tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153714522024-03-07T12:22:37.739-08:00Happy to Be SoPour me a glass of wine, talk deep into the night. Who knows what we'll find.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.comBlogger192125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-26116172318073932452011-03-03T13:04:00.000-08:002011-03-03T13:10:46.817-08:00might as well sing alongSo....looks like I missed Christmas. Oops. At least this time I have a GOOD reason, seeing as how I'm pregnant. Again. And the 3rd trimester is a doozy, so I should get plenty slack for forgetting to post. I think I may have a few pictures from the past few months of our new life in Fort Worth, so I'll really try to get those up here. We're enjoying being in FW, have finally found a church home, and are starting to make friends and develop a routine. Baby will wreck that routine of course, so I know this is temporary. If all goes as planned and I stay healthy, I'll be delivering the new little bugger at the folks' house in San Antonio, so that I can use my lovely midwife whom I adore. So you can at least count on my posting again when I announce who showed up, and some cute pics of whoever it is!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-26474946800566764662010-07-28T19:01:00.000-07:002010-07-28T19:21:25.162-07:00I'm older now and still running against the wind<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >Top 10 reasons why Kristen is a bad blogger</span>:<br /><br />#10 "I'm just technologically impaired" (thanks, Weird Al, for the idea)<br /><br />#9 Dave got a new job, moved to Fort Worth, we moved out of our house, into my parents' house, are living out of suitcases, and Shelley keeps making oatmeal raisin cookies to keep me full which makes me sleepy and then I forget I have a blog. <br /><br />#8 Fussing about missing Dave takes up a large part of my day.<br /><br />#7 Henry is in charge of reminding me. <br /><br />#6 I feel the need to take large breaks to find out who my true bloggity friends are.<br /><br />#5 My computer died. (last week, but still....it DID die)<br /><br />#4 My friends' blogs are all way cooler and there is no way I can keep up.<br /><br />#3 I'm busy reading an awesome book about beer.<br /><br />#2 So you'll have something to nag me about.<br /><br />and the best reason of all.......<br /><br />#1 I was predestined to be that way, so, what are ya gonna do?<br /><br />I have no pictures of my growing-way-too-fast kids because my computer is on life support. Would you just believe me if I tell you they are cute? We are incredibly thankful that Dave has a job! He was hired by Farmers Insurance Group in Plano, and is now finished with his training. He is a property claims adjuster, and really likes his job. Right now he is camping out with my grandparents in Fort Worth, while the kids and I camp out at the Warren homestead. Later this summer we hope to be moving, and are praying that God leads us to the right house, church, friends, etc at just the right time. It will be nice to be closer to our FW family, though we are sad to be leaving our SA family behind (again! sheesh....common theme). And my sister CJ is getting married in October, so we're busy planning that and looking forward to welcoming another bro-in-law to the crowd. They'll live in Shawnee, OK, so we'll actually be much closer to them once we're moved north. Sister Annie just had her 3rd kiddo, Savannah Joy, and I'm sad they are so far away and I can't hold my new niece!! Can't wait to see them this fall!<br /><br />I'm out of news, so, next up....Christmas!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-81121682976894764762009-11-12T10:57:00.001-08:002009-11-13T13:46:24.119-08:00I learned to laugh through my tears<div align="left">What's better than girlfriends??? Girlfriends and new babies!! Last weekend I got to hang out with my 3 college buddies in South Carolina. We hadn't seen each other in 2 years, and it didn't look like Posse 09 was going to be a possibility, but graciously God allowed it to happen and we spent 3 fabulous days together. Jackie flew in from Utah, Janelle drove down from the DC area, and I jetted from TX. Amy, the baby of the Posse, had struggled with infertility for years, and was finally blessed with little Jackson in August. Naturally, as his favorite Posse Auntie, I felt that I needed to see him at as young an age as possible, to confirm my favored status. I was right. Duh! Seriously, we ate too much food. I will say that as the only Posse member who does not possess a sweet tooth, its hysterical to watch 3 girls put away 2 bags of Snickers in the blink of an eye. Hehe. Some celebratory beverages were had, we watched some football, fought over Jackson, played fetch with Lucy a mind-numbing number of times, and it was all wonderful. These girls are fantastic, and I'm truly blessed that God brought us together those 14 years ago and has kept our friendship strong. If you don't have a Posse, go get yourself one! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9dy0hUCV5GIWYMhyphenhyphen57Pfm-K8rrR1qOUZsZSfXzer4TtAZE1V2ddcCSGnNySSKZWyiSefQLVilRSM3LrLm608l0sNFf-CXpBng5GYTETqxVixvyy4ASFw1TFJvNGyA6D6PjCyww/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403294880284798690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9dy0hUCV5GIWYMhyphenhyphen57Pfm-K8rrR1qOUZsZSfXzer4TtAZE1V2ddcCSGnNySSKZWyiSefQLVilRSM3LrLm608l0sNFf-CXpBng5GYTETqxVixvyy4ASFw1TFJvNGyA6D6PjCyww/s320/001.JPG" /></a> I told Jackson he didn't need to be nervous since he has the fanciest baby bath I've ever seen. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br /></div><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAU3EdePAaDo6nd0jJnodXlnMjRwPctkT4olfzPAiiIzETQkM_p1TvbapmzPiCmPfq-1vqvYMjz7qJwT0gQv5bH9Vhqaqn-YBfznEx5TbI8qNXrazPz-Mmo-HpEEo-DqESuuCcBg/s1600-h/027.