tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89295015413354061442024-03-13T17:15:56.655-07:00Jenn's CoopJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-84312169314717994882012-01-23T10:52:00.000-08:002012-01-23T10:52:48.472-08:00Being<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Laying in bed this morning, in that half awake but can’t open my eyes yet place, I was begging for it to be raining. Straining my ears above the noise of the early morning traffic; I could hear the tires splashing on the wet road, but was it still coming down? Beside the fact that we desperately need the rain – I wanted the rain. I wanted the dark sky, the rain coming down. Because, what I wanted this morning was to curl up in my big chair with a fire and a blanket with a good book. I wanted to curl up in my cave. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So, why the desire for the rain? Somehow, I don’t give myself permission for time in my chair unless I have an excuse - a reason that I’m not doing other things. When the sun is shining, I feel guilty just being.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Just being.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">That is such a difficult concept for me, and I would guess most Americans. We are a society of doers. We base our worth on what we do and have little respect for those we deem lazy or that do things beneath them. Add to this the fact that I am a bottom line person. “Get to the point.” “Why is this important?” These two things combined, make me a doer. Wrapped up in all of this is this nagging question of what is the point of life? Because if I am just being, then I am not doing something that needs to be done for life to matter. God has expectations of me, and I’m not living up to them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But, what if there weren’t expectations? What if being was the point of life? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I picked up The Shack the other night and randomly started reading. (I’ve read it several times before, so I didn’t need the whole story.) Towards the end, there is a conversation between the main character, Mack, and God regarding expectations. The author makes a case for turning it from a noun into a verb - from expectations to expectancy. What if God doesn’t have expectations of us, but has expectancy of being with us? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Expectations are the cause of much strife in life and in relationships. We set up expectations and no one can really fulfill them, instead of having expectancy of being with that person. My kids don’t need to do anything for me to love them. I don’t have any expectations of what our time together should look like, or how they should act for me to love them more or be happy with them. I just want to be with them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Maybe that is what God wants from me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Maybe it doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do, what I accomplish, what I don’t…he just wants me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-50664649804197318552011-12-17T22:59:00.001-08:002011-12-17T22:59:58.189-08:00thankfulnew music
little boys breathing next to me
clean sheets
cold nights to snuggle
learning new things
reading
creating
learning to really see
forgiveness
hope
gingerbread houses and margaritasJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-88369065708731082172011-07-07T05:48:00.000-07:002011-07-07T05:48:00.520-07:00beauty everyday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIe6VpDnTwowdbkOhyphenhyphenXnRURjrt4TgBrblJCEq0rYWv5ntBwwF3FoEdqS7mEKYxNHxLs7_jMkQVaEIn7_n3gajAfYDb8Gk5CiZ116n-ujsvKK5hcsh_uvCF1DOt0PQmUhGYUr8aWk380lD/s1600/DSC07920.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626344411082078338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIe6VpDnTwowdbkOhyphenhyphenXnRURjrt4TgBrblJCEq0rYWv5ntBwwF3FoEdqS7mEKYxNHxLs7_jMkQVaEIn7_n3gajAfYDb8Gk5CiZ116n-ujsvKK5hcsh_uvCF1DOt0PQmUhGYUr8aWk380lD/s320/DSC07920.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYaEEkosY-UZTY17Dz9s-pgA6IZSw5pfwr0s6_Wq4RYnyxkXprG_xEnEG2YOFx5sU1T_0Z2IkHzMX79Fcb30oJTypin2mm3GjcjPF_m9u6q4kx-8dO8MFQ9VaJTPpGwUXe2CGEbhE0nOj/s1600/DSC07911.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626344408212849154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYaEEkosY-UZTY17Dz9s-pgA6IZSw5pfwr0s6_Wq4RYnyxkXprG_xEnEG2YOFx5sU1T_0Z2IkHzMX79Fcb30oJTypin2mm3GjcjPF_m9u6q4kx-8dO8MFQ9VaJTPpGwUXe2CGEbhE0nOj/s320/DSC07911.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-3622682845691004332011-07-04T20:39:00.000-07:002011-07-06T13:38:36.362-07:00summer fun<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">took the boys to san francisco for the weekend</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">exploratorium... </span><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625710897464982354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwRJUxsSub9C6Jv4P2rsFTAqy0OQMtO2GapPuBlZvAVShMTRYLApoy1fWf5ivBfTeJihNXasXhymqthUiDyLLMk387CBw2kDCtqWlbsIlZfkv-JzDpe1NVdW0OV1X_IvxyyAbYKP2oDtN/s320/DSC08137.JPG" /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">of course, the trees outside the exploratorium...<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625710893946278642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDr1sd9y3mJ3JI7Ktk0DkwEV-is0RQ5HBL__qLYf9spWluo1lEoChy_O4RKhb_3LHJDgc1jRLYaMVxKEtLv1YL762QPERuSvCSaSY87FsJsd-mtiae0NS9lktUic7zv-kTBWzi8jO927hO/s320/DSC08146.JPG" /></span> <br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">first train...<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625709170784564226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWXCjAlgxPvvii7r7krOpgmHDoUE0xYZebyC3xRxe2ycYIPBTIkJ_2w5aWUhUN4vZOVglrzll86TZFd8GNRkgM3l_9o2gv1126-7emkxe1f3lqzUNmZiro6r2K2EaORyvcWpK1Kg_pLB3/s320/DSC07964.JPG" /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">first bus...</span></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUN7-uRgPqJeeWqOj-Ijb7zdy1xSqyiNEo9Po4eLwEBIs5JJpY91IFqQEn-lFHkJq7QiKlt4atcQfXOBeFeHVxmO67CCjArNJXEAkU-StyhULTuP0eSLJLqZbgY4FlUWOeKB_33AbfZNt/s1600/DSC08054.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625709192126530258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUN7-uRgPqJeeWqOj-Ijb7zdy1xSqyiNEo9Po4eLwEBIs5JJpY91IFqQEn-lFHkJq7QiKlt4atcQfXOBeFeHVxmO67CCjArNJXEAkU-StyhULTuP0eSLJLqZbgY4FlUWOeKB_33AbfZNt/s320/DSC08054.JPG" /></span></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDfMrRwfl_bfw392pCJcTeVR4nd-3pu4ChDOlrnr6TmIIg0fJYt44D7CVxpN-fOfsJxWrhpBBmSj0ONY4U2Xc_9bRAFJW_45sdySeCJTqRcHlFKT-QpypO2KC6jYFxEwaU5upIb4JAJi1/s1600/DSC07986.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625709182824639154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDfMrRwfl_bfw392pCJcTeVR4nd-3pu4ChDOlrnr6TmIIg0fJYt44D7CVxpN-fOfsJxWrhpBBmSj0ONY4U2Xc_9bRAFJW_45sdySeCJTqRcHlFKT-QpypO2KC6jYFxEwaU5upIb4JAJi1/s320/DSC07986.