tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10217234940428643602024-03-13T04:15:01.752-04:00A Growing FamilyThe Journey from a Single Woman to a Wife and Motherkatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.comBlogger380125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-71833785350614229492016-05-08T20:21:00.001-04:002016-05-08T20:21:25.055-04:00Making it Different<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
No one warned me. No one gave me the slightest hint. When you lose your mother, the glue of the family, you dont just lose her. You lose everything that ever used to be normal.<br />
<br />
All our traditions.<br />
<br />
All our celebrations.<br />
<br />
All our previous joys.<br />
<br />
Gone!<br />
<br />
Right now it is all about doing things differently. Trying <b>not</b> to remember. Trying<b> not</b> to be brought to a place of absolute despair.<br />
<br />
Today, while everyone remembered their mothers, I could only remember the <span style="color: orange;">loss</span> of mine.<br />
<br />
While people had memories to share, I tried to close all mine away.<br />
<br />
Too precious.<br />
<br />
Too hard.<br />
<br />
In years past, Mothers Day was stressful. We wanted to make it perfect for a woman who deserved the world and could only really have a BBQ! What I wouldn't give to have a stressful Mothers Day again, in honor of Her.<br />
<br />
Maybe one day planning events wont be about how different we can make them in hopes of healing our hearts. For now, its how we survive one day to the next.<br />
<br />
A mother is a great blessing. I pray I can be one just like mine!<br />
<br />
<br />katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-31036509133876108752016-03-25T10:57:00.001-04:002016-03-25T10:57:53.066-04:00This One is for HimAlthough this is Good Friday, this post is not about Jesus. "Him" from my title is my Dad.<br />
<br />
As I started to hang my laundry this morning, I started to cry. This time it wasn't because I was sad for who <span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>I </i></span>had lost. My eyes and heart finally moved from myself and landed on my Dad.<br />
<br />
I lost a mother, he lost his<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"> wife.</span><br />
<br />
I can't imagine. I never want to be the one left behind.<br />
<br />
Dave and I have an ongoing, silly little fight about who is allowed to die first. Neither of us wants to be the first to go. Its too hard being the one left to pick up the pieces. That is what my Dad is living right now. Being left behind.<br />
<br />
He has lost his wife, his best friend, his <span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">constant companion</span>, his filter, his love, his confidant and partner... the list goes on. In the relationship of a spouse are found all other relationships.<br />
<br />
How do we help? How do I , as his mourning daughter, help ease his pain and bring him comfort? Everyday must be so hard and so lonely. And yet he stands so strong in our presence. He dams up his tears and stops his mouth from speaking sadness.<br />
<br />
My tears flow today for my fathers pain. For his present loneliness that we can't take away. So many holes that we just cannot fill. In ourselves and in those we love.<br />
<br />
I am thankful that today is a day we remember our Heavenly Father and the sacrifice He sent for us. Jesus is the only way we can find comfort and fill the hole of this loneliness. On earth there is a sting of death, but with Christ we have eternity. Loneliness will pass away along with sorrow and sin. Until then, we cling to His promise. He is our comfort. He gives us what we need to comfort others.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-26884535672361474152016-03-11T21:15:00.002-05:002016-03-11T21:15:53.108-05:00Icy Indifference<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
There have been very few tears this week. As I sat down to try and assess why that was so, it hit me like a ton of bricks.<br />
<br />
I'm hardened!<br />
<br />
I feel as though I have grown a metal skin that is used to cover away all my sorrow and keep it from coming out lest it should rust. I didn't do it on purpose. I only just came to this realization an hour ago.<br />
<br />
Some people get angry as part of the grief. I have no reason for anger. Instead, I've simply become a statue. A semblance of Katie walks and talks and eats but doesn't seem to allow feeling very far. My visits with people feel selfish because I am just thankful for their distractions. My brain is a fog and can't seem to offer any clear advice or conversation.<br />
<br />
I know it wont last. I feel the ebbing pain surfacing as I type. I just thought it odd as I reflected that this was what I found. An icy surface "protecting" the soft and tender, hurting heart inside.<br />
<br />
As the ice outside melts in my backyard and floods the yard, so this hardness will melt away and bring more tears to release the ache inside. New life will bud and grow and warmth will once again reign. Until then, I admit I have enjoyed the tear free week. Just not the ache that seems to build instead.<br />
<br />
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<br />katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-43691466461791890852016-02-29T04:32:00.000-05:002016-02-29T04:32:42.507-05:00Dark HoursNo one can love like a mother.<br />
<br />
I'm still awake at 3:30 am; eyes swollen half shut due to crying because it finally sank in. All the things that I will never have again.<br />
<br />
I went to bed in utter exhaustion and the moment I tried to sleep I started to cry. I can't make the tears stop. <br />
<br />
I want to call her up. I want to hear her talk to me. I want her to hug me. I want to hear that one day it will all be okay. That it will get better.<br />
<br />
It wont. The pain will cease to be as sharp. The tears will dry. But I still wont have my mom. There is no replacement. No one else will fill her role. I can't expect someone to. Who can love me the way I love my children? That one relationship is gone. Lost to me for the rest of this life.<br />
<br />
Where I am right now, there is no comfort. I'm not talking eternally. I'm talking about right now. During the rest of my life on this earth. No one can be my mother. And no matter what anyone says, a girl will always wish to have her mom. No matter how old she gets.<br />
<br />
The other day I was walking down the street and passed one of my moms favourite stores. I wanted to cry just seeing it. I walked by and managed to stay strong. The way back was a different story. I stopped and had a real dilemma right in front of the store. Part of me couldn't gather the courage to go in the front door. The other part wanted to rush in and buy the prettiest thing I could find. For what? Her honor? A memory? None of it makes any sense. One lone tear escaped my right eye as I forced myself to keep walking by.<br />