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403294715180603426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAU3EdePAaDo6nd0jJnodXlnMjRwPctkT4olfzPAiiIzETQkM_p1TvbapmzPiCmPfq-1vqvYMjz7qJwT0gQv5bH9Vhqaqn-YBfznEx5TbI8qNXrazPz-Mmo-HpEEo-DqESuuCcBg/s320/027.JPG" /></a> Whoever feeds him is the favorite. Score!!</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9LRuSo7ZHTQgRS-rGq44vOPtWL6laS6P2banGk8EJy4Tf9OnRjDi8a9GrZBvuS9uim0QfDmojUjm0szUPZsdt1euHbJFXQrCsuo2JTQtRFR4WEBkO33BuR_mqIqXzr4Qzt7fLZQ/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403294549986865426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9LRuSo7ZHTQgRS-rGq44vOPtWL6laS6P2banGk8EJy4Tf9OnRjDi8a9GrZBvuS9uim0QfDmojUjm0szUPZsdt1euHbJFXQrCsuo2JTQtRFR4WEBkO33BuR_mqIqXzr4Qzt7fLZQ/s320/005.JPG" /></a> Lucy, waiting for us to pay attention to her instead of Jackson. </p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbpFhRy9S18T9uQ4ZZPXZW-HRpNXbAiSGUxhD9hig_Vklzcq2YQGlOi90Id7YgMSmcpSQkilJyPl2WIBZFG69NlBDIKS1FIzG1g-xnE7A15YSxsCN9pABUJaS37azqaxBf6D_Ug/s1600-h/021.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403294324509379874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbpFhRy9S18T9uQ4ZZPXZW-HRpNXbAiSGUxhD9hig_Vklzcq2YQGlOi90Id7YgMSmcpSQkilJyPl2WIBZFG69NlBDIKS1FIzG1g-xnE7A15YSxsCN9pABUJaS37azqaxBf6D_Ug/s320/021.JPG" /></a> Ames and me</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiaqhveZhp5_7wbNLuBBpV9iF6XRPWzbuKW1iq9Ay7MIinMh9V42TKk0RD5yA9dPUpIAdx1kWcs5_Zd-z1mQZzTF-6ofPDuoYVbQfwbDIj-P-ouYg_nz_v4EcgD_DI5Epdu4_Dw/s1600-h/011.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403294184302459250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiaqhveZhp5_7wbNLuBBpV9iF6XRPWzbuKW1iq9Ay7MIinMh9V42TKk0RD5yA9dPUpIAdx1kWcs5_Zd-z1mQZzTF-6ofPDuoYVbQfwbDIj-P-ouYg_nz_v4EcgD_DI5Epdu4_Dw/s320/011.JPG" /></a> taking a much needed walk (remember the Snickers?), and Janelle looking illegally cute for her 30-something weeks of pregnancy. </p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pJ8NAGJrS1AehKdyyT4uC-uHeT-LIyKLe9LPctNLEkE_FeCaEu801Z9K80SGW3UWz4b2wfRs6V__WqLvYoGOU1ntRsei7RxYQT7LtNcRuu1yqMiBCmRu5MRi04Jgvu9ZQPY6bg/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403294060025308946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pJ8NAGJrS1AehKdyyT4uC-uHeT-LIyKLe9LPctNLEkE_FeCaEu801Z9K80SGW3UWz4b2wfRs6V__WqLvYoGOU1ntRsei7RxYQT7LtNcRuu1yqMiBCmRu5MRi04Jgvu9ZQPY6bg/s320/006.JPG" /></a> Jackie woke up extra early the first day to hog him first. </p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBQ91kR-ahKo0Kmon6_mE1MLLyCakPMRKcd8XZah6MaeVrR6XIe09M7VP_F37LD6eQEEyYSxK-9lcvPEkJXzmkQqXKhg2XjnqYiXmE69LfS3Wgmrq5LnCoNaSCmx62zFGhesQzw/s1600-h/023.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403293916463264818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBQ91kR-ahKo0Kmon6_mE1MLLyCakPMRKcd8XZah6MaeVrR6XIe09M7VP_F37LD6eQEEyYSxK-9lcvPEkJXzmkQqXKhg2XjnqYiXmE69LfS3Wgmrq5LnCoNaSCmx62zFGhesQzw/s320/023.JPG" /></a> Glitter toes!!</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPMN8Uaaec86Rv-DZu0Y29oyw8TRzTR-41kTlK0PrkcjM2NYn9arcxjfmys7twUAK5OcDEL0_5YAF1q-ACXlWoj57Z5TKiUqGoIbmlFJwQBZovwl8sj4sS6n8OozoL83RiAIN-Q/s1600-h/025.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403293812637762786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPMN8Uaaec86Rv-DZu0Y29oyw8TRzTR-41kTlK0PrkcjM2NYn9arcxjfmys7twUAK5OcDEL0_5YAF1q-ACXlWoj57Z5TKiUqGoIbmlFJwQBZovwl8sj4sS6n8OozoL83RiAIN-Q/s320/025.JPG" /></a> He's digging me. I can tell. </p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZeB2suQThRPIgKj1qf7jiZshI30k6_c-VaFwi_KJGPzIiadkdwkXarusHGKdxMu7SwpYbM6jo5JQmPbioqmAupjRmHnr-bhlDhUUGWwZYxtVgSfIMm3x-fcrHVdROPng9Z0h7A/s1600-h/020.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403293534129338274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZeB2suQThRPIgKj1qf7jiZshI30k6_c-VaFwi_KJGPzIiadkdwkXarusHGKdxMu7SwpYbM6jo5JQmPbioqmAupjRmHnr-bhlDhUUGWwZYxtVgSfIMm3x-fcrHVdROPng9Z0h7A/s320/020.JPG" /> <p align="center"></a> Can't wait for next year!!<br /></p>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-4244207812872642832009-10-27T12:41:00.001-07:002009-10-27T13:04:57.624-07:00he's going the distance...he's going for speed<div align="left">Runners are an interesting breed. They obviously love punishment and inhuman amounts of perspiration, or maybe those are just the necessary trade-offs to be in better shape than the rest of us. Whatever. My husband loves to run, and started running more regularly this summer, presumably so that he can be a "bona fide" runner, and talk all the crazy, mumbo-jumbo runner language with all the other interesting people. I fully support this. And he fully supports my support-without-participation. Its a good thing we have going. So he signed up for an 8-miler (his first race since we've been married), along with my brother Nathan and some of our friends. Of course I went along to cheer and congratulate, and Beth kept me company, snapping pics. All of them did great, and Dave was happy to beat his target time. I'm proud of him!! We're a fabulous, glamorous couple, and here is some proof:</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left">*</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBt6F6bxhbF1BNDe9TZOl_qrC8913o2pWE-ggIwNdZbonDAYPeudaVv4QcacHQUFcrNOMRaZSYfVbBQXgvOpqj6ahaXvp0pWnMdKi0XVylHyRYNxEUrUtgyWcI5Q72Omm9GwnxA/s1600-h/004.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397369073454314178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBt6F6bxhbF1BNDe9TZOl_qrC8913o2pWE-ggIwNdZbonDAYPeudaVv4QcacHQUFcrNOMRaZSYfVbBQXgvOpqj6ahaXvp0pWnMdKi0XVylHyRYNxEUrUtgyWcI5Q72Omm9GwnxA/s320/004.JPG" /></a> Ok, ok...keeping it real. it was early. and cold. and early. