tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40458907264079671842024-03-14T09:01:41.468-05:00Love in the LibraryLove in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.comBlogger314125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-80032880490352048372015-08-19T00:01:00.000-05:002015-08-19T23:04:57.078-05:00Pause<br />
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I tucked each kid in, and sat by their bed with questions about their fears, their hopes for tomorrow as they start their first day of 2nd, 4th and oh-my-gosh, middle school - 6th grade. Everyone says it, I know, but I really can't believe how quickly it all went. I blinked. The summer was gone. </div>
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And while I mourn summer. I never expected my 9-year-old to feel the same. She told me while I sat on the side of her bed, "It just went so quick, mom. I feel like we didn't even get summer. And like last Christmas, it's like it just passed by."</div>
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I know not every child feels the ache of their childhood rushing by, but this one does. She has an old soul. And it breaks me a bit that her days are already so rushed, so filled, so strewn with things to do that she hasn't had a chance to be downright bored. Just bored with being a kid. Dreaming of those days when she's older. </div>
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Which is why when I read this placard, I got a bit misty and sat down to write. I want to breathe and notice, to study their faces and pay attention. I want to hit pause. </div>
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I know we all do. So can we do this together? Can we all agree to slow down a bit - with the plans, with the must-do's? Then maybe we can learn what it is to be bored, in a most wonderful way.</div>
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I'm ready.</div>
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Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-39592929149066779672014-12-23T08:24:00.003-06:002014-12-23T08:24:18.160-06:00So . . . We moved.<br />
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<b><i> So . . . We Moved. </i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glen Cullen Lane</td></tr>
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And that explains a 6 month respite to the keyboard. Not only did we move in the middle of August, in the middle of the heat, it was also the same week I began working, the kids started school, Lanie had her birthday party and ten thousand activities started up. And we are still trying to find our feet under us so we can find "normal" in our new setting. The greatest gift anyone gave us during that first month was offering to take our kids for the day so we could unpack. I just about cried when they offered because it was completely unexpected. But that's where we were. Up to our ears in boxes and absolutely no time. <div>
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I know people move all the time but wow, it was really hard for me. To take 12 years of stuff in house #1 and pack it up, to say goodbye to neighbors who I've come to count on, yikes, I was a mess. Ask the kids, I cried a lot. And they hated to see me like that. Part of the problem was that we still weren't sure we were making the best move. But the moving frenzy can really get the best of you. It got the best of me. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhocH1XkKuoZaikI6G2LO92klVyKeQo30PPN50Ob6IlK0lsRmfajqvFFZYJGURe-0k0RMnK6spgtIawNL-plFzaxQ4twVM0gigtsa7NFrawYViUZ_KOBGg431Kz8f_gjpk9wrmcEFbevuI/s1600/DSC_0978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhocH1XkKuoZaikI6G2LO92klVyKeQo30PPN50Ob6IlK0lsRmfajqvFFZYJGURe-0k0RMnK6spgtIawNL-plFzaxQ4twVM0gigtsa7NFrawYViUZ_KOBGg431Kz8f_gjpk9wrmcEFbevuI/s1600/DSC_0978.JPG" height="209" width="320" /></a>Once we started, and houses were flying off the market in a day or two, we knew we had to get our game face on and get serious. What started as a, "Hey, let's just go look at this house" turned into day-long searches and long, thoughtful conversations with Kenny where we played the pros and cons of every. single. aspect of each house in length. What we ended up with -- it's really odd -- it doesn't have the yard we wanted, or the pool, or even the idyllic neighborhood, but there was something very quirky about the house that just drew us in. Maybe it's the 365 degree Disney room, or the odd angle of stairs, or the open concept that I love, or the balcony, or the 10 minute drive to school. Or maybe it's because 4 other cars were waiting behind us to see the house and I fell into competition mode and wanted to beat them to the asking price. Whichever it was -- we stuck it out, even though we almost changed our minds twice. We continued to come back to this quirky house over and over again. It seemed to fit despite it's cons. </div>
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I don't know. Those summer months are kind of a blur. I remember very tense shoulders, headaches, and driving around, driving around, driving around and searching HAR.com daily. But then, if buying a home is a complicated puzzle, picking out the house is only the border pieces. Adding all the inner pieces with it's weird sides and angles make up the rest. After a rush clean up job of our own house, we spent a solid week or two eating out. We had 5 to 6 relators walk through our house on any given day. It was a little fun to hang out down the street at our neighbors and watch for the possible new owners. It wasn't so fun when our first buyers withdrew, but God is good and within a few days we had another family in line. After horror stories I've heard about trying to sell a house for years didn't get lost on me. I knew we were blessed to find new owners so quickly. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTC-9keeNGYWVZ1t-2tDnLoXa9WwYXpkDQbvcP7rV3uYex9jI1jda6DNZox3UAMyCsu9t1KBVDJErEvtYMtt1twDfdhFWBaUpeH8DPGjAPfavXC1glwLvhB7AhV0NHEdsFyYVB4XFpOEA/s1600/2014-08-27+18.01.27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTC-9keeNGYWVZ1t-2tDnLoXa9WwYXpkDQbvcP7rV3uYex9jI1jda6DNZox3UAMyCsu9t1KBVDJErEvtYMtt1twDfdhFWBaUpeH8DPGjAPfavXC1glwLvhB7AhV0NHEdsFyYVB4XFpOEA/s1600/2014-08-27+18.01.27.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>Now, that - that right there - was the most difficult, emotional home-selling experience for me. Who was going to live in MY house? Who was going to re-paint my walls? Which kids would swing on our ancient swings? Who was going to befriend my favorite neighbors? Who was going to put as much love into the house as we did? I'm choked up now thinking about it. I'm not over it. We are quite lucky that the new family is actually relatives of some church friends so we have some inside connections. Since the move I've been able to go see the house (to pick up mail) and meet the man & woman who live there and their two daughters. The littlest, who is 3, took Lydia by the hand and drug her upstairs to see Lydia's, I mean, her new room. It was the strangest experience but I felt much more secure that my first home, a building that houses memories of all 3 babies - their first years - would be taken care of. Of course it won't stop us from driving by to see what they've changed, and it won't stop that pain in my gut and my sentimental nature each time I think about what we left, but it's going to be okay. As just about EVERYONE told us during the move -- it's just a house. And I agree, it's just a house. But it was my house. </div>
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Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-59453956205042893232014-07-24T16:20:00.000-05:002014-07-24T16:20:18.705-05:00Flashback #4: Something about the Skies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Kenny turned 40 a few months ago and celebrated in Flight. For some reason we Wards like to take to the skies for birthdays (<a href="http://jenwardblog.blogspot.com/2013/11/my-kind-of-hill.html">see blog post about my 40th hot air balloon ride</a>.) But Kenny was completely on his own for his sky dive jump. He asked several friends to take the risk, but no one was willing. We had some that were busy, others that wouldn't jump out of a perfectly good airplane, one that wouldn't until her daughter grew up (didn't want to chance leaving an orphan), and still another wouldn't risk a fall since sky dive jumps weren't covered by insurance. I was surprised no one else jumped (hee hee) at the chance. Including myself. I think myself daring - but not really. </div>
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It was a beautifully warm May Saturday and I waited, watching the skies. Our friend Bryant came out to support - so nice of him. We were lucky enough to be there at the same time a world record was made -- we watched S.O.S <a href="http://houston.skydivespaceland.com/skydivers-over-sixty-record21/">(Skydivers over Sixty</a>) break a large formation world record with 21 jumpers at the same time. It was pretty amazing. </div>
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<br />It wasn't my first rodeo at a sky dive park - K also jumped with his friend Mike for his 30th birthday. I was prepared. I liken it to watching a marathon. You never want to do it yourself, but when you get there to watch, you almost wish you were the one signing on the "I Agree that SKy Dive Space Land is not responsible . . . " dotted line because it seems like such a bonding experience. And I say bonding quite literally since both times Kenny has jumped, he's had a guy strapped to his back. </div>
