tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-150527602024-03-07T16:25:53.521-05:00Crisp HappeningsLiving Laughing LovingJoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16965168680688634399noreply@blogger.comBlogger342125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-74690198645350115982013-01-23T14:42:00.000-05:002013-01-23T14:42:03.689-05:00Three Year Old Crisp Girls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's so fun to compare the girls at similar ages and see how different/same they are. Here are a couple pictures of the girls at 3 for your comparing pleasure. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YE6rISQRpHuVKSGwXp79WvujLxRpfDTlFwjwzijKtUJaHkneDMBFDDdXQEvu2A7joXz7eXweOVh374tf-DZY1n_oee6zhUkgAAnuNiiul_RZDf3zVn3XBTL8v-4YS33j8Mnn/s1600/Beautiful+Girl%5B2%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YE6rISQRpHuVKSGwXp79WvujLxRpfDTlFwjwzijKtUJaHkneDMBFDDdXQEvu2A7joXz7eXweOVh374tf-DZY1n_oee6zhUkgAAnuNiiul_RZDf3zVn3XBTL8v-4YS33j8Mnn/s1600/Beautiful+Girl%5B2%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YE6rISQRpHuVKSGwXp79WvujLxRpfDTlFwjwzijKtUJaHkneDMBFDDdXQEvu2A7joXz7eXweOVh374tf-DZY1n_oee6zhUkgAAnuNiiul_RZDf3zVn3XBTL8v-4YS33j8Mnn/s1600/Beautiful+Girl%5B2%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YE6rISQRpHuVKSGwXp79WvujLxRpfDTlFwjwzijKtUJaHkneDMBFDDdXQEvu2A7joXz7eXweOVh374tf-DZY1n_oee6zhUkgAAnuNiiul_RZDf3zVn3XBTL8v-4YS33j8Mnn/s1600/Beautiful+Girl%5B2%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YE6rISQRpHuVKSGwXp79WvujLxRpfDTlFwjwzijKtUJaHkneDMBFDDdXQEvu2A7joXz7eXweOVh374tf-DZY1n_oee6zhUkgAAnuNiiul_RZDf3zVn3XBTL8v-4YS33j8Mnn/s1600/Beautiful+Girl%5B2%5D.JPG" /></a></div>
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Olivia </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07efsQ2phaweMHN37z3LvfW4Kj9DHjgjUmmLmRFN_H9PpCWrdk_0S8PiwWmlwZBRLJZgtjf8x0pVpzxMD7WUPEvA0xEguE7hJ2Nx5IL4IOAl74ZoMA90al90hfYmmatKrz2Pb/s1600/IMG_0578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07efsQ2phaweMHN37z3LvfW4Kj9DHjgjUmmLmRFN_H9PpCWrdk_0S8PiwWmlwZBRLJZgtjf8x0pVpzxMD7WUPEvA0xEguE7hJ2Nx5IL4IOAl74ZoMA90al90hfYmmatKrz2Pb/s320/IMG_0578.jpg" width="111" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvTWTrxkslSx6E_rScXqOMn-AdcZgnkJrVdz4g21zGQf9VRhDQBvruPRcEVxhaYA4_sayMrodePeW_yNRKPz0SY1DYezSzFSkVjMjH-UxCqomKjw4HMeYYIEEQkoVQNCXoK9Q/s1600/5167_118936158297_778223297_2877756_61228_n%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvTWTrxkslSx6E_rScXqOMn-AdcZgnkJrVdz4g21zGQf9VRhDQBvruPRcEVxhaYA4_sayMrodePeW_yNRKPz0SY1DYezSzFSkVjMjH-UxCqomKjw4HMeYYIEEQkoVQNCXoK9Q/s1600/5167_118936158297_778223297_2877756_61228_n%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a></div>
Nora Esther <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFfLRyJNXLCtPrtX9wDT_en6t6JmrGoB0hN7wLXuhKkQte50p09Y6Hz5lcqnVva2L2b8eKVhZDo4R_TrCxvsPluNwVlOKbkZIO5W74SRxSc7rilrM7qWs5Xf6fxIDau4qLKP1-/s1600/PICT0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFfLRyJNXLCtPrtX9wDT_en6t6JmrGoB0hN7wLXuhKkQte50p09Y6Hz5lcqnVva2L2b8eKVhZDo4R_TrCxvsPluNwVlOKbkZIO5W74SRxSc7rilrM7qWs5Xf6fxIDau4qLKP1-/s1600/PICT0024.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LIdd2wX3rU2_BqfCnBUlyXWL48_bzZqken4qeuki9tBeXbXKJOB-kjiKgegONpp1T6kyDOwdeRZfnYmR-nek-3XnAk0rcRScoFyb19MX-1HRzWKt5YCWVnyPT-1yavKM7Ipt/s1600/PICT0043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LIdd2wX3rU2_BqfCnBUlyXWL48_bzZqken4qeuki9tBeXbXKJOB-kjiKgegONpp1T6kyDOwdeRZfnYmR-nek-3XnAk0rcRScoFyb19MX-1HRzWKt5YCWVnyPT-1yavKM7Ipt/s320/PICT0043.JPG" width="118" /></a></div>
Olivia Esther<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwidqX7DU4pqNJt4wHRnSZUVJUl6mX2ocbDTtyAB9YXu1cyqFZ32iXGfOIZtBe0mUCK9-L1qjnt1qI3CcJjbDQMSMjux8_KQHoolCw37q62Abeaza4bmvhaIDgX8fkVWrVQusj/s1600/IMG_0943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwidqX7DU4pqNJt4wHRnSZUVJUl6mX2ocbDTtyAB9YXu1cyqFZ32iXGfOIZtBe0mUCK9-L1qjnt1qI3CcJjbDQMSMjux8_KQHoolCw37q62Abeaza4bmvhaIDgX8fkVWrVQusj/s320/IMG_0943.jpg" width="151" /></a></div>
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Nora</div>
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<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-61153376294696736082012-12-14T08:27:00.001-05:002012-12-14T11:57:50.341-05:00Forgiveness is FreedomPlease forgive me for,<br />
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raising my voice.</div>
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reacting in anger.</div>
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making you feel NEVER good enough.</div>
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controlling your every interaction.</div>
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putting my "worry" on you.</div>
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expecting you to "arrive".</div>
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making it about me.</div>
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I am praying that these reactions turn into,<br />
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A gentle answer.</div>
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A kind and patient response.</div>
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The assurance that although we can't do anything to earn God's favor, he Loves, Protects, and Forgives us in spite of ourselves.</div>
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Letting you make mistakes and be hurt and trust that you will always know, I am a safe place to come to in those times.</div>
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"Trusting in the Lord with all my heart. . ."</div>
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Remembering we are all a work in progress. A slow, painful, and beautiful progress.</div>
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Making it about God's glory and purpose in your life, my life, our lives.</div>
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Remember this, </div>
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God in His great mercy does not leave us to our own end. He is always teaching, stripping us down, and building us back up. Sometimes the lessons come easily. Sometimes we aren't surprised by the road he takes us down. But sometimes the lessons turn your world upside down, throwing you around like the waves of the angry ocean. You see clearly how deep you are in the ocean of yourself, drowning in your sin. In these times, it will be easy to feel hopeless, dead. But we do have a hope. A hope that comes, not our ourselves or anything we can do, but all from the sacrifice of Jesus, our Savior.</div>
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Here is our truth,</div>
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"The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came in to the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of ages, immortal, invisible, the ONLY God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen." </div>
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1 Timothy 1: 15-17 </div>
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<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-88810159577730207012012-09-05T10:53:00.000-04:002012-09-05T10:53:11.273-04:00I am your mom. I am your teacher.I am your mom. I carried you for 9 months. I gave birth to you. I nursed you, rocked you, sang to you. I hold you when you are sick. Give you medicine, rub your back, and tell you everything is going to be ok. I listen to you when you are sad, scared, and silly. <br />
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I want to give you everything, but everything is not what you need. I want to make your life easy, but an easy life isn't doing you or the world any favors. I want to let you skate by, because if I'm honest, it's easier for me to NOT ask you for your best.<br />
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I love that you have a nurturing heart that is such a surprise in your personality.<br />
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I love that you have a real life hero that you look at with stars in your eyes.<br />
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I love your laugh and all the ways you make us all smile.<br />
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I love your selfless heart, always thinking of your family and friends before yourself.<br />
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I love your love of organization and order.<br />
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I love you, all.<br />
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I am so lucky to see all these things in you all, everyday. <br />
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Not only am I your mom. . .<br />
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I am your teacher.<br />
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These two role are hard to distinguish for me. I know now, they are hard for you to distinguish too. I am sorry this is confusing. I'm sorry that because I'm your teacher, some days, I don't want to be your mom. I'm sorry that because I'm your teacher, you take my "teaching" as disappointment. I am sorry that sometimes, because I'm your mom, I talk to you in ways a teacher NEVER would.<br />
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Although there are things I am sorry for, there are many more I am THANKFUL for. I am thankful that I get to teach you to read, write, add. I am thankful that I get to be apart of your "ah-ha" moments. I am thankful that I get to watch you teach each other, not just school lessons, but life lessons as well. I am thankful that daddy is the "principle" of our school and encourages and challenges us all. I am thankful that I get to see the VAST differences in all of you. From the way you learn, to the way you communicate, to the way you love. I get to be a part of it everyday. I am so blessed.<br />
