tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78746780395099335012024-03-14T08:50:21.776-07:00Tiffany, HonestlyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-9691631703848515302014-10-01T16:37:00.003-07:002014-10-01T16:37:21.644-07:00It's In the Small Stuff<br /><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I went to Walmart today. I always park by the cart exchange things so I can throw the kids directly into one... So I'm walking to the cart exchange and was stopped dead in my tracks. Like seriously, I couldn't move. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;"><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Turn around and take her cart."</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Behind me was a woman halfway to her car with a car seat tucked in the front of her cart. She wound up being the car right next to mine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Okay God. I hear you...</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Is it okay if I steal your cart?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Yeah. It'll just take me a minute to unload.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Here, let me help you....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So I helped this girl unload her groceries and was waiting for God to tell me what to do next- because I seriously can never predict Him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I made small talk. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">...Her daughter was cute. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">...She looked great for having an about 5 month old...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have 3. How many do you have? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, I have 3, too. One is with Jesus.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She looked totally taken aback. Like I knew something i couldn't possibly know. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><i>Like i knew her secret.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"I lost one, too. At 20 weeks. I had them put me under to deliver him. I just couldn't be awake and do that... My child after that was born 07.07.07... God's numbers".</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">OKAY LORD. I HEAR YOU!!</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So the groceries were loaded, her daughter was buckled in and my littles were in the cart with Marla impatiently waiting to start heading in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, it was nice meeting you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You, too... </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I cant move.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">God, what do you want me to do?!?</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Listen, I would really love to pray for you. Do you want to exchange numbers?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And it was done. I knew it was done because I could breathe again. I felt like the Holy Spirit had his hands on my shoulders, keeping me in that one place. Sitting on my feet so they couldn't move. And the moment the number was exchanged, she got in her car and my legs were free. If you have ever had a prompting like this, you know exactly what I'm talking about. And if you don't listen, for days all you can think about is what you missed out on while you were too busy focusing on yourself. It's a horrible guilty feeling. I think we miss out on what God really has for us a lot because we are always so busy. Too busy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So there you have it. I may seem small. But so many of God's hugest plans started out so small. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: justify;">God used Moses' <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>stick </b></span>to defeat the armies of Egypt.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: justify;">He used little David to defeat a giant with only a <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>slingsho</b>t </span>and a <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>stone</b></span>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A boy gave Jesus <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>5 loaves of bread and 2 fish</b></span> and Jesus fed 5000 people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Rahab saved her entire family using a <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>red rope</b></span>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Isrealites knocked down a wall by <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>walking</b> </span>around it 7 times and <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>yelling</b></span>, claiming the land God promised them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I can't wait to see what plans God has for the <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>small </i></span>little introduction of two of us today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Friends, we have to stop thinking of ourselves as insignificant and start claiming who we truly are: <span style="color: #741b47;">the Children of God.</span> We carry Jesus' spirit inside of us and therefore we also carry the power and authority of God. We <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>can </b></span>move those mountains we think are too big and we <span style="color: #741b47;"><b>can </b></span>step out on the water and walk with our savior. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jesus says we are worth it. </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Who are we to tell Him He is wrong?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Today I challenge you to believe what Jesus says about you, Beloved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(<i>That's right</i>. He calls you His Beloved one)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; Nothing will harm you Luke 10:19</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Let us therefore come boldy unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in times of need. Hebrews 4:16</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Do you not know that you are a temple of God and that God's spirit lives inside of you ? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">1 Corinthians 3:16</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I do not think it's coincidence that this happened on the first day of October, child loss awareness month. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So I will wait on God and practice being still in His midst so I can hear Him...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Because, Father, I want all that you have for me!!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I hope you will join me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">oXBlessingsXo </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-47704482165618115122014-02-16T08:49:00.001-08:002014-02-16T08:49:48.895-08:00Everyday should be Valentine's Day : A letter to my girls<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #e06666;">So KLOVE, the Christian radio around my parts, had a pretty big segment of Valentine's Day about how the divorce rate in the church is now pretty equal to that of the "general society". This breaks my heart because the one thing that the Church is supposed to stand it's strongest on is love... Christ is Love sent to us and we're supposed to be love sent to each other, especially our spouses. This whole thing makes my eyes water just thinking about it. But really, it's a topic for another day, because then my mind went in a completely different direction. My daughters. My daughters are going to grow up in a time where love and marriage are thought as even less sacred than they are thought of now... </span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">So the only one left to teach them about love is me and daddy.