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While you're waiting on your sky diver to jump, you basically chance a crick in your neck. You never really know which plane is the one you're watching, which parachute is yours to snap a picture of. Bryant and I watched every shadow of a body float down - "that's him, no, it's not. That's him, no it's not." Finally though, we saw a blue and white parachute float to the ground, and there was Kenny skidding to a stop. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYycEEe-ACOGeGuaPi7fvo_hDE4-JeBUW1l-RLQPbMqvT8h19kfinoDR3u6AeSnOcPgTkEDusROYf6r9LlCJAs4xarj0GRG1EkbYryj0XNVnwpV-GS8gV3g_rbM54Vq1Qs2qu5Wz0ME4/s1600/DSC_0905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYycEEe-ACOGeGuaPi7fvo_hDE4-JeBUW1l-RLQPbMqvT8h19kfinoDR3u6AeSnOcPgTkEDusROYf6r9LlCJAs4xarj0GRG1EkbYryj0XNVnwpV-GS8gV3g_rbM54Vq1Qs2qu5Wz0ME4/s1600/DSC_0905.JPG" height="400" width="265" /></a>He was back. He was safe. No drama. No spectacle. Just my 40-year-old adventurer at heart. And while I thank him for choosing family and working to support a family over all the risky things he'd like to try, and all the places he'd like to go, I'm happy he got to celebrate The Hill his way - jumping over it. </div>
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-41265757421466694512014-07-10T15:33:00.002-05:002014-07-10T15:38:07.535-05:00Flashback #3 - False Alarms<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When Elijah was born, he had a rough start. After one night at home, we headed to Texas Children's Hospital - E wouldn't eat at all so he was dehydrated and jaundiced. We sat in the waiting room - forever - it was a Saturday and a football game was on. I do remember that. We had to get him hydrated, and for some reason I can't recall now - he had a spinal tap. That was a memorable moment, <br />
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overly tired, scared and wrought with emotions with a baby only a few days old. Not to mention the mastitis that was burning my chest. After a few days stay at the Ronald McDonald House so we could be close to the NICU, we headed home. He was fine - nothing dangerously wrong.<br />
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After a few months of babyhood, we encountered another problem. E wouldn't stop spitting up nor would he sleep (due to all the spitting up.) We had every possible blanket and gadget propping his body up so he could sleep. Most doctors passed us by because, well babies spit up a lot. We were lucky that while at an appointment, he threw it all up just in time for our pediatrician to see it and finally believe us that this just wasn't normal.<br />
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One appointment, our doctor confronted us with the possibility that he could have cystic fibrosis - so off to the Texas Children's Hospital again to have him tested and take a sweat test. That was fun. Again, praise God, he was fine, just some reflux that plagued him for a year and kept us running to the pharmacy for meds with a little added grape flavor. <br />
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Overall, we've been quite blessed. None of our children have broken bones, stitches, or been seriously sick. That's probably why this past April when Elijah went to the doctor for a hurt leg and a lingering fever, we were a bit in shock as we were advised by a sweet, but very young pediatrician, to rush to Texas Children's for more screening - the fear this time - leukemia. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7xAgtowQ0hGiHOc_Au_6NNyf6nb194ysoJ0m3D7OfxxsSfGH_BRAiS_BOOrXFnZ1lSDk8UgfGym6KjM6Qt-lDq4I0Qtk7HbuEDZDNrBaXU7AC1LzB_jN5Y5aFQJbbww4eTgcPslJPzQ/s1600/IMG_4541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7xAgtowQ0hGiHOc_Au_6NNyf6nb194ysoJ0m3D7OfxxsSfGH_BRAiS_BOOrXFnZ1lSDk8UgfGym6KjM6Qt-lDq4I0Qtk7HbuEDZDNrBaXU7AC1LzB_jN5Y5aFQJbbww4eTgcPslJPzQ/s1600/IMG_4541.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a>I wasn't in the car as Kenny took Elijah into town but I heard it was a lot of crying, a lot of fear. We spent a good few hours sitting in the waiting room while a friend of ours, who is also a pediatrician, but not ours, stayed updated and calmly told us that sitting there is most likely a mistake. His blood count levels were low but just not low enough to make sitting in a hospital necessary. He didn't want to step on the toes of our doctor who was certainly trying to be safer than sorry but even I kind of put together that even if Elijah had leukemia, the results could wait until a planned appointment the next morning. But, because we have a tendency to trust, our whole family waited and waited until the girls couldn't take it anymore. Kenny took them home and our friend Kendra stayed the night with them. Elijah and I stayed there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6DehyphenhyphenlkC4FSnhc2LKl32De5BTwiswQOny-xgq-X8uaiDwuqImR1A0-1iLccjLDHGRv4z3OVzi5TDRIcrwQd7l8WFoMOc9nwnBCbgx6hjkUD782uNOWLoB3Ma2xK8yDUv8s0TcToq4IQ/s1600/IMG_1712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6DehyphenhyphenlkC4FSnhc2LKl32De5BTwiswQOny-xgq-X8uaiDwuqImR1A0-1iLccjLDHGRv4z3OVzi5TDRIcrwQd7l8WFoMOc9nwnBCbgx6hjkUD782uNOWLoB3Ma2xK8yDUv8s0TcToq4IQ/s1600/IMG_1712.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a>I had fantastic people watching moments while sitting on the floor at midnight in a busy waiting room with a fussy and feverish 10-year-old laying on my lap. Sleep was next to impossible. We were pretty fed up with the whole experience and ready to leave when E's name was finally called. I remember our doctor was odd, and reminded me of Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley, but he seemed to know what he was doing. We (paid for) the mandatory testing and x-rays all along believing and Squiggy basically telling us, it's probably just a virus. And it was. And sometime around 3am, Elijah finally came home to sleep off this random false alarm. <br />
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I'm grateful it was just a false alarm. I know other parents who haven't been so lucky so I shouldn't be complaining. But if I'd listened to our friend, and listened to my gut, I would have saved our family a harrowing night and a spectacular $2500 tab. If I had to do it over, yeah, I'd probably still listen to that young pediatrician and his conservative "better safe then sorry" actions. I mean who wants to be the parent who ignored the doctor's orders, but geesh, come on, young Mr. doctor - if it's truly not an emergency and can wait until the morning, for goodness sakes, don't freak out a family, or at least not our family. I can do people watching some other day. <br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-13902566499760724992014-07-08T00:12:00.005-05:002014-07-08T00:12:45.481-05:00Our Minnesota <div>
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When you ask a kid where they want to go on vacation, most likely, they will not say Minnesota, <i>home of 10,000 lakes</i>. Why? Because, well kids who live in Texas know very little about Minnesota except that it snows there. Ask an adult who's never lived or visited, and they may whistle a little Purple Rain. </div>
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But for us, Minnesota was our vacation spot. Last spring, we made our plans - we were looking for a lake, outdoorsy stuff, and cool weather. We also wanted to see K's old law school room mate, show the kids his old house, see the Twins play in newly built Target Field, and of course, ride the indoor roller coaster at the Mall of America.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycXqwSHnochhUNYXHMt_YViKWlGkHI7wLra82pBtVRDS6N_nN8PjHjWjsoMjjaKfe_ur_kCb-WaOOJh-TxlhB7HY8qexgOylYIKfFKyVUmYoyjUiVcADMfYsnXzVaKEXkiCItS85iS9s/s1600/DSC_0847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycXqwSHnochhUNYXHMt_YViKWlGkHI7wLra82pBtVRDS6N_nN8PjHjWjsoMjjaKfe_ur_kCb-WaOOJh-TxlhB7HY8qexgOylYIKfFKyVUmYoyjUiVcADMfYsnXzVaKEXkiCItS85iS9s/s1600/DSC_0847.JPG" height="132" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPEE6Y0nrEGfV7HgrWXgZBBf_KTYnnxUmxCC7jmAs5dPIyaHzUVNZVoaBes2eGtpj_WMrGH-h0_bj1tfkuWtWMnZKTerQyI4XpMIgquq1Tisn1hSSN6tRusDQJD0cl1EQVKiAEGAp0BA/s1600/DSC_0765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPEE6Y0nrEGfV7HgrWXgZBBf_KTYnnxUmxCC7jmAs5dPIyaHzUVNZVoaBes2eGtpj_WMrGH-h0_bj1tfkuWtWMnZKTerQyI4XpMIgquq1Tisn1hSSN6tRusDQJD0cl1EQVKiAEGAp0BA/s1600/DSC_0765.JPG" height="132" width="200" /></a>Oftentimes, a trip on paper doesn't work out so well in real life. This trip - well, it did. It was uneventfully wonderful. After a 3-hour flight to Minneapolis, and a 4-hour drive almost to Canada, we arrived at Ludlow's Lodge, an island resort in the woods. For the first four days, I woke to open windows surrounded by trees, cool breezes, birds, and a lake in view. Truly picturesque. And the sunsets, oh. so. beautiful. We chose a cabin that was most like a tree house, 4 floors and K and I lived on the top. We spent the days fishing, kayaking, paddleboarding, and touring the small northern town of Cook, MN. The kids also played in the FREEZING water but not without a lot of fanfare - "MOM - I"m going to go in! I'm REALLY going in. Watch me!" Of course right next to my shivering children were true Scandinavian kids - all blond, blue-eyed and a different kind of blood pumping in their veins who merely hung out in the freezing water like it was bath water. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKR7mka9CCM5YvuQc9gNKA5OsbY63iZdn5vOpwp0Mf9tkqYW7OsX2z8OqMoP3TdT_Qfckhyuo21wEqe6o-7R5p8lPTqVq2Bv3-rlYtoI9zDKBgAcU_apIlHcRoXTpAfJH7rfz9loNEzI8/s1600/DSC_0785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKR7mka9CCM5YvuQc9gNKA5OsbY63iZdn5vOpwp0Mf9tkqYW7OsX2z8OqMoP3TdT_Qfckhyuo21wEqe6o-7R5p8lPTqVq2Bv3-rlYtoI9zDKBgAcU_apIlHcRoXTpAfJH7rfz9loNEzI8/s1600/DSC_0785.JPG" height="264" width="400" /></a>I learned a great deal about my kids that week, things I already suspected, but this week really brought it home. Despite their spirited and talkative ways at home, at heart, my kids are introverts. All of them. There were several families at the resort, families who come every year to this place and have it all figured out. My kids would watch these 12 or so kids their age interact but never really cared to get in the mix of it. They were satisfied just doing their own thing. While I pushed them to, "go play with those girls over there" more than once, they were just as content not making new friends. They did all string worms on their lines together and laugh at the fish wriggling off their hooks, but as far as bff's - not this week. It was an interesting study for me - and since I love to analyze . . . and talk . . . I did.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ujHayDT_sVYpffppyJO2AkE57xp5O8qion4i4bW_sf-JY3Q7UCbixymXNjEnDa35ktB0_ILspYdzgkj_YUePX-lFMZ8s4BQfTL0p5Vjx8UJ5u_qhthzYXSuhCJXYOURDSzEnOzSylxQ/s1600/IMG_2863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ujHayDT_sVYpffppyJO2AkE57xp5O8qion4i4bW_sf-JY3Q7UCbixymXNjEnDa35ktB0_ILspYdzgkj_YUePX-lFMZ8s4BQfTL0p5Vjx8UJ5u_qhthzYXSuhCJXYOURDSzEnOzSylxQ/s1600/IMG_2863.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