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My children, we are blessed. Blessed beyond anything we deserve. Blessed to be each other's lives, all day. I know, sometimes it doesn't feel like a blessing. Oh, but it is. I thank God for the time I have with you because I know it is short. Too short. So in this short time I pray that as your mom and teacher I will honor God in raising, teaching, and guiding you. I pray that "we, being rooted and established love, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">may have power, together with all the saints,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="" name="1"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> to grasp how wide and long and high and deep</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="" name="2"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> is the love of Christ, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">and to know this love that surpasses knowledge</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="" name="1"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">--that you may be filled</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="" name="2"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">to the measure of all the fullness of God." Because, beyond your education in reading, writing, and arithmetic, knowing Christ is the most important knowledge you will obtain in your lifetime. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> This is what it's about.</span>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-68027104529162352312012-06-09T09:21:00.000-04:002012-06-09T09:21:33.204-04:00Toddler Baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My baby, is not a baby.</div>
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My baby, is 100% into her toddler years.</div>
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My baby, with attitude abounding.</div>
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My baby is potty trained. . .</div>
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dresses herself. . .</div>
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and can pump herself on the swing.</div>
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This is weird. And wonderful. And weird.</div>
<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-26922235310714197262012-06-04T16:16:00.000-04:002012-06-04T16:16:07.324-04:00Learning to be a FriendI was glad I had my sunglasses on. My welled up tears were hidden from view. There's no question what the tears were in response to. In part, they were for my daughter, who opened up her heart with such raw truth and the words that poured out made me feel angry and protective. The other part was in understanding all too well how she was feeling.<br />
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I know exactly the feeling she had when she tried to include herself into a group (clique) of girls, only to be ignored. The word she used was sad, but lets be honest, that's not a strong enough word. I know exactly how she feels when she asks another girl about her weekend, only to be given a short nod and a face turned away. The words she used were, left-out. But again, we all know that the feelings are so much stronger than the words can describe. <br />
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We've all been treated badly by other girls. I know many women who still find self-worth in making other people feel bad about themselves. That's another blog for another day. <br />
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"Love your neighbor as yourself" has never been so clearly illustrated as it was that day. As we talked through her feelings, her reactions, and how she can pray, I was so proud of her. She is strong and beautiful. We both know that this won't be that last time it happens. More importantly, she is more aware of her own "mean" streak. As I type, she is uniting the neighborhood girls, who normally have a hard time with one girl or another. I can't help but think that she is really thinking about her words and actions because of the impact of our conversation yesterday. Growing pains are hard. With my girls I am hoping that with each trial and painful friendship experience I can help them to see how they can be better friends.<br />
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Here are a couple of the life lessons that were reinforced yesterday:<br />
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*Treat others the way you want to be treated.<br />
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*You can't change/control other people, you can only change/control your reaction.<br />
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*People WILL hurt you. It is important to confront in love, forgive, and move on.<br />
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*You WILL hurt people. You are responsible to be humble and teachable when trying to reconcile with them.<br />
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*Pray for those who hurt you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXD6vGkJlBFG9VSi5IGm99zal7Rvm3JBb9d1OEz9uzAUtOLPdL3GEUmZZjzdSEN8h1JsyE8aQwNmI5Etu3R5RE7IzO39ze-TUMNVbFUVY4TcgWH8REyfGunmi6Vubqh-X_PXKt/s1600/IMG_8234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXD6vGkJlBFG9VSi5IGm99zal7Rvm3JBb9d1OEz9uzAUtOLPdL3GEUmZZjzdSEN8h1JsyE8aQwNmI5Etu3R5RE7IzO39ze-TUMNVbFUVY4TcgWH8REyfGunmi6Vubqh-X_PXKt/s320/IMG_8234.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
I am so proud of you Olivia Joy. You truly are a strong and loyal friend. I am so thankful that you are letting me know you and aren't afraid of your feelings or of growing up. This isn't going to be easy. Be patient with me as I stumble through this parenting role. May we both rest in the arms of Jesus through the good and bad.<br />
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<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-55844157258194963642012-05-29T10:07:00.002-04:002012-05-29T10:07:30.557-04:00Camp Crisp<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Camp Crisp 2012 has officially started today! For the past week we have been compiling lists of jobs, writing ideas, and research ideas for the kids to keep their bodies and brains active this summer. Amidst the pool days, park days, and beach days we will have many days at home when boredom WILL set in. This is our family attempt at staying busy and having fun all at the same time.</div>
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Here are the kids charts for the next 4 weeks. Each time they complete an activity, they will put that letter in the day it was done. For each activity they complete they get $.25. We plan on teaching them about saving and tithing through this too.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmXpRscoOidVLh93w5seELfMUggpPC37kY55TnYxlwbshF9U6D9EL13rKTOE4dIalaJidXzdVSqgyEzqKqm-9hcKLVGBBF95iP7yFCVBN2JlTIAIwVO253rOdhNqIxKsgI0-k/s1600/IMG_8430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmXpRscoOidVLh93w5seELfMUggpPC37kY55TnYxlwbshF9U6D9EL13rKTOE4dIalaJidXzdVSqgyEzqKqm-9hcKLVGBBF95iP7yFCVBN2JlTIAIwVO253rOdhNqIxKsgI0-k/s320/IMG_8430.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Here are the 6 activities that they can complete each day. Read, Write, Physical Activity, Practice, Home, and Extra. We have extensive lists of suggestions for Writing, Jobs around the house, and research ideas as an Extra activity.</div>
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Hopefully, this will be the first of many blogs recording our Camp Crisp adventure. Here we go!</div>
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<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-55629884787704155202012-05-16T08:11:00.000-04:002012-05-16T08:11:18.443-04:00A Prayer for my KidsOne sings with passion while the other stands emitting an energy of annoyance. One in my arms while the other wiggles from seat to seat. One stands, trying to follow the crowd, all the while fighting the true desire to sit and draw pictures.<br />
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I stand, sing, raise my hands, close my eyes, always keeping an eye on the five wiggly worms around me. I glance around at the joy and praise coming from others. I look down at my five, wondering, "What are they thinking? What did I think when I was a child? Why is this one so angry? Why is that one NOT singing? Is the passion going to last?"<br />
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I stop.</div>
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I pray. </div>
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I sing. </div>
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I pray some more.</div>
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Oh Lord, these souls that are here, let them not be lost. These words, may they penetrate these hearts. May they have 10,000 Reasons to sing Your praise. May they praise You, What a Savior. May they have their Happy Day, when Jesus washed their sins away. May they run into the arms of Jesus and may He always be enough.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-45934398935089228582012-05-08T20:52:00.000-04:002012-05-08T20:52:00.137-04:00Gideon is a Gymnast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Check out my little gymnast. </div>
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Gideon has been working on solidifying his headstand. For the first couple of days he would fall over soon after putting his legs up. But because of his consistent practice he can now stand on his head for a long amount of time.</div>
