tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45097041274267031132023-11-16T04:38:53.595-08:00Sunflower EyesA worshipper of God, learning to Shine in the Mundane.Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.comBlogger326125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-86590745328490051852015-06-16T06:00:00.000-07:002015-06-16T06:00:07.629-07:00Brotherly love. Or something like it.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-26760858134331909952015-06-08T15:55:00.000-07:002015-06-08T15:55:00.288-07:00Summah time again....or, the return of the Diary of a P.A. student ('s wife). It's here! Today starts our summer vacation...the longest break we've EVER taken from homeschooling (ok, so I've only been doing this for 4 years. But still.) We had adopted a year-round school model when we moved to AZ, because it's crazy-hot here in the summer and what else are we going to do when it's 115 out? But then there was this year.<br />
This year was....hard, homeschooling-wise. We learned a lot (yes, we as in I AND the kids), we did a lot, we read a lot (a lot a lot) but it was HARD. Especially once January hit. I've made some modifications to the way we do things and weeded things out that aren't essentials (I may be a little ambitious in my homeschool dreams vs. what we can actually handle. Maybe.) and things have smoothed out reasonably in the past couple of months. But Pax and I still need a break. Blythe, she's one who could (and would, if we'd let her) continue on with school every day all year long. But she needs a break, too, whether she knows it or not. And not just any break, but an extended break this time--6 (or maybe even 8!) whole weeks of playing and friends and traveling and swimming and reading and baking...learning, yes, always, but doing it in a much less structured, more creative and interest-led way.<br />
And I.can't.wait.<br />
I have a booklist of my own for the summer; and, yes, plans to do some organizing and cleaning out. Plans to sew and to take my "real" camera with me more places and slow down and enjoy the beauty we stumble across. Plans to spend time doing what the kids want to do, whatever they want to do... plans to write, even (gasp!) to blog; and to spend hours with good friends laughing deeply and talking even more deeply and <i>re-setting.</i><br />
You see, if I've learned anything during this year, it's that I can't do it all. WE can't do it all. So I've been leaning in and seeking my "why" for this season; which has meant weeding out a lot of other things are wrestling with my ambitions and, yes, my pride. In homeschooling, in photography, in worship, in chicken-farming, and in every other part of our life-because this is where we're at. Defining our "why" makes it SO much easier to say "no" to good things that come along, and leave way for the best things. Because Adam is almost done with school, and there are some huge decisions facing him right now. He'll graduate in August, take his boards, and then start <i>practicing medicine. </i>But the question right now is where and how he'll be doing that....so really, this break comes at the perfect time. For reflecting, for digging in, and for solidifying our "why" as we move forward as a family. For being less distracted by my lists and more open to listening.<br />
And I.can't.wait.Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-60664742014155299252015-06-03T15:41:00.004-07:002015-06-03T15:41:49.546-07:00Oh, this kid... My parents came to visit a few weeks ago, to see Blythe's end-of-the-year dance recital and giving Adam & I a chance to go away for a night to celebrate our anniversary-our ninth! We went as a family to drop them off at the airport Monday evening, and per usual one child was crying as we drove away. This time, it was the littlest guy. He started out crying about them leaving, but soon he decided to start throwing a fit about the fact that we were listening to Adventures in Odyssey instead of...anything else. He was throwing a royal fit, which in this house means you don't get what you want...so the other 4 of us were (more or less) happily listening to the story. Finally, 3 miles from home, he started winding down. But he wasn't <i>quite</i> done yet. So, as he whined and whimpered and tried to think of something else to cry about, he suddenly wailed, "<i>Bob Latrielle</i>..." which happens to be the production engineer for Adventures in Odyssey. And Adam and I immediately cracked up.<br />
"<i>Bob Latrielle...."</i><br />
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<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPXpp71UdJB35Ri7Y_E5xnmOB9uh4ld0y4ZEAeepTozEWVThzL5Dw43Y7GDTCsL80Paa14EGPKUK9LrfitWPbvs4RLJHrnBFUr1_SxywBMWijjrvgNsiNvEQ-E0OpQPbXIBzawKIqVAM/s1600/DSC_8777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPXpp71UdJB35Ri7Y_E5xnmOB9uh4ld0y4ZEAeepTozEWVThzL5Dw43Y7GDTCsL80Paa14EGPKUK9LrfitWPbvs4RLJHrnBFUr1_SxywBMWijjrvgNsiNvEQ-E0OpQPbXIBzawKIqVAM/s640/DSC_8777.jpg" width="640" /></a>Oh, this kid. This costume-changing, warrior-loving, word-playing, fierce and cuddly three-year-old...what would we do without you??</i></div>
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Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-20812862114939418152015-04-13T06:48:00.002-07:002015-04-13T06:48:30.189-07:00Morning Thoughts.It's still early-6:29-but our day is speeding along. I've been up for over an hour already, did a little exercise, made a smoothie, sat down to spend some time with The Lord...quail and woodpeckers are playing on our roof. It's foam, so this means those little patterning bird feet are very loud. It's like Wild Kingdom here sometimes...quail,rabbits,lizards galore, chickens, the occasional snake...lots of bugs. I love our little slice of country-in-the-city.<br />
School starts again today, after a nice long spring break full of Easter and birthdays and grandparents and shopping and trips to the air museum and the zoo...a good visit.<br />
Now back to reality.<br />
Reality hasn't been so easy lately, on the homeschool front. When you have a kid who "doesn't want to be taught" it's....well...there are days I want to find the closest school and enroll the kid. But this is where God has landed us for now, and for as long as He says "homeschool", we will. I'm trying a few new things; letting go of getting through a curriculum in a set time and focusing on mastery and a love of learning.<br />
Mostly, though, connecting to my children's hearts. I truly, deeply desire that connection. Because, honestly... homeschool is nothing without the relationship.<br />
And sending my kid to school May take the pressure off of me for a few years; but it won't change my child's heart and make it teachable.<br />
Character....it's vital to teach in these little years. So that when they go off one day-to school or to a job or to college or the mission field or wherever God calls them-their heads aren't just filled with knowledge; their hearts are filled with godly character. Because that matters more in the long run, honestly. Would both be nice? Sure. But if it's a hard day and the choice it between forcing the. Curriculum and working on character-I want to choose character every time.<br />
Theirs and mine.<br />
I'm being taught and refined and re shaped just as much-honestly' probably more! Than they are.<br />
I prayed for more patience one, several years ago....and The Lord told us to homeschool.<br />
Delightfully ironic. Uncomfortable. And beautiful.<br />
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As I journaled last Wednesday, this was my heart's prayer...<br />
"How often I try to fight the battle my way-<br />
without asking my Captain for His orders.<br />
What are they today, lord?"<br />
He responded-<br />
"<i>Keep your feet steady. Raise your heart to me. Serve them, with love, to renew your mind.</i><br />
<i> It's not in the "whats", it's in the "hows" and the "whys". </i><br />
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Amen, Lord. So be it. I raise my Heart to you. Steady my feet, as I serve them today (and tomorrow, and the next day...). Create in me a clean heart, O God. It starts with me. It starts with you. Amen.<br />
<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-24783603904516587792015-04-08T14:35:00.002-07:002015-04-08T14:35:28.159-07:00Little Friends.One of the best things about the Lobmeyers moving to Arizona a year after we did? These two little girlies can stay good friends. Peyton and Blythe, born 2 days apart- they always pick up right where they left off! So thankful for the gift of life-long friendships!<br />
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Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-63660090931743798892015-02-28T13:42:00.001-08:002015-02-28T13:42:41.377-08:00And then he ran away. It was last Tuesday that it happened. Just a regular Tuesday, or so I thought....get up, do the morning routine, go to barre, come home. Ask the kids to finish putting their laundry away. Get ready for some outside playtime before we start school. And then...suddenly, it wasn't a regular Tuesday anymore. My oldest son walked calmly out into the living room and informed me that he was running away. That he didn't want to be part of our family anymore....and that he was taking the most important thing with him. "My Bible!" he stated fiercely, grabbing it from its spot on the shelf.<br />
Blink. <i>Well, at least there's that. Don't laugh! This is serious to him. Deep breath</i>...<br />
"ok....why don't you want to be part of our family anymore?" I asked him. Granted, we've had a difficult 2 months, this oldest child and I; so it wasn't <i>completely</i> out of the blue. Still, I thought we were doing better than "<i>I don't want to be part of this family anymore"</i>!<br />
"You ask me to do too much," he stated. Ahh, yes. The chores. The lovely chores...too many "chiefs" in this house, as my dad used to say. He does NOT like being told what to do, unless it's something<i> he</i> wants to do. Actually, all my children are this way...and I promise you, although he probably does a bit more than some of his friends, because we homeschool and, well, that's the way it goes- he's far from a slave. Just the regular stuff...take out trash a few times a week, make his bed, brush his teeth, help sort and put away laundry or unload the dishwasher; help set the table, change the chicks' water in the mornings (oh, we got chicks!)....regular kid stuff.<br />
"We<i> do</i> ask you to do things, because you're part of this family. And families help each other out. Do you think your friends don't have to help their families?"<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
"Is there something I can do to help make your chores more fun?"<br />
"No. I'm running away from home. I might change my mind and come back, or I might not,"<br />
"I would sure miss you a lot if you decided to leave. So would Daddy. We love you very much."<br />
"I'm leaving."<br />
exit eldest child.<br />
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At this point I wasn't really sure what to do, to be honest. I realized I'd just have to let this play out....the kid is very strong willed and telling him he <i>couldn't </i>go or getting angry with him would just exacerbate the situation. And then he might <i>actually</i> run away. So I didn't say anything.<br />
And he packed his suitcase and backpack, took a blanket, asked me for some food (which I didn't give him. I told him that I didn't want him to leave, so I wasn't going to help him with that part. But that he was free to take his wallet with him. With the allowance in it he'd earned from doing above chores...ironic, no?)<br />
About this time his little sister and brother came out to the kitchen and saw what was going on. Blasie opened the suitcase because he thought Pax was taking all the cars with him (that's when I saw he'd packed a full change of clothes-including underwear and socks-on top of his Bible. Parenting WIN!!) Blythe, on the other hand, started to cry.<br />
And then he walked out the door.<br />
And she sobbed.<br />
I held her in my arms as she sobbed that she didn't <i>WANT</i> Pax to leave, that she <i>LOVED</i> him and <i>WOULD MISS HIM SO MUCH; </i>and although I reassured her I was pretty sure he'd be back, I also encouraged her to go tell him what she had told me. Because honestly, I wasn't entirely sure if he would be back or not.<br />