<br />
Up until tonight I have kept myself grounded. Collecting my emotions for private release, having a quick cry and moving on. Tonight I just can't keep it controlled. My sorrow has won tonight. In so many ways it is welcomed. In a few short hours my grief will have to be gathered up and stored away so I can be the mom my boys need to be.<br />
<br />
Right now I need to cry over the fact that my mom isn't nestled into her bed, getting ready to wake with the sun and be the mom I need her to be. She has done her job and is at rest.<br />
<br />
I have my memories. But for now they are too painful. Just a reminder of the amazing lady we've all lost.<br />
<br />katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-7457501700145434922016-02-25T10:16:00.002-05:002016-02-25T10:16:51.914-05:00Sorrow Upon SorrowMy Mom died.<br />
<br />
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(She's the little one in the middle)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
There was no warning. There were no goodbyes. She just left. To a better place and surrounded by glory, but away from us.<br />
<br />
When I got the call to come to the hospital, the morning of February 11th, I <i><b>knew</b></i> I was going to lose my mother. I rushed into my snow covered truck, braved high speeds on terrible roads and prayed the whole time.<br />
<br />
"Lord, let us get there first. We will sing to her and pray with her. We will read her psalms and her favourite verses. Just let us get there first. Let us say goodbye."<br />
<br />
I walked into the "special" room with Meghan and Connor. My Dad and sister, Aunty Peggy and Aunty Anne were already there.<br />
<br />
"She's gone", he said. "She died".<br />
<br />
We wept. We sobbed out our grief in loud wails and gut wrenching moans. Daniel and Amanda joined us. Everyone but us red heads already knew the truth. We weren't going to get to say goodbye. My prayer was answered with a "No, daughter. Not this time."<br />
<br />
I already heard that answer a few months ago. Not again! I know all too well now how our prayers are answered but not always how we desire them to be.<br />
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<br />
These are the words I spoke at the funeral:<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The
Millar family has forever been changed. Not only have we lost a mother, a wife
and a grandmother, be we have lost our best friend, our conscience, our counseller,
guide and strength.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Courier New';"> </span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She
had a gift at taking one look at you and knowing there was something wrong. The
one who could help put words to all the jumbled up emotions reeling around
inside. She was a sign post always pointing up to God who is the source of all
wisdom, joy and comfort. Each person here has been touched by my amazing mother
and can attest for what I say. It astounds me that God could create a woman who
was all things at once to everyone who needed her… and that I have the
privilege of being her daughter. How one human being could be everything to so
many people is hard to believe; but that is who God made her to be.</span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She
made a home where everyone was welcome. She taught her children to love all who
were around. She instilled in us a passion to see those in need and love them
with Christ’s love. She was never too busy for anyone and so her home was the
warmest place to be. <b><i><u>She </u></i></b>was where people wanted
to be.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I
have always said that my mom was the person I’d most like to be. Her strength
was unmatched, her wisdom unparalleled, and her love incomprehensible. I will
never be just like my mom. I was created to be me, but God has graciously given
me some of her attributes. And when you take myself, along with Johannah,
Daniel and Connor, you get a pretty good picture of who she was. It took 4
children to encapsulate one woman and it is still not enough. She was a second
mom to so many, and they too hold some of her.</span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My
mom went home as a daughter of the King. She was wel</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">comed home with a “Well
done, Good and Faithful servant!” and she is now in the presence of God with 4
of her own children </span><u style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and two of her grandbabies</u><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. She leaves behind a hole that
can never be filled but we rejoice that she has been brought home where there
is no pain or tears and where she basks in the light of God.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“My
sheep listen to my voice, I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal
life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My
Father, who has given them to me, is greater that all; no one can snatch them
out of my Fathers hands. I and the Father are one.” John 10: 27-30</span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My
mom followed Jesus and she is in his hands forever. Praise be to God! </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></blockquote>
Life goes on now. One painful day at a time. She was our glue. She kept us grounded and alert. A daughter often asks: "What would I do without my mother?" And now I know. Cry! And then continue to live. Picking up pieces, comforting myself and others who need it, remembering her voice in all the little things. Just never forgetting.<br />
<br />
Life without Liz Millar is not an easy one. Its darker, it hurts and it feels aimless. Thankfully, we don't serve her, we serve our great Lord and Saviour and he gives us our direction. He reminds me of his promises so that I can mourn now but there will be joy in the morning. He will take this tragedy and turn it into healing and numerous other wonderful things.<br />
<br />
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Here she is with that expression of glee.<br />
It was the books she loved on her 50th birthday.<br />
Some may think its unflattering but I see exactly who she is here.<br />
<br />
I don't know how to end this post. Words have been hard to find and say. I guess I can finish with what I say when i can barely speak and when the tears are just streaming down my face.<br />
<br />
I miss my mom.<br />
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katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-5851713264465936282015-12-26T10:40:00.002-05:002015-12-26T10:40:51.808-05:00A Future LostI started writing to my baby the moment I found out. I began a list of names (all boys because we all know the chances are slim for any other sex) and began to think of sleeping arrangements. I looked into buying a new bassinet and the cost of renting newborn cloth diapers. My heart was racing with joy and excitement for the day 9 months in the future when I would meet my newest little one.<br />