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyyRsVjBwAkSuVa3P2FfwSQuJ6iq6p94vLlTCfPQP9Ea18JRXaqNs6U_jqLEF7h3Pl8ElSSFVzLKipxHFWBm__67f-2ghzaMpKe1xEOl9KgD-R6rcVIqYzXIfcnUY4t-7dZ5HSfQ/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397368921216704706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyyRsVjBwAkSuVa3P2FfwSQuJ6iq6p94vLlTCfPQP9Ea18JRXaqNs6U_jqLEF7h3Pl8ElSSFVzLKipxHFWBm__67f-2ghzaMpKe1xEOl9KgD-R6rcVIqYzXIfcnUY4t-7dZ5HSfQ/s320/006.JPG" /></a> The two bros trying to stay warm before the gun</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1jAEjw1neOPEe8VJ7ZsLi2w-M7Qh74uOjC7nO1Hp2_PMLoqM0sDsTB2vbS-6xcbhxAGhEnfWa1m5jMuQwXNwvwB7Q2p4wOrS6vBLCEV26VcgKpxypTxR4cilj6Urwip5AowmKw/s1600-h/010.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397368816264777410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1jAEjw1neOPEe8VJ7ZsLi2w-M7Qh74uOjC7nO1Hp2_PMLoqM0sDsTB2vbS-6xcbhxAGhEnfWa1m5jMuQwXNwvwB7Q2p4wOrS6vBLCEV26VcgKpxypTxR4cilj6Urwip5AowmKw/s320/010.JPG" /></a> they are in that crowd somewhere, promise.</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis56N_jlZXjqabLPDXAmFJgFRuq40FHc2zuzElN9p7os2E-tFequRJD76IVtttzHujuewMPLgeQoUFUq-De-3POgBOghcm74qx_XP8Lzgyif7nykG8W5EsqYWL_gEsy3QJqKQ_eQ/s1600-h/027.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397368539402127186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis56N_jlZXjqabLPDXAmFJgFRuq40FHc2zuzElN9p7os2E-tFequRJD76IVtttzHujuewMPLgeQoUFUq-De-3POgBOghcm74qx_XP8Lzgyif7nykG8W5EsqYWL_gEsy3QJqKQ_eQ/s320/027.JPG" /></a> here he comes! woo-hoo, Babe!</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknomESd9kBv0g8a4uKwKVbCtKMmcbhAH_L8mp04syqfQcbL_zFTRZwe7tiVx2HMqbitgdemrFRjxnuGq_M9031O1ZkPPHW3J62t4Y24I2nl4hr9pIbLj1NkInqYrpWH1PeABK2Q/s1600-h/028.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397368278236505106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknomESd9kBv0g8a4uKwKVbCtKMmcbhAH_L8mp04syqfQcbL_zFTRZwe7tiVx2HMqbitgdemrFRjxnuGq_M9031O1ZkPPHW3J62t4Y24I2nl4hr9pIbLj1NkInqYrpWH1PeABK2Q/s320/028.JPG" /></a> Celeste was next. she runs like a gazelle. you'd hate her for it if she weren't such an awesome girl. I don't even think she was breathing hard when she crossed the finish line. **sigh**</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfzduhhPBvgXXQKsZM8kPepTcsJYzKjYb30dpnNTMR8WlddJmvYSVQ3fAyWD1bgIIPmd_wLfhjusNt9mLkTAzzF19TyJMyAiUayVm6uCwgfHr0S5_kmwZB-y23i8dtzTQRTUNrg/s1600-h/033.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397368068444513602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfzduhhPBvgXXQKsZM8kPepTcsJYzKjYb30dpnNTMR8WlddJmvYSVQ3fAyWD1bgIIPmd_wLfhjusNt9mLkTAzzF19TyJMyAiUayVm6uCwgfHr0S5_kmwZB-y23i8dtzTQRTUNrg/s320/033.JPG" /></a> then came Blair and Candace! look! see Candace trying to cut Blair off and beat her to the line?? man, I love this competitive vibe!</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6o739Hkog5jPpK7dy_NpA17bq-zRw_7JyHQ3Fzez8TbOwlvTGKbnVVh9zU32dUvuYcSX1lCXWh5tGmMgrsYU8DUD_0Ifz3DjDIozLJ198oMx11GwggGVxjP6r6LLmM4Ube3HdYw/s1600-h/035.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397367727533970146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6o739Hkog5jPpK7dy_NpA17bq-zRw_7JyHQ3Fzez8TbOwlvTGKbnVVh9zU32dUvuYcSX1lCXWh5tGmMgrsYU8DUD_0Ifz3DjDIozLJ198oMx11GwggGVxjP6r6LLmM4Ube3HdYw/s320/035.JPG" /></a> and then came Cheyenne and Nathan! he wasn't very sweaty, so I was suspicious that he had made Chey carry him part of the way. and she looked just as cute as before the gun. argh!</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzKJaaIDHtwCcXnhmAalKSXEbyPsHG4sB8sNiaodkblaWoWqF8LMOUTxDz4kp7zLUo75TbkEFdgz4Zalc4vQ2Xt7AjyZOJSkHyOPhyphenhyphenlvxpdNPCopFL-j9LFtiS44NQ8LFQcaMgQ/s1600-h/037.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397367498467450290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzKJaaIDHtwCcXnhmAalKSXEbyPsHG4sB8sNiaodkblaWoWqF8LMOUTxDz4kp7zLUo75TbkEFdgz4Zalc4vQ2Xt7AjyZOJSkHyOPhyphenhyphenlvxpdNPCopFL-j9LFtiS44NQ8LFQcaMgQ/s320/037.JPG" /> <p align="center"></a>Dave, Blair, Candace, Chey, Nate, Celeste, a.k.a. "Team CoG" (Covenant of Grace, our church)<br /></p>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-42650842646998317242009-10-17T11:44:00.000-07:002009-10-17T12:26:55.773-07:00one step at a ti-i-ime!<div align="left">I really had planned to blog this sooner, but once again, if I keep your expectations low, it works to my advantage. In my reality, 2 weeks late really isn't late at all! Earlier this month, our kiddos joined in a production of Psalty's Camping Adventure, with all the kids from our church (I think there were 36 performers). My sister CJ was the director, and some of my other siblings, along with friends, were involved somehow in putting on this fabulous musical. For about 7 months they worked, memorized lines, learned songs and dance moves, built sets (Dave was resident set builder), and made costumes, culminating in a show that was fun and creative. A couple of my children actually cried when it was over because they were so sad. Dave's parents got to visit and see the performance, and they kids had a total audience of over 150! Here are a few shots:</div><br /><div align="center"> </div><br /><div align="center"> </div><br /><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA70HyJHtyLfEFhMo_4ADDutHEB0VRCegpvWVWTRnYBTofBr1N2vjJNNd-Rb5BCQx2awTzpLsqD5o8d4JiNKM4EQq7TzeGeBJDv0JaZi4NZ3M5CeSgEpnfdGQGhbA8mSA3BqFIGg/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px; display: block; height: 240px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392838057116308914" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA70HyJHtyLfEFhMo_4ADDutHEB0VRCegpvWVWTRnYBTofBr1N2vjJNNd-Rb5BCQx2awTzpLsqD5o8d4JiNKM4EQq7TzeGeBJDv0JaZi4NZ3M5CeSgEpnfdGQGhbA8mSA3BqFIGg/s320/006.JPG" border="0" /></a> That's Molly in the middle. She was a total ham (I'm sure that comes from Dave).