tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3503470856434740672024-03-12T19:24:41.687-04:00MyAwesomeOliveShoots"Your sons will be like olive shoots around your table."
Psalm 128:3bMyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.comBlogger312125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-63622727522025681802012-07-11T17:06:00.003-04:002012-07-11T17:06:33.357-04:00My new blog home, join meHere's my new blog home, hope you will click <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.com/">here</a> to read on!MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-24215940538587395692012-06-04T17:32:00.000-04:002012-06-04T18:05:20.851-04:00Sorting and savoring<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3m9Nc4-7C8s/T80a0z23JnI/AAAAAAAADYU/yte3oAjO-90/s1600/385718_3941554863818_1428346063_4294627_1335270415_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3m9Nc4-7C8s/T80a0z23JnI/AAAAAAAADYU/yte3oAjO-90/s320/385718_3941554863818_1428346063_4294627_1335270415_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Aaron taking a final bow during his <br />last drama performance. Yes, I cried.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It's that let-down feeling you have after everything is said and done. Your busy plans are complete, bags are emptied, things are sort of back in place and despite a moment of rest, you are still utterly exhausted and drained. Your company has left and life is back to normal - <i>that is until your husband has meniscus surgery this Wednesday. </i>And looking at you and your sassy pink-haired self, no one would know all that's been going on because you appear to be coping. But the fact is you are struggling and you (in this case me) wrestle with conflicting emotions. Clear as mud, huh? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Without getting too personal because blogs like that make me uncomfortable, this is how I'm feeling. In some strange way, it seems as if nothing happened because so much happened and it's just too hard to process. It's postpartum depression minus the baby. I scarce can take it all in.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NUv3rv7FO9A/T80aXpIRgtI/AAAAAAAADYM/uS_JLjKfGTE/s1600/2012+color+crest+smaller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NUv3rv7FO9A/T80aXpIRgtI/AAAAAAAADYM/uS_JLjKfGTE/s320/2012+color+crest+smaller.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>The Class Crest of 2012</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Two graduations in nine days in two different states is not for the faint of heart. Of all the stressful things I have done in my life, having those two events so close to each other is wayyyy high up there on the things I wouldn't choose to repeat. Both moments were so significant and emotional, there wasn't time to absorb one without quickly being distracted by the other. As a result, I'm stunned. What did we just do? Where did we just go and come back from <i>(and I don't even care about the questionable grammar)</i>? How much money did we spend? Why am I both full of emotion yet in empty despair? The denouement of Aaron's high school graduation and Nate's graduation from the United States Military Academy needed their own proper time. Kind of like my arthritic right knee, there wasn't and isn't any cushion.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QHSiO98RWlM/T80bUKI5caI/AAAAAAAADYc/nEI03vfVveQ/s1600/IMG_2205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QHSiO98RWlM/T80bUKI5caI/AAAAAAAADYc/nEI03vfVveQ/s320/IMG_2205.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Nate and I after the graduation parade. <br />I really loved that shining brass buckle. Very shiny. ;)</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M4VFg0CzSqY/T80eDnJD0aI/AAAAAAAADYw/yeinea9yctM/s1600/P5230095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M4VFg0CzSqY/T80eDnJD0aI/AAAAAAAADYw/yeinea9yctM/s320/P5230095.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>It sure seems like these cadets don't <br />realize what a huge day this is for me <br />and all the rest of the 2012 USMA parents!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">After a graduation celebration with some of Nate's friends and their families, the Hubs and I were driving on Bear Mountain Bridge. Our tummies were full of delicious food from Foodies and it was early evening. The United States Military Academy, an </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">outline of the stately concrete structures</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">were off in the distance. The view called out to my mama's heart. Amber lights sparkled from the windows, the Hudson River sat tranquil and tears streamed from my eyes. Tears are currently streaming from my eyes as I type this, thank you very much.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Cadets are still in these rooms, I thought to myself. They are busy doing things, I mused, but strangely, my boy is no longer there. How could that be??? His (and thusly my) 47 month journey had ended just hours before and everyone had seemingly moved on. Nate was ready. I guess I was not. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6tYGQCHh2oU/T80frYUChgI/AAAAAAAADZE/k85Amf40HL0/s1600/IMG_5023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6tYGQCHh2oU/T80frYUChgI/AAAAAAAADZE/k85Amf40HL0/s320/IMG_5023.JPG" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>The Hubs and I during Ring Weekend <br />standing in front of Nate's barracks.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">As the Hubs kept his eyes on the road, I couldn't help but reach out and grab that little West Point with my fingers. Between my thumb and my pointer finger, I held West Point there as long as I could before we passed it by. I can never grasp what this place has meant to my OS or to me. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-94WnsI4xj4o/T80gM292pjI/AAAAAAAADZM/xz_mj7fTyAI/s1600/IMG_6778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-94WnsI4xj4o/T80gM292pjI/AAAAAAAADZM/xz_mj7fTyAI/s640/IMG_6778.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Majestic - Washington Hall </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I can find reasons to return to West Point but none will be for my boy as a plebe, yuk, cow or firstie. The pangs of this reality sting and confuse. He loved that place. He hated it. It was so far away. I loved coming there. What tumult of spirit! No sooner had Nate graduated from USMA, then he bolted from Michie Stadium along with nearly 1000 other newly commissioned officers and finished turning in all their stuff. There wasn't any sentiment in the departure and it reminded me of the 90 second goodbye we had been issued on <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2008/06/r-day-60-seconds.html">R-Day</a>, that never to be forgotten day. No built-in cushion there that's for sure. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7NmRfyRjJv0/T80e09DhYYI/AAAAAAAADY8/H6-3dkcioC0/s1600/P5260278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7NmRfyRjJv0/T80e09DhYYI/AAAAAAAADY8/H6-3dkcioC0/s640/P5260278.JPG" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>My boy, that uniform, what memories</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Pride, humility, loss, gain, and so much more jumble inside. I expect to be working through these experiences and emotions for quite some time because that's what a mama does, right? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'd love to hear from you if you can relate. West Point mom or not, you might empathize. Thanks for listening...</span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-73647720484337249982012-05-28T15:16:00.001-04:002012-05-28T15:16:52.176-04:00West Point graduation touchstone moments<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This is not a glamour shot. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bbl5heA3K7M/T8O4jPDGY0I/AAAAAAAADXk/F249xb1DM6M/s1600/551017_10151194488803018_624118017_13365945_1966205623_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bbl5heA3K7M/T8O4jPDGY0I/AAAAAAAADXk/F249xb1DM6M/s640/551017_10151194488803018_624118017_13365945_1966205623_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Pictured here are the freckle face, orange hair ginger, the Hubs, <br />the Officer just after we pinned the bars on his uniform, <br />the weepy proud mama, the grandpa and the ministry-bound middle brother.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We are an imperfect bunch.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But we love each other.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And when not focusing on our own personal comforts which is often difficult for most people including myself and those in my clan.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We reach deep down inside and demonstrate support and care.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And this is what my oldest OS deserved on HIS day.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Not telling Nate how exhausted and hot we were (because I do not believe there are sufficient words and he was surely <u>more</u> tired and sweaty!)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But rather standing next to our Soldier physically, emotionally and spiritually.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As he graduated from the United States Military Academy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It was a privilege and an honor.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And if someone would have handed me a mirror,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And lipstick,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And some haircare products,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Or offered me a shower to freshen up,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">You know, because an important picture was going to be taken,</span><br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">I would have said no</span></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And continued to hold my son's hand.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cp0YdSi7LYo/T8PCXavNnoI/AAAAAAAADX4/Hzr-ASObPhU/s1600/P5260320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cp0YdSi7LYo/T8PCXavNnoI/AAAAAAAADX4/Hzr-ASObPhU/s640/P5260320.JPG" style="border: 4px solid #668099;" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>It was only after looking at this picture the following day <br />that I realized that we were all touching. I love that. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Unconcerned about appearance,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Shedding tears of pride. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">No other place could I have been</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Then next to Nate and surrounded by those who love him most. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Making memories for a lifetime,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This perspiring, imperfect collection of people</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Honored a man of integrity</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Whom the Lord gave me for such a time as this</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And I am richly, profoundly blessed to call him (and all those in this picture) my own. </span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-22403618989069755752012-05-19T19:46:00.000-04:002012-05-19T19:46:16.733-04:00Senior table<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SOjoVHyTHkg/T7gwbS5daEI/AAAAAAAADXY/cv8tNGDg1k0/s1600/photo+copy+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SOjoVHyTHkg/T7gwbS5daEI/AAAAAAAADXY/cv8tNGDg1k0/s640/photo+copy+3.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-58385464962112652442012-05-19T19:44:00.000-04:002012-05-19T23:48:24.781-04:00Creating unconditional love on cardboard<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xO4uzZ_OzwI/T7gln5bS8eI/AAAAAAAADWs/XU5nw3Ye1QU/s1600/photo+copy+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xO4uzZ_OzwI/T7gln5bS8eI/AAAAAAAADWs/XU5nw3Ye1QU/s320/photo+copy+4.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Making Aaron's senior table was truly an act of love. </span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Wednesday night, on the eve of high school graduation, moms and dads filled the gymnasium for a shining gesture. With Herculean effort, we decorated senior tables for our offspring. I know because I was among those parents attempting, in some im</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">possible way to contain love on a 30"x30" plot of space. Talk about pressure!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">For weeks I had been staging Aaron's table at home. With two children graduating nine days apart in two different states, I had to start early to make sure it was good. In 2008, Nate had a senior table and Aaron deserved for me to put in the same painstaking effort. In my practice sessions, sometimes I'd tape</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> a picture in one place on the cardboard and then move it elsewhere. A few of my table prototypes were created actually in Aaron's room so he would see them when he came home from school. I'd anticipate the moment when Aaron would enter. Yes, I said to myself, hopefully he will not collapse upon seeing its beauty. Truly, I speculated, he will notice how I angled the ukelele JUST so, put the candle HERE, the coffee cup THERE and the tiny bell from Ukraine on THIS spot.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i9a707Cx_C0/T7gmqxssNBI/AAAAAAAADW8/mLa1nkuGEN0/s1600/Revised+1223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i9a707Cx_C0/T7gmqxssNBI/AAAAAAAADW8/mLa1nkuGEN0/s320/Revised+1223.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Middle OS senior pic taken by Aunt Lorri</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And when Aaron would walk into his room, my ear would keen for the slightest gasp of wonder. If a second passed without a response, I couldn't stand it any longer. "Aaron, what do you think?" I'd beckon so desperate for his approval. Without exception Aaron showed his gratefulness. Whew.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Other times, you know, just in case a friend stopped by and you never know when that just might happen, I would do the whole set-up in the dining room and dare I admit, I'd walk down the stairs several times just to get a glimpse afresh. As the mama of three OS, for me with no other girl in my household, it was the equivalent of seeing a daughter in a wedding gown or a prom dress. Don't laugh. I felt joy.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The Hubs found other versions of the table in his office or in the hallway. Some family members were even blessed with text messages and pictures from me marking a new table development concept. A few were kind enough to acknowledge receipt of those pictures. Oh thank you if you indulged me!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYPcvg9Qiu0/T7gkkzYE_BI/AAAAAAAADWc/8q91ZOy5svQ/s1600/photo+copy+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYPcvg9Qiu0/T7gkkzYE_BI/AAAAAAAADWc/8q91ZOy5svQ/s320/photo+copy+5.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #FF99CC;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>I had been crying throughout the day <br />but vanity aside, I had to get a picture of me by Aaron's table. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I sewed a swatch of remnant material from his <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2012/02/26-50-things-im-thankful-for.html">books pants</a> fabric. Aaron approved. Then I stitched a coordinating rectangle of some extra fabric a friend had given me. Aaron liked the manly colors. He assisted my efforts by writing in gold a <a href="http://www.puritansermons.com/poetry/cowper4.htm">poem</a> from his favorite author William Cowper and I trimmed the sides of the cardboard with pages from an old family Bible. It wasn't perfect but the time had come for the official unveiling. Insecure feelings never replaced the warm and wonderful sentiment I felt inside.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uZjX2WMV-gY/T7glIDXJG1I/AAAAAAAADWk/X7pOvt7kFO8/s1600/photo+copy+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uZjX2WMV-gY/T7glIDXJG1I/AAAAAAAADWk/X7pOvt7kFO8/s320/photo+copy+6.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A sample of one of the many other tables on display.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But I bet I wasn't the only one who spent copious amounts of time on the child's senior table project; based on what I saw, our collective souls were poured onto those hallowed folding tables. We did not create altars for our children, I guess we just wanted our son or daughter and all who passed by to smile and either say, "Wow, I am loved" or "Awesome, someone thinks very highly of that kid."</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VLTlHvtNZK0/T7gnjdPlXcI/AAAAAAAADXE/q8cW_FFjC8I/s1600/photo+copy+8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VLTlHvtNZK0/T7gnjdPlXcI/AAAAAAAADXE/q8cW_FFjC8I/s320/photo+copy+8.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Another mom breathing <br />words of kindness upon my oliveshoot.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">If you think this post is stupid, then we probably couldn't be friends. If you've read this far, you understand. Let's have lunch. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thursday arrived and tears flowed as we all beamed. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I gazed and cried stopping by many of Aaron's friend's tables. I noted with appreciation that none of these tables felt ostentatious as if they were trying to steal attention from someone else. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-983itgyn2pw/T7gl-4vLG2I/AAAAAAAADW0/Cs8ZH0d1dpo/s1600/photo+copy+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-983itgyn2pw/T7gl-4vLG2I/AAAAAAAADW0/Cs8ZH0d1dpo/s320/photo+copy+7.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Oh how I adored seeing a classmate write <br />encouraging words to my boy, such loving <br />messages filled these pages.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The body of Christ enveloped the mood. With our individual 7 1/2 square feet carefully crafted, the seniors marked the passage of time. I paused with gratitude over the families represented and prayed for their children's future. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sln4ulGtfCQ/T7gn5UvWgZI/AAAAAAAADXM/BmQtycJaItE/s1600/photo+copy+9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sln4ulGtfCQ/T7gn5UvWgZI/AAAAAAAADXM/BmQtycJaItE/s320/photo+copy+9.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After graduation, Aaron spent a <br />long time reading the messages. <br />What a thankful moment for all of us. </span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Have you ever done something like for a loved one? What special things would hallmark your "table"? I'd so enjoy hearing about it. May you all have opportunity for such a celebration of life. </span><br />