"Maybe it'll change his mind," I suggested.<br />
So she ran out the door.<br />
I followed, of course-I did have a seven-year-old who'd just ran away from home; and although I wasn't 100% on the protocol, I knew I needed to at least see what happened next. And, you know, <i>where he'd gone. </i>Which was down the street, almost to the neighbor's at this point (it's quite a ways-we have big lots in our neighborhood). My little daughter ran, legs and arms pumping, after her brother.<br />
"PAX!! PAAAAX!!! (she caught up to him and stopped-he slowly turned around. Seriously, people. I felt like I was in a tv drama.) Pax (sobbing), I LOVE you. I don't WANT you to leave!! EVER!!"<br />
Pax looked down at her....and then, even so slowly, wrapped his arms around her. It was so sweet... I don't know what else was said at that point; they were too far away to hear. But they turned around and headed for home, together.<br />
When he finally reached me at the end of our drive way, I just put my arm out and gave him a big hug. He told me he'd changed his mind, and that he wouldn't leave again, ever. I told him he might want to someday, for college or something, and that was ok- but that I was very happy he'd decided to be part of our family. And then he asked me to carry his suitcase inside...to which his 35-pound little sister chimed in "I'll carry it!", even though I'm pretty sure it weighed almost as much as she does.<br />
It gave me a lot to think about that day and the next, this running away from home stuff. And it turned out that I wasn't the only one it caused to think deeply. After a picnic lunch in the living room, Blythe started to cry again-because when she thought about Pax walking out the door, "it just hurts my heart SO much and I don't want to feel that way!!". This from the passionate little girlie who told me, just last week, that she felt "like I don't have any room for loving Pax in my heart. I don't even WANT to!". She's passionately emotional, that one. But what it taught her-taught BOTH of them, really-is just how much she truly does love her big brother. And just how devastated she'd be if he wasn't in her life....which is a very, very good lesson to learn, indeed. Not always are we given second chances to realize how much we would miss someone if they were gone. Not always do we get to chance from one day to the next and decide to show them more love-at least not without some kind of cataclysmic event. I'm so very thankful for that little life lesson for my kids-and for me, as Adam and I are constantly trying to know our kids well and love them in their differences. For the kid who wants life to be one giant party, this gets a bit tricky when it comes to things like work ethic and chores. But we'll get there. Because we're a family, and we help each other out...in more ways than one.Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-43519726122516715902015-01-27T13:51:00.001-08:002015-01-27T13:51:35.310-08:00Blythe is five!It's ridiculous and sad and sad some more that I haven't posted <i>ANYTHING</i> since November. It's almost February, people. This is borderline depressing. I love to write and in the past this blog has been so cathartic, as well as just plain <i>FUN</i> as a place to document all our silly (and serious) little family stories...so. This year, I've re-dedicated myself to writing here once a week. A story, a short post with photos, a long, drawn-out digging-into-my-soul...this place has been and will always be first and foremost for me, my family, and the friends who want to keep up with us. And I'm bummed I let "busy" get in the way of that. So, now....<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"> Blythe is Five!</span></i><br />
(please pardon the watermarks on the photos-I'm testing out some new software before I buy it ;)<br />
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Clockwise from Center: B at 2 months, 1 year old, 3 years old (her first Daddy-Daughter dance!), 2 years old (on her first trip to Paris-I miss those sweet, crazy curls!!), 4 and happy in a mud puddle, and FIVE!<br />
We celebrated her birthday 2 days early, on the 17th of January, with a morning "tea" party. True to her nature, she wanted to be sure every detail was just as she'd envisioned it; so we had planned every detail together on a mama-daughter date in Durango over New Year's (thank you, Pinterest). She wanted a Frozen-themed winter tea party, complete with petite fours... and it was so much fun to bring that to life! I'd never done a party like this before, but my parents were in town and Grammy was, of course, a huge help.<br />
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We hunted in our backyard for branches and pine cones and then proceeded to cover them with glitter...messy, but fun! Good thing it's nice enough here in January to do the glittering outside-my marriage may not have survived that much glitter exploding all over our house :). We (I) also strung cotton balls onto thread and hung them up as "snowflakes" falling; and baked teeny Russian teacakes (which my kids call Snowballs). I made a delicious white cake, half of which we filled with homemade lemon curd (again, thank you Arizona winter/citrus season!) and half which we filled with Nutella, before cutting them up into small rectangles and drenching them with frosting. Maybe not the prettiest, but they sure tasted good!<br />
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We'd asked the girls to come in "fancy dress", and then Grammy and I helped the little girlies make Fascinators one by one with tulle, ribbon, fake flowers, and gems on headbands while Adam led the rest of the gang is assorted Olaf-themed games. They had a blast and it worked out perfectly! After games, they all put on their fascinators and sat down to "tea" (peppermint hot cocoa). The cutest part was that as soon as those bouncy girls sat down at the elegantly-set table- they all got quiet. And showed beautiful manners. They knew it was special! Pax, with a vest and tie on, served the tea sandwiches (cut in crown and snowflake shapes), and everyone feasted. It was so much fun! Our first "kid party" was an easy, stress-free success. And our little girlie was thrilled beyond belief!<br />
<i>Blythe Linn, Daddy and I love the vibrant, fancy, twirly, graceful girlieness you bring to our family. Your passionate heart and strong will will carry your small-but-mighty body far in life! We love seeing who God has made you to be continue to develop each year; and helping you pursue the things you love is a joy to us. We pray you would never forget who created you the way you are, or how very much you are loved-by God first of all, and also by us. I had so much fun planning and creating this party with you, B.B. Doll!</i>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-78045457781967975582014-11-05T19:41:00.004-08:002014-11-05T19:41:44.916-08:00And then, God spoke to me through a cactus. Or: how He makes all things new. One of our giant saguaros out front toppled over and crashed into our house a few weeks ago. The night of October 20th, to be precise. Our house is fine; we have a foam roof and although it may not be pretty it's apparently good at keeping cactus out. We were surprised to say the least, and I have to admit I was a little bummed. I know, it's a cactus. But those ancient "trees" of the desert are beautiful in their sky-high majesty! However-it was just a cactus, and considering the news we got from a friend of ours earlier that same day...perspective.<br />
Then came the next morning. The house was still quiet and dark; Adam was on a run and all three kiddos were asleep. I walked out to snap a few photos to show our families the danger of living in the desert, and, oh, maybe for instagram because how often does a giant cactus fall in your yard and magnificently smash a prickly pear so that it blows all over the place? It was pretty amazing. And beautiful, in the early morning light. And as I walked back into my kitchen to start making my morning smoothie, I started crying.<br />
<i>Seriously?</i>!? <i>I'm crying over a cactus. What the heck is wrong with me?!? </i>was my subconscious thought.<br />
But from inside, I heard a very familiar still voice....<br />
<i>It's not about the cactus. </i><br />
And in that moment everything crystallized and I <i>got it.</i><br />
As I stood there and the <i>knowing </i>washed over me, the tears really started to roll and I had to put the blender down and just hold onto the counter and sob....because the Lord had just spoken beautiful truth to me <i>through a cactus</i> and even though my heart was breaking for our friends that day, I couldn't help but see the awe-struck majesty of a Lord who would speak to me through a cactus. (And the ridiculousness of it. I could see that too.)<br />
You see, the day before a good friend of mine texted me while I was out running errands sans-kids. The gist of it was that my 28-weeks pregnant friend realized she hadn't felt baby move in a day or so, and was going to the midwives to get checked. She asked for prayer, and you can bet I prayed all thorough that hour-long barre class.<br />
When I got out I had a text saying there had been no heartbeat detectable with the Doppler, and she was headed to the hospital for ultrasound confirmation. By 5 that night we found out that yes, she had lost the baby. Adam and I, we're not strangers to death or grief and really, <i>who in this world is?</i> So our hearts broke for our friends and the rest of the night was spent talking, praying, reaching out to them, praying...talking.<br />
<i>Not even a sparrow falls but that He knows it.</i><br />
I wish I could describe to you in less than 55,000 words what happened the rest of that week and even into the next...the grief and the sadness, but more so the <i>holiness</i> of it all. The night we lived through in just a fraction of what <i>they</i> lived through, waiting to hear the news that she'd delivered their small daughter. That they'd finally met tiny, still Mercy. The updates of moments with her throughout that one day with her; of the only memories they would make with their small daughter in their arms. Painting tiny nails pink, taking hand and footprints, holding close to their hearts the little one whose heart beat no more. But I can't, except to tell you what my friend said in one of her texts- that it was the most beautifully sacred day they'd ever had.<br />
<i> Beautifully sacred</i>. Holding their stillborn daughter...no anger, never anger in that day; although there was-is- sadness. Mostly there was just an overwhelming sense of the presence of the Lord pervading it all and making beauty from their ashes<i>.</i> Just as the light made beautiful the wreak of the cactus in our front yard that morning.<br />
<i>I knew all about it, and I know all about Mercy. I am not a god of cruelty, of mistakes, of senseless pain.</i><br />
<i>Not even a sparrow falls but that I know it....</i><br />
And this is what I saw: He has conquered death. Not a new thought, really. It wasn't part of the original plan, death; it wasn't meant to be this way. It came in with sin. <i>This is why death is so weird and just....heavy. </i>I hate death, in a way. I'm not afraid of it, not angry with it...I just plain hate that this is what humanity has brought upon ourselves with our choices to sin. The traditions surrounding death, the rituals...it's all to try to understand, to say goodbye, to hold on longer.<br />
<i>But He has conquered death</i>.<br />
I knew this, of course. When Erica died and then again with Celine the Lord carried us through those valleys with so many, many beautiful touches of His presence, revelations of Himself, His goodness, His peace...even in the midst of so much grief. But it took me being on the outside and watching someone else going through the valley and experiencing so many of the same things to <i>really get it</i>. You see, as Christians who profess Christ is the only Son of God; that He died for us and thus paid for our sins; as we gladly repent and admit we can't do it on our own, be good enough, try hard enough to get to heaven we know He's conquered death to make the Way for us. But this I didn't fully realize until that week....<i> </i><br />