<br /></div><br /><div align="center"> </div><br /><div align="center"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Ebat2iceq-_3P1w9EGn3owXAfLI-mf8SPhiz8ye4o1hyfcdxL0yfUxVy6jddi1ukRTZjDlwvx4BUeaJtpfXb8I8W9-sQCYgCnu_7Lm0V3a6nW1ffq6J-wPiq2PhPWIzd9AvQLg/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392838047833285858" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Ebat2iceq-_3P1w9EGn3owXAfLI-mf8SPhiz8ye4o1hyfcdxL0yfUxVy6jddi1ukRTZjDlwvx4BUeaJtpfXb8I8W9-sQCYgCnu_7Lm0V3a6nW1ffq6J-wPiq2PhPWIzd9AvQLg/s320/007.JPG" border="0" /></a> Henry was hysterical to watch, totally into his character! Warren was Farley McFirefly, and did great!</div><br /><div align="center"> </div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYe79RmyVVxKBff_KVuP5hU8F5WH61PTJiUJTjPaY2LDgyy_XGRkmv1HvIv11FU67bfJNHIGrgfmcWfYSjbyUvNPMSOi7eDe7vcnU-mLY6GLq6EDvg2QiyEYadjGo1hyvIjfkKQ/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392838039735312226" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYe79RmyVVxKBff_KVuP5hU8F5WH61PTJiUJTjPaY2LDgyy_XGRkmv1HvIv11FU67bfJNHIGrgfmcWfYSjbyUvNPMSOi7eDe7vcnU-mLY6GLq6EDvg2QiyEYadjGo1hyvIjfkKQ/s320/005.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p align="center">Carrie is a drama queen. Again, the Slaughter side....</p><br /><p align="center"> </p><br /><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1PrnznNlhlImqmxU6gI-4tto5I5hCPjqQQCb34xsw43CiAFhrOqTufgYM6jzq_wxoB4LEkG2IXRgzpxlim4pDbARcc1xpDD9HLuWWuWQLnXPlm8OUOC777qwUNtjjFp6lNkYuQ/s1600-h/002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px; display: block; height: 240px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392838034166928626" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1PrnznNlhlImqmxU6gI-4tto5I5hCPjqQQCb34xsw43CiAFhrOqTufgYM6jzq_wxoB4LEkG2IXRgzpxlim4pDbARcc1xpDD9HLuWWuWQLnXPlm8OUOC777qwUNtjjFp6lNkYuQ/s320/002.JPG" border="0" /></a> The whole crew!</p><br /><p align="center">Oh, and if you're wondering where Liam is, and if he was in the musical.....</p><br /><p align="center"> </p><br /><p align="center"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oRjid2qkp-F92XA7_BR38rNMwVzGmRhNPUiD1R4iCm6VjbQP8RYEM5bHcMTC_El8KB6sQaUxuXTh2CsGrfkjm01Md3STI8fuy0vaadT4C5XE4dxWccFrBeHlT_PcZamkdhCjoQ/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px; display: block; height: 240px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392838024597191202" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oRjid2qkp-F92XA7_BR38rNMwVzGmRhNPUiD1R4iCm6VjbQP8RYEM5bHcMTC_El8KB6sQaUxuXTh2CsGrfkjm01Md3STI8fuy0vaadT4C5XE4dxWccFrBeHlT_PcZamkdhCjoQ/s320/005.JPG" border="0" /><br /></a><p align="center">I ask you, would you let this character in your play? I rest my case. </p><br /><p align="center"><br /></p>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-71551980598449829742009-10-14T13:27:00.001-07:002009-10-14T13:36:16.617-07:00gimme, gimme that high-ten<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKZX3mNkCkKVwh9EQKvtE04YZKAFl1YeZ07Hg5lQZuadM8jjBlmqzb-SLS5S6RtLFkUTNHApmNES0KyRPGbwVos34US0xqW4Gdz8j77sWG_3igMIhCd3BmOCV_qBnSkTBk4KBfg/s1600-h/016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKZX3mNkCkKVwh9EQKvtE04YZKAFl1YeZ07Hg5lQZuadM8jjBlmqzb-SLS5S6RtLFkUTNHApmNES0KyRPGbwVos34US0xqW4Gdz8j77sWG_3igMIhCd3BmOCV_qBnSkTBk4KBfg/s320/016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392555143065898658" border="0" /></a>My baby turned 3. "They" said it would happen, but I hardly believed "them". I've never had a 3 year old and not had a younger child, so this feels really weird, but wonderful too. Liam is so good to remind me though, that babies aren't the only tough children, and a life without babies is not a life without stress, mess, and insanity. He had a great party, with all 4 grandparents and whole mess of other relatives. Since he loves trucks, he got a couple of those, and since he loves hurting people, he got a sword. One of his Aunties was sweet enough to buy him several packages of pasta. Did I ever mention that pasta is all Liam eats? He asks every night if I'm making pasta for dinner, and if I say "no", he says, "OK, I'll take noodles". Oddly enough, he's my child and he hates meat...go figure. Obviously the large quantities of steak I consumed while pregnant with him did not have the desired effect. Anyway, this cake was his favorite part of the party....blowing out his 3 candles made him feel important. Its the little things, you know? For those of you with that question in the back of your mind....NO, he is not potty-trained. After over 2 months, we're still battling. I.hate.this.more.than.anything. Hopefully he'll decide to figure it out before Christmas.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-42390378752055941002009-08-05T10:47:00.001-07:002009-08-05T11:02:23.179-07:00waiting for the world to turn<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsbGyXH7W9Nou_GuSzC5LXUQitcBADCH28jiJZn2P7G5BXveuH2p17fmpXoIFQm4IiBC8UgAymSH64VT1_iiph4IrCROyF2Q1E893cN3Qz72jSxbPyO0OsA_-RTlKnE2WIsuOtA/s1600-h/6608_127499019107_540789107_3106849_6652889_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsbGyXH7W9Nou_GuSzC5LXUQitcBADCH28jiJZn2P7G5BXveuH2p17fmpXoIFQm4IiBC8UgAymSH64VT1_iiph4IrCROyF2Q1E893cN3Qz72jSxbPyO0OsA_-RTlKnE2WIsuOtA/s320/6608_127499019107_540789107_3106849_6652889_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366537825495278722" border="0" /></a>So Liam will be 3 in 2 months. Aside from the fact that that detail is impossible, that also means my procrastination in potty-training must come to an end. I'm not hyper about early training, in fact I waited until Henry was 3 1/2 before even starting, and it went beautifully/quickly. But with Liam having a fall birthday, I didn't want training to linger into the holidays. I also don't like to put a training kid into pants (or even underpants), to avoid excess laundry and the problems of them not being able to pull pants up/down alone, so it helps to train during warm months. Uh...no problem there. Today its 103. Sufficiently hot for nudity. Anyhoo...I'm giving it a whirl. If we do not have quick success, with signs that he is self-motivated, we'll pack it up and wait until spring. He's not my easiest kid, definitely a hard-headed little peanut, so I'm crossing all my fingers and toes.