tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450146655770569722024-03-13T08:53:25.013-07:00Pena's PlaceAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-74430184289570873092019-01-29T17:11:00.002-08:002019-01-29T17:11:45.125-08:00Teacher ConfessionCan I make a confession? Please don't tell anyone I work with though....<br />
<br />
I'm not doing what I'm "supposed to do" in class anymore. I've made an executive decision based on my students' needs that I am no longer going to teach they way I've been told. I'm, instead, going to go with my gut, coupled with researched based teaching, and I'm going to teach Reading and Writing the way I think will reach my students.<br />
<br />
And I have to say that for the first time in a long time, I'm excited about teaching again. <br />
<br />
I'm starting by teaching a class novel. No choice reading (gasp!). We are ALL going to read the same book so that we can come together and actually have intellectual conversations about the story. I'm going to teach a writing/grammar lesson each day, sometimes at the start of class, sometimes in the middle, maybe at the end! Who knows?! But, then...we are going to take that grammar lesson and USE IT! We are going to write about what we read that day, and students are going to incorporate whatever grammar lesson we had into that writing. FURTHERMORE, students are going to start identifying the grammar rules in the actual text we are reading, and students are going to practice whatever reading task is given that day (charting the setting, logging character development etc). <br />
<br />
I'm doing it guys. I'm tired of reading passages and articles and answering questions about them. What do I want the most of my students??? I didn't go to college so that I can teach students how to answer questions on a test. I went because I want to inspire students to love to learn. My kids don't love to learn. They don't love to read. This mean I'm not doing what I'm supposed to, so something has to change, and it's not them. <br />
<br />
I began today by introducing a "warm up" to students. It was on FANBOYS and correctly placing commas and conjunctions in compound sentences. The students walked in; I handed them the warm up and told them to get started. I took attendance and picked up test corrections from the atrocious test they took last week and then I told everyone to put their pencils down. <br />
<br />
I went through a really fun lesson of teaching what a BASIC, SIMPLE is and taught them that each sentence has to have a subject (noun) and a predicate (verb). I even added in the tricky "to-be" verbs so that they know those are ALSO verbs. THEN I taught students the rule about joining two complete sentences and needing a comma and a FANBOYS. We even looked at how putting a different FANBOYS in the sentence can change the entire feel of the sentence. Students were able to see that words matter. You can't just pick a random FANBOYS and throw it in there...<br />
<br />
Then we finished the warm up by determining if sentences needed the comma before the conjunction or not. Students had to explain their answers using the rule and by speaking in complete sentences. For example, "No, there is no comma needed because 'marshmallows on ice cream' is not a complete sentence. That means you are NOT joining two COMPLETE sentences, so you don't need a comma." They even learned a little about compound subjects and compound verbs and how they can try to throw in commas in these when they aren't needed. <br />
This may seem basic for a 6th grader, but my students don't have this knowledge yet, regardless of what the state tells me they should already know. So, I have to fill in the gaps. I cannot expect my students to create well written sentences, to vary their sentence structures and incorporate compound verbs....I cannot expect my students to know how to identify a run-on or a compound sentence if they can't first tell me what make a sentence complete.<br />
<br />
I'm going back to the basics y'all. <br />
<br />
I then began an intro to the book I selected for us to read. Yes, I chose. Not the students. Why? I'm the expert in what makes a story "good", and I trust that if I love the book, I can at LEAST get them interested in maybe reading it. I showed the students a couple of book trailers that were created by other students, and we analyzed them. Students made inferences trying to figure out what the story was going to be about. We learned about some persuasive techniques and critiqued which trailer we thought did a better job at enticing us to read the book.<br />
<br />
Then, I made it personal. I described WWII England. I told the students about Germany's air raids, innocent people being killed, and parents having to make the difficult but no-so-difficult decision to send their children to live with perfect strangers in an effort to save their lives. We imagined our parents telling us we had to leave everything we know and go live in a place we know nothing about with a person we know nothing about. We thought about how we may not get to see our parents again. And then we wrote.<br />
<br />
And wrote.<br />
<br />
And some of my students who hate to write were scribbling away. And then we talked about how the setting of a story matters. How the story would not be the same if written now or in the future.<br />
<br />
And we learned some really neat new vocabulary such as "wardrobe", "mantle", and "inquisitive". I mentioned to students why I love this book and shared a personal story about my grandmother's own wardrobe that I used to play in when I was little (which she still has). I also told them about living in Germany before the Berlin wall came down and let them see that this drew me in to this story. Then we learned about CS Lewis and how he actually housed children during the war, which is what inspired him to write this story (I DIDN'T KNOW THIS UNTIL YESTERDAY!!!)<br />
<br />
And then it was time to go.<br />
<br />
<br />
We didn't even get started reading yet!!!<br />
<br />
Y'all, today was the first time in a very long time that I left work with a smile. I came home eager to plan some more. Today, my kids enjoyed writing. They were thinking DEEPLY. They were making Inferences and were connecting!<br />
<br />
My kids were enjoying school. All I do going forward has to be centered on getting these kids to want to learn. The rest will fall in to place.<br />
<br />
<br />
I cannot wait to start reading with them tomorrow and am even more anxious to hear the conversations that I know will ensue. <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-65826527618163954442019-01-28T09:28:00.001-08:002019-01-28T09:28:03.067-08:00Mommy, I'm handsomeI never thought hearing those words would matter so much to me. But, in a world full of people who tear each other down, who can't live up to pressing expectations, who look to all the wrong places for identity confirmation, these words brought tears to my eyes.<br />
<br />
My oldest son has always struggled with self confidence. He's always been a little timid to try things from fear of failure. He has always been very modest and HATES to take off his shirt, even at the pool or beach, unless there is another kid around without a shirt on who isn't bone skinny. My oldest son is a beautiful soul both inside and out, but I have been able to tell for a long time now that he hasn't quite felt up to par on many things, including his looks.<br />
<br />
So, when he walked up to me, grabbed my hand, and said, "Mommy. I didn't used to think I'm handsome, but now I realize that I am," it took all I had not to cry right there. I asked him what made him realize this, and he told me he used to think he wasn't handsome because of his chubby cheeks, but now when he looks in the mirror, he can see he is. My heart smiled, and I reminded him that his chubby, freckled cheeks are one of the things that I THINK make him most handsome. <br />
<br />
The smile on his face was priceless. The feeling in my heart couldn't be matched. My son was feeling good about himself for once, and he felt the need to share that with me. <br />
<br />
I pray over him that he hold on to this scripture and know that simply being the child of God is what makes him so handsome (but he has also been blessed with some good looks and a kind heart too!)<br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Psalm 139:14 "...I am fearfully and wonderfully made"</span></b></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-74931335206285344692018-03-22T12:57:00.000-07:002018-03-22T12:57:13.905-07:00Sweet Astro<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6hNL4U_vB8o/WrQH21-DBkI/AAAAAAAAh9o/kTGmyJulTQg3Q3EANSI-ZzLTSmmvqQbbgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_0348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6hNL4U_vB8o/WrQH21-DBkI/AAAAAAAAh9o/kTGmyJulTQg3Q3EANSI-ZzLTSmmvqQbbgCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_0348.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">On March 2, I
woke up and began my normal daily routine.
I immediately let my three dogs out.