<br />
I never thought that day would disappear. That the Lord would choose to take that precious life to himself before I had a chance to even feel that life within me. A hole was ripped into my life by the loss of a life that I never met. Leaving in its wake a dark pit of fear and uncertainty.<br />
<br />
No one can really prepare you for the sorrow a miscarriage brings. A friend of mine described the need for support being like a woman who has just had a newborn baby but also lost a family member. In one fell swoop, you are mourning the loss of a life you were planning for while still having to pass that life from within you.<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1535189566798086&set=a.1393368314313546.1073741830.100009211717510&type=3"></a><br />
I prayed against the loss of life but it was taken. I prayed for a safe passing of the baby but was hospitalized and required surgery. My prayers were not answered the way I had desired but I know it was all His good and perfect will. I may never understand exactly why these things happened but I do know that God knows.<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1535189566798086&set=a.1393368314313546.1073741830.100009211717510&type=3"></a><br />
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I look around and see all the blessings God has bestowed on us. 4 healthy and happy boys, a warm home, a loving husband and a supportive family (both blood and church). He has been so good and will continue to be good to us. Even in the terror of the loss, he got me to the hospital before it was too late. He spared my life instead of taking it as well.<br />
<br />
I am left confused and scared. The terror of what I went through leaves me wondering if it is safe for me to have another child. Will my life be taken from me instead of spared like it was this time? Will it happen all over again? Was this Gods way of showing me I should be pleased with my family of 6?<br />
<br />
I know all of these thoughts are from me wanting to be in control of what happens. I need to relinquish it to God. He is the one who holds all things together and breathes life into us. The worries just keep coming back. I don't know when the sorrow will fade. I know it will never be gone. My child was lost and will never be forgotten but God will also bring joy. He heals and brings comfort.<br />
<br />
I have hope that one day I will be able to meet this little one in heaven. Until then I have 4 beautiful lives to care for here on earth. I have taken the letters to this baby and put them away. I have collected the sorry cards and tucked them away to help heal my heart but the memory will haunt me for some time.<br />
<br />
I praise God that I have very little time to sit and think of my loss and instead and surrounded by many joyful noises.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-43768924024648707602015-03-18T13:43:00.001-04:002015-03-18T13:44:05.836-04:00Sing and Make Music<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I want to be as the Psalmist was:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music. Awake, my soul! Awake, harp and lyre! I will awaken the dawn</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I will praise you, Lord, among the nations; I will sing of you among the peoples. For great is your love, reaching to the heavens; your faithfulness reaching to the skies.</blockquote>
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Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; let your glory be over the earth. Psalm 57:7-11 </blockquote>
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katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-12660405794041240582015-03-08T22:29:00.003-04:002015-03-08T22:30:22.347-04:00You Know You're Tired When...You take these lyrics:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">A guy walks into a bar, orders a drink</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Sees a girl that catches his eye</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Asks her if she wants another</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">They fall for each other and end up lovers</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Read more: <a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/a-guy-walks-into-a-bar-lyrics-tyler-farr.html#ixzz3TqqHVjyr" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; color: #003399; font-family: proxnov-sbold, arial, sans-serif; outline: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">Tyler Farr - A Guy Walks Into A Bar Lyrics | MetroLyrics</a> </span></blockquote>
And you hear:<br />
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A <span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">cow</span> walks into a <span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">barn</span>, orders a drink sees a girl that catches his eye...</blockquote>
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<a href="http://www.saawinternational.org/cow2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.saawinternational.org/cow2.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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All I could think, until the 3rd time the chorus was sung, was when did beastiality become such a public and romanticized issue? Isn't it bad enough already?<br />
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Time to get myself to bed.<br />
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katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-66592233542078224412015-03-05T06:50:00.002-05:002015-03-08T22:30:14.085-04:00Everything Has a Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'd never had a hard time keeping my house neat, tidy and clean until I had three kids and lived in an unfinished house. Something radically changed in my ability and motivation. Now, I find I am struggling to simply keep on top of the kitchen island, let alone the rest of the house.</div>
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My mom came by yesterday to give me a hand. She reminded me to give everything a home. And once it has a home, any time it is out, it is to be put back into its home immediately. I am sure this is the secret to success, and I have known it and not practiced it very well.</div>
