tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294139182024-03-23T12:32:33.568-06:00Butterfly MamaFluttering about the flowers of life with a cup of tea in my hand, love beneath my wings and something sweet to eat. Take a deep breath, smell the roses....Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.comBlogger531125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-41432670652454834412011-12-25T00:17:00.002-07:002011-12-25T00:18:59.387-07:00Giddy with Christmas!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Christmas has found me, I was faithful that it would, but it didn't really feel like it was coming until today.<br />
Regardless of my feelings, I knew that it would come, and it has! For that we....<br />
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...REJOICE</div>
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...with wonder</div>
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...and great joy!</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Merriest </span><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">of </span><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Christmas </span><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">wishes </span><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">to </span><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">you</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">!</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-19242395130326754002011-09-22T22:38:00.001-06:002011-09-22T22:41:40.968-06:00Summer versus FallLast week our science lesson was on the seasons and for a science experiment, we decided to head out into the neighborhood and look for signs. Teetering on the line, Summer keeps taking one last deep breath. One day soon however, Autumn is bound to be exhaled.<br />
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Our Observations:<br />
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<b>Signs that Summer is still here: </b><br />
a butterfly fluttering between us<br />
hot sweaty heads beneath bike helmets<br />
peaches<br />
skinned knees and elbows<br />
wild blackberries<br />
<b>Signs that Fall is coming:</b><br />
a few leaves beginning to turn red on the neighbor's sugar maple tree<br />
trumpet geese returning<br />
Apples (and the crabby apples)<br />
the bountiful harvest from our garden<br />
cooler mornings<br />
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Snippets of Summer Life</div>
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This evening while talking with my son as I put him to bed…</div>
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Nathan: Mommy remember that nice thing I did for Gabi</div>
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Me: Yes, you are a wonderful big brother</div>
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N: Well I’m not going to be able to remember it in another
week or maybe more because my brain is gonna be all filled up with school!</div>
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____ ____ ____</div>
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I turn around in the kitchen and ask my handsome husband who
just returned home sweaty from the gym to please stop drinking from the water
bottle he pulled from the fridge. </div>
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“Wow, why? That’s good,” he questions. </div>
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“Of course it is!! Its hummingbird food. You know, sugar and
water in solution…”</div>
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____ ____ ____</div>
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Riding in the car Gabi asks, “Do I have a sweet tooth?</div>
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Me: Yes, you have a very big sweet tooth sweetie.</div>
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G: Where is it?</div>
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Me: Why do you want to know?</div>
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G: I want to eat it!</div>
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____ ____ ____</div>
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Summer, you will be missed dearly. Fall, welcome! You promise more of this, more of us and life all open and raw and real. </div>
Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-10793093818181238872011-09-11T15:29:00.000-06:002011-09-11T15:29:43.925-06:00Living and rememberingI have cried the ugly cry, more than once today. I waited to be alone to do it. I want my kids to learn about 9/11 but I don't want to be the one to teach it to them. I can't do it without sobbing. I want them to learn with me the <a href="http://butterflymama.blogspot.com/2006/09/regretfully-now-i-know-names.html">names of the heroes</a> of that day. I want to feel healed and not so raw when I think of it. Mostly though, I want there not to be loved ones of 2,977 people whose hearts are ripped right out of their chests every year on this day and on all the other days too.<br />
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At lunch today I let the kids eat dessert first, chocolate covered strawberries. My sweet husband, new I would need some sweets over this weekend and he made them for me, after the kids were in bed, so I wouldn't have to share. I did anyway. I can't eat quite a dozen all by myself! Since it is rare to even have dessert at <i>any</i> meal in this house the little lips were thrilled with the two chocolate covered juicy morsels placed before them, and they didn't even have to eat their broccoli first. <br />
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Perhaps comfort food isn't the correct answer for healing, but it is a way to cope. Along with convincing my kids to snuggle me more, which is getting harder in direct proportion with how big they are getting. I'm also coping this year is by writing, it has become my outlet these last few years and yet I haven't yet recorded the events of where I was on
that fateful day ten years ago.<br />
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I was driving in our explorer, it was just after 7am PST, I had just dropped Adam off at work in Mission Valley and was off to drop the doggies at day care, it was to be a long day for both of us. Wondering why the radio was off in the first place, I turned up the volume while hitting a few presets because all I heard was chatter and I wanted some music. I heard something about the World Trade Center, I went back, I couldn't get a clear picture from what I was hearing. Something about a bombing at the WTC, hopefully, I thought they were talking about the previous bombing in 1993. I pulled over and called my Dad. <br />
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He was nearly speechless on the other end, I felt like I had to make him talk, "they're gone, they're... just gone." Was all he could say, I could picture him there watching the TV in our family room, but I could not yet imagine what he meant. I wanted to jump on a plane and be there with him, but that would have to wait. "All those people" was all I barely had the breath to whisper, "and the buildings" was his distant response.<br />
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I turned around and went back to work with the crazy dogs, I let my husband hug the strength back into my legs. I had to see it. The internet was bogged. Adam went to Costco with a friend and brought a TV back to the office. <br />
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I saw it. I still couldn't believe it. I saw it and saw it as we all did and I still couldn't fathom it. I knew people who worked in and around there and are still alive! ALIVE. But weeks later one told me she still hadn't smiled. The buildings are symbols of freedom, the media kept telling me, that's why they picked them to attack, to harm our economy. I couldn't understand, none of us can, even still. <br />
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I couldn't see them as just buildings. They were living and breathing, because of the lives that they sheltered and protected day after day. I saw them the way I saw all the other buildings that housed my friends, family, coworkers, school mates and strangers, the buildings were symbols of life. They were a product of human invention and housed the frailness of this human condition, that can come to an end so tragically.<br />
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Healing, I've now realized, doesn't mean the pain is gone or even that the tears stop falling, it means living and finding a redemptive kind of hope from what I see in others. People sharing the stories of heroes in planes and buildings and families. In how they keep going on despite the loss, devastation and grief.<br />
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Ten years, for such a defining moment in a lifetime is but a blink. Years before, I would get angry at San Diego and Boise news media for not showing enough of the 9/11 coverage. I almost wanted to relive it, each year for fear that the pain would fade into memory. It will not. I will always, clearly remember the sleepless nights, the weeks of silence and tears. The signs in grand central station, even two months later. The candles and pictures on the firehouse, the people. They will always be in my heart.<br />
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An inspiring family from my home town shares their story. I can't watch all the stories, this year I just watched this one. I will cry with them and live and play with my family. I will remember, while creating new memories. Maybe before dinner, we'll have dessert first too, because we are alive and grateful to be so.<br />
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-78574620515993169982011-07-24T15:54:00.001-06:002011-07-24T17:03:08.332-06:00Waist lineHands pruning in luke-warm dishwater, scrubbing a pan from three meals
before, I can feel the joy. The squeals from outside by the pool pull my
gaze from tomato plants taller than my firstborn to the owners of the squeals.<br />
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I see them, splashing and kicking and laughing. I really see. Past the sun streaming through glass jars, the dishwater splashed windows, there is the truth, the
wonder and the beauty. Joyous!<br />
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Letting go. It is what I needed to do to find joy, stop searching.
Joy isn't something that can be put on from the outside, it only can
well up from the innermost place. I've been calling this the 'summer of fun'
because of the fun we've been having. Really, for me, it's
the summer of joy.<br />
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We've given up bedtime for riding bikes, chores for crafts,
stress for time at the city pool. The spontaneous factor has been
kicked up - usually this just kills me, I need a plan - but picnics and drives and
playing and memories are well worth it.<br />
<br />
I say: yes to playing with playdoh, even though I know the crumbly mess,
painting, beads and stair sledding. Yes, I'll drop me and help you
make a fort, read a book, do a puzzle, fill the swimming pool.<br />
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Halfway done, this sunny, delightful time, I feel like a warm sticky bun
just pulled out and smothered in goo. I smile more. Life goes slowly
and quickly and it's always good and I can see that.<br />
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My goals for these months quickly changed from staying ahead for school in the fall to: crafts, fun, love and grace. Grace is such a little,
huge word. It is where I am learning to give what isn't deserved.
First, really, I am accepting what I don't. Receiving.
