tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6913374254832729912024-03-05T01:20:55.950-08:00it's a sweet lifePaigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.comBlogger303125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-21059773991361835042018-04-11T15:12:00.000-07:002018-04-11T15:24:19.046-07:00The tale of a dream...As a teen, I dreamed of a white house with a wrap-around porch and a white picket fence. I imagined I'd have five kids, and be married to a wonderful man. I'll have to type out my paper that I wrote when I was 16. You may come to think of me as a psychic. Really, I'm just determined...and lucky.<br />
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Over the years, my taste transformed from farm house and shabby chic, to bohemian and mid-century modern. Ever since Stephen and I lived in the little cabin on Lake Samish in Bellingham, we knew we wanted to live on waterfront. We were open to living on fresh water or salt water but the ever changing beauty and vastness of waterfront was a goal.<br />
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We purchased our duplex as a stepping stone; an investment to get us closer to the dream. We labored hard and have a bit of a hate-hate relationship with that one. But one step closer we became. And then we purchased our 61st Ct. house. It was cute and fit us so well for the season we were in. But far too quickly we outgrew the roomy 3 bedroom home with our 5 lively kids. And so we decided it was time to sell and look for property to build that mid-century modern, bohemian, waterfront home.<br />
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Let's rewind a few months. The summer prior to Hazel's birth, I found a waterfront piece of property. It was 3 acres on Cooper Pt. I thought I found IT. We toiled back and forth with offers and counter-offers. We spent months testing the soil, having a septic design written up and submitted to the county, driving out to this property, tromping around, estimating the costs to build, and thinking through what trees we'd have to remove to get a view. This property was nice, but the buildable plot was 150 feet or more from the water and had a very high bank at that. It was heavily forested. And the soil was muddy clay. We were within days of closing on this piece of property when Stephen and I both felt we were in over our heads. Hazel was only 3 weeks old. We just found out my dad had cancer. And we realized continuing on with our dream might just break us. We backed out.<br />
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Fast forward a year. We sold our house on 61st Ct. as a stepping stone to have equity for a substantial down payment on a construction loan/property. We decided to rent a home while we searched for the right piece of property. I found a beautiful big house in....Hawks Prairie. I was a little bummed. Why would I want to live there? I'd never thought I'd live in Lacey. But here we were, in a hot market with a couple of weeks to find a house as we were given a cash offer for our 61st Ct. home, and this was the only feasible option. We moved in.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPsvdsF-M1dG2hRE223o-BsxeoSOc6Iz4D3759vE5kLteS8ocZ1MbEZs6-rFeinEh9YqqaQCWl037Pprj9rpr8EVYQSuQ71byxTszUUkWLHZY1DwOCdvsO9GRLmykA9D7onOk7bDLPKWi/s1600/Screenshot+%252810%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPsvdsF-M1dG2hRE223o-BsxeoSOc6Iz4D3759vE5kLteS8ocZ1MbEZs6-rFeinEh9YqqaQCWl037Pprj9rpr8EVYQSuQ71byxTszUUkWLHZY1DwOCdvsO9GRLmykA9D7onOk7bDLPKWi/s320/Screenshot+%252810%2529.png" width="320" /></a>The next year was spent searching. It's actually a little scary how much I can find about a person and their property. It's scary because I'm not the only one. But I would spend my nap time searching the satellite view of a map, (like what you see here to the left.) I had given up on the MLS. Property listed through the MLS seemed less than ideal. There was a problem with something or the other or it was beyond our budget. But remember, determined and a little lucky is my mantra.<br />
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This home we were renting was in a subdivision just a mile away from Tolmie State Park. One morning Stephen wanted to drive over and walk along the beach, so we all went. We turned the corner on Hill Rd. And my jaw dropped a little. "Wouldn't it be cool to live in one of those houses?" I thought. That first trip to Tolmie lead to many more. I found myself going there every other week just to toss rocks or see what sea creatures we'd find. And every time I'd drive to Tolmie, I'd look down at a heavily treed lot with a rundown cabin and multiple sheds of junk and a driveway full of beat up cars.