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Here is what my house looks like ( the downstairs) after my mom came:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ezG12TfwrDPYG4DKLCjdYeDt6e8s4KNEm2jWqMW9HQXGmRht2p7VoPrHKq6cAWaecja5jNQNRyFWKQ_RTXM4_mf2SeaGKBBkrAQQRB377mNrgmYzZRR4PINcB6imHsMurc3dUuOHReA0/s1600/DSCN7400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ezG12TfwrDPYG4DKLCjdYeDt6e8s4KNEm2jWqMW9HQXGmRht2p7VoPrHKq6cAWaecja5jNQNRyFWKQ_RTXM4_mf2SeaGKBBkrAQQRB377mNrgmYzZRR4PINcB6imHsMurc3dUuOHReA0/s1600/DSCN7400.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Here is the hutch in our dining/ kitchen area. So much less dumpy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjodrTIqF4BmytuJ92Ve4stxGB3Z7lfOfumTj7a12sOPC5TsnsLQQ4DAM1z2vy5OQU-wzIoaVByn70YrWU8slNp8TvT-tLJlpR0_Qjfg8vscJeniJkNnmlrSxkCQz5HQ9EqA_wvshAQ-CV/s1600/DSCN7401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjodrTIqF4BmytuJ92Ve4stxGB3Z7lfOfumTj7a12sOPC5TsnsLQQ4DAM1z2vy5OQU-wzIoaVByn70YrWU8slNp8TvT-tLJlpR0_Qjfg8vscJeniJkNnmlrSxkCQz5HQ9EqA_wvshAQ-CV/s1600/DSCN7401.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Our living room, with specific cubby holes for certain things.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIIdQViyQnAfVb12Kj_Ikxm4Sf4q4ps7ScItNJ5nr83kIddVkAFuKrPTwV0Aqy7X1tdVZTtSTMqnXzizjoXqf0iAxMx_LVWoHE3t3AW_dk6lRxqYfUC6bjIfclY8XHP8G0PYJPHp8WABe/s1600/DSCN7402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIIdQViyQnAfVb12Kj_Ikxm4Sf4q4ps7ScItNJ5nr83kIddVkAFuKrPTwV0Aqy7X1tdVZTtSTMqnXzizjoXqf0iAxMx_LVWoHE3t3AW_dk6lRxqYfUC6bjIfclY8XHP8G0PYJPHp8WABe/s1600/DSCN7402.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Our other living area. Clean and neat.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGnD2wlHwbUj5uJoVF8GOvY3RnVQVKm4LaUr9MMUpHB7a0Vo-fMkQHlIhUhn5KQ9g6Uib_Xdvp5fi3k8NB_3OJJ-o03UxbEOluewFhCaS687kkLae471ObQHxZTOi-x7Ch9L8BK-UCYMWJ/s1600/DSCN7403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGnD2wlHwbUj5uJoVF8GOvY3RnVQVKm4LaUr9MMUpHB7a0Vo-fMkQHlIhUhn5KQ9g6Uib_Xdvp5fi3k8NB_3OJJ-o03UxbEOluewFhCaS687kkLae471ObQHxZTOi-x7Ch9L8BK-UCYMWJ/s1600/DSCN7403.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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My desk! The dumping ground for everything in Dave's pockets and anything I don't have a home for.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPosIljxDa-GUDHnagIReUeNH6yr8zSftuLWf5ndsOFacNQ20CG0CcufT5mqTdzD-ZaWxMWoHaewUC3EuodoOWV4S_AuCBfMHIkpHLAwihGNptZJuntB2Ml6Rpqgcz_PsTcFCnn8UUe0HI/s1600/DSCN7404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPosIljxDa-GUDHnagIReUeNH6yr8zSftuLWf5ndsOFacNQ20CG0CcufT5mqTdzD-ZaWxMWoHaewUC3EuodoOWV4S_AuCBfMHIkpHLAwihGNptZJuntB2Ml6Rpqgcz_PsTcFCnn8UUe0HI/s1600/DSCN7404.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here is the office that has become somewhat of a play room.</div>
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I am very motivated to keep up with it. The boys even saw some of the work and commented that the house looked beautiful. Matthew and Levi even tried telling Declan off for spilling lego all over the floor. "The house is beautiful Declan. Stop messing it up."</div>
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Keeping a house is far from easy but I know that keeping the rule of giving everything a home and always putting things away is the solution.</div>
katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-88580055256427866792015-02-24T21:29:00.002-05:002015-02-24T21:30:13.415-05:00For MandieOur beautiful baby niece is finally leaving us to her adoptive parents. It's tragic yet beautiful. It was the plan all along but she takes a piece of all our hearts with her. I don't think any of us will miss that part of our hearts the way we will miss her.<br />
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For each of my foster nieces (and nephews, although we have yet to have any) I like to have something to give them. I made a teddy for our last princess, and for this one, a blanket:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQeMl73R7b5Y_bMytzrcwZpxcfGi728qE40CAqZfXcJP3O44H8Z6b67Ilhp9ZFr9M09rL8I34N1VKycRrjSzPVbdEWyi-mapkYJrqijGD-WRVD-HGG_gvPc7zoB8gzAbuNJrWruNyi90M/s1600/DSCN7381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQeMl73R7b5Y_bMytzrcwZpxcfGi728qE40CAqZfXcJP3O44H8Z6b67Ilhp9ZFr9M09rL8I34N1VKycRrjSzPVbdEWyi-mapkYJrqijGD-WRVD-HGG_gvPc7zoB8gzAbuNJrWruNyi90M/s1600/DSCN7381.JPG" height="406" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHEcKFFC9Qycex1RhrkBvXec3zPnCX9cHr6a6WQz47k_GEsblqbn45YZfNvL-jjWkXO9NRxs-k3ocswjbHIICNHi2J4-Jo1axCnB4o4Zgrt1I1hWIK6T6x-5mqfjoqY7RIGPZ0r8sF86O/s1600/DSCN7382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHEcKFFC9Qycex1RhrkBvXec3zPnCX9cHr6a6WQz47k_GEsblqbn45YZfNvL-jjWkXO9NRxs-k3ocswjbHIICNHi2J4-Jo1axCnB4o4Zgrt1I1hWIK6T6x-5mqfjoqY7RIGPZ0r8sF86O/s1600/DSCN7382.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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When I prayed for her at dinner tonight, and for my sister and her family, Matthew turned and ask me why we had to give her away. I explained to him the situation. How is was a very special thing that she was going from one loving family to a permanent home. He seemed to understand. Ewan, however, was perplexed:<br />
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You mean, we will have to do that with Declan too?</blockquote>
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Hard for little ones to make sense of it all. However, we have all been so blessed to have her in our lives. God has used us for her and her for us.<br />
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We will be praying for my sister and brother in law and all my nieces and nephews as they part with their baby sister this coming week. God's love has filled them all to do this amazing work and he will heal their wounds and make them strong again.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-26325961989082581952015-02-20T14:36:00.000-05:002015-02-20T14:36:31.428-05:00Jerry Bridges<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5IqcNi1ZgzhpyomA5iAXq8qyciLcmUISGasWFU8qjBsKvuo1YJcXlTY4NN01WxobvqdVewJzqnFMrNyHXNrCeXJMSjmZfFOnPlUjjcf8H74FutFoEUQhc9QfKubsorfGaLuTJ8DCYlLvc/s1600/holiness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5IqcNi1ZgzhpyomA5iAXq8qyciLcmUISGasWFU8qjBsKvuo1YJcXlTY4NN01WxobvqdVewJzqnFMrNyHXNrCeXJMSjmZfFOnPlUjjcf8H74FutFoEUQhc9QfKubsorfGaLuTJ8DCYlLvc/s1600/holiness.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Another book complete and well worth the time. Not that it took long at all. I never wanted to put it down. </div>
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This practical book gives many ways to see where you fall into the same traps of sin and how to fight to be holy. To have the correct balance of faith and hope but also personal effort in gaining holiness.</div>
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The very final paragraph of the book says:</div>
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Surely He has not commanded you to be holy without providing the means to be holy. The privilege of being holy is your, and the decision and responsibility to be holy is yours. If you make that decision, you will experience the fullness of joy which Christ had promised to those who walk in obedience to Him.</blockquote>