The rest of our vacation was spent in the twin cities - doing all the things we hoped to do. We visited with Kenny's law school room mate, Erik and his wife, who I'd never met and who I really liked and the kids, my introverted kids, really took a shine too. We sat through a 2 hour rain delay and watched the TWINS (at least the first 5 innings) who went on to win 3 straight games after a long losing streak. We experienced that MALL, took the girls to the Barbie Experience, found the store that sells the best caramel ever (Tina and I found it years ago and I haven't been back since college), and we rode those roller coasters. Perfect.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7t3ZwMVEo66-oXTWKCh48MuKCgtO1xSHKZud2VCixG6u1fBb0wl54_VdrEqjYWQza4U4wB9Jx5Kz4p3TDqsYoyId_876HssnYKLvPRhqrWDXX_eSnArfbp6-mSLol5jorocBTO6DA7Zo/s1600/DSC_0926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7t3ZwMVEo66-oXTWKCh48MuKCgtO1xSHKZud2VCixG6u1fBb0wl54_VdrEqjYWQza4U4wB9Jx5Kz4p3TDqsYoyId_876HssnYKLvPRhqrWDXX_eSnArfbp6-mSLol5jorocBTO6DA7Zo/s1600/DSC_0926.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a>On our last day, we had to take the kids by Kenny's old house and to see the Minnehaha Waterfall. Not only for the silly name, but because some 16 years ago, Kenny stumbled upon this waterfall completely frozen, gorgeous, and snapped a picture. That picture has sat on our shelf for years. We wanted to see it again.<br />
It was one of those days - one of those Norman Rockwell days. For Texans, I liken it to that first cool day in October when you can't help but be outside. The Twin Cities' folks had a record-breaking cold winter, then a deluge of Spring rain, so on that day, our one day to explore Minneapolis, every. single. person was out to feel the sunshine and I was wrapped up in it. I was ready to buy a house that day and start a new life in this awesome city, with these sweet little homes that has a Lutheran church and school on every corner.<br />
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Of course, I had to remind myself that I dislike the cold something fierce and so I quickly shook my Twin City fantasy as we headed back to the airport for our flight home. <br />
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I loved our little trip, even more so because it was in Minnesota and not a typical tourist spot. I asked the kids where else they'd like to go so we could plan a spot next year and I got a great answer. I think it was Lydia who said, "We don't know what there is to see!"<br />
I can't wait to show them. <br />
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I love to travel, despite my fear of flying that I try to hide from my children. It happens often that I get the itch to go somewhere, anywhere else but where I am. There is nothing better for the soul then a new landscape, new weather, new history, and new people. And there's nothing better for a family then taking that adventure together, and bringing it back, tired and exhausted, to this place we've carved out called HOME.<br />
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And then make plans to do it again, somewhere new.<br />
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Some more favorite Pics:<br />
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Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-12563400017286185632014-06-12T17:42:00.005-05:002018-03-25T16:07:05.902-05:00Flashback #2: The Hills Are Alive<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In December of last year, an announcement went out to all students at Lutheran South that the Spring drama would be <i>The Sound of Music </i>-- and any student who wanted to try out, could.<br />
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We, or me, really and my kids by extension, are a musical-loving family so I asked all three kids if they wanted to try out. They knew the movie, some of the songs, so if there was ever a play to try out for, this seemed like the one. Lydia wanted to. I couldn't believe it, but she did. <br />
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I wasn't able to watch her tryout, but one night at bedtime, I did record her two songs and 30 second speech she was going to give for the tryout. It's a bit long and Lanie jumps in a few times, but I'm glad I have it to add here at the end.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeMT6XCWpZ02C35h6wpf8sQd7mlP1tMhAXLy9QNhlxG083SmcItlPYJMgPU2BwkbFYhDptjO97TS-nYFfLF_Nx5nI4JAzbFkGySmB0pOS2nnPc3F8xrrYufGK6qWSKrCbuCs8LeKKoRg/s1600/DSC_0846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>I didn't want Lydia to get her hopes up since I heard 57 kids were trying out in all, and she<br />
didn't. She would have been okay if she wouldn't have been chosen. I think that's what made everything so magical when I got the email that she was invited to a callback, and then the final email, that yes, my shy, quiet 7-year-old got the part of the littlest Von Trapp, Gretl. What a shock it was and so perfect for her. I really have to thank Wyatt Schulz, the director, for putting so much faith in her and for really building her up throughout the process.4<br />
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Of course when we agreed, we had absolutely no idea how much work it would be. The month of April is a complete blur as K and I organized pick up around her new schedule. We often said, "if we can just get to the end of April . . . ." I learned quickly that drama is intense - not only the practices, but the preparation - getting costumes, building a set, writing bios and for me -- trying to take off work so I could be there for every performance.<br />
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I will tell you though - Lydia LOVED it. Every minute of it. Because she was the littlest, the high school girls treated her like a pre-schooler, carrying her around, braiding her hair, doting on her little-ness, giving her the Most Attention she's ever had. And while I did remind her a few times of who she was, she handled it all like a champ.<br />
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We have so many friends to thank for taking time to come watch one of the performances. It made it so real to have people she loves in the audience watching her. For those who came more than once - double thank you -- because it was a lo-o-ng show. I didn't mind. I will be honest, I cried at least once in every show. Something about watching your little girl sing on stage, watching her actually know her lines, watching her play out in public what she does in private all the time - perform, and watching her do something, to be honest, I never thought she'd do. Talk about proud. I was bursting.<br />
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With this play, and the number of children who watched it, we have a whole new crop of kids who are singing Do-Re-Me, Edelweiss, and The Lonely Goatherd. In fact, little Addie - age 3 was in my Sunday School class last week and when I asked what song the kids wanted to sing - think <i>Jesus Loves Me</i> or <i>Zaccheus was a wee little man</i>, she says in her little voice, "Waindwops on roses." And while I sang the Jesus Hokey Pokey instead, I loved her for requesting it. The <i>Sound of Music</i> changed our lives for a month or two. It definitely changed Lydia's and gave her confidence in her abilities, but also drew her closer to the high school girls who I would love to thank for being such great role models for her. It's corny, I know, but the whole experience has been "One of My Favorite Things" this year.<br />
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For all those who came to see the play, Thank you!<br />
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The Practice Try-Out (It's 4 minutes long, but so glad I have it.)<br />
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I feel like I've done several <a href="http://jenwardblog.blogspot.com/2012/06/city-champs.html">baseball posts </a>in the past, but this year has been different than other years for Elijah. This spring we have been immersed in little league but for E, one of only 3 10-year-olds on a team of 11-year-olds, it's been a whole new experience. The kid works so hard but he admits, he doesn't LOVE baseball the way he does other sports. This is his first year to spend a lot of his time in outfield, sometime on the bench, and a few times at 2nd base. At the beginning, I was a bit miffed - doesn't his coach know he's a 1st baseman, that first is all he's ever played. But after I watched a few games, I realized, the players coach chose for those important spots really deserved them and Elijah would have to learn to sit in the background a bit. They won their first 4 games and as Elijah likes to say, "that's more games than my team won last year the whole season!" He was pleased and didn't mind sitting out, or being in center field. And for this mom who began the season frustrated, relaxed and actually enjoyed not having to worry that my son would have to make the big play or that he would be the one to miss the base out. I just got to watch kids play baseball and cheer on Elijah when he was up to bat and tell him how fun it was to watch him play when it was all over. It's been pretty free-ing. <br />