The two boys, Astro and Luke, plow each other over trying to be the
first outside. Lillie strolls out after
them. The boys run around like crazy,
chasing rabbits and doing God only knows what else. Astro barks a few times as he always does.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">As I'm
getting everything ready, my oldest son says, "Astro is having another
seizure."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had become almost
daily now that Astro would have one in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I immediately got him some food with honey to
try to bring his blood sugar up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The vet
had told me recently that Astro most likely had Insulinoma, a cancer that
causes blood sugar to drop dangerously low due to an overproduction of
insulin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is what was causing the
seizures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could usually get him some
honey in his system and it would pull him out of the seizure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lately, it hadn't been helping, but I was
going to try anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Astro seemed
to stop seizing for a little while and I proceeded with getting the boys'
breakfast and packing their lunches for the day etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next thing I know, Astro is panting
ridiculously hard; he's drooling everywhere and then the worst comes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His legs stiffen and spread out to each
side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He cannot get his grip and he
begins to shake more violently than ever before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what really haunts me even today is the
howls he begins to let out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I try to
comfort him, but nothing is helping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
husband comes in from the garage asking what all the noise is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sees Astro and doesn't know how to
respond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bury my face into him and
tell him, "It's really bad."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">But it gets
even worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Astro end up on his side,
still howling, and begin convulsing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
looks like he's trying to run, but I know he has no control over what is
happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the howling won't
stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Astro releases his anal glands and
has an involuntary bowl movement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm
an emotional wreck at this point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">I rush the
boys out of the house and into my car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
can't just leave Astro like this, but we have got to get the kids to
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband volunteers to stay
with Astro as I take the boys to school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Astro stops seizing, but he's completely motionless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I panic because I think he's dying right in
front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His eyes are wide open and
he seems to be staring off into space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
hug him and leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">On my way
back to the house after dropping the boys off, I call the vet's office to see
when they open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I let them know
what is happening, they tell me to get him there by 8.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once I'm home, I immediately ask my husband
if Astro is still alive and he says yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Astro can't walk though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have
him on a sheet and carry him to my car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am crying the whole way because I know this is about to become one of
the worst days of my life. I was right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">The team at
my vet's office immediately brings a stretch and helps us get him into the
room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every single woman working the
front office has tears in their eyes, and these are people who have only met
Astro once before as we just recently switches clinics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They even bring a Spongebob comforter to put
under him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">He still
can't walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is conscious and is
calm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His blood sugar, even after the
honey, measures at only 30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>70 is low
and is when they begin to get concerned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was far beyond that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The vet
talks to me and lets me know that everything he is experiencing is
characteristic of the Insulinoma and will only become more frequent and more
severe as his body cannot process the insulin and cannot handle such low blood
sugar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She mentions that she thinks he
cannot see after the seizure as he is not responding will to stimuli.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This leads his to believe that he could
possibly have a tumor on the brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Our options
are either to go to a specialist to see if there is any possible treatment,
though with his age and the rapid progression of his symptoms, she was pretty
sure it isn't, or humane euthanasia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">While I knew
this was coming, it's not an easy reality to face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I can do is hug Astro and cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that's what I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The vet tells us we can stay, but let's us
know that dogs with seizures sometimes have strange things happen once the
medication hits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They can seize as they
pass, sometimes they have muscle spasms after the pass which can scare
people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decide I shouldn't stay as
those would traumatize me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ernest
stays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We know Astro cannot be alone
during his final moments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">I go out to
the waiting room and have a break down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know that my sweet boy is behind that door about to take his last
breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hear Ernest talking, so I know
it has to be done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knock on the door
and ask if I can come in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The vet says
sure, looks and me and says, "he was ready."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">They assure
me he passed incredibly peacefully, no seizing, no nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said Astro looked up at him, then began to
close his eyes when the sedative took effect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After she gave the euthanasia medication, Ernest said Astro looked like
he was sleeping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ernest kept his arm
around him with his hand on his chest until he could no longer feel it
beating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The vet checked and said,
"He's gone."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">All of this
helps my heart a little, but as I lie down next to him and pet him, my heart
breaks as I keep his face one last time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I look at Ernest and squeak out an, "I don't want to go...I don't
want to leave him here."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ernest
just helps me up and we leave together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Leaving my
beloved dog behind in that room is one of the hardest things I have ever
done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know some people don't
understand, but he was not just a dog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">You see, we
picked him out at the humane society when he was only about 6 weeks old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Astro and his siblings had been dumped on the
side of the road in a cardboard box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Luckily a mom at the humane society had just weened her puppies and took
on Astro and his siblings to feed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Astro was
initially named Houston by the humane society.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn't the puppy I actually wanted, but Ernest wanted a chocolate lab
and Astro looked just like one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, we
got him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To make matters even more sad,
Astro's leg was broken by a large trash can falling on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not reset properly, and he started
having some serious issues later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
him X-rayed and the vet said we could do surgery to input a pin, but it would
go through the growth plate and could cause issues with it growing
properly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we opted, instead, not to,
but to put him on high quality food and joint supplements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily, he healed well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had a knot where it fused together
improperly, but it never caused him issues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">I will never
forget the day I brought him home from the humane society.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband was my fiance at the time and
lived in Houston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was in Corpus
Christi where I was teaching at the time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was living with my parents until Ernest and
I were to get married.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to put
Astro in the kennel that night and he cried and cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I moved it further into the laundry room
hoping I wouldn't hear him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still
did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I moved him into the garage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He still cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can hear my dad telling me, "Jenn,
he's had a traumatic day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was taken
away from him family and is in a new place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe you should let him sleep with you."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He didn't wake up at all that night and he cuddled me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Astro potty trained really well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He rarely had accidents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a matter of fact, I can remember him