Giving. Really the same thing? As soon as I get a glimpse of understanding, it flees. I am grateful for the glimpse.<br />
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Not to give the illusion of perfection, there have been more of those
extra-tired-over-the-top tantrums around here. Apparently, three year
olds need not sleep in after seeing the previous 11pm. They become
cranky and dramatic, who knew. *wink*<br />
<br />
We are real and hurting and we
hurt each other and we heal and forgive and are certainly not perfect. These moments, I see
them teaching me a greater love, a greater patience, a greater need for
compassion and an unfathomable amount of grace.<br />
<br />
I feel myself waist deep in summer, but fully immersed. Different from
that awkward feeling of waist high in the swimming pool, squealing,
until we just plunge the top half down. Giving all the nerves at the
edge of the skin the same sensation, it's all they know now, the pool
water, I'm not hesitant any more. It feels ok now to be splashed, I am used to it.<br />
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To be here, waist high in summer, yet fully covered in its amazing blessings.<br />
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-6442391201459498552011-04-24T05:00:00.002-06:002011-04-24T05:00:00.630-06:00Happy Easter!<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/18_PDY22Sck" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
<b>See What a Morning</b> (by Keith and Kristyn Getty <br />
<br />
See, what a morning, gloriously bright,<br />
With the dawning of hope in Jerusalem;<br />
Folded the grave-clothes, tomb filled with light,<br />
As the angels announce, "Christ is risen!"<br />
See God's salvation plan,<br />
Wrought in love, borne in pain, paid in sacrifice,<br />
Fulfilled in Christ, the Man,<br />
For He lives: Christ is risen from the dead!<br />
<br />
See Mary weeping, "Where is He laid?"<br />
As in sorrow she turns from the empty tomb;<br />
Hears a voice speaking, calling her name;<br />
It's the Master, the Lord raised to life again!<br />
The voice that spans the years,<br />
Speaking life, stirring hope, bringing peace to us,<br />
Will sound till He appears,<br />
For He lives: Christ is risen from the dead!<br />
<br />
One with the Father, Ancient of Days,<br />
Through the Spirit who clothes faith with certainty.<br />
Honor and blessing, glory and praise<br />
To the King crowned with pow'r and authority!<br />
And we are raised with Him,<br />
Death is dead, love has won, Christ has conquered;<br />
And we shall reign with Him,<br />
For He lives: Christ is risen from the dead!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0n3F2isQlT789onuI7odY6ZWLyCKU6C8_SgRuSewyZxC0PB_5p2njl7OXVr_N9Egrru7AxqFk8hLB7FBdrCxSKDPU3wfCLmd8uKlPW7jddS8zkURMORj3-JGM6qMvZBCVgC0F9Q/s1600/DSC_6342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0n3F2isQlT789onuI7odY6ZWLyCKU6C8_SgRuSewyZxC0PB_5p2njl7OXVr_N9Egrru7AxqFk8hLB7FBdrCxSKDPU3wfCLmd8uKlPW7jddS8zkURMORj3-JGM6qMvZBCVgC0F9Q/s400/DSC_6342.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Easter Eggs Hiding in the Grass" By, the boy</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDIPKhOoH25BpX8_Z89zj2qyCIAqFt1y_Q4sIZD7OZk0CXg0MOhcP5TD8jsZkfqmam8Iu4mXSY6kBIOGshstaYBSBhMq4XGj-Ew9BoHba0r9QRHwobg6_6xJ6lLKrMVSAL5OCDw/s1600/DSC_6354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDIPKhOoH25BpX8_Z89zj2qyCIAqFt1y_Q4sIZD7OZk0CXg0MOhcP5TD8jsZkfqmam8Iu4mXSY6kBIOGshstaYBSBhMq4XGj-Ew9BoHba0r9QRHwobg6_6xJ6lLKrMVSAL5OCDw/s640/DSC_6354.JPG" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May you find child-like joy today!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-68859382906379644712011-04-22T21:03:00.000-06:002011-04-22T21:03:46.306-06:00Thanks for the dirty!Thank God for dirty dishes; They have a tale to tell.<br />
While others may go hungry, We’re eating very well.<br />
With home, health, and happiness,
I shouldn’t want to fuss;<br />
By the stack of evidence, God’s been very good to us.<br />
Author Unknown<br />
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It's always about perspective for me
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<br />
#275. This day and this song <br />
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.<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Nwzt9jRUPNg" title="YouTube video player" width="640">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;276&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
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276. dove cooing on my rooftop<br />
277. kids listening to mysteries<br />
278. "one more chapter, please"<br />
279. holding on tight<br />
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280. dirty dishes<br />
281. cruchy apples<br />
282. lazy saturdays<br />
283. flowers on the window sill<br />
284. their beauty between me and last years tomato skeltons<br />
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285. the work of the garden<br />
286. buds bulging on branches<br />
287. blossoms emerging<br />
288. growing boy flipping quesadillas<br />
289. voices singing together<br />
290. goose bumps<br />
291. sunny day at the park<br />
292. socks peeled off discarded<br />
293. the sound of flip-flops from the back yard<br />
294. teeth - loose or not<br />
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295. kisses on hot foreheads<br />
296. thermometers<br />
297. hot lips kissing my cheek<br />
298. prayers for healing<br />
299. ibuprofen easing the heat<br />
300. eyes releasing to sleep healing<br />
301. little girls skirts<br />
302.dirty laundry<br />
303. closets and drawers<br />
304. realizing that growing bodies are still humbly small<br />
305. husbands offers of help<br />
306. serving one another<br />
307. pile of artwork at the end of the dining room table <br />
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-42221255860223428172011-04-21T10:25:00.000-06:002011-04-21T10:25:27.036-06:00Spring Cleaning<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Revisiting this from last year, this Easter week, healing continuing, more each day. Written March 31, 2010....</span></i><br />
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Most
of us know the drill. After a windy, cold, wet winter our flower beds
need a bit of a face lift. Crispy dull leaves, thrown around by wintry
winds, caught beneath their budding branches, bushes begin to show signs
of new life. Tiny green leaves eventually bursting forth in the warm
spring sunshine. <br />
<br />
So too, our minds and hearts can use a
de-cluttering. A time to rid our hearts of the disarray that we hold
onto which keeps us unnecessarily in bondage. Allowing ourselves freedom
from the burdens that are too horrible to mention but to a select few
on this earth. Ours are hearts that have these places, like the bases of
my bushes, the burdens and guilt can get stuck there going seemingly
unnoticed. Dull, in the dreary dark we cling instead of letting them go,
completely letting Jesus pay that price for us - for it all, yes, even
what we dare not mention. <br />
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As
I put on last year’s well worn gloves (they ripped up a fair share of
sod a year ago) I note the damage and think about buying a new pair.
These are my gloves; my fingers know them, each finger hugged by the
worn leather. They are known. They are mine. A new pair, certainly
unknown, needed none the less.<br />
<br />
So too is life with
these burdens, I've held them all so long. I know them well, I own them,
and I even chose them. Letting myself be forgiven for them? I don't
know for sure what life will look like if I lay them all down at the
foot of the cross. Is Jesus really big enough for all that? He really
did become sin, He who knew no sin, for me. For me, for this! Yes! For this! Yes, my head knows, why will my heart not let it go?
Why will my own heart not forgive?<br />
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As
I work, filling a box with crisp leaves, the smells bring me back to
autumn for a moment. The dying. The death. Appropriate for this Easter
week. I turn my face to the sunshine while putting a handful of leaves
in the box and a warm smile crosses my face and goes deep into my soul. <br />
<br />
I
know that I must let these burdens die with Jesus, there on the cross.
The price. Oh so costly. Paid by the One who didn't deserve it. First
the death, but after the death of autumn and the cold, endless winter, a
celebration of life and resurrection!<br />
<br />
I begin pulling out grasses and rearranging the rock border, <i>man the grass roots go on forever</i>.
I follow the root for as far as I can and it seems never to
end. Finally it breaks in my hand and I leave it, knowing in a few more
weeks I'll have to pull it again. <br />
<br />
I aknowledge that
though these roots may not seem to end, God's love indeed has no end.
Never. Always there, always pouring it out into my heart. I am the only
one that cuts it off to me, He will always give it. I will have to
accept it. Is it possible to replace these burdens with love? How on
earth can I let myself, my wretched self be loved by God? Even more so,
knowing how much God loves me, how can I not love myself? Not a selfish
love but a love of someone that God made who has a purpose and who is
special. Me. I am special in the eyes of God. I am loved by God. A bud
forming right there, a sign, healing is beginning. <br />
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The
sun is warming my back as I work and makes my dull mommy hair shine as
it hangs beside my face. Pulling more weeds I stack a rock pile of
random stones. <br />
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The
Son, who rose victorious, can shine an even greater light in my heart.