<i>His death on the cross and conquering of the grave did not simply make the way to heaven for us. It also gave Him the power to come alongside us in our grief in a new way. In the most beautifully holy, sacred way it enabled Him to bridge the solitude of our grief, of death, and create Beauty from Ashes. ALL of the Ashes. ANYONE'S Ashes. </i> He does, and He will, always, because of His love for us-- as well as for His glory-- and so He carrys us through the places we once had to trod alone. By His death, He earned that right.<br />
<i>Not even a sparrow falls but that He knows it.</i><br />
Not even a cactus falls but that He's there to catch the healing tears of grief.<br />
And so He continues to make beauty of the ashes.<i> </i> <br />
<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-45061978642452744832014-10-10T19:20:00.002-07:002014-10-10T19:20:30.523-07:00Seven.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj6SWWPQkKtcJSTOeFbC2SYP9guZyuIDLoN2o-QvGdLHMiFVCXAqYcYP3Z0j-sZgi34AQySRLOqGnuWX8c_HcHNeIzNhrdSVxkT-kVhInkwYybKnutQH98lt8c80OAJL2-3bWwT8jw3Jk/s1600/_DSC0054.jpg" 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/AVvXsEjj6SWWPQkKtcJSTOeFbC2SYP9guZyuIDLoN2o-QvGdLHMiFVCXAqYcYP3Z0j-sZgi34AQySRLOqGnuWX8c_HcHNeIzNhrdSVxkT-kVhInkwYybKnutQH98lt8c80OAJL2-3bWwT8jw3Jk/s1600/_DSC0054.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Three and lovin' life...with teeny B :)</i></td></tr>
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Somehow, my Small Son<br />
went from 3 to 7 in a blink of an eye.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This is from the crazy rain a few weeks ago...my boys LOVE mud.</i></td></tr>
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Seriously, that's what it feels like. The past three years (THREE!!) since we moved to The Valley have literally <i>flown </i>by. Perhaps that has something to do with adding another baby to the family...and all the sleeplessness that goes along with it. For me, at least, that makes the days long but the years short. So, that accounts for the first year. And then Adam started school-- which has been it's own crazy time-warp. And so, here we are, October of 2014-with a SEVEN YEAR OLD. Who, by the way, had "the best birthday EVER!!" <i>And now, a break for a stroll down memory lane... </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtWHbnTDKshdrX4dcBNfnSMCxemC_aX33x0fXYpnKIB8BjA3HOa9_3lstXJQXFyqm3rHUlGKx1d3EZ-tmZOie-0DD2HkiASLE7_5GZdj3ecbi8hK9wzWhujkcdPVsDqk8QYADzEzaEJE/s1600/talking+to+mama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtWHbnTDKshdrX4dcBNfnSMCxemC_aX33x0fXYpnKIB8BjA3HOa9_3lstXJQXFyqm3rHUlGKx1d3EZ-tmZOie-0DD2HkiASLE7_5GZdj3ecbi8hK9wzWhujkcdPVsDqk8QYADzEzaEJE/s1600/talking+to+mama.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a>This is from 2 days before my due date; 4 days before Pax was born. We were the youth pastors at our church at the time and we were headed to a high school football game. It was very, very uncomfortable to sit on those bleachers if I remember correctly. (<i>side note: for some reason, this picture always reminds me of a stuffed turkey...I carried him SO far back!) </i>And then- there he was! One month old.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>6 months old</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>13 months old...I miss those teeny chocolate Chucks!!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyUplnB3lBCVDwvuvYKxySK3QJaWePWYHNu4Q_KFiR5E_cZF0Tv-MKYC7DoQLiBUdgrAdtlL2h6wyU1u22gBxXVm8QAbYMwWJdyjlWmqMPJ0FHlnyXM_YgfzfjwYSyDnCG0zO6qyKY_vM/s1600/Adam+and+pax--redfeathers+020.jpg" 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/AVvXsEgyUplnB3lBCVDwvuvYKxySK3QJaWePWYHNu4Q_KFiR5E_cZF0Tv-MKYC7DoQLiBUdgrAdtlL2h6wyU1u22gBxXVm8QAbYMwWJdyjlWmqMPJ0FHlnyXM_YgfzfjwYSyDnCG0zO6qyKY_vM/s1600/Adam+and+pax--redfeathers+020.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This is from a little photo shoot I did with Adam and Pax right before the Pax-boy turned two. Love it still.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Four years old. Our first Thanksgiving in Arizona!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2bAyVjddFBJZ2mxS_qOqDZXkJDKYCtvAZ2EAQjueV4FjdL65B1pqgAt3syNeZI6OZjUseROgrXiJHBp0PLrsf6s8JHeyeMLdxfxpqTarLeEmEC8awBqTAOtsCwA4lIKntcBEBNFz1F4s/s1600/DSC_0308.jpg" 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/AVvXsEh2bAyVjddFBJZ2mxS_qOqDZXkJDKYCtvAZ2EAQjueV4FjdL65B1pqgAt3syNeZI6OZjUseROgrXiJHBp0PLrsf6s8JHeyeMLdxfxpqTarLeEmEC8awBqTAOtsCwA4lIKntcBEBNFz1F4s/s1600/DSC_0308.jpg" height="640" width="424" /></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>His smile is the best! Just shy of five.</i></td></tr>
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<i> Six! The night he lost his first tooth...it got knocked out by another boy during games at Awanas. Seems about right....</i><br />
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<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9OM3pvRZ9u2kHrUZGaOTOeKrnyh3sFoWTavfvpnksCFxyAL2tnVkgRJ1wXSfpJ0XG6b_JF3ifqy8aD8kfNi7egAa7lsnoBtelq9MBOnjPgRGc4j-dcPBHqoZQaIFZGWA-_QKPlahceU/s1600/IMG_3764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9OM3pvRZ9u2kHrUZGaOTOeKrnyh3sFoWTavfvpnksCFxyAL2tnVkgRJ1wXSfpJ0XG6b_JF3ifqy8aD8kfNi7egAa7lsnoBtelq9MBOnjPgRGc4j-dcPBHqoZQaIFZGWA-_QKPlahceU/s1600/IMG_3764.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></i></div>
<i> ....aaaand....seven. Early-early morning breakfast date with Daddy. </i><br />
oh, my Small Son...there is NO one quite like you. Your joy, your warrior-ness, your protectiveness of your siblings, your love of people (to the point of me having to ask you<i> </i>just a few weeks ago <i>not to tell every.single.mother </i>you met at barre3 our address<i> just in case</i> they wanted to drop by and play...) and of books; your<i> </i>silliness, the way you're the king of goofy faces and weird, made-up knock knock jokes. Gifts are a major love language for you-to get, yes, but also to give. You bring Daddy and I special "snacks", thoughtfully prepared, on the weekends during quite time-and there's always a little surprise included. It's so much fun-and so thoughtfully sweet, too. But my favorite thing is the way you make sure we have something with us "to remember you by" or to protect us when Daddy or I leave the house without you. A clone trooper, C3PO, a truck, a lego lightsaber....whatever you think would protect us the best that day, you make sure it's tucked in our hands before we walk out the door! You have absolutely NO personal space. And you've officially made me the mother of "that kid" in the best of ways-the kid people remember because you stand out and make them laugh. I can't tell you the number of times people at church have said to me, "Oh, you're PAX'S mom!" or "Oh, we know who <i>your</i> kid is!" or "I have to tell you what Pax did today in church...." it makes you live in a state of constant fear/hilarity as a parent. And while it's not always a cake-walk parenting a strong-willed kiddo; you're always up for an adventure. <i>Which is what this life is, Pax-boy</i>...a beautiful, crazy, sometimes-confusing adventure that we're on together-for now. I know someday you'll wave goodbye and head out bravely on your own. And your Daddy and I pray every day for the wisdom and grace to prepare you for that time, to become the young man God is making you to be. <i>I know you'll do well.</i> But for now....I'm glad you still reach for my hand in the parking lot when we're alone; that you still want to snuggle up next to me and have me read to you, even though you can read to yourself...and that you always, always want just a <i>few more minutes</i> of snuggling at night.I'll take that as long as it lasts.<br />
We love you so much, Petey Petey. You're my favorite Big Kid--and you always, always will be. <br />
<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-79694324020666414862014-09-28T20:17:00.003-07:002014-10-03T22:23:17.275-07:00Journey to Barre3: Or, (part of) the reason I'm such a fan. *<i>disclaimer* this is a looong post about why I'm so crazy about barre3...it's worth the read. And there's a link to a freebie at the end! but it IS long!!</i><br />
<br />
A beautiful, early-spring day in the Tuileries Garden of Paris doesn't seem like a place one would run into barre3- at least, not at first glance. But that's where it started, none the less. That day, I laced up my running shoes and headed out across Rue di Rivoli with my husband and three littles to the park, which was our afternoon ritual. Everyone else in Paris-local or otherwise- had the same idea. It was one of the first really warm, sunshiny afternoons in Paris that spring; so the park was filled with people walking, sitting, watching, sipping, talking. A crew was setting up for some sort of fancy dinner/fashion show thing on one side of the park; on the other, the playground was filled with children enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. There was a line for the in-ground trampolines (my kids' favorite attraction) and humming conversations filled in the air, along with some accordion music from the little cafe. We strolled to the playground and I told my husband I'd be back in a bit; then I walked to the perimeter of the park and began to jog. I'd decided it was time to shed the last 15 pounds of baby weight I still carried after the birth of our third child, newly one and weaned while we were in Paris. The Gardens would provide the perfect motivation to start running again. At least, so I thought.<br />
It sounded so incredibly romantic to me-running through the Tuileries. And it was, for the first 200 yards. Then it very quickly turned into one of the most embarrassing moments of my life as my three-pregnancies-in-4-years bladder gave way...and not just a little leak, either. I was prepared for that. But oh, no... by the time I was halfway across the park, I had fully peed my pants. I could practically hear the Parisians around me sipping their espressos and sneering at the obviously-American girl who <i>was peeing her pants in the Tuileries Garden</i>.<i> </i>This? This was not romantic AT ALL. I quickly stopped running, my face burning. Walked a bit. Then squeezed things a bit and attempted to jog-hobble back to the playground as quickly as possible...which wasn't very quickly. I grabbed an errant sweater and wrapped it around my waist, feeling all the time a mix of embarrassment and a sense of betrayal from my own body.<i> That was it,</i> I decided. <i>No more running for me. Ever, Ever again. </i>I'd have to find something else. Or just resign myself to being un-fit forever.<br />
<i> Of course</i> I had known things wouldn't be quite the same after having three babies in relatively quick succession. I'd make it to 18 months postpartum and-poof!-pregnant again! But I'd never thought my body would feel so <i>old</i> after having babies. By the time my third was born, my joints felt so out-of-wack and fragile that even the thought of jumping or running to chase my littles made me wince. I felt as if I'd fall apart at the slightest jolt, which was not the kind of mother I wanted to be. I've always enjoyed being active, and I love playing with my kids. I wasn't unhealthy in other ways, necessarily; we ate fairly well, mostly whole foods, homemade bread, very little processed food and if I was a little too addicted to my morning coffee-well, that was only because of the lack of sleep (I thought). I just felt like I couldn't keep up. And at 29 years old, I didn't like it. I wanted to be able to do what I wanted to physically without pain, or a migraine. But now-Well, that afternoon I felt more than a little hopeless, since it was <i>quite</i> clear there was no possibility of falling back on my old standby of running, or even cross-fit. Dance classes aren't exactly convenient with three littles in tow; and even swimming ended up giving me a migraine because everything was misaligned. My back and core were not strong enough to hold my spine in the right position. Nursing, carrying babies and toddlers and giant diapers bags-and everything else that comes along with littles-it all exacerbated the problem.<br />
<br />
<i>Enter barre.</i><br />
<br />