</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #e06666;">That's a gift, but a scary and heavy one. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"></span>My dearest most loved and precious daughters,</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #e06666;">I am your living example now, and hope someday my letters and this blog will inspire you as the powerful and loving women you are to love even harder in this life than I know you already will....</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #e06666;">So for now, girls... </span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">How I grew up I was always unsure about love. I lived in a house where "I love yous" were almost never used except written in a birthday card. I grew up in a broken home and watched my parents "love" each other in cruel and sometimes violent ways. I grew up fantasizing about love through TV shows and croony sappy love songs. I grew up being used by men much older than me for things I just didn't understand back then. I grew up without Jesus and the understanding of how precious I was or how sacred the depths of my heart were, so I just would give it all away. I grew up learning that love was found in tangible things, things money bought. I grew up with the belief that showing love meant you were weak. Being vulnerable to someone meant you were small couldn't make it on your own. I grew up, really, thinking that love was wrong and that if it was 'right', I must've been completely unworthy of it. So I gave up.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">Until I met Jesus who led me (eventually) to your daddy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">When daddy and I first found out we were having a baby, I was so scared. Marlaina, I was scared out of my mind that you would grow up feeling the lack of worth I felt growing up. I wasn't scared that I wouldn't love you. Believe me, from the moment I found out you were coming, I was overcome by my love for you. I was feeling feelings I had never felt before and I didn't know what to do with them. I was scared that even though I loved you like no other, I would still fail you because I was unsure of how to express those feelings. I wondered if this was my mom's struggle. I never really talked with anyone about these feelings except for your daddy and God, because I was scared of other people watching me be a mommy. I spent hours, probably days, weeks, praying God would be refining things in me, teaching me how to love more like Him, walking me through my pregnancy and making my rattling nerves still. And he did - He used your daddy to do it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">Ladies, your daddy is my hero. In the beginning of our relationship, I probably seemed like the strong one. The prayful one. The one with all the crazy life experience that aged me to 50 when I was 17. But I wasn't. I thought that whole time that I was almost "coaching" your dad out of a pit he was in, that I was the "together" one. When daddy and I started out, I loved your dad with a passion so strong that people thought we were insane. Seriously. You couldn't separate us for but two seconds, maybe. The moment we met, a fire lit that no one could contain. It was amazing. It was the most intense thing I have ever felt. I am crazy about your father. But that whole thing about me being the "together" one, that's just not the truth. God was using your precious father to transform my heart in ways I never thought possible. The Lord was using your daddy as a sort of tangible teacher to unlock the greatest mystery of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">What is true love? What's it look like? Feel like? Talk like? Touch like?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">I wasn't always the nicest little lady to be around for dad. I got pregnant early in our relationship, hormones kicked in, I got fat, I got miserable, I got depressed. I believe this was all part of God's incredible plan for before you got here (and for me and daddy's relationship) because I got to witness the most incredible thing. Your dad loved me right through all my miserable days. He brought me flowers, He opened my door. He left me love notes everywhere. He worked all day and then came home and rubbed <i>my </i>back. He spent so much time trying to make the apartments we skipped from perfect for me - painting, laying down carpets, mowing lawns, fixing my vehicle in the freezing cold while I was warm inside watching movies, telling me I was beautiful when I know I looked like more of a swamp monster or something, defending my sometimes craziness to other people, listening to music I love that he hates, watching chick flicks, always holding my hand, and always reminding me he loved me and what that love felt like for him... Your dad fought the good fight for me. He never gave up on your mommy who just didn't understand this love thing. I remember one night sitting in our dining room just sobbing to him because I felt like I could never love him like he loved me. I would try. I would full force love your daddy, and then screw it up somehow. My mind is racing with memories now and it's making me lose direction in my writing (I'm sure you understand that about me)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"> Marla, when you were finally born, everything came full circle. Don't get me wrong, I've still got my "days". But everything finally made sense, and I got the best gift in the whole universe - my little family. We've now had your brother, who opened my eyes to love even more in indescribable ways, and your sister who I am five months expecting right now, who I am over the moon about. </span><br /><span style="color: #e06666;">I want you to know these things
about me and daddy because <b>love is hard</b>. You are going to grow up in a
world where loving others is even harder than it is now. But you've got to fight the
love fight even harder than it's fighting you. This world doesn't know
the love of Jesus. My precious girls, that's the only love that works. Pray with
your man. Pray for your man. Pray for your man before he even is your
man, before you even know him! Always go the extra distance to show your man that you love him more than yourself. It may be a pain sometimes. You may have a screaming baby that you're trying to change and the dishes may be piling up and the house may look like a tornado went through it when you just cleaned an hour ago, but your man is still going to walk through that door home to you after work - So take that extra few seconds and meet him with a hug. Do not let the craziness of life steal that few seconds of bliss and relief that only his entrance through that door creates. Let him know you value him and appreciate all his hard work. Let him know that no other person on the earth could take his place, ever. Let him know that he is the most peaceful voice you've heard all day and it stays in your mind when he leaves and makes crazy moments not so crazy. Let him know how much you miss him all day long and how lucky your are to be his bride. Let him know that his smile is the most gorgeous you've ever seen, and no happy moment in your life would be complete without it. Let him know that without him, you'd be nothing but a hollow heart, just like I would be with out your daddy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">I love you, Marlaina and my little Bean without a name yet.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">And hope when you begin your love journey with your husbands, you can look back at me and daddy and remember our love fight and want we what have. I hope we taught you well how to love though the good, and fight for your love though the shaky and rocky times. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">We love you unendingly and pray you find a love fight like ours.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;">Love, your mommy.</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-16246599481966367242014-02-03T16:39:00.000-08:002014-02-03T16:39:55.136-08:00It's A Wonderful Life<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">On Sunday, my Robbie and I celebrated our three year anniversary from the night we committed our little selves to each other, our first date.