He has conquered this life and rose victorious. He alone can heal these
wounds and in the <i>(now year and)</i> four months since I have given them up to Him,
miracles have happened. Miracles. I couldn't do in years what He has now
begun. <br />
<br />
My mind wanders as I make my way down the bed;
suddenly I look at the progress I've made in such a short time. This
chore last year was endless because it hadn't been done the two years
prior. I guess some things get overlooked during pregnancy and with a
small baby. (Just a few!) I remember how demanding this was last year
both physically and time consuming. Grateful, I am amazed with how well
it is going and how much better it begins to look rather quickly.<br />
<br />
At
this commencing of my journey really forgiving, really loving, really
giving it all up, I am encouraged to think that as the years go by,
continually laying all my burdens down the healing will continue. Each
year, each week, each minute that passes means it will become easier and
more wonderful to live life forgiven. Breaking the bondage. Truly
knowing that life is worth the living because of the Son. The Son who
shines his love on even me.Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-77221139511465836612011-04-06T08:04:00.000-06:002011-04-06T08:04:42.776-06:00Collecting Love<br />
Packing boxes yesterday, my daughter walks in grinning ear to ear, "Here mommy! It's for you, a beautiful flower!"<br />
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Love.<br />
<br />
She's happy to have something to give.<br />
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Her brother follows a moment later, with hands full of yellow love. Again, I can see the warm emotion, he too is happy to have something to give. Over and over, for some time, in and out. Running fast, tripping a time or two. Short legs returning over and over to give, freely, happily....truly joy-ful.<br />
<br />
Gift Love Joy <br />
<br />
Sparkly eyes giving love, in the form of a weed. <i>Isn't that weed me?</i> I can be a weed, so broken and despised but only through love am I turned around right. Used for love, me, a simple weed.<br />
<br />
Love transforms<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Written Sunday, March 27)</span><br />
<br />
We've been away, visiting family and return now, full of thanks and love.<br />
The list from our 12 day gallivant...<br />
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<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/multitudesonmondaysbutton2-1.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
158. gazing at the waning gibbous moon following the car window<br />
159. heavy eyelids allowing sleep<br />
160. purple mountains majesty<br />
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161. snow gleaming mountains<br />
162. desert highlands and sagebrush<br />
163. all living plants leaning with the wind<br />
164. husband driving endlessly<br />
165. dozing in the long sunshine<br />
166. The Cricket in Times Square speeding the journey along<br />
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167. clouds blanketing mountains<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSxtRgXV9xzDH22UdLq7izLlDRpEBdSIn4UyI9TMU72h-agJ68EQd5_m2Y87gSv58SPGjXZOcxDyXYVfeUkeElxjheNA0wlTertM7eeYwKqU1PJCt2NHvls7kvHcxB_Ib9k0Hmg/s1600/DSC_5738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSxtRgXV9xzDH22UdLq7izLlDRpEBdSIn4UyI9TMU72h-agJ68EQd5_m2Y87gSv58SPGjXZOcxDyXYVfeUkeElxjheNA0wlTertM7eeYwKqU1PJCt2NHvls7kvHcxB_Ib9k0Hmg/s200/DSC_5738.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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168. rocks<br />
169. The Solid Rock<br />
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170. rocks making a line of shade for ants<br />
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171. humming bird calling<br />
172. kids going on a hummingbird hunt<br />
173. bare feet on sun speckled cement<br />
174. anxious smiles<br />
175. grandma hugs<br />
176. dim sum<br />
177. grandma laughs<br />
178. mercy me, the generous mr love well on repeat<br />
179. dancing all silly with kids<br />
180. snack breaks<br />
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181. dandelions, snugly together<br />
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182. generous smiles<br />
183. parks<br />
184. sun warming jeans and toes<br />
185. flip-flops<br />
186. thump of a baseball into it's mitt home<br />
187. father and son playing ball<br />
188. husbands smirk <br />
189. leaves, speaking in the wind<br />
190. wheels round rolling<br />
191. strong muscles<br />
192. cardboard boxes<br />
193. hand cream<br />
194. little boy, late night snuggles<br />
195. overtired kids keeping emotions in check<br />
196. backs, vertebrae many and one in a spine strong<br />
197. girls swinging legs<br />
198. unpacking, finding a place for grandma things<br />
199. kids snuggling with grandma <br />
200. moms grateful for children<br />
201. moms hugging sons<br />
202. air mattresses<br />
203. freeways, wide and open<br />
204. peaceful drives, kids occupied<br />
205. brothers greeting<br />
206. birthday parties<br />
207. family gathering<br />
208. children exploring the unfamiliar<br />
209. salads with apple and tangerine<br />
210. eucalyptus trees<br />
211. family opening their homes<br />
212. generosity<br />
213. Aunts<br />
214. fun and games<br />
215. afternoon relaxing in gorgeous backyard<br />
216. hummingbirds darting<br />
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217. hawks returning and leaving their nest<br />
218. pine trees<br />
219. an Aunt reading books to eager kids<br />
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220. uncle and husband chatting computer language<br />
221. sister-in-laws<br />
222. remembering how to drive in CA traffic<br />
223. sand<br />
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<br />
224. beach rocks gathered by strong husband hands<br />
225. each rock it's own color<br />
226. kids racing with waves<br />
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227. little girl, hesitant at first, feeling safe in the shallow swells<br />
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228. little boy jumping and screaming with delight through the waves<br />
229. mama eyes, watching with delight<br />
230. Great Aunts and Uncles<br />
231. sleep coming to small eyelids<br />
232. city streets<br />
233. parking meters<br />
234. "your mom and I got married up on that rooftop"<br />
235. seals, sprawling on jagged rocks for sleep <br />
236. seals, awkwardly moving on sand<br />
237. seals, gracefully swimming<br />
238. fish tacos<br />
239. smelling the sea breeze<br />
240. just being together<br />
241. dirty laundry bag (smelling like the ocean)<br />
242. choked up good-byes<br />
243. favorite drive up the coast<br />
244. reconnecting<br />
245. HOT spring cali day<br />
246. walking in Santa Barbara<br />
247. "this is where your dad and I met each other"<br />
248. ice cream on the pier<br />
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249. holding hands<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15n29gWxHg9NRtUDVUf8YY54j_yO33y0Ypm7GNEXvGEWXsvjrkc0nS9kpfDgmbVabvCcZ3t029STvlSZeYBbkyQtVviBq1Q1sIVrG6e-0l7hQcJnyDZubJZEeSuh7eE8WbiNqrQ/s1600/DSC_6003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15n29gWxHg9NRtUDVUf8YY54j_yO33y0Ypm7GNEXvGEWXsvjrkc0nS9kpfDgmbVabvCcZ3t029STvlSZeYBbkyQtVviBq1Q1sIVrG6e-0l7hQcJnyDZubJZEeSuh7eE8WbiNqrQ/s320/DSC_6003.jpg" width="212" /></a><br />
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250. carrying the one with the tiny legs<br />
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251. little one snuggling face into my shoulder, hugging tight<br />
252. Hugging my Gram!<br />
253. comfort in old memories while making new ones<br />
254. kids pulling out old favorite books for Great Gram to read 'Stop That Ball' 'The Big Red Pajama Wagon' 'Keeko'<br />
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255. Gram's smile<br />
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256. "Good morning God, this is your day. I am your child, show me your way."<br />
257. More Aunts, Uncles and cousins - more family together<br />
258. glass of wine, chatting with the gals<br />
259. clam chowder<br />
260. juicy strawberries<br />
261. lemons<br />
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262. kids finding new games (and the willing participants)<br />
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263. cousins playing card war<br />
264. making up<br />
265. tire swing<br />
266. deer staring at us, right out the window, for a very long minute<br />
267. orange juice, fresh sqeezed<br />
268. sunsets<br />
269. rolling coastal hills, green from rain<br />
270. surfers entertaining<br />
271. tears welling, driving away<br />
272. lips turning upward at memories<br />
273. 14 hours in the car together<br />
274. home in our own beds<br />
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-20790311899231101402011-03-22T21:45:00.006-06:002011-03-22T22:02:59.336-06:00Full thanksMotherhood is a thankless job. We are told that. I played victim to it this morning, cleaning spilled (rice) milk, a squished banana segment and crumbs of shredded wheat. The milk, still seeping through the crack in the table leaf, the thought comes: who is thankless?<br />
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If I find myself complaining about cleaning after these pudgy, clumsy fingers, I cannot be thankful for them at the same time. If I find myself feeling pity-ful then can I at the same moment be filled with gratitude for this gift of the day, the life, the Light?<br />
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Obviously not, I have to learn to choose the thanksgiving for myself. The thanks for the sunny person, attached to fingers that find cups so slippery. The thanksgiving that I am healthy enough to be the one cleaning up and that the little fingers are healing and healthy enough to be making the messes in the fist place.<br />
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They do help with a fair share around here and are always grateful when I save legos from the roaring vacuum. I used to say, "their smiles are thanks enough." Of course they are! Now my thoughts lean my heart to say - <i>my</i> smile of gratefulness is what is enough.<br />
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Last weeks list...<br />
<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/multitudesonmondaysbutton2-1.jpg" /></a>106. Rain drops pitter, patter