holding it until he was literally dribbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Astro moved
with us to Katy once we were married, along with my Boston Terrier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were best pals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Astro was scared of loud noises though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was VERY pregnant with our first
child, we had an unfortunate incident happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was Halloween night and the church behind us shot off fireworks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had taken the dogs out front to potty, but
Astro spooked, wiggled his way out of his collar (he was on a leash) and
bolted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart was broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was gone for 3 weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day I brought my son home from the
hospital, I got a phone call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone
had found him a week ago and had been taking care of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They met us at a gas station nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will always remember when their truck
pulled up and I saw his head pop up in the back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lost it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My baby was home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was skinnier
and a little banged up, but he was so happy to see us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Astro used to
climb on the back of the couch a lie there behind Ernest's head as he watched
TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When my son was in his cradle and
would cry, Astro would go check on him and then come get me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loved his humans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">He barked at
everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a matter of fact, he lost
his voice while staying out in the country with my Aunt while our house was
being built.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mentioned how he was
afraid of everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hated thunder
storms and could always be found in my closet whenever one came.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He escaped from our yard several times by
scaling the fence (I still don't know how he figured this out).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He alerted us when there was someone at the
door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made me feel safe when I was
home alone with the boys while Ernest had to travel for work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Astro was a
lover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He slept on our bed between my
legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never realized how much I loved
feeling his body press against me until I no longer felt that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was also a talker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would come up to you and just talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could even talk back and he'd continue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got really excited whenever it was time to
eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loved chasing rabbits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He rarely ever did anything wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He never chewed up things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn't dig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn't get into things he wasn't supposed
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I say he was a good dog, he
really was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #cccccc;">There's a
huge void that he used to fill up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
feel it when I walk in the front door every day and don't have him there to
greet me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel it when I feed Lillie
and his food mat is still there, but there's no bowl and no one there howling
at me to hurry and feed him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or when I'm
watching TV and he's not sitting right by me anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel it when I have to look a picture now
in order to see his face...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #cccccc;">And my heart
misses him so much more than I ever imagined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-63840137069985344062017-12-08T10:30:00.000-08:002017-12-08T10:38:37.664-08:00Snow in HoustonLast night it snowed.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vZWOJs1WC3M/WircI10CoYI/AAAAAAAAeeE/qKPOlYyoRpgnfv684vXs_PEmcioMcmDWQCLcBGAs/s1600/snowy%2Bhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vZWOJs1WC3M/WircI10CoYI/AAAAAAAAeeE/qKPOlYyoRpgnfv684vXs_PEmcioMcmDWQCLcBGAs/s320/snowy%2Bhouse.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I'll back up by letting you know I was skeptical and thought people were crazy for getting excited about a 10% chance of snow. When you used to live in a place the would receive 6+ feet of snow, a 10% chance isn't enough to get me anxious. Ever since moving to Texas, it really has been a struggle for me to be really excited about Christmas. I do the decorations; I do the lights. I love the way it all looks, but there's always a big piece missing, and that's snow. I struggle to get 100% into the spirit without it.<br />
<br />
Last night, I looked at my phone around 7, and it said there was now an 80% chance of snow at our house around 8 pm. But 8 o'clock came and went and there was no snow. I was a little disappointed especially when I saw the chances had dropped to 30%.<br />
<br />
I longed for the snow and the feeling it gives when you have the ground covered in the powdery white amazingness while Christmas lights are on and tree are decorated. Rooftops covered in a blanket of white. Tree tops...It's all just so crisp and clean looking! I never could put into words the feeling snow brings me, but now, the word that comes to mind is "refreshing". The cold brings in refreshing air. The snow somehow seems to refresh my soul.<br />
<br />
So when the snow first started, I have to admit, I'm pretty sure I was the most excited. I yelled for my kids to come outside, but they weren't very impressed because it wasn't sticking. Shortly thereafter, I went back out and BIG, THICK, powdery flakes were flying. Again, I yell for the boys. My oldest came running and I cannot explain to you the joy I felt in my heart when his mouth fell open and he just stood there in amazement. He then began running around, catching the flakes, and then eating them. Apparently, "Snow tastes good!" My youngest wasn't as interested. He just came out and went right back in. <br />
<br />
This morning, though, I hear little feet and tons of excitement when the boys woke up and saw that the snow had continued to fall through the night and actually stuck. They immediately got bundled up and went to play in the snow. My heart couldn't be much happier, except when one of my dogs began running in it and trying to lap up the snow as he was running. Snow balls were made and thrown. Snow angels. Everything you have to experience when there is snow.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ttr5vgkKjL4/WircBCdkwhI/AAAAAAAAeeA/YnBlPWmoLX0gTJlQmJQPizZQnJeI2k5NACLcBGAs/s1600/kids%2Band%2Bluke%2Bin%2Bthe%2Bsnow%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="219" data-original-width="293" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ttr5vgkKjL4/WircBCdkwhI/AAAAAAAAeeA/YnBlPWmoLX0gTJlQmJQPizZQnJeI2k5NACLcBGAs/s1600/kids%2Band%2Bluke%2Bin%2Bthe%2Bsnow%2B%25282%2529.jpg" /></a>When I say my boys were upset when I told them to go get ready for school, that's an understatement. My oldest pleaded that the snow would be gone when they got home. Part of me really wanted to let them stay home and play in the snow until it melted away. I know this is an experience that they won't get to go through very many times in their childhood and my heart has often broken when I think of the fact that they have never ridden a sled in the snow. But we went to school. <br />
<br />
And when I came home to get ready for work, my heart sank a little when I saw all the footprints in the snow. Brayden is right. When they come home, the snow will be gone. There will be no more footprints, no more snow balls, no more snow piled up on the cars. <br />
<br />
The snow of '17 will already be a memory for my boys. While I wish it would have lasted longer, I'm forever grateful that it is an experience they were able to go through even for a short while. I'm thankful that for a short time, nobody was worried about anything other than living in that one moment. I'm thankful that neighbors came out, smiles were shared, laughter was abundant, and time slowed down. Even if just for a minute.<br />
<br />
THIS is Christmas.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-59700396554858311532017-09-29T07:03:00.005-07:002018-03-22T12:58:17.919-07:00The Mom/Wife Life<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Proverbs 31:25-30</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.”</em></div>
<br />
I never realized how thankless a job it can be to be a mom/wife until I became one. Funny how that works. It's just like thinking I'd be the most amazing mom who would never (fill in the blank) until I became one.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I had planned to go home after work just to change and then meet up with my husband and kids at their football practice. Once I hit I-10, those plans changed as my drive time was almost 2 hours to get home. So I just headed straight to the football field. Practice started at 6; it was already 6:10 and I still had another 10 minutes before I got there when I got a text from my husband asking me to bring bug spray. If you know anything about Houston, you know we have mosquitoes that could probably carry off one of my husband's football players if they really wanted to. We had rain coming in, and anyways the mosquitoes have been insane ever since all the flooding Harvey brought. So I run in to Kroger and grab a couple of bottles of bug spray and continue on to practice. I have never seen a group of coaches and kiddos so happy to see bug spray. <br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SllAPemRXMY/Wc5SllRvtZI/AAAAAAAAbK8/8if5lsZw2hwK_TnT7arWKKj2yEFKv9qCwCLcBGAs/s1600/mom%2Bof%2Bboys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="539" data-original-width="570" height="302" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SllAPemRXMY/Wc5SllRvtZI/AAAAAAAAbK8/8if5lsZw2hwK_TnT7arWKKj2yEFKv9qCwCLcBGAs/s320/mom%2Bof%2Bboys.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