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</div>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-65719763611573023392012-05-15T22:15:00.000-04:002012-05-15T22:17:28.062-04:00A boy who loved Barney<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When Nate was a wee lad, he loved Barney and guns. That is an odd combination if you ask me. Barney is creepy and I am not a gun person. Things that explode or shoot scare me more than a huge purple dinosaurs. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7c9xvpAPke4/T7L6sQsVLWI/AAAAAAAADV4/L5olUp11NpQ/s1600/precious+Nate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7c9xvpAPke4/T7L6sQsVLWI/AAAAAAAADV4/L5olUp11NpQ/s320/precious+Nate.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>I love the skinned knee, he was so proud of himself <br />for being on top of a mountain. Holding a plastic airplane <br />feeling like a tough guy, Nate is truly a gift from God. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As a young mom, I remember saying, "Nate, you can't have a gun and I don't want you playing guns or anything like that." I tried desperately to cull his firearm fascination but to no avail. One day, Nate, being a obedient and resourceful boy, found a way to satisfy both his mama's request and his personal interest. Astonished, I watched him take a bite off the corner of his peanut butter sandwich (with NO jelly!) and turn the sandwich to the side. He then placed his finger in the sandwich trigger and pulled the "switch" directly in the air. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Should I then be surprised that this child would decide to become a cadet at the United States Military Academy? What's a mama to do?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W6AXx3qZINM/T7L7PSJHFNI/AAAAAAAADWA/dtmKfVpEHxw/s1600/Nate+and+the+dollhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W6AXx3qZINM/T7L7PSJHFNI/AAAAAAAADWA/dtmKfVpEHxw/s320/Nate+and+the+dollhouse.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="316" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Nate is a man's man there's no denying it!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'm learning albeit sometimes begrudgingly to mean what I say when I tell my boys that I want them to live THEIR lives. Even if it means they do things that are dangerous or far away, they are entitled to go where they want to go, do what they feel called to do as long as it's pleasing to the Lord. As my OSs get older, this proves challenging because their decisions are significant. My middle OS feels called to the ministry, he's going to school far away to Chicago; the orange hair freckle face OS is only 15 and not sure of his destiny. Alas the oldest is a Soldier and I'm discovering truly putting personal interests aside is much harder. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZPXVEa_vdC4/T7L7kSc3U4I/AAAAAAAADWI/HsCw46Hl_nM/s1600/Nate.RDay+March.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZPXVEa_vdC4/T7L7kSc3U4I/AAAAAAAADWI/HsCw46Hl_nM/s1600/Nate.RDay+March.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Watching my son march by me on R-Day <br />was far more intense than I could <br />have anticipated and trust me, <br />I anticipated it being very difficult. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Next Saturday, the journey to and through West Point will be complete. (Insert deep breath) My oldest OS will graduate from USMA. The sweet spot I have enjoyed, being part of the Long Grey Line but not having to think about him actually going in harm's way will be over. The next journey as a military mom starts. Things feel surreal and overwhelming. With that in mind, it's no surprise that when the Hubs said he wanted to buy a shotgun for our OS as a graduation gift, I did not react favorably. Frankly, it's not anywhere near the top of my list of things to get my kid. But the boy who fashioned a gun out of a sandwich would love this and I need to measure my response. Chalk it up to another new moment as the mama of a Soldier.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQe09HUjlSs/T7L9njLBH-I/AAAAAAAADWQ/ubybXLfiSjM/s1600/418183_10150592214850059_720630058_9471052_513076390_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQe09HUjlSs/T7L9njLBH-I/AAAAAAAADWQ/ubybXLfiSjM/s320/418183_10150592214850059_720630058_9471052_513076390_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>My boy and his bonita in El Salvador. Nate is becoming his own man </i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>and I rejoice over him being a person of honor, faith and integrity.</i></span> </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A few weeks ago the Hubs got an email from our cadet informing him of Nate's potential deployment location. When he told me, I cried. This is where my faith in Jesus must prevail. I have prayed over, for and with my child. I do not come naturally to being the mama of a Soldier but this day has been in the works for nearly two decades. I am as prepared as I can be and should have seen this coming Let's do this. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #5c1101; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Matthew 6:34</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><i>“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."</i></span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-10839642314116151422012-05-15T13:57:00.003-04:002012-05-15T14:11:35.630-04:00To have an inchworm as a friend...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Reading is a most cherished relaxing activity. While my brain can't retain all the amazing things I learn when reading, my black leather bound book (courtesy of my writer friend Kristi, click <a href="http://kristibutler.blogspot.com/">here</a> for her blog) serves as fertile ground for me to deposit interesting words and quotations from books I've read, sermons I've heard, etc.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Before I met Inchy, these words from Charles Kingsley in Nancy Pearcey's book <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Saving-Leonardo-Secular-Assault-Meaning/dp/1433669277">Saving Leonardo</a></i> caught my attention. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"The simplest forms of nature are strangely animated </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">by the sense of Divine presence, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">the trees and flowers seem all, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">in a sort, children of God."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Then my mom had surgery and complications resulting in my encounter with Inchy. Maybe I read Kingsley's quote because Inchy and I would soon be friends. Yes, I realize that Inchy is/was an insect and human beings are God's only children though He is the Creator of all things.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But still, Inchy was a good distraction. Laughing is my favorite and Inchy provided some needed jocularity. One afternoon, while on the way to my mom's hospital room, I stopped to greet my chenille buddy. Just in case inchworms have ears, you know I wanted to offer a word of encouragement. My little looper friend, wherever you were, I hope you were having a good day! Don't listen to Hubs in the background, he was just jealous of our unusual friendship!</span><br />
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</div>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-46315593355926764262012-05-14T14:25:00.000-04:002012-05-14T14:25:43.693-04:00Symbol of resilience<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Two graduations + nine days apart + two different states does not equal a lot of time to write. Even now, though loaded with plenty of blog worthy material, I approach the keyboard with hesitation. I don't know how some people can be so prolific, those fleeting moments I find in between required tasks leave me woefully exhausted.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But the women in my writers' group are meeting this Wednesday and so I'm updating my blog. If you have read this far, thanks for at least checking in.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AhTENdPlPSU/T7Enr3JfXII/AAAAAAAADVs/BOfODfIyGvM/s1600/525180_10150652354664632_640784631_9396009_419444505_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AhTENdPlPSU/T7Enr3JfXII/AAAAAAAADVs/BOfODfIyGvM/s320/525180_10150652354664632_640784631_9396009_419444505_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Easter pic of my mom and some of her grand babies</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My mom is home from the hospital and skilled nursing facility. Seeing her recently alert and excited at my middle OS's final drama performance blessed us all. Progress is being made, thank you Jesus.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Strange that a tiny thing I observed a month ago, a small speck of a creature should continue to have a prominent place in my mind. Let me explain...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A month ago I pushed a wheelchair down the hospital hallway. My thought at the time was the only person in need of inspiration was the woman occupying the chair, certainly not me. It had been nearly 10 days since my mom had entered the hospital for routine surgery and she was still there. The <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2012/04/bunny-in-window.html">ceramic bunny</a> had relocated to a destination unknown and now I wanted to get sprung. I was sick of this place. We needed to leave premises without delay!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As I lugged the wheelchair into the outdoor patio area, I spotted an inch worm slinking by the path. Lurching and undulating its body, there it went measure by measure in front of the two of us. Some people feel lucky finding a penny on the curb, for me finding this little looper was a priceless sign from God (and I'm not even joking).</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wjhp5BPcvL8/T7EmCqI9YKI/AAAAAAAADVc/SYkBhvb1UrI/s1600/552131_10150900697638018_624118017_12757708_2145933171_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wjhp5BPcvL8/T7EmCqI9YKI/AAAAAAAADVc/SYkBhvb1UrI/s320/552131_10150900697638018_624118017_12757708_2145933171_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>My mom and Inchworm</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Without my mother's approval, I placed the inchworm on my mother's hospital blanket. Had she the will to protest, she would have shooed the little guy off her. My digital camera captured the moments when Inchy (the name I have hereby bestowed upon him) and my mom met. It wasn't love at first sight.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I urged Mom to take heed of Inchy's perseverance and stamina. Look at him go, nary a twig or hospital blanket got in his way. Inchy's small hairless hind prolegs drew his posterior body toward the front. And sure enough, ever vigilant Inchy pressed on and followed the motion by extending his posterior legs forward. He didn't go too far and wasn't swift but by golly, Inchy didn't give up. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Lo his tiny frame,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Inchy</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">never seemed intimidated by his surroundings or his diminutive size. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rEHJwJL31ms/T7EmZtGofaI/AAAAAAAADVk/duVIeC7LL0I/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rEHJwJL31ms/T7EmZtGofaI/AAAAAAAADVk/duVIeC7LL0I/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One of Inchy's cousins</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Henceforth, each time I went to the hospital I headed to the outdoor patio area in search of my little buddy. Never was I concerned with passersby or whether someone figured I was a patient in the mental health ward. I just needed to see Inchy, plain and simple. The Hubs was with me on more than one occasion and yes, he thought I was nuts. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">You also may think of Inchy as a mere moth larvae but he metamorphosed my thinking and ridiculous joy swelled my heart (and I'm not even joking). </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Inchy inspired me to write, to hope, to trek on life's distances regardless of the time it took or the impossibility of the journey. And with his lime green body, I appreciated the confidence with which he carried his quirky color. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Although my mother didn't and still doesn't seem to get Inchy's significance, my perspective changed that springtime day.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> So here's what I'm wondering...h</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">ave you ever experienced something like this when you see or feel a nudge from God in a most unexpected form? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Without saying a word, Inchy reminded me to keep moving in a positive direction. </span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-44306799225508716062012-04-04T11:29:00.000-04:002012-04-04T12:27:38.578-04:00The bunny in the window<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-knHMFuPIqXg/T3xlJccfyoI/AAAAAAAADU0/xBrNFiAzZuQ/s1600/photo+copy+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-knHMFuPIqXg/T3xlJccfyoI/AAAAAAAADU0/xBrNFiAzZuQ/s320/photo+copy+2.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>The most adorable thing I've ever seen <br />in a hospital gift shop</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The ceramic bunny with powder blue overalls, paws tucked in the pockets, longingly looked at me each day from the glass display shelf. No words were needed. We were just two innocent figures in an odd place sharing a kindred desire to escape the confines of the hospital. Neither of us knew when and if that would happen. Maybe he was jealous of me as he stood motionless among the other ceramic rabbits, after all I was in the lobby area and my feet moved swiftly. To be fair though, I was envious of him also. He was in a gift shop, he made people smile and he was among other pretty ceramic friends. I felt uglier and older every time I walked into the hospital. Only once did I venture into the gift shop to lift him up to see if I had the cash to get him sprung. He was $38 and I gently set him back down to return to his post. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-biNGQ_bR57Q/T3xlV0zGWVI/AAAAAAAADU8/YgIAi5JbnBc/s1600/photo+copy+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-biNGQ_bR57Q/T3xlV0zGWVI/AAAAAAAADU8/YgIAi5JbnBc/s320/photo+copy+5.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Last pic of the bunny and me</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Each day for ten days prior to seeing my mom, I'd go and check on the ceramic bunny with the powder blue overalls. And each time, an internal battle would loom within as I pondered taking him home with me. Did I really want an emblem of my mom's turmoil? What if my mom died here? And even if she didn't, could I one day gaze at the ceramic bunny dwelling in my home and conjure up good sentiments about the whole experience? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Alas, the decision was taken from me. Here's what happened. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3sfppcwL6yc/T3xmYiaqFkI/AAAAAAAADVM/RR1lTQCO-S0/s1600/photo+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3sfppcwL6yc/T3xmYiaqFkI/AAAAAAAADVM/RR1lTQCO-S0/s320/photo+copy.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Oh dear ceramic bunny, what were you thinking?</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I had briefly visited the ceramic bunny and gone to my mom's room. She was a disheveled mess and it was as if she had completely given up. Honestly it ticked me off and left to my own druthers, I would have stormed out of the room leaving her to feel sorry for herself.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Yet I couldn't do it. Call it pride that I didn't want people to think I was a bad daughter. Call it love because I truly love the woman. Call it Jesus because He alone gave me strength. But I stayed and I got a stupid wheelchair and pushed my mom down the hallway. I told her we were going to go to the courtyard and I was going to introduce her to my friend at the gift shop. She was nonplussed. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">While on the way, I reminded my mom to lift her head up, open her eyes and speak in full sentences. She needed to engage the world in order to get better. My words were met with limited compliance...I pushed her eagerly to the lobby right up to the glass window.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Mom, I want to show you the ceramic bunny I've been visiting every day," my voice and pace quickened in excitement as we pulled up to the display.</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U6zFDNP3wc0/T3xlhWSDuVI/AAAAAAAADVE/125s3GnWS6k/s1600/photo+copy+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U6zFDNP3wc0/T3xlhWSDuVI/AAAAAAAADVE/125s3GnWS6k/s320/photo+copy+4.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>And this is what I saw less than an hour later - gasp</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And you'll never believe what I saw...</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Nothing - and the other ceramic bunnies were mum about my special friend's sudden disappearance. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The ceramic bunny with powder blue overalls was gone. Someone had taken him. How could that be? I had just seen him less than an hour ago! Why did someone steal my joy? Why was he getting to go home and I was still stuck here? Did the ladies in the gift shop think I was such a creeper for taking so many pictures of him that they withdrew that bunny from the stock? Where did he go? Did someone get him for me? Numb would best describe my feelings and I'm being totally honest even if it sounds weird. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I am home now and the visits to the hospital have stopped. My mom left the hospital a few days later to continue her recovery. I tried attaching myself to another ceramic bunny in the gift shop, one that was more in my price range but it just didn't feel right and that's ok. I did, however, find another little friend in the hospital which I will soon share with you but there is something I need to learn from this experience. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nwZc7i-z6wQ/T3xmrEGFcTI/AAAAAAAADVU/gIOIH7VME10/s1600/photo+copy+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nwZc7i-z6wQ/T3xmrEGFcTI/AAAAAAAADVU/gIOIH7VME10/s320/photo+copy+3.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This other bunny was cute but it wasn't a love connection, <br />I couldn't replace my old friend that easily</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Albeit wistfully, I now see that the ceramic bunny in powder blue overalls as a welcome, temporary diversion to strife. He provided me a creative, silly outlet to express myself each day. We weren't meant to be together but only for a short season of life. The bunny, my mom and I all needed to go to our respective homes and leave this place behind. My mom is getting better and healing in a variety of ways. Thanks for letting me share, dear friends. I always enjoy your thoughts and comments...</span><br />
<br />MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-84033592812131464732012-03-30T15:38:00.003-04:002012-04-04T11:33:59.210-04:00Sister/friend, Army/Navy, trials/blessings<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hcfzaq-hJFo/T3YFYkJH8zI/AAAAAAAADUU/eEG7QWM7Sfo/s1600/photo+copy+10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hcfzaq-hJFo/T3YFYkJH8zI/AAAAAAAADUU/eEG7QWM7Sfo/s320/photo+copy+10.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My friend Kim and I hanging out in the hospital lobby. <br />I have pink highlights and though<br />Kim does not have olive green highlights in her hair, </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">she's still a really good person <br />as you will soon discover. </span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Last year Kim went in the hospital for routine surgery. As part of our Bible Study, she lifted the situation up as a prayer concern and we promised to pray for her. No big deal, I thought to myself. I've had a hysterectomy. Not pleasant but she'll be fine. I'll make her a meal, be a nice friend and we'll see her back in our group in no time at all.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">But that's not what happened. The routine surgery became life-threatening as deadly pockets of infection raged in her abdomen. Soon she was too sick to return text messages and too weak to speak. Her husband took over communication and his emails were long as he detailed the troubles and asked for more prayers. Three additional surgeries later, Kim still was in the hospital gravely ill. Another woman in our Bible Study, a pharmacist, told us later that Kim was near death. A vital, young wife and mother of four daughters never expected these complications. Our group was jarred and we cried out to the Lord to save our dear friend and sister in Christ. More meals, more cards, visits to the hospital, we all wondered why this was happening. Kim spent 11 days in the hospital and it took months for her to remain her strength. As she lay in the hospital bed, baseball cap on her head because she was too weak to even wash her hair, Kim had time to talk to God about the purpose for her suffering. She promised to use her illness to minister to others and to not waste this trial...</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">13 months later - it was past one in the morning when the Hubs and I finally returned home from the hospital. My mom was in the throws of withdrawal from pain meds and at times it was like seeing a demon coming out of her body. Nothing could console her and we were at our wits' end as we left the hospital and to get some sleep.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">While in the shower, in the wee hours of the mourning, I felt the Lord speak to me and remind me about Kim. "Ask her to come to the hospital," that's what God said to me...while in the shower...Later that day I called and without hesitation Kim heartily agreed. On Saturday, a little over a year after her own ordeal, my friend walked back into the same hospital, this time not as a patient but as a woman victorious. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Nt2k-utIeg/T3YF1c5dcVI/AAAAAAAADUc/qj1H8TVrlWs/s1600/photo+copy+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Nt2k-utIeg/T3YF1c5dcVI/AAAAAAAADUc/qj1H8TVrlWs/s320/photo+copy+7.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>The devotional Kim gave to my mom.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">She brought my mom a beautiful devotional and recounted her days at the hospital. After Mom's visit, as I escorted Kim back to the hospital entrance, she remembered being wheeled down that hospital corridor. She recalled the blossoms on the trees that she rolled by for another CT scan...reflections of how in the midst of despair, she yearned for another day of life, unsure of when and if she would ever leave the hospital or see another spring. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dBCnBuUG69I/T3YIVA3wwTI/AAAAAAAADUk/C_pojca9Nc8/s1600/IMG_0893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dBCnBuUG69I/T3YIVA3wwTI/AAAAAAAADUk/C_pojca9Nc8/s320/IMG_0893.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Kim and I just before the Army/Navy football game </i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>as we sparred just before Bible Study</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Though she is a Navy wife and I'm an Army mom, and many of us are familiar with the friendly banter shared between these two military branches, moreover we are friends and sisters in Christ. We brush past the fact that her hubs is a Navy grad and my oldest OS will soon graduate from West Point ;) Moreover, Kim has honored her promise to the Lord and actively searches opportunities to tell her story. God uses His people when we let Him. Some of the most shameful parts of my life, things Satan would say you can never discuss because people will judge you or hate you or call you names, the Lord told me to open my mouth and no longer let those chains shackle me. He has allowed me to share parts of my former life with thousands of people because those things point to His redemption, goodness and love. Kim has done the same although her content is different. She doesn't say no to sharing be it a large audience or the hurting grandma in Room 370 (my mom). </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-urBm_asSuBw/T3YIx7Yml4I/AAAAAAAADUs/xQnDLCBQFE4/s1600/photo+copy+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-urBm_asSuBw/T3YIx7Yml4I/AAAAAAAADUs/xQnDLCBQFE4/s320/photo+copy+6.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Encouragement</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">When I prayed for my friend to get better, it didn't occur to me that <i>I </i>needed her, not just as my Bible Study buddy but as an encourager to someone I love. She is teaching me things because the Lord is her teacher. So how about you? Don't discount how YOU can be a blessing. Consider the ways your own story and suffering are touchstones intended to draw you and others closer to the God of All Comfort. Being Kim's friend has made me more sensitive to helping others and moving beyond myself. I pray the same for you, dear friends...more soon</span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-50121958959244050762012-03-29T22:45:00.000-04:002012-05-14T19:31:01.072-04:00When you can find joy...<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1eWSG0fCZJw/T3Uag1EC7bI/AAAAAAAADT0/OXxBHrCzQ58/s1600/photo+copy+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1eWSG0fCZJw/T3Uag1EC7bI/AAAAAAAADT0/OXxBHrCzQ58/s320/photo+copy+5.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #669966;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Part of the crew while we waited <br />for the nurses to change my mom's IV</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Well, it's not been for lack of content that I haven't written. Trust me. It's because life has been <i>replete</i> with content that finding a moment to reflect has escaped me. My mom is being transferred to an assisted care facility tomorrow after quite a time in the hospital. So much to process and I believe it's worthy of sharing but sometimes it's hard to know where to begin. This I know for sure, our journey is one you shouldn't do without Jesus. </span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-znT3CIDG6Co/T3Ua4ay083I/AAAAAAAADT8/8N4UGuJpbtc/s1600/photo+copy+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-znT3CIDG6Co/T3Ua4ay083I/AAAAAAAADT8/8N4UGuJpbtc/s320/photo+copy+2.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #669966;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sometimes we make a mess of things <br />and only God can make something good come out of it.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Strange as it seems, there has been joy. Not a synthetic eudaimonia either. The circumstances surrounding my mom's long recovery and complications aren't particularly pleasant. Had someone told me I would be laughing and silly with all the mess going on, I would have been incredulous. My family has been united. We have loved my mom and each other with honesty and courage. Whether it's the orange hair freckle face OS's tender cards of encouragement for his grandma or the middle OS trekking to faithfully see her; manifold blessings bloom in the spring air. Aaron has pastoral aspirations and I have witnessed the gifting the Lord has placed on his life as he visits my mom with his ukulele or guitar and always his Bible close at hand. He even went to another woman's hospital room (the grandma of one of his friends) and ministered to her aching soul. The Hubs has been my hero. My baby sister who lives nearby has been strong and hilarious showing power when I had none. Extended family has rallied behind us. Really, friends, don't do this journey if you can avoid it (and really don't do it without Jesus, seriously). I still remain thankful despite the fact that my mom isn't doing back-springs and cartwheels out of the hospital. Ok, that's a funny word picture. So as I was sitting in church on Sunday, tears streaming from my eyes, anxiety looming, heart breaking; there was still an undercurrent of contentment. How could that be?</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tlxifk8ucaA/T3UbONnXmwI/AAAAAAAADUE/DKIVu8EbD9s/s1600/photo+copy+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tlxifk8ucaA/T3UbONnXmwI/AAAAAAAADUE/DKIVu8EbD9s/s320/photo+copy+3.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #669966;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Message from a freckle face, <br />orange hair OS to his grandma</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">One of the women in church was praying out loud. Reject any notion that might pop into your head of a person in a trance or losing her mind. Even if you aren't a church-going person, my hunch is you wouldn't have been creeped out. Sincerity flowed from her lips and I loved her prayer because she quoted Old Testament Scripture.</span><br />
<div class="heading passage-class-0" style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<h3 style="color: #5c1101; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Habakkuk 3:17-19</span></h3>
<div class="txt-sm" style="color: #5c1101; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-22786" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">17</sup> Though the fig tree does not bud</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"> and there are no grapes on the vines, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">though the olive crop fails </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">and the fields produce no food, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">though there are no sheep in the pen </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">and no cattle in the stalls, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-22787" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">18</sup> yet I will rejoice in the LORD, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">I will be joyful in God my Savior.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-22788" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">19</sup> The Sovereign LORD is my strength; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">he enables me to tread on the heights.</span></span></div>
<div class="txt-sm" style="color: #5c1101; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hearing those timeless words was a balm to my spirit. Lacking a prophet's eloquence and wisdom, my own Habakkuk prayer would go something like this...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_zVHXpkioKk/T3Ubh9hUpWI/AAAAAAAADUM/v-Ujdf9DqYY/s1600/photo+copy+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_zVHXpkioKk/T3Ubh9hUpWI/AAAAAAAADUM/v-Ujdf9DqYY/s320/photo+copy+4.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #669966;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Make a joyful noise my sweet and precious child</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><i>Though the circumstances of my mom's struggles are yucky; though I am not in control of all the variables; though I am sad and tired; though I would like to not know so many nurses; though my car instinctively knows how to get to the hospital, though I had text-finger (which by the way, is painful) because of my nearly constant communication with others; though my mom really needs to find more motivation and umph; yea though there is still laundry and meals, yet I will rejoice in God my Savior. What choice do I have? My arthritic knee creaks and bends in humble praise of the One who can do immeasurably more than I could ever expect or imagine. Amen</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">My writer friend, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Chicken-Soup-Soul-Caregivers-Sacrifice/dp/1935096834">the recently published</a>, soon to be immensely famous <a href="http://joygoggles.blogspot.com/">Cara McLaughlin</a> recently shared, "believing is the hardest part but it's also the best part."</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">Today I'm embracing the believing part of this journey satisfied with what God is doing even if it's not as I imagined it. More soon...</span></span></div>