107. Day dreaming eyes out the window
108. Watching raindrops hit puddles on pavement
109. Patterns of circles, polka dots, created by rain drop waves
110. Listening and boy dancing to the rhythmic pounding, drip, drip drop.
111. Little boy voice sing, song, "sneaky e makes a say it's name. Sneaky e is famous!"
112. duck, duck and goose
113. Running in circles, until dizziness overcomes
114. Dizzying haze tickle fight
115. Filling up our 'heart tanks' with hugs and snuggles
116. Oven baking, extra heat escaping, warming.
117. Whole wheat, ground goodness
118. Freezers, to hold my brown bananas until I'm ready
119. Banana muffins, crumbly and sweet
120. Fingers through soft, short hair at bedtime
121. Dishwasher thumping methodically downstairs
121. Band-aids to cover the evidence of hurt
122. Giggles, while peeling off the band-aid strips
123. Taking time to watch the ducks
124. Independent boy, making himself breakfast
125. Jello, sweet, peachy, goes down easy
126. The boys, healthy, dressed, holding down the fort
127. The girls, pale, snuggling under blankets
128. Bathrobes
129. Applesauce, fruit from last years harvest
130. Robins chirping
131. Tulips faithfully pushing the hard earth away
132. Little girls big, purposeful skips
133. Feeling better
134. Warming wet, towel covered arms with firm, quick strokes
135. Brave little girl, watching stitches get snipped
136. One tiny lip quavering for only a moment
137. A smile and talking to the nurse about favorite princesses
138. A tea party to celebrate no more stitches 139. Camel's 'hump' park 140. walks with friends 141. climbing trees 142. first scraped knees and scratches telling spring is arriving 143. SPRING! 144.kids playing game after game of sequence on a Saturday afternoon 145. huckleberry pancakes 146. kids sharing memories of foraging for huckleberries last summer 147. Husband, who just knows howButterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-72731125561296913732011-03-14T22:27:00.000-06:002011-03-14T22:27:41.822-06:00PatienceThe other day my daughter and I were in a public restroom, she looks up at me and in a very demanding (and altogether too grown sounding) voice says, "I've told you fifty times that <i>I</i> want to rip the toilet paper."<br />
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I'm still a work in progress too.<br />
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The past week of entries on my list.<br />
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52. ooooohing and aaaaaahing over a baby much newer than mine.<br />
53. Tiny baby socks, how they like to wiggle down to show off cute toes.<br />
54. My funny kids, big brother saying, "She's so cute, I can hardly take my eyes off her." Sister says, "She is just so cute, I can hardly stand her."<br />
55. long sister chats, laughter.<br />
56. husband, singing over soapy pots, scrubbing<br />
57. Six year old reading words I haven't taught him.<br />
58. silky, smooth, gold fabric<br />
59. the hum of a sewing machine<br />
60. the strong, slender thread plodding away, over and over<br />
61. Pretty new pillows<a href="http://butterflymama.blogspot.com/2011/03/ear-to-ear.html"> to make me smile</a><br />
62. God's character traits looked at with new eyes<br />
63. Friends to hold dear and how we safely hold each other<br />
64. Trust.<br />
65. Purple cabbage, beautiful purple and white trimmed slivers, tangy bites<br />
66. Carrot, citrus, cabbage, ginger juice - tastes of freshness.<br />
67. cabbage pulp turning dishwater a soft periwinkle blue<br />
68. husbands hands faithfully chopping onions and garlic<br />
69. the end of last years tomato harvest simmering, melding<br />
70. pasta sauce, spattered back splash<br />
71. smell of pasta sauce from ceiling to floor<br />
72. ear to ear boy grins<br />
73. imaginations, wild west meets Dora the explorer<br />
74. little boy staying in character - it's fun having a sheriff around<br />
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75. an especially chatty day with that sheriff/boy.<br />
76. Sheriffs only rule, penned himself, "Your rules are you shall come to my palace if you need anything."<br />
77. The 'sneaky letters' (silent e's)<br />
78. pineapple, perfectly yellow, sugar sweet and golden tart.<br />
79. my beautiful sister, knowing just what I need and getting me pretty sticky notes!<br />
80. the calm during the storm<br />
81. tiny body sprawled on mine, giving away stress to take on sleep.<br />
82. Novocaine, modern emergency medicine<br />
83. sutures holding the <a href="http://butterflymama.blogspot.com/2011/03/still.html">broken</a> back together<br />
84. ice cream, sprinkles and cupcakes with pink frosting<br />
85. netflix veggie-tales marathon<br />
86. long rests, snuggles and kisses<br />
87. forgiveness<br />
88. tiniest freckles on 6yo nose<br />
89. vulnerability of friends<br />
90. "I spy, my little eye, something yellow."<br />
91. Colors of beautiful flowers, brightening up the days<br />
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92. recipient adoring flowers, holding them close, moving from room to room wherever she goes<br />
93. knitting needles for flag poles<br />
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94. waffles, puffy, crunchy pockets for sticky sweet syrup<br />
95. baptism <br />
96. "Neither life nor death shall ever From the Lord His children sever; Unto them His grace He showeth, And their sorrows all He knoweth."<br />
97. washing a pinky wound, praying for healing for the wounds not seen <br />
98. spinning hair, dizzying<br />
99. painting, mixing color after color<br />
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100. masterpiece after masterpiece, right at my kitchen table<br />
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101. boy colors of fruit - fruits of the spirit, he calls it<br />
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102. skype, kids able to read to grandparents and see smiling faces<br />
103. healing beginning <br />
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104. using her right hand again<br />
105. <a href="http://butterflymama.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-so-i-always-remember.html">being special</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/multitudesonmondaysbutton2-1.jpg" /></a>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-57732835555684933472011-03-12T22:12:00.001-07:002011-03-12T22:13:20.789-07:00Ear to ear<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/33o32C0ogVM" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
This song popped into my head today and I've been loving humming it and bursting out in song all afternoon. Yes, life is a musical around here, it really is, move over Rodgers & Hammerstein!<br />
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I had the opportunity to visit a friend's home last weekend, whom I adore. She's just so very real and lovely and her house is adorable, she had little things everywhere that were adorable. Did you get that? Adorable, there I said it again! Some people just have that sense for home decorating that I completely lack. <br />
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It inspired me to look at my home and to put out things that would make me smile. I made a couple new throw pillows and hung up some accessories above my sewing nook.<br />
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I purchased a cheap firm bed pillow at target instead of two pillow forms (they can get pricey) I sliced it in half and sewed the unfinished ends together. It looked messy, but I don't claim to be a professional! Besides I'm making a cover to go over it so I didn't mind. It fits me, the honest messiness underneath. *grin* <br />
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Anyway, I had purchased this pillow and some red corduroy fabric last fall. The fabric looked like it had more burgundy tones in Joann's but when I got it home, next to my other pillows with green tones, it looked too Christmas-y. Discouraged, I set the fabric over my sewing chair, where it has happily lived for the last several months.<br />
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I came upon <a href="http://www.citytv.com/cityline/home/diyprojects/article/111811--the-five-minute-cushion">this tutorial</a> on Tuesday and I couldn't resist. It was extremely easy and probably would take 5 minutes if you were using one piece of fabric plus a bit of cutting and ironing time. I couldn't do it that easy though since I had to go through my entire bin of fabric to find coordinating fabrics, which I wanted to use to tone down and coordinate with the red.<br />
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I think it worked out great and I do smile every time I see them.<br />
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I was thrilled to find a sewing desk last fall that was left over from a youth group yard sale and was being donated. I sold my old roll top desk, (love craigslist) that was glorified storage and never actually sat at, replaced it with this old, but still in decent shape desk. It needs to be refinished but I feared that if I sat it in the garage I'd never get to it. I LOVE having a place where my sewing machine can live, ready to work at a moments notice.<br />
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Wanting to cozy up the little sewing nook, I had already purchased a little metal dress frame that I hung up on the wall above. I found some other items to hang on the wall that too lift the edges of my mouth. Perhaps that's the trick to interior decorating that I never new. Just display things that make you smile, and you'll be alright. I have some plans for the living room and to refinish the little sewing desk...for the next day that inspiration + time + work = smiles.<br />
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A few of my favorite things... <br />
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-48134167067257658932011-03-11T22:00:00.001-07:002011-03-11T22:02:11.402-07:00Just so I always rememberLast night while laying in bed watching my three year old drift off, opens her eyes wide, turns to me and says, "Mommy, you're special." Followed by a deep, rich smile.
She doesn't even know what a blessing she is.Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-28634205114455000662011-03-10T23:47:00.000-07:002011-03-10T23:47:35.717-07:00StillLife is not an emergency. I read those words a couple weeks ago in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/One-Thousand-Gifts-Fully-Right/dp/0310321913/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1299535425&sr=8-1">Ann Voskamp's book</a>. Slow down, life is happening and in the hurried, careless motions I'm missing what it is about. <br />