After practice my family stops to eat some dinner, and it's this time I remember that my son has a couple of tests tomorrow for which he needs to study. Anyway, long story short, we go home, boys bathe, we study, I get the boys in bed. I'd love to go to bed then, also, but I have laundry that needs doing. Dogs need feeding. The list goes on. As I am switching over the laundry, I just wonder to myself if my boys will ever realize all that I do for them. They don't realize I stay up late cleaning up after them, washing their clothes and folding them, making their lunches and laying out their clothes, ironing if needed. They don't know I make sure every day that they have a clean pair of football pants and jersey. Or that I spray the heck out of their cleats because they smell so God awful that I thought I'd die. They don't know that I go through their bags at night to make sure I've signed everything I'm supposed to so they don't get in trouble with their teachers. I know they don't appreciate that I have everything ready for them, in a pile for each boy, so that we can just wake up, eat, and get going. <br />
<br />
And I got a little down about this. It's hard to work so hard long after everyone else is asleep, and not ever hear a, "Thank you." So as I dumped the clean clothes on the bed containing my sleeping husband and began to fold, I just wondered if I will ever be appreciated. Will my husband ever look at all the mundane, every day tasks I complete and think to himself, "She's amazing."? Will my kids ever think, "Man! I never realized how much mom did for me every day!" Will they think I was good at what I did and that I was a valuable member of our family?<br />
<br />
I believe so. It may not be for many years. Maybe not until they are having to juggle their full time job with family and all that comes with it. But I do believe that one day my boys will think of me and smile knowing that Mama did everything she could to give them a good life. <br />
<br />
And though my husband doesn't say it often, I know that what I do helps make his life better. And that gives me satisfaction.<br />
<br />
So sweet friends, in those moments late at night when you are doubting all that you are doing, or when you are feeling completely defeated, overlooked, unappreciated, don't forget that your Heavenly Father created you for a specific purpose. He sees all that you are doing and will not let it be for nothing. There is NOTHING greater that you can be invested your time and energy in to than your family. They will ALWAYS be worth it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-9927688878116602592017-09-28T12:03:00.000-07:002017-09-28T12:23:36.800-07:00The Physical SelfThroughout my life, I always struggled with my self image, as many girls do. I "matured" at a very young age and began getting curves before most girls my age. Many boys mistook this as me being fat; I was far from it, but I did have thigh and hips and all the womanly curves at a young age. I had been in cheerleading since I was 6, so I was athletic and had an athletic build. But being called fat at 9 years old was damaging, more so than I realized even then.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As a teen, I developed an interest in sports, specifically volleyball and tumbling, and I was in competitive cheer. Furthermore, I ran. I ran a lot. I worked hard on staying fit, but would still look at my tiny friends around me and my size 3/5 body envied their 00 body. I didn't even know you could BE a double zero! So even though I was only around 120 pounds, I would still look at people like Brittney Spears (yes I know) and wish I was shaped more like her.<br />
<br />
I tried out for my high school's cheer squad my freshman year and didn't make it. I was devastated and gave up on this dream. It was at this time that I made up my mind to graduate high school a year early. I would have to cram my classes in to the remaining 2 years I would have, and I was also working a part time job. Needless to say, I gained about 10-15 pounds by the time I graduated high school. I was still only 135 which wasn't bad for my 5'2" frame even though some scales said my BMI was high. <br />
<br />
College came and along with it, some of the absolutely most stressful times of my life. My weight climbed. My confidence plummeted. I had someone I cared about walk out on me, and I just knew it was because I was no longer attractive. This was hard for a 19 year old girl. I began seeking approval from people I had no business seeking it from. I lost who I was as everything I had ever known was changing, including myself. <br />
<br />
My last year in college I met my now husband. He was working full time to put himself through school. He was funny, outgoing, handsome, and spoke Spanish (I love this about him). He made me feel beautiful again for the first time in many years. He constantly told me how pretty I was and would leave me sweet little notes on my car at work. My confidence started to come back. He was slowly helping build me back up to the person I used to be. I also began going back to church which helped me to remember my true identity. I had forgotten that I was carefully made, that God looks at me and sees nothing but beauty. <br />
<br />
Fast forward to my first kid. My weight was out of control again, eating for "two". My thyroid was not functioning properly, and even when I began trying, I couldn't get the weight off. After my second child, I got serious with clean eating and working out. I lost 45 pounds and was beginning to feel good about myself again. But life struck again. I went through touch times personally and professionally and have now gained almost all of the weight back. I'm no longer comfortable in my own skin. I don't eat well or exercise regularly. My days consist of waking up at 5:30 to get the day started, and ending them past 10-11 most nights due to football practice for my boys. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xpOqe-mcO64/Wc1MFjegRDI/AAAAAAAAbKY/Ms3IcdJZ3lI2It1Rh7LCfA25J0hKf3TxACLcBGAs/s1600/jewish-temple-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="479" height="282" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xpOqe-mcO64/Wc1MFjegRDI/AAAAAAAAbKY/Ms3IcdJZ3lI2It1Rh7LCfA25J0hKf3TxACLcBGAs/s320/jewish-temple-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
I'm struggling right now to remember that I am beautiful on the inside, because what I see, and what everyone else sees on the outside isn't matching up. I'm feeling like I've let myself down by working so hard and then letting it all go. I worry that my husband is struggling to stay attracted to me. I know men are very visual beings and I feel like I'm letting him down in this area. I want him to be proud of me and think I'm beautiful. I want the compliments to come often from him without me having to fish for them. I'm self conscious. I'm uncomfortable when I sit down. I'm uncomfortable when I stand up. For goodness sake, I'm even uncomfortable in jeans now. I love dresses but definitely am not comfortable in those either...So I'm not in a good place right now...<br />
<br />
When I look at this issue from a biblical standpoint, The Bible refers to our body as the "temple" and tells us that we should glorify God in our body. So, is it a sin to be overweight? I think so, not necessarily because of the weight but because of the fact that gluttony is what tends to cause being over weight, at least in my case it is. Why is this a sin? I believe that it's because when I am overeating, it's because of something deeper going on inside. My outward self is a reflection of what is going on inside. When I have been in shape, it's because I'm usually in a good place mentally. When things are not going well in my life, I turn to the comfort of food. I didn't used to be this way and I'm not sure why I am now. Maybe it's because my support system is no longer what it was or because my trust in people is all but gone. Either way, it's not healthy, and I know that.<br />
<br />
So I'm making some changes. First, I'm going to change my mind frame to remember that regardless of what anyone feels about me, I am a beautiful person. Second, I'm going to get back into reading the Word more and confiding in God the way I need. Third, I'm going to begin taking the time to care about what I am putting in my body and making sure that I am eating to fulfill my hunger, not just to snack and definitely not to get full. Third, I am going to exercise. Yes to lose weight and tone up, but more so for the energy and to feel better.<br />
<br />
Will you pray for me in this journey? I feel like I'm running out of time to get this under control, and to be honest, my will power is low. To those going down this same road, I'm here for you! <br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv"><em>1 Corinthians 6:19-20</em></span><br />
<em><span class="text 1Cor-6-19" id="en-NIV-28487">Do you not know that your bodies are temples<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-28487A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28487A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own;<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-28487B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28487B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text 1Cor-6-20" id="en-NIV-28488">you were bought at a price.<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-28488C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28488C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup> Therefore honor God with your bodies.<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-28488D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28488D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup></span></em>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-30382961704391908982017-09-27T09:00:00.002-07:002017-09-27T09:00:54.102-07:00TimeI don't know why certain thoughts come to me the way they do, but they do, none the less. The other day, I was just thinking about the number of hours each day that I ACTUALLY get to spend with my kids. Up until this year, I have been the one who wakes them up, gets them dressed, takes them to school, brings them home from school, does homework with them, lugs them to baseball or football or whatever season it is. Now that I have taken on a more demanding job that requires more time away, I'm realizing how little quality time I get with them.<br />
<br />
I still wake them up, get them dressed, take them to school and sometimes bring one of them home from practice. But my husband is doing much more now because my work hours are typically later than his. I no longer pick them up from school or take them to practice. He does. That's taken away about an hour and a half that I used to have with them. <br />
<br />
When I calculated, I think I am getting about 2-3 hours a day with my kids. This doesn't count the hours they are at home, asleep.<br />
<br />
This kind of breaks my heart. It just made me realize that they are born, and before you know it, they're grown and gone. And you get so LITTLE time with them between...<br />
<br />
I don't regret my decision to be a working mom. I don't regret my decision to have my boy in competitive sports that take up over 2 hours a day of their schedules also. What I do regret are all the times I have had with my kids that I have not utilized to its fullest potential. I regret yelling at the kids when they are taking too long to hurry up and shower and get in bed. I regret telling them, "Not tonight, I'm too tired." I regret getting frustrated when they want me to come tuck them in and give hugs and kisses because that means I have to go BACK upstairs and I just want to go soak in the tub.<br />
<br />