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Go Diamondbacks!!!<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-80794727642558218452014-05-21T23:32:00.002-05:002014-05-21T23:32:29.587-05:00"Oh, Marilla. How much you miss!"If anyone knows this line, then you're a kindred spirit (as Anne Shirley would say.) But this line from Anne of Green Gables keeps playing in mind every time I see my little blog sitting in my favorites bar completely untouched. In the book/movie, Anne asks Marilla if she'd ever imagine life differently from what it is and when Marilla says no, Anne whose life is one big imaginative escape, can hardly believe it. <br />
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So I speak the line to myself -- Oh, readers (of this little family blog), how much you've missed, and how much I will miss if I don't start putting picture to screen and pen to paper. <br />
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You may remember I had the dilemma of defining Love in the Library - is it a place for quips, fine writing, deep questions and solutions, memoir-like storytelling --- the answer, no. Because those things - they take time. I will have to settle for pics and straight info just so I can overcome my fear that I will never, ever start writing again. I'm frustrated that journaling has taken a back seat to everything else, but I kind of knew it would. I knew when this started, that spending hours at Panera pounding out some Ward family moment would be short-lived. I don't have the commitment - but I'm so glad for those who do because they inspire me.<br />
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With some guilt and some inspiration from other blogs I've read lately, I'm going to play a little catch up. Short but sweet snippets, that's all, until I get my Anne-like imagination and typing fingers back. Thanks for hanging on and checking in now and then.<br />
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What a symbolic picture to start my flashback series -- me climbing a mountain. Okay, it's just a rock wall, but still - March, April and May have been a steep climb of kid activity, sickness, parent visits, friends with real problems that far outweigh ours, work and lots of discussions that went like this: "How in the world are we going to do this?!" and things like, "Are we ever going to eat at home?" and more things like, "When April is over, THEN I'll relax which was followed by, when May is over, THEN it'll all be good." It's definitely been a climbing-barefooted-uphill-over-nobby-rocks kind of Spring.<br />
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But we've hung on -- and little by little, as time allows, I'm going to write it down.<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-37360253866648500322014-03-28T19:03:00.003-05:002014-03-28T19:03:36.334-05:00They Always Win<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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I'm late to work every day. Every. Single. Day. That may not come as a surprise to anyone since I'm well known as being a bit tardy. My principal at South, Mike, used to always say as I walked into faculty meetings, "Well Jen's here, now we can start." I get it. I deserve any criticism when it comes to being late in most cases, but not in this case. I wake up in plenty of time to leave for work, battle the highway, and plug my teacher # into the computer right on time. But I don't. Instead my drive is a hurry-and-go-switch-lanes-watch for cops kinda drive.<br />
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And this daily #@* of a drive is because, well, because no matter what - my kids win in the morning. If I fly around the breakfast table giving kisses and wishing them a good day at school, my intentions are to leave the house. But, with just one whiny, but sweet, "fix my hair, mama" and seconds later I'm brushing hair and searching for ponytail holders. I can't seem to leave them. I can't seem to get out of the door.<br />
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I think it comes down to this. I don't want them to ever think that I put work before them. But as much as I want that to be true, I still have to miss their morning rush and afternoon fallout. What will they remember when they are 15, 20, 25-years old and looking back? Will they remember those 7 years I stayed home and volunteered for every job, was present at every event, and was around for pretty much everything that ever happened to them? Or will they remember that one year when mom decided to get a J. O. B. and she always rushed out during breakfast unable to chauffer them on that long drive to school like the old days. And even though we've been working through these changes for seven months now and we have the schedule down pat, it's still not easy. It's not easy to give those minutes of their time to someone else. Those minutes right after they walk out of school and have three thousands things to say between them, to someone else's ears. <br />
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But we've all settled into the routine, and I have my role, K has his, and the kids have theirs and no one is the worse for wear, but ya'll, it's tough. And if you know how to do it, how to erase that g u i l t thing, I'm all ears. Because I want them to win. Every. Single. Time.Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-75068801984540722722014-03-01T00:20:00.003-06:002014-03-01T00:20:29.649-06:00The End of an Era<br />
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Some good things must come to an end. Tonight I'm pondering all the many things in my life that have found their ending. Some of those conclusions came without fanfare, but most of the time, almost all the time, for me, endings come with fear and hesitancy, and a little bit of sadness.</div>
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Earlier in the school year, I had to come to terms with a major ending in our life - the ending of all things preschool - no more daytime preschool rec classes, no more Tuesday morning library time, Mother's Day Out and preschool - done, and any other daytime activity created with a stay-at-home mom in mind. I think the moment I first recognized that that era was really over was the first day of Sunday School for this 2013-14 school year. Since 2005, when Elijah was 2 and started SS classes, either me or Kenny have walked one or two kids down the preschool hallway. When I realized all three were now in one building, in one hallway, it actually made me tear up. I had no reason now to visit with the teachers who taught preschool, or apologize to them for our kid being late. That stage was over. I now have all elementary-aged kids, all grouped together. And while I don't want to jump the gun, in just a few years, we will again be straddling two age brackets, two school buildings, two school schedules. </div>
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It's just enough to make me run kicking and screaming from all this growing, all these new beginnings and sad endings. </div>
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And now, speaking of sad endings, my entire reason for writing tonight was to give praise to two great coaches (Kenny and Coach Jon), and 5 years of coaching boys basketball through UPWARD. Five years of working together, of getting to know one another, and for a family to build a friendship together. They took 4 and 5 year-old preschool tikes and through the years have helped them develop into boys, both in faith and basketball skills. Our boys are now in 4th grade, and if all goes well, Elijah will try out for the Lutheran South 5th grade boys' basketball team next year and will give up those two month's of Saturdays playing UPWARD ball with some wonderful, and amazing faith-filled families. </div>
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Coach Jon will always be Elijah's favorite coach (not counting his dad, of course) and we are thankful to UPWARD for putting Elijah on coach Jon's team so many years ago. That one year when Kenny told Jon, a mere stranger, "Hey, I'll help out if you need me" turned into another year, and then another, and another, and another. Now, these two guys coach like the best of them and I will greatly miss getting to watch them in action, their enthusiasm, their fun, and their kindred spirits. </div>
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Thank you UPWARD -- we are so grateful to you for our friends, and for making the months of January and February so much more exciting & busier than they ever would have been. </div>
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It has been our pleasure. </div>
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But never fear ---<br />
We Still have Lydia -- and coach Kenny has found a new niche - coaching girls.<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-85923074958771717732014-02-11T23:57:00.004-06:002014-02-11T23:57:57.717-06:00Slight Corners<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I took a day off of work to spend with Lanie while her teachers went to a conference. As is tradition for all Ward kids in Kindergarten, I spent the day doing what she wanted. After a double block bike ride, we spent our free time at the zoo. <br />
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Last year, when Lanie and I spent a l-l-o-t-t of time together, this Houston day of fun would have been expected, run-of-the-mill, and most likely taken with a group of friends, and I would have rushed her to and fro and spent more time talking to the adults and letting the play date of kids take their own course.<br />
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But on this one Friday, with just me and Lanie exploring at our own pace, and with just each other to talk to, I learned something quite obvious. When Lanie is in charge of an audience of one, life is simple. She's a gem - easy-going, no dramatics. With the exception of a rush to giraffe feeding time, we walked a slow step. We waited in a line for expensive zoo food without complaint. We spent an unusual amount of time watching bats eat apples, and an armadillo run, surprisingly fast, on spindly legs. And we could skip the snake and spider building, because who really likes to see that - not us.<br />