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-18398012955358471852009-05-04T11:01:00.001-07:002009-05-04T11:16:47.195-07:00we could keep chillin' like ice cream-fillin'The wonder. The mystery. The tramp. Liam's favorite activity at Papa and Granny's house is jumping. In fact, when we pull up to their driveway, he immediately asks, "I jump, Mom? I jump now?". Sometimes he's even lucky enough to have a Dad around to steamroll him on the tramp (which Liam fusses about, but secretly loves. I think.). And in my book, anything that causes Liam's energy level to be quickly used up is one of my Favorite Things.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEH7RDHoQkCiRnic3iPR4gXWFyWqbgcSw6IBazS7lgdKIKxZ8CCPFY5GtQv4lZL5qJP07lyFFahHb-rnu7KSlQIV8QwzsT8Ag56klkaBWusFBgAbs4aI2k21ow_3U6KDisRzEZg/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEH7RDHoQkCiRnic3iPR4gXWFyWqbgcSw6IBazS7lgdKIKxZ8CCPFY5GtQv4lZL5qJP07lyFFahHb-rnu7KSlQIV8QwzsT8Ag56klkaBWusFBgAbs4aI2k21ow_3U6KDisRzEZg/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332032249536804642" border="0" /></a>Silly Dad, silly boy<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSQKZAptWvLxEdh2DQDh66R40nDNTzjuA7wM42rH0ejOjNFs1uQ1ACCFTNVU724GKhDlQ8ABuEdEmpHfzOb-19RJW2WF8kyFQ2-5IJztU-eyMz6Jf4ijscmafsTVDhGW8zvTmwA/s1600-h/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSQKZAptWvLxEdh2DQDh66R40nDNTzjuA7wM42rH0ejOjNFs1uQ1ACCFTNVU724GKhDlQ8ABuEdEmpHfzOb-19RJW2WF8kyFQ2-5IJztU-eyMz6Jf4ijscmafsTVDhGW8zvTmwA/s320/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332032245583159090" border="0" /></a>working hard to avoid the steamroll<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pm44u-yR2s6oN-aRqJHcLEWkFRPZ_MkcjY8afaZVNwvNRoa022pp8kHfyICQI65lgx5AeFv82VQqEmPpFrZRok6UBA5nmj7tSNk9D56LhUo0YndcyynrPM2Ewp0pfjFjCbkoyQ/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pm44u-yR2s6oN-aRqJHcLEWkFRPZ_MkcjY8afaZVNwvNRoa022pp8kHfyICQI65lgx5AeFv82VQqEmPpFrZRok6UBA5nmj7tSNk9D56LhUo0YndcyynrPM2Ewp0pfjFjCbkoyQ/s320/005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332032244889890514" border="0" /></a>considering his best move<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbj-wga2zo0Weo7QBusHP4HP1HwR1fc8h71r1Gb1ugA80zpKEkjl9Gg9ThwvDvIE70ugnlM0kVYktq8fx0pCZEQmke0F_ZkAYLYsktYtynBU4Wpak3f7cQ0OG0kBTfqMc5Z4wshg/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbj-wga2zo0Weo7QBusHP4HP1HwR1fc8h71r1Gb1ugA80zpKEkjl9Gg9ThwvDvIE70ugnlM0kVYktq8fx0pCZEQmke0F_ZkAYLYsktYtynBU4Wpak3f7cQ0OG0kBTfqMc5Z4wshg/s320/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332032238925354994" border="0" /></a>hmmm...not as much fun anymore. fussing is in order.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCkZeVna558dMlz52YWAHBFe3SJAbJOIPoJssOBSDyx-nWJUhBsrDDY0o6USIqnpEo3W67Gpnl8XRjx2kJ13i65Mm7a8u8SaV14CYYeCsiILfNFQtfletWcnV6TBsH5Q0IcrTa4Q/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCkZeVna558dMlz52YWAHBFe3SJAbJOIPoJssOBSDyx-nWJUhBsrDDY0o6USIqnpEo3W67Gpnl8XRjx2kJ13i65Mm7a8u8SaV14CYYeCsiILfNFQtfletWcnV6TBsH5Q0IcrTa4Q/s320/015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332032236798036914" border="0" /></a>post-tramp activity when we get home. ahhhh. yes.<br /></div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-60557903669997602132009-04-29T10:53:00.000-07:002009-04-29T11:01:35.820-07:00like children, true love, and wine, the best things in life take time<div style="text-align: center;">Easter morning<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisA_B3xaUcZNr3DGeF3k3laB3Gyiwp0BSnBn-irThiqG1ZTGoq-xGBHramdStJKzjfAtK1mhwIHnA6AWCLaLcxRdeN6VkJc7AgxY4lz9vYsK3NUxk_3aWbcm8YMrY1hk70L9XBw/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisA_B3xaUcZNr3DGeF3k3laB3Gyiwp0BSnBn-irThiqG1ZTGoq-xGBHramdStJKzjfAtK1mhwIHnA6AWCLaLcxRdeN6VkJc7AgxY4lz9vYsK3NUxk_3aWbcm8YMrY1hk70L9XBw/s320/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330173615243569698" border="0" /></a>two girls are better than one (in our case)<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheBSpWjwf2uvelJ9qxyatfFuGdk0A31gpmCy5A5FyoHVtJOXtDO0QS55xX_YVvfD-dHK8vlj3NAEY76HFXVpEPZrzkHchlVjfh0zG_AIHNdQHWKA1qCcP_YIhy9H4WgD-fSJcfwQ/s1600-h/004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheBSpWjwf2uvelJ9qxyatfFuGdk0A31gpmCy5A5FyoHVtJOXtDO0QS55xX_YVvfD-dHK8vlj3NAEY76HFXVpEPZrzkHchlVjfh0zG_AIHNdQHWKA1qCcP_YIhy9H4WgD-fSJcfwQ/s320/004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330173610806164354" border="0" /></a>too much cuteness.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLD-gZooCyJv0w4nPOQTBA-BG7FGbxM5_l1hykwdWwl3nlCYOKv8GP5hsQI3Oc7jvtzm3z29cwesdesnANjRY7slCZ2bW0HJHhNj-V2R5K-LDnp9VSFkUl1tN_Ta36i4Hymyf00g/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLD-gZooCyJv0w4nPOQTBA-BG7FGbxM5_l1hykwdWwl3nlCYOKv8GP5hsQI3Oc7jvtzm3z29cwesdesnANjRY7slCZ2bW0HJHhNj-V2R5K-LDnp9VSFkUl1tN_Ta36i4Hymyf00g/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330173608208300882" border="0" /></a>what happened here?? my goodness.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Yes, we do have boys. No, I did not take Easter pictures of them. Yes, I guess that makes me a bad Mommy. In my defense, they were probably wrestling, messing their hair up, and running around the house like wild dogs (only because this is usually the case). But seriously, girls are way cuter on Easter. Right?