I know every decision a mother makes can be criticized. I know there are people who think I'm wrong for chosing not to stay home; that's their prerogative. I know there are others who think stay at home moms are crazy for making that decision. I think every situation is different and quite frankly, I don't think it matters either way what you decide. What matters is that we have to remember that the time we are blessed with is very little. It's gone in the blink of an eye. I want to make it my mission to end the day with a smile on my face because it was simply a good day where I got to love on my boys a little while more.<br />
<br />
<em>Psalm 127:3</em><br />
<em>Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him.</em>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-79004180091461934782017-09-26T07:44:00.001-07:002017-09-26T07:48:45.550-07:00Break Our Hearts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GCzEAlscGj4/WcpmPC2En2I/AAAAAAAAbGA/yS2YOlkX2-4rJkuzmC38oqJvRf_Cxjp4QCEwYBhgL/s1600/Lillie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GCzEAlscGj4/WcpmPC2En2I/AAAAAAAAbGA/yS2YOlkX2-4rJkuzmC38oqJvRf_Cxjp4QCEwYBhgL/s320/Lillie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I watched a video of a big, beautiful, grey pit bull being rescued. My heart sank when I realized she had been dumped by her owners and just left there to fend for herself. You could tell she was very healthy, and the video showed her nuzzling in to the rescuers. She just wanted to be loved.<br />
I cried at this video. Yes, I cry at a lot of things, but this really got me. It cut me deep for a few reasons. <br />
<br />
First of all, I will never understand how people can be so heartless. This is just one example of what is wrong with people. It overflows into how people treat other people as well. In every decision I make, I try to consider the feelings of others. How will this affect my kids? My husband? My friend? How would I feel if I was the homeless person sitting outside the Valero and everyone just kept walking by me? I try to put myself in others' shoes, and I feel that this is what it takes for people to just care more. I fail at times. I make bad decisions that hurt those around me, but it kills me when I do. I hurt when I hurt those around me...You see, I think people have gotten so wrapped up in self that they have simply turned a blind eye to the fact that their words and their actions DO affect others. When you lie, you are damaging another person, even if you get a way with the lie. When you cheat, you sever any trust in a relationship. When you talk down to others, you break their spirit. When you walk out on your family, you cause abandonment issues, distrust, and heartbreak. When you leave a dog on the side of the road, you cause them to doubt humanity.<br />
<br />
Secondly, this dog, once she realized the rescuers were good people not trying to hurt her, she buried her head into the chest of one of the men. After being abandoned, she still just wanted to be loved. She just wanted a kind touch and some reassurance that everything would be okay. Friends, I believe deep down, that is what we all want. This is why it hurts so much when those you love break your trust, hurt your feelings, or abandon you. I also think this is why I love animals so much. They don't break that relationship once it's formed; as a matter of fact, many animals will fight to defend those they love. Their love is pure, honest, and unadulterated. <br />
<br />
So my prayer today is that our heart would be broken for those around us. That we would be able to treat others with the love and respect they deserve, and that we would learn to put our selves last. In essence, I pray we can learn to love one another the way a loyal pet loves its humans. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
I just cannot imagine what a beautiful place we would live in if our priority was figuring out how we can better love those around us. <br />
<br />
<br />
<em>John 13:34-35 </em><br />
<em>A New commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so also you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciplines, if you love one another.</em>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-84271285162413641012017-07-31T11:29:00.001-07:002017-07-31T11:29:08.016-07:00Life ChangesI'm not sure if it's because I grew up in the military or if it's just my personality, but change isn't something scary to me. I have always welcomed it, even longed for it at times. <br />
<br />
The latest major change came when I felt that I was being led to quit my job as a teacher. I was completing my 8th year as a teacher and was simply struggling to find joy in my career choice anymore. I could go in to detail, but that would be another blog in and of itself. To summarize, I was tired of politics involved, of all the demands beyond teaching, and of nasty parents. <br />
<br />
After much discussion, my husband and I decided this was what I should do. I had a friend who told me about a company needing teachers to work with homeschooled kids, just one day a week. I agreed to this, but had many concerns that I just couldn't shake. There wouldn't be any benefits, I'd basically be an independent contractor. Very little stability etc. <br />
<br />
Then I had the opportunity to completely leave the education industry and venture out into a world I have never known. I accepted a job as a project engineer for a commercial general contractor...the company is the same one with which my husband is a superintendent. <br />
<br />
My husband's dream has always been to have his own construction company. Maybe now I will be able to one day help him run the company effectively. <br />
<br />
The learning curve is astronomical as I know little about the industry. My motivation is sky high though. For the first time in many years, I am excited about my future and the opportunities I now have. <br />
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So, don't be afraid of change. Sometimes these changes can bring about more joy in your life than you ever imagined. Don't settle for a job you aren't happy with because there is one out there that is a perfect fit for you. And sometimes, it's in a place you'd never expect. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-12969560680141791242015-06-19T11:19:00.001-07:002015-06-19T11:19:12.288-07:00Broken HeartsBeing here in corpus this past week has really opened my eyes to the character of people. It has also made me realize how much the love of a mother means. My mom and I had many strained years as most moms do with their teenaged daughters. But as I have held my mom and just let her cry, memories flood back to her doing the same for me, even during the rockiest of years. My mom wasn't perfect, who is? But she has always been the one I ran to when my heart was breaking. Though my heart is breaking now, I'm not running to her, but to Christ for comfort. But I am so glad that I can be a physical source of love and support for her right now. It's the least I can do after all she's done for me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-23475304103937274682015-06-17T21:43:00.002-07:002015-06-17T21:43:14.039-07:00The StruggleAs a Christian woman, I try not to be a hypocrite, but I still am one sometimes. I talk about the need to forgive, but sometimes, I simply don't want to. When someone wrongs me deliberately, I want to hold on to my anger because honestly, somehow deep down the anger feels good. I know in my heart that it is silly because as I struggle to sleep, the one who wronged me is losing no sleep over my hurt. <br />
Christ is the ultimate example of how I should act, and believe me when I say I strive to live a life like His. But I am a mere human, and life is hard. People are cruel and selfish. Bad things happen that put my faith to the test. <br />
The good thing is I have an all knowing God who never promised that if I believe in Him, life will simply be grand. He knows my weakness and my struggles, and I believe He is walking with me hand-in-hand, helping to guide me all my days. There is a peace In Knowing that I can confess my sins to Him and ask Him to help make me more like His son, and He will. <br />
So, even when I want to curse someone's name and feel justified in doing so, I instead choose to die to myself and live in Him. I will cry out to Him and know that He, my Heavenly Father, will NEVER forsake me.<br />
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Father, my heart is heavy. The hurt is real and it is deep. But I want to live my life as a living sacrifice. Help me to shine Your light especially in the dark times of life. Thank you for being true to your word and for sending me and example of how life was meant to be lived. Help me live that way now and forever. In Your son's name I pray.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-34712511421140371862015-04-10T10:57:00.002-07:002017-09-26T07:48:49.507-07:00Things I Will Never UnderstandWhy it's so hard to Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-73163169953124525622015-04-07T04:14:00.001-07:002017-07-31T11:30:44.122-07:00A White BalloonAs she let go of the white balloon, she wept. The tears were no longer the tears of anguish; they were the tears of sweet release. She refused to hold on to the pain, the hurt, the guilt and shame. She was instead allowing herself the chance to celebrate, the rejoice, to forgive herself (and others), and to love. <br />
She kept her eye on that white balloon as it slowly drifted further and further away into the overcast night sky. She tried with all of her might not to lose sight of the balloon, knowing deep down that it would soon drift so far that she would no longer be able to see it. As it disappeared, she realized that just because it was no longer in her presence did not mean it was gone. It simply existed in a different place, possibly a different form. <br />
So she let it go completely as she closed her eyes and smiled. <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-18620090848488462542015-03-31T18:40:00.001-07:002015-03-31T18:40:54.225-07:00ThankfulTonight, I just want to close out this month of blogging by saying that I am thankful. I love my family. I love my job and the people I with whom I work. I am thankful for the opportunity to get off of work and come home, to my own house. I appreciate all of the friends in my life and I pray that I always remember to make sure they know this. <br />
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I am thankful for people who go out of their way to make sure you are okay, but I want to make sure I am that person to others.<br />
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I am appreciative for so much, but what I am realizing is that I need to make sure that I am the person others are thankful for, also. I don't want to be the one who takes and takes but never gives. I don't want my friendship to be a burden, but to be a mutual give and take with no expectations or repayment etc. I am the type of person that will always be here for those I love, but the problem is I'm not always good at recognizing when there is a need. <br />
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So, to all of my loved ones, if there is ever anything I can do for you, will you please never hesitate to ask?? I know that asking is uncomfortable, but I really am not good at figuring these things out. I promise I won't be burdened and actually look forward to the chance to "pay it forward".<br />
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Meanwhile, I am going to make it a point to be more in tune with people and their needs so that I can begin to meet needs without having to be asked.<br />