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I don't know if it was that day or maybe it's been happening without my notice, but I have this strange feeling that my Lanie, my "Oh, mercy - Lanie!" has turned a slight corner. She seems just a little bit more grown up, a little bit more focused on school work, a little bit more independent, and just a little bit, well, easier. And when you have our lifestyle, when on any given night we have 5 places to be, just a little bit easier is just what we need. <br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-21836461414323220392014-02-10T23:44:00.002-06:002014-02-12T00:00:01.213-06:00Life Doesn't Frighten Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Fifteen years ago today was a pretty rotten day. No major details here, but if you've known me for any amount of time, then you know all about it. It's my story about loss, about the moment a girl went from naively independent to embarrassingly dependent in the biggest ways.<br />
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After the whole event, my counselor told me that I should read the police report I filed every year on the anniversary, the one with the freshest, most detailed play-by-play of that February 10th morning. Her explanation that it would be helpful to remember what I've been through, and to see where I've come each year. I always thought that was bad advice since I assume most people who have ever been attacked or violated in any way would prefer to stuff it away. And I really don't follow her advice yearly, but I do like to commemorate the big ones - the 5 years, the 10 years, and I can hardly believe 15 years have passed.<br />
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I like to remember because it gives me a chance to see God's hand in that moment as I begged the stranger to stop, as I prayed the Lord's prayer that sent him away. I like to remember the wonderful people who walked into my life, and became my strength all because I didn't have any of my own. And mostly, I give thanks that the damage done to me will not last forever. I wrote this poem one night when I couldn't sleep in response to a Maya Angelou poem (in a 6th grade text book) about her childhood fear of the dark. It's not high poetry, heck it's not even good poetry. But I can sit here tonight on my computer and remember with such force how real my dragons were then, and how sharing a little of it with Maya Angelou seemed like the most natural escape. But all glory to God that time and so very many prayers from people I love have a way of softening a fearful heart and sending those dragons away. <br />
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So before this day ends, I want to give thanks to the people who were there, who slept on floors for me, who offered their home for me, and who knew, even when I didn't, that it was all in God's hands.<br />
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<b>If I Could Be Maya (1999)</b><br />
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Life doesn't frighten her at all<br />
She'd be so ashamed<br />
I cower low. I'm afraid<br />
While she fights her daily dragons<br />
<br />
Daylight shields my enemy<br />
in solitude<br />
This creature, omniscient -- haunts day and night<br />
Sending prickly,<br />
chilly,<br />
icy<br />
Heart plummeting,<br />
Breath catching<br />
Sickness<br />
<br />
When he captures his prey -- my imagination<br />
Taken hold,<br />
Flings my mind without care<br />
No secret wall to hide behind, no fleeing from his claws<br />
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He stalks<br />
Ste a d il y<br />
In nooks and crannies of every room<br />
Waiting<br />
He overcomes.<br />
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Anger, not fully comprehended<br />
A loss, not completely understood<br />
A survivor - hands folded in prayer<br />
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"Only in my dreams," Maya says<br />
The only times she's afraid<br />
If it were only just that, Lord<br />
If it were only just that.<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-66988309288081805282014-01-24T10:58:00.001-06:002014-01-24T10:58:19.700-06:00Oh TexasTexas, oh how I love your Arctic Blasts. And I love that the possibility of rain and freezing temps gave me and the kids a day off. <div><br></div><div>We may not have gotten the snow day we'd hoped for, but we have had a fabulous morning of trampoline ice angels. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMy-DvwDPzZmlordnZv6nDJ5YTtC0WqaWtGHK3fXZFSWL8CbsKeMP42EBNzy1yuXEOB-4k_QqP-zsE-cNCSyQJjvgSDF6ljOMV5t5k4VWpw1t_MBORGCG_UvDOoTBJfn9V529G982bvsc/s640/blogger-image-1331768383.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMy-DvwDPzZmlordnZv6nDJ5YTtC0WqaWtGHK3fXZFSWL8CbsKeMP42EBNzy1yuXEOB-4k_QqP-zsE-cNCSyQJjvgSDF6ljOMV5t5k4VWpw1t_MBORGCG_UvDOoTBJfn9V529G982bvsc/s640/blogger-image-1331768383.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div> Enjoy your day and stay cozy. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifh_1Czke5MbuUnxs27WDqclm9Risir6Sm7wMu6aC1tFhSbBYng2wOUwW3nZkFTve2W2yIKuzNye8q-H36nFTJ5qAH6BQoWV9ZMU4fkJWboyboiUpmMuK43lx-_5hRrOzl-J_9YKATkQI/s640/blogger-image-980498018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifh_1Czke5MbuUnxs27WDqclm9Risir6Sm7wMu6aC1tFhSbBYng2wOUwW3nZkFTve2W2yIKuzNye8q-H36nFTJ5qAH6BQoWV9ZMU4fkJWboyboiUpmMuK43lx-_5hRrOzl-J_9YKATkQI/s640/blogger-image-980498018.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-31262775384910477452014-01-13T23:51:00.001-06:002014-01-13T23:52:23.399-06:00Eleven Days of Travel<br />
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I'm backtracking here. It's mid January now and I'm bitter I missed all the opportunities to talk about our ELEVEN day vacation. Now that we are home, whenever someone asks what we did over break, my line is: "Eleven days, 3 kids, 3 cats, a Barbie Dream House and no snow. Ugh." Don't get me wrong, we were so glad to go back home, and the kids and cats did (I think) pretty darn well considering no one could move more than a few inches in the (what Kenny calls) his Tetris-packed van. <br />
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The only downside (besides the travel space) to spending your whole vacation on the move is, well, you spend your whole vacation on the move. This makes coming home and jumping right into the routine again, a little hard. We can't figure out why nothing in our house is clean or why zero projects were accomplished - oh yeah, we weren't home. <br />
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The upside to all the going though, is that we got to visit and visit and visit - with each other, with our families, and with our friends and truly the best part, we got to watch our kids befriend the next generation of our favorite Oklahoma and Nebraska people. Since we don't make it home that often, it's a relief when Elijah and Lydia and Lanie play with these boys and girls they see maybe once a year. I think there is this assumption by adults that just because you throw 8 kids together who have similar ages that they'll be best friends. Doesn't always happen. We are just lucky I guess, really blessed that this trip worked in our favor. I loved seeing Elijah play soccer with Jenny's kids or Lydia beg for a sleep over with Sharla's daughter or Lanie tagalong with her second cousins. For those moments and so many more spent visiting this past Christmas, I know I'll take another 11 day road trip sometime in the future, maybe minus the Barbie Dream House.<br />
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For those who we visited while up north, I've got pictures to share, or comparisons to make.<br />
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The Old & The Young.<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-28418537981075170052014-01-12T16:58:00.001-06:002014-01-12T21:59:28.744-06:00It's Time for Girl Scout Cookies!<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfA9N2SvolVg5qj4q5_6OthgWye1eGnWu60fpojfoHG3rGsq8WeDVjSGhYXsir5zD4IZe2limRvx18-mF7q7YU8YrfvT0b8m0uOrwnVtp6id4G32AJ_VxS3J8Wp42YqD7lWWVaPYgP2w/s1600/IMG_4269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfA9N2SvolVg5qj4q5_6OthgWye1eGnWu60fpojfoHG3rGsq8WeDVjSGhYXsir5zD4IZe2limRvx18-mF7q7YU8YrfvT0b8m0uOrwnVtp6id4G32AJ_VxS3J8Wp42YqD7lWWVaPYgP2w/s1600/IMG_4269.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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When I signed the girls up for Girl Scouts, I knew that they would enjoy it. Or at least I hoped they'd enjoy it. When I finally did, all of my guilt for not having Lydia in a troop any early could finally be put to rest. Being a former Girl Scout with a mom who worked for the Girl Scout council, I felt <i>just </i>a little pressure to get these girls involved. Lanie is a tough kid to please though. She doesn't want to do anything but play - no soccer, no softball, no gymnastics, and "stop signing me up for dancing." I was a bit worried. Luckily though, they both love their Brownie and Daisy troops and are having to make new friends. So far Lydia has gotten the chance to be in the Pearland Town Home Parade and also go to an archery lesson. I wasn't able to go watch but her dad texted a picture of her along with this comment: "Lydia "Katniss" Ward is pretty darn good." You'd have to read/watch the Hunger Games to get that reference. My point - she's getting to do a lot of things she wouldn't normally get to do. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVys4EofJR6iYpyHSdsRQ895mt3K6gFXrHKtXkZmcCHfDpQf1y0zYuTX4ZYGNREDQ4KbbYML-70_821oAebprg5wtefvrL8sDuiha2Hcrv9InTttAfZ_UYmFfwwfCUqzX9gLUdaT8rx3c/s1600/IMG_0230.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/AVvXsEhVys4EofJR6iYpyHSdsRQ895mt3K6gFXrHKtXkZmcCHfDpQf1y0zYuTX4ZYGNREDQ4KbbYML-70_821oAebprg5wtefvrL8sDuiha2Hcrv9InTttAfZ_UYmFfwwfCUqzX9gLUdaT8rx3c/s1600/IMG_0230.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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Lanie got her Daisy pin at a special ceremony when she recited the Girl Scout promise. (okay 7 moms sitting in a circle watching their girls get up in front of a group is my idea of a ceremony). She now can recite the ol' pledge: "Oh my honor, I will try . . . ." </div>