It was a day or two later that I got a Groupon offer in my inbox for a 5-pack to a barre studio near me. I talked to Adam about it, instinctively knowing I'd love the combo of barre work and pilates because of my dancing days. And he wholly supported me trying it out-he knew my love of dance, my frustration with my current physical health, and the importance of being able to move and be healthy. I bought a 5<i>-</i>pack. And had my mom and husband each gift me one, too. After<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=4509704127426703113#editor/target=post;postID=314877039583151146;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=38;src=postname" target="_blank"> our trip was cut short </a>and we ended up back in the Valley, I was more ready than ever to try out the workout. I needed the physical stress-relief the exercise would bring, as well as the mental clarity. Adam was starting P.A. school on top of everything else, and I looked forward to my first Saturday class with anticipation-and a touch of anxiousness.<br />
It turned out that I needn't have worried. After the first class, I was hooked--and my only concern was that I had just enough classes to get though the summer, one a week, since there was no way I could afford the studio's regular prices on a grad-student-with-a-family budget. What would I do when they ran out? I committed to just enjoying the time I had and not worrying about it. Maybe my body would be ready to try running again at that point, I thought. I looked forward to Saturdays and each week's class refreshed me and left me feeling stronger and more flexible; every week I could feel my body begin-just a teeny bit-to recover its old fitness. But I did dread-just a bit- the end of summer and the end, so I thought, of my barre-days.<br />
and then.<br />
In August, just as I was coming to the end of my 15 classes, I began to see posts on Facebook from a friend of mine about something called Barre3. She, it seemed, had a friend who was opening a studio in California and she'd gone for the opening. The photos intrigued me as I'd fallen in love with barre at this point, and this studio looked so different from the one I was going to. It looked warm and light and they all looked like they were having so much (sweaty) fun! One day, she posted about Barre3 online, mentioning online workouts-and I knew I'd found my answer. Here was a way to keep practicing barre, a way to maybe-just maybe-continue to regain some fitness. So I signed up. $15 a month was something we could afford. And I LOVED the variety of workouts and time lengths because it seemed so doable for a busy mom. At this point, I just wanted to be able to play with and chase my kids without pain; maybe lose some weight. I didn't have a lot more goals than that.<br />
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I've never looked back. Each month, each <i>week </i>I began to feel small, significant changes in my body. I didn't step on the scale too often, because I was more concerned with how my body <i>felt, </i>but I could feel my clothes getting looser. I loved Barre3 even more than the studio I'd been going to because the blend of Yoga, ballet, and pilates resonated with my body. The low-impact cardio was a nice addition for someone who has grown up involved with athletics; getting my heartrate up and pushing myself deeper was a challenge I loved taking. I didn't even have a core ball at this point; I used a pillow when needed and was still impressed with the differences in my core strength. My hip pain left, too. I'd squeeze in 30 or 40 or 10 minutes early in the morning or at rest time, after homeschooling my oldest. Often, my two youngest would come in in the mornings and the little one would crawl all over me as I finished my core work (not and easy task...). My 4 year old daughter would imitate the more ballet-esq moves, being crazy-enamored with dance herself. So when that same friend told me she was going to open up the first Barre3 studio in the Phoenix area, I could not have been more excited! I'm sure I was slightly obnoxious to poor Karie; each week when I saw her I'd ask her about how everything was progressing, eager for news of the opening. And when she opened up her home for "Barre3 underground" as she worked toward her certification, she was kind enough to include me on the friends and family list. This-<i>this</i> was wonderful!! So very exciting, my first "real" studio class! It was fun. And HARD. And--holy moly--what that core ball did for my core work was nuts. I couldn't WAIT to come back again.<br />
I went as often as I could to Karie's house for classes beginning in March; usually once or maybe twice a week, if I could get a spot in her very popular underground. I took my kiddos with me every time, and every time we <i>all </i>were warmly welcomed. Soon, my now-two-year-old would ask if we were going to "Kawie's house" for "ba-fwee" every time we got in the car. The kids enjoyed playing as much as I enjoyed exercising, and the hour-long studio classes skyrocketed my results. Getting to workout with friends just fed this extrovert's motivation; and my energy was higher than it had been in a long time. I'd lost pounds and even more inches. I could now jump on the trampoline (for a short time) with my kids, or race my son across the driveway and back. One beautiful Saturday afternoon at the park, we had a rollicking game of family tag all over the play equipment, up and down and around. I ran and chased and jumped and laughed along with my husband and the bigs; and I'll never forget how my husband laughed with joy to see me <i>able</i> and <i>wanting</i> to play like that again. I was starting to feel "normal" again.<br />
In May, I jumped at the chance to join the Barre3 Spring Challenge, and it was enormously beneficial to me. I'd already slowly been re-vamping the way our whole family ate, due to stomach issues I'd been having since my youngest was born as well as for the betterment of all my family. Now I committed to a month of whole foods only-no coffee, no sugar, no refined grains. The company's core value of balance in life has been a catchword for my husband and I in this whole P.A. school journey; and I loved the care encouraged to all aspects to my life, not just to my fitness or nutrition. I also got my very own bright-orange core ball, which came along with the challenge and allowed me to increase my at-home practice. And streaming the online seminars each week with founder Sadie Lincoln and functional nutritionist Andrea Nakayama was educational and encouraging.<br />
By the end of that month, I was completely off my morning cup of coffee (except occasionally, because I do love my coffee!!) and enjoying a cup of tea instead. My energy was higher than it'd been in several years; and I felt like my old self. As a bonus, I'd lost even more inches, and a few more pounds- now down about 10 lbs. from the last spring. Because of the muscle I'd gained and the inches I'd lost, most people thought it was much more than that. But my favorite part? I felt for the first time that my body was really, truly, totally rehabbed from my three babies. I could-and did-do whatever I wanted to do physically. I hadn't had a migraine in months, because my core was now strong enough to hold my spine in proper alignment. Even my ages-old chronic runner's knee leftover from high school cross-country days was beginning to feel better more days than it hurt me, which was a BIG deal. That's when I knew that I wanted more than just to <i>practice</i> barre3-I wanted to <i>be a part</i> of this organization in any way I could be. I met with Karie and asked if I could do childcare part-time (because every barre3 studio offers childcare) in exchange for classes. Even though I've dreamed some about the possibility of becoming an instructor one day and being able to offer the same support and encouragement to others I've found at Barre3, I knew that this was the involvement level we could handle right now with Adam still in the middle of his program. Karie willingly agreed, knowing how I love the company and the workouts; and just like that I've gotten to be a small part of the awesome new North Scottsdale studio. A few weeks ago I even began to float the idea of running again once in awhile to my husband, maybe training for a thanksgiving 5k, not entirely sure how it would go but knowing my body finally felt willing to try again.<br />
So, this morning, I finally suggested we go for a family jog.<br />
I laced up my running shoes and headed out with my husband and three littles on the first cool-ish morning we've had here in Scottsdale since early last spring. Adam pushed the double jogger with the two littles-now 2 and 4-in it, while our almost-7-year-old rode ahead on his mostly outgrown two-wheeler. The light was beautiful. My husband made some smart remark about the fact that we both had on the exact same shade of bright-blue pants on as our double stroller; I laughed--and began to run.<br />
I mentally help my breath at first, taking stock of each muscle and body part; but everything felt good. In fact, except for some tightness in that old runner's knee, everything felt really great. It was true-Barre3 had actually, totally helped me to rehab my body AND helped me maintain (or maybe even increase!) my cardiovascular strength. Now, I didn't run for 5 miles. And I didn't plan to, as this was just a trial run (quite literally). But I ran the whole way, felt strong and healthy--<br />
<i>and I didn't pee myself once</i>.<br />
Thanks for helping me finally get here, Barre3. Sadie Lincoln--if you ever read this--I'm so thankful that the workout you created to rehab your<i> own</i> body has spread like wildfire and has now helped me rehab <i>mine</i>. And I'm so thankful that I get to be a part-even a small part-of the barre3 community. Thank you for sharing this gift with all of us. <br />
<br />
And now: I'm not so into selfies. Honestly, I feel weird even posting these...because it's about SO much more than just weight. So much more has changed than just what you can see on the outside. But, I also know before and after pics can be nice...just to actually see what HAS changed on the outside. So, here's a few of mine:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgyfSNyhKHQHLRds9LS9XCG5rYAGP13UZytnPeVtseyQQGWbtP_IIA34Vwi23m2X-0xVsyBoysw6-jVPJMXh1kHD-i5Mpao1dRTy0BXvHuz2neUmhtzcRg-_dczp7mQPL-tafZkDMoPg/s1600/DSC_0007.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before: Jan. 2013 (9 months post-baby)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhukGL2kP_I18EwEKmgmey_48GRJhK7ZeQARtYjEoRFrnZwH7tdcX7H6243wNslxIArbDUTZE5Zh3y3bCBcpZzW8TGa_oM5YvtnT_fh_HOBggj1tWWwp6VpW8TMVbg9jy1DPS2dbbh9NIs/s1600/IMG_2537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhukGL2kP_I18EwEKmgmey_48GRJhK7ZeQARtYjEoRFrnZwH7tdcX7H6243wNslxIArbDUTZE5Zh3y3bCBcpZzW8TGa_oM5YvtnT_fh_HOBggj1tWWwp6VpW8TMVbg9jy1DPS2dbbh9NIs/s1600/IMG_2537.jpg" height="320" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4 months into Barre3, 7months into barre: Dec. 2013</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Zm1EgdhQnrne9ZJdCMjcmrO9WG0W059fLYMoWFHTR8uGZqHqlGg3igMzgDHbI0-K5WCZH91QTvrBmJ6zhm-2zn1x7wgpNd6YUOOOtdHRllOVp6-EcBBLpza37__pA67JYkzokruYgzQ/s1600/DSC_0072.JPG" 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/AVvXsEh5Zm1EgdhQnrne9ZJdCMjcmrO9WG0W059fLYMoWFHTR8uGZqHqlGg3igMzgDHbI0-K5WCZH91QTvrBmJ6zhm-2zn1x7wgpNd6YUOOOtdHRllOVp6-EcBBLpza37__pA67JYkzokruYgzQ/s1600/DSC_0072.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before: Christmas 201<i>2</i> (8 months post-baby)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1oJFEBZk5Nz_jW_JM_R79d7lnvMh19TLI8V4jOXGwq16XZi3OoQuEJopIihHs2TKbNVSfTZ6tF2uCFTakqNCSTHmmHQdEiL58PwhdPydXVZm4_ixKymkNp6mDW0N2yKOa35JnuZmbX8A/s1600/IMG_3601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1oJFEBZk5Nz_jW_JM_R79d7lnvMh19TLI8V4jOXGwq16XZi3OoQuEJopIihHs2TKbNVSfTZ6tF2uCFTakqNCSTHmmHQdEiL58PwhdPydXVZm4_ixKymkNp6mDW0N2yKOa35JnuZmbX8A/s1600/IMG_3601.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> July 2014</i></td></tr>
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<i>my friends, now it's your turn....Robyn over at Real Food Whole Life (click that for the link!) is starting a 28 to Great challenge tomorrow and inviting everyone along for the ride! As an incentive, she also has a code for 30 days FREE online access to Barre3. That gives you access to the workouts, the recipes, and all the other good-ness barre3 online has to offer. If you've been seeing me post (and post and post) about this for the past year and ever thought about trying it out-here's a risk-free way to get started! You won't regret it. Trust me.</i><br />
