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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We have been tried. We have suffered. We have struggled and yet God has taken care of us. I have tried to control things and God has gently shown my HIS control. Love. Always with love.<br />
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And yet. . .I let doubt creep in.<br />
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When my Frozen fundraiser didn't instantly yield the 6k needed for Brett's freedom, doubt crept in. So I shouted louder. Let my control freak flag wave....<br />
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When weeks passed and his grant was barely moving, despair and doubt met and started having a party in my brain. But I waved my control freak flag harder.. . .desperate to do this.<br />
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This week, they took that party to my heart.<br />
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That's when God had enough.<br />
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He showed me that HE is in control and HE wants Brett in a family. It is not my family but a wonderful family is planned for him. My heart takes comfort in the fact that HE loves Brett even more than I do. HE knows his worth and just how precious he is. I cannot do anything. God CAN.<br />
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HIS plan is more amazing than anything I could have concocted!<br />
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We all have a part to play in this miracle. God is counting on us to have faith. To do our part. To be HIS hands and his feet. To bring his love and joy to all that we meet. Even if it hurts. Even if doubt and despair want to have a party in your head.<br />
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Several people are rallying around Brett, to get his grant up to 14k.<br />
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People are shouting and sharing.<br />
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Many have blogged. Read what they have to say!<br />
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<a href="http://newcovenantchristian.blogspot.com/2014/07/i-know-this-boy.html?spref=fb">"I Know This Boy"</a><br />
<a href="http://covenantbuilders.blogspot.com/2014/07/sweet-brett.html?spref=fb">"Sweet Brett"</a><br />
<a href="http://savinghissparrows.blogspot.com/2014/07/bretts-chance-did-you-know.html">"Brett's Chance"</a><br />
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Many have donated.<br />
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Many are praying.<br />
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This is God's way. Many hands make light the work. We are a community.<br />
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Everyone can do something. Let's continue the work for someone that cannot advocate for himself!<br />
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<a href="http://reecesrainbow.org/1581/brett2601">DONATE HERE! </a><br />
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I am still shouting. Today it is not out of desperation and fear. It is with joy. I am watching a miracle unfold. It is my joy to do my part.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714613209655933701.post-4635332172578063232014-06-19T21:16:00.002-07:002016-01-10T20:41:17.530-08:00Strawberry Fields ForeverI took all three boys strawberry picking today. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Okay, I wrote this two weeks ago but I was convinced that I could never make sense out of this post. . .and nearly trashed it tonight. Instead I decided to simply post it.) </span>Yup. I thought it would be fun. That the boys would LOVE picking the red juicy berries and that Opie would surely sleep quietly in the stroller while we engaged in this activity.<br />
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To anyone with a functioning mind. .. I can hear you laughing.<br />
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The boys DID love being out at the farm though picking berries was apparently low on their to-do list. Opie had no intentions of lowering the ear splitting volume of his cries, let alone sleeping. I furiously worked to keep my sense of humor and a modicum of control over the situation as I quickly tried to fill our bowls with berries. Faster, Becki! FASTER! MUST. FILL. THESE. BOWLS!!!<br />
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I giggled to myself at one point, looking up to the gorgeous blue sky when a smiling face caught my eye. It was the Ukrainian woman (and her husband) that Evan and I encountered at the Social Security Office the week after we arrived home with him. We started talking about Ukraine and Evan's language retention or lack thereof. Another Russian speaking woman overheard us and came over with a bucket of berries, offering to help the boys fill their bowls.<br />
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Needless to say the boys were thrilled! After expressing their exuberant gratitude, they promptly sat down in the dirt and began eating the berries. Mmm...kindness IS delicious!<br />
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Despite the company I brought with me, I find picking berries to be soothing. There is really something very basic and grounded about the activity of picking fruit. So in the midst of the chaos of my kids, picking fruit gave my brain a chance to filter through the myriad of experiences and thoughts that have been banging around in my head.<br />
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As I sorted through the lush green strawberry bushes, taking care to avoid the overripe, mushy berries, ignoring the unripe while searching for the best berries a correlation began forming in my brain.<br />
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I spend a lot of time examining myself and the manner in which I parent. I focus a fair amount of attention to things I would like to change about my parenting, looking at habits and hang ups. In short, I really apply myself to parenting. .in trying to be the best parent that I can be for my children and brutally whip myself when I fail to measure up. I take my job seriously and at times, can be really hard on myself, focusing on my short comings and negative thoughts. Which though not unwarranted might be counterproductive.<br />
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Instead, I need to take a deep breath, square my shoulders and search through the underbrush, avoiding the qualities that are mushy and over done, giving good qualities that are not yet ripe the chance to grow and ripen to their fullest; without rushing them. I am not good at everything. I am simply not. I should focus on the skills, qualities and tendencies that are lush and ripe for the picking.<br />
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The good fruit.<br />
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Fill my basket with those. Take care to leave the undesirable fruit and the unripe fruit behind. This must be a conscious effort.<br />
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Wash that good fruit off, offer that to my kids and enjoy.<br />
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This must be a conscious effort of quality over quantity. If you simply focus on filling that basket, you will include more mushy, rotten and bright green berries than you ever intended. Thus making your children the sorters, trying to figure out the good and the bad. That is not your child's job.<br />
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There is no need to give credence to "I am the way I am, take it or leave it" mentality. Perhaps "good enough" is a cop out. Much good can come from focusing on the positive attributes that you bring to the table. Holding yourself accountable while giving yourself time to grow and ripen. All the while keeping your sense of humor while you forage around to find those qualities. They will be there and they might surprise you.<br />
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If you take the time, do the work...the outcome will be fruitful and delicious. Your children will thank you. Maybe not immediately, or with words. ..but they will thank you!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12017667397608706590noreply@blogger.com0