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib8v5nWOz6AFmwZDLR7lg-9VVxwyvoJy2qyTlC_sy8y7ZHcRM0Q8wM0ixjHr9_9tRWN5DCcCSbHmfij5DzeatPdgK8Mv-YA5cJabsK2iiPexKJYeL0PlA2G_OJIE-iTrkAoMfFEOqzW4AX/s1600/IMG_6900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib8v5nWOz6AFmwZDLR7lg-9VVxwyvoJy2qyTlC_sy8y7ZHcRM0Q8wM0ixjHr9_9tRWN5DCcCSbHmfij5DzeatPdgK8Mv-YA5cJabsK2iiPexKJYeL0PlA2G_OJIE-iTrkAoMfFEOqzW4AX/s320/IMG_6900.JPG" width="320" /></a>I cold called many different property owners, whom I found through assessors database and satellite views of a map that showed the lot was undeveloped. I was turned down over and over again with responses like, "sorry, we're holding that for our kids if they ever return home. Oh, and how did you get my number?" When I explained my story, they never seemed irritated and always wished me well. So I continued my search. One day, I decided to give this little cabin owner a call. We hadn't previously considered buying a home that needed remodeled because usually that meant it was over our budget or needed a lot of work which we'd rather just build new. But I thought I'd give it a go. I found out, through my research, that it was inherited by a brother and sister. They lived in Montana. I found their phone numbers. I left a voice mail.<br />
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Waiting. Dreaming. Wondering. I drove by the property, imagining what it would be like with our house sitting on it. I wondered if this gorgeous property, which was sandwiched on both sides with trees, would have a view like the houses next to it. I knew in my heart it was mine. I was so sure this was it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HR6J-uJh4P_PjJZifyJN2lGXy0Xq6wlo54_mbwmntsX7JSd1NIwXu-ZokGNW6Aa_Abm4DXBd1rIMCqoeHcwpqjObrg3VROQ9mrOf0UXqXHGX8paaDq1Y7u0s0QMJmrKkQVkl2EVezXoM/s1600/IMG_6925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HR6J-uJh4P_PjJZifyJN2lGXy0Xq6wlo54_mbwmntsX7JSd1NIwXu-ZokGNW6Aa_Abm4DXBd1rIMCqoeHcwpqjObrg3VROQ9mrOf0UXqXHGX8paaDq1Y7u0s0QMJmrKkQVkl2EVezXoM/s320/IMG_6925.JPG" width="320" /></a>Three weeks later, I got a return call. Jan (the sister) left a voicemail back. I squeeled with joy as I listened to her call. My heart raced. She WAS interested in selling. She wanted to have the soil testing done to determine the eligibility for a septic system before agreeing on a price. I recommended the man we'd previously worked with on our Cooper Pt. endeavor and when she agreed, I called him up and met him onsite. We hadn't signed any documents or sales agreements or even a contingent offer yet, but Stephen and I met the septic designer at the property, and when he said he thought it would be a 3 bedroom septic plan, we gave him our plans and asked if there was any way to make it work.<br />
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A few weeks later I received a call from Jan saying that, "the septic design has been approved. And for some reason the designer did a 4 bedroom plan." He designed it for our exact house plans. She didn't know that. A few more weeks went by with communication back and forth and we finally signed an agreement.<br />
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-7624840625127871162018-03-31T09:37:00.001-07:002018-03-31T09:37:21.971-07:00It's been three years since I've written on my blog. I've found I resort to Instagram or Facebook to express the daily ups and downs of life more often than not. It's been an eventful three years. And I hope to remember and relay the important bits of it as well as some unimportant bits that might make me smile down the road. This blog is mostly for my own remembrance as well as that of my kids. I've found that as they are getting older, I will log onto here and let them read through the archives and they will read and laugh and laugh and read for hours. Here's to hoping I'm more consistent going forward than I have been in the past. Cheers!<br />
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-88706413524617166512015-11-16T08:46:00.004-08:002015-11-16T18:25:14.141-08:00Hawaii 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Stephen and I went to Maui last month. It was a time of rest. I was able to think and read and eat and laugh and rest. I was reminded more than ever before how blessed I am, how much I love my husband, how much I love my kids and how thankful I am for this life I've been given and how grateful I am for His love and mercy. God's earth is vast, the ocean is huge, his creation is amazing, and we get to enjoy the beauty of it all. I don't want to squander this opportunity.<br />
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P.S. We took a boat ride along a pod of dolphins. They really are beautiful creatures. We also snorkeled with sharks. 4 ft white tip reef sharks to be exact. And I learned to surf...or at least tried to learn to surf. I really just learned how to fall. Actually, I didn't even learn how to properly fall. The bruises on my hips were proof that maybe I should take lessons on land.<br />