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It was really nice to remember that today, in the midst of a more emergent situation. My little three year old has stitches, five of them, in her tiny pinkie finger. Really, I'm just amazed at the calmness that was over every one of us during each minute of the ordeal. An unfortunate occurrence with a door...in fact this little girl has had her fingers in doors more times than I can remember in her tiny life. <br />
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It was crazy busy in the ER, but there was a peace in our room, she even fell asleep for a time. Princess dress, is now stained red and scars have ripped into our psyches, the bravest princess she is, healing has begun. They gave her a stuffed bear and told her that she was the best patient they'd ever had. She named the bear 'honey bear' because it was yellow with a pretty heart on it. <br />
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A bit upset that they had to wrap her whole hand just for a cut on the tip of her tiniest finger (to restrict mobility) she refused to put any shirt on at bed time. Well, until brother brought his favorite Star Wars t-shirt in, way easier to maneuver onto a bandaged hand.<br />
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She's upstairs in Mommy's bed cuddling her new bear that she kissed several times before allowing her eye lids to flutter closed for the night. Thank you God for my little children and your Grace...<br />
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-50739174213406713682011-03-07T17:21:00.000-07:002011-03-07T17:21:16.555-07:00Again newIt feels to me, that a new year starts in the month of March. Perhaps it is all the new growth and new life emerging from the dormant, death of winter. Looking back across all my years, it has forever felt this way to me, perhaps, because it is the month when I joined this world. Emerged from a warm, cozy womb to cold, beautiful world. It<i> is</i> my new year, the time of my first breaths, the next year I am blessed with life. <br />
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The beginning of <a href="http://butterflymama.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-cleaning.html">this list</a> began nearly a year ago, and in my meanderings, the gems of life have been appreciated, but not recorded. Now that I am reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/One-Thousand-Gifts-Fully-Right/dp/0310321913/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1299535425&sr=8-1">her book</a> I have become compelled to write things down in the little, warn, notebook in my purse. The one that has pages ripped out and pencil drawings on many pages buy my artist-of-a-three-year-old. Bits of her, sprawled down throughout the supermarket. It now records the beauty of life, the gifts I find as I live in each moment. I'm looking, and they are abundantly there, precious, amazing things.<br />
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Today in pilates class I realized that I have spent the majority of my days wishing. Wishing for things to go my way. Wishing for a different, more perfect body. Wishing for selfish, selfish things. This is the year that thanksgiving is beginning to pour over me as hot tea filling a cup. Warmth. It is amazing to feel it. My heart feels like spring on a cold winter day, full of color and life inside a cold aging body.<br />
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26. Flags, snapping in the wind.<br />
27. The sweet smell after a warm rain.<br />
28. Everything washed clean by the beating of rain drops. <br />
29. Finding cloud shapes in the dusk sky.<br />
30. A cloud that can be a tornado, a T-Rex and a woodpecker all at once.<br />
31. Tiny, unseen droplets of water that make that cloud.<br />
32. Slender crescent moon <br />
33. Giggles that squeak!<br />
34. Crisscrossed ankles.<br />
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35. Naps in the sunshine.<br />
36. Gentle, joyful interruptions to nap time.<br />
37. Waking to my tiniest one's joyous songs.<br />
38. Snowflakes, big, wet and sticking to all of creation.<br />
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39. Operation Worm Rescue, by my tenderhearted boy.<br />
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40. Gentle reminding that even birthday is not about me, but opportunities to show little ones they are loved deep at any hour.<br />
41. Pajamas under snow gear.<br />
42. The right song playing at just the right time.<br />
43. Warming cold fingers between my own warm palms.<br />
44. Snuggling a chilled body with damp, stringy, locks smelling of snow and frost.<br />
45. Watching snowflakes dance; circling, floating, falling, lifting.<br />
46. Husband, warm, crooked smiles!<br />
47. White-chocolate, peanut butter cheese cake. mmmmmm.<br />
48. Birthday balloons, kids singing 'happy birthday' all the live long day!<br />
49. Birthday wishes arriving all day, bringing smile after smile.<br />
50. Gifts, wrapped, and cards written and colored with crayon.<br />
51. Sun, magnified, reflecting off melting snow. <br />
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<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/multitudesonmondaysbutton2-1.jpg" /></a>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-21480712462105682052011-03-02T22:38:00.000-07:002011-03-02T22:38:58.625-07:00In my dreams,...I live in Greece. There are nights when I make pita bread from scratch, Adam makes gyros, tzatziki sauce the whole dining room, transforms to a villa swept by an ocean breeze. My hair has billowing curls and I wear the simplest flowing dress in pale, the palest, blue to match the sea.<br />
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At times I wish I still lived in NY, NY. The bustle and contact with people outside of the metal box of an automobile. The museums, performances, the restaurants, parks and pigeons, so much at the tips of my now typing fingers.<br />
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The memories of San Diego, they do not escape the what if game in my head. Ohhhhhhhh, the hot sand between my toes, the sweet smell of jasmine on a late night stroll, the most perfect weather all the year long. Yes, especially on a cold winter's night, I wish we still lived there.<br />
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Actually, I'm thankful for the gifts and glimmers of wonderment that my children give me right where we are. I'm thankful for my man, who's happy to cook dinner and the amazing times we have, even if we don't live in one of the top 10 most beautiful places in the world. I make sure to get sand between my toes during the summer, we do many available activities, all in all, we are perfectly here. Right here. This is the number one place in the world for me, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.<br />
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The overheard conversation that led my thoughts....<br />
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<i>Scene: Buckling into the car after church </i><br />
Gabi: <i>(over-emphasized for effect)</i> I wish we lived at church. I really do. I really wanna live at church.<br />
Nathan:<i> (with compassion)</i> Everyone else is leaving too.<br />
<i>short pause</i><br />
Gabi: I....I wish I married Pastor, then I could live at church. <br />
Nathan: <i>(slowly, with a know-it-all-attitude)</i>You can't, he's already married to a woman, Pastor's wife. <br />
Gabi:<i> (whiny)</i> But I really wanna live at church.<br />
Mom: <i>(can't help but chime in)</i> Pastor's wife is Mrs. Pastor and who knows what life has instore Gabi, you're only 3.<br />
Gabi: I'm three-and-a-half.<br />
Mom: Yes, three-and-a-half. Yes, yes. <i>(Far away empty sounding)</i> maybe someday you'll marry a pastor.<i> (Mom drives pulls out of the parking lot listening again.)</i><br />
Gabi: Well, I have to marry a boy.<br />
Nathan: <i>(quickly)</i> Yes, it has to be a boy, and you'll have kids.<br />
Gabi: I'll marry you!<br />
Nathan: No! <i>(tentatively)</i> I'll already be married.<br />
Gabi: <i>(searching)</i> How about Joe?<br />
Nathan: <i>(again soft and unsure) </i>Well......maybe......if he's not already married to someone else.<br />
Gabi:<i> (with confidence)</i> He's not married, he's just a boy!<br />
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-20220896096900945262011-02-14T10:21:00.002-07:002011-02-14T10:21:51.585-07:00LOVE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-5651981327052769452011-01-25T21:16:00.000-07:002011-01-25T21:16:37.325-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had such grand thoughts of what would get done, today.<br />
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The kiss that woke me with a smile said it's morning time mommy. It began, today. My intentions to get caught up on the work that is mine, this home, were true. What I didn't know...that's always where I get caught off guard, like I should know how this day is going to go from that first morning kiss. Who am I kidding!<br />
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I didn't know that plans, grander stil<u>l</u>, were in store for this
day. The laundry and dishes are still waiting but my heart is so filled
with moments of now, today, here. I saw toes and space and more kisses
and hugs than the whole week before. I wandered from room to room
knitting together these moments that made today. Sometimes it feels