</div>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-576182297179047772012-03-22T14:32:00.000-04:002012-05-14T19:31:29.930-04:00Hospitals and hair<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Grm88r4MmcE/T2tpWUSMsJI/AAAAAAAADTk/HDc0LG0JP0c/s1600/2c2d616e744811e1b9f1123138140926_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Grm88r4MmcE/T2tpWUSMsJI/AAAAAAAADTk/HDc0LG0JP0c/s1600/2c2d616e744811e1b9f1123138140926_6.jpg" style="border: 4px solid #669966;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Pretty blossoms in the hospital courtyard</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Having a good hair day in a hospital seems like a waste. Yesterday I was out in public and would have appreciated a bit of flounce. Today I sit in Room 115, a small, antiseptic space squished in a chair. My hair and I listen to the sounds of my mother wracked with pain and wheezing. My hair displays the life my mother needs more. Stupid tv options, frequent interruptions, feelings of hopelessness, confusion and frustration fill the skull but my pink-streaked hair has vitality. Ironic. Hard to concentrate, don't have medical degree, unclear on every level. Ate homemade soup, heard from friends far and wide. Many praying, offers of support and love cover nearly every state and portions of Central America. Aunt spent the night at the hospital and heard the screams of pain. Oh Jesus. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BLXlzrE64aI/T2tpoJETD_I/AAAAAAAADTs/_ssWN6dtc9E/s1600/63a0ca96744811e1a87612313804ec91_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BLXlzrE64aI/T2tpoJETD_I/AAAAAAAADTs/_ssWN6dtc9E/s1600/63a0ca96744811e1a87612313804ec91_6.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Romans 8:26 <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Likewise the Spirit helps us </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">in our weakness. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For we do not know </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">what to pray for as we ought, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">but the Spirit himself intercedes for us </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">with groanings too deep for words.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">When I arrived at the hospital this morning, my aunt's hair was disheveled and if it had a voice, her hair would have stories I just can't hear right now. My mom's hair is sweaty and matted. It needs its owner to get up and wash it and style it. I would even be ok if she used the curling iron and that's saying something. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Having a good hair day in a hospital seems like a waste, at least it does for me. </span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-90603020020180825212012-03-19T13:33:00.000-04:002012-05-14T19:32:41.368-04:00We are West Point Moms!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I could barely eek out a few words before bursting into tears. We had never met and yet there was a bond between us as soon as she answered the phone. We were West Point moms at opposite ends of the 48 month adventure. The warmth in her voice removed the little resolve I had left to keep it all together. I attempted to ask some factual questions but really all I wanted to know is that <i>she</i> survived. Since she was still able to speak in full sentences, I perceived that as a good sign. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-so0ZiSAI0j4/T2ddFqcVgUI/AAAAAAAADTM/_yAz_3F2cAA/s1600/Life+Form+Chart.v2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="299" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-so0ZiSAI0j4/T2ddFqcVgUI/AAAAAAAADTM/_yAz_3F2cAA/s320/Life+Form+Chart.v2.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Hubs made this graph when </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nate was a new cadet, it's so true!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Don't we all want to find kindred spirits, people who can help us along life's way? I sure do. In many aspects, the desire to be encouraged and embraced is central to feeling a sense of community. Connection is what I've found in being a West Point Mom.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3zxs2PDqJWY/T2dhRQdI2KI/AAAAAAAADTU/PEtTW-Z-f6g/s1600/IMG_20110303_155058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3zxs2PDqJWY/T2dhRQdI2KI/AAAAAAAADTU/PEtTW-Z-f6g/s320/IMG_20110303_155058.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(92, 92, 92); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">WP moms come in all sizes!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Perhaps mothers with children in traditional universities have a bond. As my middle OS begins college at <a href="http://www.moody.edu/">Moody Bible Institute</a> this fall, it would be nice to meet mothers who have children pursuing ministry. Yet I must be honest, my expectations will be high because West Point moms spoil each other with kindness.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Here are just a few examples of what it's like to be a WP mom. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MFt3qIWI3Rk/T2dJRcbcJjI/AAAAAAAADS0/jaRpIyFBDKk/s1600/418183_10150592214850059_720630058_9471052_513076390_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MFt3qIWI3Rk/T2dJRcbcJjI/AAAAAAAADS0/jaRpIyFBDKk/s320/418183_10150592214850059_720630058_9471052_513076390_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This is the cutest Girl Scout delivery </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">boy in El Salvador!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Recently my oldest OS went to see his bonita in El Salvador. She likes Girl Scout cookies and Nate couldn't possibly go there empty-handed! He had bought her tea and nail polish which truly threatened his "Man Card" but Girl Scout cookies was another must-have item. Well, one quick message on facebook and a WP mom, whom Nate has never met, shipped EIGHT, yes EIGHT boxes to my boy, free of charge.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n1qs9mdN_sA/T2dak5ZwF5I/AAAAAAAADTE/Q8Ad5Y8rhjQ/s1600/best-selling-girl-scout-cookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="289" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n1qs9mdN_sA/T2dak5ZwF5I/AAAAAAAADTE/Q8Ad5Y8rhjQ/s320/best-selling-girl-scout-cookies.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Girl Scout cookies make girlfriends happy!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Nate was hoping to avoid parking fees at the airport while on vacation in El Sal. A simple message to my WP moms and a grandma of a cadet offered Nate to park his car at her home for the week.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A mom asks for prayers and a swarm of WP moms respond with concern. A mom posts a picture of her cadet on the page and we gush as if it were our own bairn.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">There is no paucity of concern or compassion. The Scripture passage found in Romans 12:15 is fitting. <i>"Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn."</i> Though most of us haven't met in person, we understand each other. We don't all share the same political convictions or spiritual beliefs, some don't even use <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2012/02/love-me-love-my-soap-nuts.html">soap nuts</a>(!) but nonetheless we are a sisterhood. We realize our cadets will most likely travel in harm's way. We get it in ways most don't. Current events and conflicts in foreign lands impact our children's future. As our cadets return from Spring Break, many weepy moms lamented about missing their cadet. We reassured them and gathered them into the fold cuz that's how WP mamas roll. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-41Z9AAGD1eg/T2dpoeCZ-iI/AAAAAAAADTc/j6pS7LLVcbc/s1600/421182_2793279794342_1328824687_32229292_82571278_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-41Z9AAGD1eg/T2dpoeCZ-iI/AAAAAAAADTc/j6pS7LLVcbc/s1600/421182_2793279794342_1328824687_32229292_82571278_a.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This is a common WP mom facial <br />expression. It's hard to let go!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Now I'm at the other end of this experience. Nate graduates the end of May. I don't want it to end but I know my cadet is ready to see where life leads him. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The current trajectory is Georgia, Colorado and then possibly Kuwait. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c9ljm4FnfvI/T2dRqpiWuQI/AAAAAAAADS8/8k6xzDBG8ak/s1600/429242_370766052955581_100000665678821_1284314_1595475387_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="217" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c9ljm4FnfvI/T2dRqpiWuQI/AAAAAAAADS8/8k6xzDBG8ak/s320/429242_370766052955581_100000665678821_1284314_1595475387_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Even if you're not a WP mom, you will enjoy this video one of my friends created. One day soon your child will embark on new journeys and it will tug on your heart even if your baby isn't heading to the <a href="http://www.usma.edu/">United States Military Academy</a>. I've watched this video many times and I can't get through it without shedding a tear. A picture of Nate and I at Ring Weekend is found on 00.53 of <a href="http://video214.com/play/7mbOE7jqN3NDD5QoEH0X7A/s/dark">this link</a>. What a privilege to be part of this long grey line!</span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-68027174043479457452012-03-09T19:07:00.000-05:002012-03-09T21:41:54.629-05:00Soap Nuts Winner!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Judging from the responses left on my facebook and blog post, many of you have joined the chorus saying, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><i>"I'm sick and tired of being pococurante about laundry!"</i> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">...um, you <i>do</i> know what <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">pococurante</span> means, don't you? <looks bespectacled="" disdainfully="" lens="" through=""><looks bespeckled="" disdainfully="" from="" lens=""><looks bespectacled="" disdainfully="" lens="" through=""> (looks disdainfully through bespectacled lens) </looks></looks></looks></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lKWPe9gMBWo/T1qXqPPx00I/AAAAAAAADSc/drewxpDNVIo/s1600/IMG_1534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lKWPe9gMBWo/T1qXqPPx00I/AAAAAAAADSc/drewxpDNVIo/s320/IMG_1534.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Soap nuts amid my homemade fabric bowls</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Prior to yesterday, I didn't know what it meant to be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">pococurante</span> but this mama of three oliveshoots has been <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">pococurante</span> about laundry for far too long, my friends! Thanks to <a href="http://dictionary.com/">dictionary.com</a>, now I don't have to say I've been careless and indifferent about cleaning clothes. Thank you dictionary.com! Each day a fancy new word arrives in my email box and yesterday's word was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">pococurante</span>. You should have seen the OS's faces as I was extolling the virtues of soap nuts and then I nonchalantly told them last night that I was no longer <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">pococunrate</span> about dirty clothes. They were like, "wha???"</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h3yRd0OwhuQ/T1qTWTl_QTI/AAAAAAAADSU/k4iti4EKmGY/s1600/dic_logo.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="74" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h3yRd0OwhuQ/T1qTWTl_QTI/AAAAAAAADSU/k4iti4EKmGY/s320/dic_logo.png" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>my trusted source for fancy words</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Now that you are thoroughly impressed with my vocabularic (my new invented word) acumen, let me announce the winner of the DELUXE Soap Nuts Combination Package.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FyLw1XhFNHs/T1qQtz9mvZI/AAAAAAAADSM/EvXaTNx4t_o/s1600/420457_10150855101293018_624118017_12591232_2022140954_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FyLw1XhFNHs/T1qQtz9mvZI/AAAAAAAADSM/EvXaTNx4t_o/s320/420457_10150855101293018_624118017_12591232_2022140954_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Way to go, Julie!</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'm working on a few more things regarding soap nuts and other items so my hunch is this will not be the last giveaway I offer though it might be the most extravagant. I look forward to hearing from Julie about her experiences with all the <a href="https://store.naturoli.com/">NaturOli </a>products she can try. Considering she has been sick as a dog with her current pregnancy, I'm sure you can all join me in being happy that in between bouts of nausea, Julie has something to make her feel better.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--1pMJkAIr24/T1qY_jAVTEI/AAAAAAAADSs/scdRGcOk0Ek/s1600/SN-EL-DP-00-08-lg-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--1pMJkAIr24/T1qY_jAVTEI/AAAAAAAADSs/scdRGcOk0Ek/s1600/SN-EL-DP-00-08-lg-1.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>This is the Deluxe Soap Nuts Combination </i><br /><i>Package offered in the giveaway </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Based on a suggestion from an interested mom, I'm now seriously contemplating having a soap nuts party. People are curious on how to use them and how they work. If people can have Pampered Chef parties (which I think are wonderful!), then perhaps a continuing education course on soap nuts is in order. If you like the idea, let me know. If you are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">pococurante</span>, I'd want to hear about that also. ;)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In the midst of celebrating the Hubs' 50th birthday and a CRAZY compliment the orange hair, freckle face OS (future blog post) gave me yesterday, I washed my middle OS's linens with soap nuts. The first thing I noticed was how crisp and fluffy Aaron's sheets and pillow cases felt in the dryer. The other thing I noticed was that it took a lot less time for the items to dry. I'm not sure if this is a phenomena based on soap nuts but I'm going to ask the experts and I'll let you know. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Use code WPMoms for 10% off including most sale items!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">How many other blogs out there have used a unique word, talked about laundry AND soap nuts? That's just how we do! Congrats to Julie and I sincerely would appreciate you readers telling me what you think about a soap nuts party even if you couldn't attend. Try to find a way to incorporate that <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/pococurante">fun word</a> into your weekend conversations!</span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-89696179661020697932012-03-02T13:32:00.000-05:002012-05-14T19:34:22.804-04:00There's something about a soap nut - Discount and generous give-away!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>My friend Becki's first load of laundry with <br />soap nuts - what a moment!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">So maybe you're like I was and you're curious about this whole soap nuts thing. I'm a soap nuts neophyte but a true believer in this product. For me, if soap nuts were a pop star, they would be Justin Bieber. If soap nuts were a pizza, they would be Chicago style. If soap nuts were an exercise system, they would be Zumba. Yes, I'm smitten by </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.naturoli.com/soapnuts/how.html">saponin</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">, I cannot lie.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Saponin-based products clean naturally without chemicals or sulfates </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">and I've worked out a great offer with the folks at <a href="http://www.naturoli.com/index.html">NaturOli</a>. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Last night I spoke on the phone for over TWO hours with the co-founder of <a href="http://www.naturoli.com/mission/whynaturoli.html">NaturOli</a> and I'm more convinced than ever that soap nuts are fantastic. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">I'm not a paid spokesperson for NaturOli, just a happy customer that did a little legwork and wanted to see if I could do something special for my readers. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A stinky load of Soldier's clothes this past summer<br />from my cadet's time at <br />Fort Benning this summer - PU!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">So here's the deal. You can discover the versatility of soap nuts <i>and</i> save money. Experience the many all-natural wonders of soap nuts products and: </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">1. Get a 10% discount on NaturOli using the following code: <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e;">WPMoms</span></i>. Enter the coupon code at the bottom of your shopping cart page (you have to scroll down to the bottom). The code <span style="font-style: italic;">WPMoms </span>is not case sensitive and will work store-wide and even apply to many items already on sale. Click <a href="https://store.naturoli.com/">here</a> to see all the cool products they offer. Some exclusions on products may apply so if that happens, please understand.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">The NaturOli folks also suggested that you join their mailing list. Click <a href="http://www.naturoli.com/joinus/index.html">here</a> for that so you can keep informed about their products. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ec96kCGd2QI/T1EL1iB9bcI/AAAAAAAADR8/ceRpwGxGIOY/s1600/SN-EL-DP-00-08-lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ec96kCGd2QI/T1EL1iB9bcI/AAAAAAAADR8/ceRpwGxGIOY/s1600/SN-EL-DP-00-08-lg.jpg" style="border: 5px solid #5C5C5C;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This could be yours! I'm jealous!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">2. <b><i>And then there's this...</i></b><heart beating="" excitedly=""></heart></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">I'm offering an awesome give-away. Leave a comment on my facebook or on this blog post. On Friday, March 9th, I'll draw a name and have them send you this package. It's a $70 gift (I secretly want to enter my own name but I won't!) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Here's what one very blessed person will receive:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;">A DELUXE Soap Nuts Combination Package</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
...with all full size and/or large soap nuts products!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;">Includes:</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
- A 16-oz NaturOli "Select" Soap Nuts, USDA certified organic. (With heavy-duty wash bag and 8-page info and instructions.)</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
- An 8-oz "Extreme 18X" soap nuts liquid concentrate with pump.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
- A rich Soap Nuts Shampoo Bar, large size.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
- A luxurious, handmade Soap Nuts Cleansing Bar, large size.