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I think he's pretty awesome.</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-39785808868314514442012-04-25T22:34:00.000-04:002012-04-25T22:34:04.058-04:00Fearfully and Wonderfully<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
These two girls are different.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9JORaloOwlfEDeU61-dogwSJyrZ9UNbDCEvyoZjGWdwmqPmZQtt79OuQjJL9zfVkJpshpQQw0gBWWPVYFpOctwbUvp-ViK6MTOaW-qN7G5WKwyl6flrl2fTrcyw9DTN6eLua/s1600/IMG_7500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9JORaloOwlfEDeU61-dogwSJyrZ9UNbDCEvyoZjGWdwmqPmZQtt79OuQjJL9zfVkJpshpQQw0gBWWPVYFpOctwbUvp-ViK6MTOaW-qN7G5WKwyl6flrl2fTrcyw9DTN6eLua/s320/IMG_7500.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Different and so wonderful.</div>
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This girl is a ballerina. She likes to have a say in what she is wearing, and if she could, would wear a skirt or dress everyday. She loves her long hair and to have it styled. She is sensitive, a peacemaker, and a cuddle bug. She loves having lots of friends around to play with and sees the best in everyone. This girl, when going on a date with her daddy, asked me to brush her (very knotty) hair and to put it in a side ponytail. This girl wanted to change her earrings to the "hoops" for her date. </div>
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This girl is fearfully and wonderfully made.</div>
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This girl is sure of who she is. This girl doesn't care what she's wearing, as long as it's comfortable. This girl likes to wear jeans everyday, even on Sunday (good thing her mom does too!). This girl doesn't care what she looks like, she's confident in who she is. Dirt on her face? Who cares! Hair a mess? Who cares? This girl is loyal. Her closest friends are important and treasured in her heart. This girl joyfully cares for all her younger siblings and cousins. This girl, when going on a date with her daddy, refused a hair brushing and style. This girl didn't change a thing about her appearance, and she was HAPPY. </div>
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This girl is fearfully and wonderfully made.</div>
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I love your differences. I love who God made each of you. I love you, my girls.</div>
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<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-12067694243814590782012-04-15T14:34:00.001-04:002012-04-15T14:47:44.311-04:00My Job<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3_Y-DaBm84XqTY-60KJ2ZUy_fhwS7H5Gae6YV6rvucZ6hoBbrsTKXkf8sFNsm3TANzSjvr0VfCGMzO2pa8KhY1wxAZf-PzsbzgjTHOw6j3qdN-JlO_MyeQK2IKu9uVxFIfXX/s1600/IMG_7979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3_Y-DaBm84XqTY-60KJ2ZUy_fhwS7H5Gae6YV6rvucZ6hoBbrsTKXkf8sFNsm3TANzSjvr0VfCGMzO2pa8KhY1wxAZf-PzsbzgjTHOw6j3qdN-JlO_MyeQK2IKu9uVxFIfXX/s320/IMG_7979.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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I love my job. I know who I work for. My boss give chance after chance, never threatening to fire me. When the work place is a mess, I am not put down. When my attitude is selfish, I am gently reminded of my necessity to serve. When I don't see eye to eye with my co-worker, there is confrontation, correction and reconciliation. When I'm frustrated with my subordinates, my boss listens and fills in the gaps, coming to my rescue when I need Him most. When I feel like I'm failing at my job, my boss exudes abounding grace. My boss is ever patient and true. <br />
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In light of all that my boss has done for me, how can I give any less to my co-worker and subordinates?<br />
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I may not bring home a paycheck for my work, but feel blessed beyond what I deserve to be able to do what I do. The hearts and lives of the future generation are in my care. <br />
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As I work each day, I pray that in my successes and failures, my children will see our Savior. I know my work is not in vain and cannot be done in my own strength. May the seeds I sow reap a harvest that enables generations to see our great God, serve Him, and believe in His saving grace.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-77362504694163757452012-04-02T21:36:00.001-04:002012-04-02T21:48:39.012-04:00Gushing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgku_-2ZhOEKY1Bz8peoczpH26cD_ac9u2C7LeOEW9oMkeKxGxIf1TsBbn5SHIbDpN1hHDyiNt5DPTHkHm_aTOuYQYTEblcVYZCFAJUwkrTj0NKb3BOTXRlOQDlbIBMeH21Tegm/s1600/IMG_7852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgku_-2ZhOEKY1Bz8peoczpH26cD_ac9u2C7LeOEW9oMkeKxGxIf1TsBbn5SHIbDpN1hHDyiNt5DPTHkHm_aTOuYQYTEblcVYZCFAJUwkrTj0NKb3BOTXRlOQDlbIBMeH21Tegm/s320/IMG_7852.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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I'm having these new feelings. I have this strong desire to be around and gush over my newest niece and nephew. Don't get me wrong, I've always been excited about all my nieces and nephews but this time is different. <br />
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Not because they are twins. <br />
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Not because they live a couple blocks away.<br />
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And for almost a week I've been wondering where this "gushing" is coming from.<br />
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I finally figured it out tonight as I sat, winding down from my day.<br />
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I don't have a baby anymore. <br />
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I get a lump in my throat thinking about that. I said this week that I don't need to have anymore babies, because my sisters are still having babies and will give me my baby fix. <br />
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I said it, now I FEEL it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqbpg4mn5S1LeA0cF1oDPJ257VJxvOXCLMbW1lslGCQtkfjYHZbd_lBpRW8ozf-iLgunqOzmFA3mAcD6-kGDf7ykDe-oN_yhx947DEwr9FD5KYE_2cOfPz0dBax3HWd2RBHgN/s1600/Photo+on+2012-03-30+at+11.17+%232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqbpg4mn5S1LeA0cF1oDPJ257VJxvOXCLMbW1lslGCQtkfjYHZbd_lBpRW8ozf-iLgunqOzmFA3mAcD6-kGDf7ykDe-oN_yhx947DEwr9FD5KYE_2cOfPz0dBax3HWd2RBHgN/s320/Photo+on+2012-03-30+at+11.17+%232.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Declan love.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbEMNnbXiCIniif7gToNRduJRIDreceqInPojVFiXN4xSGDYd-Yc0bKJ3mHizWUzo2vuRYvCYjbUus0b7P2aE9Ow039Sw2mg6CSd5S7GMslDkpH5ZYxKJp2N-7NNb4OlnMpJF/s1600/IMG_7841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbEMNnbXiCIniif7gToNRduJRIDreceqInPojVFiXN4xSGDYd-Yc0bKJ3mHizWUzo2vuRYvCYjbUus0b7P2aE9Ow039Sw2mg6CSd5S7GMslDkpH5ZYxKJp2N-7NNb4OlnMpJF/s320/IMG_7841.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Knox and Parker baby fix.</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-67287604281205771272012-03-24T13:43:00.001-04:002012-03-25T21:11:47.938-04:00Mr. R.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5_4PpRj8zh43VntCVHB7OsMvmIcVu1JqK3gUYTUFRvrPr-vmSRBG-mgVaI8j0x5X4FkuX8EYNbeJMSAyDV482a8NLuxnhID9NI_6h2LmmGdt_ZQGx_0cNCkB5TMHGw0y8ExA/s1600/IMG_7796.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5_4PpRj8zh43VntCVHB7OsMvmIcVu1JqK3gUYTUFRvrPr-vmSRBG-mgVaI8j0x5X4FkuX8EYNbeJMSAyDV482a8NLuxnhID9NI_6h2LmmGdt_ZQGx_0cNCkB5TMHGw0y8ExA/s320/IMG_7796.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>He walked from his car, scowling. His eyes could pierce right though you. Other than his coming and going to work, I didn't see him. He was never outside playing with the family. <br />
<br />
For 23 years he was intimidating, scary, unapproachable.<br />
<br />
He shuffles down the block smoking his cigarettes, flipping his lighter. He comments on the weather. Asks about Josh's job. Compliments our choice to homeschool. Complains about the township. Asks about our straw garden, my opinion on children's toys, and home improvement projects.<br />
<br />
All this with a smile on his face. I'm confused.<br />
<br />
For the past 2 years, Mr. R. has baffled me. He has been just the break this tired mama needs some days. Some days the break comes in the form of a photo taking lesson. Other days the break is him letting my 5 monkeys play in his backyard for 30 minutes or talking to them as he takes his walks around the neighborhood. <br />
<br />
On Garrett's birthday he brought a card down for him with 5 dollars in it. He calls Garrett, Roadrunner. I like it. It's all too appropriate.<br />
<br />
I don't know what changed him. Maybe it was retirement. Maybe it was a couple of gorgeous granddaughters.<br />
<br />
Whatever it is, Mr. R. is proof that you don't have to get grouchier with age and that you're never too old to change. Just a couple of good things to remember.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-1398232898550918322012-03-17T08:33:00.000-04:002012-03-17T08:33:26.968-04:00Garrett is 8Garrett,<br />
<br />
Today you turn 8. <br />
<br />
Can you stop growing? I don't want you to be taller than me, and that will be happening sooner than you think.<br />
<br />
Your loyalty and unconditional love of others is inspiring. You are always meeting new people, no one is above you.<br />
<br />
You love to read the Bible, something daddy and I haven't pushed on you, but something you enjoy doing all on your own. You often call me over to read a verse or two that has spoken to you. You often want to share your readings with your class at church, this is such a blessing. Daddy and I continue to pray that you will always have a desire to know God more.<br />
<br />