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> first chinatown...<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625709176035465490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDRQluUDTvL31faj2BOrdTOYXy4STkQHQ4wHCCHFNb454wLWgcMTjqJrWPHD2EGSAAeb9CcHhvaop4kcggVzCbwizBEaSdlxbvtZM5J0X1zvNYkBpPHW8Vh2KSlI-eEA-dbKNIsVGxt2X/s320/DSC07968.JPG" /><br />first dim sum... (ok, didn't get a good picture until they descimated the food!)<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BMh-XoKIO0dUuxAbj_bGxuP2Kdlhjx7LKVhTXobiUk-kscSPcr7JqJmgK4u0Lw-WLBUD7aoXgesSsZJXolUzxMWMQIcLCSHLqmAAc7fNZI7oxsRpVbaO3l8_Hh0y3h5FUm-e2THHr9Xa/s1600/DSC07970.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625709179922104690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BMh-XoKIO0dUuxAbj_bGxuP2Kdlhjx7LKVhTXobiUk-kscSPcr7JqJmgK4u0Lw-WLBUD7aoXgesSsZJXolUzxMWMQIcLCSHLqmAAc7fNZI7oxsRpVbaO3l8_Hh0y3h5FUm-e2THHr9Xa/s320/DSC07970.JPG" /></span></a></div></div></div><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">cable cars, fisherman's wharf, lots of walking and we had a blast!</span></p></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-73073149661883709572011-01-25T15:12:00.000-08:002011-01-27T09:04:37.626-08:00Letting Go<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566910218447902642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-haYHO7XzmUqo6BDbnvl68Hem2QYT3cbpcNJ1LyRpo2jJ4zHRfeGXKqFakqxrDPQP8kzhvjBoSDuP3wI5nRw1zlWg9ipmdEwZGC13-29fm6ziYEZpJmU-6G40fcn5mbWm8YJH6tJO1THt/s320/DSC06929.JPG" /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have been in a season of loss for a while now. I keep asking God when is this going to be over?! But there hasn't been an answer yet. Letting go of people, babies, relationships, behaviors and dreams. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A dear friend told me that I'm not the same person he knew years ago. Part of me wanted to rejoice and say thank you God! And part of me wanted to grieve, because the things that have changed me and shaped me have not been fun or enjoyable or wanted and seriously wouldn't wish them on anyone. I am changed. For the better? I hope so. But only God can answer that one.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I do know that God is using to speak into other's lives. Other's that have landed on a similar path.<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This season of loss is still here. I am currently saying goodbye to my house. Even writing that sentence is hard and the lump in my throat is growing every second. This is MY house. This is the house I came to after burying a baby. This is the house I came home to with Max in my arms. This is the house my boys learned to walk in. climb in and on top of. I have touched every part of this house and yard and made it mine. Even tearing out bathrooms with my own hands and rebuilding. God and I re-built my life here.<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not all of the memories here are good, but it's where our life happened. I've started going through the cabinets. Getting things ready for a garage sale. Started packing. Blessing others with things. This is all just stuff, right?<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, if this is all just stuff, why is there this ache in my heart? Why are tears streaming down my face? Tears that I try to hide from the boys. Tears that burn my cheeks? Tears that I'm all too familiar with. This is the best thing for us, I tell them. So, why does it hurt so much?<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sometimes dreams are the hardest to lose. How do you grieve your dreams? No one can see them. There is nothing to point to. There are no hallmark cards. But they linger on. The loss of dreams is the loss of hope. And that is not what God is about. He brings hope.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566910208526284802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMYbpBvfTy2pmBACVUwaFTz_A5pS635tGAPy2jnktYpuWvBOKBrmwHhibdQJ-RoXOgvZ7A7pCrksitXs31ODKnctQiZvp0kftRYbtC5CMVVx661APjXQM2IsMy2QsOPflJAbR63Zmr3sWH/s320/DSC06891.JPG" /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So here I am at the brink of something new. And scary. And unknown. A time for new dreams to be made. A time for giving my dreams to God and saying, "here you go." I wonder what you are going to do with these. But here they are. </span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div><br />I read a fabulous post the other day about turning our worries into wonder. Instead of thinking "what if...." turn it into "I wonder how God is going to..."<br /></div><div>I wonder how God is going heal my heart.<br /></div><div>I wonder how God is going redeem my dreams.<br /></div><div>I wonder who he is going to bring into my life. </div><div></div><br /><div>I wonder where he is leading me. </div><div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566911808411108658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwFR32Lih8F6xK8xN6eU3GPJK7P7b3Zik3g1MPcvcR28yDWb3I598UTsROhqKjaQL-F-IxJFFalT0k5JdC6LwB_DANzeGmNWHCnLWn0dvjKvbO6VgZOerK3iy-naVkWEi9MZydJdhPUMv/s320/DSC06910.JPG" /></div><div>He is so much bigger than me; and thank God he is!! He is bigger than anything I can do to mess things up.<br /><br />"I will restore to you the years that the locusts have eaten." Joel 2:25</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-50519545764019931692011-01-20T10:28:00.000-08:002011-01-20T10:44:50.470-08:00Words<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZE0KY96ArFaervP0wnZQMmeIjsqYyUNebBD7P6lKQ8SmGJ7peNOHbMgrhyphenhyphenKUIReLdof0IjOB0eI-UWE-tU9aa4dF6mcf8FebljbeKiwUcpLHUA3NAUeGV7PRINB6tXbBfFxGXZVChqMV/s1600/DSC07284.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564340370627652322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZE0KY96ArFaervP0wnZQMmeIjsqYyUNebBD7P6lKQ8SmGJ7peNOHbMgrhyphenhyphenKUIReLdof0IjOB0eI-UWE-tU9aa4dF6mcf8FebljbeKiwUcpLHUA3NAUeGV7PRINB6tXbBfFxGXZVChqMV/s320/DSC07284.JPG" /></a> <div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Words have power. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Words tear down or lift up. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Words are art. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Words created the universe. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Words are healing.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In the beginning was the Word.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">For awhile I have been thinking about this - words, writing, this blog. Why did I start it? Because it was a fad and everyone else was doing it? To keep in touch with family? Because I love to write? Because I have to write even if it is never published? </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I write all day. Mostly in my head. And wow, I write really good stuff in there! By the time I make it to a pencil or the computer, most of the best stuff is gone...<br /><br />But, I stopped. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I told myself that part of that was grief. I didn’t want to come back and write about losing another baby. I didn’t want to write about the pain. The hate. The ache. The stolen dreams.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />However, that is not really true. I write to deal with life. With grief. It helps me process. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The honest answer to why I stopped writing, was that no one was reading. I wanted someone to like me. I wanted someone to approve. Someone to tell me it was good. but, what if writing itself is the point? </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What if writing is an act of worship? What if creating whether it is writing, painting, parenting, gardening is a gift and a responsibility from God? What if no one sees? No one notices? Doesn’t it still matter? It is in the quiet of our hearts and minds and souls that God works. usually without anyone seeing. We hope people notice, but that is not the point.<br />The point is worship. The point is that this is who I am. </span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564340360771014162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxRVSa7DtJ1xTafdJjp9e1o4Bkr8U1n499bOrAZKg0mDKMOKE2lfGtxA_FEzfcJiBCSwF3Y150YKIwP1qz1ngqGbU6GFjbFcz7hU8BIhq8e25ChvfSTjRwUjsXs0DinIgvErcPGu98wE4y/s320/DSC07120.JPG" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I create to heal. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I create because I can’t help myself. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I create because I love beauty. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I create because God created me to.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, I will continue to write. To share. To cry. To laugh. Because readers and followers aren’t the point. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Creating is. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What this looks likes going forward? Who knows? I do know that it will be from my heart. </span></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-6594375488575251732010-09-09T15:18:00.000-07:002010-09-09T15:44:39.358-07:00Plans...and News<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have been a single mom for the past six years...and for any of you counting, yes, my baby is six years old. He went into first grade this year. sniff, sniff.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515046097597682898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMYp73fjbDY8vKnFD9hAj2ji0Omq8Y5cZrrNHc0LCw-3bXjQX9AAMWi3ZkG8PFPua8bk_d8YijAuH-npGgwtlglrbXUP6chPCWj6uXaVFFvotNVsLcXaHvLrNoPX4eGJaLvGbNJHMuhtI/s320/DSC06629-2.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I knew this was coming and have been planning for this day for years. You see, as a single mom, almost every decision I have made has revolved around that date - when I went back to graduate school, when I graduated, what jobs I have taken. Because not only would I be able to work full time and not worry about day care (worry as in I HATE it), but my alimony also ended on that date. So being able to support us was pretty high on my list of priorities...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Max started first grade on a Monday...and on Tuesday I got a baby.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I wasn't looking for one. I wasn't on a list. But a young family member made a completely selfless and courageous <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">decision</span> to offer her little girl a better life...</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What do you say when someone puts a baby in your arms?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515046105227553746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobaZ5HglY-lDMtaGhSWkFbjw2em-SUEIfbqZrI2EwgJdp7_0287drmEICmfWosC3-tIxH9QVSYerjLbZChoBv8q1Z_QPMDvGozzsZCJ9I3zHsRD8JTYuzLvU2mJ3j7MCrD11_a9Na-NAj/s320/IMG_3170.JPG" /><br />Yes, I took the baby. I'm scared. For lots of reasons and not the least of them being whether or not the mom will change her mind. I'm not sure I could handle losing another daughter.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My sister and her kids live with me because she is fighting breast cancer. After chemo and radiation for almost a year, she had her other mastectomy last week and is starting to move around better, but she still has several surgeries and a lot of recovery time. She will need a job. She's scared.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm very scared. And the bottom line is that I'm really afraid to trust God. The week before the baby, the bank denied our modification, so we will have to find a new place to live soon.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">If all of this sounds like I'm looking for pity, I'm not. Life happens to everyone, I hear a lot of it everyday! But, sometimes you just need to say it all, so someone can witness that you are struggling.</span><br /><br />I know that God is bigger than all of our circumstances and I trust him more now than I have in years...but I feel it is still leap years away from where I want my relationship to be with him. Anyone have any suggestions?<br /><br />And a final, completely unrelated note, I have no idea where I want to take this blog!<br /></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-79650152988772505292010-08-19T15:50:00.000-07:002010-08-19T15:53:16.852-07:00Blessings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQSAKbt2BgdpQTIbeQly2BZT6KmYS5uHfIY-D2XLnn6_IgKYCxsZfznpyJSlwqdGb8s0DUBx5mNpfH3ZvfGMgdWbPjwF91mrDmPtNCcPq8Y5K__ESpTcXJAfVBwBSoU7YnJKugGimpWUr/s1600/IMG_1053.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507257692429342210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQSAKbt2BgdpQTIbeQly2BZT6KmYS5uHfIY-D2XLnn6_IgKYCxsZfznpyJSlwqdGb8s0DUBx5mNpfH3ZvfGMgdWbPjwF91mrDmPtNCcPq8Y5K__ESpTcXJAfVBwBSoU7YnJKugGimpWUr/s320/IMG_1053.JPG" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hanging out on the walkway to my front door...</span></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-45514841895365233312010-08-18T20:19:00.001-07:002010-08-18T20:28:36.053-07:00Sand Crabs, Sea Glass and Sand Castles<div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A foggy day on the beach was perfect for taking pictures!</span></div><div> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506955847578776338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7ZzUZwGI5L2x7_axmJpQ5dqkxeb9_of6oxb7A5cxMJGE70gB6_kv9mizHolYwYewXvfyuONMrSWFVLgeISsYGQsVexUgunpnU9g0nadQIkFMsNcQCFDRl4y_66KlPVf3tKy6edmlVQQh/s320/DSC06746.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506955828530494930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaGqT0s0Npn6TzkC3ZjZQwP3eav3YgpgcG43k0kA3jzDeYuT7cJxHGjYfP1eOm1DyPLVm7_FzxuEk6HQTyh37oqcbdUTd2PoJJ7X5jomined_C32E7TKdlzCRsnyBHfx5eJuO7_CLoR4H/s320/DSC06759-2.