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<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-59969619593656979172014-09-10T15:09:00.000-07:002014-09-10T15:09:16.451-07:00Summah time.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4rMcq8SE1x78FaMjaY8Xygk9eh10PKEW-XVacsQ2JLuDrEZ5cJOcw1HHoEMn6JUQ-kUI-vN4D8gpBEzgZOWz2tG0hN7291DporAxA3sbW1AhG96HE2UL2_WKbRGquVDpmWi9uDqgzzeU/s1600/DSC_2612.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/AVvXsEi4rMcq8SE1x78FaMjaY8Xygk9eh10PKEW-XVacsQ2JLuDrEZ5cJOcw1HHoEMn6JUQ-kUI-vN4D8gpBEzgZOWz2tG0hN7291DporAxA3sbW1AhG96HE2UL2_WKbRGquVDpmWi9uDqgzzeU/s1600/DSC_2612.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a>So, here we are: four weeks into Adam's first round of clinicals. Honestly, I've no idea how this happened...our lives keep speeding up without asking my permission and, most days, I'm amazed that it's already 4pm when I look at the clock! So, I'm playing catch-up. I had excellent intentions of catching up on blogging and 84,000 other things while we were on our 3-week vacation in Colorado; instead, I took naps almost every day and spent time with the people I love most. It was much needed, and very very fun....but not actually restful at all, in hindsight.<br />
We started out with a great little camping trip, just the five of us, up at Woods Canyon Lake. Our day and night were full of capture the flag in the woods, playing in the lake (and mama almost falling asleep by the lake..due to Dramamine), and reading around the campfire at night (after s'mores, of course). The next day we headed down the mountains mid-morning, on our way to Durango...and our car blew up about 40 miles outside of Gallup, NM. Seriously, <i>what</i> is it about our cars and driving to Durango?? The cool part? We ended up right in front of a home belonging to a neat little old couple-who happened to be Christians. The little old man brought us water, and they ended up taking the littles and I into town when the tow-truck driver (whom dispatch<i> assured</i> us would have space for all of us)-well-didn't. Instead, Pax got to ride up front with Adam in the front of the tow-truck and had an absolutely marvelous time!<br />
To make a long story short, 3 tow-trucks, a McDonald's, a rental car, over 300 miles and many many hours later; we made it to Durango.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Iv1QyJyoibDdFVXqTfs8JkARX4BwTKwp466gkC-VXjojGYChhoqDNUP_70E6E-kuNRGkBAIDfbSmtmc6Ci5EkCzi-QHJqrHkKB-i81raS7GW57LFpXN35bqmK_5cz0bwfXn7BjTolN4/s1600/IMG_3534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Iv1QyJyoibDdFVXqTfs8JkARX4BwTKwp466gkC-VXjojGYChhoqDNUP_70E6E-kuNRGkBAIDfbSmtmc6Ci5EkCzi-QHJqrHkKB-i81raS7GW57LFpXN35bqmK_5cz0bwfXn7BjTolN4/s1600/IMG_3534.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
A few days after <i>that</i>, we made it to Ft. Collins in my mother-in-law's car, actually on schedule (we skipped the 2nd mini-camping trip we'd planned) while the van stayed in Durango to have a new engine put in. The kids were fine with missing the 2nd camping trip because it just so happened that they got to go to an awesome water day event at our old church with all their friends and cousins. B was double thrilled because she<i> just </i>made the age-limit! <br />
Our days in Colorado were almost all on the cool side; rainy in the afternoons or evenings, and sometimes all day- we loved it! Although, my usually-crazy-brave littlest did discover that he's not at all a fan of thunder.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blaise, my mom (Grammy), and niece Evie (1 1/2) playing in the little-kid sprinklers while the Bigs were at a park with Adam one morning...they had a marvelous time!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKJYgKcahRycivqnHhhJTa9qRTqhZRQvl4ltPoWMNDd6qlHg-asY-S_BkREnyDNYYRU0cQcqnarkhyYa-LBQzXowcEzv0bnh21kuJU2_EoejP5RoVrroZagMJiJ-ElKNBKOpQ21167cQ/s1600/DSC_2916.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/AVvXsEhOKJYgKcahRycivqnHhhJTa9qRTqhZRQvl4ltPoWMNDd6qlHg-asY-S_BkREnyDNYYRU0cQcqnarkhyYa-LBQzXowcEzv0bnh21kuJU2_EoejP5RoVrroZagMJiJ-ElKNBKOpQ21167cQ/s1600/DSC_2916.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a>We spent as much time in the beautiful Colorado outdoors as we could. One day, we took my nephew Ayden (11) and our 3 on a hike up to Horsetooth Falls. We left early, to avoid the thunderstorms, and the kids all had a great time-our kiddos have missed hiking these past few months! Another evening, we took him along with our kids to City Park Pool, where he and Pax took on the giant slides without even blinking. Most evenings were spent playing "kickball" in the backyard until it was dusk, and one rainy afternoon while the littles napped we even got to go see Planes 2 with almost the whole crew-a bit hit!</div>
Intermission: A word about our youngest son.<br />
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This little guy...he's seriously brave. And seriously fierce. And seriously smart, as in he watches EVERYTHING and is pretty sure he can do it all just as well as anyone else-if not better. Which is great- but also gives this mama wrinkles because-let's face it-at 2, that's a combination for disaster!! And so this kid has had more than his fair share of crazy almost-catastrophes since he learned to walk a year and a half ago, let me tell you. Thankfully this wasn't one of them. This rock was <i>much</i> higher than it looks in the picture; he kept telling his daddy, "Don't worry, Daddy-I can do it!" yeah...but we'll hold on anyway, at least for another year or two, littlest buddy!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8rK7C-Rbu7ElBnE9WBhNVKrOkVSRkx4aLgB0yOqWILikSgr4T2yAf7et0XDlcK2aD_FESWIvhyphenhypheni9P_n5g1KSN4WuRJj6Aoz69E70mAXigI6EdiCowsAJBozDaUytBqW_kmyExYBtQ38/s1600/IMG_3574.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/AVvXsEjd8rK7C-Rbu7ElBnE9WBhNVKrOkVSRkx4aLgB0yOqWILikSgr4T2yAf7et0XDlcK2aD_FESWIvhyphenhypheni9P_n5g1KSN4WuRJj6Aoz69E70mAXigI6EdiCowsAJBozDaUytBqW_kmyExYBtQ38/s1600/IMG_3574.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx7ic7Ki-TTizbiJeg_CiyxXs85t8xKlcS2TljNT9iSBx3TMHkNksKOMnwWElr25FMCzG0Co8EUNY9gY8i_4A_NEwC8jdtynm82n2E7k0OdSxz4BqsOczYv1tG3jDfjcMKxX0SKZbJwMg/s1600/IMG_3591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx7ic7Ki-TTizbiJeg_CiyxXs85t8xKlcS2TljNT9iSBx3TMHkNksKOMnwWElr25FMCzG0Co8EUNY9gY8i_4A_NEwC8jdtynm82n2E7k0OdSxz4BqsOczYv1tG3jDfjcMKxX0SKZbJwMg/s1600/IMG_3591.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a>After 5 days, we headed back down to Durango and spent the rest of our time there. Durango is <i>glorious</i> in July, especially if you're coming from Phoenix...we soaked up every second, once again spending our time outside as much as we could. One wonderful evening was spent eating a picnic dinner at a park with our friends the Danquahs, who recently moved back to Durango. We watched a storm roll in...and then watched the kids-all 6 of them- glory in the rain. We had dinner in the back room (read:the wine room) at my in-laws' bakery with my in-laws several times, as well as my brother-and sister-in law and our nieces; another harrowing experience for the mama of a 2-year old. All those bottles! and the ladder! But-worth it for the delicious treats everyone devoured at the end. (Perks of being the grandchild of a French baker: getting to go behind the counter and pick your own as-big-as-your-face pastry.)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGcpRfRBuIodojNx9N0JtweFbyN4A8InOxB3USqvJZIxS2kdZen3VGcF3w5N9hCu9jzcTiZ7r7RxSQQs7Ce3AQ5HrIBYNLvqnLZflbcQacMF1QPIk2yB2IzGKAclkBOgVr43n53NjU-Hc/s1600/IMG_3575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGcpRfRBuIodojNx9N0JtweFbyN4A8InOxB3USqvJZIxS2kdZen3VGcF3w5N9hCu9jzcTiZ7r7RxSQQs7Ce3AQ5HrIBYNLvqnLZflbcQacMF1QPIk2yB2IzGKAclkBOgVr43n53NjU-Hc/s1600/IMG_3575.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a> Add to that the wonderful time we got to spend with the Palmers, the Danquahs, and many more old friends at more parks than I can count; tons of cousin time, Blythe's first sleepover (at Aunt Tiff and Uncle YayYay's house-Pax got to go, too. They had some serious fun! And we felt strangely childless with only one...) friends and family, and, well....it was hard to come back to the hot August desert. Blythe was upset for days; so I taught her the fine art of letter-writing. She then proceeded to write letters to all her Colorado friends and family....and was overjoyed to get an answer from her Grammy and Grandaddy and Evie, just the other day.<br />
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(See? Giant!! These are 2 of our nieces-Madi (8) and Violet (6).)<br />
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This photo just screams summer in Durango to me! </div>
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This was a fun Saturday morning spent at Tiff and Jerome's with cousins and the Palmer kids-Kale (10), Pax (6), Jack (5), and Madi (8). I had the chance to do a few photoshoots again while in town, so I had dropped Adam and the kids off at 7 am on my way to a shoot.</div>
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This is how Blaise spent 75% of the time we were at the bakery. He woke up to the sound of beeping trucks backing up, and ran out the
door to watch them dig and grade and lift until it was time to leave for that day's adventure. They're adding a parking lot across the street for the new pediatric center built in the last year; and therefore there's lots and lots of construction vehicles and workers, too. We spent more than one evening exploring the empty work site, mush to his delight...<br />
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<br />...These are the Danquah girls. One of the perks of having my MIL's Seqoia is that it fits 8; so one morning, while Megan did some last-minute packing and cleaning for the move into their new home, I took all the girls with us to meet the other mamas at their Tuesday park day. Loud, crazy, giggling fun! Pax says they were telling ghost stories in the back...I don't really know where any of them have ever <i>heard</i> a ghost story, but, there you go.<br />
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Pax (6), Lily (7), Sadie (5), Blythe (4), Ollie (3), and Blaise (2). The stair-step kids. Sadie is <i>convinced</i> that they're all "real cousins", despite Lily's attempts to convince her otherwise; and considering that half the people we know and love in Durango ARE "real cousins" and their mama is my birthday "twin"....I can understand her confusion! It's just allllll part of the family.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNMv1POmQDisBk2IHYMoHMnymOhcL90TlACcKQE4yhHjkV5PQ5EyfuGICehQiSrTpsiuXrseeB-22gpFd8Chi9m2CmvovgXtz6udH1J8Zq0olT9e4INHOOGRE4XDhzL3cLoz9jW4SOIE/s1600/IMG_3600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNMv1POmQDisBk2IHYMoHMnymOhcL90TlACcKQE4yhHjkV5PQ5EyfuGICehQiSrTpsiuXrseeB-22gpFd8Chi9m2CmvovgXtz6udH1J8Zq0olT9e4INHOOGRE4XDhzL3cLoz9jW4SOIE/s1600/IMG_3600.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a> And then there's these two. Pax and Ayden. This summer they had SO much fun together! Here you see evidence of their sand/ water days in my parents' backyard, something <i>I</i> have vivid childhood memories of doing. It's so much fun seeing your kiddos enjoy the same summer thrills you did!<br />
The end of this story: our van is still in Durango, not quite fixed yet. Thankfully, we had the generostiy of my mother-in-law's Sequoia to get us back home and around until it's done. We had a deadline-Adam started Clinicals on the 6th of August, so we didn't have a lot of wiggle room. But that's another story.....<br />
let's just say- Summer in Colorado was great!Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-57464146575293851592014-07-15T21:42:00.000-07:002014-07-15T21:43:02.141-07:00Adventures of the Cupboard Dweller: and away he goes...To my Biggest Small Son,<br />
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Last Thursday, you did it. Faced a fear head-on and conquered it. Chose to try, even if it meant failing, instead of balking. You stepped out, and you were ready....<br />
...you learned to ride a two-wheeler.<br />
To some, that may seem like a child-hood no-brainer, a right of passage for a six year old. No big deal. some kids do it earlier; some later. And there's no denying it IS a right of passage. But for you, my highly-imaginative, I'll-do-it-on-my-own-time son, it's been more than that. It's been a definite process. You see, you've loved your red and black Lightening McQueen bike since your Grammy and Grandaddy took you to pick it our for your 5th birthday. No problems with the training wheels on; you couldn't WAIT to ride! But taking the trainers off...well.<br />