You are a math WIZ! You're brain just gets it, something my brain doesn't do. I am daily blown away at how easily math comes to you. I am excited to see where this takes you!<br />
<br />
You are the best hugger I know. This is another way that you make people feel important. A smile and a hug go a long way in this world.<br />
<br />
People are drawn to you buddy. Babies, toddlers, kids your own age, kids older than you, teenagers, adults. You are endearing, funny, and genuine. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq8CQP5_t9h0icyR5KprNRewjBE8rppXeByEV8fqSaJ9o1wskjCPT53IcD2fmvjzwzQxigbXRE-QF1i4nk68bGloQuvI_HxnjzBxFKMfE5J9I8r_bSMiBZLrIVPIBntlU1CHUh/s1600/IMG_5478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq8CQP5_t9h0icyR5KprNRewjBE8rppXeByEV8fqSaJ9o1wskjCPT53IcD2fmvjzwzQxigbXRE-QF1i4nk68bGloQuvI_HxnjzBxFKMfE5J9I8r_bSMiBZLrIVPIBntlU1CHUh/s320/IMG_5478.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Birthday Garrett. I am blessed to be your mom.</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-50135362999400936782012-03-06T09:26:00.000-05:002012-03-06T09:26:10.848-05:00Math Class<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There are times when I wonder what craziness got into us and made us choose homeschooling for our family. There are days when I am one phone call away from enrolling them in school. There many, many times when I beat myself up because I feel that I am failing them as their educator. Are they learning what they need to be learning to keep up with their peers? Are they learning as quickly as their peers? There are MANY days like this. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This morning is different. This morning is a wonderful reminder of the benefits of homeschooling. As I sat, drinking my coffee, Gideon ran over to me with a hand full of toys and said, "Mom, watch!" He then took two of the toys in his hand and began counting, "2, 4, 6! I can count by twos!!" A smile is plastered to my face and I don't think it can get any bigger, until I look just beyond Gideon to find Garrett grinning from ear to ear. When I catch his eye he says, "I taught him to count by twos." I'm not sure who was the proudest of the three of us. . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9z4_D0vG_mWIoLIs_6v-LS0v63TK3z6M7soxfg2JNOOmE5gn4M1WSMNLqwm5Eef-MFIgl7Ln52uQ4WiKmXvQXMaUEsDDrUphZta1N2vLoZ9qb40XLoS5Gieg5zsAXdzDa4oYA/s1600/IMG_7760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9z4_D0vG_mWIoLIs_6v-LS0v63TK3z6M7soxfg2JNOOmE5gn4M1WSMNLqwm5Eef-MFIgl7Ln52uQ4WiKmXvQXMaUEsDDrUphZta1N2vLoZ9qb40XLoS5Gieg5zsAXdzDa4oYA/s320/IMG_7760.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Math Class</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Today's Lesson - Counting by 2's.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dress code - Shirtless. </div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-63879314653946513412012-02-24T12:10:00.001-05:002012-02-24T12:18:46.909-05:00Gentleness vs. Wrath<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You know the old proverb, "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up dissension."? It takes on a whole new meaning when you are a parent. Frustration, annoyance, and anger can all bring out words and tones that stir up wrath and dissension rather than gentleness and guidance. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As a mom who home schools, babysits, and has a toddler and a preschooler running around, I can often be found in a state of exasperation. My voice gest louder and louder with every infraction. I am so over my sinful self. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In an effort to hold myself accountable and teach my children a better way to communicate, I have come up with this idea. Every time I "lose" it (all you moms know what I'm talking about), I have to stop (Immediately!) and go write the verse in our notebook. Every time a child speaks with harshness and frustration, they too must go to the notebook and claim the truth through writing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We've only been doing it for a day and a half now, but it's really been great. Not great in the sense that I've stopped flying off the handle (hey, we're all al work in progress!), but great in the sense that it does curb my tirade. I have actually stopped my harsh speak in the middle of it and gone to the notebook to write the verse. The kids have also taken to it well. A few of them have been honest about times that I didn't hear the offense and come to me to confess and do their writing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is the first page of our writing exercise. In one day, this page was marked by every member of the house who can write. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFba0JxNDt6ykeQ6wPr6duz_Av4qFzVO8NjduspomeXbC9ocpifwtsJ82GQGhsW6V_4aVFui47Lgov83XeruJFQs9yZ9QmaoHO06akwiH3kD4uGnS0bWv45nQV_4WIWb0tRycr/s1600/IMG_7683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFba0JxNDt6ykeQ6wPr6duz_Av4qFzVO8NjduspomeXbC9ocpifwtsJ82GQGhsW6V_4aVFui47Lgov83XeruJFQs9yZ9QmaoHO06akwiH3kD4uGnS0bWv45nQV_4WIWb0tRycr/s320/IMG_7683.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">As you can see, I am the first 5 offenses! </div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVVccBpmJhi1Xrp0hzfelBicaiqcr3JraBJJxQ-JuErTmKscD3OUzF16oUifOwBMZQNGE0XQmerMXs93RadI362n9XniHR_-WndYJjkSB9FQDZkb393Fd_Chubz480Uj2wMXP/s1600/IMG_7684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVVccBpmJhi1Xrp0hzfelBicaiqcr3JraBJJxQ-JuErTmKscD3OUzF16oUifOwBMZQNGE0XQmerMXs93RadI362n9XniHR_-WndYJjkSB9FQDZkb393Fd_Chubz480Uj2wMXP/s320/IMG_7684.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
What do you do to stop yourself from losing control in a frustrating situation? Please share your ideas!!Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-37814894764959397092012-02-21T18:13:00.000-05:002012-02-21T18:13:33.750-05:00Many Hands, Many Feet.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I recently posted this picture on Facebook, with the caption, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Many hands. Full hearts. We are blessed."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMd4jabpmSiKFfGOVeQektozfJtzGQL6bpg9ZSLOhZMgHyu9av1BeryjiSEAuOTR9EOXfAn8m-dcmjD6yI2JmQIMydOj3ih9weUlT2X2zja9N-0aUMoyLitQXZFKGqWBMTrh1u/s1600/IMG_7598.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMd4jabpmSiKFfGOVeQektozfJtzGQL6bpg9ZSLOhZMgHyu9av1BeryjiSEAuOTR9EOXfAn8m-dcmjD6yI2JmQIMydOj3ih9weUlT2X2zja9N-0aUMoyLitQXZFKGqWBMTrh1u/s320/IMG_7598.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I do not deny the sentiment of that. We ARE SO blessed with our children. But do you know what all those hands also have?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Wait for it. . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Two feet!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOg9Kint9GEvhRvASQRyc49yEKKPoQqZwgMComN3-E7yPAIpyP6b-WjQihrnyt1qQsPUXOyTAVdPE6hjKXIt4OSrKYDQkKR-I706XVOlUsuLKkjy-mwgVDjU62cVbKls68LK1/s1600/IMG_7576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOg9Kint9GEvhRvASQRyc49yEKKPoQqZwgMComN3-E7yPAIpyP6b-WjQihrnyt1qQsPUXOyTAVdPE6hjKXIt4OSrKYDQkKR-I706XVOlUsuLKkjy-mwgVDjU62cVbKls68LK1/s320/IMG_7576.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is the collection from 2 days of shoes from my beautiful cherubs. They can usually be found, under the kitchen table, inside the back door, mismatched all over the living room and periodically in their rightful home, a shoe bin in the kids' room.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">What other things go with all these shoes? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Do you know? Can you guess?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">That's right, SOCKS!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3czPdF6a0Q3vzyo3feRiZQ4tsLA_9UDSVWExQAaLbVvuv955lFepWX2fUBxODiLCwVpj13ym5PXCiYugsYoC5znI8R-abpLvI99WN2gUAqnJJ5MbrB0bzGfEVQJYpDEKnsgt/s1600/IMG_7600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3czPdF6a0Q3vzyo3feRiZQ4tsLA_9UDSVWExQAaLbVvuv955lFepWX2fUBxODiLCwVpj13ym5PXCiYugsYoC5znI8R-abpLvI99WN2gUAqnJJ5MbrB0bzGfEVQJYpDEKnsgt/s320/IMG_7600.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> This is the sock collection after one week of laundry is done. I ask you, how is one woman suppose to keep up with all these socks? I am convinced the washing machine, couch, and beds eat socks. How can I compete with that?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is a picture of the same group of socks from above, laid out and matched up for putting away. MANY are missing their match. Some, I'm sure, are tucked away in the clothes drawers waiting for their partner. Other's have succumbed to the life of singleness.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8W9xvd3gNCjutScLDaReo58KmMQuqVRz1oidIwRbchqaiuXGWmF9Anj0_WC5ETqsGTx_OQS7eVQlSka6o5g7WxzMBkJ3ZNxDbNgmTsLLt3Ju_DAcKL4bUgKWp8ASCmXaUtqt/s1600/IMG_7603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8W9xvd3gNCjutScLDaReo58KmMQuqVRz1oidIwRbchqaiuXGWmF9Anj0_WC5ETqsGTx_OQS7eVQlSka6o5g7WxzMBkJ3ZNxDbNgmTsLLt3Ju_DAcKL4bUgKWp8ASCmXaUtqt/s320/IMG_7603.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is flip flop weather yet?</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-22229428374797306922012-02-17T15:14:00.000-05:002012-02-17T15:14:13.328-05:00Confession<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuQ-EsjkO4bEWh4Fvq6rN42QkRkStcey-ZWNtD84-sWy2xnRAKR03wWR9jf8B4hJGxOPb2RIISxFDZcubNrlN4_tmL48XxvrOiGmK3gZUNALz4-_BjG62fKvKrFiLmNxbIxSk/s1600/IMG_7230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuQ-EsjkO4bEWh4Fvq6rN42QkRkStcey-ZWNtD84-sWy2xnRAKR03wWR9jf8B4hJGxOPb2RIISxFDZcubNrlN4_tmL48XxvrOiGmK3gZUNALz4-_BjG62fKvKrFiLmNxbIxSk/s320/IMG_7230.