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9egMXILeNHPnt1mz0ixVM9Q7ssgbx4_MhuGtY9m7i6lYjmAgtbbQSU9bfJ_V8JlFylVFTWC9hEQN6AiGROcv5ODIIwhJWJ3Zgf-VYadI-R6JYF5j9ZL5WJMX4aVtq3s6QCLbgE0-fa18J/s1600/DSC06802.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506956100410935474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9egMXILeNHPnt1mz0ixVM9Q7ssgbx4_MhuGtY9m7i6lYjmAgtbbQSU9bfJ_V8JlFylVFTWC9hEQN6AiGROcv5ODIIwhJWJ3Zgf-VYadI-R6JYF5j9ZL5WJMX4aVtq3s6QCLbgE0-fa18J/s320/DSC06802.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHG5ceQcBzsCCZTLzuUbH3Smk9Y2fqRdie3oSRzt9WvsoKsaS5GfSF-qKi1_1MPbFM5DjVGfsFWTZT8Socl74_vLLJPuFdnEZIB14OyctydoI_g76Fhf5cdkiVcqb2TgLo1_wZXoxMc3mG/s1600/DSC06803-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506956093041314418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHG5ceQcBzsCCZTLzuUbH3Smk9Y2fqRdie3oSRzt9WvsoKsaS5GfSF-qKi1_1MPbFM5DjVGfsFWTZT8Socl74_vLLJPuFdnEZIB14OyctydoI_g76Fhf5cdkiVcqb2TgLo1_wZXoxMc3mG/s320/DSC06803-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5y0c_Bplz7Ns_2RVW59S3Zx4bzRXK8luSU7a5JvNfAwoRxfhZvcAaB7BYYGlAgPkClwDTQsXy7870TM-JlUCgx2VFIdXGFAC2uMB1kJ9MUPeZ-E92yRvN-X6lAGq6WzeyhNVlFrEfxzn/s1600/DSC06799-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506956088176249298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5y0c_Bplz7Ns_2RVW59S3Zx4bzRXK8luSU7a5JvNfAwoRxfhZvcAaB7BYYGlAgPkClwDTQsXy7870TM-JlUCgx2VFIdXGFAC2uMB1kJ9MUPeZ-E92yRvN-X6lAGq6WzeyhNVlFrEfxzn/s320/DSC06799-2.jpg" /></a> </div><div><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqe1hMdyzJxTNnMvefdTazuixzTupHGLV-8t4TTKF7Z0KGFhXwfR5wMYEYfji74m8AIT715kHGfqXXh3oHab1AeTJy4XgMGf4BcmGHpQHOV2KrFkxzKkDGP-A9yTwRaZx9QcADcAE9Jpz-/s1600/DSC06757-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506955849693438994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqe1hMdyzJxTNnMvefdTazuixzTupHGLV-8t4TTKF7Z0KGFhXwfR5wMYEYfji74m8AIT715kHGfqXXh3oHab1AeTJy4XgMGf4BcmGHpQHOV2KrFkxzKkDGP-A9yTwRaZx9QcADcAE9Jpz-/s320/DSC06757-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6DxPFH9ytyJbsgpbhx_OZHn-Opd5GRs2HxxwNB5uvH_4rILqSPf5Muy__l-BkB8vzsALBhONXEDulxU_VRQ0HQgPnezkzMWOlCxErTDAj-2mR0ZaYAdjhf0I4kyyeVPBANjqN_O4GceK/s1600/DSC06781-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506955840334384962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6DxPFH9ytyJbsgpbhx_OZHn-Opd5GRs2HxxwNB5uvH_4rILqSPf5Muy__l-BkB8vzsALBhONXEDulxU_VRQ0HQgPnezkzMWOlCxErTDAj-2mR0ZaYAdjhf0I4kyyeVPBANjqN_O4GceK/s320/DSC06781-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ3kJh5Zwd6g1AhO85Rqe4ShpGTUA3GXeRHLO3o2PSfZTAQ6jvqrQXM9IphfNTQ_cIn41U6QletkOc1_GJqLZ9Q9hq3ofKI0-o9CAhDL3sC9SXGALTdW73lqv-g6RDce-yp-Vi1ffp0GCQ/s1600/DSC06755.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506955832928587506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ3kJh5Zwd6g1AhO85Rqe4ShpGTUA3GXeRHLO3o2PSfZTAQ6jvqrQXM9IphfNTQ_cIn41U6QletkOc1_GJqLZ9Q9hq3ofKI0-o9CAhDL3sC9SXGALTdW73lqv-g6RDce-yp-Vi1ffp0GCQ/s320/DSC06755.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have been looking for sea glass for years, with no luck. However, this day - I found some! It was a wonderful, welcome blessing.</span><br /><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-2309791265723529442010-08-16T09:44:00.000-07:002010-08-16T09:51:06.468-07:00Last Days of Summer<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzpew-J_9TuQk6xxdCAMdk4iq8161LmsnZhIZIRjsGxHjgOTusgrGov0x3X2-CCaC6MmPSZhaWX-pLDPzg6SedW6Qhj1wn_TzsX5KKwldfzd1IUnp1cUFNqui8eJ361fpK5EGbb6TtMG8L/s1600/DSC06657-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506050881777945474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzpew-J_9TuQk6xxdCAMdk4iq8161LmsnZhIZIRjsGxHjgOTusgrGov0x3X2-CCaC6MmPSZhaWX-pLDPzg6SedW6Qhj1wn_TzsX5KKwldfzd1IUnp1cUFNqui8eJ361fpK5EGbb6TtMG8L/s320/DSC06657-2.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6QkLdOH8I5j0TjYgPnw0jdQvt8OlCO17NG9dyGoZ9CBRpQuOG7s3k5-MTP_zmB5LhC0_s5kdXUkuNrAyYJ1bKOHZmrJSQZ4KqfuAuEUO97iJ-IIo5yPLTUD_s3k5ZYFxMk1Dk3Se04MY/s1600/DSC06629-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506050852682003106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6QkLdOH8I5j0TjYgPnw0jdQvt8OlCO17NG9dyGoZ9CBRpQuOG7s3k5-MTP_zmB5LhC0_s5kdXUkuNrAyYJ1bKOHZmrJSQZ4KqfuAuEUO97iJ-IIo5yPLTUD_s3k5ZYFxMk1Dk3Se04MY/s320/DSC06629-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4IbVMXBeu5fZVST8vWnFHDcV6Y0x5pb9wpehq4YLnaCmihz2M3ECGu6QMtyrwIFWgj5LuYYxh8_Ykwl-5Gqyt1ZKlb-TwY4GfhApvnk-IGnyEbKnLDA2TFwpLkkA-oUDrQOBuHfKvlsB/s1600/DSC06586-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506050851980964754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4IbVMXBeu5fZVST8vWnFHDcV6Y0x5pb9wpehq4YLnaCmihz2M3ECGu6QMtyrwIFWgj5LuYYxh8_Ykwl-5Gqyt1ZKlb-TwY4GfhApvnk-IGnyEbKnLDA2TFwpLkkA-oUDrQOBuHfKvlsB/s320/DSC06586-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We are down to the last week of summer vacation here, and I have to say I am sad to see them go back to school. I know a lot of parents can't wait to get back to the routine and structure of school days, not to mention that the kids are occupied most of the day! But, I like my kids with me. I love watching them explore and create and seeing their little minds expand.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We went to my parents last week and they spent the entire time outside. Riding bikes. On lizard hunts. Exploring. Climbing trees. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Occasionally</span>, posing for mom and the camera. But they never asked to even turn on the TV. </span></div><div> </div></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-55519577973653002512010-07-18T12:21:00.000-07:002010-07-18T12:43:17.849-07:00Blog Hiatus<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You may have noticed that I haven't been writing much...Summer is here in full swing and with some very active boys living under the same roof as me, we are pretty busy. Not to mention that I've had jury duty, a nasty ear infection that laid me out for a solid week, vacation Bible school, and I got a new job!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As I was reading my previous posts to see what I had been talking about, I realized that my dreaming post was a little depressing. I didn't mean it to be, and in fact I do have a lot of dreams - just not the huge, life culminating in one moment type of dreams like climbing Everest. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My dreams are more of the everyday, living life variety. I think that these dreams are sometimes harder to sustain over the long run, because they are not <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">necessarily</span> recognized as dreams. The day in and day out of becoming a better person, a better mother. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Becoming the person God created me to be. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Using my creativity. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Learning to love with my whole heart. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Making a beautiful, peaceful home. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Training my boys to become strong, men of God with integrity. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Raising chickens. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Growing food. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Eating wonderful homemade meals. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Loving my children. Laughing everyday. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Bringing joy to my life and my kids lives. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Deepening my friendships and developing new, creative and enduring relationships. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Opening myself to possibility of finding someone else to share my life with. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Completely giving my life over to God. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Resting in His peace.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Keeping my house clean for more than 15 minutes. (Okay, this may be a pipe dream until the boys are say 30...)</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Selling my creations of furniture, paintings, crafts....inspiration of the day.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In other words, I have LOTS of dreams. Some big. Some small. Some not yet spoken. Some I'm not even aware of yet. But, it's important to dream. It's important for my soul. It's important for my daily <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">existence</span>. Even though sometimes the dreaming process might be a little scary - it's important to dream dreams. If I only allow myself to hope for things that I can easily accomplish, where is the mystery, excitement, striving? Hope is critical for my survival.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." - <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Isaiah</span> 40:31</span></em></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-64617287505646447842010-07-18T12:14:00.000-07:002010-07-18T12:18:11.804-07:00Beach Dreaming<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmILpZm7MiMTfvZnEy_redQJHNqqpQo88_DsjfswB1eWA6IPPWFYZ4X-p_UdzUP91elhhd6eIwny859TrcqfjRX5Dq-Cc8ZsE-pYLA1szoNKUvjUnM8KbpIXAqfRRgvDY-P90B4zaTrwL/s1600/summer+2005+074.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495327453274202530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmILpZm7MiMTfvZnEy_redQJHNqqpQo88_DsjfswB1eWA6IPPWFYZ4X-p_UdzUP91elhhd6eIwny859TrcqfjRX5Dq-Cc8ZsE-pYLA1szoNKUvjUnM8KbpIXAqfRRgvDY-P90B4zaTrwL/s320/summer+2005+074.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Bpkn0fYZB2byAgOt9OePjV6PKPZQOSAB6563AeI96j8fs-eDShcUwthZxpzBQq3Zs5CxHXA5B7MJLYiXVb97bvC6nZMHNc1smIWIQnWzCKhPcXUhlwnSQ93MiLzhlk3G0EiGHaI9Y8d9/s1600/summer+2005+072.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495327445535799074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Bpkn0fYZB2byAgOt9OePjV6PKPZQOSAB6563AeI96j8fs-eDShcUwthZxpzBQq3Zs5CxHXA5B7MJLYiXVb97bvC6nZMHNc1smIWIQnWzCKhPcXUhlwnSQ93MiLzhlk3G0EiGHaI9Y8d9/s320/summer+2005+072.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It's been over 105 degrees for the past week and right now I'm dreaming of being at the beach with the boys!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I found these pictures when they were little...I can't believe how fast they have grown up.</span></div><div> </div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-57732007626380720802010-07-06T10:18:00.000-07:002010-07-06T10:22:40.388-07:004th of July<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVAZaqV0f6Ui5qU6lN1_tp_FgPPNG15syWgCaGmSoddceGqmk0QcNZbvPz7ViNY0JqPebWZWVXecehcyy9Va8ARqiNMeZiVZ6q5jVTTPeJW8CEtpIhTz3DzBRAG26WzdSsIrCN2uMWj8kJ/s1600/DSC06434.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490844585014913250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVAZaqV0f6Ui5qU6lN1_tp_FgPPNG15syWgCaGmSoddceGqmk0QcNZbvPz7ViNY0JqPebWZWVXecehcyy9Va8ARqiNMeZiVZ6q5jVTTPeJW8CEtpIhTz3DzBRAG26WzdSsIrCN2uMWj8kJ/s320/DSC06434.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSdx3FgD3eofpzaSqLaFu4v-fuMKS25Sl9oEzOuBMq1o4KyT5nCDrjHUktzy92ePS8oJj9zMjQkpmzVUSuuUbh7-BQtsPF6X9aP5y9aLolCcMj5FFq4yz3Q3DlHrThNYJxPiQQdMYPqwE/s1600/DSC06433.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490844577417314754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSdx3FgD3eofpzaSqLaFu4v-fuMKS25Sl9oEzOuBMq1o4KyT5nCDrjHUktzy92ePS8oJj9zMjQkpmzVUSuuUbh7-BQtsPF6X9aP5y9aLolCcMj5FFq4yz3Q3DlHrThNYJxPiQQdMYPqwE/s320/DSC06433.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_wp930vCLjjqdIlBIEbePPAJz9oYo9Pu6myq5W0YgLTo9nY0icabXmM4ifJyEYwjTUjf50uiSx-XF58OmyvbeGFpiFwhvD0xWG9faXdrcPT6WrhN6cxOM4OL1bVErEQRI3qW5G1NTSf0/s1600/DSC06382.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490844572004458450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_wp930vCLjjqdIlBIEbePPAJz9oYo9Pu6myq5W0YgLTo9nY0icabXmM4ifJyEYwjTUjf50uiSx-XF58OmyvbeGFpiFwhvD0xWG9faXdrcPT6WrhN6cxOM4OL1bVErEQRI3qW5G1NTSf0/s320/DSC06382.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tSC1_Df5Yss1VcsO-0hIpsjv1oAf3MbOt2PAN-mcxFpxPHHOXhktNHYEAwhgflXsiNI_3oijZd-mBVcN91lgEK_j9XVyBUItL7IlciWla-Ww4xfzfKn3ls1vChWNownw4-oqeM9HD8Pd/s1600/DSC06367.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490844567612616562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tSC1_Df5Yss1VcsO-0hIpsjv1oAf3MbOt2PAN-mcxFpxPHHOXhktNHYEAwhgflXsiNI_3oijZd-mBVcN91lgEK_j9XVyBUItL7IlciWla-Ww4xfzfKn3ls1vChWNownw4-oqeM9HD8Pd/s320/DSC06367.JPG" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th!</span></div><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-85227357822217723932010-05-13T05:15:00.000-07:002010-05-13T05:15:00.238-07:00Dreams<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I feel like I have lost the power of dreams. When faced the question of:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"><em>“What would I do, if I knew I could not fail?”</em></span> </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I don’t have a response. I have no idea! </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Have I lost the power of dreams? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Or have I just been too afraid to dream in the first place?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What would you do if you knew you could not fail?</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-54090353826425203902010-05-12T05:13:00.000-07:002010-05-12T05:13:00.219-07:00Wordless Wednesday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDQbxdmwYk_lN3nSoYnQIEHi0HNMvRjSnzn-VOnlaa1fRFm_ghsJiZyao0Va_aVa4PPiJxCZTH7m6POQ6OmhoxJkQuxRK6G67oEl_rSkH9rMQxZozuEgeALJfA_PyTcpU9s2IPUO2cDNK/s1600/DSC05912.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470092952264739842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDQbxdmwYk_lN3nSoYnQIEHi0HNMvRjSnzn-VOnlaa1fRFm_ghsJiZyao0Va_aVa4PPiJxCZTH7m6POQ6OmhoxJkQuxRK6G67oEl_rSkH9rMQxZozuEgeALJfA_PyTcpU9s2IPUO2cDNK/s320/DSC05912.