</span><span style="color: orangered; font-size: x-large;">IMPORTANT NOTE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">: Currently sold out, alternate large natural soap bar will be substituted.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
- A 16-oz "Extreme Hair" Soap Nut Shampoo. (Please specify formula desired.)</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
- A Soap Nuts Laundry Pre-Treat Stick.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">NOTE: Stick dispenser type may vary from shown. Product weight will be equal or more.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">
- A 4-oz jar of finely ground and sifted, mukorossi Soap Nuts Powder for laundry, housecleaning or personal care.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fp3XB7lM4f0/T1EJxWvtSJI/AAAAAAAADRk/OMGjYXvZXcc/s1600/IMG_1496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fp3XB7lM4f0/T1EJxWvtSJI/AAAAAAAADRk/OMGjYXvZXcc/s320/IMG_1496.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">my laundry life pre-soap nuts = blah</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Up until a few weeks ago, when it came to washing clothes, I was just your everyday wife with pink highlights and the mama of three oliveshoots...a <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2009/03/smiles-are-everywhere.html">West Point cadet</a>, a <a href="http://www.naturoli.com/mission/whynaturoli.html">Renaissance man</a> and an o<a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2011/08/doing-hard-things-laughing.html">range hair, freckle face athlete</a>. YAWN! ;) But now my laundry life is nearly thrilling and the possibilities are endless.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RcZ5A_PGDJw/T1EJNJZbLsI/AAAAAAAADRc/F61npzmsN54/s1600/IMG_1489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RcZ5A_PGDJw/T1EJNJZbLsI/AAAAAAAADRc/F61npzmsN54/s320/IMG_1489.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Now, here's a freshly washed load of laundry = shazam!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">So hey, leave a comment and enter the drawing. What have you got to lose? Help me spread the word about soap nuts and use the 10% discount...code <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">WPMoms</span>. Go soap nuts and thanks <a href="https://store.naturoli.com/">NaturOli</a>! </span><br />
<br />MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-11294231620703386752012-02-26T15:25:00.000-05:002012-05-14T19:35:47.896-04:00Love me, love my soap nuts<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0QkDZ6WGW0k/T0qIMS-rLrI/AAAAAAAADQs/hpD7udCEUyw/s1600/IMG_1258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0QkDZ6WGW0k/T0qIMS-rLrI/AAAAAAAADQs/hpD7udCEUyw/s320/IMG_1258.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You have to do something BIG for your 50th birthday.<br />I chose to begin life with soap nuts. </span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It was destiny, destiny I tell you that the box of soap nuts arrived on my 50th birthday. I don't usually air our dirty laundry (horrible pun) but now that it's getting clean, let me brag for a moment about my new cleansing agent.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hPbybscsS-4/T0qI2VzXuSI/AAAAAAAADQ0/vvfrod4RJXk/s1600/IMG_1325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hPbybscsS-4/T0qI2VzXuSI/AAAAAAAADQ0/vvfrod4RJXk/s320/IMG_1325.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Do not be afraid, my friends, these are only soap nuts. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">From the foothills of the Himalayan Mountains, several pounds of the dried shells of the sapindus mukorossi trees have found purpose in the suburbs of North Carolina. Oh how I wished I had these nuts when my oldest OS was a lowly plebe just starting at West Point. My olfactory buds have suffered greatly from the mounds of West Point laundry. There have been times when I have nearly driven home from the airport with the windows in my SUV open because Nate smelled really bad. Oddly enough it wasn't due to poor hygiene, it was his clothing. When I informed Nate that he REEKED, he expressed confusion not knowing whether it was the cheap laundry detergent he was using or the frequently used washing machines on post. I'm still in disbelief that he went to see his bonita in El Salvador with that unpleasant odor attached to his clothing. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-liVDS70eReg/T0qNdOTZGYI/AAAAAAAADRU/gdedArf1dIg/s1600/162646_474109295058_720630058_6307266_7207286_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-liVDS70eReg/T0qNdOTZGYI/AAAAAAAADRU/gdedArf1dIg/s320/162646_474109295058_720630058_6307266_7207286_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Soldier and his bonita in El Salvador. He's going there for Spring Break. <br />Clean your clothes well before you leave to go see her, Nate!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">But perhaps I have found the solution. My chest swelled with pride when Nate came home recently and I introduced him to soap nuts. While he was a bit skeptical about Mom and one of my latest "things," here's what I told him about the newest addition to the family. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--SbqPI1Wc4k/T0qFngXp2KI/AAAAAAAADQc/ILHlmHo2wHQ/s1600/IMG_1477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--SbqPI1Wc4k/T0qFngXp2KI/AAAAAAAADQc/ILHlmHo2wHQ/s320/IMG_1477.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This is the equivalent of at least eight loads of laundry</span></i></td></tr>
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Our clothes are cleaner</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> - Imbedded stains have nearly disappeared. Without any additional spot removers or bleach, the soap nuts are kicking stains' butts. It's shocking how fresh and bright our clothes and linens have become. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Our clothes feel nicer </i>- Dare I admit I now even enjoy folding clothes again? Please don't tell anyone else in the family. The texture of our laundry is more authentic. Ungainly t-shirts hold their heads up higher, towels have absorptive confidence. Who'd have thunk?</span></li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JSIDyvyJFwY/T0p6fArrhhI/AAAAAAAADQM/L-r9_w0aXQs/s1600/IMG_1346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JSIDyvyJFwY/T0p6fArrhhI/AAAAAAAADQM/L-r9_w0aXQs/s320/IMG_1346.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Soaking them soap nuts</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And here's a really weird thing I've noticed </span><br />
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Our clothes even sound better</i> - As someone with sensitive hearing, sounds influence my daily life. The sizzle of popcorn after the kernels have just finished exploding delights but I'm drawn to the brink of insanity by the smacking of lips or the licking of fingers. A </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>very</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> prominent person in my life does the latter so I'm quite familiar with this sound. And while it might sound really strange to most people, I have noticed the laundry sounds different and I never perceived the sound of laundry until my encounter with soap nuts. </span></li>
</ul>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Enjoy this brief "music" clip of my soap nuts. For artistic purposes, I included some almonds in the picture. Do not use almonds in your laundry! ;)</span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>No residual odors</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> - Have ever washed your face with a wash cloth that smells like it had cleaned an armpit? It has happened too many times to me and I'm sick of it! Especially frustrating is when I know that the towel was freshly cleaned and still throw it out because the smell has lingered. Well friends, that is a now thing of the past. With soap nuts, there is no funky smell. I cannot detect the body part previously scrubbed with any towel. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Much less lint</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> - the dryer has about a 10th of its previous lint! I guess that's a good thing, right?</span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>No odors - </i>aside from the slight vinegar smell of the soap nuts, my nose detects no chemical odors or perfumes.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Fun to use </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">- I just soak about six soap nuts in a small muslin bag, immerse them in warm water during my washing machine and that's it. After the rinse cycle, I just hang my nuts on the knob on the cabinet until the next time. You can use the soap nuts for about 4-7 times before they are done and then I just toss them in my backyard. They are eco-friendly like that. </span></li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fv6eGIYZJjI/T0qF-ZAl36I/AAAAAAAADQk/cmy1B-2Jquk/s1600/401185_10150788989528018_624118017_12372645_396386660_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fv6eGIYZJjI/T0qF-ZAl36I/AAAAAAAADQk/cmy1B-2Jquk/s320/401185_10150788989528018_624118017_12372645_396386660_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"I'm taking these pants and my mom's soap </i><br />
<i>nuts to college!"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Take up less space, weigh nearly nothing</i> - As we prepare for our middle OS to attend <a href="http://www.moody.edu/edu_channelmain.aspx?id=4120">Moody Bible Institute</a> in the fall, Aaron will have his own supply of soap nuts quite possibly with a small monogrammed muslin bag. ;) I might even give them as gifts for his college bound friends. Aaron will surely be the coolest guy pursuing a ministry degree <i>and</i> he will have more room in his dorm. Perhaps he will even wear his homemade bibliophile pajama pants to the laundry room and send the ladies into orbit!</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VXtW6yr_3X0/T0qLVpoA7_I/AAAAAAAADRM/Mw7cTve7Jz4/s1600/McCarthur.jpb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VXtW6yr_3X0/T0qLVpoA7_I/AAAAAAAADRM/Mw7cTve7Jz4/s320/McCarthur.jpb.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #5C5C5C;" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I think West Point needs soap nuts!" </span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Here's some more information if you are interested in learning more about <a href="https://store.naturoli.com/">soap nuts</a>. Many times I have purchased products and been disappointed. My experience with soap nuts <a href="http://www.naturoli.com/soapnuts/how.html">(click this to see how they work)</a> has exceeded my expectations. Thanks to my Himalayan Mountain treasures, I can now proclaim, "Bring on the stinky Soldier! Send hither the malodorous minister! Come nigh thy athletic ginger, your mother and her soap nuts await you all with open arms."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A friend sent me <a href="http://www.sapindusmukorossi.com/">this link</a>, thought I'd pass it along. </span></div>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-76237062833694288262012-02-12T12:07:00.000-05:002012-02-12T15:23:42.874-05:0026-50 things I'm thankful for<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">To continue with my 50 things I'm thankful for:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">26. The hubs gave me a rough draft of a book he's creating of all my blog posts from last year. This sweet man has poured hours preparing it and it is a family treasure.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x_wu2mF-md0/Tzfhm3mFPiI/AAAAAAAADPE/O-K2ENOqrZ8/s1600/IMG_1251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x_wu2mF-md0/Tzfhm3mFPiI/AAAAAAAADPE/O-K2ENOqrZ8/s320/IMG_1251.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from Charles</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">27. For the first time in my life, I got a birthday card from Charles. Charles is the quirky alter ego of my orange hair, freckle face OS. Charles spawned an alter ego in me named Charlene. Charles and Charlene speak their own language and have unique accents. No one else in the family really likes Charles and Charlene but we/they have fun together. Thanks Charles!</span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n-MUeZ3R0WM/TzfdJS7DBEI/AAAAAAAADOc/QfUwwb7A-Ok/s1600/401008_10150491191545059_720630058_9155631_2088683175_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n-MUeZ3R0WM/TzfdJS7DBEI/AAAAAAAADOc/QfUwwb7A-Ok/s1600/401008_10150491191545059_720630058_9155631_2088683175_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">28. <i>a birthday card announcement from </i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>my cadet in French and Spanish</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">29. For my birthday, I also received a beautiful letter from my oldest OS. And, just like Nate, he forgot to sign it! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">30. Thread - I have new thread. Thread makes things happen. Oh yeah.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jMgaXtmGJ_s/TzfisBs-UoI/AAAAAAAADPU/Cf2InG69eBw/s1600/15387-bibimbap-healthy-rice-spry__crop-wide-565x244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="138" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jMgaXtmGJ_s/TzfisBs-UoI/AAAAAAAADPU/Cf2InG69eBw/s320/15387-bibimbap-healthy-rice-spry__crop-wide-565x244.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>bibimbap, I prefer mine without the egg</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">31. We entertained a Korean exchange student during my birthday weekend and she made us <a href="http://www.relish.com/recipes/bibimbap/">bibimbap</a> and other tasty Korean foods. And I've now eaten <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bracken">bracken</a>...you're welcome. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ztQ9nzW64X8/TzfiHE_QX4I/AAAAAAAADPM/PfX0O96PdME/s1600/240px-Pteridium_aquilinum_nf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ztQ9nzW64X8/TzfiHE_QX4I/AAAAAAAADPM/PfX0O96PdME/s320/240px-Pteridium_aquilinum_nf.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="189" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>bracken, fiddleheads, they are edible</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">32. My <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001DU4XPY/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_3?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=B001NU2L8U&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=07XM0BX01RSHA6K6VZ3A">soap nuts</a> arrived. I've been using them for two weeks - love them, seriously!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">33. I finished a guest blog post - taa daa!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">34. At the end of my birthday night, my middle OS Aaron gave me a video of the past year. I cried through the whole thing but only had one big crying snort, it couldn't be helped. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">35. No snow or ice storms on my birthday. For someone born January 27th in the States, those things usually go hand in hand.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BepxdowrxSU/TzfoZqwIfrI/AAAAAAAADPc/a2G5hg4-jNo/s1600/497d5484559611e19896123138142014_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BepxdowrxSU/TzfoZqwIfrI/AAAAAAAADPc/a2G5hg4-jNo/s1600/497d5484559611e19896123138142014_6.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #FF99CC;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>a mama of oliveshoots needs olive fabric. <br />but now what do I do with it? </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">36. My road trip to <a href="http://maryjos.com/">MaryJo's Cloth Store</a> with friends was joyful. Four women in an SUV talking about everything without gossip is a blessing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">37. I bought some 1 1/2 yards of olive fabric. Any suggestions on what a mama of oliveshoots can do with this? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">38. I have three pounds of dried black turtle beans. They are exquisite.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5S0FfdoJtN8/Tzfqc2wOSJI/AAAAAAAADPs/-aW6zbHMQYE/s1600/84d3df7a559711e1b9f1123138140926_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5S0FfdoJtN8/Tzfqc2wOSJI/AAAAAAAADPs/-aW6zbHMQYE/s1600/84d3df7a559711e1b9f1123138140926_6.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #FF99CC;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>= yum</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">39. My birthday cake from Blue Moon Bakery - simply divine with raspberry frosting, chocolate mousse filling. And it matched my hair. It's good when your hair matches your cake.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VOqS9NOWooI/TzfpczXWdTI/AAAAAAAADPk/25qPZ6-7PXM/s1600/f3be83f0559611e19896123138142014_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VOqS9NOWooI/TzfpczXWdTI/AAAAAAAADPk/25qPZ6-7PXM/s1600/f3be83f0559611e19896123138142014_6.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">gorgeous made from scratch poundcake</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">40. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">But before we enjoyed the bakery cake on Saturday with my extended family on Friday night, a wonderful family friend surprised me with a homemade pound cake she made from scratch. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">41. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ike's team won their game! My orange hair, freckle face OS blazed the court on my b-day!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">42. My mom does not have cancer. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">43. Balloons.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">44. A singing birthday greeting from my cousin's family. Tis a sweet melody hearing four girls who love the Lord leave a message for me.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-42UTUV20qkM/TzfdOo52KPI/AAAAAAAADOk/yd1U8iAWpK4/s1600/408146_10150491190410059_720630058_9155628_337068163_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-42UTUV20qkM/TzfdOo52KPI/AAAAAAAADOk/yd1U8iAWpK4/s320/408146_10150491190410059_720630058_9155628_337068163_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="245" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">45. <i>another birthday announcement from my cadet - in Arabic and English! I'm pretty sure his roommate helped him with the Arabic. </i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w27ifCPwb3I/TzfdxHAY9II/AAAAAAAADOs/6iC5i1ZxbtA/s1600/431590_10150773706288018_624118017_12328556_1663398312_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #996633;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>pj pants for a book lover!</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w27ifCPwb3I/TzfdxHAY9II/AAAAAAAADOs/6iC5i1ZxbtA/s1600/431590_10150773706288018_624118017_12328556_1663398312_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">46. I made a pair of pajama pants for one of my two bibliophiles. He's going to wear them during Spirit Week. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">47. Jesus who gave me a redemptive life. </span><br />