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All in all, Girl Scouts -- good for my kids. The one teeny tiny thing about having two daughters involved in girl scouting is (depending on how you look at it) the dreaded or (glass half full), fun cookie sales. For me, it's double the trouble. Double the pain of asking friends and neighbors to BUY, BUY, BUY!</div>
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Yesterday was the first day the girls could sell, so we went out and walked the neighborhood on what must have been the best Texas weather day Ever in January, truly. I basked in the sunshine as I walked the sidewalks. Love this Texas. And surprisingly the girls really liked going door to door selling cookies. I felt so old, watching their own independence grow. </div>
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Lanie's spiel: "Hi I'm a Daisy. Do you want some cookies?" I was little concerned the neighbors expected us to give them free cookies. But because she's little, and cute, and spoke shyly, several neighbors probably felt like they'd break her heart if they said no. Lydia was a little more informative, professional, explaining what she liked best about being a Brownie (when asked) and she sold even more. She did run into a No Soliciting sign at one door which totally confounded her.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmm625bNUjLlYNKYatcV8ONyPH6qNYyMNJu0bduDPdlNRPo5fK7NJMdDc42V5tvLVkEPVWW4I6kH4VcLUK-D0C4TcnoWf9J8DXuosxmeP7iP8zZTydXRGC9dcaock5jkoOWTE-8mMH70/s1600/IMG_0635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmm625bNUjLlYNKYatcV8ONyPH6qNYyMNJu0bduDPdlNRPo5fK7NJMdDc42V5tvLVkEPVWW4I6kH4VcLUK-D0C4TcnoWf9J8DXuosxmeP7iP8zZTydXRGC9dcaock5jkoOWTE-8mMH70/s1600/IMG_0635.jpg" width="240" /></a>The best part of the whole hour or so we walked was watching just how <i>into </i>selling Lanie got. After her "I don't like any organized sport" attitude, I didn't expect her to be so jazzed to walk up to strangers' doors and talk. And she was so optimistic. When she walked up to a house with no cars in the driveway, she reasoned, "I bet someone took the car, but the others are home." Another time when she lingered at a door much too long, and when I told her to come on since they weren't there, she told me, "I bet they are upstairs and it's just taking a while for them to get down the stairs"or the people who had the garage open who didn't come to the door she thought, "they must be vacuuming and can't hear the ding dong (her name for the doorbell)." It was refreshing to see just how positive she was and how much thought she put into the people behind each door. <br />
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When Lydia complained about hurt feet and thirst and was ready to go home, Lanie wanted to do j<i>ust one more house.</i> And after we hit the jackpot where a mom who previously had a girl scout bought 10 boxes from both Lydia and Lanie, we were ready to go home. </div>
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The girls still have more to sell to reach their goal, so if you have a hankerin' for some Thin Mints or Lemonades, just let me know. My girls would love to knock on your door. </div>
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It's a Girl Scout promise. </div>
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Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-41204928595808336512013-12-27T00:26:00.003-06:002013-12-27T00:26:48.776-06:00The Expectation of SOMETHING<br />
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EXPECTATIONS. If I had to tag this picture, that's what I'd call it.<br />
It tells such a story.<br />
Lanie is so happy to be opening her first Christmas present of the morning. Lydia, while watching, is so hopeful, so expectant for her. I love that image.<br />
I'm not sure why Elijah's head is in his hand. Maybe he just expected to be next in line to open his presents, but never fear, by the end of the day, his turn came several times.<br />
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Before the big grandparent, aunt, uncle and cousin gathering for the ultimate12-person gift opening craziness, we had our small family Christmas. For the past 3 years, we've held tight to a theme. On paper, it's pretty simple. Each kid gets 4 gifts -<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibW4JVAahUpV3gOqIIZGw04JY9s2smPb1_eiPBbKfAA9q1IVaYcKKfqKsVDCJaLJyWbpVyW0BHgnmu2vakeAiL9KdSEOXZgbSTXE6YASDRsPIelm5Zsnnt_w37k0aN1RgXH5JPA8Egaog/s1600/2013-12-25+08.46.44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibW4JVAahUpV3gOqIIZGw04JY9s2smPb1_eiPBbKfAA9q1IVaYcKKfqKsVDCJaLJyWbpVyW0BHgnmu2vakeAiL9KdSEOXZgbSTXE6YASDRsPIelm5Zsnnt_w37k0aN1RgXH5JPA8Egaog/s320/2013-12-25+08.46.44.jpg" width="209" /></a><br />
<span style="color: red;">1. Something You Want. </span><br />
(Lanie got her wish for doll clothes)<br />
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<span style="color: red;">2. Something You Need.</span><br />
(Lydia got her much needed bedspread. She got her last one for Christmas when she was two and moving into the bunk bed from her toddler bed. It was definitely time.)<br />
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<span style="color: red;">3. Something to Wear. </span><br />
( Elijah loves the random "What does the Fox Say" song that the rest of the world can't stand - but I gave in and bought him a shirt with a fox that says "ring-ding-ding-ding-ding" or something like that. Oh, and behind him you'll see Lydia in her new owl shirt she immediately put one.)<br />
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<span style="color: red;">4. Something to Read.</span><br />
(Of course, out of the 3, Elijah is the one who actually opens the books I got him and reads the first chapter. Love my bookworm.)<br />
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I love the theme, and want to thank my friend Jenelle for ever sparking the idea in us. It gives us parameters and purpose when buying. Of course, because I am my mother's daughter, I like to go overboard and then push random gifts into those parameters. But at least it's a start.<br />
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For me? My joyful expectations for Christmas rested on two things -<br />
1. "Silent Night" by candlelight in my home church, Good Shepherd. If I had to be anywhere else to sing this lullaby of Jesus birth, it would be here: My parents and my family of 5 squished into a pew, holding tight to our candles while the lights slowly fade to black. If I'm not choked up, I always like to stop, be still and listen to the harmony around me. This tradition happens in churches world-wide, and I'm not alone in how much I look forward to it, but to be in the church you were baptized in, grew up in, was confirmed in, and married in -- makes it all the more sweet.<br />
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2. A family meal. It's not often that every Buehring/Morrison/Downum/Ward gets to press 12 bodies around a table and share a home-made meal together. I can always count on a few things: that at least one child (Lanie) will spill or get food on them, that Mimi will tear up during the prayer, that my children will eat only two things on their plate and run away, and that my undigested dinner will be followed up with too much banana pudding. And it all happened - just like I thought it would. <br />
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Thank you mom and dad for letting us invade your home, and completely mess it up. Thank you for the time you gave to us, for the gifts you gave our family, and for all the surprises along the way. And while gifts are great to open, the expectation of coming home again was just what I needed. <br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-25565820335692061572013-12-25T20:14:00.000-06:002013-12-26T09:32:55.940-06:00A Not-Quite-Snowy Christmas Eve<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiColveOcghrDF0Jn0g8m8m_zSVVaQTX3rpAvTmM0obBfXNFfy4_dVAK7rT8xs3U07fHCSIfP7hgJYajaMUTKAVJrYGqKSnYnlky33-Cxpq1anJh2SzmxOIYfKmrExa87sqDZA9bMIresc/s1600/2013-12-23+13.41.17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiColveOcghrDF0Jn0g8m8m_zSVVaQTX3rpAvTmM0obBfXNFfy4_dVAK7rT8xs3U07fHCSIfP7hgJYajaMUTKAVJrYGqKSnYnlky33-Cxpq1anJh2SzmxOIYfKmrExa87sqDZA9bMIresc/s200/2013-12-23+13.41.17.jpg" width="200" /></a> If you live in a northern part of the world that sees snow and blustery weather on a regular basis, you may not have a complete understanding for those of us, with kids, that don't. For those who have never spent a year past the Mason-Dixon line, I'd like to paint a picture for you. Imagine you're a kindergartener and when October hits, the class units turn to Falling Leaves, Changing Colors, Seasons, Cool Weather and you're walking around in tank tops and shorts. Then after Thanksgiving, the arts and crafts unit center around snowflakes and mittens and you're still wearing short sleeves and the typical southern five-year-old is wondering when snow will fall from the sky. <br />
If you're lucky like us, you'll have grandparents who live in great states where snow always falls. <br />