A highly recommended read from my point of view. I have his following book, <u>The Pursuit of Godliness</u>, which I plan on picking up next.<br />
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If you chose to pick this one up, you will not be disappointed.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-74131680228734430952015-02-19T10:36:00.002-05:002015-02-19T10:36:40.467-05:00Should I Be Worried?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikD7IVwjQuHNgN5k3inaz8UL4jmcMMgi9PTJp7169fEzMwAgrnHPU9NPrd6z1_LNIubKxz7foLBuNlUPsxNd7au1vyz65vW5bH4WP2oUP6TCqwm0ydvO2i43V9KCd07P3h3s_8cGtdO5-j/s1600/DSCN7311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikD7IVwjQuHNgN5k3inaz8UL4jmcMMgi9PTJp7169fEzMwAgrnHPU9NPrd6z1_LNIubKxz7foLBuNlUPsxNd7au1vyz65vW5bH4WP2oUP6TCqwm0ydvO2i43V9KCd07P3h3s_8cGtdO5-j/s1600/DSCN7311.JPG" height="640" width="366" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguo1H-tpxsE9T9DGOkPVYEj7j3j9w8tDvi6WPU6zDfxym89iDXrvqYDKPK9MN-dJ0MNOkbIlkvrRN_-fBh4tmPckoH7rIVf1M6bPezjBSSdKAO-KV09R7y6rypG_Pbb4MJBXFF66bCGYgP/s1600/DSCN7310+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguo1H-tpxsE9T9DGOkPVYEj7j3j9w8tDvi6WPU6zDfxym89iDXrvqYDKPK9MN-dJ0MNOkbIlkvrRN_-fBh4tmPckoH7rIVf1M6bPezjBSSdKAO-KV09R7y6rypG_Pbb4MJBXFF66bCGYgP/s1600/DSCN7310+(2).JPG" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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His matching needs work.</div>
katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-38045193229972233872015-02-14T09:30:00.000-05:002015-02-14T09:30:01.100-05:00Valentines For All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAFF62Q1EN8oYWz41h-xXksfOPTLCqxgV2YR-l-fOAayfBXIAcFl8fsqNelX7jE9V6S32mlEq9NU6Ayr4_TiAqZ_0GrnFrZvF77z47fIcDcw_Ztdw6Ez9WGXskbAa0pClc3qrdZr1bU_m/s1600/DSCN7365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAFF62Q1EN8oYWz41h-xXksfOPTLCqxgV2YR-l-fOAayfBXIAcFl8fsqNelX7jE9V6S32mlEq9NU6Ayr4_TiAqZ_0GrnFrZvF77z47fIcDcw_Ztdw6Ez9WGXskbAa0pClc3qrdZr1bU_m/s1600/DSCN7365.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Love: Ewan</div>
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Love: Matthew</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGfuKcT_mr8GBIZdZSf31j9zPB1-d5O6KOfflMQp7YsAHLqMFR_O29w85igIl2HPSAY8KNtd84ED_DLiriHWPRmpvUA_-Ajf47cQN8TSZYahyyRolEIw1Dtx4Q_b4OHmcSy33RLvMCC3_U/s1600/DSCN7367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGfuKcT_mr8GBIZdZSf31j9zPB1-d5O6KOfflMQp7YsAHLqMFR_O29w85igIl2HPSAY8KNtd84ED_DLiriHWPRmpvUA_-Ajf47cQN8TSZYahyyRolEIw1Dtx4Q_b4OHmcSy33RLvMCC3_U/s1600/DSCN7367.JPG" height="352" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvmBCwtD5FQMt_R338nFWniH57rtJUjkXOV_pV8DEPQSDTUGI1KYkIVpXjCzehQIlFKakR0BKi9QFYZ28J5f0XpzpY6nu0L1pw3k6HMDExtA8STwZPDRD5q2DThtEuXhmODO3R_tz2LOF/s1600/DSCN7370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvmBCwtD5FQMt_R338nFWniH57rtJUjkXOV_pV8DEPQSDTUGI1KYkIVpXjCzehQIlFKakR0BKi9QFYZ28J5f0XpzpY6nu0L1pw3k6HMDExtA8STwZPDRD5q2DThtEuXhmODO3R_tz2LOF/s1600/DSCN7370.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Love: Levi</div>
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Every year I am a bit too ambitious with our plans for homemade Valentines. I find really lovely ideas but when it comes to making them, I usually end up doing most of the work. This year wasnt too different, although I did have more help than previous years.</div>
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Since we don't see so many of you, here is your digital picture of a Valentine for you all. </div>
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Happy Valentines Day!</div>
katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-84745447518502791762015-02-12T11:50:00.002-05:002015-02-12T11:51:37.514-05:00Where Was This At Christmas Time?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I don't know if I have ever taken time to look at this kind of snow too closely. When I look at it, it almost looks like fluff growing out of the plants, not just landing on it. <span style="color: orange;">So beautiful!!!</span>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-44726115233302959112015-02-07T22:00:00.004-05:002015-02-07T22:01:18.629-05:007 Toxic Ideas Polluting Your Mind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I finished a book!!! </div>
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It really is an accomplishment. Celebrate with me.</div>
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This book takes seven ideas that we have taken in our society and changed them from God's view to our own. He dissects what the bible tells us about subjects such as consumerism, relativism and materialism and how we change these truths to fit better with what we want.</div>
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I really enjoyed this book. It was easy to read and cohesive from start to finish. It has practical questions to ask oneself as a bit of an examination and it is a book I know I would read again.</div>
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Thank you Anthony Selvaggio!</div>
<br />katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-81723846448801613532015-02-03T16:56:00.005-05:002015-02-03T16:57:12.633-05:00Box Car<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Who needs anything else when there is a big box lying around???</div>
katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-441470617802975092015-01-31T10:36:00.002-05:002015-01-31T10:37:08.324-05:00A New Room<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sometimes I forget that I live in a house that is under construction. Not that I stop noticing its unfinished walls and floors but I just make it my normal. Our home is functional and I've tried to make it cosy even if it is unfinished.</div>
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Lately, while Dave has time between deadlines, he has put his energy into working on our house. First stop, one of the bedrooms. We moved the two older boys into it, freeing up the next bedroom which will be the next project to finish.</div>
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There still aren't any floors or window frames and we haven't yet put up the molding but I am so happy with it. A few touches to make it more decorated (baskets and shelved books) and it will be perfect.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-83718395306448595662015-01-12T16:12:00.002-05:002015-01-12T16:13:38.779-05:00Special Surprise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I don't know too many of my neighbours very well. I know some names and a rough schedule of their day since I see them coming and going, but I've really only built a relationship with one family.</div>
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This Christmas, a beautiful offering was made to our family. When my mom was heading out the door on Christmas Eve, there on our stoop was a package of gifts. 4 precious gifts. One per little man. A card on it said: "Wishing you a Merry Christmas, from Ho ho ho!"</div>