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My oldest and youngest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Olivia and Nora</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was caught off guard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sucker punched.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I really thought the day would never come,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When I would want another baby.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No, this is not an announcement.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is a confession.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">P.S. - Hopefully, this is also the start of me blogging again. I miss it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-81119898053399254342011-06-13T15:39:00.000-04:002011-06-13T15:39:56.440-04:00What's different<div style="text-align: center;">Normally when I have a toddler this age. . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguN9nv2NsBaUsgXqax9s0cixt29Q239_xfrH4tXPPzQLpPmQbTd3jEg5IAc0Lo3_ib-ZzWj1i3fl1OE7im9g3EBoTjmj-eRt-oBsCuMal2ONGIHgO5Lk0bUfUYYzqu22mGwl8n/s1600/IMG_4106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguN9nv2NsBaUsgXqax9s0cixt29Q239_xfrH4tXPPzQLpPmQbTd3jEg5IAc0Lo3_ib-ZzWj1i3fl1OE7im9g3EBoTjmj-eRt-oBsCuMal2ONGIHgO5Lk0bUfUYYzqu22mGwl8n/s320/IMG_4106.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">I look like this.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1CGOzk_ac4_i60MHQpuQrn0kmYMy8CzQRUVn7p6Dy8Gep35voVjevIBlQMyPyfAYMg-Y0BDAQMUQVBh68tX9r_ziMGszZt2NbV5wH9zXrNtDtUEI8QTA93ovsiIcROZueHVRg/s1600/IMG_3972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1CGOzk_ac4_i60MHQpuQrn0kmYMy8CzQRUVn7p6Dy8Gep35voVjevIBlQMyPyfAYMg-Y0BDAQMUQVBh68tX9r_ziMGszZt2NbV5wH9zXrNtDtUEI8QTA93ovsiIcROZueHVRg/s320/IMG_3972.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">But SHE is that age. . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit7sZrKeDbKv4PdGxmIDoVFfT31VbNQ-21_qlIhBXvmxMZvkcKcPeLK0Rh1ZDNW8JZYXVQhhMsaYy0eM5_-qsVop3UYw5MZNDeUhLbqC7p66dlH7zYdqZXwI3rt3oHXRmtwtzZ/s1600/IMG_4968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit7sZrKeDbKv4PdGxmIDoVFfT31VbNQ-21_qlIhBXvmxMZvkcKcPeLK0Rh1ZDNW8JZYXVQhhMsaYy0eM5_-qsVop3UYw5MZNDeUhLbqC7p66dlH7zYdqZXwI3rt3oHXRmtwtzZ/s320/IMG_4968.JPG" width="250" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">And I look like this! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8f0EwLzG37BXnbFWtMVKFBheVJXdlIiy-Flnd-_DQ5Xp9yDLr1bkJT_bmRwebTSKIrFfPOhRunMvTpN7FFcDU2FSrhF8i0lETFCkOLGq-5GRGmW7AqzX8cwjhkXu_-kUqAJh/s1600/IMG_4946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8f0EwLzG37BXnbFWtMVKFBheVJXdlIiy-Flnd-_DQ5Xp9yDLr1bkJT_bmRwebTSKIrFfPOhRunMvTpN7FFcDU2FSrhF8i0lETFCkOLGq-5GRGmW7AqzX8cwjhkXu_-kUqAJh/s320/IMG_4946.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
No, this post isn't about what I look like! It's really about what I don't have growing inside of me. We are about to enter a brand new season. One in which we have never entered before. Soon we will have a 2 year old and NO new born baby. I have to say, I'm not sad about this new season. I can get my "baby" fix via my sisters who are all still makin' babies. Thanks Ange, Corrie and Cheryl! <br />
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There are moments when I look at Nora and think, "She's going to need to be potty trained in the next year, then there will be no more diapers in the house." Part of that does make me sad but the other part of me is happy to have the extra 20 dollars a week for groceries. <br />
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I love that our whole family can take bike rides together. That we can go to the beach for the day without a stroller. I don't need to worry about a baby monitor when I'm outside. I don't have to plan my day around feedings. And many, many more things.<br />
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I will miss the new baby smell. The soothing, only mommy can do. Falling asleep on the couch after a feeding. The first eye contact, smile and giggle.<br />
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Ahhh, but I am so happy we are entering a new phase of life. One that is unfamiliar and exciting. One that, I know, will bring new memories, experiences and opportunities.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-11852202200752701172011-05-20T11:13:00.001-04:002011-05-20T14:35:48.215-04:00BlessedSometimes I look around at the dinner table and I wonder how we got to this? When did we have five kids? These are the days I feel blessed beyond what I deserve. I am thankful for 5 times the laughs, 5 times the I love yous, 5 times the hugs. Children are a blessing from the Lord. They teach me more and more about my need for the Savior and the weaknesses that He saves me from.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-MFqoKhu0L6nhVkLGRdUo-w986QnEeS8858blUh-uZF-0mLGF3ausuOk54S9Hm99wJnEnwPOr2oaog5qG7VNilX8TmCDaYcEGzvzRRAZMPMfC7Eew5Z8QKIp9JcHTFOMRSiw/s1600/IMG_4837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-MFqoKhu0L6nhVkLGRdUo-w986QnEeS8858blUh-uZF-0mLGF3ausuOk54S9Hm99wJnEnwPOr2oaog5qG7VNilX8TmCDaYcEGzvzRRAZMPMfC7Eew5Z8QKIp9JcHTFOMRSiw/s320/IMG_4837.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Crazy dinner time. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJEH3spOpU3uxroi7yEYORMkxPmFbsxIJj4iygFe1GB7kjsL-tJqlkscRVtUE9JJvujy7QNxb5nAVzfxoQL1zWd_7AuPi42dIUoUEufzHf2drliE191KdtP5DRmtBmv11PmZ81/s1600/IMG_4822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJEH3spOpU3uxroi7yEYORMkxPmFbsxIJj4iygFe1GB7kjsL-tJqlkscRVtUE9JJvujy7QNxb5nAVzfxoQL1zWd_7AuPi42dIUoUEufzHf2drliE191KdtP5DRmtBmv11PmZ81/s320/IMG_4822.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora expressing her displeasure with being told no.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-r3J0yZFGBlzPfQtz03NoKdfsveL0MtU6_narPXMvRoML2lRf-_UNzcHwazo_oRNuXXOYf5yQfYZDnkjvPh4A8GmoZsEWv5bY-44VyYNVzxa9A02HS5VF7-xc1KxlCwqpLN0/s1600/IMG_4838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-r3J0yZFGBlzPfQtz03NoKdfsveL0MtU6_narPXMvRoML2lRf-_UNzcHwazo_oRNuXXOYf5yQfYZDnkjvPh4A8GmoZsEWv5bY-44VyYNVzxa9A02HS5VF7-xc1KxlCwqpLN0/s320/IMG_4838.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora cheesing for the camera. As her personality emerges, we are finding that we have a "mini Josh" on our hands. The most like daddy, in personality, of all the kids.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbxTFOzasO6tpBn07heKC0kBlB9xal2phaElDVEYf3t8_ARDIkfAM7vvBSKYYPREW1jTXLIsgf0EDqVHJmUq2yPB0nfdnQUm4e65WRMJjkVSL3PEyPDUbe0sLzgXnfg6lC8Zt/s1600/IMG_4842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbxTFOzasO6tpBn07heKC0kBlB9xal2phaElDVEYf3t8_ARDIkfAM7vvBSKYYPREW1jTXLIsgf0EDqVHJmUq2yPB0nfdnQUm4e65WRMJjkVSL3PEyPDUbe0sLzgXnfg6lC8Zt/s320/IMG_4842.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Esther lives up to her namesake, "A Star". She is 100% girl. She wears dresses everyday. Here she is painting her nails, an almost daily occurrence.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmU011cgOL2INvQPv2P0etB7-3Co7AyMMLLVK1wXR_IwkLmIba02S9ohUkRmwiW2TzUuFX5AKods1WkZ5fz3tKjDXNC_7hVQ7_HJiIkel2a_P57noeFrMcaLYF0VrTiRKqANv/s1600/IMG_4845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmU011cgOL2INvQPv2P0etB7-3Co7AyMMLLVK1wXR_IwkLmIba02S9ohUkRmwiW2TzUuFX5AKods1WkZ5fz3tKjDXNC_7hVQ7_HJiIkel2a_P57noeFrMcaLYF0VrTiRKqANv/s320/IMG_4845.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gideon at 3 1/2, loves to get himself dressed (here his shirt is backwards), ride his bike, and play ball.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCZL6dpsUE_gVyxaT6b-nStewtqAB0IQYvJKraCBwwS8h-A9xtXIe73-ee1mSh4wJsPCJpGOmRnwEJjFAdfiNbnybLjkHZ3PV0wHk4FV1MNnKI_KWvhm5VMyTtvNZqhfaNdZQ/s1600/IMG_4846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCZL6dpsUE_gVyxaT6b-nStewtqAB0IQYvJKraCBwwS8h-A9xtXIe73-ee1mSh4wJsPCJpGOmRnwEJjFAdfiNbnybLjkHZ3PV0wHk4FV1MNnKI_KWvhm5VMyTtvNZqhfaNdZQ/s320/IMG_4846.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Garrett has always done these mosaic drawings. As he gets older, they get more detailed and creative. I'm excited to see where this passion takes him. This one was for dad and mom (although, you can't see my name b/c it's written in pencil. I guess I was an afterthought.).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhptdKcF_3Mdo203OA1Q2e4zK-QGctuiw6LgnDf25n5VjrL_j2xRAgFxAWEMBs_GxAKryvBIly_64CvXdAgy63d4WufnUga0K2_uuU_mfkvvDh82zNu81p10uqq02tti2PtRj/s1600/IMG_4847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhptdKcF_3Mdo203OA1Q2e4zK-QGctuiw6LgnDf25n5VjrL_j2xRAgFxAWEMBs_GxAKryvBIly_64CvXdAgy63d4WufnUga0K2_uuU_mfkvvDh82zNu81p10uqq02tti2PtRj/s320/IMG_4847.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHmmhzzuLA5RAJ8Bi5G2R3KNBXH1h1BiQJ5d5OoBVmQhuJxl5OI92otQRpyeZ2luGK1aOaanm2qEIeJFQ0rQArQor9VVm4OWwpmVVc3n47RiUUL3qLVoFqal6nbwqPdO7T3BR/s1600/IMG_4848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHmmhzzuLA5RAJ8Bi5G2R3KNBXH1h1BiQJ5d5OoBVmQhuJxl5OI92otQRpyeZ2luGK1aOaanm2qEIeJFQ0rQArQor9VVm4OWwpmVVc3n47RiUUL3qLVoFqal6nbwqPdO7T3BR/s320/IMG_4848.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The kids have been listening to the Narnia books on CD at night before bed. They are currently on the final book, The Last Battle. Here Olivia drew the 4 children from the stories and Aslan. </div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-63520982356891596842011-03-31T15:49:00.000-04:002011-03-31T15:49:17.866-04:00The latest on school, life and the kidsSchool for us is almost out. 6 weeks and counting - and I can't tell you how excited I am about it! As I sit here nose, fingers and toes ice cold, I am dreaming of summer. <br />
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Beach days.<br />
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Pool days.<br />
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Hours and hours outside.<br />