Here's where your beautifully active imagination (and, perhaps, a few too many reads of your Daddy's old Calvin and Hobbes comic books) got in the way. You were <i>certain</i> that the minute those training wheels were off and the adult nearby let go, you'd crash and break every bone in your body. Or, possibly, that your bike would eat you. So, you refused to try. We had a few go-rounds with the wheels off and the "c'mon, just TRY IT!" from your dad and I, until we had (another) mini-revelation and realized that this is just.how.you.are. You do things in your own way, on your own time, and you always have- whether it's potty training yourself at 18 months or learning to ride a two-wheeler at 6 1/2. So, we backed off and just tried to make bike riding fun. Which it is. We had races and played and took Grandaddy's suggestion about setting the training wheels a bit higher off the ground to start the idea of balance, which helped. Then, a few weeks ago, I remembered your Grammy's suggestion about removing the training wheels and pedals to basically make it a balance bike. I figured it was worth a shot; and within the first day I could see you becoming more comfortable with balancing, racing your bike, feet up, down the driveway.<br />
Then came Thursday, July 10th, 2014. I knew you were ready. I think you knew, too, but when I suggested putting the pedals back on you still acted a bit unsure. I could see you were nervous, and asked you to try it with me holding on, just once-if you weren't comfortable, we'd take the pedals back off again. No pressure.<br />
But, really, I was pretty sure I wouldn't need to.<br />
And sure enough, 10 seconds into your first ride, I let go and jogged alongside you----<br />
and you were off. That was it. All it took, <i>just one try--</i>and you did it! I shouted and cheered, you laughed, so proud! Both of us, you and I-so proud of what you'd accomplished, of the way you'd swallowed hard and climbed on and <i>did it.</i> The next ride, I took a video per request and as soon as it ended, you gave a huge thumbs up and shouted, "Send it to Daddy!"<br />
Which of course I did. You made his day, buddy. A morning full of testing; he said he's walked out discouraged and then to get that video-the sunshine flooded into his day. He was so proud of you, too!<br />
Because we knew-your daddy and I-that it wasn't just about learning to ride a bike. It was about learning that <i>you can do it.</i> And, perhaps even more importantly, that if you <i>can't </i>do it you sometimes just have to keep trying, and backing up and taking baby steps, until finally, finally, FINALLY you CAN do it--and then the whole world opens up to you. And that's good, too, because we know that "(trials) produce perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope." (Romans 5:5, my paraphrase) Perseverance, my Small Son...Character, Hope...this is what we continually pray for and parent you towards. This is a huge part of what you need to be a man. Especially a man after God's own Heart.<br />
Perhaps the coolest thing about you learning to ride your bike last week? Just the joy of seeing your self-confidence sky rocket. The next day, we went to a cool pool here in town with some good friends. They had big-kid water slides and a diving well with high- and low-dives; and this summer you are just exactly the right height to go on them. But you were the only kiddo in our group who <i>was</i> tall enough, which meant you'd be on your own, mostly. No sweat to you...you asked if you could go on the big slides, I said yes, and off you went on your own. Bam. Conquered it. No sweat. And THEN, after 10 or so slides down the "fast slide" and a little playtime with your friends, you asked if you could go to the diving well at the other end of the pool. Again, I said yes; but this time I did walk over with you. Honestly, I wasn't sure how you'd do if you decided to go up the high dive-actually, I didn't think you'd even want to do the high dive because you're a bit nervous about heights in general. But after one jump off the low dive (piece of cake-we have a small diving board, so you're pretty used to that) you set your sights on the high dive.<br />
I was nervous for you, my son. Not sure if you'd get to the top and freeze, or not. Thinking that you looked so small standing with all the tweens and teens, even while wondering how on earth you'd gotten so big so quickly. And then it was your turn...and as I waited to the side I told you not to look down, to just climb up and look out and walk straight off...and you climbed up and walked out...and looked straight down. Now I could see you getting a bit afraid; it was awfully high. You started to walk backwards and I though for sure you'd climb back down the ladder, but I didn't say anything; sometimes we're just plain not ready for the high dive and Iwanted you to make your own choice. Then-you stopped again. And walked forward again. And crouched waaaaay down....and jumped. I grinned and- honestly, my Small Son-almost cried. Just like that-you decided to be brave, and try, and <i>you did it.</i><br />
I think you went off that high dive 5 or 6 more times that day, just to prove to yourself you could do it. I <i>loved</i> watching you, seeing you become even braver, although you were always cautious. Watching you decide on the last jump to swim all the way to the bottom of the 13-foot diving well and touch the bottom before rocketing up, gasping out, "I touched the bottom!!", proud of yourself. Your daddy laughed, surprised and thrilled with your bravery, when I told him the story that night. <i>He went off the high dive?!? That's fantastic!!</i><br />
My Pax-boy, don't ever forget the small steps of bravery. Don't ever trivialize the times you depend on God and grab hold of who He is making you to be and just <i>jump. </i>It's the little things that add up to the big things. Character is built in the mundane. And every Warrior fights with a stick, long before he learns to hold a sword.<i> </i><br />
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We love you, Not-so-Small-Son. We are so proud of you. <i>Now let's go ride our bikes!</i><br />
<i>Perseverance produces Character, and character, Hope...</i><br />
<i> and Hope does not disappoint.</i>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-162475450968287942014-05-30T14:47:00.004-07:002014-05-30T14:47:59.629-07:00a Baby no more.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">April 5th, 2012. Meeting big brother at one hour old.</td></tr>
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Our fierce, loud, sensitive, musical, crazy, snaggle-toothed builderfixerguy is TWO. No babies in this house anymore...the week before his birthday we started potty training and the week after he lost his plug-and that was it. Bam. Big kid city. This <i>particular</i> two-year-old has brought us challenges that we've not experienced before; but it's still just such a super-fun stage of life. I have two good friends who also have three and we all agree: third baby=game changer. He's crazy :) New words, new phrases..getting in between the two bigs when they're arguing and shouting out "Pax! Stop! Now! One...teww..." and then "spanking" his brother (that's a hard one. Defending his sister vs. hitting. See? the kid is a conundrum!) Getting put in his crib for a timeout (for hitting said big brother) and subsequently pulling his pants off and <i>peeing all over his bed</i> to show his displeasure. The kid is smart and very, very aware of EVERYTHING. Pax has nicknamed our good friends "the Behs" because littlest calls all of them (including the dad) "Beh". He can <i>say</i> Loren and Cora and I've even heard him say Charissa. But, no, they are all "Beh!" After their mama Beth, whom he loves. A lot. </div>
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He knows he's funny and frequently plays the ham to make people laugh-especially his big brother and sister; something he's done from a very young age. And he's still the biggest sweetheart, running to the freezer for a "col pool" (cold pack) if his sister or brother (or anyone else) hurts themselves. (Beth is pretty sure he's gonna be an athletic trainer based off of that one!) He gives the biggest and sweetest hugs, frequently sprinkles French words and phrases in among the English, and wants to do exactly what Pax is doing. I cannot believe how much I love him or how much joy he brings to our family-we are so thankful for this silly little blessing! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">April 5th, 2013-first birthday!</td></tr>
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We had a small family party at home this year, just my folks and I-Adam had a clinic he had to work in the morning, so we spent the morning getting donuts and shopping for new boots for the birthday boy (one of my folks' gifts. Blaise looooves his boots and was so sad when he outgrew the last pair!). After naps, we had a little party with balloons, presents, and-of course-cake! By far the biggest hit of the day was putting all of the balloons on the trampoline. The kids jumped and bounced for at LEAST and hour and had a fantastic time! Seriously... this might be an every-year occurrence!<br />
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Pure. Joy. This prettymuch sums up little Adam Blaise's personality perfectly!<br />
April 5th, 2014.<br />
and now, he is Two.
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F-Al0LN497DJg%2FU4jzlLlWDCI%2FAAAAAAAACzA%2FC-R0yKbl9Z8%2Fs1600%2FDSC_0125.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYZq_HPNU2lbSzgckN-rqJ9FKT6o9H1Ghp_INSuvFlIzACdsRyzLeomDsOqzaIOSh5Dw33kFQSrTN3-PP5FICUqj5KM5Q4y1iAxLGg2scsYsJW3sQoaJKihdXQndwlZrBQwJWSWwNmWVE/s1600/DSC_0125.jpg" -->Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-6687888083762343462014-05-21T21:58:00.002-07:002014-05-21T21:58:50.442-07:00Diary of a P.A. student('s wife)Clinicals.<br />
If you haven't been living in this house for the past 10 months-which is 99.9% of the population-you probably have very little idea, if any, what a big deal that word has been.<br />
Clinicals. Always like that. Actually, in even bigger letters...<span style="font-size: x-large;">Clinicals.<span style="font-size: small;"> There. That's better.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Clinicals meant...well, it <i>means</i> a lot of things. The start of a new year; the second year of P.A. school.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;">An end to the classwork, and <i>some</i> of the crazy fire-hydrant-book-learning. And the start of all things hands-on and people related. In other words, my husband's forte.</span></span><br />
For quite awhile, it meant the possibility of being separated for six weeks or more; or relocating for part of the year.<br />