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Card I made Robbie</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">They say slow and steady wins the race, but our story is anything but those adjectives. From the moment our eyes met (Rob stalked me for about month at my work place) to the night I finally <i>gave him <b>my</b></i><b> </b>number, to our first date... Things seriously never slowed down. In fact, as we got closer, the more fast things sped up! I can only blame this on the fact that from our very first conversation, I knew and God told me that that blue eyed handsome boy would someday be my husband... And I was totally okay with that.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Three years later, a wedding late, three kids later, numerous apartments later, and a billion I love yous later, he still stands as my absolute everything and the hero that saved this girl form herself. I'm pretty sure we saved each other, scooped up at the same time by the hand of God and knitting our lives into one. My husband is so precious to me.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMSQMOZfK85p3mKSodteJlMg39Bh8kLuPsOyswawSkxTNoJ039pmoZ0bPZeTYq8gOgSmYpUrkGVKw-oM3X8AuBe2-YaMbeiYsxqiwMHLVs6npYgXOUqUSPu6IXHOO_KrTHzJrsDQSMVc/s1600/RobboandI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMSQMOZfK85p3mKSodteJlMg39Bh8kLuPsOyswawSkxTNoJ039pmoZ0bPZeTYq8gOgSmYpUrkGVKw-oM3X8AuBe2-YaMbeiYsxqiwMHLVs6npYgXOUqUSPu6IXHOO_KrTHzJrsDQSMVc/s1600/RobboandI.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">One of our first dates. An Eric Church concert. We almost died that night. Seriously. There was a mattress laying in the middle of our side of the road... Rob swerved between a telephone pole and the mattress... If I could say I hadn't fallen for him already, that would've been the moment! </span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> I wish I had taken pictures of our anniversary date night, but I totally forgot.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Our first night out with no Marla in awhile, it was a great time alone.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8108SqtfWaUzTuKrnzFSE0AYnI4eFDcsPnRnvnKk9QZoI4UQd-wdLukhgowjK-9_GXHQcVtWE9Rexri4rasdMVwVD-2d5Zpt0v2nzcFOAZQuvyxpDZIkGgCAv8RKFslsetFhZOGcxua4/s1600/RobbieandI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8108SqtfWaUzTuKrnzFSE0AYnI4eFDcsPnRnvnKk9QZoI4UQd-wdLukhgowjK-9_GXHQcVtWE9Rexri4rasdMVwVD-2d5Zpt0v2nzcFOAZQuvyxpDZIkGgCAv8RKFslsetFhZOGcxua4/s1600/RobbieandI.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">My knight in shiny armor...</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Also exciting, we are pushing and pulling ourselves more and more toward the finish line. We hit a very celebrated and tearful milestone a week ago. Our little bundle of girl made it passed a great statistic she was given - about a 50% chance of surviving past 17 weeks</span></span></span>.</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;">We are 18 weeks strong today with an appointment on Wednesday.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Now off I go to one of my favorite chores... Laundry.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #e06666;">The literal "cycle" that never ends...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #e06666;"> Blessings!!! </span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-8926371139889259262014-01-14T09:18:00.000-08:002014-01-14T09:18:02.157-08:00Back For Good<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My
last post was months ago, and I have been wanting so badly to hop back on
here. So, my husband and I finally got the internet installed in our home. I am <span style="color: #c27ba0;"><i>slowly </i></span>catching up to normal society technologically and <span style="color: #c27ba0;"><i>even more</i> slowly</span>, it seems, leaving the Flinstone world behind...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I guess some catching up is necessary. My last post was a tear-filled one, shortly after losing our son. Since then, a lot has happened...</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #e06666;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">- I
started working as a wrap around nanny for a family close by, which is
made interesting because amongst their "normal" 13 yo boy, 11 yo boy and
5 yo girl, there's also an 8 yo down syndrome boy. So I'm always on my
toes, but it seems to be working out well on both sides.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">-I began writing a book, sort of a devotional, targeted mainly toward women with my uterine complications who have miscarried on how to keep living life through the strength of Christ, even when some days it's just hard to even get out of bed. I'm pretty excited about it, as I have dreamed of being an author since I was very very small. The book won't be able to be finished until after this new baby is born. The last chapters will be about continuing to heal during pregnancy and while having the newborn. That may sound strange or even cold, but really - when I think about holding a newborn in my arms, especially a little boy, I immediately break down. It is a heavy thing and scary! I know giving birth to this child is going to bring up <b>a lot</b> for me, and as <i>not normal</i> of a person I am, I know these feelings have got to be normal, but dealing with them is <u>challenging</u>. I just never want my son's legacy or what he brought to my family to be forgotten, but him being only a little 16 week "fetus" makes believing he won't be forgotten a huge challenge for me... I know I will never forget him, but I just wish and hope he made even a fraction of the huge impact he had on my life on other peoples' lives. Because his life and death were profound and pivotal in my own life. I hope this book transforms the hearts of families who have lost their precious babies, and enables them to delve <b>even deeper</b> into a love relationship with Christ.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKExJdv9JeJqsMLPKeVdxRqbWF3NGd5N2MRXm7s73dAMUpgTYPTn-pSZm-A3icZahavUVYJZIjlt_61a-35qot-ngIsKnzg_aZTEztuC5PQa-KO8fvarSlqEN1sXTk0oozHKZtjDFIEKo/s1600/preg+test.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKExJdv9JeJqsMLPKeVdxRqbWF3NGd5N2MRXm7s73dAMUpgTYPTn-pSZm-A3icZahavUVYJZIjlt_61a-35qot-ngIsKnzg_aZTEztuC5PQa-KO8fvarSlqEN1sXTk0oozHKZtjDFIEKo/s320/preg+test.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Me and Marla celebrating</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">-Rob and I found out we are pregnant again on November 1st!! We are beyond excited. I don't think I've ever jumped so high as when I saw that extra line on the pregnancy test! I am now two weeks into my second trimester and it's been a rocky but blessed road so far... </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Cute little piggies!!</span></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;">The Bean, 3 1/2 inches long, 3 little ounces. </span></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;"><b>(13 weeks gestation)</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;">- Rob and I visited a specialist, who we now see every two weeks, and discovered I have uterine conditions a little "worse" than what we thought. So, along with see our tiny little Bean for a second ultrasound a little while back, we also learned I have what's called a "septate uterus". He determined that Nathaniel (our son that passed) was on the right side, which is what created his demise, and that this baby is also implanted on my right. My daughter, who is two now, made her home on my left side. Little did we know then what a mighty <span style="color: #d5a6bd;"><b><u>miracle</u> </b></span>she really is.