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</div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">48. Zumba which is giving me a redemptive body (maybe)...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">49. <a href="http://loumalnatis.com/">Lou Malnati's</a> pizza from my aunt and uncle shipped from Chicago which necessitates blessing #48!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MbFaGI4H5xg/TzffN6B1opI/AAAAAAAADO0/064d72SRuw4/s1600/402277_10150492140785059_720630058_9157471_1881780410_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i><img height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MbFaGI4H5xg/TzffN6B1opI/AAAAAAAADO0/064d72SRuw4/s320/402277_10150492140785059_720630058_9157471_1881780410_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #996633;" width="320" /></i></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>50. And lastly, another birthday greeting from my Soldier. I know this was no small feat for my OS to do, thank you precious son! </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<br />MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-74467837532225594432012-01-26T12:07:00.000-05:002012-01-26T12:16:42.800-05:0025 out of 50 things I'm thankful for<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CtJNtCWpFdQ/TyF_JDV-IQI/AAAAAAAADN0/QLnsdJ_wzTM/s1600/Grandma+Berg+and+Cindy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CtJNtCWpFdQ/TyF_JDV-IQI/AAAAAAAADN0/QLnsdJ_wzTM/s320/Grandma+Berg+and+Cindy.jpg" style="border: 6px solid #FF7A7A;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I've always known how to have fun on my birthday! </span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Tomorrow is a big day for me. I used to think 50 year old people were old. Now I think they are, well, they are...me as of January 27. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Here is half of the 50 things I'm thankful for. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRDtwEJtx6Y/TyF_EHBAK1I/AAAAAAAADNs/OBlG4UE_MN0/s1600/IMG_1230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRDtwEJtx6Y/TyF_EHBAK1I/AAAAAAAADNs/OBlG4UE_MN0/s320/IMG_1230.JPG" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 138, 184); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Class of 2016 = woot</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1. My middle OS has been accepted to Moody Bible Institute!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2. This means I will have a semi-regular pizza delivery boy! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3. I had a wonderful experience speaking to a local MOPS group and I want to do it again! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">4. My topic was "Raising Mighty Oliveshoots" and I'm sensing the Lord is creating something. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">5. My oldest OS has done so well as West Point that he will be getting his first choice for his post and unit. This means that Nate will probably be going to Fort Carson in Colorado. I suggested "Fort" Cary (we live in Cary!) but he seemed disinterested. No worries though!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">6. My orange hair, freckle face OS's basketball team is currently in first place and his back pain is subsiding.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-brH7PEE8Srk/TyF-7h8NsiI/AAAAAAAADNk/Wlo--Zpk8mI/s1600/IMG_0330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-brH7PEE8Srk/TyF-7h8NsiI/AAAAAAAADNk/Wlo--Zpk8mI/s320/IMG_0330.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Few moments are as epic as when you <br />and your OS get to meet Mary Jo!</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">7. I'm going to <a href="http://maryjos.com/">MaryJo's Cloth Store</a> in Gastonia on Saturday with friends. Ignite endorphin levels!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">8. I soaked some almonds overnight in water and evaporated cane juice. I drained the water and just before putting them into the <a href="http://www.excaliburdehydrator.com/">dehydrator</a>, I sprinkled cinnamon on them. They taste GOOD! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lO3ZUyDCp3Y/TyF8A2RbPtI/AAAAAAAADNc/UZ0qU55q5Gg/s1600/bibimbap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lO3ZUyDCp3Y/TyF8A2RbPtI/AAAAAAAADNc/UZ0qU55q5Gg/s320/bibimbap.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm having a bibimbap birthday! </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">9. We are having a Korean exchange student stay with us for the weekend and she is going to teach me how to make <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bibimbap">bibimbap</a>! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">10. We're also going to be serving squash pancakes and green onion pancakes. This should be interesting!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">11. My six year old nephew Jon aka Goo, told me he has drawn me a picture for my birthday. I can't wait to see it!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">12. My aunt and uncle from Chicago sent me two birthday pizzas. I have them safely hidden in the freezer, only the Hubs seems to know. I do not want to share. Does that make me a bad person??? Do not tell a soul. </span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GdBPSrmXL4A/TyGBaP0FjLI/AAAAAAAADN8/Faq_KrfbpM0/s1600/savingleonardo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GdBPSrmXL4A/TyGBaP0FjLI/AAAAAAAADN8/Faq_KrfbpM0/s1600/savingleonardo.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">13. I'm reading my seventh book since Christmas. Shablam! Current read - Saving Leonardo. Here's a great quote <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"One of the greatest injustice we do our young people is to ask them to be conservative. Christianity is not conservative, but revolutionary...We must teach them to be revolutionaries, revolutionaries against the status quo." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Click to read this </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3a3939; line-height: 23px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.challies.com/book-reviews/saving-leonardo">review</a> that compelled me to buy this for my Kindle Fire.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3a3939; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"> </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">14. It struck me last night as I was sitting with my monthly writing friends, how immensely blessed I am with a diversity of friendships culled from many parts of my life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">15. My house is neither immaculate nor filthy, right now as I type this, it's right in the middle. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">16. I love my weekly Bible Study and the women I share life with. As I look around the table, I admire their strength, beauty and stories about leading redeemed lives. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xfsV1n_GUSY/TyGDsG1C66I/AAAAAAAADOU/z10_HaI9A6Q/s1600/IMG_0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xfsV1n_GUSY/TyGDsG1C66I/AAAAAAAADOU/z10_HaI9A6Q/s320/IMG_0901.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Bible Study just before the Army/Navy game! <br />Had to bring Nate!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">17. My stepfather said he would go with me for my colonoscopy! I don't have one scheduled but since I took him to his, he said he would accompany me on mine! </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J_IxzvPGDNA/TyGBy-g6ZcI/AAAAAAAADOE/97s5HRaky88/s1600/Russian-Grandmother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J_IxzvPGDNA/TyGBy-g6ZcI/AAAAAAAADOE/97s5HRaky88/s1600/Russian-Grandmother.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">18. I just finished reading<a href="http://wordswithoutborders.org/book-review/meir-shalevs-my-russian-grandmother-and-her-american-vacuum-cleaner"> a book about a vacuum cleaner </a>and it made me cry. I thought about the stories my family's appliances could tell.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">19. When I told my mom that sometimes her birthday cards to me are so sappy, I could become diabetic, she didn't get offended. She laughed and scoffed. We had fun! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">20. Loves it when the pastor speaks a sermon custom made for our family! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">21. And <i>REALLY</i> loves it when we apply the sermon to daily life!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">22. So blessed to have a praying family. We rallied around one of our OS this weekend and prayed with and for him one night. I want to leave this kind of legacy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">23. Realized that I along with the Hubs are raising a first generation Christian family. I didn't see that modeled in my own family and we're super imperfect but still, we're doing it!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P8ShecoeCgw/TyGCwZfmGBI/AAAAAAAADOM/SBaL1n7Ne5o/s1600/IMG_1218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P8ShecoeCgw/TyGCwZfmGBI/AAAAAAAADOM/SBaL1n7Ne5o/s320/IMG_1218.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>A recent creation I made</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">24. My sewing machines and I are getting along. We are enjoying our time together.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">25. I made a dinner this week for a teacher who has cancer. I wasn't sure what to make and brought sesame seed crusted salmon, wilted spinach with a white wine sauce and quinoa pepper salad. She said her favorite thing to eat was fish! I didn't know that! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">On the eve of a big day, it makes sense to have some jollity. Life is a gift. I'd love to hear from you, any of these 25 jump out at you?</span><br />
<br />MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-85334246775550658842012-01-22T18:29:00.002-05:002012-01-22T18:30:08.769-05:00May the words of my mouth be pleasing to you<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wKtgdnWyYNY/TxyXpE22f5I/AAAAAAAADNM/KcbYvtJQXSg/s1600/gradient_logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wKtgdnWyYNY/TxyXpE22f5I/AAAAAAAADNM/KcbYvtJQXSg/s1600/gradient_logo.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>MOPS blessed me so much <br />when my OS were younger!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">On Tuesday, I will be speaking to a local <a href="http://www.MOPS.org/index.php?srctype=MOPSLogo&src=647">MOPS</a> (Mothers of Pre-Schoolers) group. The first time I was scheduled to speak, I had to cancel due to a delay in my oldest <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2011/10/surgery-when-time-is-right-whenever.html">OS's surgery</a>. When the group asked me again, I debated about if it was really the right thing to do, not because of MOPS at all, (I love MOPS)! but because of me.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Have you ever tried to come up with an answer for not doing something? I have, I do, I'm sure I will do it again, unfortunately. Sometimes I've got good reasons and other times the reasons are really just excuses. They are petty and selfish, utterly lacking sound judgment. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UUh778ifMXk/TxyWsGscFtI/AAAAAAAADM0/39HLumen3RM/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UUh778ifMXk/TxyWsGscFtI/AAAAAAAADM0/39HLumen3RM/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>"Wow, I've got a lot going on <br />but I'm not going to let it stop me!"</i></span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y1DKl4bqCx0/TxyXX-Tzp-I/AAAAAAAADNE/pnZNhvImoAQ/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y1DKl4bqCx0/TxyXX-Tzp-I/AAAAAAAADNE/pnZNhvImoAQ/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">David Brainerd, the man</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The great and humble missionary to the North American Indians, David Brainerd was the man. Soon I must share the impact David Brainerd's life and testimony have had on me though he lived in the 1700's. He struggled with depression and suffered greatly. I highly recommend reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Life-Diary-David-Brainerd-ebook/dp/B003PPCSGG/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1327271998&sr=1-1">The Life and Diary of David Brainerd. </a></span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xAtOwgzDf9M/TxyW4dDq-KI/AAAAAAAADM8/F97eHC-NLjw/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xAtOwgzDf9M/TxyW4dDq-KI/AAAAAAAADM8/F97eHC-NLjw/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" style="border: 2px solid #008AB8;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>"Who cares about a little consumption<br />and depression? I've got work to do!" </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Thanks to the trusty stylus harnessed to my Kindle Fire, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I have highlighted many of his spiritual insights. H</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">ere's one fitting of my upcoming message and bespeaks my heart <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"...when God enables me sensibly to find that I have done something for him, this refreshes and animates me, so that I could break through all hardships, undergo any labors, and nothing seems too much either to do..."</span></i>. Yeah, I so get this. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-apPj9_GgOZc/TxyZlopm6BI/AAAAAAAADNU/HeRPfgDsaTo/s1600/IMG_1237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-apPj9_GgOZc/TxyZlopm6BI/AAAAAAAADNU/HeRPfgDsaTo/s320/IMG_1237.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #FF5CAD;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm so diggin' this</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Now I'm wondering, what have you been recently asked to you? Did you do it? What has recently refreshed and animated you? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The message I prepared this week isn't the one I originally intended but I sense a prompting to share it. Let me be your instrument O God, feeble as I am. </span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-35389964648147249012012-01-19T14:44:00.000-05:002012-01-19T19:10:45.113-05:00One of these things just doesn't belong here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AnNeA8ZJ18E/TxhhhXGbG6I/AAAAAAAADMc/ooL94MJ7xkU/s1600/Chopsticks3a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AnNeA8ZJ18E/TxhhhXGbG6I/AAAAAAAADMc/ooL94MJ7xkU/s1600/Chopsticks3a.gif" style="border: 2px solid #707070;" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">My most recent experience with a foreign object trapped in my own body involved a chopstick. I was at our <a href="http://sushithaicary.com/Japanese_and_Thai_Restaurant_Cuisine_Cary_NC/">favorite local sushi restaurant</a> and after removing the paper sheath from the chopsticks, I rubbed the tops of them together to enjoy a smooth eating utensil. This was a really bad idea. As my finger slid along the chopstick ever so gingerly, a tiny wood shaving lodged deep inside my finger where it stayed for THREE STINKING WEEKS!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Despite my best efforts, I couldn't see the sliver nor could I tweeze or soak it out. The Hubs and the OS learned of my sliver woes on a daily, if not hourly basis for nearly a month. Each time my <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2011/10/one-foot-forward-update-on-nate-and.html">West Point OS</a> called home, I gave him a "sliver update." I even thought about going to the doctor. And then one day, in a pain I liken to childbirth, the sliver decided to move elsewhere and poof, it was gone. Huh.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LaKI4OMRkh4/TxhfE8bmqiI/AAAAAAAADMU/qnpFM-nEDgI/s1600/406614_10150530363778393_506598392_8975332_1758917916_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LaKI4OMRkh4/TxhfE8bmqiI/AAAAAAAADMU/qnpFM-nEDgI/s400/406614_10150530363778393_506598392_8975332_1758917916_n.jpg" style="border: 5px solid #707070;" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">oh herro dere, sewing needle! long time, no see!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Many of us have weird </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Foreign_body"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><i>corpus alienum</i></span> </a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">stories. Take, for example my cousin's husband who fell a few days ago. Concerned, Ben went to the doctor and got an x-ray. Ben learned three things that day. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1. He hadn't broken anything</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2. He had a moderate to severe sprain requiring rest</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3. (prepare yourselves, friends)...Ben has a sewing needle in his foot. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Apparently when Ben was a kid, he must have stepped on a sewing needle. It has been living in his heel peacefully for 20+ years.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The post on his facebook has elicited much conversation. I have removed names of people who have commented on Ben's status but I had to show you what his friends and family have said.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">That is my lifelong fear.