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What is unlucky though is that we can't plan the date of the big blizzard, and our wishes don't always play out in real life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavw7k5RrgkG55KVCvLQX8Til3IUuQ79TCQlwBQQHSaGzB_osh-jA_vEG2eghG4upuO2PHCdfj5QEtFwpp0j-f3xuYRqFO8XeuvZ8iImfnHWGKR3_5vmi1gwqXSlO7dvhdbcZ66ejVIhA/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavw7k5RrgkG55KVCvLQX8Til3IUuQ79TCQlwBQQHSaGzB_osh-jA_vEG2eghG4upuO2PHCdfj5QEtFwpp0j-f3xuYRqFO8XeuvZ8iImfnHWGKR3_5vmi1gwqXSlO7dvhdbcZ66ejVIhA/s200/photo+1.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdJB1FllolgtNRu3z8c370zH78LKIIeILOcUjAlA4FUdBk_21QQCdiuqgACU4aBskLOZ5CvdUPXnfX_mrQv8MqEoETkfxAUNHHEdyX4yCZeXySAgSX5h4Cyh4wrtMP3_xpnM340lJiPYM/s1600/2013-12-23+23.51.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdJB1FllolgtNRu3z8c370zH78LKIIeILOcUjAlA4FUdBk_21QQCdiuqgACU4aBskLOZ5CvdUPXnfX_mrQv8MqEoETkfxAUNHHEdyX4yCZeXySAgSX5h4Cyh4wrtMP3_xpnM340lJiPYM/s200/2013-12-23+23.51.31.jpg" width="200" /></a> We left our warm Texas weather and ventured into frigid Oklahoma, and by the time we stopped at a gas station in Dallas, it really was getting cooler. Light coat worthy. We had such anticipation. Then when we cruised into Tulsa late at night, we had freezing temps. Mitten and hat worthy. And in the mind of a child (and mine too) anything this cold should be accompanied by wet flakes. Instead, we had frozen grass and icicles on trees and a few minutes of glorious dry flakes. It isn't what you envision when you think of a true White Christmas (Eve), but to these completely unspoiled snow kids, it was just as exciting as you could get. They spent tons of time in and out of the house breaking icicles and throwing rocks at a frozen creek behind my parent's house. When it came down to it, I was more concerned then they were that snow angels wouldn't be on the agenda for the day.<br />
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And though I'm pretty disappointed we missed out on a winter wonderland, the mitten-worthy weather, the actual enforcement of heavier coats and being able to see our breath was just enough to satisfy these warm-weather kids.<br />
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(And we still have Nebraska to look forward to.)<br />
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Wherever you are -- may your Christmas weather be just what it you want it to be.<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-59359940204862152952013-12-20T13:52:00.001-06:002013-12-20T13:52:26.569-06:00Perspective <br />
Instead of trying to post all the things I've missed the past month, I am going to start with what's on my mind.<br />
And no pics, not today.<br />
A few days ago, I was emailing a friend and giving her the chronology of all the rotten things that had happened that day. Here are some snippets:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">6:35am - we notice that Elijah's eye looks like a baseball - the little red and pus I saw yesterday is now a full blown pink eye. I read on the internet that pink eye is only contagious if you touch your eye and then touch someone else'e eye. I don't see that as a problem and Elijah should go to school but since he can't even see out of his eye -- it's looking like we have to scramble to figure out drop off and pick up. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">7:35 - call Kenny back and here was his morning: Get out to the van to take the girls to school and Elijah to the minute clinic. Van won't start. Borrows our neighbors car and realizes he left his wallet in the truck (which I have - 35 minutes away) and no easy tag to get through the toll booths to get to school. I promise to call back when I get to school so we can figure it out. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">9:15 - Call Kenny and he and Elijah used friend's car to take girls to school, drive to my school to get his wallet (paying $3.00 for the toll in credit card) and stopped at the minute clinic. Waiting much more than a minute to see a doctor. (Sidenote: It actually took two hours. Argh.)</span><br />
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And it really has been a tough Winter so far - between sickness, dust allergies and lice (Don't get me started - I am now a full blown expert), some cranky vehicles, and now pink eye - we are ready for our silent night. <br />
But as things often go, everything gets put into perspective when something tragic happens. And it did. <br />
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Another student from LSA, Paul Riley, a boy I taught nine years ago, was in a one-car accident yesterday morning. This is the second student I taught who has died so much earlier than they should have. And while I mourn the loss of these young souls - who I'm really mourning for right now is Paul's mother, Perrilyn. You see, Perrilyn is one of my favorite people at LSA. Not only was she a great parent to work with when I was teacher, we then switched roles and she became both Lydia and Lanie's helper teacher in preschool and Kindergarten. She is a delight to me. She loved telling stories about her boys - Paul and Mitchell.<br />
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I ache for her right now. And I know so many others do as well. Whenever I pause my constant activity, my mind goes straight to her and what she's doing right now. Is she curled up in the fetal position on her bed, like I would be? Is she playing out over and over again what put Paul in the car that morning, what caused him to veer off the road - was it a stray dog, a text? Did he fall asleep? <br />
And then my mind swishes and I wonder if Perrilyn and her husband, Sam had Christmas plans? Did they have gifts wrapped? Did their other son Mitchell hope for some brotherly time together over the break? Did they talk about Paul and his strengths and wonder what he would do in the new year? In his future? <br />
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I know they have an army of loved ones and church friends surrounding them and I'm so glad. I have not a doubt that God is hand-picking his perfect servants right now who will become their comforters, who will walk in and help this amazing family find solid ground in the months to come, who will say what they need to hear. Who will hold them and guide them to the love of Christ and remind me that there is nothing He can't handle.<br />
For now though, in this infant state of shock, despair and what I can only imagine is hell on earth, I pray:<br />
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Lord, protect this family and cover them with your peace.<br />
Amen.Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-88673208743270473912013-11-28T20:06:00.001-06:002013-11-28T20:06:41.131-06:00Give Thanks <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I hope your Thanksgiving was Blessed and full of Thanks.<br />
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Love, from the Wards<br />
& the Epiphany Children's Choir<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-83099297262578221902013-11-15T23:17:00.002-06:002013-11-15T23:17:19.224-06:00Autumn with the Wards<br />
Since I've done a terrible job keeping up with things, I wanted to throw together a bunch of pictures, and why not just use my favorite web 2.0 tool - ANIMOTO to do it. I finally broke down and bought a subscription so I might as well use it.<br />
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Here are some major orange - fall-like pics of the Ward kids. Oh, and a not-so-fall Homecoming pic of Lanie as a crown bearer during the LSA halftime show. I had to include it - I knew I never would get around to writing about how she really didn't want to get in front of an entire crowd and walk across a football field, but how her sister changed her mind, oh and everyone else who knew she'd been asked - tried to convince her. When she finally decided she could handle it and not hide behind my leg the entire time, she actually surprised me with her determination. I always like those kind of kid surprises.<br />
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Anyway, here's to just a lot of pics of kids and pumpkins and trick or treating (& crown bearers.)<br />
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Have a wonderful weekend.<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-87001678579348547892013-11-13T00:08:00.001-06:002013-11-13T09:43:16.424-06:0010 on 11-12-13<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Iyr1PvVZidesOOg00xqwqxjFys1xD1065oe_Pmfnk26PVUjac-CZYTcWn2AvJGQSTyzyzclhrzV-XKNTpO-PFpJJ-23w7EgcbqSiIiBsKWDm03hetyN2Jkjd2hpFd7WpBIwGnGZLatA/s1600/DSC_0079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Iyr1PvVZidesOOg00xqwqxjFys1xD1065oe_Pmfnk26PVUjac-CZYTcWn2AvJGQSTyzyzclhrzV-XKNTpO-PFpJJ-23w7EgcbqSiIiBsKWDm03hetyN2Jkjd2hpFd7WpBIwGnGZLatA/s640/DSC_0079.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">40 and 10</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Ke-oNoGN_ntA6GNmHSbQzo-lmNCQ0d9RwFc8BE01NxH5M6JG-phReCMBceGAOo7mKK9z3-i51Al3igjKCW8uiRI3lY-CwgLbMwQZDZmR2NA9T6r4rEBGYK1wwNWIMcy3LCODL4B1YS4/s1600/DSC_0070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Ke-oNoGN_ntA6GNmHSbQzo-lmNCQ0d9RwFc8BE01NxH5M6JG-phReCMBceGAOo7mKK9z3-i51Al3igjKCW8uiRI3lY-CwgLbMwQZDZmR2NA9T6r4rEBGYK1wwNWIMcy3LCODL4B1YS4/s320/DSC_0070.jpg" width="209" /></a>Is it possible? Did I really just celebrate a milestone 40 years only to follow it up two weeks later with my baby turning 10?? Was it really that long ago? Have we really been parenting for a decade? <br />
It's 11-12-13 (love when it works out like that) but almost midnight. I just went into Elijah's room, just one more time to tell him happy birthday (even though he's asleep) and to tell him that I love him. These past ten years have got to be THE decade of the most change in my life. I went from a newly married gal working 10-12 hour days to a clueless parent of a fussy, reflux-plagued baby with a towhead. And I didn't even know what tow-head meant until I had him. Then he moved into this rascal who craved constant motion and loved parking cars, trains, and all things involving his dad and a ball. How quickly and smoothly he's moved into a school kid who loves sports, loves reading and still loves constant activity - only now with his video games.<br />