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNu9bICXRFsA0BxL0OcW6NOM1vL_TKDnlnf0JcLGvEKX4nmJ2cChAzPopSokPK8Jp_oJp7iEfkNYHQ4tXkdR4U_R6nWWsvqBkjuJ3yoQVPdtmzsceSLIP8Z-VL6-prL-_08WoMOvjXIKA/s1600/pic-normal-uterus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="97" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNu9bICXRFsA0BxL0OcW6NOM1vL_TKDnlnf0JcLGvEKX4nmJ2cChAzPopSokPK8Jp_oJp7iEfkNYHQ4tXkdR4U_R6nWWsvqBkjuJ3yoQVPdtmzsceSLIP8Z-VL6-prL-_08WoMOvjXIKA/s320/pic-normal-uterus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">See the pretty uterus on the left? That's a normal one. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">See the pretty one on the right ? That's mine. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Except the septum in the middle comes down lower for me. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So we were thrown into scientific statistics, basically telling us our baby had about a 50/50 chance of survival until we hit the 17 week mark. Then we drop off to a 30% survival chance until we hit 24 weeks. And if all goes well until then, I am placed in a sweet little 45% chance of preterm delivery from 25 to 39 weeks. Of course this news brought up a whole lot for me and my poor husband, but we are Believers and daily choose not to be afraid. I do have my moments, and have had some scares so far, but I think that's part of being flesh and blood, and our fears give God room to move in our lives and prove, once again, that we really don't have to fear. He brings us peace everyday and everyday it gets easier to not think about it every second. We are standing on the solid rock of the Lord's promises!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">-My baby girl turned two shortly after Christmas. We won't even go there. I just can't believe how time has flown. <i>Really</i>, it's out of control... I'm glad she still cuddles up or my heart would totally be broken by her growing so fast. Haha.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #e06666;">My beautiful girl, Marlaina Celestina</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;"><br />It sure has felt like my life has been a whole lot crazier than this lately, but this sums it up pretty much. Feel free to keep my family in your prayers and wait in anticipation with us for the miraculous delivery of our healthy sweet new baby. We seriously<span style="color: #d5a6bd;"> <b>CAN NOT</b></span> wait!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;">I'll be back a whole lot sooner now than the last time I left!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #c27ba0;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">ox</span>Blessings<span style="font-size: xx-small;">xo</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-67260175099801308442013-10-26T15:09:00.000-07:002013-10-26T15:46:36.406-07:00Let Me Take You On A Journey....<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hi, everyone! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today we went and picked Marla's "munkins" on for Halloween carving adventures. It was faaaareeezing, so bundled in snow pants, hats, and mittens she went. The cold didn't</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">seem to bother her half as much as me, but we had that horrible misty rain as well. I wish I had pictures to share, but I'm on my mother's computer so you will have to wait! And I wish it would've been warmer,because even in the the cold and rain she had a blast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Okay. Time to get <b>heavy</b>. Time for a trip through my brain lately...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Caution: I have been emotional and I just can't stop thinking, thinking, thinking....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Very very soon my brother in law will be welcoming home their newest bundle of joy. A sweet little girl. Two Junes ago, they lost their precious son, so I am over the moon excited for them to take home a happy healthy baby and get to experience those fun first weeks of no sleep and delightfin diaper changes of moosh. Hehe. But really, I couldn't be happier or more excited for them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As you know, Me and my hubby also lost our son this April. My brother in law and his wife will be delivering in Lockport, where I painfully delivered our lifeless son. The same place me and my husband walked out of the front door to be never the same again...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am by no means a selfish person. I love helping other and seeing others smiles, most times ahead of my own... I know that's the way God calls us to be. But friends... As we joyfully anticipate the birth of their little girl, Violet, my heart skips beats just thinking about being in that hospital. I want to be there. I will be there. God will be my strength. But I just have to be honest... I am freaking out inside! Every time I think about it or try and "practice" being strong or try to envision them in their little maternity room, I have these out of body experiences where I'm just staring across the hall into the room where I began the grieving of my son (Yes, I delivered Nathaniel next to woman birthing healthy happy bundles of joy. As I listened to their baby's precious cries, the only crying that came from my room was my own). The room where part of me was carried up to Heaven with him, and left an empty space inside of me. Now don't be mistaken. My room was filled up the the ceiling with the Holy Spirit. God was so real you could almost tangibly touch him for those seven hours... But when everyone left, Rob and I were just two broken parents trying to help each other stand up from that hospital bed and hand our tiny son over to strangers in blue scrubs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Two thoughts I remind my self daily...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">1. God alone is my strength and salvation and I can do all things through Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">2. There is not two people on this earth that understand the things I'm feeling now more than Tony and Vanessa do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">October is baby loss and miscarriage awareness month, which makes me think of my boy even more. I have not cried so hard or shouted at God with such sadness than I have lately since we lost him in April.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You see, I'm the "crazy Christian girl" around town and my family, so because of my faith, I have been able to grieve in pretty healthy ways and have jumped right into helping other people. But being a believer is sad and lonely and frustrating sometimes, and you'd be lieing if you didn't agree.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The not so nice thing about being a believer is that sometimes people think you're invincible or that you don't hurt. But I hurt as great as any grieving mother, I just have the hope of seeing my baby again, someday. When I lost him, I was so confused that after only a couple days the phone calls stopped but a rare couple of people and I was left alone, trying to smile in front of my daughter when I really just wanted to burt my face in the floor and scream. My husband worked ninety hour weeks and slept out of his truck at his jobs and I paced the house all night crying and yelling as my daughter slept. I have never felt so close to god yet sot trapped by satan in my life. I never want to go back to that place again. Going back to that place would be a CHOICE, which is why I'm writing this now...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I rarely present my greatest struggles publicly. I was trained not to as a child and now as an adult, I most often keep them with God.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But I'm asking for prayer. For both Vanessa and me. Because I know as happy as they are, they still lost their baby, too...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am so honored to have the testimony I have, but some days I just have to cry a little.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think that's good for anybody, whatever the circumstance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And if we don't be honest with each other and stand strong with each other as the body of Christ than how can we call ourselves believers? How can we claim to love God if we can't love each other first??</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So as I cry in my healing brokenness, I'm also shedding tears for every other mother who knows these same feelings... I will stand in the love of Jesus at that hospital in expectation of Violet's pure beauty <b>and</b> in remembrance of my son.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And please pray for an easy delivery for Vanessa as our family waits for little Violet.</span><br />