<br /></div><br /></div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-51204556198576855512009-04-01T10:30:00.000-07:002009-04-01T11:02:04.973-07:00we're far too seriousYes, still neglecting the blog. I'm consistently inconsistent, and you can take that to the BANK. Would you believe that I have not taken ONE picture since we moved to Texas? Not one. Not of the kids. Not of any kids. Not of our new house. Not of spring (but there's a good reason for that...spring doesn't exist). But I will. Probably. One major depressing thing is that right after we moved, we had to back up our hard drive to an external drive (is that even real computer-speak?), and now can't seem to get it to talk to us. This means all our pics that were on the computer are effectively gone. **sniff, sniff** And that is probably why I'm hesitant to take more pictures. The pictures won't commit to me for life, so I'd rather not get attached. As soon as I get over this (mostly) irrational fear, I'll try to get some shots of the kids up on here. <br /><br />So lately...<br /><br />*Molly made dinner, by herself, for the first time ever. It was scrumptious, and she did a great job. My plan here is to quickly work myself out of a job. Well, one anyway. Wonder of wonders, she hates diagramming sentences (which is as pointless as learning cursive) as much as I do. But FI.NAL.LY she is getting a grasp on her multiplication facts. whew. <br />* Warren lost his 2 front teeth, and sounds so funny w/ his temporary lisp. love it. <br />* Henry lost his first tooth. he was underwhelmed. <br />* Carrie now knows all her letters, their sounds, and a some blends. she is not, however, interested in school. this is fine with me. I am not interested in adding a new student yet. ever. <br />* Liam went pee in his new little potty. he was very excited, proud, and happy about the Skittles we gave him. that was 3 days ago, and he will not sit on the potty again. that is fine with me. I am not interested in potty training a new student yet. ever. <br />* Dave is awesome, though that is not a new happening, just thought it was worth mentioning. <br />* I am enjoying having a produce co-op again, and loving the raw milk co-op! I like to get my milk before the government gets their hands on it, but that's just me. <br /><br />Better start Wednesday, now that it's halfway over.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-32708970541596126632009-02-28T15:58:00.000-08:002009-02-28T16:13:00.790-08:00the best we can hope for is to make a beautiful messMan, oh man...I know. I really do know. You've probably already quit me by now, tiring of checking a petrified blog with the perpetual Christmas Eve post at the top. **sigh** In my defense, I'm terrible at multi-tasking. "Why have 5 kids?", you ask? Yes, I agree. Anyway, this post is nothing more than an apology of sorts, and for those who don't know (uh...no one?), an announcement that we are once again Texans. I'm not going to go into all the details, as its all sort of a blur right now. But, in recap...we felt (and still feel) that God clearly led us East. His hand was so evident in provision during those years: a new member added to our family, experience for Dave with an awesome company, a church we loved, my fab sister as a neighbor, and friends who overflowed my cup. We then believed He was leading us back. While the thought of living near my folks, friends, grandparents, etc. again had us very excited, we did leave VA with a heavy heart, really knowing what we were leaving behind. And that bittersweet mix is what life is all about. So we arrived in TX, blessed my a multitude of family, friends, and new faces who welcomed us and helped us quickly (read: in 3 hrs) unload and unpack our belongings. Our home is wonderful, and within 10 minutes of my folks and Aubrey & Dirk. Dave is launching his remodeling business, as we pray that God will bless his efforts and bring more clients. The kids are thrilled to be here, and while we have some adjustment issues with them, hopefully "normal" life will settle in soon. Though the SlaughterHouse never really knew normal. Normal is for wimps. <br /><br />I promise not to take another 2 month break, and hopefully I'll have some pics up soon.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-77323736696639586152008-12-24T06:25:00.000-08:002008-12-24T06:45:52.609-08:00the hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee tonightSometimes I see biblical characters through rose-colored glasses. I think about my own failings and wistfully imagine what it would have been like to be a Super-Christian, those who just had a smidge of extra holiness, an unavoidable effect of having lived in such proximity to the Messiah. While I get caught up in hooplah over trappings and commercialism, or worry about temporal struggles that can make Christmas tough to celebrate, I can easily assume that this kind of attitude would have been foreign to those saints gone before. Celebrating the Incarnation (at its appointed time and thereafter) must have been without the crippling worldliness and difficulty that we experience. Wouldn't that be nice??? And yet they were sinners like me. They worried about paying their taxes to corrupt governors, travel that could be hazardous, persecution, providing for their families...on and on. Human nature being consistent as it is, I suppose they had to consciously focus their thoughts on the joy of 'God become flesh' and not let their own flesh (or anything else) distract them from the pursuit of celebration. And though it must certainly have looked different, they celebrated the same things that we do today. Salvation. Adoption. Freedom. Life. And its that one Life that leads us to life eternal that I consciously choose to meditate upon today. Immanuel! Our God is with us!<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">For all those who live in the shadow of death,<br />a glorious light has dawned!<br />For all those who stumble in the darkness, <br />Behold! your Light has come!</span><br />~Michael CardKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-17039175035715284012008-12-23T04:50:00.000-08:002008-12-23T04:57:53.962-08:00let loving hearts enthrone Him<span style="font-weight:bold;">The Magnificat</span> -- Luke 1:46-55<br /><br />And Mary said,<br /><br />“<span style="font-style:italic;">My soul magnifies the Lord,<br />and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,<br />for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.