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-60857036937785770122015-11-16T08:09:00.001-08:002015-11-16T08:09:41.356-08:00touched by sadness.<br />
When I worship my creator through song, it hits me to my core. I have always found it a great way to get lost in my king. I love words. I use words to praise my kids, my husband, my family. Words are important to me. They are a language that speaks to my heart. And I love song. I grew up singing throughout the day and belting out praise through music. So naturally I put those two together, along with using them to speak to a Savior who has extended massive amounts of grace, and yes, it hits me to my core.<br />
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Although it's always been a big part of me, and I do it with utmost sincerity, I have never been the emotional type, the type that cries on a whim or while in public. That all changed a year ago. Throughout the past year (beginning in October 2014,) I have sang out on my knees for God's faithfulness to shine through, for healing, for peace, for strength. And then it turned into continued cries for faithfulness to shine through amidst the sorrows we faced, for healing of our hearts, for more peace, for strength to continue on, for our hearts to be changed to touch the world through our experience. And then for the past few months, my hearts song has been out of the depths of me, to praise Christ even though I don't feel like it. For a while, I honestly just couldn't go there. It hurt too bad. I had a hard time speaking to God because I didn't understand and I didn't have any more words to pray.<br />
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Time has passed, it feels like eternity even though it's only been 9 months. On Sunday, while singing of God's faithfulness, the tears rolled down my face (as they do every time I worship Him since my dad's diagnosis,) and it struck me that what once was always a safe and joyful experience- singing praise to God- has now been touched by sadness. When I sing those words of how great his love is, how great his faithfulness is, how he has captured my heart, it reminds me of the sorrows, it brings back the fear and the doubt. It brings me back to the place I was in a year ago, trusting and hoping for a miracle, for God's faithfulness to shine through. It didn't shine through in the way I had hoped and trusted it would. And I still don't see how this is good. I don't see how this can make our family better. And so I cry. Tears roll down when my heart knows that He is faithful and my heart is choosing to trust Him while my flesh doesn't understand and my flesh doubts.<br />
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Have you seen Inside Out? It occurred to me that Sadness has touched my long term memories of worship and praise and of my faith in general. And although it's sad, I look at it with eager anticipation for the joy that follows suit. I KNOW my redeemer is faithful. I KNOW I am not, nor is my family, forgotten. And so, I push on, praising with tears rolling down my face.Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-24616921274097537152015-10-26T10:03:00.001-07:002015-10-26T10:07:09.677-07:00Pumpkin Time!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This year, we ventured to Schilter Family Farm for an evening full of fun! We went through the Star Wars themed corn maze, played on the giant jumping pillow, slid down the big tube slides, jumped in the hay, said hello to all of the animals and picked out the perfect pumpkins! These kids make life so much fun. </div>
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-72673944410033184312015-07-31T07:00:00.000-07:002015-07-31T07:00:05.330-07:00The man I married. The man I love.I married a boy. He was 20 years old. He had a huge smile and perfect lips. His dreamy eyes were big and green. My heart knew he was the one. He was generous, always looking for ways to bless people. He was reserved and gentle, yet outgoing and bold. He worked hard and was determined to be the best at everything he attempted to do and be. He wooed me by bringing me lunch on my shift at work or a Starbucks treat in the middle of the day. He made me feel like a queen. We were young, I was 18. We knew we wanted children, 5 or 6 to be exact. We knew we wanted to travel. We loved to cook. We loved to play games. We loved to talk. We loved to simply be together.<br />
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The boy I married is now 31. He still has his huge smile, perfect lips and dreamy eyes. He has proven to me to be more generous than I ever knew. He strives to give me everything I ask for and then some. He has exceeded my hopes and expectations as a provider. He still woos me with little notes, texts or by taking me to coffee. He's proven to me that I am his queen. I only want to be a princess but he won't have it.<br />