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb8EERTvZO3egIQJHzI96fGS74_sYANNXzBPj370HxoA5Rykxa_XciSzbAGHenJJ1wHyfL1o00i7SUsBq_HaMCiPQqJGJXQgCvKhHyx58NjX3OqbTHd4wZZKPdDjHJbUIMc5Aojwrn4shW/s1600/DSC05878.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470092941279759010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb8EERTvZO3egIQJHzI96fGS74_sYANNXzBPj370HxoA5Rykxa_XciSzbAGHenJJ1wHyfL1o00i7SUsBq_HaMCiPQqJGJXQgCvKhHyx58NjX3OqbTHd4wZZKPdDjHJbUIMc5Aojwrn4shW/s320/DSC05878.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-57786500211856393282010-05-11T11:05:00.000-07:002010-05-11T11:06:25.545-07:00Quote of the Day<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"It is easy to be brave from a safe distance." </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">- Aesop</span></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-58070866126514031392010-05-03T06:04:00.000-07:002010-05-03T06:04:00.506-07:00Photos of the Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1MzHIhcUUo7MyZVIm4fJyl5s2czckPKUhT5ceVAtrHP1b4Yq8JGzC33qsk8r8mY9EnEpPsL2AH6TZyAAixHYAELl9pUrPL8RClWSfYHGd4dTVi6CLrqYnF6GnBKKdpGnYFvUPw1UMIgX/s1600/DSC06170.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465405854386604978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1MzHIhcUUo7MyZVIm4fJyl5s2czckPKUhT5ceVAtrHP1b4Yq8JGzC33qsk8r8mY9EnEpPsL2AH6TZyAAixHYAELl9pUrPL8RClWSfYHGd4dTVi6CLrqYnF6GnBKKdpGnYFvUPw1UMIgX/s320/DSC06170.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrXP_lfAnZvWqDOJ1q3xtuhFKDmMkyU4joU2uHJVZ7TjjqXKzvk42IrByVWoMwhPiO7x0lqgBuEK58LbJrpgSarzGS5_QkWGQrzZ6mKq6hyn98AVEAXyTBSdA8RQwJfHd9N4es6tyxZSn/s1600/DSC06175.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465405847722336066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrXP_lfAnZvWqDOJ1q3xtuhFKDmMkyU4joU2uHJVZ7TjjqXKzvk42IrByVWoMwhPiO7x0lqgBuEK58LbJrpgSarzGS5_QkWGQrzZ6mKq6hyn98AVEAXyTBSdA8RQwJfHd9N4es6tyxZSn/s320/DSC06175.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKBSc4ftyJrh-9jqSkBQBrbHWE84vDgJfCx-o88oE4XfRA11ZlDPIUycjtHuEBlG-sxNpI5AChK5VC2iJWq97nGASbXcae3Y-k8ELB6w5lvD8JzXFGMMKDNQjwB-kP7DzVOyxHVUpNiRY/s1600/DSC06176.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465405842309377570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKBSc4ftyJrh-9jqSkBQBrbHWE84vDgJfCx-o88oE4XfRA11ZlDPIUycjtHuEBlG-sxNpI5AChK5VC2iJWq97nGASbXcae3Y-k8ELB6w5lvD8JzXFGMMKDNQjwB-kP7DzVOyxHVUpNiRY/s320/DSC06176.JPG" border="0" /></a></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-35607102658382155632010-04-30T05:14:00.000-07:002010-04-30T05:14:00.542-07:00Quote of the Day<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Often people attempt to live their lives backwards: they try to have more things, or more money, in order to do more of what they want so that they will be happier. The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first</em> be <em>who you really are, then,</em> do <em>what you need to do, in order to</em> have <em>what you want.</em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>- Margaret Young</em></span></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-22677636864832265672010-04-28T20:46:00.001-07:002010-04-28T20:58:06.707-07:00Before and After<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I picked up this great dresser at a thrift store last week. I have been looking for something to go by the front door to replace the chest for the boys shoes.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1Aj471aQRTOOBue9P1F7q2fZ_ebSRfnObwhOy0LXj3YkyDnLpoj9yMFSnqXRzJpea6u1HirzOmfTnJfi2diBHV1vaIsCg9pI3RAT7A4H79pYh1xgIb96o0S3CDisJfrzbjbAyrUhJQua/s1600/IMG_1010.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465402430056285538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1Aj471aQRTOOBue9P1F7q2fZ_ebSRfnObwhOy0LXj3YkyDnLpoj9yMFSnqXRzJpea6u1HirzOmfTnJfi2diBHV1vaIsCg9pI3RAT7A4H79pYh1xgIb96o0S3CDisJfrzbjbAyrUhJQua/s320/IMG_1010.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sorry, for the bad pictures, but you get the idea - this was not a pretty piece of furniture! I stripped the paint off, painted a pink undercoat, white and then distressed it.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></div></span><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NdXBrbehiNtX9ld6RFJ2PcD19KXkexv3vx7HYlRFh40TT8X2wdd1tCeWjhHTnYG2YC2KvyVFmyd5OEPNDhvlA6NC3oOjlZPXdDfYN9Hm0Vba569dFUdawMuvJJ30Soh2lZzSBSiHFmGc/s1600/IMG_1008.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465402009591794994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NdXBrbehiNtX9ld6RFJ2PcD19KXkexv3vx7HYlRFh40TT8X2wdd1tCeWjhHTnYG2YC2KvyVFmyd5OEPNDhvlA6NC3oOjlZPXdDfYN9Hm0Vba569dFUdawMuvJJ30Soh2lZzSBSiHFmGc/s320/IMG_1008.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> I love the way it turned out! Both of the boys have their own drawer for their shoes as well as their backpacks and so far it is keeping my entry way much neater. Which makes for a much happier mom!<br /></span><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivI7Og-GPwe44bn8MNpluYeATIHvkW1Ut_7CDPgUtf4mx0M5dIQ5SWk6M5uPrmAckmMcMtRQfZ8BWowK2XLH-lu635DXTx78usjcQ5XFsIqIP80weY17hgKf1OairLs8HPoFnTkGK3AyDh/s1600/DSC06174.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465401297449826802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivI7Og-GPwe44bn8MNpluYeATIHvkW1Ut_7CDPgUtf4mx0M5dIQ5SWk6M5uPrmAckmMcMtRQfZ8BWowK2XLH-lu635DXTx78usjcQ5XFsIqIP80weY17hgKf1OairLs8HPoFnTkGK3AyDh/s320/DSC06174.JPG" border="0" /></a> I painted the pulls turquoise and it fits perfectly!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjILoPTgAgTbU03_LRjRTKixE7LafDfCe5vQdHx5vdWXAOfy0UYwZi_Al81i0fDnar1oc2qFT-PbQveF5RYvP2lUVXB2RwvVrVyCNqMXkFUzfZVKF_-MvwFJ71__cHwVKFhgHYI3uepvMbZ/s1600/DSC06173.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465401290544160482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjILoPTgAgTbU03_LRjRTKixE7LafDfCe5vQdHx5vdWXAOfy0UYwZi_Al81i0fDnar1oc2qFT-PbQveF5RYvP2lUVXB2RwvVrVyCNqMXkFUzfZVKF_-MvwFJ71__cHwVKFhgHYI3uepvMbZ/s320/DSC06173.JPG" border="0" /></a> What do you think?</div></div></div><br /></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-827056112076772032010-04-24T13:27:00.000-07:002010-04-24T13:27:00.499-07:00Quote of the Day<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“When you are content to be simply yourself and don’t compare or compete, everybody will respect you.” -- Lao-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tzu</span></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">This is one of the hardest things for me to do - just be myself. I have spent so many years listening to the voices that it has been difficult for me to just relax and be me. You know the voices - the outside ones from other people, the running script from your parents, and then the nasty little voices that subtly put you down...</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And then there is the direct comparison to other women - they have it more together than I do, they handled that parenting issue better than I have, they keep their house cleaner, more organized, have dinner ready on time, have a cuter haircut...