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Grilling out every night.<br />
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Bike rides, roller blades, swings and slides.<br />
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New this year, will be hours spent at the baseball field, cheering on Garrett.<br />
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The kids are just as antsy for summer as I am. At dinner every night Gideon prays this prayer:<br />
"Dear Jesus, help us love each other and that we can go to the beach. Amen."<br />
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Here's the latest pictures of the kids. Growing up so fast and so beautifully. I thank God for them everyday.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_mL6VEHehYTixjmUhy-EoyhF-h3V7dFWHffWRmbFOFz8SyjT6FzlPMrsnypyW8xM5_vDrPGphro_t2tyRruH7bR-ZCZgL6DWXh48V0JezCZ-AwifhPkbr49nrrmhr0cxrmtU/s1600/IMG_4333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_mL6VEHehYTixjmUhy-EoyhF-h3V7dFWHffWRmbFOFz8SyjT6FzlPMrsnypyW8xM5_vDrPGphro_t2tyRruH7bR-ZCZgL6DWXh48V0JezCZ-AwifhPkbr49nrrmhr0cxrmtU/s320/IMG_4333.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here's Gideon ready for the beach (and a fight). </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdfMqH6BkGxf_rsVR-627ytghrAiQELvq3W-fkjeIAwRL5CsLrsTacWyyrThmpwV9-GpNEdblcY0G0dI1kwYCHnohDWSyQA1FPOuoIg26m5QNZg-FxrmEQxjPhXzMxQyt90rl/s1600/IMG_4381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdfMqH6BkGxf_rsVR-627ytghrAiQELvq3W-fkjeIAwRL5CsLrsTacWyyrThmpwV9-GpNEdblcY0G0dI1kwYCHnohDWSyQA1FPOuoIg26m5QNZg-FxrmEQxjPhXzMxQyt90rl/s320/IMG_4381.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Garrett - such a great kid. We are really excited to enjoy baseball with him this season. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fEEOBCzrV5yCaLzVsj1fBP1o9I8MkwawM-B2cX5Q_5E_xrxDxXTuADsY1pGc8Oxiau9aZ6tR4iepwLI0hP4LwtGrD3jyCZTc10B2AdBFfEfIuF36W1otRAGoTIRW3hCeauz4/s1600/IMG_4435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fEEOBCzrV5yCaLzVsj1fBP1o9I8MkwawM-B2cX5Q_5E_xrxDxXTuADsY1pGc8Oxiau9aZ6tR4iepwLI0hP4LwtGrD3jyCZTc10B2AdBFfEfIuF36W1otRAGoTIRW3hCeauz4/s320/IMG_4435.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora, loving Garrett's helmet. She does the greatest "daddy dance" when Josh gets home. Her love for him melts my heart. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-Jr9zI0aHYPBNz2Kx93hz2Wf7xmsdFXdZPtXwArXRQWb8qws4t827AWyDiRDQepw1EjKaq3CORP6YKXLlt4TfZSbE5YfNkdw3cOkpm6YQDMwUZLxPQ-fhwzUWHNDSdHxhGkS/s1600/IMG_4301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-Jr9zI0aHYPBNz2Kx93hz2Wf7xmsdFXdZPtXwArXRQWb8qws4t827AWyDiRDQepw1EjKaq3CORP6YKXLlt4TfZSbE5YfNkdw3cOkpm6YQDMwUZLxPQ-fhwzUWHNDSdHxhGkS/s320/IMG_4301.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Olivia with her cousin, Avery. Olivia is great with the littler girls. She loves to read and play with them. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinppbpgwAv6ID5wOQBwub0uXeWlfljn_QYT87UXADiQ9BtOS4XUZW1D0zBLTwwU-tMe4hjhzINNJAIUCbfSv8SodgLAjKKsplFHzjqyWQCWRAqPKZ_y6i_0b044xVAFkKafwVd/s1600/IMG_4347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinppbpgwAv6ID5wOQBwub0uXeWlfljn_QYT87UXADiQ9BtOS4XUZW1D0zBLTwwU-tMe4hjhzINNJAIUCbfSv8SodgLAjKKsplFHzjqyWQCWRAqPKZ_y6i_0b044xVAFkKafwVd/s320/IMG_4347.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My little princess, Esther. Everyday she needs to know if she's going to be able to play outside, because it dictates whether she gets to wear a skirt or not. As girly as she is, she is BY FAR the dirtiest kid at the end of the day!! </div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-22005930908963006602011-03-17T15:37:00.000-04:002011-03-17T15:37:10.840-04:00Garrett turns 7Intensity, passion, extreme. These are the words that describe you Garrett. You certainly took his time coming into the world 7 years ago. 3 days late and 2 hours of pushing, our 8 lb. 9 oz. baby boy was born. You have forever changed the way I love. Your affection and intense desire to love deeply and and as hard as you can drives me to love in ways that stretch what I am comfortable doing.<br />
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You are the first person to greet strangers, high five buddies, and hug/hang on all available family members. You are learning how to be a friend. How to love people before yourself. And are quick to remind me when I need to pray about MY attitude. Thank you bud.<br />
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You initiate school on your own. You love math and anything that has to do with numbers. You work hard to get things done but also like to get it done quickly. Sometimes that's not a good combination but most of the time that means you get school done first!!<br />
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You are becoming a better reader and are not discouraged when you come up to a word you don't know. You show perseverance in phonics and spelling. A great attribute.<br />
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You are my best running buddy. You love to ride your bike along with me while I run. You don't like when I go across the bridge, you think it's going to fall. You've been asking me lately if you can run too. I know you think you're fast enough, but right now the bike will have to do. Thanks for talking to me and just keeping me company.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF0Xa-5dW_DlBgyfvGVx7TkXf0a3lHHnDbI-lGr1Qn2UlCIBG_omCJRmq_o4xDsyo7hnMpxuFMXia71kZoYioHuQPx6VFhNo3Y8Bqwed8B0O_DaAZ6gw1AoexseXLzIqE2wHFG/s1600/IMG_3854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF0Xa-5dW_DlBgyfvGVx7TkXf0a3lHHnDbI-lGr1Qn2UlCIBG_omCJRmq_o4xDsyo7hnMpxuFMXia71kZoYioHuQPx6VFhNo3Y8Bqwed8B0O_DaAZ6gw1AoexseXLzIqE2wHFG/s320/IMG_3854.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> I love you dude.</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-33901052730307947152011-02-25T08:58:00.000-05:002011-02-25T08:58:10.813-05:00Two yearsThings change. <br />
<br />
Things stay the same.<br />
<br />
The themes of the last two years. <br />
<br />
February 18th marked our two year anniversary of moving to New Jersey. Honestly, I still don't know what's going on. I have no idea where God is taking us - what the next step is - or when change is going to come.<br />
<br />
Here's what I do know. As frustrating as it is to be in a hold pattern for the last two years, I believe that God's future plan for us is better than the immediate gratification of what I think we need. I have faith that this journey is to get us ready for God's perfect plan, not Jess's. I am challenged daily to sit and wait. I want to wait as faithfully and patiently as Joseph. I mean, come on, he was given a clear vision of what his future would look like. Yet as his life twisted and turned in ways that seemed to not move in line with what he knew, he didn't falter. He didn't get angry when he was sold as a slave. He didn't ask "why?" every day he was in prison after being falsely accused. He didn't pray for his future, telling God how to get him there. He didn't wonder. He didn't break. <br />
<br />
Here's the other thing I know. We are healing. Our family at Sovereign Grace Church has been the most amazing support, encouragement, and life line we could have asked for. We are being challenged to see our sin. We are growing in care for others. We are growing in our love for the God who controls everything. Challenged to take that love out. Share it. Live it. For real.<br />
<br />
I know that without moving here I would have never home schooled the kids. I know that for our family this is the best option for us. I know that I am being stretched and my relationships with my kids are growing deeper because of our choice to home school. I am so grateful to get to stay home and influence their lives 24/7. A lot of days it's exhausting. By 6pm, I'm done. I am learning to put aside my desires and wants, not just for the day, but in every minute. Because, sometimes, that's what it takes to get through the minute. <br />
<br />
Finally, this is what I know. Ultimately, I know nothing. Things can change in the blink of an eye. This is a hard place for me to be. I am being stretched in what and who I put my trust in. I am walking blind along a path that is dark. But I hold onto hope (this is my light), knowing that He who began a good work in me, is faithful to complete it. <br />
<br />