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We have 5 kids. With each one came sacrifice on his part as he has watched and encouraged his wife morph into an emotional pregnant woman 5 times over. And then came the nursing baby who is tied to the hip for a year. He not only puts up with it but takes the baby out for a walk when she won't calm down in the restaurant. He is an amazing father that brings more joy and laughter to the table than I ever could.<br />
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We love to cook more now than ever before. He is continually blessing me with his amazing skills in the kitchen. Be jealous ladies, sometimes he cooks AND does dishes. We also love to entertain. Sadly with 5 kids in the mix, it only happens about once a year! We still nerd out with games. It's moved from Scrabble to Settlers of Catan to Carcassonne to Dominion. We like games with words, and farming and dragons, we're just cool that way.<br />
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Stephen is my love. He stole my heart and has filled it with so much love and joy. We chose to live this life together. Some days are tough. Some years are tough. But loving him is constant. It is a constant choice and when chosen, it is wonderful. We aren't perfect. And I have failed him on many accounts. With God's grace though, and Stephen's patience, we get to grow old together; we get to experience life together. Marriage is a tricky thing. There are so many things that I didn't understand 11 years ago that I now know. I can honestly say this: marriage, this marriage, gets better with age. For that I am thankful and eagerly anticipate the next 11 years...and many more after that.<br />
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I love you Stephen.<br />
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-60030495348787063422015-07-27T12:47:00.000-07:002015-07-27T12:47:11.251-07:00Selling our house.Imagine selling your house. Imagine wanting to make it look out of a magazine at the whim of a phone call. Imagine this taking place every day for two months. Okay, now add 5 kids. Add 5 beds that need made. Add 3 loads of laundry that need washed, dried, folded and put away every day. Add 6 meals per day. Add 50 fingers that you scramble to scrub after each said meal before they touch the ground, walls or furniture. Add 15 pairs of shoes laying around the house at any given time. Add the baby getting teeth and being tied to you at the hip. Add a bout of food poisening that both you and your husband were laid up for 2 days while the kids swept through the house like a tornado. Add influenza hitting and laying up everyone for 2 weeks following. Add a drought with 90+ degree weather every day and no air conditioning. Add the toothpaste that coats the sink after 4 kids brush their teeth twice a day. Add the pillows that seem to walk off the couch minutes after you put them on. Add the legos THAT ARE EVERYWHERE! Okay...you got all that...welcome to my life. It's been a crazy couple of months. I'm ready for our house to be sold.<br />
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-43154000965385991862015-07-06T20:21:00.001-07:002015-07-06T20:21:15.608-07:00Minecraft, Legos, he's all boy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
And just like that, he's 5. Pike plays legos all day long, every day. When we are gone for a few hours, and return home, he goes straight to his room to build whatever was going through his imagination for the previous hours. </div>
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Most days, the kids get 30 minutes of screen time (electronics) and most days Pike chooses Minecraft. He requested a Minecraft birthday and so I tried to make it simple and fun. He loved it! thankfully these pictures don't show what a poor sick little guy Pike was on his birthday. He spent the majority of the day sleeping with a fever. :( But, he doesn't seem to remember that. And by these pictures, hopefully he'll only remember the fun things.</div>
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Pike is strong. He is determined. He is brave. He is kind, especially to his sweet baby sister. Pike is challenging and I am being shaped into a better mother and person because of him. I'm so thankful for his silliness. Happy Birthday Pikee Dude!</div>