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<br />And I must end on a happy note, because that's just who I am...<br />
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I cannot wait to hug this one nurse in particular. This beautiful and brave women stood at my side as they painfully scraped away Nathaniel's placenta from my uterus. She held my hand and told me how strong and brave I was, while I was thinking the exact same thing as her. She was the strong and brave one. She was a complete stranger but she supported me more deeply than some of my own family. She made me laugh when the tears wouldn't stop rolling off my cheeks. I cannot wait to see her. Maybe I should make her something...<br />
And I know this is getting very long, but I have to tell you that as ugly as the past I came out of is, none of it compares to losing my boy. But nothing in my life today is more beautiful and true than the grace and understand of my Heavenly Father, the love my husband has for me, the giggles I bring my sweet little angel daughter, and the presence of my son hovering over me every single day.<br />
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Blessings <3Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-53323127928580080682013-10-21T06:05:00.001-07:002013-10-21T06:05:52.604-07:00Greetings From The Stone Age<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I know most people probably stopped popping into my blog because I haven't been posting, but I thought I would update a teeny bit.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I have been a stay at home mom for nearly two years, and have loved every second and am so grateful my husband worked his toosh off so I could do that.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">About a month ago, I joined the work force again. I took up a nanny position for a family a little down the road. I absolutely love it. I love being around children, because I believe the spirit of a child is the closest on Earth to the Spirit of God (although His spirit does abide in us!). So I have four precious children I care for before and after school and thank God they've taken up a love for me... But really, who wouldn't be able to do that ? Haha.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">That being said, I will have running internet in my home very very soon and will be able to fill your eyes to the brim with my oh so interesting life. I'm pretty excited about blogging. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My greatest reasons for wanting to blog are forming friendships, the chance for my daughter to get to know me on such a deep level (when the time comes) and be able to have my "diary" when I pass away for her own children as well, and to reach out to hurting women through my faith in Jesus and be His messenger to spread healing and bring peace where brokenness lives...</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So shortly I will be joining up with you in the bloggy world for good.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ta ta for now...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">On a side note - </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">October is baby loss and miscarriage awareness month.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Please reach out and pray for these mothers, fathers and families!!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-79501353035616063662013-07-22T16:32:00.001-07:002013-07-22T16:32:18.408-07:00Whatta Weekend!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To start the weekend, my mom took Marla and Rob worked a night shift, so home alone I was, which I hate, but I decided to make the best of it. <b><span style="color: #e06666;">Crafting and food</span></b>. Doesn't get too much better!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At the top of cuppycake toppers I made for my dad's wedding this weekend. I've got an order of almost <b>200 </b>to do! I'll be sure to post the finished products. I think I'm going to make a bunting to go around the cup cake tiers out of these same little flags. If you aren't a fan of a lace and a distress pad, you probably won't enjoy my stuff :) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I made a stuffed crust bacon and asparagus pizza, which was awesome. No red sauce, just olive oil, garlic, and cheese.. <span style="color: #ea9999;">Mmmm</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The bottom right is the little birdie I dolled up. He lives on our bathroom door now, so when you walk into the bathroom you are greeted with the words " <b><span style="color: #a64d79;">You are just lovely!</span></b>". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Now, what folks like us call "<i>romantic</i>"...</span> </b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYQ7lmd6Kl5TfGeL0aJTuG9LzC6pYhXB1wOgSfLUalt3T_HqysPS-q7yc3Tg4wz4CujIKxSolkydrsswlUI_3hzBwFJ7gnBBaqRAA6p9lGXno40q5u133k_hJW2wLd-cH3vnK7ggoEz8/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYQ7lmd6Kl5TfGeL0aJTuG9LzC6pYhXB1wOgSfLUalt3T_HqysPS-q7yc3Tg4wz4CujIKxSolkydrsswlUI_3hzBwFJ7gnBBaqRAA6p9lGXno40q5u133k_hJW2wLd-cH3vnK7ggoEz8/s400/PicMonkey+Collage2.jpg" width="391" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This would be me and my handsome hubby. Those are big ole noise cancelers on his head. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">First we went to the junk yard in pursuit of a transmission for the truck Rob's building. On the right you can see him standing on top of a truck hood in a mess of poor torn up vehicles. It was my first time at a junk yard and besides an encounter with bees, we had a good time! We found this old '88 Ranger (third down on the right) and I decided I needed the tailgate. Now my hubby and I are going to make a bench out of her!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Last picture down is of the tractor pulls we went to. Are some of you confused right now ? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #e06666;"><b>A...<i>tractor pull </i>?</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This is a huge event here in the Orleans County. Lots of tractors and trucks get together to see who can pull the most weight the furthest. We double dated with a good friend of Rob's whose truck was actually pulling that day, which was neat because I've actually drove the truck myself.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNlLT6ytjjHvv9p0SKSuVpkeK5qIqZ_asfhoCgFYWQdtn0dtA-niJRZwvKt3Z7zjKqDU4NA_sg1rBWdmKe3b7B_a7c1czesjWuibFxhC0C7ncI6wKO4vcPACAIV6jFCw-DoI4cJ7FBvg/s1600/100_2307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNlLT6ytjjHvv9p0SKSuVpkeK5qIqZ_asfhoCgFYWQdtn0dtA-niJRZwvKt3Z7zjKqDU4NA_sg1rBWdmKe3b7B_a7c1czesjWuibFxhC0C7ncI6wKO4vcPACAIV6jFCw-DoI4cJ7FBvg/s320/100_2307.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Please excuse my husband's hands... Ay yi yi.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the way home I decided to do something I rarely ever do - <b><span style="color: #e06666;">IMPULSE BUY! </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We stopped off at an antique shop where I spotted the cutest little wicker chair. Like, the kind of cute where you almost cry because you need it <b><span style="color: #4c1130;">SO BAD!</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I did my first ever wheel and deal all by my little self. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">(My hubby usually does this for me).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The purchase ? The wicker chair, of course, an antique birdcage with it's own stand, and two adorable chippy white iron antique ice cream shoppe chairs. I'll show you the wicker chair, but I need to re-upholster the chairs and paint the bird cage and stand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then I'll post before and afters.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xQiBKbT-szEiJClCustxvKOdxdF-SbRzWJhWYg5lltBSSdSMI9h9jwXVekdaCRUve_LXswZiHc3WRnA9sppdmIXPGs-CZeZIX-l_UEbxMx5mVUDRgumjmUOUBc3LtWVKsxxY0anqA6U/s1600/100_2310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xQiBKbT-szEiJClCustxvKOdxdF-SbRzWJhWYg5lltBSSdSMI9h9jwXVekdaCRUve_LXswZiHc3WRnA9sppdmIXPGs-CZeZIX-l_UEbxMx5mVUDRgumjmUOUBc3LtWVKsxxY0anqA6U/s320/100_2310.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She did not want to sit pretty for me, so this was the best we could get. Haha. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She can be quite a stinker sometimes! I <i>wish </i>I could fit in that cute little chair!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We ran into this BBQ joint set up in a trailer on the side of the road and there was this little girl dancing in the road with a pig hat. She was adorable. So we had to stop - and the food ended up being <i>really </i>good! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We got pulled pork sliders. Pulled pork is one of my favorites.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The next day we went to my dad's for food and some gun shooting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: large;">Okay, I am so sorry that I sound like a complete red neck in this post! I'm really not this bad!!</span><span style="font-size: large;"> I swear!!!</span></span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsy8gpXmp5qqqhXPOJldepKEefNUu5ukknn8WydEg8Hr1BYDMkodxKVLMJzJChtnSp4X6YCUru4Ccm1MTD47ZPluLs0vU6ghuvW137kDMPUW1UqJEhMato_RZUUzSL8OQdkhecj1Pp6U/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsy8gpXmp5qqqhXPOJldepKEefNUu5ukknn8WydEg8Hr1BYDMkodxKVLMJzJChtnSp4X6YCUru4Ccm1MTD47ZPluLs0vU6ghuvW137kDMPUW1UqJEhMato_RZUUzSL8OQdkhecj1Pp6U/s400/PicMonkey+Collage33.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I did shoot and believe it or not, I did hit the target. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><b><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I know. I surprised myself! </span></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I like taking Marla over to my dad's because it's like reliving some of my best childhood memories - eating venison, shooting guns and the outdoors. Marlaina is obsessed with anything outdoors. She can't get enough of it. My dad's fiance gave her not one but two ice cream cups today while we were outside so she was truly in all her glory. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My little best friend. She just cracks me up....</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I hope everyone enjoyed their weekends as much as I did! Now for a busy week preparing lots of tent bunting and cupcakes for my dads wedding. I'm pretty excited to see some family I haven't seen in almost ten years! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: large;">Love & Prayer!!</span></span></b></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-19377332194808878652013-07-18T08:38:00.001-07:002013-07-18T08:38:29.875-07:00Hot As The Dickens!!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Well, you know it's bad when your a meesly 22 years old and have to grunt and moan just to get to a standing position! Our central air decided we didn't need her anymore two days ago, so my hubby went out and got us some fans. We're doing our best trying to stay cool, but poor Rob is working a lot of night shifts so he sleeps from 7am-about 4pm. It doesn't seem to bother him as much as it does me when I watch him sleeping in bed in the middle of the day in this heat. (You have to have windows open to circulate air, so I can't even make it dark for him) My poor hubadub... But he takes it with a grin and that's one of the reason I love him.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: Georgia;"><strong><em>Lord knows I'm laying in a puddle at midnight when it's even somewhat cooler!</em></strong></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzlDX9EiwFN1NejSqp8zR19QV1LQfGKIOPb0Gn4Nxof7qgAtmaj3Cxrue2tLRalRUdvAbOTYErGJ0KiMmuN_xxZHbsuSXkH09wCfK8OIJpKzuWZCdLIJP2kysLiLxXiQnFy6N9aG1XQI/s1600/marrob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" iya="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzlDX9EiwFN1NejSqp8zR19QV1LQfGKIOPb0Gn4Nxof7qgAtmaj3Cxrue2tLRalRUdvAbOTYErGJ0KiMmuN_xxZHbsuSXkH09wCfK8OIJpKzuWZCdLIJP2kysLiLxXiQnFy6N9aG1XQI/s320/marrob.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyvnRZZh3bh_dtnIEjZpy2sxQPa87JbxWzMtSdjvHwVRkzl3prl1ikAoKp8eQBwy7XzaSd3VItLfYE8ZpJNNNt118qgp0gNA2bcoh4EMJ7HV1H1hGCRWDuSR96eb4SKwHhxmAn-BXHZn8/s1600/robmar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" iya="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyvnRZZh3bh_dtnIEjZpy2sxQPa87JbxWzMtSdjvHwVRkzl3prl1ikAoKp8eQBwy7XzaSd3VItLfYE8ZpJNNNt118qgp0gNA2bcoh4EMJ7HV1H1hGCRWDuSR96eb4SKwHhxmAn-BXHZn8/s320/robmar.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Marla is obsessed with the cows in our backyard. For the longest time she was convinced they were "doggies" and she would bark at them! The "doggies" are now recognized as cows to her, and she enjoys mooooo-ing at them way more than she ever liked barking. Probably because they<span style="color: #ea9999;"><strong> </strong><em><strong>respond back</strong></em></span> with a "<strong><span style="color: #e06666;">MOO</span></strong>", right ? Haha!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8cVJNBU0oGENsRQsyWKkArOHfabLnmV7NeCEhDWR513FU-y0UHGktoF6edKkypWO7z5vW7sQ1hS8cYZo1g8EX_tMxEnTw5mZseJ94gqWAWovNMvNmj4XUzAtp8YT_LGY-65dfjFfaqhc/s1600/mar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" iya="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8cVJNBU0oGENsRQsyWKkArOHfabLnmV7NeCEhDWR513FU-y0UHGktoF6edKkypWO7z5vW7sQ1hS8cYZo1g8EX_tMxEnTw5mZseJ94gqWAWovNMvNmj4XUzAtp8YT_LGY-65dfjFfaqhc/s320/mar.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: black;">You should hear my husband make fun of me as I run around chasing my daughter to catch a decent picture of her. I guess I understand his laughing, because both of my moms do the same thing as I do and we all laugh at eachother, understanding the frustrations of trying to "capture of toddler". Ha! Most of the time, I have to sit far off and have my camera on</span> <strong><span style="color: #e06666;">ZOOM</span></strong><span style="color: black;"> so she doesn't see me trying to take a shot of her! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: black;"><strong><u>Ergh</u></strong>! Just like her father! </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The picture above is of her playing, while I sat on the couch like hidden poparazzi. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">(That word is spelled so funny! Yes, I had to look it up.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Today marks grocery day. I dread grocery day when my husband is working nights because I have to be back home by 4 to give him the car, and shopping takes me sooo long! I'm so indecisive. "I want to save the money... But is this item good in off-brand? I guess I'll try it. No I won't..." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: black;">Another eye brow scrunching factor is my husband only eats certain things. I can't tell you when the last time I ate a green pepper or a pickle was. But today, that is all changing! I found this recipe for chicken salad stuffed green peppers and I <u>must</u> make it!<span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>(I'll just serve up some cake that night to make up for the "nasty" peppers. Heehee)</em></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I traveled 45 minutes to my mother's house so I could plop Marla with her while I venture to the store. So Marla will be happy to get a dunk in the pool. I think so will her Gramma who is a puddle from delivering mail all day..