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日志


2月11日

Hiatus

Josh had a job opportunity recently that would have required us to move about 2 1/2 hours south of here. When we didn't get the job, I was surprised at how much of my disappointment stemmed from not being able to move. Josh's cousin wisely pointed out that our emotions regarding the move were a litmus test indicating our satisfaction (or lack of) our current situation. I had to analyze why it was I was hoping to move. What could be so wrong that I would want to leave our church, all our family, and my lovely home just to change it?! I did some soul-searching and realized I was hoping just for the "excuse" to change. Somehow moving (to me) is a way to "start over" in so many ways. You get to reestablish things - find all the missing socks in the house (and throw the mateless ones away!), clean behind every piece of furniture, find a better way to organize the linens - things like that. And I have always used it as a time to reestablish good habits and attempt to eliminate bad ones. I am realizing though that moving in order to "change" things is like my sister closing her bank account and opening a new one in order to balance her checkbook! So, after some reflection, I realize that I do want to start over. Mostly in areas having to do with my kids. I have procrastinated and rationalized away enough of thier lives - now it's time to really DO all those things that I think a good, homeschooling mom should be doing. I realize I am not spending as much quality time with my kids as I want to. I find myself saying, "Not now," "I'm busy," "Maybe later," much too often. (You know it is bad when your 2-year old tells her doll, "I'm busy!"Disappointed) So, my new resolution is to shut off all the electronic media in the house and do everything as a family. We don't do much TV time, but the computer seems to steal much of my time (all for GOOD causes, of course!). I want to slow down and make memories with my kids. So, I'm not sure how long I will be gone, but I'll let you know when I am back. Pray for me (and my precious children!)
 
Josh read this to the family last night (not knowing of my resolution! - tell me there's no God!Wink)
From Matthew 5
29 If your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out and cast it from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell.
 
So, I think it may be a little painful, but I must cut off this keyboard from off my fingertips rather than see my children perish!
 
Have a great week (or two!)
Hugs,
KerrieRight hug
 
2月9日

Dumb girl question

Hey all my cyber friends, I have a spaces question. Twice in the last few days I have had an odd thing come up in my history of recent visitors. Instead of just listing the page of my site they visited, it says RSS: in front of the page. Also, each entry posted that way is recorded at exactly the same time as the others. Does anyone know what this means? Is it good, bad, or neutral?
Thanks,
Kerrie
 
Added later:
Thanks for the responses. Since I'm not sure who it is that is linking to my site, I think I'll just turn off that option. It has me slightly freaked out!Confused
2月8日

Online Shopping

I was doing some research today on Blake's digestive issues, and this was the ad that came up on the side of the page:
 
Find an infant Online. Shop & Save at Target.com Today.
 
Now that's what I call "one-stop shopping!" If I had only known it was that easy!!Wink
 
Have a blessed day,
Kerrie
 
PS I just discovered www.Goodsearch.com. If you type in the name of your favorite charity before doing your searches, Goodsearch donates money to that charity. Don't have a favorite charity? Consider CHERUBS - www.cdhsupport.org. There is information about it in my "Sites to Peruse" list.
2月4日

Blake's first birthday

Yes, it's hard to believe, but Blake turned one yesterday.Birthday cake I would love to tell you that we had an all-day bash dedicated solely to the celebration of our third son, but... alas, the closest thing to a birthday cake he had was his fleeting glimpse of the cake at the Superbowl Party we attended last night. (Ok, so if you know me, you're shocked about the Superbowl part. But, for me, any excuse to party, ie: fellowship, is a good reason! I don't know the first thing about football, but I actually enjoyed the game! We rooted for the Giants [I'm a sucker for the underdog!], so we were able to be pleasantly surprised at the outcome of the game. Back to the topic at hand:) We did have a great first birthday party for Katie and even a bigger shindig (I am suddenly wondering about the etymology of that word!) for Miles' first, but we digress from there. Once you have a child of each sex, the first birthday becomes a little pointless. What could a one-year old possibly need that he doesn't already have or that hasn't been handed down to him by his older siblings? A grandma called the other day to find out Blake's wish-list, and I stammered and stuttered until I thought of what it was that I would like him to have, namely: diapers!! I've never thought to ask that before on a child's first birthday. You'd think I'd have this down by now! He doesn't need anything new, but he goes through 4+ diapers everyday! That's what we're going broke buying around here (no, I have not reverted to cloth. Buy me some of those fancy ones with several of the fancy $11 covers and I'll switch!).
 
However, we don't need a birthday party in order to reflect on how much we adore that happy little camper (as Blake is affectionately known around here). He is truly a joy; and despite the fact he didn't sleep through the night until two weeks ago, he has been a really easy baby. He isn't walking yet, but will stand on his own for long periods of time. He adores mobility, but seems to like to keep it closer to the floor. He has no first words to share yet, but has some great noises (did I mention he is a boy?!Boy). When we walk into a room with lots of people in it, he will raise one hand and give a loud ... noise ... cry ... call ... vocal utterance as his "HI" to the room. It's rather cute. He also started shooting last week. Miles taught him to point his fingers and make gun noises. Of course, being a boy, he can already make more realistic gun sounds than his sound-challenged mother. He can also play a fair game of peek-a-boo albeit with just one hand slapped anywhere on his face. He does find it rather amusing though. And of course we find it highly intelligent! He has a doctor's appointment on Wednesday - a yearly checkup, so I'll give you all his one year stats later this week. He sends you all a nice slobbery kiss for remembering the birthday that he never will!
 
With an effort at no regrets,
KerrieGift with a bow

Homeschooling

 
This is an video about schooling. Although I'm not sure I agree with everything they say, it's certainly food for thought. I don't know what happens if you sign up for the email list at the end. I haven't done it yet - probably won't. If you do, let me know how it goes!
 
Here's another something I copied off another blogger's site. Sure glad I got drugged growing up!
 
The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county, and he asked me a rhetorical question, “Why didn’t we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?”
 
I replied, I had a drug problem when I was young: I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals.
 
I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter what the weather.
 
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
 
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in Mom’s garden and flower beds and cockleburs out of Dad’s fields. I was drug to the homes of family, friends and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood, and, if my Mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
 
Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin; and if today’s children had this kind of drug problem, the United States of America would be a better place.
 
God bless my parents who drugged me.