</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">What does it takes to stop the voices? Stop comparing? Stop judging myself? What does it take to learn who I am, relax and settle in to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">becoming</span> the best me I can be?</span></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-47438132423472387112010-04-23T13:34:00.001-07:002010-04-23T14:08:22.076-07:00A Date!<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have a date this weekend!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not a romantic date, but a friendship date. It is no less exciting and in fact I am probably even more excited!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You see, one of my goals over the past year has been to increase my friendship base. For lots of very legitimate life reasons, I haven't developed that many close friendships in the past 8 years. And the amazing friends I do have - most have moved away to other parts of the country or do not live close to me. They are still <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">incredible</span> friends, but we can no longer just hang out or go to the movies without a plane ticket being involved. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Although I was seriously dating someone for almost three years, I have been a single, stay-at-home mom and just finished graduate school. As a therapist, the people I meet on a daily basis could never be friends...So, I found myself finally lifting my head up and looking around thinking I need to work on this!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What do you do when you decide you want to make friends as an adult? It's not as easy as when you were in school, or even working in a larger office. There you see people on a daily basis.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How do you meet new people? Then moving a relationship from an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">acquaintance</span> to friendship takes effort. First of all there has to be some sort of attraction - similar interests, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">similar</span> views on life, or for some reason you just want to get to know them better.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But then what? Do you ask them out? Do you keep calling? What if your kids don't get along?</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Juggling work, kids, husbands, boyfriends and families while trying to develop friendships is much harder than it once was! Because in addition, the time I spend with my friends is time something else is not getting done - laundry, housework, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">yard work</span>, painting, reading...and really I have a fairly tenuous grip on those things anyways!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I recently ran across a new <a href="http://mwfseekingbff.com/">blog </a>that is asking similar questions. And even though I had been thinking about this issue and in fact had written something last year, I never wanted to publish it because I felt a little, well, crazy. Even though we talk about making friends, and wish for deep connections with others, we don't really talk about how or why. Reading her posts on her own search for a deep friendship made me realize that deep down, we all have the same feelings. We all feel isolated and alone, scared and lonely, and even a little bit crazy.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And sometimes, sharing these feelings brings us closer together because we realize that we are not alone. We are not crazy. We are not isolated. We all long for someone to understand our own personal brand of crazy. Someone to make us laugh. Someone that can honestly say that your outfit isn't the most flattering on you and we appreciate it! Someone that can make us laugh. And someone that we can call up and be with, just because.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Husbands and boyfriends are wonderful, but nothing can replace the fellowship, friendship and love of other women! (Oh, and I have realized that friends are directly related to my goals of joy!)</span></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-44110628980138657372010-04-15T05:58:00.000-07:002010-04-15T05:58:00.247-07:00Skate Park<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The city recently built a skate park by our house. The boys wanted to go check it out the other day, so I naively thought, "Sure. Let's ride our bikes over and leave the skate boards at home until we know what we are dealing with." In other words, mommy is not ready for this. And I don't want to go to the hospital today.</span><br /><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Turns out it is for bikes and skate boards. All at the same time. Adults. Teenagers. Kids. Chaos.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459486384281782034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIP8i3bwtEo_JLYkMTzMjXDbFontDkUELrccAwnX1YgTNyN8jdmawYhqIsZRwJPDL36qA1rFphwBUwBs_gnj0zqRDIAk0ws6Zwc1BCSShvzUv9RM3JpLTHqcIi_cgp35poD3nTrb0QxqS/s320/DSC05963.JPG" border="0" /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My little one, who is barely six and just lost his first tooth (I want the rest to come out of their own accord) decides to take one of the bigger ramps on. (He is also on a bike that is slightly too large for him...)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459483566311081986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0Nssp9z3WVA3Hze8oOQE3Gi0d69Ea9nWHupvspD3XSAwvBno5AOGOgU98ZoJ-ncavrVhjfxBE-HqaKimXTIfHNSkXrN_Uijv5U-exKA2Gtmkp6lLCmfz7umCErZOvAapbYJT_b9zoS19/s320/DSC05935.JPG" border="0" />Yes, that is a bandanna across his face...well, actually it's a napkin...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459483573405089234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-H9NT6UQj_0pd5PaT1k3dwroWcy1LGAHVmPkm9MCdBEK7mmCgGxa07QKkpU9f2J1rr3tjEgGj_fYWXE3GP3wn1IvAF4n65USJCZXOESyIxL9J0mvLguA-tZ41ocGgI-h1jw65KqpoYgeG/s320/DSC05936.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459483583158025314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFn3P_bIL80pxEicIEzq12v-TLml1-RBnR1K3R745QNqbKMtEbqg0fX1eCVPgpt9et9HesyFH03HZYwgz3AdEHBBQXLatTrRdhIkRiZZ1B3K864VDc93ojutWHbWi2Yn3Fx5YOCXRH2bDI/s320/DSC05937.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459483594202783202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVPBEH1hAt5yOT6aibpyAcgLLs-UNmlWAbRkFTZYfrEZGcGmM5N9y5tHUNvmPqzBsgsVYGbIdj3yU3l4rG0KqXeY8Mh71igFp0KwObVhbpf6tRsKzvOjmLqCvh7zTtKN8kGajtZXD1lu_/s320/DSC05938.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459483735519339378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheumJjT8CCCDt2IFng0sYgxJBjvrCEtwShO3jXa5i6tKOuIA7rrP6qRCiyMTxLew_IkEUVOqahsA-zC7tcXCOWnI0ncdzt8zYV-huE6h8aFXFdeACb6XPe_-PLlJjjXQrGORlTDG7HC2Mb/s320/DSC05939.JPG" border="0" /> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He's almost up...