</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">SOOO before I leave I <strong>must</strong> tell you...</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I was letting my sweet princess swim around in a cool water bath last night while I cleaned nearby. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I look up into the tub from the floor and there it was...</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She had pooped in the tub and was mashing it with her feet trying to get away from it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Never <u>ever</u> a dull moment. Really, I mean ever!</strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">Be blessed, everyone! Love & prayer!</span></strong></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-39334467807161140382013-07-17T10:30:00.003-07:002013-07-17T10:34:34.600-07:00A Date With Gramma Issa<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As much as me and my ma bicker, I do love when she comes out for surprise visits. I know Marla does too, because it always mean new gifts or clothes. She is one spoiled little girl by her grammies! Marla was really excited when we found her cousin Abby in the backseat!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Abby just thinks she's nuts! </b></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKNb02pMn70vjwBWwpSH_Oi9b6V5KHqLB8rO8ocvTn7CCggl31YqBdXKNigz2B-SAlJXh1AI_xdbe1udi12gxkIAbAoku-b1X4FF099J28S6PME7AV39TJijKKi7y5eAHVwFtrfhlPWY/s1600/100_2179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKNb02pMn70vjwBWwpSH_Oi9b6V5KHqLB8rO8ocvTn7CCggl31YqBdXKNigz2B-SAlJXh1AI_xdbe1udi12gxkIAbAoku-b1X4FF099J28S6PME7AV39TJijKKi7y5eAHVwFtrfhlPWY/s320/100_2179.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At Olive Garden, we got asked if they were twins! Abby is my Aunt's daughter, who is five years older than me. Our daughters are three months apart and they are a handful together, just like me and Abby's mommy used to be!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXNhb_lZe8Zlz9bJVxEyLlpG9b02zXI5znwg6mky5Qk2kfyl2oLc1FA-BKiIvYr8PlWHuaB1pFMw0vpBTYtP114tJ8PVBdyoFzlQIPNeyG5v8o2GLHbqqzRrBDK2vsLeYryhNCCszLUc/s1600/ABANDMAR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXNhb_lZe8Zlz9bJVxEyLlpG9b02zXI5znwg6mky5Qk2kfyl2oLc1FA-BKiIvYr8PlWHuaB1pFMw0vpBTYtP114tJ8PVBdyoFzlQIPNeyG5v8o2GLHbqqzRrBDK2vsLeYryhNCCszLUc/s400/ABANDMAR.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Our Pier 1 adventure...</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYG6REyxRgFNxd1v84ChL3GUTX33c-gddcHXtEhvu-GzxiGhhU81zrDMcJC8i2WYCOpOzeZ-s2UsEVcz3BMNU2afZYORLAR387d2X2NvqBU0769WQYADmG0L7-t9146GiY-BRfzZAKOYw/s1600/MAKS!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYG6REyxRgFNxd1v84ChL3GUTX33c-gddcHXtEhvu-GzxiGhhU81zrDMcJC8i2WYCOpOzeZ-s2UsEVcz3BMNU2afZYORLAR387d2X2NvqBU0769WQYADmG0L7-t9146GiY-BRfzZAKOYw/s400/MAKS!.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> These masks were <span style="color: #ea9999;"><b>adorable</b></span>! But more expensive than adorable. I'd much rather make my own! We had lots of fun with them, though! It would've been so much fun to have a masquerade wedding! I should use that theme for Marla's next birthday...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Below are my mom, sister, and me. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WcEhMOsinixl8N2vn905rguOeZ_vOOMJBPtdhgk1dxDwEq9UXtVrMM3zkkoJHqTfYQdLufmW0dLn8p2matFdUmLmGOUBew8vv3dT79spEHVDTdReEvF09dd7gqLob1CNMR5fAMYeCOY/s1600/MOMANDME.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WcEhMOsinixl8N2vn905rguOeZ_vOOMJBPtdhgk1dxDwEq9UXtVrMM3zkkoJHqTfYQdLufmW0dLn8p2matFdUmLmGOUBew8vv3dT79spEHVDTdReEvF09dd7gqLob1CNMR5fAMYeCOY/s400/MOMANDME.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Seeing Marla with her cousins really makes me want another. I guess God will make it happen when it's supposed to. In the meantime, cousin love is surely second best!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoy the weather!</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-82853864518831050862013-07-17T10:08:00.001-07:002013-07-17T10:08:40.483-07:00A Date With Grammie Pie<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A few days ago, Marla and I went out on the town with her Grammie and cousin Torry. You may know Marla's Grammie as blog - Viv Out On A Whim. It wasn't until I met my mother in law that I really began discovering who I was. I really enjoy spending time with her, so off we went, babies in the backseat.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That sure would be my daughter sticking her tongue out at Little Torry! </span></div>
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They were so funny. One would start to laugh and it would bring the other to start laughing, and they couldn't stop! (Neither could me and my mom in law, Viv) We went to HomeGoods, Christmas Tree Shoppe, and Barnes and Noble. It was all we could fit in with the kiddos. We capped off the day with a little Panera's.<br />
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The way home pictures are probably my favorite. Nothing better than a konked out baby!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPD2sVWQDbaNrJc4yikjKu1BUG2fUOl91jWPdFWQ8P5Cdz7eAuF3BbXeFjafdP1vneiq1NqDpFf7MNHcaloEma0xn3zJvvUL_-tu7zAYlYOXaj-AWsVpi4JzIj2UhbozwYhGULAYpCzZw/s1600/100_2089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPD2sVWQDbaNrJc4yikjKu1BUG2fUOl91jWPdFWQ8P5Cdz7eAuF3BbXeFjafdP1vneiq1NqDpFf7MNHcaloEma0xn3zJvvUL_-tu7zAYlYOXaj-AWsVpi4JzIj2UhbozwYhGULAYpCzZw/s320/100_2089.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'm not sure how they can fall asleep in those car seats, but they seemed pretty content. They have so much fun together. It makes me want to be their age so I could play with them sometimes, instead of being mommy!</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-30885374855566859542013-07-17T09:42:00.001-07:002013-07-17T09:42:17.292-07:00My Little Helper & I<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Rob and I just picked up from little Lyndonville and moved closer to the city for his new job, so I've been trying to balance cooking, cleaning, child rearing, and making this townhouse to "fit" me. I really do love this new place. It's a million times better than our previous homes. I figure my living room needed to be the first space I made "homey" because I spend 80% of my time there with my daughter, Marlaina. You can't see her play area, but she has made this room her kind of "homey" too, believe me. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GCByvFoWhdU4Y9x1_ev-C9zMKLhdSqAUVRrSP0Ao3ruhVJqOxUMkrRyak_kODilLrWqvvQ4H_9PoDavA9aUJraTI0IzrnrDyMi3VN0SzrmyMiwYN4JfPMgvpT2yOQ0lB_WRJAOqVRfw/s1600/100_2234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GCByvFoWhdU4Y9x1_ev-C9zMKLhdSqAUVRrSP0Ao3ruhVJqOxUMkrRyak_kODilLrWqvvQ4H_9PoDavA9aUJraTI0IzrnrDyMi3VN0SzrmyMiwYN4JfPMgvpT2yOQ0lB_WRJAOqVRfw/s400/100_2234.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtXL7ryhtzrR58kRrrpsqGR5dCvNdqUiZsmpDEA1fbXmzPM3whPJDEa7B8RurF0K47kNWqr17OfylEesnKkRue82BBQuZ-_W07EPme6tu2lf8AlVAmfFuMqqaE4ZzL8knWRIiN4qJyQQ/s1600/COLLAGE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrKypiohOm1WapttBL7O4ZFKX-OZmT5dTzOZl8fYmDQQHL9F1xV8zs53D3lW7QyFbxVlgoibpHhxcc0VM5c60QbxKl9QMB2-zVNRD1YrATy_7Esh2ri0Mvnq2Dbl-k_JAsbCbmvWXoXEY/s1600/COLLAGE2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrKypiohOm1WapttBL7O4ZFKX-OZmT5dTzOZl8fYmDQQHL9F1xV8zs53D3lW7QyFbxVlgoibpHhxcc0VM5c60QbxKl9QMB2-zVNRD1YrATy_7Esh2ri0Mvnq2Dbl-k_JAsbCbmvWXoXEY/s320/COLLAGE2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Even in the city, we managed to find ourselves a little taste of country living. I'm surprised everyday that I don't have nostrils filled with the smell of cow manure. Marla and I played "water buckets" outside until I started noticing a few too many bees near us, so we went in. My husband is deathly allergic, and I don't feel like testing the bee-sting-waters with our little girl yet. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My latest undertaking, distressing our coffee tables. In the first picture, you can see it was one of those glossy wooden tables from Walmart. One of our friends had given it to us for free. So glad he did! I used a set a pliers and a screwdriver to "beat it up". Marlaina must've thought I was nuts pounding our table with daddy's tools! She's got crafting in her blood though, helping me sand and pledge!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> This is the dresser my husband and I recently painted and aged.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I am in love with it!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm not able to post as often as I'd like because we don't have internet at our place right now, but I'll get in the swing soon I'm sure.</span></span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7874678039509933501.post-46191512626459260562013-07-11T21:19:00.004-07:002014-01-15T11:38:47.130-08:00"This Baby's Heart Has Stopped Beating"<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">December 28 of 2011 my husband and I were blessed with a beautiful healthy baby girl, Marlaina. She immediately became my entire world, my little mini me, my best friend. My husband fell in love the minute he saw her, but between you and me he was dying for a boy. When they told us she was a "she", his face turned a shade of pale I've never seen. Since then, she has brought nothing but joy to our lives.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Almost exactly a year later, we found out we were expecting another little miracle. We were overcome with excitement sitting on the toilet reading our positive result over and over. Little did I know, this pregnancy would be nothing like carrying my little girl.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Morning, afternoon, and night sickness kicked in early. My husband, Rob, was working eighty hour weeks at the time, so I spent many nights alone in my bathroom violently getting sick while Marla slept in her room. I couldn't even hold down my prenatals. At a 12 week check up appt, I had actually lost weight, but the baby seemed to be doing well, so no one was concerned. Shortly after I put on my little girl's first birthday party in February, (we had it late because of holidays), I began having dreams of giving birth to a tiny baby boy at 20 weeks, dead. I remember having a girl's night with my mom and sisters in law and telling them I just felt empty. I wasn't feeling movement anymore, I was depressed, and I just didn't "feel pregnant". Assuming it was just hormones, I shrugged it off and prepared excitedly for our 18 week appt to hear what we were expecting. I just knew it was a boy! Anticipation knotted our stomaches as the sonographer studied our precious baby's picture on the screen. "Tiffany, have you experienced any abnormal bleeding lately?".... No. This question didn't alarm me. They always ask that. "But I haven't been feeling movement. Is that normal? I was feeling him a few weeks ago.".... Silence.... She didn't answer. I thought she was just being rude because my husband and I were complaining of the long office wait. "Let m go get the doctor. I'm having trouble determining the sex for some reason. Maybe he can help."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Twenty long minutes went by. I didn't even think anything was wrong. I couldn't believe they were making us wait again... "Babe, what is up with this freakin' place today?"</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Twenty-five minutes...The door opens to the most awkward doctor face I have ever seen.</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">"This baby's heart has stopped beating". <span style="font-size: xx-small;">No one even told us this baby was that boy we prayed for.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">This must be a joke. This wouldn't happen to me. Not someone of my faith and love in God. Not someone who loves her babies so much. Not someone who would die in an instant for her children's happiness. We were led through the back of the office so no one could see our pain and devistation. We were given two options - Abort this baby or go into labor and birth him. Labor it was. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">On April 1, 2013 I painfully delivered the tiniest little human I have ever seen. My daughter was a planned C section so I never had contractions or even felt my water break. I kept asking the doctor if it would hurt but no pain he described accurately fit the pain me and my husband endured that day. After our precious son came out, the nurse went to bathe him and the doctor proceeded the scrape my out my placenta that was still stuck to my uterine wall. God bless my husband, who was stronger than a soldier holding my hand so tight my wedding ring was digging into my other finger so bad I had to tell him to let go. I have never seen that much blood in my life, not even in the movies. I could not have done that without Rob that day. Carrying my dead son inside of me for three days before was the most empty and lonely feeling I will probably ever know. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Nathaniel David Neroni (Meaning God's Beloved Gift) was weighed in at 6.4 ounces in his blanket. They determined he had passed away at 14 weeks, so he was absorbing fluid inside of me for a month, leaving him very grey looking and with hands and feet that looked more like fins instead of fingers and toes. He was beautiful. A teeny nose, itty bitty ear buds, and little eyes that I swear were full of more life then I have seen in anyone's eyes on this earth. My baby was with Jesus. We did what any parent would - we rocked him and cuddled him and prayed over him. We told him how much we would miss him and how strong he was. We told him how much we love and and that Jesus loves him even more. We told him we couldn't wait to meet him in Heaven.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jesus is the only reason why I could smile that day, holding my lifeless son. I will never forget the peace that filled that hospital room. I will never forget the warmth of the presence of God that ran all over the walls and floor of that tiny room and into the hearts of every person there. During our last minutes in the hospital, my husband went to fill our cremation paperwork and I spent some time alone with Nathaniel. I didn't speak. I don't even think I breathed. Tears streaming silently down my face as I looked into my little boys eyes, I faintly heard the laughter of a little child. My boy. My boy was telling his mommy he really was okay. I will never forget that sound, and I will hear it again someday.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">For now, Nathaniel's remains are tucked in a little cannister in our bedroom with a teddybear. We keep his blanket and hat in a little blue box the hospital gave us. More important than either of those, we keep our little boy tucked away in our hearts. His image is burned into a special place in my memory that will never go away. New York State says that babies aren't considered a "human life" until 24 weeks gestation. We left the hospital without a birth or death certificate, but that means nothing. Nathaniel taught me what life really is. I will continue to share his legacy and the profound impact he had on me and my husband. It may be taboo to share about these little lifeless bodies in today's society, but these babies deserve to be cherished and remembered daily. We shouldn'tpush them to the back of our minds to collect dust. God brought my teeny tiny son to this earth to teach me the most profound lesson I will ever learn - On this earth I have nothing, but in Christ Jesus I have everything, including my son.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">I love you, Nathaniel.</span> </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07354566247446470121noreply@blogger.com8