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I hope this makes sense...I have just had MANY people lately stepping up and pouring into me and my family and I feel so appreciative. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-3453009932918704262015-03-30T17:30:00.000-07:002017-07-31T11:32:23.065-07:00Another Failure?Maybe. I took a challenge to write in my blog every day for the month of March. I started a couple of days late. I missed a day here or there, and I missed this entire weekend. Some may call that a failure, but I wouldn't have blogged during this weekend for any prize.<br />
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My husband had a "Wipe Out Run" that he was participating in with some people from his company. It was being held in Baytown which is a little ways (maybe an hour) from our house in Katy. He asked me if I wanted to come watch him participate, to which I responded "Absolutely!". I don't know if he realized that this would be the perfect weekend to get away for a little bit, but it was the last weekend before my 4th graders took their first round of STAAR tests; today and tomorrow are day 1 and 2 of the Writing portion. I'm their Reading and Writing teacher, so these days are pretty stressful. Regardless of what is said, the scores matter. With my future at my campus dangling in the air like a wind chime, I feel the pressure more than I ever have. This isn't my first year to teach a tested subject/grade. I taught 7th and 8th grade Reading and Writing before, so I'm not stranger to state exams. However, there is a lot more riding on this test, for me, than ever before. It's my chance to see if I'm making a difference. It's my chance to prove to others that I am. It's my kids' chance to show how incredibly amazing they are.<br />
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So, this past Thursday I woke up with a sore throat. I stuck it out. Friday morning, I wake up with absolutely no voice. My writing liaison steps up and offers to teach my morning block in order to let my voice rest. She offers to ask one of the other 4th grade teachers to step in for my for my p.m. block, but I didn't want to impose. I assured her I would be able to make it through the afternoon if she was able to let me just assist in the a.m. And I did. Through the pain, I strained my voice for every last noise I could make. Mind you, I'm not teaching my own students. These are students from another 4th grade class, and I definitely did not want to let them down. I asked for their forgiveness right away for not having the energy that I usually do, but I promised I would give them all that I could if they would do the same. And they did. These kids have truly shown me that they know the meaning of "rise up".<br />
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After I got home on Friday, I packed up a few changed of clothes for myself and my two sons. We waited for my husband to get home, and then we were off to Kemah. My husband told me to book a room for the night at the Kemah Boardwalk Inn. I'm usually too worried about finances to spend extra money on a hotel for anything other than a trip to visit family, but my husband had been pretty stressed at work, and I had been too. So, I did. And I made sure to get a room with a view of the boardwalk. And you know what? I don't regret the extra money we spent. I don't regret spending a little extra to eat at one of the places that has been featured on Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives. I don't regret spending quite a bit for our little ones to ride a few rides on the boardwalk since they were too small for many. It was amazing. I slept like a baby, and when I woke up, I didn't have to make the bed, do laundry, dishes, or anything else that I usually do. We enjoyed dinner with friends, coffee on the boardwalk for breakfast on Saturday, and had a BLAST at the Wipe Out Run. My youngest son made a new friend with the son of one of my husband's friends. My oldest son conquered his fear of heights and rode a couple of rides that even made me a little squeamish. My husband ran a 5K, wearing a red tutu and participated in a very amusing obstacle course along the way, all surrounded by several of his coworkers who just wanted to have a little fun. I was so proud of the two ladies who ran with them for pushing through and finishing the race. It was so much fun to watch, and I hope to participate next time. The kids got to play in an area that had a bubble machine. It was the highlight for them, I think. <br />
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I came home and spent the day on Sunday getting the house in order. I finished ALMOST all of the laundry and cleaned up a bit. I did my grocery shopping. I went to bed and slept like a log. I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. I'm usually doing everything I can to keep myself awake on testing days, but today I was energized. <br />
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So thanks, hunny, for taking me a way for a little while. Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to spend some alone time with me and the boys. Thank you for all that you do, day in and day out, to make it to where we are able to do these kind of things every now and then. <br />
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I may have missed a few days of blogging, but it was so worth it. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-10104028981038309702015-03-26T18:52:00.000-07:002015-03-26T18:52:52.269-07:00Switching KidsWe are full swing into our "Writing Camp" for forth grade. It's our way of having a little fun with the kiddos while reviewing for their upcoming writing STAAR which is on Monday. We decided, as a team, that for the whole week, each person is teaching one lesson. There are 4 teachers, so there are 4 topics ranging from revising and editing, to combining sentences, to addressing expository prompts and addressing narrative prompts. So, I haven't taught my own two classes since Tuesday, and I have to say, I'm really enjoying it. It's nice to see different faces, hear different voices, and experience different abilities/personalities. <br />
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But what is really surprising me is how much I'm enjoying that my own students are getting to experience the other teachers. I am so blessed to work on a team that has 4 very different personalities teaching Reading, Writing, and Social Studies, and another who is there as our Writing Liaison, but who does SO MUCH MORE. However, each one of these women is so knowledgeable that I have no fears in allowing them to teach my own students. In fact, I'm kind of excited by it because maybe, just maybe, their way of teaching that particular topic makes more sense to someone who wasn't "getting it" with me.<br />
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I was just thinking about how different each one of our personalities is. I'm the loud, laid back one. We have a silly, motherly one who is so incredibly passionate about what she does and the kids she teaches. We have another who is a very new teacher, but is so sweet and silly, and the kids adore her. The last one is incredibly funny and a little bit...how do we say....hyper organized? She is so incredibly creative and artistic, and she is ALWAYS singing or dancing...or both. The writing liaison is so incredibly energetic and funny, but she also holds the kids to such high standards. She is often at work before I am, and I see her helping with so many different clubs and activities that I can't even count.<br />
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I believe the five of us, though incredibly different, have been very carefully knitted together. These women all have amazing zeal for what they do, and they have truly lit a fire for me and reminded me that I still have so much room to grow.<br />
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While I still don't know if my principal is going to ask me back next year, I know that I have been challenged to my very depths this year. I have worked longer and harder than I have in the past 5 years I have taught. I have found that while I absolutely adored my 8th graders, I have a serious love for these 4th graders...really for elementary all together. I have realized many areas for growth and truly feel that I am better now than I was in August. Each one of these ladies has poured in to me in one way or another, and many more that I haven't even mentioned. I am forever grateful, and while I don't know if I will be with all of them again next year, I pray every night that this will be the case because I can see such great things in store.<br />
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If not, I hope each one of them knows how much they are loved, valued, and appreciated. I am truly blessed.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-77351581245018204532015-03-25T19:26:00.002-07:002015-03-26T10:36:59.980-07:00My brother, John.John means "Jehovah has been gracious." <br />
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My brother was born 6 weeks early after my mother fell outside of her home. She landed on her stomach and her water broke. To put this into perspective, my mother was 16 when she had my first brother, Chris. She's now 18 and pregnant with her second. She's a military wife since my dad joined the Army. They are living in Fort Campbell, Kentucky, away from all of their family which was in Houston, Texas. The year was 1978. Technology was definitely not as it is now, which means medicinally we were not where we are now. <br />
My brother was taken to Vanderbilt because he was very sick and struggling to survive. The doctors were worried because, in their words, baby boys do not usually have the fight like baby girls. The boys will often just lie there and die. Well, John definitely did not. <br />
He was a decent weight, over 5 pounds, but he was long, which means he was skinny. His diapers swallowed him up. He had no fat on his body. But John didn't give up. He survived.<br />
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Fast forward a few years. They are now living in Germany. John is mischievous, not purposefully all the time, but he's got a curious brain. He was the kid who took things apart all the time just to figure out how they worked. Well, one day a lamp stops working, so my brother had to figure out what the problem was. He ended up sticking his finger in the light socket. I'm not sure if you know, but in Germany, the electricity has a much higher wattage than in the U.S. or at least it used to. My other brother yells for help, so my dad comes running to the rescue. <br />
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I cannot imagine what ran through my parents' minds, especially Dad's as he saw his little 4 (or maybe 5) year old son being electrocuted. He did what they say not to, and he grabbed my brother. The electricity then passed from my brother's body, into my dad's arm, and then blew out the back side of his elbow. The doctors said that saved my brother's life because it gave the electricity a way out instead of running continuously through his tiny body. <br />
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So, the hospital gets to know John by name because he has to have skin graphs done. He has to go in frequently to have the finger cleaned and re bandaged frequently. Mom says that was the worst part. Changing the bandages hurt him. <br />
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My brother still has scars on his pointer finger and his finger nail never grew in quite right. A constantly reminder, you could say, of that curious brain of his.<br />