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I think I'm going to love double digits. I asked Elijah earlier to tell me what will make age ten different. His response was so mature: "I know I'll have more responsibility but I'll also get to do a lot more things for kids like ten years and up." When I asked him what's one thing he wanted to do before he turned 11, he told me he wanted to stay at the house for a whole night by himself. This coming from the kid who told me just yesterday he wasn't sure he wanted to go to a sleepover camp next summer because he likes being at home more. When I questioned a "whole night" he quickly changed that to "Just an hour or so." Maybe just a small dose of independence - but not too much.<br />
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My baby is trying to grow up and sometimes I want to let him. I like to imagine him as an 17 or 18-year-old, trying to figure out his future. Other times, okay, usually, I want to sit down with him on his bed and talk about old times. I want to remind him of all the baby things he did, of all the crying it out, the temper tantrums, the crazy made-up games, of all the funny things he's said. He's my first and (sadly to my girls) I have clearer memories of him. I don't want to let them go. And while I have umpteen pictures, there's nothing better than a "remember when" story. My kids relish those moments. They love to be the star of the story.<br />
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And today Elijah was the star. <br />
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I will relish 10. It's a good age. <br />
Of course you'll need to remind me of that when I'm rolling my eyes at the armpit noises in the backseat, but yeah, I like double digits. It's looking good so far.<br />
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Picture side note: Elijah spent his birthday with a few friends at Dave and Buster's. His favorite game -- 4 person Pac Man. Who would have guessed?Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-53326440517180629742013-11-03T01:00:00.000-05:002013-11-03T01:00:56.079-06:00My kind of Hill <br />
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I just finished watching the Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy movie "Before Midnight." If you've been a fan favorite like me and journeyed the past 20 years with this dialogue-driven movie from the onset, with "Before Sunrise" while I was in college (1995), followed by "Before Sunset" (2004) a decade later, and now, "Before Midnight" you would be as contemplative as I am now. In the first movie, the young couple who meet on a train while in Europe and spend the rest of the evening walking and talking are 23-years-old. I remember how much the movie resonated with me. It was one you had to sit quietly for to hear all the phrases, the nuances, the meanings. These two characters Jesse and Celine were the epitome of me and my analytical ravings at that age. I loved this movie, I ached with the characters in this movie. It's strange now to watch these same characters, aged and consumed by a few decades of life, worry, work and kids. And how apropos that Kenny and I choose this third installment of the characters, who are now forty, to watch tonight - just days after making the turn to my forties. <br />
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To be honest, When I saw the big 4 - 0 on a card my mom gave me, it took me by surprise. The number carried such weight with it. For so long, I've been proud to be older, wiser, full of clearer perception. Not this time. I have instead felt, what's that word we throw around - - old. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg42eS9W4OkGbG7kDCAQCcLm2a9oZZszGbNsDRAA-yVBBJSsG54aTfO4pf55zMeE6mY18TB-mFtG9oyfkXvZrluzSc5r-CYDhNyRxdfPdOXVamdbQIaFCYndBBUU1pe1wQ-PFp_cpqf1io/s1600/DSC_0290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg42eS9W4OkGbG7kDCAQCcLm2a9oZZszGbNsDRAA-yVBBJSsG54aTfO4pf55zMeE6mY18TB-mFtG9oyfkXvZrluzSc5r-CYDhNyRxdfPdOXVamdbQIaFCYndBBUU1pe1wQ-PFp_cpqf1io/s320/DSC_0290.JPG" width="320" /></a>But this isn't something I tend to dwell on, at least not in this blog post. I'll save that for my dear husband, who despite my complaints of wrinkles and gray hair, put it upon himself to create for me the best "turning 40" birthday weekend a girl could ask for. I keep telling him this, so I'll tell you, I don't deserve his kindness, I really don't. He put together a 4-star weekend of activity at a super-duper, not our regular Super 8 kind of hotel, with a planned itinerary and all. I feel like a high school girl bragging about her "best boyfriend ever!" But brag I will. The highlight of the birthday was being able to check off one more item from my TTBID (things to do before I die) list that I created when I was in the 8th grade -- "ride in a hot air balloon." It was amazing for me to be up in the air but not in a stuffy airplane, to be an adventurer but not have to bungie jump from anything scary, to put my safety into the hands of some balloon hobbiest I didn't even know. Now I want to ride a balloon in every single state. Kenny may not be so glad he opened this basket of worms. </div>
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Tuesday the 29th came and carried with it such fanfare - an egg and bacon breakfast brought to my room (while I rushed around getting ready for work), a small get-together over my favorite mexican food and margaritas, wonderful friends and their considerate gifts, and kind words that made me cry; I was overwhelmed. I was so deflated when the clock struck midnight, and that day was over. Now, I'm just 40 and the anticipation is gone. T h i s i s i t. This is what it looks like. I've arrived. (Though my 50 and 60-year-old friends would say I'm still a young chicken.) Now I get to see how the other side of the hill looks. I'm hoping for green pastures, long walks as opposed to tumbling and falling, and sunsets that slowly fall off the horizon in a splash of pinks and oranges and reds. Yes, that's it. Oh, and lots of hot air balloons. That's my kind of hill. That's my 40. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post balloon ride - followed by a champagne toast, a Balloon certificate, and a kiss</td></tr>
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Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-3079535647599051242013-10-16T22:15:00.000-05:002013-10-16T22:15:15.902-05:00Fall Into Reading<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's the most simple display I've done yet, but love it. And I loved the chill of the afternoon as I walked to my car and drove down the highway with my windows down. We may not have leaves that change colors down here in south Texas, but I think we appreciate an autumn breeze more than anyone else. It makes me downright giddy.<br />
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Thank you Lord for taking the high of 90 degrees and changing it to a high of 75. <br />
We won't take it for granted.Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-80942658836873202372013-10-15T18:36:00.002-05:002013-10-15T18:36:57.473-05:00Goodbye Perfect Attendance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last week was the kind of week not unusual to your basic family who has children who attend schools full of kids with germs and viruses and runny noses. They got sick - but not just one, but two days later, another kid fell prey to the sickness and then two days later Kenny and I suffered a bit and then finally, the last of the family of five, and the messiest, got sick all over the van floor and carseat and herself. This may not be strange to most, I mean people get sick. But not us. Not ALL of us. It has never happened this way. We're a healthy crew. That's why I say with great sadness that already, just two months into school all three kids have lost any chance at Perfect Attendance. I know you're thinking, "Really?" But yeah, for a long time the chance at that coveted award sent Elijah in a tailspin on mornings when he thought we'd be late to school. But times have changed, and school awards have lost their lustre, and my kids don't seem too worried about that fact. Actually, they all loved getting to stay home from school since their "being sick" only lasted an hour and then it was TV and video games. Thanks to the school's 24-hour rule Kenny had the pleasure of keeping each kid, each on a different day. Such a champ he is - taking the heat - all so I can keep up the Ward tradition, go to work and attempt that perfect attendance.Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045890726407967184.post-7362594882994061752013-10-04T22:44:00.002-05:002013-10-04T22:44:24.399-05:00Too Tired Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
A long, long day after two hours of sleep - - check<br />
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Book Fair frenzy come to an end + clean up = home at 6pm - - check<br />
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A crying Jackson Intermediate student who yells at me when I call his mom - - check<br />
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Two sick kids home from school, one on Wednesday (Elijah), one on Friday (Lydia) - - check<br />
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One kid with a lacerated gum/lip (Lanie) after running into a boy during gym class - - check<br />
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A guilty heart that I didn't hear the phone ring when the school called about earlier lacerated lip and inconsolable crying child - - check<br />
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A Friday family movie at the cheap theatre, "Cloud with a Chance of Meatballs, 2" while previously sick kids and lacerated lip girl eat Luncheables, always a healthy dinner choice - - check<br />
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A rock in the van tire, flattened, after coming out of the movie - - check<br />
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Three kids who fall asleep quickly - - check<br />
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A good book waiting for me - - check<br />
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Thank you Friday, you're lovely, but it's time to put you to bed.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Love in the Libraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01608417322493141208noreply@blogger.com0