Basically, clinicals has been a big, giant, much-talked-about question mark in this house. But now...<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let me back up a minute. First, this year. This crazy, crazy fast year of book-learning. Didactic year has been...well, interesting. Not easy, but not horrible either; thanks to a wonderful husband who<i> gets it</i> and does his best to keep first things. And, of course, we've had a lot of Divine help.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> It's been challenging for both of us and has required even greater discipline-from both of us. You wouldn't think <i>I'd</i> necessarily need to be more disciplined, seeing as I'm not the one in school; but I absolutely did. I've found that living a <i>bit</i> more disciplined life in some areas has actually led to <i>more</i> flexibility, <i>more </i>calm in our days, and simply everything running smoother in general. Which I'm sure is no brain wave to most people; but let's face it, I'm NOT the type-A one in this family and there's definitely an element of fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants in my blood. I've been working on it. So, now, I get up voluntarily between 5:15 and 5:30 (Adam is up by 4:30, to get a little more studying in...but he's always been better at super-early mornings than late nights. Baker's son and all that.). This early rising is perhaps shocking to my mother. I've found, though, it's been vital to smooth (and slower) mornings, which I do much better with. This way I have time for things like quite times and exercise and getting a load of laundry done and the dishes unloaded before the kids wake up. You know, all those things that help you not to be a crazy person (or at least, a little less crazy). Plus, when you have a husband who is up so early that he brings you your morning tea nice and hot before you've even sat up in bed most days...well, that helps a lot. A LOT. Really, I don't know what I'm gonna do when he's not a student anymore and gets up at a more normal hour-or when he works nights and isn't around to make my tea. I'm thoroughly spoiled. I know this.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> And yet...somehow, even with all the newly-added organization/discipline in my life, there's been a serious lack of <i>time</i>. Time for things like blogging, anyhow. Also, that whole homeschooling-during-the-smallest-son's-naptime might have something to do with it. Either way, it means that somehow I've let a WHOLE MONTH go by between the time we found out about Adam's clinical placements and the blogging of it. In fact, I didn't even think about it until I started getting questions from aunts and good friends and cousins about where he'd be doing clinicals...oops. So, to answer the question-we're staying in the Valley! Adam had requested a couple of rotations up in Colorado, but between the school's requirements and the doctors' available time, it simply didn't work out. And while it would've been fun to have a 6-week adventure in Colorado with family, there's no denying it's much, much easier not to pack up a family of 5 with three young kiddos for six weeks. Believe me, I've done it before. Doable, but not easy! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> We're also incredibly thankful that Adam will be able to come home <i>at some point </i>every day. This is truly an incredible blessing. Several students, including some with families, have clinicals in places that are over an hour commute each day-which means they'll most likely be finding a place to stay for the week and home only on weekends. Going into this clinical process, I prayed for two things: that we'd be able to stay together as a family, and that Adam would get the preceptors and clinical sites he needs to learn what he needs to learn. I knew I'd be able to handle anything else that came our way. I'm so incredibly thankful to see how the Lord has answered the first part of that prayer-and I can't wait to see how he answers the second part! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Neither of us can believe how quickly this first year has gone. We're down to the last 7 weeks...it'll be 7 weeks of craziness, but STILL! It's only 7 weeks. Then a few weeks off to breathe, and then....the fun begins! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-6769090090910082372014-05-06T15:24:00.003-07:002014-05-06T15:24:57.035-07:00Adventures of the Cupboard Dweller: Indecent Exposure. My folks came into town for Blaise's birthday at the beginning of April. We had a great visit; and toward the end of their trip, my dad, Adam and I took the kids to a nearby train park to spend a Saturday morning. (note:Saturday=busy) We had tickets to the train and carousel, thanks to my aunt's generosity when they'd come up a week or so before with my cousin's kids; so we got in line for the train first thing. Great! The kids were all thrilled. The train pulled in...and Pax suddenly realized he needed to go to the bathroom. could it wait till after the ride? No. Ok.<br />
Being that he's six and a half, Adam walked him down the ramp and then told him to hurry to the bathroom, since the train would be loading very soon and the bathroom was maybe 300 yards away. Pax raced across the small yard towards the bathroom, saw a tree halfway there...and panicked.<br />
I watched in shocked horror as my not-so-small son ducked behind the tree (in the middle of the park, filled with people all around) and DROPPED HIS PANTS. AND his unders. To his ANKLES.<br />
Somehow, as I watched the undressing unfold (in what seemed like slow motion, of course) I desperately yelled, "ADAM!!", while Adam himself charged across the 200 yards or so to quickly ask Pax to <i>pull his pants back up.</i> And then ushered him to the bathroom door. The poor kid...apparently he just knew his need, saw a tree, didn't want to miss the train, and decided it was his quickest option. Adam and I were all at once horrified, slightly embarrassed-and couldn't help but laugh.<br />
We may need to work on reacting under stress. Especially in public. But, to <a href="http://dubaya.blogspot.com/2012/10/diary-of-premed-students-wife.htm" target="_blank">the boy who ripped off his clothes, peed on a palm tree, and jumped into the pool in celebration</a> only last year...well, you can see the logic.I <i>had</i> been expecting potty issues that day...only with the potty-training two-year-old. Not my oldest.<br />
Only Pax, people. I love him. He keeps me on my toes constantly. He's one-of-a-kind, that kid!Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-85808611243671764132014-05-02T15:54:00.000-07:002014-05-02T15:54:33.934-07:00April in Arizona.Spring in Arizona. It's why people live here! So that's what we've been doing...<br />
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snuggling. eating waffles. seeing beauty. painting. waffles...yummm....bringing joy to little hearts. playing with cousins..and friends. hiking.walking in Grandaddy's boots. PA-racing on climbing walls. imagining. baking cakes. celebrating little boy birthdays. group homeschooling. playing princess. seeing beauty. swimming (well...some of us!). falling asleep while listening in to Mama & Megs. accidental science experiments. seeing beauty. ripping off fingernails in playground (third kids...I tell ya!!)."reading". celebrating. fighting croup.</div>
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living life. seeing beauty. everywhere.</div>
<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-88271537323225008112014-03-26T05:30:00.000-07:002014-03-26T05:30:02.797-07:001000 words.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know there's been a lot of pics of this little princess lately-but that's because she's the most enthusiastic about the camera at this point! I love being her mama. I love the late-night "Mama, can we just <i>talk? </i>Girls, well, they need to talk more than boys, you know." Which is true! <i>Especially</i> for her...my folks took all the kids out to eat once last winter and the boys fell asleep while she talked all.the.way.home. My mom said to me, "You know how most women have 5,000 words a day? I'm pretty sure she has 50,000!" it's so, so true-and something we've come to love about her. We have some very, very interesting talks after I put Pax to bed with a few songs and an "I love you, Pax." ("Ok," is his response to that....)Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-2271132738165149572014-03-19T05:00:00.000-07:002014-03-19T05:00:00.616-07:00Wordless Wednesday:2010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is Pax, sometime in the spring of 2010. I miss that little tongue, stuck out in concentration!Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-5251150511133493092014-03-18T15:30:00.001-07:002014-03-18T15:30:19.509-07:00A dream...reborn? Second Wind. I just did something completely terrifying (for me) and absolutly exhilirating, at the same time. I signed up for a completely awsome 4 DAY photography conference here next fall. Terrifying, because I'm fignting the lies in my head about not being good enough or hip enough to join this awsomeness (hey, I'm just a stay-at-home homeschooling mama who happens to have a photography business on the side!); exhilirating because of the timing and the way it all came about.<br />
I see God in the details, although perhaps others would just say "coincidence". But no. For 2 years now, I've wanted to do a flash course or a photography conference; something with continuing education and hands-on photo experience and personal critiques, with some business sense thrown in the mix. WPPI is too far away with 3 kids and a husband in grad school and everything else... well. A year ago, I priced a flash course out with a fellow photog. here in Phoenix I happen to know/ sing with at church; but couldn't afford it at the time. 2 months ago, doubts started creeping in about whether or not I should even keep going on this journey; should I keep my business? I wanted to; this has been a dream of mine since I was a girl and I LOVE what I do. <i>But kids, doubts, time, my own fears get in my way sometimes.</i> Yesterday, we got the next loan installment, which is prettymuch what we live off of right now, with some help from parents and a bit from my photography business. Last night, on my instagram feed, the same photographer I asked about the flash course last year posted about a conference she'll be a part of next fall. She said they'd sold out in 48 hours, but were opening 10 more spots today at noon. I looked it up and knew I wanted to go. Showed it to Adam...asked him about investing in this opportunity...heard his encouragement, not only of the conference but also of chasing this dream and making things happen, regardless of his time restraints right now (which is a big reason I haven't been pursuing much right now, but just letting business trickle in). I decided to wait. To pray. And then to just see if there were any spots open at noon today....<br />
.....and then I forgot all. about. it. Something about feeding my children lunch and a little girl who needed a bit of<strike> discipline</strike> attention and homeschooling got in the way until 2pm, when Adam asked if I'd looked at the registration.<br />
I got on the site...and there were spots open. Honestly, I was shocked.<br />
"Are you ok with this?"<br />
"Honey, if you feel good about it, go for it," he told me (he's so great!). So I clicked the reservation down to "1", pushed "book now", and quickly called my mama to ask if she'd be available to come those days, since it starts on a Thursday night and who knows what my husband will be doing at that point in time. She said yes-and I reserved my spot.<br />
I'm freaking out.<br />
Good and bad...<br />
fighting the lies<br />
knowing this is a direct answer to prayer; that if that Instagram message had been one week earlier I wouldn't have given it a second thought.<br />
knowing He gave me the creativity and desire to record relationships and memories through photography<br />
knowing there's much more to this than possibly growing my business.<br />
knowing that this conference won't <i>necessarily</i> make or break me; that there's work to be done right now. <br />
I offer my gifting up for His glory, and I'm excited to see where this leads me...and to see how He'll provide the bookings to pay for the rest of it. Because I know He will.<br />
<i>Now pardon me while I go freak out a little bit more...</i>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-80869689428732847592014-03-05T14:26:00.004-08:002014-03-05T14:26:49.974-08:00Wordless(ish) Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVgNeMKXUrYX7u_jlM3rUBrEgj0ZVW7c1cv6FAR4pwcG5Z_Ybp-EC6Fj1UpD3lM23is4U3nArabW81TKurzWUDo6R2z-jbEFmuktH4O1yGTc03sb8kf8CiBBK8x9jsWmv4NChxat-_dZ8/s1600/DSC_0843.jpg" height="420" width="640" /> </div>
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A month from <i>today</i>, this little guy will be two. TWO! I feel like it was just yesterday that I looked like this, in labor and so very ready for him to be born, with a different, tiny two-year-old clinging to me. :)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-TsVomimU3l_qtOhRBNOL6TRRI-Id8XZg6YOuM2rfsioVprWVaFZF2bik8Bt7IL8cZgr1Iol_qD62qmAanMnSznFgykXNSfQyOD03fTo4YkCnJ_rGJ7709JuUUp8Xq_eglzYRZV9fPI/s1600/DSC_0078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-TsVomimU3l_qtOhRBNOL6TRRI-Id8XZg6YOuM2rfsioVprWVaFZF2bik8Bt7IL8cZgr1Iol_qD62qmAanMnSznFgykXNSfQyOD03fTo4YkCnJ_rGJ7709JuUUp8Xq_eglzYRZV9fPI/s1600/DSC_0078.JPG" height="400" width="265" /></a></div>