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So, my brother, at 29 years old, ends up in the hospital with pains he describes like knives stabbing him in the chest. His cholesterol was dangerously high and he was having a heart attack. He ended up having to have triple bypass... At 29 years old. Everyone, even the nurses and doctors at the hospital, were blown away that he was having to have this done at such a young age. We weren't so surprised. My grandfather had his first heart attack at 27. He passed away at the age of 34 from another. This high cholesterol is hereditary, a problem that not even an internal medicine doctor has been able to rectify within my own mother. Hers was almost 500 at one point in her life. After weight loss surgery, the loss of 70 pounds, and numerous different concoctions of medications, it's still over 200, but it is in a much safer range than before. <br />
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Back to John. Even the surgery was difficult. They had trouble getting the veins out of his legs so it took much longer. Of course we didn't know why it was taking so long as we were waiting in the waiting room, so we were extremely nervous.<br />
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That was hard. I thought I would be ok, but when they wheeled him in on his bed to see us before they wheeled him into the OR, it hit me. He was in his gown all prepped and ready to go. I remember he had his right hand over his head like if he was shielding his eyes from the light. He was crying and trying to hide it. It's never easy to see a 6 foot 3 inch man cry, especially one who weighs over 250 pounds!! He's a giant teddy bear. That's when I lost it. I started crying and just buried my face into my aunt's chest, sobbing. That's my brother after all. This was a serious deal. They would be sawing open his chest for God's sake. It was almost too much to think about.<br />
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Afterward, it was so hard to see him intubated. When he was in ICU, I remember a needle sticking out of his neck; I believe this was for the anesthesia. I remember as he started to wake up, he really wanted the tube out of his throat, but they wouldn't take it out until he would stay away. So, I would remind him of that and he would SHOOT his eyes open as wide as he could and then motion with his hand a circle, as if saying, "OK, speed this up!" He hated that tube. <br />
I remember him being incredibly thirsty so I would run and get him lots of juice. The medicines often cause dry mouth. The absolute worse though was when he would have to cough, sneeze, or when he got the hiccups. It was incredibly painful for him, and he would just hug a pillow to his chest and then cry. <br />
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So, when 6 years later he begin to have serious pains again, you cannot imagine the worry. Luckily, his heart is fine. His cholesterol is high again, but he's working on it. He doesn't have health insurance, so it's difficult to get the medicine which is right at $150 a month for just the Crestor. But through it all, I have realized just how much a brother's love is worth. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Even though we go long stretches of time without seeing or talking to each other, (I live in Katy, he lives in Corpus Christi, I work days, he works nights) we know that we will always have each other's backs and that life would not be the same without each other.<br />
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Last example, I get a phone call at 6 a.m. from my mother. She is NOT a morning person, so I know something is wrong. John was in a motorcycle wreck on his way home from work. Someone cut him off, hit him, and fled. His huge body was lying in the middle of the only major freeway in Corpus Christi, as a friend who (thank God) happened to be following behind him attempted to pull him to the shoulder. She was a girl though and I've already told you how large my brother is. He was knocked unconscious because his head hit the road, so he was dead weight. She actually thought he was dead. He always wears his helmet, so that saved his life. But a stranger stopped on the middle of the freeway and helped pull him to the side. Minutes later, another motorist runs over his motorcycle, splitting it into two and sending fragments everywhere. That could have been my brother's body. <br />
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He is recovering well. He has a few broken ribs, a broken scapula (shoulder blade) and a punctured lung. Luckily his lung never collapsed, his scapula broke cleanly and began to heal without surgery. But boy, those ribs cause some serious pain during healing. <br />
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So, while John often says that if he didn't have bad luck, he'd have no luck at all, I say that his luck could have been much worse. You see, yes, that electrocution was traumatizing, but it could have caused more damage, or death.It was terrible that he had to have open heart surgery at 29, but he also could have instead had a massive heart attack that ended his life at 29, much like our grandfather.<br />
It was unfortunately that he married a woman with whom he just couldn't make it work, but I think it's better than never having known love at all.It was really heart breaking to have him finally get the motorcycle of his dreams, only to have it shattered. It was horrible to see him in the pain he was in. But it was SO good to get to see him at Christmas, to have him here on Earth to celebrate one more time. It was SO amazing that he didn't have to see an orthopedic surgeon. It was amazing that his punctured lung stayed inflated. It was amazing that a perfect stranger, whom we NEVER met even to this day, willing stopped on the middle of a major freeway in the middle of the night to help pull a man to the side and ultimately save his life.<br />
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Much of life is about perspective, and John has truly helped me to remember to cling to the positive instead of allowing the negative to swallow me whole.<br />
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To go along with my previous posts about names, I believe John has proven his. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-54807454534000174402015-03-24T19:42:00.001-07:002015-03-24T19:42:04.427-07:00GrowthHave you ever gone through a struggle, and as you were striving to overcome, you truly could not picture the light at the end of tunnel? Have you ever been so overwhelmed and felt so inadequate that you really wondered if it ever truly does get better?<div>
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If so, my word tonight are for you. Don't give up. I have been battling some very dark demons for many years, often in the privacy of my own heart, alone and completely frustrated. There have been times when I felt so completely alone that I truly believed nobody in this world understands me. I have tried to flesh it out and found that I simply do not have the ability to do so. But. I recently had a major break through. I have found peace after battling for almost 14 years alone. Except I really wasn't alone. My God was right there walking with me, waiting for me to turn to Him and BELIEVE that He's got this.</div>
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When I was struggling to find a teaching job that would work with son's schedule and would be closer to home, my brother started having heart trouble again. (This is a blog in itself so I will write about him tomorrow). I was incredibly worried about him, worried about my job, worried about everything as I always seem to be. My husband bought me a new charm for my charm bracelet that says, "Let go. Let God". I used to say this all the time but realized I was not doing it.</div>
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As I looked at my charm last night after having some quiet time with God, I couldn't help smiling. For the first time, I was truly letting go. </div>
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And can I tell you, it is such a freeing feeling. The trust I have that my Father has got this allows me to joy of just basking in his presence. I am forever grateful for my God who is constantly pursuing me and never giving up on me. I wish everyone knew this joy.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-36733756195553789562015-03-23T20:38:00.002-07:002015-03-23T20:42:49.427-07:00What's in a Name?I am really big on names and their meanings. I think it goes back to my Christian upbringing. Reading the Bible, I learned that people were very careful in the names they chose for their children because they would live up to their names in essence. Also, people would change their names according to specific special events/occurrences that would happen in their lives.<br />
My name is Jennifer and is said to mean "fair one". My middle name is LeAnn and means "light; beautiful woman". I never thought my names meant a great deal, but growing in my faith has led me to realize that my parents were inspired by the Heavenly Father to give me those names, and I understand why. You see, I have struggled with my weight since college. I have made bad decisions that have caused me to feel ugly. I have allowed myself to listen to the voice of the world that has told me I'm not beautiful, but that I'm worthless, not good enough etc. Knowing my Father the way I have come to in the last few years has made me realize that regardless of the mud and the muck, I am beautiful because I am made in HIS image. This means, when God looks at me, He sees His perfect son, Jesus. I know I am FAR from perfect, but how many times have you gazed upon your own children and just thought that life couldn't be any more beautiful? That's only a smidgen of what God sees when He looks at you, His beautiful creation.<br />
So, my name is special. And I love it more today than I think I ever have because regardless of what others think, Truth tells me that I was well thought out. I was planned. I had a purpose long before I was ever in my mother's womb. I was deliberate. I was not a mistake. I was wonderfully made. I am a child of God, the everlasting Father. The Great I Am. The One Who Was and IS and Is To Come. I am royalty. And I don't say this arrogantly. I say this completely humbled that my Father would love me so much as to number the hairs on my head. That He would love me enough to be there with open arms, waiting for me to accept His gift of grace and forgiveness. And today, I accept that. <br />
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I am changed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-2829814881382336612015-03-22T19:40:00.003-07:002015-03-22T19:40:42.377-07:00Boys NEED to be BoysMuch of my life is centered around my two boys, so much of my writing is, as well.<br />
Today, we went out to the soccer fields since Daddy had a soccer game. The boys love to go, especially my youngest, J, because he LOVES soccer also. Really, he loves ANY sport. <br />
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Today I began getting really serious about getting back to my healthy self, so while Daddy played, instead of sitting down and watching, like I usually do, I was up walking all over the empty fields and playing a little soccer with my boys.<br />