right to set aside, intentions and goals and focus intently what really hold us together. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first completed knitting project, on it's handsome owner.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhjVlPvYEdMDh7naahjN0KgzO2t2MFqTCYDasdkRr312eSqMP899T1kzxAZLtjI3-lvq199i7xvMx77XcoN35P2GEaYP4U0DvL2j9oETIa0UlWerLBvaATaKkrlJhADMjAGvtQQ/s1600/DSC_5143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhjVlPvYEdMDh7naahjN0KgzO2t2MFqTCYDasdkRr312eSqMP899T1kzxAZLtjI3-lvq199i7xvMx77XcoN35P2GEaYP4U0DvL2j9oETIa0UlWerLBvaATaKkrlJhADMjAGvtQQ/s320/DSC_5143.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Space ship, complete with an escape pod, that actually detaches.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMYgkdLTxIs-vVmlxjrFgI63Kxcj9fl2uPMpHuHJOrHCIzPAYCo1CnHJeXt0lZrAXT0JepV8QTruutDLUITkFpG_TS6ky31Ivbld0TrYHg3nyu1pWLtoiISRyAfj5LCq1K1UxIQ/s320/DSC_5189.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching How to Train Your Dragon for extra snuggle time at the end of the day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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My heart is full, of that feeling, you know the one you get when you look at a little baby. That's how the end of today finds me, soft, tender, radiating love. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9vO8ifv07IPjNlIkUO0hZGWbGiMMV4lkZxCdNer9zpYLRgqH3ptuaaz5rhwn8kodkhGC5TLqhtrmFOOXm60z5EyrotBuic1e6lq82Aog-4KwjLjOa0fS0bGNdcr1cTmE3_1K4w/s1600/DSC_5095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9vO8ifv07IPjNlIkUO0hZGWbGiMMV4lkZxCdNer9zpYLRgqH3ptuaaz5rhwn8kodkhGC5TLqhtrmFOOXm60z5EyrotBuic1e6lq82Aog-4KwjLjOa0fS0bGNdcr1cTmE3_1K4w/s320/DSC_5095.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A couple weeks ago, holding a baby for the first time. I love her face!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-55430051041704879022011-01-11T23:59:00.002-07:002011-01-12T22:43:43.711-07:00Twenty-ElevenThis was so much fun <a href="http://butterflymama.blogspot.com/2009/12/our-wishes-to-you-for-2010.html">last year </a>, I couldn't wait to do it again this year, but I couln't find the time either! Now that we are eleven days in, I have found some visual aids to send you some wishes and thoughts for the new year.<br />
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May 2011 bring you to new heights,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYoopq1x2Uz0IjViJHrkGykt-eXjkOM2So8J51ZUuP843Z3RALY-C2JToI8sLrmyZ9MuO8Pn4DQR3zsGYkwrtE3NXuLBwD_1L9IpHAslexKzADPTST7GLD3JGYYWbuiVYudQ6LQ/s1600/DSC_4677es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYoopq1x2Uz0IjViJHrkGykt-eXjkOM2So8J51ZUuP843Z3RALY-C2JToI8sLrmyZ9MuO8Pn4DQR3zsGYkwrtE3NXuLBwD_1L9IpHAslexKzADPTST7GLD3JGYYWbuiVYudQ6LQ/s320/DSC_4677es.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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grounded by reflections on the year before,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ybfkZC3IhGDkcx7ny9SU7ycrxKB_sIdVBLpCSXAWNftr2votFv-1y_Nu2xZIjKugMulcd8506Cmp54kqFrtqG__Yuz0WQDPhsAO1-a38yV5gYYQUibcmGn-jf73GOXBSXar-Ig/s1600/DSC_4977es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ybfkZC3IhGDkcx7ny9SU7ycrxKB_sIdVBLpCSXAWNftr2votFv-1y_Nu2xZIjKugMulcd8506Cmp54kqFrtqG__Yuz0WQDPhsAO1-a38yV5gYYQUibcmGn-jf73GOXBSXar-Ig/s320/DSC_4977es.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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savoring each and every moment, </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4X2jNnXbo9gW5RpLTa101Iup0XgLyvq1RDlrUGvJW1bs9F0M14i_VDRuYmEgAIhJSxKSXTiyIWP3EDqHXhCTGysUXS7TJH-OG7pWkd3orDOe2O7GNVrHXUJ4zy1vz9K5R_TCjaQ/s1600/DSC_2763es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4X2jNnXbo9gW5RpLTa101Iup0XgLyvq1RDlrUGvJW1bs9F0M14i_VDRuYmEgAIhJSxKSXTiyIWP3EDqHXhCTGysUXS7TJH-OG7pWkd3orDOe2O7GNVrHXUJ4zy1vz9K5R_TCjaQ/s320/DSC_2763es.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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taking every opportunity to dance and make music,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclDJfwPwOVqXiBQeYrIFZNhinHZctUYXDSWuRXjTMz_dzWE4yfiwJnNeo9Ruua1tjkVqOxaedIu_ssJKc42BLPl-6vlk3a-XHoorWvauUGkQsLqVvdLNexYT5SECw7Q3Z95IAmw/s1600/DSC_4437e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclDJfwPwOVqXiBQeYrIFZNhinHZctUYXDSWuRXjTMz_dzWE4yfiwJnNeo9Ruua1tjkVqOxaedIu_ssJKc42BLPl-6vlk3a-XHoorWvauUGkQsLqVvdLNexYT5SECw7Q3Z95IAmw/s320/DSC_4437e.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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accept even the meekest offers of help,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XNNPCKPRHWupLSk4vUehFWzHIO7ufflMkoXi8dQV2niyyL3qjBWVPLROCmj7UFHX_CPY7rOsGYcSmu08h14iR4Vx-__gLCNXeoUmoOUQ_FhrCmwQJZIV2FBtEzr-ziOZvQ_7QA/s1600/DSC_4442e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XNNPCKPRHWupLSk4vUehFWzHIO7ufflMkoXi8dQV2niyyL3qjBWVPLROCmj7UFHX_CPY7rOsGYcSmu08h14iR4Vx-__gLCNXeoUmoOUQ_FhrCmwQJZIV2FBtEzr-ziOZvQ_7QA/s320/DSC_4442e.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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find togetherness,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uhPHkjetfBHMpTcc1B0DQeQdjPyTuUa7iMAMs7F6ZaNySGuRqK7dbBW_1eaNxOtM_Lef6yphdMJKcyigM8QpTs7TbDCfzkKWHrnPGNnYt7W-Abd8Br3-SZJfi1QfOcDWn15obA/s1600/DSC_3993e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uhPHkjetfBHMpTcc1B0DQeQdjPyTuUa7iMAMs7F6ZaNySGuRqK7dbBW_1eaNxOtM_Lef6yphdMJKcyigM8QpTs7TbDCfzkKWHrnPGNnYt7W-Abd8Br3-SZJfi1QfOcDWn15obA/s320/DSC_3993e.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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fight the good fight,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdkrRw3LZUUWkLLFnVgc9i_Av8QV8t6Awf5aT-axiQC7LSfZEwcaw1QInJC1lYQrHzLA-9iEhyphenhyphen_JFPTJiM6OEOERNOoPV424iYMze8UdbCxeJ9ZYPFMvwGMRmt3P4iaurt0zBhw/s1600/DSC_4252e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdkrRw3LZUUWkLLFnVgc9i_Av8QV8t6Awf5aT-axiQC7LSfZEwcaw1QInJC1lYQrHzLA-9iEhyphenhyphen_JFPTJiM6OEOERNOoPV424iYMze8UdbCxeJ9ZYPFMvwGMRmt3P4iaurt0zBhw/s320/DSC_4252e.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuBPdzqu8OUSPbCD2IVsvA_mYb3Oc0MviQhFyAWiS7KqZmgQ5ROugGK08rgjxyNRKp596OCGhlJZZ_itI3Z-oJ8MsYI4vHEBUXEmxCorZaSPe7Yts22PmxBqVUAZMmPnnddO_-A/s1600/IMG_20101018_172357e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcOIYj-nCUN7yXHzep0UDixLKeTpFLz1QJghRkz2IzpT-yqv7dVKTAONkbhlcvfwOHTAk8CyCT1SS7uY0xVpGwf8QQm2203YUD1kjw-aV_CvE2-o2TkXdfLP-TYGv75AGFPUzUg/s1600/DSC_4004e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcOIYj-nCUN7yXHzep0UDixLKeTpFLz1QJghRkz2IzpT-yqv7dVKTAONkbhlcvfwOHTAk8CyCT1SS7uY0xVpGwf8QQm2203YUD1kjw-aV_CvE2-o2TkXdfLP-TYGv75AGFPUzUg/s320/DSC_4004e.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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view life<br />
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through another's eyes,<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuBPdzqu8OUSPbCD2IVsvA_mYb3Oc0MviQhFyAWiS7KqZmgQ5ROugGK08rgjxyNRKp596OCGhlJZZ_itI3Z-oJ8MsYI4vHEBUXEmxCorZaSPe7Yts22PmxBqVUAZMmPnnddO_-A/s1600/IMG_20101018_172357e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuBPdzqu8OUSPbCD2IVsvA_mYb3Oc0MviQhFyAWiS7KqZmgQ5ROugGK08rgjxyNRKp596OCGhlJZZ_itI3Z-oJ8MsYI4vHEBUXEmxCorZaSPe7Yts22PmxBqVUAZMmPnnddO_-A/s320/IMG_20101018_172357e.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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cling to the beautiful,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72GMgGk_Z4WM4g5dSbPXtzCASR42kMjSu37Tq9UooAb28aHPEfAQVQEt8OUZeTh1hZI7fhqt023gudTGdlgdRhfkLmyMC6l3xJLl4mBHHcei1UtA5C1jmWfchmHERA_c9QNMJZw/s1600/DSC_4404e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72GMgGk_Z4WM4g5dSbPXtzCASR42kMjSu37Tq9UooAb28aHPEfAQVQEt8OUZeTh1hZI7fhqt023gudTGdlgdRhfkLmyMC6l3xJLl4mBHHcei1UtA5C1jmWfchmHERA_c9QNMJZw/s320/DSC_4404e.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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be yourself,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3iwoRhoq5cQ1eMLRizG-SeApNSHnmt583gfN6iY0bJ9Ctb1xabTpY2SpYkY1wLYrXCByejUy-pnQjPHM_O1Xrk24-qpjQnxxvgs5gAohXyBpVF7EIOfwBpfoMdsRDgPc7FSB0g/s1600/DSC_4168e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3iwoRhoq5cQ1eMLRizG-SeApNSHnmt583gfN6iY0bJ9Ctb1xabTpY2SpYkY1wLYrXCByejUy-pnQjPHM_O1Xrk24-qpjQnxxvgs5gAohXyBpVF7EIOfwBpfoMdsRDgPc7FSB0g/s320/DSC_4168e.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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find reprieve on a hot summer's day,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65j7GYTX8JtW165vMZ-zCcFxkXVgKVPYo7B06PgRm9m8T5uhpjt4WlVWcruxP9n_-nokQpZNRfj6yVoBKkrdKR1FCnE3U8huRXW8uURX1PVYZ-w-HiNvLUyNPpdkZ8zupm95jhg/s1600/DSC_2774E.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65j7GYTX8JtW165vMZ-zCcFxkXVgKVPYo7B06PgRm9m8T5uhpjt4WlVWcruxP9n_-nokQpZNRfj6yVoBKkrdKR1FCnE3U8huRXW8uURX1PVYZ-w-HiNvLUyNPpdkZ8zupm95jhg/s320/DSC_2774E.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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rejoice in each day,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9xsnoSaoED4qPGyOFAtoNtzCg6tQikQz2POKMdY9ibupTzVyzZy9jHaHX653ZfsEbxVbH4EFRk6aJw51EySkDwVYh7M3y8GkUqXZk0xGe-IMlFg-g02UUTxlLDD47WtbIVbSbpQ/s1600/DSC_4366e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9xsnoSaoED4qPGyOFAtoNtzCg6tQikQz2POKMdY9ibupTzVyzZy9jHaHX653ZfsEbxVbH4EFRk6aJw51EySkDwVYh7M3y8GkUqXZk0xGe-IMlFg-g02UUTxlLDD47WtbIVbSbpQ/s320/DSC_4366e.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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remember your purpose,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLthGwPAbJ7n6ym1bqJ7c5r15UwCEVolkfuE9VNZndFK1goeA2n1zKHI0Kr4seNiu2Krd0zZxD6CQ2spdZ3P-_IEX8wL2OMafYNm4FhJhPVUgV1yFdYJ_1OPhS5MvLRWQ82iT5rQ/s1600/IMG_20110106_092102ec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLthGwPAbJ7n6ym1bqJ7c5r15UwCEVolkfuE9VNZndFK1goeA2n1zKHI0Kr4seNiu2Krd0zZxD6CQ2spdZ3P-_IEX8wL2OMafYNm4FhJhPVUgV1yFdYJ_1OPhS5MvLRWQ82iT5rQ/s320/IMG_20110106_092102ec.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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and may you have many opportunities to give to others, </div>
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especially those with hungry tummies.</div>
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May your light shine all over this whole wide world, </div>
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this year and for many, many more to come. Much love to you...</div>
<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-49890571203049300512010-12-31T15:38:00.001-07:002010-12-31T15:39:58.628-07:00Christmas Blessings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8Tq2H45ivmEQ45WMAuXrk-Y5PKIo9HZRoScwIxziiCxnJWOThkEybo89TIudy6tuaZMPBxENYE__vzMKx0EiOXEvTNIkp_9rqK4dAf9hszWADeXdbjl2SR2aypH9bvJT7v_jjA/s1600/DSC_4865e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8Tq2H45ivmEQ45WMAuXrk-Y5PKIo9HZRoScwIxziiCxnJWOThkEybo89TIudy6tuaZMPBxENYE__vzMKx0EiOXEvTNIkp_9rqK4dAf9hszWADeXdbjl2SR2aypH9bvJT7v_jjA/s320/DSC_4865e.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Christmas has come and gone, a new year waits just over the next sundown and I'm going over the last days, weeks and months in my foggy depths. All I can see was good; it was very, very good. </div>
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My parents are here visiting for two weeks, more than one of which has become memories. Great memories, the kind that can live on when they fly back to New York.</div>