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Who could it be? Who would come all this way to leave an anonymous gift for the boys? I figured it had to be a neighbour and I made a guess as to who it was. </div>
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Each boy was given their own towel and the gifter had sewn each of their names on it which different fabric. Love and thoughtfulness went in to this gift. For our boys.<br />
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About a week later my neighbour across the way came by and asked if we had received the gift from Alice. I had been right. She was who I had suspected. An older woman and her daughter had thought of our family and brought a special Christmas gift.<br />
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I don't know if she will ever know just how much it meant to me. Not the gifts but knowing she thought of our boys during a very busy holiday. God sure uses people to bless others. We sure felt it this year.<br />
<br />katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-73237504932689340532015-01-08T20:22:00.002-05:002015-01-08T20:23:22.058-05:00Guntrons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I dont know how many of you out there are parenting boys but of those of you who are, are any of them obsessed with transformers? </div>
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To be completely honest, I think if I were a little boy I would think they were pretty awesome.</div>
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Well my boys are, needless to say, very interested in these toys. It doesnt stop with the toys though. They spend there free time playing transformers. Not with the toys, but as the transformers themselves! You will hear them yelling through the house and "transforming" by making this funny little noise- "kee- koo-kee". One might also here, " Role out" or " bot mode". It really is a very time consuming game.</div>
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Well, cue Max Steel. Yet another strange hero show where the alien and man fight monsters. I really do not like this show and the kids know they will only get to watch it when Daddy is in charge. This Alien can make all kids of strange modes that helps fight evil. These Modes are no longer just for Max Steel. No way. They now belong to:</div>
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GUNTRONS!</div>
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That is right! my boys have now created their own new creatures. Thankfully it is by using Lego. I love Lego. it keeps my boys so busy and so creative. The house is a mess, but the boys are busy using their imaginations.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2H1e1gjgVRvfVLhKx2z6k_FwF9SVwHt1q34Y3JnW7E8nf6e4QpyXpS25dsHZdPCeT1mN8qIQ4gV2JaAzYW-v8uBw8D5EuP9st9RsyMN1ifJpojDR33cySbb-TK5v_NEnbv8w7u14JJ7O/s1600/DSCN7314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2H1e1gjgVRvfVLhKx2z6k_FwF9SVwHt1q34Y3JnW7E8nf6e4QpyXpS25dsHZdPCeT1mN8qIQ4gV2JaAzYW-v8uBw8D5EuP9st9RsyMN1ifJpojDR33cySbb-TK5v_NEnbv8w7u14JJ7O/s1600/DSCN7314.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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The boys have even worked it so that when you move certain parts of the Guntron, they become something new. So, we have rescue hero, mode changing transformers.<br />
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The things we come up with!!!katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-87386350204472887552014-12-31T10:43:00.000-05:002014-12-31T10:44:52.210-05:00Needle Madness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Another Christmas has come and gone. How sad is it that I have NO pictures of it? I guess when you are hosting an event you have other things on your mind!</div>
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That's right! Dave and I hosted my family this year for Christmas. Counting 12 children, 1 teenager and 8 adults, it was quite the party... although I guess that is what most Sunday afternoons look like also. </div>
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We decided to do something very untraditional. To keep stress low, lasagne, garlic bread and salad for Christmas dinner. I was able to make the lasagne several days ahead and freeze it, leaving the majority of the work in the past.</div>
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I believe a good time was had by all and the food seemed to go over well also. Always good when that happens.</div>
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Boxing day, however, means, "get this tree out of my house"! Christmas is over, now lets clean up.</div>
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A good sign of a neglected tree is if it looks like this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkgPfjWc9w4zxtnoGGrZ6nBp5M4VBECtyh5Uic9Xc63NGHwbDbqlb7HJ-OfCMNSzL5q-R1wPbvcs10vgPTLrvNG8BLrWEStQCxwQsI1XKzT87eiBUS3x119uLtibNtDvXULUVtuFyjHFf/s1600/DSCN7301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkgPfjWc9w4zxtnoGGrZ6nBp5M4VBECtyh5Uic9Xc63NGHwbDbqlb7HJ-OfCMNSzL5q-R1wPbvcs10vgPTLrvNG8BLrWEStQCxwQsI1XKzT87eiBUS3x119uLtibNtDvXULUVtuFyjHFf/s1600/DSCN7301.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Where are all the needles you ask? Scroll down.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICNZ0-NICOV0nSFlR1UikWhLiGXwYfoRRtVu3YV9c5zUVcdWsBVwOju8nz4XSaJi_m0RL6rlgwQEkF5x-FYvXbKuTl0QRF-xg41V32AhFld-WxcwCpOB4FH38H7-npCoSv9WQIcOk3IYB/s1600/DSCN7305+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICNZ0-NICOV0nSFlR1UikWhLiGXwYfoRRtVu3YV9c5zUVcdWsBVwOju8nz4XSaJi_m0RL6rlgwQEkF5x-FYvXbKuTl0QRF-xg41V32AhFld-WxcwCpOB4FH38H7-npCoSv9WQIcOk3IYB/s1600/DSCN7305+(2).JPG" height="640" width="364" /></a></div>
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Yup! there they are.<br />
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Several factors contributed to this mess. First being that I didn't water it. That's a big one. Initially I had it in a huge bucket of sweet water and I just never added more. Second factor was the bucket. We don't use a stand, simply a bucket with the tree tied to something. So the tree branches are actually resting on the lip of the buckets making it quite the task to try and get more water into it. Third factor, it is in the same room as our wood burning fireplace. It gets quite hot and very dry in the house, let alone that room alone. Over all, the tree and I didnt really stand a chance. Even if I had been a bit more diligent.<br />