<br />For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;<br />for he who is mighty has done great things for me,<br />and holy is his name.<br />And his mercy is for those who fear him<br />from generation to generation.<br />He has shown strength with his arm;<br />he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;<br />he has brought down the mighty from their thrones<br />and exalted those of humble estate;<br />he has filled the hungry with good things,<br />and the rich he has sent away empty.<br />He has helped his servant Israel,<br />in remembrance of his mercy,<br />as he spoke to our fathers,<br />to Abraham and to his offspring forever</span>.”Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-10341010759207826982008-12-21T17:32:00.000-08:002008-12-21T17:43:02.024-08:00all is calm, all is brightToday was a busy Lord's Day, and 4th Sunday of Advent, and I haven't had a chance to sit down and decide on something to post. But I thought I'd quickly share that in church this morning, during our annual Christmas program, the SlaughterHouse 7 sang "Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus", the song that I have been teaching the kids during the Advent season. They did such a wonderful job, singing out so loudly and confidently that Dave and I got many comments afterward from people wondering how we get our kids to do that. That struck me as so funny, because our kids have loved learning the carol and were excited to hear that we'd sing it as a family. Its nice when others notice my kids doing something well or right, and I hope that it can also be a blessing to others. And of course, any time I don't look like a slacker Mom is just a bonus for me.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-3499969909539936532008-12-20T05:44:00.000-08:002008-12-20T05:50:28.727-08:00soon it will be Christmas Day<span style="font-style:italic;">I heard the bells on Christmas Day<br />Their old familiar carols play,<br />And wild and sweet the words repeat<br />Of peace on earth, good will to men!<br /><br />I thought how, as the day had come,<br />The belfries of all Christendom<br />Had rolled along the unbroken song<br />Of peace on earth, good will to men!.<br /><br />Till ringing, singing on its way<br />The world revolved from night to day,<br />A voice, a chime, a chant sublime<br />Of peace on earth, good will to men.<br /><br />And in despair I bowed my head:<br />“There is no peace on earth,” I said,<br />“For hate is strong and mocks the song<br />Of peace on earth, good will to men!”<br /><br />Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:<br />“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!<br />The wrong shall fail, the right prevail<br />With peace on earth, good will to men!”<br /><br />Till ringing, singing on its way<br />The world revolved from night to day,<br />A voice, a chime, a chant sublime<br />Of peace on earth, good will to men.</span><br /><br />~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1864Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-91739765839422602742008-12-19T06:48:00.000-08:002008-12-19T06:51:34.163-08:00Jesus, our Emmanuel<span style="font-style:italic;">The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,<br />His hair was like a light.<br />(Oh weary, weary was the world,<br />But here is all alright.)<br /><br />Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child,<br />Make thee bed, soft, undefiled<br />Within my heart, that it may be<br />A quiet chamber, kept for Thee.<br /><br />My heart for very joy does leap<br />My lips no more can silence keep,<br />I must sing with joyful tongue<br />That sweetest ancient cradle song.</span> <br /><br />~G.K. ChestertonKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-85314919373068055682008-12-17T04:19:00.000-08:002008-12-17T04:23:27.577-08:00Son of God, love's pure light<span style="font-style:italic;">Jesus, Lord, we look to thee,<br />On this day of thine own Nativity;<br />Show thyself the Prince of Peace;<br />Bid our jarring conflicts cease. <br />Let us for each other care,<br />Each the other's burden bear,<br />To thy church the pattern give,<br />Show how true believers live. <br />Make us one of heart and mind,<br />Courteous, pitiful, and kind,<br />Lowly, meek in thought and word,<br />Altogether like our Lord.</span><br /><br />~Charles WesleyKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-46024915332189134172008-12-16T13:09:00.000-08:002008-12-16T13:13:03.251-08:00our God is with us<span style="font-style:italic;">For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us;<br />And the government will rest on His shoulders;<br />And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, <br />Mighty God,<br />Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.<br />There will be no end to the increase of His government<br />or of peace,<br />On the throne of David and over his kingdom,<br />To establish it and to uphold it with justice and <br />righteousness<br />From then on and forevermore.<br />The zeal of the Lord of hosts will accomplish this.</span><br /><br />~Isaiah 9:6-7Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-7452167931758761382008-12-14T05:14:00.000-08:002008-12-14T05:17:17.258-08:00until the Son of God appearPrayer for the Third Sunday of Advent:<br /><br />Stir up thy power, O Lord,<br />and with great might come among us;<br />and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins,<br />let thy bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us;<br />through Jesus Christ our Lord,<br />to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost,<br />be honor and glory,<br />world without end.