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We only planned a couple of things (other than the big birthday celebration last weekend) intentionally keeping it low key for everyone. When they arrived at the airport it was amazing to see them. I was incredibly grateful to grab them and hug them, not before my kids ran to be scooped up by the same arms that have held me at every age, however. As soon as we arrived at home this song popped into my head and hasn't left.<br />
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It was a mildly warm July day, I stood outside, phone sandwiched between my ear and shoulder pacing around our patio table. I watched my kids playing, shrieking and running as I listened to his voice, the words seemed far away. They were almost unbelievable, I thought the tests would come back normal, but they didn't. Indeed, my dad had prostate cancer. </div>
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I don't think I fully came to grips with it for awhile, maybe not until I saw him in flesh again last week. He had cancer. The rest of the summer was filled with phone calls updating on test results, scans and procedures. Jokes about being injected with radioactive something or other the day of the bone scan and how I should look on the horizon to see if I could see him glowing from 2000 miles away. </div>
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The Dr's were positive and more importantly my Dad was positive too. Certain that they could remove it and he would be cured. My mom, I could tell even from afar, was an amazing assistant to him, supporting him. Even though she needed to have her own biopsy and lump removal in the middle of all of his tests, which, praise God, was cancer free. </div>
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One day in early fall, my dad had his cancer removed. My brother was there to be with my Mom and my kids kept me distracted. I prayed. It was what I could do; I was unable to get back there to hold his hand one more time or sing of God's faithfulness. I prayed and sang with my children. For the surgeons to work carefully and correctly, that God would let me have my dad for a bit longer. That we still had more words to say to one another, that my kids needed more memories. I prayed for comfort for all of us, whatever His will would be.</div>
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The process of healing began and the praises rang out towards the heavens and many weeks later one last phone call about one last test, the cancer is completely gone! Hallelujah! So I can sit now, between my dad and husband, crocheting on the couch and listen to them playfully taking jabs at one another and hear his footsteps on my floor. I found myself this Christmas, kneeling humbly at the foot of the manger whispering to the only innocent babe, thank you, thank you for one more Christmas.<br />
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He's always been faithful to me. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoI73SWJUPPdE4y60U6KYL8Gt57cFhU8EtpX0KkxICaGrsFSLFkMzd6xrje5zE3P5Vz0oemkkmlBe-nvwBHtJOGvkyy8Tsf_q5e8ACifBMLqKxxAkHjPmf4V5dfKiuDwRv89cV8g/s1600/DSC_4923e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoI73SWJUPPdE4y60U6KYL8Gt57cFhU8EtpX0KkxICaGrsFSLFkMzd6xrje5zE3P5Vz0oemkkmlBe-nvwBHtJOGvkyy8Tsf_q5e8ACifBMLqKxxAkHjPmf4V5dfKiuDwRv89cV8g/s320/DSC_4923e.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-81846665058248520802010-12-19T23:38:00.000-07:002010-12-19T23:38:47.060-07:00Love is...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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...knowing even though you might be left bowing next to the Christmas tree, you will be swooped up into a great big hug again very soon.<br />
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...a collection of growing hand prints.</div>
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...Away in a manger. </div>
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...knowing people are behind you.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQSGQUQScg3230aaeuRJbII0nin-qbfGzqFVnX5KXhw-TXiaP25haoW2fw23V5Vmecxq6LnHAoIkB81keF9K0_odBu1vwQapCkiAwtOAFxymyaRcrSNbg2lVnTWYlI65toMxL8Q/s1600/DSC_4752es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQSGQUQScg3230aaeuRJbII0nin-qbfGzqFVnX5KXhw-TXiaP25haoW2fw23V5Vmecxq6LnHAoIkB81keF9K0_odBu1vwQapCkiAwtOAFxymyaRcrSNbg2lVnTWYlI65toMxL8Q/s320/DSC_4752es.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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...Gloria in Excelsis Deo!</div>
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"...a king was He, but no one placed a crown upon His head."</div>
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For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6</div>
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<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-79268827127257566432010-12-18T00:02:00.001-07:002010-12-18T00:02:00.259-07:00OverflowWhen one child decides to upend a behavior, about face and totally change, what can I do? Besides pull my hair out, talk until my eyes bug out, what!?<br />
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I'm hoping it's just the excitement of the season, but my little girl, takes hours to fall asleep. It used to take her five minutes. I was used to this when my son was her age, he always took hours to get to sleep, I learned that there is no super glue safe for eyelids *wink.*<br />
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I know that there is nothing I can do to make another person fall asleep - even though she says every night that if she can sleep in my be she'll go right to sleep- ya, right. It is just really throwing me for a loop this time.<br />
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For everything there is a season, I suppose, I'm having a glass of water toasting this a short season. Yespleasethankyou! Really, I'm just glad she still climbs into bed with us early morning, it's the only time I get to snuggle her anymore. <br />
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She's so busy, she loves babies, puzzles, games and pretty much anything that is mine! Seriously, she loves making a mess, but this is not a new behavior, also grateful she can clean up after herself more. If it's not toothpaste on the walls, it's diaper cream on stuffed animals or foaming handsoap in the doll house for a bubble bath. <br />
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Then there are stickers stuck to every surface not to mention water. God help us if I leave a cup of water upstairs, it gets poured out into a teapot or other suitable or unsuitable container, for that matter, then refilled until forcibly removed. Yesterday topped them all: fabric paint on the carpet. I was so grumpy about it, but it comes out easier than diaper ointment thanks to Dawn, my trusty friend. <br />
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She is so creative and imaginative and I love and admire that. Life does come with limitations, or at least the house we live does. I believe we are above the mazimum allowable cups of water dropped on the carpet already!Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-51230578629503839072010-12-17T00:15:00.005-07:002010-12-17T09:35:05.951-07:00Heart<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9VGLcuP4tZ1oQ3gFhd1FkKJQD8rJbinS3S2ONQYqXpToatKj_H5o4JxdZmFIyu7m1M5G2PecEPlNYPCurYd7z9Q8phK_1MG-vQ8mWwgtVZ8a9xA16H5ZVVOCOGgYgP7f91trlrw/s1600/DSC_3729e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9VGLcuP4tZ1oQ3gFhd1FkKJQD8rJbinS3S2ONQYqXpToatKj_H5o4JxdZmFIyu7m1M5G2PecEPlNYPCurYd7z9Q8phK_1MG-vQ8mWwgtVZ8a9xA16H5ZVVOCOGgYgP7f91trlrw/s200/DSC_3729e.jpg" width="132" /></a><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: magenta;">I need to take the babies to the store. </span><span style="color: blue;">I'll change the diaper, but you need to feed them the milk. <span style="color: magenta;">Awwwww, don't cry, you're okay.</span> Stop arguing right now, fine, time out. </span><span style="color: magenta;">It's night, night time, sweet dreams. </span><span style="color: blue;">Morning time, time to wake up and get dressed sweeties. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBDVrIx0pmturKgdHxW23eYru2Z7XDevubvd63sPejxdfBQl_BMCMI6Bhhpw6sMHDn_9sDaAuCqVog6BgMkipeB7skXihIcRH7dFO5Q2NEdbPaiPstp9vDsenrQzAXGQHvhS5C8w/s1600/DSC_3732e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBDVrIx0pmturKgdHxW23eYru2Z7XDevubvd63sPejxdfBQl_BMCMI6Bhhpw6sMHDn_9sDaAuCqVog6BgMkipeB7skXihIcRH7dFO5Q2NEdbPaiPstp9vDsenrQzAXGQHvhS5C8w/s200/DSC_3732e.jpg" width="132" /></a><span style="color: black;">I love when my children play babies, my daughter is such a tender mom, flinging a baby on each hip and changing diapers like a pro. There is a tender place in my heart for these times. I remember playing that way, now I'm the mom, how on earth!?! Seems like I could be back in the room with the burnt orange and brown shaggy carpet with a large wooden cradle stuffed to the gills with my babies. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7sbnp27mzXcLWzTHHrNVUlt-ZqVuhey-kfliSOvMCVKQGrGLsbHvCBhVKnJXYoeVL-xVgvRk6mh5GtT3hrAo2-B3E4q-GK4-dIncbecH9xMvtw1BadzwwoeT7vGOfWGg66dbVw/s1600/DSC_3734e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7sbnp27mzXcLWzTHHrNVUlt-ZqVuhey-kfliSOvMCVKQGrGLsbHvCBhVKnJXYoeVL-xVgvRk6mh5GtT3hrAo2-B3E4q-GK4-dIncbecH9xMvtw1BadzwwoeT7vGOfWGg66dbVw/s200/DSC_3734e.jpg" width="132" /></a>Taking the role of Dad seriously I smile at the tenderness my son shows in only these times. Being the people person he is, he's happy to play babies if it's all his sister will do, even though he'd rather play with his super hero figures, legos or firemen. I adore him for that. </div>
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I also adore that when another little boy told him that boys don't like babies (we were cooing over a baby that was baptized) he stood his ground and said yes we do! They need a Dad too! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUa18ZHOjxDM5cX4PGgdtDZyR8zvMa4UTXydCAYVxPDuCa_IjSrx-kJs7V3XqFLM0evv8_76A6YV4R5A2hV1n2gU-TUAcb_ATHX_CNVk0IF2fv6k7pbbSw89hs8iVZtaQsN88yg/s1600/DSC_4164e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUa18ZHOjxDM5cX4PGgdtDZyR8zvMa4UTXydCAYVxPDuCa_IjSrx-kJs7V3XqFLM0evv8_76A6YV4R5A2hV1n2gU-TUAcb_ATHX_CNVk0IF2fv6k7pbbSw89hs8iVZtaQsN88yg/s320/DSC_4164e.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-62788278100777375852010-12-15T21:31:00.001-07:002010-12-15T22:12:48.270-07:00InterweaveSome days my heart is heavy, until God picks it up. I often think of the poorest of people and how they can even smile on a day they haven't had anything to eat. My thoughts wonder if their children can bring a chuckle out of them, even if they can't bring home clean water, the way my son knows just the right time to bring in the silly. <br />