Shine on.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-26216885009196713712011-01-15T12:36:00.000-05:002011-01-15T12:36:44.921-05:00Just a bunch of fun pictures of the kids<div style="text-align: center;">Here are pictures from the last month. Enjoy.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi57b6ycvrTroX-Knm61NxNEtARA8LR08y5Ogles7iVSUgcKIw8N__Jtj6vUy_MrX3p1YllSFMEGSDShMj88VT7wvYgEAXEJ505V_Uzl1XppXeTj3kbYOO3W2EurBNCWKlhZZIN/s1600/IMG_3892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi57b6ycvrTroX-Knm61NxNEtARA8LR08y5Ogles7iVSUgcKIw8N__Jtj6vUy_MrX3p1YllSFMEGSDShMj88VT7wvYgEAXEJ505V_Uzl1XppXeTj3kbYOO3W2EurBNCWKlhZZIN/s320/IMG_3892.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Esther and Olivia can often be found doing photo shoots. Yes, this is Esther, on top of a dresser, laying on a pillow, posing like a model. Hilarious!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0vP3YxhgR23TbtKIsGJ_2e58XVzqv0irqBivZduNxa5IecCg4oPEaBrVnbV0B0BSg5aYbEVPoXgpu5UHx4c8_UfbiKZhLybjftS1tkjEU2c0UXqH7_XNjfFylATsm6har1lGD/s1600/IMG_3900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0vP3YxhgR23TbtKIsGJ_2e58XVzqv0irqBivZduNxa5IecCg4oPEaBrVnbV0B0BSg5aYbEVPoXgpu5UHx4c8_UfbiKZhLybjftS1tkjEU2c0UXqH7_XNjfFylATsm6har1lGD/s320/IMG_3900.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gideon in front of the tree. Photo by Olivia.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggD8OK6XJL1WEA8sDOb9QC8cBKdLRH38YHknV1MHgEGk_OuTKWDwsEkHD9nSrgr6vdw_gHUyq9WzZHHg-ZnotO0PiWhBi9zQokJf9OMcwPw0YMu8389gJn7vyIpU5tvwIixnB/s1600/IMG_3904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggD8OK6XJL1WEA8sDOb9QC8cBKdLRH38YHknV1MHgEGk_OuTKWDwsEkHD9nSrgr6vdw_gHUyq9WzZHHg-ZnotO0PiWhBi9zQokJf9OMcwPw0YMu8389gJn7vyIpU5tvwIixnB/s320/IMG_3904.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora with her cousin, Finn. She loves him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijA4rGVj4rd4_N8vm6yBgXMaLxw153XpdFD7PljFcZTeGXUZk0FOi2LTmTU9codftIvPHLD6ZgHuCK7o-ZGTXB42fM468atQKKDUsRlPLG2rUS_TqbmdmU5x0jSsi2LxUg5sU8/s1600/IMG_3958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijA4rGVj4rd4_N8vm6yBgXMaLxw153XpdFD7PljFcZTeGXUZk0FOi2LTmTU9codftIvPHLD6ZgHuCK7o-ZGTXB42fM468atQKKDUsRlPLG2rUS_TqbmdmU5x0jSsi2LxUg5sU8/s320/IMG_3958.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora and Esther. Again, the ears were a prop of the photo shoot. Photo by Olivia.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39mREj4WTyXDzSQ_JzheWWvehCmGIfT5c8KzIEXoz_oHYKgj6voj3ehNLcgyqsHw_FwwbXK-T8g-v-4qg0mS94p7Se54wGdfeQPxX3RMzibgpmrO8m2KIOKI6UP8Adl_3yg9H/s1600/IMG_3969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39mREj4WTyXDzSQ_JzheWWvehCmGIfT5c8KzIEXoz_oHYKgj6voj3ehNLcgyqsHw_FwwbXK-T8g-v-4qg0mS94p7Se54wGdfeQPxX3RMzibgpmrO8m2KIOKI6UP8Adl_3yg9H/s320/IMG_3969.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Olivia and Esther in the middle of a photo shoot. Photo by Garrett.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYVRW21_921M3nMJmwX1fo9v_jhpHOnTnPW1y_CRVqEOwCADcdVUjxPVtEaNFY4snbYPjXTjmqWBh52KdEG4NZGj2XDePsCLl_rgZl36XMjUNj6KbOp6OM-aQ980juvcZltDh/s1600/IMG_3971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYVRW21_921M3nMJmwX1fo9v_jhpHOnTnPW1y_CRVqEOwCADcdVUjxPVtEaNFY4snbYPjXTjmqWBh52KdEG4NZGj2XDePsCLl_rgZl36XMjUNj6KbOp6OM-aQ980juvcZltDh/s320/IMG_3971.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This picture was taken by Garrett, while I was in the kitchen. It actually annoys me, because it's one of the best pictures of the kids I've seen to date. And it was organized by Liv and taken by Garrett. Amazing what they can get accomplished when they work together.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh2I39SNOu5qdDLDwoH4LQmA2k7JzhPTEta8gL8DxVnnwbdd-jD4KAP-3BEMbQun-nE_d9IizhIGLsxjyTUKFAERU4b4g_OWGm3e1qpQvG-AmuBC-sxrRxDKrHkdtHYixAgVt/s1600/IMG_3975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh2I39SNOu5qdDLDwoH4LQmA2k7JzhPTEta8gL8DxVnnwbdd-jD4KAP-3BEMbQun-nE_d9IizhIGLsxjyTUKFAERU4b4g_OWGm3e1qpQvG-AmuBC-sxrRxDKrHkdtHYixAgVt/s320/IMG_3975.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Garrett's turn for a picture, because he wasn't in the last one.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNr5iBpXwZ3S4yEg5rOYUPFKKjEf7S5Vd0bnk8nOuogqezeLhhUmjXKM-ssNfMWfCslZAGfzoLNr22AcivzMn611t1GP1ZMQc15kloMd7xfjksRg7_SWwUtD4oa_-0A2qU2qvc/s1600/IMG_3981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNr5iBpXwZ3S4yEg5rOYUPFKKjEf7S5Vd0bnk8nOuogqezeLhhUmjXKM-ssNfMWfCslZAGfzoLNr22AcivzMn611t1GP1ZMQc15kloMd7xfjksRg7_SWwUtD4oa_-0A2qU2qvc/s320/IMG_3981.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">More posing. Photo by Garrett.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhctFX_IDzhjxOITvp_bKLF7MmQbYCGnIwDNTQIFPuV9tRpketff9ElglTAng2Mq1BMc2gcrpMkpTYUpBz-wtG-A8sttBntcaGkRfMAAfDKH7C5hpo9ELkYCDa0qofYCwXTDJz4/s1600/IMG_3987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhctFX_IDzhjxOITvp_bKLF7MmQbYCGnIwDNTQIFPuV9tRpketff9ElglTAng2Mq1BMc2gcrpMkpTYUpBz-wtG-A8sttBntcaGkRfMAAfDKH7C5hpo9ELkYCDa0qofYCwXTDJz4/s320/IMG_3987.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I love this picture! Photo by Esther.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPSLcJ4CmbwqPOJWPzXlRxSzWrEhyUTF-cHjghkpmfWJI_StyNbwtlkmLlV_6rBbF7tZL3Y71CZz6NAR74X_SSAp12sSBgtyJeCziVnSCpWDiM7BxIN18VZknoblr1JsqnB-3/s1600/IMG_3990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPSLcJ4CmbwqPOJWPzXlRxSzWrEhyUTF-cHjghkpmfWJI_StyNbwtlkmLlV_6rBbF7tZL3Y71CZz6NAR74X_SSAp12sSBgtyJeCziVnSCpWDiM7BxIN18VZknoblr1JsqnB-3/s320/IMG_3990.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sisters</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aDe4_SG4izbsIoUj0LObP1nqnjTDozqvV6JqA3ZHiEwk70CU3azbBan1Q5vX-lKpz67yeG_NKwJTR5dv4ISpfr6Zd6CY1x1Xn9PgUfQ53zp7SH5CihybhDeKRz0nvf0iCCD_/s1600/IMG_3993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aDe4_SG4izbsIoUj0LObP1nqnjTDozqvV6JqA3ZHiEwk70CU3azbBan1Q5vX-lKpz67yeG_NKwJTR5dv4ISpfr6Zd6CY1x1Xn9PgUfQ53zp7SH5CihybhDeKRz0nvf0iCCD_/s320/IMG_3993.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Big brother, little sister love.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzFJ8lKeQj8WTfwochbVP2DGgwC7pH7IwDKDGOJiUf7ErFXUnjgkT8jIUb6cWO7OuQXJmXDbCi4uUM3c1_aTvdptftts5u0M8K8ooRT_8JkzHdeS2LavZqiacis2PRkg70fBs/s1600/IMG_4004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzFJ8lKeQj8WTfwochbVP2DGgwC7pH7IwDKDGOJiUf7ErFXUnjgkT8jIUb6cWO7OuQXJmXDbCi4uUM3c1_aTvdptftts5u0M8K8ooRT_8JkzHdeS2LavZqiacis2PRkg70fBs/s320/IMG_4004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Self-portrait</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuDtljIAwBi5WqiehWonAm16oO9HLvqn3tAvyUXvGsVvWaf90phabOiOuWShDPpjozKQ1aH23zV6AO2Bpi0Ma7f91Hj03YkIQY42a03_XnvlFXOuP4gNaA6g1WAIW_x0-yAaxy/s1600/IMG_4076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuDtljIAwBi5WqiehWonAm16oO9HLvqn3tAvyUXvGsVvWaf90phabOiOuWShDPpjozKQ1aH23zV6AO2Bpi0Ma7f91Hj03YkIQY42a03_XnvlFXOuP4gNaA6g1WAIW_x0-yAaxy/s320/IMG_4076.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora and Gid "playing" the DS's.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cwURDQoqEfN_dWwzjOc0LmCmhZB-2mFp0Zmmr2jzn0ChIs_DolHEmZcINsGG3Y0zMWkcTXuIK_i3u-jqFfrVabhXOW8v88Ru7pjIXdrvbf2tbQO0Bw8VHS514_qwcGUOKbC6/s1600/IMG_4078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cwURDQoqEfN_dWwzjOc0LmCmhZB-2mFp0Zmmr2jzn0ChIs_DolHEmZcINsGG3Y0zMWkcTXuIK_i3u-jqFfrVabhXOW8v88Ru7pjIXdrvbf2tbQO0Bw8VHS514_qwcGUOKbC6/s320/IMG_4078.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora and her cousin, Joshua.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPNTFJzjfrF1T5LQL1D3vnaMeKcNwwPUlQI3jmHGUoeknywVp_DzMQFO9vQNDas-KmwMVVt963oy8mde1-ng8Q-aKOIg-3enwHM8V6z8pOhRNYiHrvJ4BoekVTS8bsgU6jaAw/s1600/IMG_4081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPNTFJzjfrF1T5LQL1D3vnaMeKcNwwPUlQI3jmHGUoeknywVp_DzMQFO9vQNDas-KmwMVVt963oy8mde1-ng8Q-aKOIg-3enwHM8V6z8pOhRNYiHrvJ4BoekVTS8bsgU6jaAw/s320/IMG_4081.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Esther and her <s>partner in crime </s> best cousin, Avery.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzPyVqfVEPCxU7oHG6FBXqR-W9O692UFHAMHftKcfSTwnwqbNlla5bZ07AdqhmLaj8uhYvLveIx0EysUhM9k0yFsIkoCxn9_j89ephawGQWrz1_U35DajohaLDlCsjJ-HPYOb/s1600/IMG_4084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzPyVqfVEPCxU7oHG6FBXqR-W9O692UFHAMHftKcfSTwnwqbNlla5bZ07AdqhmLaj8uhYvLveIx0EysUhM9k0yFsIkoCxn9_j89ephawGQWrz1_U35DajohaLDlCsjJ-HPYOb/s320/IMG_4084.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Garrett reading to Nora. I love these moments.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYw_1pdD1UbiSkss4R-pP4bcxaZDDgfta8njAXLRsmo_cpGRH88VfEWuAulhIXdB7YV81YE4emswpPfO0lbYQTJhyEhHS_EATbrWObu_naxl1tEK5xueXiI4gNngxxf5jRIJo/s1600/IMG_4086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYw_1pdD1UbiSkss4R-pP4bcxaZDDgfta8njAXLRsmo_cpGRH88VfEWuAulhIXdB7YV81YE4emswpPfO0lbYQTJhyEhHS_EATbrWObu_naxl1tEK5xueXiI4gNngxxf5jRIJo/s320/IMG_4086.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gideon and Nora. Another sweet moment.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxEua1XBznE7lryMq6-bovR1eXJxhd9TDWKTeNTwRerEJjD2kf-dQbO0wczXRATpQLBAhFtxvWYa4ULOj7PEGLYZYoETURA9xPkypgU9j17euWRBv8_CRCmNOnNjYuJhoEEVn/s1600/IMG_4090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxEua1XBznE7lryMq6-bovR1eXJxhd9TDWKTeNTwRerEJjD2kf-dQbO0wczXRATpQLBAhFtxvWYa4ULOj7PEGLYZYoETURA9xPkypgU9j17euWRBv8_CRCmNOnNjYuJhoEEVn/s320/IMG_4090.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">After we took down the tree, Esther found the tree skirt and thought it was a perfect spin-a-round skirt. And she was right!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDukJ029xEo0ntgRC8nJGy3nrqZ7rxU2n0J_1sDDZ9h4VvOK-9eAPs5x5ifUDEThorhznq17Oge13tyfDMwxr0kSHPg_AZiP_jF5oJgYN61cyjuua8wweQzDTrQEbBmGPIMvSh/s1600/IMG_4094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDukJ029xEo0ntgRC8nJGy3nrqZ7rxU2n0J_1sDDZ9h4VvOK-9eAPs5x5ifUDEThorhznq17Oge13tyfDMwxr0kSHPg_AZiP_jF5oJgYN61cyjuua8wweQzDTrQEbBmGPIMvSh/s320/IMG_4094.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sleeping sardines with the Crisp kids.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqBka6ehiyBHTiXGzPCrPnti-nDir3I8ZN1SExEAABWqJd98ZlvHt98LBjZM8-cOQb2gKl0h4PjyAGk8WisuNjRs1mdIeNdpm9pBkonvepmnnSes14CV74P806paO7snsLa-j/s1600/IMG_4096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqBka6ehiyBHTiXGzPCrPnti-nDir3I8ZN1SExEAABWqJd98ZlvHt98LBjZM8-cOQb2gKl0h4PjyAGk8WisuNjRs1mdIeNdpm9pBkonvepmnnSes14CV74P806paO7snsLa-j/s320/IMG_4096.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora, really into the dancing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-M8cI5iKS4yxGC3P4JgF0Hczdb_1y89YESZRKdjWZsxRykFsetVbFt3A4VD6zHA-Gxn1CzTs26HZSn11Gu29XSumWQlsgu6mPt4Eqvfm370HdDYVKfz5un_8FcWCF-vtRQYdL/s1600/IMG_4098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-M8cI5iKS4yxGC3P4JgF0Hczdb_1y89YESZRKdjWZsxRykFsetVbFt3A4VD6zHA-Gxn1CzTs26HZSn11Gu29XSumWQlsgu6mPt4Eqvfm370HdDYVKfz5un_8FcWCF-vtRQYdL/s320/IMG_4098.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The 3 olders watching TV on our bed. Right before I took this, Garrett was playing with Esther's hair. Again, with the sweet moments.