<br />Amen.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-3666785133910524362008-12-13T07:51:00.001-08:002008-12-13T07:55:53.052-08:00a human baby bearing undiminished deity"<span style="font-style:italic;">If Christmas means anything to you, then it must mean everything. It is a beginning and an end. It is a time of darkness and inexpressible light. It is a time of blessed relief at finally seeing all God's promises come true in one person. It is a time of tension as well as we look ahead in the life of this dear little one with a kind of historical omnipresence because we know how it all will end, on earth anyway. As our family gathers around our faint, flickering candle to read the Christmas story, the loneliness of the stable reminds us of the loneliness of another place on a hill outside Jerusalem. The rough trough seems almost as cruel a place as a cross. The infant cries we hear coming from the stable seem no less desperate than His final cry, and no less forsaken</span>". <br /><br />~Michael CardKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-34345221849435387342008-12-12T05:33:00.000-08:002008-12-12T05:40:58.168-08:00a thrill of hopeI'm sorry for my lapse yesterday...the long day provided no time for posting. Hopefully I'll be able to have something here for these last <span style="font-style:italic;">13 days of Advent</span>! I hope that your celebrations have been as meaningful as ours in the SlaughterHouse. For today, a quote from a precious saint:<br /><br />"<span style="font-style:italic;">When I think of Christmas Eves, Christmas feasts, Christmas songs, and Christmas stories, I know that they do not represent a short and transient gladness. Instead, they speak of a joy unspeakable and full of glory. God loved the world and sent His Son. Whosoever believes in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life. That is Christmas joy. That is the Christmas spirit</span>". <br /><br />~Corrie ten BoomKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-83075216132260828772008-12-10T04:44:00.000-08:002008-12-10T04:48:49.448-08:00here we are, as in olden days<span style="font-style:italic;">Every tradition grows ever more venerable -- the more remote its origin, the more confused that origin is. The reverence due to it increases from generation to generation. The tradition finally becomes holy and inspires awe. Is this ill or fine? If the accumulated wisdom and the tested habits of the ages accounts for naught, then surely it is ill. But if such things afford security and sanity, then it is an auger of great good. Sense and sensibility should sway us toward the confident latter and not the impetuous former</span>. <br /><br />~James Gleason ArcherKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-36341201044408402802008-12-09T04:47:00.000-08:002008-12-09T05:03:30.940-08:00a man of God's own choosingDuring the month of November, I taught my kiddos the words to "Come,Ye Thankful People, Come", as one way of preparing our hearts for the celebration of Thanksgiving. They loved it, and still run around the grocery store singing it at the top of their lungs...nice! So for the Advent season I wanted to pick a song that they don't hear as often in our Christmas music (mostly because we listen to John Denver & the Muppets Christmas album and Harry Connick, Jr's 3 masterpieces...but I digress), but also a song that would be "singable" for short folks. I thought that "Come Thou Long-Expected Jesus" was a good choice (and a personal favorite of mine). We sing it before each meal and during our nightly Advent reading, and so far they have memorized the first verse and about 1/2 of the second. Not surprisingly, last night Carrie was singing (uh...yelling?) it loudly in Walmart. Interestingly enough, the Maryland shoppers were less than amused...but I digress again. These are powerful words that Wesley wrote over 250 years ago, inspired by Haggai 2:7, "And I will shake all nations, and the Desire of Nations shall come and I will fill this house with glory". <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Come, Thou long-expected Jesus, <br />Born to set Thy people free;<br />From our fears and sins release us;<br />Let us find our rest in Thee.<br />Israel's Strength and Consolation,<br />Hope of all the earth Thou art;<br />Dear Desire of every nation,<br />Joy of every longing heart.<br /><br />Born Thy people to deliver,<br />Born and child, and yet a King,<br />Born to reign in us forever,<br />Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.<br />By Thine own eternal Spirit<br />Rule in all our hearts alone;<br />By Thine all-sufficient merit<br />Raise us to Thy glorious throne.<br /></span><br />~Charles Wesley, 1744Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-45268669703923772002008-12-08T05:56:00.000-08:002008-12-08T05:58:19.025-08:00who but God would condescend for us?“How can God stoop lower than to come and dwell with a poor humble soul? Which is more than if he had said, such a one should dwell with him; for a beggar to live at court is not so much as the king to dwell with him in his cottage.”<br /><br />~William GurnallKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371452.post-19301688591093836622008-12-07T04:29:00.000-08:002008-12-07T04:33:34.253-08:00God and sinners reconciledPrayer for the Second Sunday of Advent<br /><br />Merciful God,<br />who didst send thy messengers the prophets<br />to preach repentance<br />and prepare the way for our salvation:<br />Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins,<br />that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer;<br />who liveth and reigneth with thee<br />and the Holy Spirit,<br />one God, now and forever.<br />Amen. <br />~from the Book of Common Prayer, 1789Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01928518394072725503noreply@blogger.com0