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-50423218003127439402015-06-23T14:04:00.000-07:002015-06-23T14:04:16.088-07:00Cowabunga baby dude!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLz92gfyNWBIPLG3CBaxLy98jLvoqj3NF58jTRJaOCx-6jVyYbju46y5OlrT17kUj0mfT45L9tF8ESwKH_9ATLHk0Rkmmw3CGM2bX4HpfheUEGVd8ElTVMjZiLvUKb0YaYHJpGMZNzJhY/s1600/DSC_0986+%25281280x853%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLz92gfyNWBIPLG3CBaxLy98jLvoqj3NF58jTRJaOCx-6jVyYbju46y5OlrT17kUj0mfT45L9tF8ESwKH_9ATLHk0Rkmmw3CGM2bX4HpfheUEGVd8ElTVMjZiLvUKb0YaYHJpGMZNzJhY/s320/DSC_0986+%25281280x853%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a>Crew turned 3...in April. He is all about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It only seemed fitting to have a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pizza party. That's just what we did.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIii07mWxY5z4WLhLd6hOlw-06WsI2QcDp0BDZulhCiYWR2xiKBB2leoST3Vamyev8BZZTZZ02NiCtQNXRMJCqWuHA_dIp3SOwZ1TDflYVLcL1zXyMNHA9erxpLWnfQ2MhLX8IdsO-q7Sa/s1600/DSC_0973+%2528Large%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIii07mWxY5z4WLhLd6hOlw-06WsI2QcDp0BDZulhCiYWR2xiKBB2leoST3Vamyev8BZZTZZ02NiCtQNXRMJCqWuHA_dIp3SOwZ1TDflYVLcL1zXyMNHA9erxpLWnfQ2MhLX8IdsO-q7Sa/s320/DSC_0973+%2528Large%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Crew loves to dance. And by dance, I mean he hears a beat and it's as if he can't help but to tap his foot which leads to nodding his head which leads to jammin' his arms which leads to wiggling his hips and then you find him full-on dancing. </div>
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His other favorite thing to do is fight. As in Ninja fight or sword fight. The boys have a collection of weapons and they are constantly chasing each other through the house pretend fighting. </div>
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Crew says the funniest things too. He is like his daddy in that he'll go to any expense to make people laugh. And he's good at it too! He is making us laugh all the time and for that, I am so grateful.</div>
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Crew and Pike are inseparable. That doesn't mean they play quietly and are always kind to one another but they rarely leave each other's side.</div>
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The most common phrase you'll hear is, "I'm hungry. What I can have?" To which I answer with, "cheese, banana, crackers, etc." He will eat a couple of bites. Be done and return with the same phrase 20 minutes later.</div>
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-67613026395118141462015-06-21T09:59:00.001-07:002015-06-21T10:00:11.518-07:00heartacheMy flesh is trying to ignore today; to pretend that everything is okay. But my heart is aching. My heart is drowning in tears and memories.<br />
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Today is Father's Day. And for the first time, my dad isn't here to see or hear how much he is loved by his children. I told my dad so many times that he is "the best dad in the world!" And oh, what I wouldn't give to tell him one more time.</div>
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My dad was the most selfless man, with the kindest heart. He loved my mom so gently and fiercely. He was devoted to his family, to me, to my family. You know, my dad didn't really have a hobby. We were his hobby. Supporting us. Playing ball with us. Tinkering on cars with us. Playing games with us. Going on vacation with us. It was always WITH US and for us. I don't think he ever did much for himself. He took joy in us. And that is who he was. </div>
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My heart hurts. But I think what some might not realize is that it's not simply because he's not here. I miss him, I miss him terribly. But the majority of my pain stems from how selfless he was, and how much he endured on my account. The tears that are flowing and the memories swirling around my head are of all that he tried to hide and how much he suffered, to spare me and my siblings the pain of knowing his pain. Little things like when I'd ask him how he was feeling, and he'd say "okay," when in fact he was far from okay. Or how many times he stubbed his toe because he couldn't see or walk very well during the last weeks and yet he wouldn't raise his voice in frustration but humbly kept going, trying to hide the pain. He had spasms which we called severe hiccups for the last week of his life. At one point I heard him say that they gave him a pounding headache and with each one he felt as though his brain would explode. In that week, I only heard that one small complaint. I said sorry that he had the hiccups several times, and he would wave his hand as to say, it's okay, don't worry about me. The living room was his bedroom for the last weeks. 9 kids, 4 of their spouses, 6 grand-kids, and he camped out in the middle of it all, in pain and humiliation and chose to grin-and-bear-it. These things seem small and are only a tiny glimpse.</div>
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I'm still having a hard time getting past how terrible the past several months have been. I have a hard time dwelling on good memories because my mind always drifts back to something that reminds me of his suffering. I want to be able to talk to my kids and tell them stories of "Pappy" but I still can't keep my composure long enough to tell them. </div>