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJcpcaz52w4QG-o2F63L_x3mXto9YuU4hqR6B0Soeq415sBzV0Qt8-_LQZr2fjpRJfwvfuE4NqWC0lVWz1SO9sc7vO_LTEku0Zaz3caZ3XKmGVuvj4upkqGRNoAysZwB5H0MO/s1600/IMG_4101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJcpcaz52w4QG-o2F63L_x3mXto9YuU4hqR6B0Soeq415sBzV0Qt8-_LQZr2fjpRJfwvfuE4NqWC0lVWz1SO9sc7vO_LTEku0Zaz3caZ3XKmGVuvj4upkqGRNoAysZwB5H0MO/s320/IMG_4101.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gideon enjoying the snow.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6CPJNZ5O4uhUHM3NzWOndgU8xUZSRiCxQGGoZrOTzA0JIsWdVuvByuE7iLqkvDNZq9ko0L7v-li8BGc-6NIWl6zSBpaal0B9p_Ut9iEYe7FqkiLxoYSwzxsptNZMsPBxL7yj/s1600/IMG_4102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6CPJNZ5O4uhUHM3NzWOndgU8xUZSRiCxQGGoZrOTzA0JIsWdVuvByuE7iLqkvDNZq9ko0L7v-li8BGc-6NIWl6zSBpaal0B9p_Ut9iEYe7FqkiLxoYSwzxsptNZMsPBxL7yj/s320/IMG_4102.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora eating the snow.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-57450436486882881152011-01-15T12:13:00.000-05:002011-01-15T12:13:51.574-05:00Christmas, Christmas, and more Christmas!!Christmas went on for weeks this year. Here are a couple of the times we were with family to celebrate Christmas.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByV0SSQiqIiADATo6fC-IayD3QqJ8jtGA-qQQl5vjhWzece9Dt6ZwIQZPie0b-bVs6W1W_IqVlBvZMcySMZxrzVIDjoi_wiVtTwS7qFenpvHUnIa61AMqWixHt5tOOrNDdZat/s1600/DSC01922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByV0SSQiqIiADATo6fC-IayD3QqJ8jtGA-qQQl5vjhWzece9Dt6ZwIQZPie0b-bVs6W1W_IqVlBvZMcySMZxrzVIDjoi_wiVtTwS7qFenpvHUnIa61AMqWixHt5tOOrNDdZat/s320/DSC01922.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Grandma and Grandpa Ledbetter with the Crisp great-grandchildren. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB9MSPDaNM5HPybBVhRRuR3gt6l7Vftn02GXauTOGSRBYE70dnfcsftCEa0tZXiP0ChDoEJZdWvHXsKywSJEJUI0IwKxH0kaUSMEIqhekngpumXTrdYNUYIjdGNh5NM27pICjy/s1600/DSC01925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB9MSPDaNM5HPybBVhRRuR3gt6l7Vftn02GXauTOGSRBYE70dnfcsftCEa0tZXiP0ChDoEJZdWvHXsKywSJEJUI0IwKxH0kaUSMEIqhekngpumXTrdYNUYIjdGNh5NM27pICjy/s320/DSC01925.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The John Crisp family. We are so blessed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfW-hjWxa_Po4wcxtCJQx4blK46oZw4-j02_lKj6ZXtE0CQGR41PenOPg3u5MAt3Uvx1X7nXGJZ9GM3j9golXuzocT9vVuxUVoMC8sdR-A9ApGDtwLbRX4H0XpNsBv44oDhfX9/s1600/IMG_4017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfW-hjWxa_Po4wcxtCJQx4blK46oZw4-j02_lKj6ZXtE0CQGR41PenOPg3u5MAt3Uvx1X7nXGJZ9GM3j9golXuzocT9vVuxUVoMC8sdR-A9ApGDtwLbRX4H0XpNsBv44oDhfX9/s320/IMG_4017.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gideon opening presents with Uncle Steve.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhntWHAN6SpxSLADzI4M_YpZJWKfo0c9Y05XGUKRpI_EAiyQuOjtAQ_ti54VVRF4nlqpbEJcf0ILjkUN0kVBmaxQG9zL34puiax0M45dLXXs1xw-1AF2_EhtwcM9xpXGirx-_lM/s1600/IMG_4018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhntWHAN6SpxSLADzI4M_YpZJWKfo0c9Y05XGUKRpI_EAiyQuOjtAQ_ti54VVRF4nlqpbEJcf0ILjkUN0kVBmaxQG9zL34puiax0M45dLXXs1xw-1AF2_EhtwcM9xpXGirx-_lM/s320/IMG_4018.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Crisp men. From left to right. Eric, Mike, Steve, John (Pa-pa) and Josh.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOcbp5U4na0x6M-vnaIuLJvD-u7Jj4Kpa6woHZW9p_Hgg-WQQlCpPWNdmbqwu2nG0lcsHKoRuRK4MUKt2NopXYzYJvUMXReDswaDEioyMPHELoo_4vh2hdAAtWON91QW1UATp/s1600/IMG_4041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOcbp5U4na0x6M-vnaIuLJvD-u7Jj4Kpa6woHZW9p_Hgg-WQQlCpPWNdmbqwu2nG0lcsHKoRuRK4MUKt2NopXYzYJvUMXReDswaDEioyMPHELoo_4vh2hdAAtWON91QW1UATp/s320/IMG_4041.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Christmas with my Nana and Pop-pop. The kids waiting patiently.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm16V8W_gyLkTWCay0oiFVyQazVqz_njDQTt62-XvJnK6zWi-UX8yOxH2JN4RN_BDsEMFWUgBE5CN21XevC6-Dj7O0pmuqOZCAyaZ_WUikOOQnn6lMpoJkfMv4LqoQClLolpF/s1600/IMG_4048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm16V8W_gyLkTWCay0oiFVyQazVqz_njDQTt62-XvJnK6zWi-UX8yOxH2JN4RN_BDsEMFWUgBE5CN21XevC6-Dj7O0pmuqOZCAyaZ_WUikOOQnn6lMpoJkfMv4LqoQClLolpF/s320/IMG_4048.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Olivia likes her toes socks.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWavxlbfZ4PcaqdMCdpt9_eLbcypx25AVPjxF-HlFb-6HXPMYlSdIy5uLJajn4I1-AHdn_SRTkAA3kMWCSZ8KYwplBlYiC_LzO4J4caCsSgTMOA2VeD3HsFWwXdoP1T2y19Ya/s1600/IMG_4050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWavxlbfZ4PcaqdMCdpt9_eLbcypx25AVPjxF-HlFb-6HXPMYlSdIy5uLJajn4I1-AHdn_SRTkAA3kMWCSZ8KYwplBlYiC_LzO4J4caCsSgTMOA2VeD3HsFWwXdoP1T2y19Ya/s320/IMG_4050.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nora liked them too!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6iRjzHjn_nW-H249mMbqz4SEw65osbqQWg6TByrruIlYbFhC-J_8QnIMrUFZq9EXBLD388IlqeAXMrB3tueWkMCeCdJmQUwI48fBNq9rFblqXg_UhFfDLPU7YSYSML91h3gp1/s1600/IMG_4053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6iRjzHjn_nW-H249mMbqz4SEw65osbqQWg6TByrruIlYbFhC-J_8QnIMrUFZq9EXBLD388IlqeAXMrB3tueWkMCeCdJmQUwI48fBNq9rFblqXg_UhFfDLPU7YSYSML91h3gp1/s320/IMG_4053.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Garrett excited about his microscope.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ma-LLPW7r68arzjBR7_SR6vj-FwoEYXhgpsl2BcBy7QUSscGB8MrkePoaUtIr9DK6TNtWLWwqRmwg8qsYDsbzEskxz7RBVXL6Q02xar54Gr2udws4UGSq3RWpJl2rVKMcOaX/s1600/IMG_4058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ma-LLPW7r68arzjBR7_SR6vj-FwoEYXhgpsl2BcBy7QUSscGB8MrkePoaUtIr9DK6TNtWLWwqRmwg8qsYDsbzEskxz7RBVXL6Q02xar54Gr2udws4UGSq3RWpJl2rVKMcOaX/s320/IMG_4058.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Christmas with my family. The one year olds, Brynn, Nora, and Joshua.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfTWwRkkiNTIoTeHsy4BTv5ROdlVVMNTKQXsh4IvR2ZPJ8B3jRjC4RYZGAez1MwhQBPM5TWWhJYcdvRlqNj8zgshjmvzcfQE04gLorViZciXE6eQguv-7aiFH755Vt3nMctqa/s1600/IMG_4063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfTWwRkkiNTIoTeHsy4BTv5ROdlVVMNTKQXsh4IvR2ZPJ8B3jRjC4RYZGAez1MwhQBPM5TWWhJYcdvRlqNj8zgshjmvzcfQE04gLorViZciXE6eQguv-7aiFH755Vt3nMctqa/s320/IMG_4063.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Brynn and Nora.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKQw1U16R-OwvwH-boBkf-vG75EcKTYx0Q51SmIqaAjeYFMVAjcwUGic78ZAeBVRT04sInII7JrA-Gx3bGfj_QdltyR-8gL7hDRI-L9h3JIBi4-r-qCgiVgdz-hE0Jmpfat1A/s1600/IMG_4066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKQw1U16R-OwvwH-boBkf-vG75EcKTYx0Q51SmIqaAjeYFMVAjcwUGic78ZAeBVRT04sInII7JrA-Gx3bGfj_QdltyR-8gL7hDRI-L9h3JIBi4-r-qCgiVgdz-hE0Jmpfat1A/s320/IMG_4066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">All the kids (minus Finn, the newest baby) ready to open presents.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hWh4_TlCnc0R5nXGtRO9Lp3nyGuiJdNPl7mMDsGPMSKJ0IKc63vr7qHBIeK0BWRBbvq0tKkqT77eFuNuNCVFC4ukIKmnImzpNhBnbty8DGw6LkOIpAohhSc2L9kqRB2aoqMn/s1600/IMG_4069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hWh4_TlCnc0R5nXGtRO9Lp3nyGuiJdNPl7mMDsGPMSKJ0IKc63vr7qHBIeK0BWRBbvq0tKkqT77eFuNuNCVFC4ukIKmnImzpNhBnbty8DGw6LkOIpAohhSc2L9kqRB2aoqMn/s320/IMG_4069.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Watch out Grammy, you might get trampled!!</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15052760.post-60873548627337499042011-01-15T12:01:00.000-05:002011-01-15T12:01:28.208-05:00Pretend the date says Dec. 27thWow! We had such a wonderful Christmas so far! Of course, right in the middle of all the Christmasing, we can't forget about our beautiful Esther's birthday. Our little princess joined our family 5 years ago today! She is 100% girl. Spinning dresses, make-up, princesses and modeling are among her favorite things.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXyc6NT2Y-U66Xgx-ruO2dibCQiDwERa_QKbFgBpedoj80HbJ9TlVDzIFlDPAYgcfTDizuC9nc_2uQIcsspeuE4WFc97Di16srD5K7uNFB8Z1vOe5pT-hjgekXsBRNBU8DdDiO/s1600/DSC01887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXyc6NT2Y-U66Xgx-ruO2dibCQiDwERa_QKbFgBpedoj80HbJ9TlVDzIFlDPAYgcfTDizuC9nc_2uQIcsspeuE4WFc97Di16srD5K7uNFB8Z1vOe5pT-hjgekXsBRNBU8DdDiO/s320/DSC01887.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Crisp sister's all dressed up for the ball.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19-0bwfVNjiYFAcP3BNjQJuQe4SiigrcKmJsg_Pa8QwXqd7Ot35oFEwOfa2evXUsoTSCAxA0e-_FhVSvhrvD5y2SQ-zsRmmw3v9xWWYTlLror5Ymb86ULkLri-tla-Ghd4wFQ/s1600/DSC01888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19-0bwfVNjiYFAcP3BNjQJuQe4SiigrcKmJsg_Pa8QwXqd7Ot35oFEwOfa2evXUsoTSCAxA0e-_FhVSvhrvD5y2SQ-zsRmmw3v9xWWYTlLror5Ymb86ULkLri-tla-Ghd4wFQ/s320/DSC01888.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Princess Esther on her birthday.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NQkrBXZ0JRvXtZST3leH03MeHD6yDhq_g6JH_SJQb80qtf-PU5Onh4SsuNFd6UZ6bht8m6VbHQa57xkB3_wQh53P5kzYSIBws_QN-7O700cR_6_gEpn-DacKxV_nhuKPnp32/s1600/DSC01894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NQkrBXZ0JRvXtZST3leH03MeHD6yDhq_g6JH_SJQb80qtf-PU5Onh4SsuNFd6UZ6bht8m6VbHQa57xkB3_wQh53P5kzYSIBws_QN-7O700cR_6_gEpn-DacKxV_nhuKPnp32/s320/DSC01894.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Esther's request, a princess cake. It was made of pull away cupcakes. Definitely the way to go, there were no leftovers the next day!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiqVRduSp1eeJdJNClrIfMPD7uFt-BqlZDywhOtD7DHW2iMgrrQI6hnf8pHAg8H4sI56C6BytGg5Q5VXB9phFNRHaFOAQ_FzZWt4csXrikyvHEDa0Q_ymgLRgLWd94-T-g_Go/s1600/DSC01896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiqVRduSp1eeJdJNClrIfMPD7uFt-BqlZDywhOtD7DHW2iMgrrQI6hnf8pHAg8H4sI56C6BytGg5Q5VXB9phFNRHaFOAQ_FzZWt4csXrikyvHEDa0Q_ymgLRgLWd94-T-g_Go/s320/DSC01896.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy 5th Birthday Esther Victoria. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">(Now, can you all STOP growing up? It's taking a real toll on this mommas heart!) </div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16633628320732847220noreply@blogger.com0