</span><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459483747931734370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUAOVOcHfQWeFSD_5s8jY9pnTsBLDGwbTE-m1d9aHXuNdMAaCUyL9K6Drmm4_Ioh4DmNLsLUMPhfTyCl-RXxPeSnyWG1JzZo17ClcxBYDoV_43a5lIKwruhpJlCOhtD9abGpvVVjITc_di/s320/DSC05940.JPG" border="0" />...not enough speed...I stayed and watched from the sidelines, but a very nice teenager was immediately their and helped him get his bike out.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Boys make moms nervous. It's their job. And they are good at it. Unfortunately, my job is to let them.</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459486391620543314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYe8NTcRvE66oLr8N6EqXADNm9RBlYJ-RWGk-tE5CxmXxGp_K8bpisXPqkpFn-l4inAwKaYjh9wWJE1oSk5Ch5AukG7QiOrKsn7DYCWBg7U3Oj2JC1rxvzKnEvrpgZzPfEMRbenR4uYCiz/s320/DSC06041.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459486397104988898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUw33Fe8WRVdu-fzJzFgmUPrT9oeS9TCb8QKoA8X8UtXNfQqMh84KGP0NhrG2f71GIOLlOPOjN2xEdJW2L0KJ2IjDneaGMVOP7f3w6sfR5LD5GkKBFd3JvGZDtDcuj_DMd3DQhFEQXbkC/s320/DSC06043.JPG" border="0" /><br /></div>and that's why they wear helmets!Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-3086544090269896012010-04-14T05:54:00.000-07:002010-04-14T05:54:00.182-07:00Wordless Wednesday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJedNYx8FIXTa8B62z_wbmX7ApCsLBjqf0Uvf2uczYxdKEgtcLmW4KdJ7ZIVNQKzVU34JDVOFkO94IuiGkM5guU9YuyslrR5ogzpbyVBQopQNunML5VhqjHUU4HuWSSIIwKhHLvldqLWL/s1600/DSC05848.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459481864189451794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJedNYx8FIXTa8B62z_wbmX7ApCsLBjqf0Uvf2uczYxdKEgtcLmW4KdJ7ZIVNQKzVU34JDVOFkO94IuiGkM5guU9YuyslrR5ogzpbyVBQopQNunML5VhqjHUU4HuWSSIIwKhHLvldqLWL/s320/DSC05848.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyFhVM5jjUPCjEnCjjtlkxzBmZvXJPCnkLSuqlw97M2oauTrVfYt5lYA05M3jP_Y_wyoNYSUHyxCR1uN8Kgb4eyvbAPrQkMiHVeKcJn0K4dFRCbNm_Tj4KU6ZhQNNhPRge-DtsuoRjt7Qu/s1600/DSC05836.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459481859815723666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyFhVM5jjUPCjEnCjjtlkxzBmZvXJPCnkLSuqlw97M2oauTrVfYt5lYA05M3jP_Y_wyoNYSUHyxCR1uN8Kgb4eyvbAPrQkMiHVeKcJn0K4dFRCbNm_Tj4KU6ZhQNNhPRge-DtsuoRjt7Qu/s320/DSC05836.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-22385375010622454632010-04-13T05:40:00.000-07:002010-04-13T05:40:00.381-07:00Birthday Projects<span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Last week was my mom's 70th birthday! You would never know it form looking at her or even spending a day with her. This woman has more energy than I know what to do with!</span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3epZvX6tRPIGPzfIfnS38aq4Pp6diibTQPJchrK3e-sDA1RH5_q5agcX6PkuEMPnj50KFO5p_ye5nlKs9Mbohyqp-eRTe5WR4Y0KVhH6aBXogdOFu8eifYvtA9EeIRTZZFf-rZqWuG_Uo/s1600/DSC05822.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459479267550121602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3epZvX6tRPIGPzfIfnS38aq4Pp6diibTQPJchrK3e-sDA1RH5_q5agcX6PkuEMPnj50KFO5p_ye5nlKs9Mbohyqp-eRTe5WR4Y0KVhH6aBXogdOFu8eifYvtA9EeIRTZZFf-rZqWuG_Uo/s320/DSC05822.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The boys and I went down and spent Easter break with them and helped her get a few things done. We installed her vegetable garden which this year is a mix of raised beds, container and straw bales.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9honScRHBz_KefQFSR7JPzOLp4vawGUPpvYXMdKpKZa0jsjMJEbHY8TsaR1Pcp22zg4RdjLXVNEuDYuLKVw0LvMP_zFRFPsQO5XY-zP0uoFwWJQe1PHk3hji2b-huZYUYffTMkwBPf7aX/s1600/DSC05820.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459479263441950162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9honScRHBz_KefQFSR7JPzOLp4vawGUPpvYXMdKpKZa0jsjMJEbHY8TsaR1Pcp22zg4RdjLXVNEuDYuLKVw0LvMP_zFRFPsQO5XY-zP0uoFwWJQe1PHk3hji2b-huZYUYffTMkwBPf7aX/s320/DSC05820.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJ0xWgf3FnLVrLawTQjon5gerEYlkHjNT8v5LuOeks5ZpIq1iRj8NQQid3Vvu7fC3Ivoxj3PVC_WtB1SQM5fTJuQ6VvCNVI_SqaUAZddEEbmdkY5c0H85TCzQbbjWATYsDBHqmJSs8nxf/s1600/DSC05813.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459479248770748498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJ0xWgf3FnLVrLawTQjon5gerEYlkHjNT8v5LuOeks5ZpIq1iRj8NQQid3Vvu7fC3Ivoxj3PVC_WtB1SQM5fTJuQ6VvCNVI_SqaUAZddEEbmdkY5c0H85TCzQbbjWATYsDBHqmJSs8nxf/s320/DSC05813.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We sanded down and oiled her badly dilapidated porch swings. </span></div></div><br /></div><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459479443204026738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyvHh8SEfiy746rLbZWW0VbVimTjJehL3LnJr07ZaXWyPZ_SrV9uNPP151zY40JJS1Cea1_R95hgMVt4-eI6goVTA6rcyanUVWOLhFBjl_BMr0hHdJvO8frvs6l1WmNQSFEu_UwyGIYr61/s320/DSC05773.JPG" border="0" /></span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Papa took the boys fishing. (Which gave mom and me a nice day to be with each other.)</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459479449793807938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDqNVDNWJPTWPb6YNG32MfdinOt8tQzYcNbT7ZuPOiAOraUb89FhLMLJWFx9uvXj5Hhg-pEcOBRmyfK5jFcLZx7NUClc8dEXHSZG2cOze66v-4IJBjUxVhtyLaEou0lEO73m1umXzoVCQ8/s320/DSC05794.JPG" border="0" /></span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And Ryan got a new dog.</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459479460530879842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PzuoSSgMzJfyBq0C3wQqmE8a4kycgVtq3RhOIOE7Z87s55i-GsCxDaiKO0xrOT6gv4bQNfYpT_tbjHDW-y-B0XhiRAxywtymJqWncwUIqMKLAlvCD6xNgaN8BF4K10jLMfWS3fMus0-v/s320/DSC05811.JPG" border="0" /></span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ok, so this last one wasn't exactly a birthday project for mom - but it did get rid of one of the dogs currently living at her house. Which makes her very happy!</span></p>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929501541335406144.post-7902208646242360312010-04-12T21:35:00.001-07:002010-04-12T22:20:09.246-07:00Lost tooth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAh2tSDd6_kRk2s4k3vHRaIQ0rrAcFZdsq5w3YOMTC2UCK1FQ6IEm550XOF3iXbIb3BJtOfcXygxAc1LFsyRoTfKTmYjB-4QYGmJawkQyPuz_ZK9UbBv-iiy0-NugDS4FQHpiDWmEJm0S/s1600/IMG_1004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459477153327781746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAh2tSDd6_kRk2s4k3vHRaIQ0rrAcFZdsq5w3YOMTC2UCK1FQ6IEm550XOF3iXbIb3BJtOfcXygxAc1LFsyRoTfKTmYjB-4QYGmJawkQyPuz_ZK9UbBv-iiy0-NugDS4FQHpiDWmEJm0S/s320/IMG_1004.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Max lost his first tooth last week. It was a very happy occasion for him as it marks yet one more milestone towards growing up, it marks one more milestone for me that he is growing up...</span></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08105740195611409053noreply@blogger.com0