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326904162" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 11:29am">Yesterday at 11:29am</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881625 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":37}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="unlike_comment_id[5881625]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Unlike this comment" type="submit" value="5881625"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Unlike</span></button> · <a ajaxify="/ajax/browser/dialog/likes/?id=10150530376698393" class="comment_like_button" data-hover="tooltip" href="http://www.facebook.com/browse/likes/?id=10150530376698393" rel="dialog" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-left: -5px; margin-right: -5px; margin-top: -5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Loading..." tooltip-alignh="center" tooltip-uri="/ajax/like/tooltip.php?comment_fbid=10150530376698393&comment_from=639335923"><img alt="" class="cmt_like_icon" src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v1/yw/r/drP8vlvSl_8.gif" style="background-image: url(http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v1/yT/r/Ami4lrB-c2A.png); background-position: -151px -415px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 9px; width: 10px;" /> 1</a></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">that is awesome!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326904311" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 11:31am">Yesterday at 11:31am</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881637 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5881637]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5881637"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">That happened to me when I was 6...stepped on a needle and it broke off...had to have it surgically removed:)</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326904602" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 11:36am">Yesterday at 11:36am</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881659 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5881659]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5881659"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">coolest thing ever. i hope your heel doesn't start hurting during bad weather when you're older.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326904655" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 11:37am">Yesterday at 11:37am</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881666 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5881666]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5881666"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">I had a thorn buried in my head for a couple years that I didn't know about.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326904869" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 11:41am">Yesterday at 11:41am</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881683 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5881683]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5881683"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">that's crazy</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326905625" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 11:53am">Yesterday at 11:53am</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881765 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5881765]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5881765"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">dude thats crazy..u are the talk of my cubicle group lol.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326905648" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 11:54am">Yesterday at 11:54am</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881770 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":37}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="unlike_comment_id[5881770]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Unlike this comment" type="submit" value="5881770"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Unlike</span></button> · <a ajaxify="/ajax/browser/dialog/likes/?id=10150530420063393" class="comment_like_button" data-hover="tooltip" href="http://www.facebook.com/browse/likes/?id=10150530420063393" rel="dialog" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-left: -5px; margin-right: -5px; margin-top: -5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Loading..." tooltip-alignh="center" tooltip-uri="/ajax/like/tooltip.php?comment_fbid=10150530420063393&comment_from=1192605374"><img alt="" class="cmt_like_icon" src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v1/yw/r/drP8vlvSl_8.gif" style="background-image: url(http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v1/yT/r/Ami4lrB-c2A.png); background-position: -151px -415px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 9px; width: 10px;" /> 1</a></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">Ur my new hero. This is pretty crazy.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr data-utime="1326907200" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 12:20pm">Yesterday at 12:20pm</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5881905 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5881905]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5881905"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> <span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">Do you need a hug??</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr class="timestamp livetimestamp" data-utime="1326914444" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 2:20pm">23 hours ago</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5882550 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5882550]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5882550"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">Man, I stepped on a sewing needle when I was in high school and limped around for a while. After a week, or so it felt beter so I went on about life. Three months later a boil appeared on my thigh and when I popped it I saw what looked like a splinter. I pulled a sewing needle out with tweezers.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">I feel like a terrible mother. The sewing needle had to be mine or Grandma's.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><abbr class="timestamp livetimestamp" data-utime="1326944894" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial;" title="Wednesday, January 18, 2012 at 10:48pm">14 hours ago</abbr> · <span class="comment_like_5884760 fsm fwn fcg" data-ft="{"type":36}" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal;"><button class="stat_elem as_link cmnt_like_link" name="like_comment_id[5884760]" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: auto;" title="Like this comment" type="submit" value="5884760"><span class="default_message" style="display: inline;">Like</span></button></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">I can't figure out if my favorite comment is that my uncle had a thorn buried in his head for a couple of years that he didn't know about (which explains a lot!) or if it's Ben's friend who said he stepped on a sewing needle in high school. The guy limped around for a while and after a week or so, he felt better. Then three months later, a boil appeared on his thigh. When he popped it (sorry about the disgusting word picture!), he saw what looked like a splinter. But it wasn't a splinter, instead he pulled a sewing needle out of his thigh with a pair of tweezers.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>At least one of these guys, (all members of </i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>my extended family, btw), currently </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>has a </i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>sewing needle </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>living </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>in his foot. Good times. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">So here's my question. Do you have a strange splinter, chopstick or a sewing needle story? I'd love to hear about it. I'll even sweeten the deal, I will write on a slip of paper the names of each person who comments on this post and next Friday, January 27th, I will draw a winner. I will then send the person a little something I've made <u><i>with a sewing needle</i></u>! I'll announce the winner on January 28th. If you comment on my blog or on my facebook about this post, you'll be in the epic drawing!</span><br />
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</ul>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-51925550816371683602012-01-17T22:45:00.000-05:002012-01-18T07:32:11.554-05:00A little life remembered<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It was just a month ago around 7pm when I was at Whole Foods with the Hubs. Our plans were to get a few things and do some Christmas shopping at the local mall. We were talking with a friend whom we happened to meet coincidentally over by the deli counter and my mobile phone rang. It was my orange hair, freckle face OS calling. I was certain he needed help solving an argument between him and his brother or maybe it was just to remind us to pick him up a grocery item. But neither were the reason for his call. His voice was heavy and I wasn't sure I heard him correctly.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Lilly died."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What did he say? I nearly dropped my phone. I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly and I didn't want to misunderstand. I had just checked her mother's blog that afternoon and although this little baby was medically fragile, there was no evidence that in the span of a few hours, she would be gone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We aren't related to Lilly in a family sense but this little girl had won our collective hearts. Now I'm standing at Whole Foods struggling to understand this news. Suddenly all the Hubs and I wanted to do was speed through the check out line and return home. Our family needed to be together, the errands could wait. We walked out of Whole Foods stunned, the winter air had a quiet chill as we placed our groceries in the car. I could feel a whole community of people grieving over this profound loss. A tiny hero had passed away. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QJutBOT_F04/TxY2W5dckaI/AAAAAAAADL8/kdqIYLmuoeQ/s1600/lily1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QJutBOT_F04/TxY2W5dckaI/AAAAAAAADL8/kdqIYLmuoeQ/s320/lily1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>http://creationsbydawn.net/pi/tutorials/lily.html</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So who was Lilly? Lilly was a beloved baby born with <a href="http://www.trisomy.org/">Trisomy 18.</a> Trisomy 18 (Edwards Syndrome) is a chromosomal disorder. Only 5-10% of children born with T18 live to see their first birthday. Lilly, aka Miss Firecracker because she was born July 4th, belied the medical community. Although T18 is commonly known as being incompatible with life, Lilly wanted nothing to do with that nonsense. For 17 months, Miss Firecracker bore witness to the fact that every life is significant.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5OjOEcCPA9A/TxY213z_LVI/AAAAAAAADME/Ho-LBJHj5dI/s1600/PatrioticHeartsandFlowers-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5OjOEcCPA9A/TxY213z_LVI/AAAAAAAADME/Ho-LBJHj5dI/s1600/PatrioticHeartsandFlowers-L.jpg" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The first time I would meet this precious child and her mother (I already know Lilly's dad) was at the funeral home. Our entire family, including our OS who was home from West Point, loaded in the SUV to pay our respects. I wasn't the only one crying as we walked through the line and I will not tell you which OS also had tears in his eyes. Dressed in a vintage christening gown with her favorite stuffed toy caterpillar near her side, Lilly looked like a tiny doll. It was necessary to share our condolences with Lilly's family. The line grew long as many waited to speak to her parents and offer sympathies and appreciation for loving her so well. Even though it was very emotional, the Hubs, Nate, Aaron, Ike and I had to meet this little girl who had inspired us with her fighting spirit. Lilly gave testimony to a life well lived.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z1ZVF1TXZKY/TxY4y9e4n7I/AAAAAAAADMM/p1vvP3CjBXE/s1600/5009856.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z1ZVF1TXZKY/TxY4y9e4n7I/AAAAAAAADMM/p1vvP3CjBXE/s1600/5009856.gif" style="border: 2px solid #F5003D;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Here is a <a href="http://family.christianbook.com/Christian/Books/product?item_no=5009856&item_code=WW&netp_id=879588&event=ESRCN&view=details#curr">great resource</a> for expectant parents <br />who have been told their pre-born child may not survive.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As we reflected on the year 2011 and marked the many experiences we have shared as a family, Lilly's life and her departure to heaven found its way into the threads of our significant moments. I am pleased to say that Lilly's life mattered to many. Her extraordinary family remains in our prayers and continues to inspire. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Read more about Lilly and her legacy at <a href="http://pray4lilly.blogspot.com/">Pray4Lilly</a>. You will be blessed. Who has recently inspired you? I'd love to hear, please share. </span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-41882496667998714492012-01-10T15:37:00.001-05:002012-01-11T10:44:52.870-05:00And it makes me wonder...<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3BkR5eR7S28/TwyYWmVcQ-I/AAAAAAAADLc/artu-UJWzgM/s1600/IMG_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3BkR5eR7S28/TwyYWmVcQ-I/AAAAAAAADLc/artu-UJWzgM/s320/IMG_1207.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #52A300;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It's true, mothering has allowed me </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">to blossom as a woman.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I hesitated for a moment when my orange hair, freckle face OS asked me a question during dinner last night.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>"Is it ever boring just staying home all day and being a mom?"</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">No sooner had the words parted from those teenage ruby lips when he profusely apologized for his frankness. Truly Ike has said nastier things to me without a hint of remorse (and been punished for it, thank you very much!) but it was obvious he didn't want to hurt my feelings. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I think it's an honest question. But what is the correct answer? Here's what I said.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Sometimes it is boring but that's usually because I'm not doing the things I need to be doing."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It was seven and a half years before traded in my ambitious career goals and embraced the job that had been waiting for me - full-time motherhood.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vq17txCkFbU/TwyXJrJUJUI/AAAAAAAADLM/K74hve-_Fdc/s1600/sc005b40f302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vq17txCkFbU/TwyXJrJUJUI/AAAAAAAADLM/K74hve-_Fdc/s320/sc005b40f302.jpg" style="border: 3px solid #3DB8B8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The day I learned that we were going to be parents! </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Notice the EPT (Early Pregnancy Test) box </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the Hubs is holding! </span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So resolute was I to stay in the business world, that upon learning that I was pregnant with my oldest OS, I ordered a <u>TWO YEAR</u> subscription to Working Mother magazine. I remember simultaneously nursing Nate and attempting to have a contract negotiation on the phone only ten days after his birth. But no one was going to change my opinion...not my husband, not my mom, not even my baby.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It took two more children before I figured out that the Lord had divinely appointed me to be a stay-at-home parent. I can be a bit stubborn but I was relentlessly targeted. The voice in my heart told me repeatedly that I was "perfect for the job" even if I couldn't see my qualifications. My Heavenly Father was changing me from the inside out...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oBJHBP2wZtU/TwyXcbituyI/AAAAAAAADLU/TXpTXpPpndo/s1600/family203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oBJHBP2wZtU/TwyXcbituyI/AAAAAAAADLU/TXpTXpPpndo/s320/family203.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #B87A3D;" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Three dudes in suits</i></span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I sincerely wrestled about what to do with my life. It wasn't an easy decision as I recall sitting on our eggplant colored couch with the Hubs in the winter of 1998. Bless that man as he listened and encouraged me. I questioned, what if full-time motherhood was boring? What if I hated staying home with the guys? What if I was lonely? What if my brain turned to mush? The Hubs reassured me that it was going to be ok. And he was right. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Now 13 years later, my youngest OS was lovingly challenging me to take stock at how it's been going for me...this whole stay-at-home mom gig.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dyy6UtSORXc/TwyZMu74GeI/AAAAAAAADLk/PbGfdlM9J0s/s1600/FxCam_1313891250405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dyy6UtSORXc/TwyZMu74GeI/AAAAAAAADLk/PbGfdlM9J0s/s320/FxCam_1313891250405.jpg" style="border: 3px solid #3DB8B8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When this kid gives this mom flowers "just because" <br />you have to feel good about yourself! ;)</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Although my boys are older, my role as their mom is still important. To have a 21 year old son who while home from West Point brings me a bouquet of flowers "just because" is evidence that I made the right decision. To be appreciated for a pantry filled with food, much of it I prepared, affirms my position in the household. When the world laments for me because I'm a mom of three sons, two of them teenage boys, I scoff at their pettiness for I am among the most blessed. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WsRacIPj7OM/Twyaewz1xLI/AAAAAAAADLs/LlneWirhPKY/s1600/fam503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="201" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WsRacIPj7OM/Twyaewz1xLI/AAAAAAAADLs/LlneWirhPKY/s320/fam503.jpg" style="border: 3px solid #3DB8B8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Three legos and a football champ!</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yes, my sweet orange hair, freckle face OS, sometimes being a mother has lackluster moments but that happens with any job as you will one day discover. Jesus gave me this exalted opportunity to raise three men of honor and faith and I will forever give him praise. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s8nGBN4oUGw/TwyazmmZQMI/AAAAAAAADL0/pWn_vokkF84/s1600/IMG_0737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s8nGBN4oUGw/TwyazmmZQMI/AAAAAAAADL0/pWn_vokkF84/s320/IMG_0737.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #DB94B8;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh and one more thing, I hope I haven't offended anyone, <br />this is my personal story of transformation <br />and I realize other people have different mothering journeys. </span></i></td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">PS. <i>I'd love to hear from you. What interesting questions have your children have posed and how you have answered them? </i></span>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-79079885508945421192012-01-08T21:47:00.000-05:002012-01-08T21:47:55.395-05:00Treats for the Troops<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'm often amused when my extended family extols my baking abilities. Aside from the epic fail of kale cake (which will go down in infamy as the most horrible dessert any human has ever created), my mother lavishes praises on my desserts. My typical response to her exclamations is to casually tell her that the reason I bake so well is this...I'm literate. I can read a recipe, it's really that simple.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">See below for detailed pics of my family's reaction to the kale cake!</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E3Vw1QEOaeM/TwpHvSooDGI/AAAAAAAADKs/PPZiNxctfAU/s1600/225997_10150280238658018_624118017_9418604_7000364_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E3Vw1QEOaeM/TwpHvSooDGI/AAAAAAAADKs/PPZiNxctfAU/s320/225997_10150280238658018_624118017_9418604_7000364_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #52A300;" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NiCNNVWRzx8/TwpHHwd0W9I/AAAAAAAADKc/gMhCOXn9tGU/s1600/223413_10150280275063018_624118017_9418865_6215675_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NiCNNVWRzx8/TwpHHwd0W9I/AAAAAAAADKc/gMhCOXn9tGU/s320/223413_10150280275063018_624118017_9418865_6215675_n.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #52A300;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Disclaimer: These pictures are not <br />representative of my baking abilities, I assure you.</i></span> </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Considering how I was loathe to all things domestic prior to my spiritual conversion to Christianity, it is quite wonderful that I enjoy spending time in the kitchen. It is not drudgery or "beneath" me as I thought previously. My heart is stirred into my sugary creations, especially if the treats are going to someone I care about.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yummers!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Which is why it is a special privilege for me to be involved in West Point Moms Bake. Each month a group of over 130 West Point moms ship baked goods to deployed servicemen and servicewomen overseas. The excitement is contagious as my fellow WP moms (thanks to a private facebook group designed just for us) detail the thoughtful items and care they put into crafting each package. About ten of us moms are given the name and address of one of our heroes and we send a "boodle box" to that Soldier. This means that several packages of home baked treats arrive around the same time allowing these men and women to share the goodies with their unit. Many times my West Point mama friends humble me with their creativity and effort. Despite having busy lives of their own, the ladies of West Point Moms Bake still find time to bake delicious treats AND include other conveniences of home to their assigned Soldier. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N0TB_wCtu6E/TwpM-CPjTAI/AAAAAAAADK8/KGCShl4b4IU/s1600/IMG_20110305_095243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N0TB_wCtu6E/TwpM-CPjTAI/AAAAAAAADK8/KGCShl4b4IU/s320/IMG_20110305_095243.jpg" style="border: 2px solid #996600;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Nate at West Point during our <br />mother/son weekend last year. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I don't want to think about this but soon the day will arrive when my oldest OS is on that list. Upon his graduation from West Point and subsequent training, I must accept that my boy will probably be deployed. Knowing Nate, with his sweet tooth and tender heart, it will mean so much to him to think that others appreciate his service to our country. He will enjoy getting boodle from us but to get treats from others who don't even know him personally will surely encourage him along the way.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In a recent package to my assigned hero, I made tasty and healthy treats for him and included a picture of our family. The Hubs, the middle OS and the orange hair, freckle face OS wrote him individual notes and it was OUR privilege to reach out and offer our support. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Frequently members of West Point Moms Bake will hear back from their Soldiers. They are so appreciative and thankful. We love to share pictures and stories with each other and hear how our packages have lifted spirits. To date, over 500 packages have been sent since September! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">If you know of a deployed Soldier and like this idea, please leave me a message and we'll put that person on our list. If you include a comment on my blog or would rather email me at <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">sewprettyaprons@gmail.com</span></i>, I'll forward your information to my contact person and we'll make it happen. One more thing, don't worry, I promise I won't send kale cake! :)</span><br />
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<br />MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-38608996721638639202012-01-04T14:28:00.001-05:002012-01-05T11:48:07.964-05:003, 2, 1 = the day I wished I was a statistician<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Over Christmas break, I asked the middle OS to run to the store to get me some canned tomatoes. By the time Aaron came home, he had accumulated MUCH more than 32 ounces of canned tomatoes. Read on for details...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zEk3U4b93jM/TwSkUY1oNaI/AAAAAAAADJk/A_ny2G64QOQ/s1600/DSC_1223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zEk3U4b93jM/TwSkUY1oNaI/AAAAAAAADJk/A_ny2G64QOQ/s320/DSC_1223.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #3D3D3D;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Not just a pretty face! </i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We live close to several grocery stores and therefore I assumed Aaron would perform this task lickety-split. My middle bairn has a good track record as my errand boy. If I may brag a moment, Aaron will be a fine husband one day. He not only puts the toilet seat down after using it, this guy can find common food staples and less traditional food items such as hoisin sauce and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kefir">kefir</a> in several nationally known grocery chains!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">However, this recent grocery trip was taking longer than expected and I wondered to myself, "Where is Aaron? Where did he go? I need my canned tomatoes!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And that's when the phone rang. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Aaron: "Hey, Mom."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Me: "Hey...where are you?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Aaron: <big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> "Um, I just got a ticket."</span></big></span><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Me: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"WHAT? What were YOU doing and where are my canned tomatoes?!!!"</span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The middle OS proceeded to explain where and how he got a speeding ticket. The simple trip to the grocery store had morphed into a jaunt to the used bookstore which somehow led to a pricey speeding fine.</span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Upon Aaron's return, the cheerful mood in our otherwise festive home had soured. The Hubs was miffed, Aaron was embarrassed and I was annoyed that I had waited so long for my canned tomatoes.</span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But it gets better (or worse depending on your perspective)...</span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OyAxpiMkUSw/TwSkeTtzugI/AAAAAAAADJw/pt6wy_nfrPI/s1600/IMG_0748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OyAxpiMkUSw/TwSkeTtzugI/AAAAAAAADJw/pt6wy_nfrPI/s320/IMG_0748.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #3D3D3D;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I may be a ginger but I can apparently <br />read road signs better than my West Point brother!"</span></i></td></tr>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We then asked our oldest OS to drop the orange hair, freckle face OS off at basketball practice. He agreed and scuttled his brother into the car. He was gone for no more than 10 minutes-</span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And that's when the phone rang.</span></big><br />
<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Nate: "Hey."</span></big><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Me: "Hey...what's up?"</span><br />
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Nate: <annoying miff=""> "<i>I</i> just got a ticket."</annoying></span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Me: "WHAT? What were YOU doing and where is Isaac?!!!"</span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The oldest OS then proceeded to explain where and how he got an even <i>heftier </i>speeding ticket. The simple trip to school had morphed into a second W-H encounter with law enforcement. Despite the verbal warnings of the younger brother, Nate had overlooked obvious road signs and in the span of less than one hour, two of our three OS had about $600 in associated ticket costs.</span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhoCP2lWlrs/TwSk68gttrI/AAAAAAAADJ8/mmzsMvkbcPs/s1600/DSC_1532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhoCP2lWlrs/TwSk68gttrI/AAAAAAAADJ8/mmzsMvkbcPs/s320/DSC_1532.JPG" style="border: 2px solid #3D3D3D;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Three oliveshoots, two speeding tickets, <br />one day = let's try to not repeat that, guys!</i></span></td></tr>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I've never heard of such a thing! What are the chances of having three oliveshoots who drive (Ike has his learner's permit) and two of them getting speeding tickets on the same day in less than an hour? I'm no statistician but I'd say it's highly unlikely.</span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The OS are handling these issues responsibly and financially independently. They are reaping the consequences of their actions and although I do not find it amusing that they did something wrong, I do think it's funny in a quirky sort of way. According to my calculations, for the price of two speeding tickets, these two guys could have bought me over 400 cans of canned tomatoes!</span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2IY2nSbtJSg/TwSlNMDxXVI/AAAAAAAADKI/XDRPhUZwbG8/s1600/DSC_1520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2IY2nSbtJSg/TwSlNMDxXVI/AAAAAAAADKI/XDRPhUZwbG8/s320/DSC_1520.JPG" style="border: 3px solid #52A300;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We embrace our weirdness!</span></i></td></tr>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'd love to hear about your unusual holiday experiences too. </span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">PS. Here are a few links of our other <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/search/label/asofetida">unusual</a> grocery store encounters (one involving an innocent <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2008/10/trouble-at-trader-joes.html">assault with salt</a>!) if you're interested. </span></big></div>
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<big sigh=""><br /></big><br />
<big sigh=""><br /></big>MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350347085643474067.post-89944009415772441142012-01-02T18:23:00.000-05:002012-01-02T19:12:12.992-05:00A scrappy game of Scrabble<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I am not known for my athletic prowess. Chances are <i>really</i> good that you can out-run, out-lift, out-skate, out-swim, and out-do me in most physical things. Your muscles are bigger, your stride is longer, your endurance is better. You win. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">However, the one thing I am known for, at least in my kin, is my mad Scrabble skills. I can hold my own when it comes to this word-smithing merriment. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5mjSKgbn0K8/TwI6bkg6hTI/AAAAAAAADJA/TMgea6tQjfU/s1600/IMG_1164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5mjSKgbn0K8/TwI6bkg6hTI/AAAAAAAADJA/TMgea6tQjfU/s320/IMG_1164.JPG" style="border: 3px solid #CC3333;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Someone is preparing for the beat-down</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Upon each visit home, my oldest OS challenges me to a game of Scrabble. Days prior to the battle, the insults and affronts begin; nothing is too low brow between mother and son. Similar to Army/Navy football, this game is personal. It's the <a href="http://www.usma.edu/">West Point</a> cadet with a high class ranking (Nate) versus the strong B average Communication and French major from <a href="http://www.carrollu.edu/">Carroll University </a>(um, that's me). We engage in our regular risibility while trash talking and one emerges with bragging rights until the next battle.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">With great tinges of melancholy, this morning my OS and I sat in the living room and we marked the end of Christmas break with a game of Scrabble.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EqcJoMXYY6c/TwI427EChnI/AAAAAAAADIo/qBkGijKodYU/s1600/IMG_1166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EqcJoMXYY6c/TwI427EChnI/AAAAAAAADIo/qBkGijKodYU/s320/IMG_1166.JPG" style="border: 3px solid #CC3333;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You would ululate too if you had four u's</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Highlights of today's game include:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>ululating</i> over four U's - YUCK!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>bursting</i> into song using my best and loudest <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethel_Merman">Ethel Merman</a> impersonation of an <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQouJdvB80U">Ella Fitzgerald classic</a> when Nate made the word MISTY</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>and caving</i> into moments of deep motherly feelings by confessing to my boy mid-play, "Nate, I love you."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yes, I will never tire of his response of sincere mutual affection even if it meant I lost every time (and I didn't), btw. I would always play this game even if he pummeled me (and he didn't) just to spend time with a child I cherish. I love words but I love my boy more and that's saying something. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gSLH3WDZ1H4/TwI__9Ap73I/AAAAAAAADJY/MBddc2em_4E/s1600/mermcolor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="193" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gSLH3WDZ1H4/TwI__9Ap73I/AAAAAAAADJY/MBddc2em_4E/s200/mermcolor.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Ladies and gentlemen, <br />the one, the only Miss Ethel Merman...</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bG2-1Uu1cXk/TwI5PGAViDI/AAAAAAAADI0/DFuKn3QhOLg/s1600/IMG_1171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bG2-1Uu1cXk/TwI5PGAViDI/AAAAAAAADI0/DFuKn3QhOLg/s320/IMG_1171.JPG" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 51, 51); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 3px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 51, 51); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 3px; border-right-color: rgb(204, 51, 51); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 3px; border-top-color: rgb(204, 51, 51); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 3px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Our game board goodness</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Oh yes, I am a <a href="http://myawesomeoliveshoots.blogspot.com/2011/10/one-foot-forward-update-on-nate-and.html">lachrymose</a> mama right now. My favorite Scrabble buddy is going back to WP where he belongs. :( His bags are packed, the game is in the drawer. Tomorrow when the house is empty and all of my OS venture into the places they belong, I will busy myself. My athletic prowess is sorely lacking, the house and the Hubs need attention. It will be ok, I know, I guess, I hope.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thanks Nate for giving your scrawny mom a scrupulous time. Miss you already <3 </span><br />
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<br />MyAwesomeOliveShootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14514414410318081450noreply@blogger.com2