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The subject of giving came up in my Pilates class last Friday and as we begin a set of leg lifts, I mention <a href="http://www.owlhaven.net/2010/11/25/blessed-to-be-a-blessing/">blessing others</a> with <a href="http://mycharitywater.org/p/campaign?campaign_id=10702&amt=25.00">clean water</a> in the third world. Immediately two women, who I adore, began talking at once, and they are not saying the words I expected to hear. My brain is trying to take in what they both are now alternating as my leg is rotating in circles. I lead another change in exercise, on to inner thighs now, I process.<br />
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First's argument is that the government will just come and undo whatever good is done upon the do-gooders departure. Second's argument is she'd rather help those in our country before helping other countries.<br />
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I am able to overcome First's perspective right away from what I have been told first hand from several different missionaries overseas. Sadly, I'm sure this has happened, but God has asked us to give. Should we really think that not giving is better than giving that is torn away. Most of what I know is that the governments allow the people to help and tolerate their presence.<br />
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Sitting up, we stretch, prayers stretching heavenward, God there are 12 other people in this class please let them not be swayed by these two opinionated, bold women. Sending my other side down onto the mat, I give simple directions, everyone knows we are repeating the same exercises, perfect opportunity for me to start talking and just as I do three other women pipe up and respectfully disagree with First's harshness.<br />
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I move on as Second still insistently says I'm going to help my own first. There is a lul, why does it have to be one or the other, I offer. Why can't it just be giving to those who are needy, regardless of the lines that mark them in somewhere or out otherwhere? I find soft smiles in a couple of quiet women. I wonder if they think I'm stuck in my ideals not really knowing that the world is a sin laden broken place. I know, which is why I hope I'm always stuck here.<br />
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I am purposed in my words, if there is such a need then who are we if we do not give. I agree, there are poorest of poor people here, where the lines tell us we one, and I love giving to our local food banks, battered women's shelters and the like. The difference I find is that our government has programs in place to aid many needy the vast majority of whom have access to clean, safe drinking water. <br />
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The third world has no programs, nobody hears the cry of the parents for their children, nobody reaches their hands out and how could they. A missionary told our church on Sunday that half of Haiti does not eat on any given day. 50%. How can I comprehend, I feed a snack loving three year old 6 times a day. <br />
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Back to stretching and reaching upward, I am reminded that Jesus said, "The poor you will always have with you." (Mark 14:7) I wonder if we will always have them so that we can always have more opportunities to be his hands and feet. More days to say, yes Jesus, I will feed and nourish your children, like you feed and nourish me. <br />
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Some days my heart is light because I give it to Him - the Great giver of joy- upon waking. Joy, the more of life I experience, the more it is revealed, only comes from one place. Joy is not revealed in how perfect our lives look, how we feel on the inside or look on the outside. Feelings, appearances, careers are all so mercurial. I imagine there is a silly boy on the other side of the world, bringing forth a smile from his mother's dry lips only because of that Joy.<br />
<br />Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-15353393355211411022010-12-01T23:18:00.000-07:002010-12-01T23:18:29.214-07:00A very snowy day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We worked and played and played and played!</div>
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She conquered the shovel!</div>
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Fun with the sleds</div>
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Yummy!</div>
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Uh, haven't you taken enough pictures mom?</div>
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Shoveling is one of my favorite chores. Especially since it is usually accompanied by little squeals of delight from the smaller persons! Now we are all worn out! (Well, I hope they are and KNOW I am!)Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29413918.post-26772061709459465252010-11-28T22:05:00.001-07:002010-11-28T22:05:45.268-07:00A+<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IqwOJgoY-iJLV3Fau9P2amAgSgPJ6IglHSV8YExhzazPbxBEoKSelh3QCruzGkkkElqEfHp6su6P4GHMsODim4XH7ldw3Ya1uK5bdst4UpOCXFPOPb0mAsaZnx6XzEt7WEe-zA/s1600/DSC_4492es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IqwOJgoY-iJLV3Fau9P2amAgSgPJ6IglHSV8YExhzazPbxBEoKSelh3QCruzGkkkElqEfHp6su6P4GHMsODim4XH7ldw3Ya1uK5bdst4UpOCXFPOPb0mAsaZnx6XzEt7WEe-zA/s200/DSC_4492es.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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I am currently on cloud nine from this fantastic holiday weekend. I was reminded of a quote this morning by Dr. Suess, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." I just can't stop smiling. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckhQ1mbz_P788cp5UQTy3FSnE9BbJbH82e1mvFbU-bRIaYnmDQOyBjTTb4dp85ee2RWZ0urUg11IvmbgNUkkOUWW2ARqfG4ZiWhJMPQGlXxPoU5n9pMP9h2iMrG9ol6WVFSQ4Uw/s1600/DSC_4556es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckhQ1mbz_P788cp5UQTy3FSnE9BbJbH82e1mvFbU-bRIaYnmDQOyBjTTb4dp85ee2RWZ0urUg11IvmbgNUkkOUWW2ARqfG4ZiWhJMPQGlXxPoU5n9pMP9h2iMrG9ol6WVFSQ4Uw/s200/DSC_4556es.jpg" width="200" /></a>The couple days before Thanksgiving I prepped and made most of the dishes I was in charge of and that helped to make this one of the smoothest Thanksgivings we've hosted. The other biggie is that along with frying the turkey, my wonderful husband made the<a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/bobby-flay/pumpkin-bread-pudding-with-spicy-caramel-apple-sauce-and-vanilla-bean-creme-anglaise-recipe/index.html"> pumpkin bread pudding</a> dessert and <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/tyler-florence/the-ultimate-potato-gratin-recipe/index.html">potato gratin dishes</a>. He was working in the kitchen the night before while I was top stitching my reversible Thanksgiving/Christmas placemats. I wouldn't be me if I weren't doing something at the last minute *smirk*.</div>
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Thanksgiving was a wonderful day filled with friends and family, a ton of food (given) and games! The younger kids also watched a bit of a veggietales marathon as it began to get toward bedtime. Just a perfect day. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy75NgLtK0O9VqE_Yk-bSbQOgQG5XMOB-uXVAiyQX67QEm8oVijjA4T-BGGeS4-ShJAZZw_F6PnsqEGdJOcSFSe8GQNkVtRccxAPqRXxv1WAiG3JmR3xu2dY8IOd4bPZWLXxq-vw/s1600/DSC_4503es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy75NgLtK0O9VqE_Yk-bSbQOgQG5XMOB-uXVAiyQX67QEm8oVijjA4T-BGGeS4-ShJAZZw_F6PnsqEGdJOcSFSe8GQNkVtRccxAPqRXxv1WAiG3JmR3xu2dY8IOd4bPZWLXxq-vw/s200/DSC_4503es.jpg" width="200" /></a>After sleeping in on Friday and eating chocolate chip pancakes, we hit a bunch of stores to get some Christmas shopping started. I've never shopped on 'black friday' and for a first experience it was very mellow. Busy. Indeed! But all we ran into was friendly people and some very good deals. Now we are almost done with shopping!</div>
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Saturday had a couple of highlights. One was the new disney movie <a href="http://adisney.go.com/disneypictures/tangled/#/home/">Tangled</a>. A bit intense at times for the three year old but all around very fun for the rest of us. My boy sat on the edge of his seat for most of it!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaCXNGMv2h4nYpuQqbfIH25OO8Fhf63od6S9nvBrTqcnJyl5K-MVVCVECF-dwFmHoUUaryNleBn658dpZt60XSeaMhWaX3KnKTxxwxAUBfG6QcOCkL6zFhd8Lk4OZiPThLy6DFDg/s1600/DSC_4511es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaCXNGMv2h4nYpuQqbfIH25OO8Fhf63od6S9nvBrTqcnJyl5K-MVVCVECF-dwFmHoUUaryNleBn658dpZt60XSeaMhWaX3KnKTxxwxAUBfG6QcOCkL6zFhd8Lk4OZiPThLy6DFDg/s200/DSC_4511es.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvhncfYHhTzlZ-qO3kfPFPvFtGkg5JTHSH4znm9GGNCoflP2kUalR3aJtbpUZUxCYEiMtpolvYJIEnw6gtxZj_NdcDHLJ6JSaAuaIibM1egiWXQ-5RF6BY4BQmC_YLr5P772QYw/s1600/DSC_4515es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvhncfYHhTzlZ-qO3kfPFPvFtGkg5JTHSH4znm9GGNCoflP2kUalR3aJtbpUZUxCYEiMtpolvYJIEnw6gtxZj_NdcDHLJ6JSaAuaIibM1egiWXQ-5RF6BY4BQmC_YLr5P772QYw/s200/DSC_4515es.jpg" width="132" /></a>Then we walked around our little downtown just before dusk in a beautiful snow storm. Delightfully looking at Christmas lights and ringing the bell in front of our Capitol building.</div>
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Follow that up with a relaxing Sunday including a tryptophan nap for mom, (a weekend full of turkey will catch up to you eventually) a daughter rearranging jars of applesauce saying, "I'm shopping for winter" and a Dad allowing a son to watch parts of Empire Strikes Back, what more can one gal ask for. I am so very grateful for this fairy tale weekend! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYi-m-jrz0fRD6T7mhYY5yCrRR_Q4xDZLpJlUTvAyXAM6pJNf8KVj3no0M7Z0gcZvBgjEB1tK5cAA_VkuXV8KJmjF6w8jFAAzHEw7MbrQxtiGXXUA9LQydqx4s5Wg6Z3RIMMhUg/s1600/DSC_4548ees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYi-m-jrz0fRD6T7mhYY5yCrRR_Q4xDZLpJlUTvAyXAM6pJNf8KVj3no0M7Z0gcZvBgjEB1tK5cAA_VkuXV8KJmjF6w8jFAAzHEw7MbrQxtiGXXUA9LQydqx4s5Wg6Z3RIMMhUg/s320/DSC_4548ees.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Butterfly Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233857663564199322noreply@blogger.com2