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What did that get me?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0N8F-O5LwHxltDo1uyDLPxNAEY1H5vYWCBws3s6KqqLNKfWEE8tggr6qdyLU-HX8doqO74FdaY2lECYORrBto_xfGZZBLox_jTymopEtjrAln7ksdFj-2n9o69-8YMxxCFfaDR21P61KZ/s1600/DSCN7307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0N8F-O5LwHxltDo1uyDLPxNAEY1H5vYWCBws3s6KqqLNKfWEE8tggr6qdyLU-HX8doqO74FdaY2lECYORrBto_xfGZZBLox_jTymopEtjrAln7ksdFj-2n9o69-8YMxxCFfaDR21P61KZ/s1600/DSCN7307.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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This!!!!<br />
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I had to empty my vacuum three times just to clean up the needles in the house. Lets not even mention the needles on our porch and out the back door! Dave actually got out the blower and blew the needles out of the porch so we would stop tracking them in on our boots every time we went out.<br />
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I love real trees. Ill deal with the mess. No big deal. I am thankful for Christmas and I am also thankful that it is over for another year.<br />
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Tonight is New Years Eve. May you all have a wonderful new year. We plan on staying in and keeping it low key. This year has been strange. We plan on finishing it the same way. Doing nothing!katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-88887359508581485962014-12-19T17:51:00.001-05:002015-01-12T16:14:33.297-05:00A Christmas Read<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51Pn39h19NL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51Pn39h19NL.jpg" height="640" width="594" /></a></div>
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A fun, dark and fantastical story or who Kringle is and where he came from.<br />
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I really enjoyed this read but am very thankful I stopped myself from reading it out loud to the boys without having read it first. I'm thinking it is a bit scary for young ones.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-41767153778456414892014-12-16T16:24:00.000-05:002014-12-16T16:24:25.573-05:00Activities and Guests<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Family is very important to me. I get tired, I get grumpy and I get overwhelmed but I can very rarely turn down the opportunity to be with family. It has been build right into my being. Through the loving parenting and teaching we had as kids, family (both blood related and not) has become one of our essentials. A support and network that is there in thick and thin. </div>
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Sunday afternoon, my niece asked if she could spend time with us this week. As talk of this ensued, a nephew also made the request. As an Aunty who didn't wish to leave anyone sad, I told them both to come on over and visit. </div>
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Until Wednesday evening I am the mother or 6! I love it. Its loud and messy (wait, thats no different than normal) but at times easier than normal. New distractions and all.</div>
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Monday, I took them all with me to get some gingerbread houses so we could have a fun Christmas project to do together. It was an adventure with an extra two but they were so well behaved. Once we waited for Mr. Declan to nap, we got started on the building.</div>
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The finished projects next to the poinsettia that Dave bought me.</div>
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Ewan got to do his house solo (with a bit of help from mom).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCPSg6uCXIzTwb2Rj7thxInt4C_PTSCKxQC8loT5lVT8MNNZk4m8d4KgellOenQVh3F-igxgzODBHIz8Ag5QL0nyMJwbT0Od4GYLI8xwu9zXNPKwWqLQJqUOOMZItY6EWoK2mkRj92Z9ie/s1600/DSCN7294+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCPSg6uCXIzTwb2Rj7thxInt4C_PTSCKxQC8loT5lVT8MNNZk4m8d4KgellOenQVh3F-igxgzODBHIz8Ag5QL0nyMJwbT0Od4GYLI8xwu9zXNPKwWqLQJqUOOMZItY6EWoK2mkRj92Z9ie/s1600/DSCN7294+(2).JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a></div>
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Matthew and Isaiah worked away, compromising with each other about the placement of each candy.</div>
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Norah busily worked on the house while Levi snuck candy after candy into his mouth.</div>
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Messy and loud!<br />
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WORTH IT!!!katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-35358733165045112902014-12-10T14:43:00.001-05:002014-12-10T14:44:05.217-05:00Trimming the Tree<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We usually try to get our Christmas tree around December 5th since it is Sinterklaas. My sister in law, Vanessa, gave me that fun idea. Our husbands, who are brothers, are Dutch and as a way to do St. Nicks in our own way, we try to get our tree and decorate it.</div>
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This year it was the 6th. So we failed a bit but no one seemed to really care or even notice. Daniel and Amanda ( my brother and his wife) along with the kids, and Connor (my other brother) came with us this year to <a href="http://www.thomastreefarm.ca/" target="_blank">Thomas Tree Farm</a> to chop down our tree. We hop on a wagon pulled by some horses out to the trees and come back on a tractor ride with our freshly cut tree.</div>
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Its expensive but an enjoyable tradition ( at least the boys and I think so).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbU78Ei6Vc4dNvGnp-UNHBRGJ5RYNcGF_1GhWLOieirELctRf6HhyW-ELORJwjJNNCUkEU_BrJo8Pb82vt9fUYVg0KU7gG6aVYHwoxJiiZ_VwuKclh_UQuEAPLh3Z3bdVhExX8Z_bI9lCA/s1600/DSCN7289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbU78Ei6Vc4dNvGnp-UNHBRGJ5RYNcGF_1GhWLOieirELctRf6HhyW-ELORJwjJNNCUkEU_BrJo8Pb82vt9fUYVg0KU7gG6aVYHwoxJiiZ_VwuKclh_UQuEAPLh3Z3bdVhExX8Z_bI9lCA/s1600/DSCN7289.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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The boys decorated vigorously and within 5 minutes they were done. I managed to catch Matthew adding a few ornaments but it lost its appeal after a handful or ornaments were placed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKMApLHASZpcD4su5uRyqq6W7qScXEAMLcuV40l7onws6ViL-Wwdcss_SSaNAIcgy7mQ-wzuso-8zPaviBqiqeds7yKREmnzc8v_2-sb1aXvFEmKyj4DfFcBK6N5WtjKWsyWfq3CVTEEw/s1600/DSCN7288+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKMApLHASZpcD4su5uRyqq6W7qScXEAMLcuV40l7onws6ViL-Wwdcss_SSaNAIcgy7mQ-wzuso-8zPaviBqiqeds7yKREmnzc8v_2-sb1aXvFEmKyj4DfFcBK6N5WtjKWsyWfq3CVTEEw/s1600/DSCN7288+(2).JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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From this picture, you can clearly tell they were the ones decorating. I think there are 5 ornaments on one branch. Pretty! I told myself I would go back later and move things around but it appears not to bother me. I think I just like the warm lights. I dont actually pay attention to the decorations once they are on the tree.<br />