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<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-23254236211352014272014-02-26T05:00:00.000-08:002014-02-26T05:00:02.626-08:00wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgps7o5sE9q39K8csEhg_1Oa_K_vR4qAvXvueIj7lAGO7uMB_hjlUmkc9Tj2CDxrObGigQ71_vGYCou3a4SXqgmB37POrYfIo2zPs-TmbRz3PDViBXnXRATUIdxpQEyFm2fk7VCcPLPN0A/s1600/DSC_0884-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgps7o5sE9q39K8csEhg_1Oa_K_vR4qAvXvueIj7lAGO7uMB_hjlUmkc9Tj2CDxrObGigQ71_vGYCou3a4SXqgmB37POrYfIo2zPs-TmbRz3PDViBXnXRATUIdxpQEyFm2fk7VCcPLPN0A/s1600/DSC_0884-2.jpg" height="420" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-57714762958609145042014-02-25T14:31:00.002-08:002014-02-25T14:31:49.970-08:00And then she was four.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I think this about every birthday any of my littles have...but HOW IS SHE FOUR already?? No longer a baby, even a little bit (although the 18 month old who talked in full sentences didn't seem much like a baby at the time, either...). <br />
It was so much fun to listen to her plot and plan with Pax about her birthday; about having a little party and who would come, what cake she'd like (a dollcake again-surprise!), what they'd eat (enchiladas-yum!). She's always enjoyed her birthday, of course, but this year was the first she really got <i>super</i> excited about everything. So, we had a little party the day before her birthday with a few little friends. Thanks to my dad, there were streamers and balloons to please any little girls' heart; and between my mom and I a dress fit for a princess was whipped up the day before. Blythe chose the fabric and the pattern herself-which will come as no surprise if you know her at all! She's definitely sure she's a princess right now. Or a ballerina. Or a ballerina-princess! I'm pretty sure "ballerina-princess-doctor" was the future career of choice last time I checked.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDIT6tTUye0PwxtRr-9YvR01kwFtZf8_LrrftduFeRzUlFdtzGKICZQz3LcMtn4rUs6e-Ln1Iq8nYGxsCwDrReMFj9nzcAnfCyBvOtoxXBzh328l2-GPiIyFkxFkD9rJGmuLuV2Zs2Jg/s1600/DSC_0429.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/AVvXsEgxDIT6tTUye0PwxtRr-9YvR01kwFtZf8_LrrftduFeRzUlFdtzGKICZQz3LcMtn4rUs6e-Ln1Iq8nYGxsCwDrReMFj9nzcAnfCyBvOtoxXBzh328l2-GPiIyFkxFkD9rJGmuLuV2Zs2Jg/s1600/DSC_0429.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkORy0sAQBo5gjHsZI2bC7ZPFKjkqa8CfEBMJu-hMs56duaOfXXhk5F7o1_zuVPvTNAb4KV0MXqanRMnkZ4E2_QEVano5LLkL9smV-RAQVSa-vjHNlRbL3974TOgUCatNXQpVoUTVbSk/s1600/DSC_0409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkORy0sAQBo5gjHsZI2bC7ZPFKjkqa8CfEBMJu-hMs56duaOfXXhk5F7o1_zuVPvTNAb4KV0MXqanRMnkZ4E2_QEVano5LLkL9smV-RAQVSa-vjHNlRbL3974TOgUCatNXQpVoUTVbSk/s1600/DSC_0409.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a><br />
The gold crown was part of her gift from Adam and I. This dress...I didn't think she would take it off even to sleep! And she's worn it almost constantly since. I got so much joy out of watcher <i>her</i> joy over every little thing-I remember how much I loved twirly dresses and sparkly anything as a little girl, too; and I sort of get to relive it all with B.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzH32BVFI_xyC4Z0WYOEYR89Z7Ud9_qCo2HdAVjj3g9Q9rv6KZ_JG_ZsHIb4Ama11jT9iDMSs5cqg-7hJjNvHZgu3827oQxWRIT7wcAV6SGCAwYkeH3UDIXqueJ5LnOFZKIkeupKqslKI/s1600/DSC_0445.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/AVvXsEjzH32BVFI_xyC4Z0WYOEYR89Z7Ud9_qCo2HdAVjj3g9Q9rv6KZ_JG_ZsHIb4Ama11jT9iDMSs5cqg-7hJjNvHZgu3827oQxWRIT7wcAV6SGCAwYkeH3UDIXqueJ5LnOFZKIkeupKqslKI/s1600/DSC_0445.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmIrpO2At7duNV9T9gsZlC6sV9vO4Z6H1ZXu5zA4MfNirD56yVX3xzxy2MCP-4vU7epOlcsEEF_K69Ls_rTid7WUAv4MusqLV4o75xO9CWwc3KdsJ8hW3WLsm8G484j_hEGKfZ_69uW8/s1600/DSC_0437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmIrpO2At7duNV9T9gsZlC6sV9vO4Z6H1ZXu5zA4MfNirD56yVX3xzxy2MCP-4vU7epOlcsEEF_K69Ls_rTid7WUAv4MusqLV4o75xO9CWwc3KdsJ8hW3WLsm8G484j_hEGKfZ_69uW8/s1600/DSC_0437.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a>We had cake, of course; but she needed Pax's help with the candles. She was a bit too shy to blow them out with all eyes on her! A funny mix of sweet-and-shy and crazy emoter right now, our girlie is. I'm never quite sure what to expect; but I <i>love</i> the way she always looks to him for protection and help when she's feeling uncertain around others.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOUzo92WfGdDv_TGDx-IGBlmgpVyYwVrAVMf8_nruXhvQGLOTOi8kIqAxwr24K1SIlh0282NwQv5WZGk8hw_CbmQSNiMJ5YL3m0dMKjFJki-4paUxWlnzgvBtlqBCHUTDAyTUYCzSiYuA/s1600/DSC_0506.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/AVvXsEhOUzo92WfGdDv_TGDx-IGBlmgpVyYwVrAVMf8_nruXhvQGLOTOi8kIqAxwr24K1SIlh0282NwQv5WZGk8hw_CbmQSNiMJ5YL3m0dMKjFJki-4paUxWlnzgvBtlqBCHUTDAyTUYCzSiYuA/s1600/DSC_0506.jpg" height="320" width="210" /></a><br />
The next day, on her real birthday, we had a little family celebration-the "flatted-out" tutu was a five-star gift from my folks. Adam had made her a balance beam, so we spent the morning playing on that after church; and then went to our good friends' house to watch the Broncos. Hey, it was playoffs!! and she got to play with their two girlies, whom she loves. So really, it was like a second birthday party for her. We even had enchiladas again-leftovers from the day before :) Their youngest girlie commandeered my dad as her third grandpa; and wanted to cuddle with only him when he was hurt, which was totally adorable. I managed to snap a picture of my dad, Cora, and Blythe watching the game together...but it's on my phone, and won't upload, and as it's the end of February and her birthday was last month...I think I'll just post this now and save that for another time. First world problems... <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgS6LrlOSrBfl8ChHtjzXqt8g0wrGWptAIECTxVmKvlpYCG17a6UruCq9hUyqSEDRfWCcnPD9pXDdjbOrFZIaMAxYCM0euF7ary7stzbnL3c427OcaOwuG2DCrBPgMiy21Qtv1tbzShI/s1600/DSC_0516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgS6LrlOSrBfl8ChHtjzXqt8g0wrGWptAIECTxVmKvlpYCG17a6UruCq9hUyqSEDRfWCcnPD9pXDdjbOrFZIaMAxYCM0euF7ary7stzbnL3c427OcaOwuG2DCrBPgMiy21Qtv1tbzShI/s1600/DSC_0516.jpg" height="640" width="419" /></a><br />
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oh, and Little Brother loves the balance beam, too! He's pretty good at it, too, when his big 4-year-old sister isn't trying to "mother" him along :)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwUcYzAA2GdQZQbyiyZDm_rR4-PwLXDqLqL4el7VkHIBaSLEE1Iinw7OpvsHSl7fnLAM8NvTSwtNHEJ9tUv5-A-CoCXnad_3DntrBdwioq2B7Sc2U9vQ5ssvIHJ8KKxO3nAQHj2i3H3c/s1600/DSC_0449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-37707555374409006372014-02-19T13:55:00.001-08:002014-02-19T13:55:40.241-08:00Wordless Wednesday<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgE4pfwZwvV51TYil8XDH2ZaBAp6dAjnIeRC3qnPrZflR-SbDx8AQWk8NSvOWDWkieFvDgFRgRk-SmKmKKoH6t5-AI_MI17dwYtzmhNt5YP-voZow57NQemJ83rKjwyK6Rvshkmd7vNk/s1600/DSC_0513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgE4pfwZwvV51TYil8XDH2ZaBAp6dAjnIeRC3qnPrZflR-SbDx8AQWk8NSvOWDWkieFvDgFRgRk-SmKmKKoH6t5-AI_MI17dwYtzmhNt5YP-voZow57NQemJ83rKjwyK6Rvshkmd7vNk/s1600/DSC_0513.jpg" height="640" width="420" /></a></div>
Yes, I do think I'll start this again...too many fun pictures not to!Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-24428356316084516782014-02-13T15:06:00.001-08:002014-02-13T15:06:22.384-08:00Muddy Buddies.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqaM1tQKBSK6OHeFA_hRHdnvlZiJBNFjHlY8mdEb6Q402DVIv09hRxfzYD5a1komaK0EEPVVIoSemcLNybLIHf4eCZLblm8m1BnbLhhqtcA2iKWNqxHLtsaKoyDX4Bsk-Fkl1yBzXP6jw/s1600/DSC_0524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqaM1tQKBSK6OHeFA_hRHdnvlZiJBNFjHlY8mdEb6Q402DVIv09hRxfzYD5a1komaK0EEPVVIoSemcLNybLIHf4eCZLblm8m1BnbLhhqtcA2iKWNqxHLtsaKoyDX4Bsk-Fkl1yBzXP6jw/s1600/DSC_0524.jpg" height="420" width="640" /></a></div>
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Once there were three little buddies, living in Arizona.<br />
The older two were told stories of when they were tinys- of winters of snow and ice and cold...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHgsuvQqtmseeMMjMZGnlVRYh5f3MJUXJwTG6g3ja4bT3SatHMocM51SwulpGc0ts3NDAx-a0RNlCXuuNuyy06Xm7V7mnGSVWkRDCztA_gm8ZkZyjhlcLT9eZciL1wKmnoFTxgehec2c/s1600/DSC_0528.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/AVvXsEipHgsuvQqtmseeMMjMZGnlVRYh5f3MJUXJwTG6g3ja4bT3SatHMocM51SwulpGc0ts3NDAx-a0RNlCXuuNuyy06Xm7V7mnGSVWkRDCztA_gm8ZkZyjhlcLT9eZciL1wKmnoFTxgehec2c/s1600/DSC_0528.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlxtFXbZB_Mtl4u4CWk3MplSEJyxLzayJ3CRz5yTVXR4rJgt1Wu2tamZtH-GMe0zRE8FxTUlcSPDSP1CtrksuFfjGDJU8zBEQfa3sdsoupffto7oH5QTt2GC74dCq3PpCdl3QPU-eCQ8/s1600/DSC_0531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlxtFXbZB_Mtl4u4CWk3MplSEJyxLzayJ3CRz5yTVXR4rJgt1Wu2tamZtH-GMe0zRE8FxTUlcSPDSP1CtrksuFfjGDJU8zBEQfa3sdsoupffto7oH5QTt2GC74dCq3PpCdl3QPU-eCQ8/s1600/DSC_0531.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
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but-<br />
it was all rather of hard to believe<br />
on a February day<br />
that was 75 degrees<br />
and a yard full of dirt begged to be turned into mud.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AAlqzJ4UYnksTuJM2p8tmSXVxbERiHPTRwPxe41sxOJ3hbsz46lGUjr5kD-s6npLtfPzttQ8zvt0rNESDpy-K4oimMhnIdSHE5WA98loA4aUkQwuq7e43YpBHS1Ul5dtX72cVA-jW8A/s1600/DSC_0542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AAlqzJ4UYnksTuJM2p8tmSXVxbERiHPTRwPxe41sxOJ3hbsz46lGUjr5kD-s6npLtfPzttQ8zvt0rNESDpy-K4oimMhnIdSHE5WA98loA4aUkQwuq7e43YpBHS1Ul5dtX72cVA-jW8A/s1600/DSC_0542.jpg" height="420" width="640" /></a>So-</div>
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"su! su!" the littlest begged, running with silly baby steps to the drawer that held his swim trunks.</div>
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The bigs dressed themselves, bolting out the door.<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsZmBKiQ7BsW7e9yHEfz-at2M8CWXwd1yZCg1N_xpjnUefKKVAIstjM4b4t0QGgmU-ptAxTrQu8dXkAMiiTuZuWEuGeSOVvf6caxXmMbyu5n20GJ4Oj4fAM5vu6uSoSmStnugk3605Wc/s1600/DSC_0534.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32ngP4HfC0tNNpXfUw7cw10SOGkFpZiC_v2FPkbrnYVQId5MRtRWBhNnufBR9jAt5SnyaZb4Wf-vpvFi3r8Pm8cVchrIAB1lkjKCCoyZqzfANooR_N4SDuP5YaH86oCC1NHVVtuMksFA/s1600/DSC_0558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32ngP4HfC0tNNpXfUw7cw10SOGkFpZiC_v2FPkbrnYVQId5MRtRWBhNnufBR9jAt5SnyaZb4Wf-vpvFi3r8Pm8cVchrIAB1lkjKCCoyZqzfANooR_N4SDuP5YaH86oCC1NHVVtuMksFA/s1600/DSC_0558.jpg" height="640" width="420" /></a> Then pies were mixed and mud was thrown and really, really big sticks were dragged around by too-small boys<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVMA_k_fmlkjsLPJF1452ugYZ7tsHBnx1RMWYctzPMi1lqimveDETPrXIQ1lgvSnJwYjowXBjxvjpCtrFS_FN66w-fTojydvuFGiKtfiSoUpyfvbPg3KvG-RfAlsXb4SeI52bgEgAV7k/s1600/DSC_0539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
until Daddy came home and it was time<br />
for dinner and dark.<br />
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And that, my friends, is winter this year<br />
in the land of Arizona.Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4509704127426703113.post-53556285201183705422014-01-28T15:09:00.002-08:002014-01-28T15:09:33.879-08:00love.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9t6Df_NPL4Jn4fTw8hVk4cGmApsSNq5NzMarIn4pMclAZdd5HietNZw-8JsW1aESm3jKomZVx0mSi1TZL3MEVi3BqCK93Jf7s3Q9OHrXoIgiPyxNnG2wbE7d_T4U__ux1a4Culqhw934/s1600/DSC_0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9t6Df_NPL4Jn4fTw8hVk4cGmApsSNq5NzMarIn4pMclAZdd5HietNZw-8JsW1aESm3jKomZVx0mSi1TZL3MEVi3BqCK93Jf7s3Q9OHrXoIgiPyxNnG2wbE7d_T4U__ux1a4Culqhw934/s1600/DSC_0018.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">A couple of years ago, before we ever attended the church we're at now or even heard of <a href="http://familymatters.net/" target="_blank">Family Matters</a> or <a href="http://gracebasedparenting.com/" target="_blank">Grace-Based Parenting</a>, Adam came up with a definition of love, based on our faith. Then we found it written out in a book more articulately than we could ever put it...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Love:</i></span><br />
the commitment of my <i>will</i> to your <i>needs </i>and <i>best interests</i>, regardless of the cost.<br />
-Tim Kimmel, Family Matters<br />
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I am so thankful that my husband is a questioner, a man who will chew and wrestle and pray about an idea or an issue and will not let go until God has answered him. And I love what this has done for our marriage and our family. (plus...how cute was that baby??)<br />
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<br />Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06534692975867454550noreply@blogger.com1