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However, the best part came when my boys decided they were going to be the devilish little men they are and they began playing in the water that has collected in the ditches from all the rain we have had lately. It was a beautifully sunny and warm day today, so I fought everything in me that was wanting to yell at them, "Stop playing in that water!! It's dirty. That's gross!!" etc etc. And let me tell you, I was fighting it. Literally, I was having conversations in my head about how I HAD to remember how much fun puddles of water used to be. <br />
"But, disease and all sorts of nastiness could be in that water. What if there's a scratch on one of their legs and something gets into it and we land ourselves in the ER??"<br />
"Seriously Jennifer?? You played outside, usually barefoot and in God knows what. You used to swim in the pond by your house. You are sill alive and well."<br />
I honestly thought about how they hear "No!" or "STOP!" so much in their lives. And I thought about how stifling parents can be. I decided I was going to shove all that fear down and let my boys be boys. <br />
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Can I tell you that watching them splash through that nasty water and hearing them giggle and laugh uncontrollably was so precious. More than anything, they were playing TOGETHER. They were united, as brothers, in their fun. There was no arguing, no pushing, no shoving, no hollering, no crying, no tattling, NO SIBLING RIVALRY for about 20 glorious minutes. <br />
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They ended up dirty and soaking wet. So my boys rode home in Dad's truck without any shorts...literally their T shirts and undies because I made them take their shorts, shoes, and socks off before getting in the truck. <br />
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I worried that their dad would be mad that they would have to get into his truck all nasty, but as he walked up at the end of the game, he just laughed. And my heart smiled for the first time in a long time.<br />
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Now, I challenge you to stop worrying so much and just let your boys be boys. There's something amazingly beautiful about witnessing that happening.<br />
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p.s. I also went to the gym afterward and was on the treadmill for an hour straight (not running but walking briskly and running intermittently). It felt AMAZING. I'm bound and determine to work my way back into being the runner I once was.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-52883457133935898732015-03-21T18:37:00.001-07:002015-03-21T18:37:05.766-07:00TruthThis seems to be a theme showing up over and over again in my life lately: the need for truth. <br />
One of my first blogs was about the secrets we bury inside. I'm learning that those secrets tear us apart, ever so slowly until we are able to come to grips with them and finally let go of the secrets we have held. After all, we are not the same people we were 5 years, 10 years, or however many it is we have been holding on to our secrets. <br />
Several discussions I've had lately are about the need we have to be able to speak truth, in love, to one another. How it is truly our responsibility to hold one another accountable, but I don't think we do because of fear of offending each other. Personally, I think we need to quit being so defensive all the time and listen to what others have to say about us. We might actually learn a little something about ourselves.<br />
Right now, I'm thinking about truth and how so many people run from it. I'm not sure why people lie to one another...I do know there are reasons such as fear or simply because we are doing something that deep down we are not proud of. My thing is, the truth will all come to light one day. I have realized in my adult life that lies tear relationships apart. Even when you think you're doing a good job of hiding, the fact is someone else is seeing through you whether you know it or not. You're damaging another person. It's not just you that is affected. It's not a victimless crime. But more than that, I'm realizing that some people really are just that wrapped up in themselves that they really don't care about the well being of others, and sadly, I think the number of people like this is only increasing. We are raising children to think that it's all about me. me. me. And this transfers into adults who simply cannot put others before themselves. That is a sad world to live in, a painful one, one that rips people apart. <br />
I'm challenging myself, and you if you're reading this, to let go of the dark little secret(s) that have been held inside for so long. I'm bringing those to light, acknowledging them, but also acknowledging that I am smarter that I used to be. I'm also challenging myself to stop lying, even about the little things. Complete honesty. I do not want to be the cause of hurt in someone else's life, and I'm tired of others hurting me by not being honest. Will you take that challenge too? This world needs more people who are not willing to hurt others with their lies.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-89100422524381071122015-03-20T18:49:00.001-07:002015-03-20T18:49:38.850-07:00FightsSo, my oldest some is in Kindergarten. He has now been in two fights within one week. <br />
The first one, definitely his fault and he definitely got in trouble for it. He was saving a seat at the lunch table for a friend when another boy attempted to sit in the seat. My son told him the seat was being saved and that he needed to go somewhere else. The other boy refused so a shoving match started and ended with the other boy punching my son several times. I hoped he'd learned his lesson.<br />
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Today, the nurse from school came and found me while I was attempting to scarf down my lunch (my son attends the school at which I teach). Apparently a different little boy was chasing my son on the playground today and shoved him a few times. My son kept trying to stay away but this boy wouldn't let up. So my son pushed him back. The boy then hit my son in the jaw and scratched his neck. He was bleeding a little but was heading back to class when I caught up with him. He was very upset about the entire incident, probably because of what had happened earlier in the week. He explained what happened, and later the assistant principal spoke to both boys. <br />
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I am a little torn. I know fighting is wrong and I've always said I would teach my kids it's never ok to hit. However, I could not tell my son that he shouldn't have hit back in this last case. I know the principal's job is to tell them that they should also leave the situation and let a teacher know, but I honestly think that if someone is instigating physical aggression, that you have every right to defend yourself. After all, you have that right as an adult, why not as a kid?<br />
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So, my lesson to my boys has changed from, "It's never ok to hit" to "It's never okay to START a fight". I'm confident this will teach my boys what I believe is right. I don't want to teach my boys to be punks who pick fights, but I refuse to teach my boys to become, for lack of a better word, ninnys who cannot stand up for themselves and allow others to push them around.<br />
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All of this to say, parenting is really hard. There is SO MUCH more involved in it than I ever imagined before becoming one, especially for those of us who take our jobs seriously and don't just sit on the sidelines. I have so much respect for my own parents and all of those who are actively trying to raise their children to be the best they possible can. I believe we will one day see the rewards of this hard work.<br />
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. Gal 6:9 </span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-30343321911370270392015-03-18T17:54:00.004-07:002015-03-18T17:54:45.096-07:00exhaustedI don't know if it's because this is the first week back from spring break or if life is just catching up with me, but I have been beyond tired yesterday and today. <div>
Yesterday I literally came home and just stayed on the couch until I had to get my boys ready for bed. They even fed themselves a dinner of poptarts while I napped...how terrible is that?? I did manage to grade papers before bes though.</div>
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Today, I've forced myself to get started on defensive driving (not for me, but my husband...yes I'm that awesome... Or that much of a sucker). </div>
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I am blogging since I missed two days in a row. And I'm About to read with my oldest son. </div>
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All of this to say that the world never stop a turning just because Mama's tired. :)</div>
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Time to hit up some "Horton Hears a Who".</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-7514188576277812772015-03-15T19:12:00.001-07:002015-03-15T19:15:40.315-07:00SundaysSundays. I love them. There is nothing like waking up and going to the House of God to worship and be filled. <br />
All I want to say today is that I am so thankful to live in a country where I can worship without fear. <br />
Tonight, I'm praying for my brothers and sisters around the world who are having to meet in secrecy. For those proclaiming the gospel knowing it may cost their lives. For those who are being persecuted. I pray for you. Admire you. Love you. Thank God for you.<br />
I pray that I, too, can speak with confidence of His love.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245014665577056972.post-21894756900596814572015-03-14T12:16:00.002-07:002015-03-14T12:16:29.404-07:00I Want to be a LadyI mean, I really want to be treated like a fragile, delicate flower. I want to be wooed. I want people to be careful of what they say because they don't want to offend my ears. I want doors to be held for me and all of that.<br />
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But then, my son farts and I laugh. Or, my three year old is hear yelling, "Mommy, I'm dooooonnnneeeee!!!!" which is my cue to come clean his bottom since he has not quite mastered that art. <br />
Or better yet, I go outside and begin to clean the land mines my two labs have left all over the yard. Sweat dripping, I begin to get swarmed by what I'm convincing myself were just gnat. God please tell me those were just gnats. <br />
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I have to clean splatter off toilets, both from #1s and #2. Much of my life deals with gas and bowels; I'm convinced that's normal with two smalls sons and a husband. I grew up with two older brothers, so I think I'm pretty conditioned to deal with these things. I don't have a weak stomach and to be honest, I'm not sure how any mother does. <br />
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Yes, I'd love to be a frilly "lady", but that's not my reality. Deep down, I'm glad it's not. I love to get muddy from working in the yard with my oldest son. I love to sweat. Farts are funny to me. Having booger problems doesn't gross me out; it more so makes me want to fix the problem. <br />
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This life isn't glamorous, but it's MY life. And it's beautiful. And I am beyond blessed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14077042240794808654noreply@blogger.com5