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Along with the fresh cut tree I added some other trees (just not real).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhOiKKd1WvQ7BF0EVtlx162eiZKQV2xA-pACsb-CytNWtc2sU04SScSxZb2ulV2cQBjXfLk63G99vRnoyRk3gp0Aph-iPsOXuL7GgDNuq06uGfXZToUVrNsVUMMnTqO2Nwmdr0rfRjgxi/s1600/DSCN7283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhOiKKd1WvQ7BF0EVtlx162eiZKQV2xA-pACsb-CytNWtc2sU04SScSxZb2ulV2cQBjXfLk63G99vRnoyRk3gp0Aph-iPsOXuL7GgDNuq06uGfXZToUVrNsVUMMnTqO2Nwmdr0rfRjgxi/s1600/DSCN7283.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is usually the tree that the kids are able to decorate and undecorate all month long. They never really got to it though. So, it remains mostly plain which is still warm and cozy.<br />
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Are you wondering how the tree is standing up to Declan? Its a good question. I think one of the reasons I haven't noticed the crowded ornaments is that Declan removes them quickly and in great number. I have found them all over the house. Once I find them, I find a place for them on the tree in a slightly higher location. By Christmas all the ornaments will be at the top of the tree.<br />
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Meh! Its what we do :)<br />
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Hope you are all having a wonderful time getting set for Christmas.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-63250609692373546322014-12-07T10:02:00.001-05:002014-12-07T10:06:19.395-05:00Counting Down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Growing up, December first was exciting because we got to start opening our daily chocolates from our advent calendars. Counting down the days until Christmas morning.</div>
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I decided to continue the tradition, as so many do, with our boys. However, it hasn't gone as smoothly as I remember. One of the kids would go to open their chocolate only to find the treat missing. I guess their moving it down from its shelf proved too rough and the chocolate would slip down to the bottom. So we would have to rip open the cardboard to find the culprit and in so doing cause others to fall out.</div>
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This year I decided to try something new. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TFHF90iibNc_Y99rjQ92z5v7PP0tvSc0JoyvRVQ946XfzU55i8lfkTQH1bS2MFIqqvsSFETKmLfJqDOmwR0XpUNCMiSgrwZxSgnZEsyozr_LcVA5QW8To67QHKgFkzP9pCiZQSjrjXBu/s1600/DSCN7277+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TFHF90iibNc_Y99rjQ92z5v7PP0tvSc0JoyvRVQ946XfzU55i8lfkTQH1bS2MFIqqvsSFETKmLfJqDOmwR0XpUNCMiSgrwZxSgnZEsyozr_LcVA5QW8To67QHKgFkzP9pCiZQSjrjXBu/s1600/DSCN7277+(2).JPG" height="462" width="640" /></a></div>
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These are my home made calendars. Each boy has a different colour and each pocket contains its treat. Yummier than the store bought cardboard calendars (though I am sure the kids really don't care).<br />
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I folded origami pockets, and stamped each one with the date. Some are all mixed up. It lets the older boys hunt for the number and the younger ones are in order so I can quickly grab their treat and hand it to them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqoUI4V5DQ2r2KyOY9K6U_VqrNCAOgCAdiEg5xt-3A2_YAC-VXOXFlJLbTWP9AG_EgaG8PkoceCFgdQVcpf3b0alrkbN_XsSY18ZfMtD-QbaFpMWXlVTU0pCDNznq3W7uL3OHA_qbYVSi/s1600/DSCN7280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqoUI4V5DQ2r2KyOY9K6U_VqrNCAOgCAdiEg5xt-3A2_YAC-VXOXFlJLbTWP9AG_EgaG8PkoceCFgdQVcpf3b0alrkbN_XsSY18ZfMtD-QbaFpMWXlVTU0pCDNznq3W7uL3OHA_qbYVSi/s1600/DSCN7280.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is also not going as smoothly as I would have liked. Mostly because Declan is a climber. He brings a chair up to the calendars when I am out of the room and steals envelopes off of whichever is closest. Thankfully I have extra treats to replace the stolen ones.</div>
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Another tradition that we started several years ago is opening a book a day. They are all Christmas books and they are put away all year long so they aren't boring. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-eafgdxDG1ROV1c3p8u3qk_zFd_pGs7gm6BS94msHfC6eEm5sDOIaT7Y0Ds78hmYIX3Y_c17KItoWg1mopLhTb0rMxRG1fzexBq5Op_mBTG6yOxum6lci9Dltw7eviZ4fvoNBsOI4j2T/s1600/DSCN7278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-eafgdxDG1ROV1c3p8u3qk_zFd_pGs7gm6BS94msHfC6eEm5sDOIaT7Y0Ds78hmYIX3Y_c17KItoWg1mopLhTb0rMxRG1fzexBq5Op_mBTG6yOxum6lci9Dltw7eviZ4fvoNBsOI4j2T/s1600/DSCN7278.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Each child takes a turn opening a book until Christmas eve. They love it.<br />
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That's how we count down to Christmas. How about you?katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1021723494042864360.post-13838348483749161892014-11-26T14:33:00.001-05:002014-12-07T10:06:55.258-05:00Solar System<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This year I tried teaching science to the boys but the topic they chose was the human body. It took us way too long just to get through the intro and some of the first chapter thus I quit. It actually caused Matthew to become a germ-a-phobe.<br />
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After some thought, however, I realized it wasn't science but the topic that was making learning hard so I decided on a new topic without the boys input and I chose space.<br />
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What a great choice, if I do say so myself. I chose <a href="http://www.christianbook.com/page/homeschool/apologia/apologia-elementary/exploring-creation-with-astronomy?event=Homeschool" target="_blank">Exploring Creation with Astronomy</a> from Apologia as well as their Junior Notebooking Journal and it is so much fun. We do little bits at a time and we have only finished two chapters; the intro and the Sun. The model above was after the introduction. We learned the name of the planets and also learned to use a mnemonic device to remember their names.<br />
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Here is the one we created together:<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew Vacuums Every Monday Joyfully, Sometimes Under New Plants</span><br />
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We have included Pluto for now because as we study each of the planets, we can decide what we think about its Planet-tude (invented this word).<br />
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Just thought I would share a little snap-shot of our schooling thus far.katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04440918405789744219noreply@blogger.com3