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My dad made life wonderful and fun. He imparted wisdom and joy. He listened well, and spoke encouragement and life into those around him. His embrace was strong and gentle and I miss it so much. I am so thankful to have been blessed with such a dad. And though I wish I could have had another 29 years with him, in the 29 years I had, he extended more love, joy and kindness than most experience in a 100. Life is hard and at times it seems the opposite of beautiful. One day....one day I'll see him again and all will be well.</div>
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-77331675682509046182015-04-13T10:20:00.000-07:002015-04-13T10:20:31.982-07:00It's been two months. It feels like years. It's hard without you, dad. I will often think of something that I want to tell you and I wish so badly I could call you or even text you and hear your response.<br />
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I cleaned out the car a couple of weeks ago. We found so many special rocks that the kids picked out of your rock bowl. The kids and I will treasure them forever.<br />
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Hazel is scooting around everywhere. She uses her toes and inches along like a worm. She gets where she wants to go though.<br />
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I fixed the freezer, AGAIN. You'd be proud.<br />
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We are almost caught up on the books and the taxes. I kind of have fun bookkeeping. I never really realized it until I started doing them again.<br />
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We are getting ready to list our house. Once it sells, we will rent until we are ready to build that dream house we showed you. We may even do it on that property, I know you saw the vision with that property. You were actually the one that sealed the deal and really inspired us that it could be what we wanted. If it's meant for us, it'll still be available when we're ready.<br />
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The kids miss you. We were making cards for out-of-town family the other day and as we were discussing who we should make cards for Pike said, "and one for Pappy! 'cuz he moved." When I asked where you moved to, he responded, "to heaven."<br />
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We watched Interstellar a couple of nights ago. You'd find it interesting. It got me thinking about time and how different it must be for you and for God compared to us here. One day we'll all be on the same page. But for now, we don't understand.<br />
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You have inspired me to be compassionate. To be kind to others. And to enjoy the simple things in life and say yes more. I'm trying to enjoy my family, my kids, and make memories. You lived and enjoyed life and I'm trying to do the same.<br />
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Love you, dad.Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-64766767552203939582015-03-16T09:01:00.004-07:002015-03-16T09:01:45.611-07:00Trust<b style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4399995803833px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">"Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)"</b><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4399995803833px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><br />
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You call me out upon the waters<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />The great unknown where feet may fail<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And there I find You in the mystery<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />In oceans deep<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />My faith will stand<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And I will call upon Your name<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And keep my eyes above the waves<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />When oceans rise<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />My soul will rest in Your embrace<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />For I am Yours and You are mine<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Your grace abounds in deepest waters<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Your sovereign hand<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Will be my guide<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />You've never failed and You won't start now<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />So I will call upon Your name<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And keep my eyes above the waves<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />When oceans rise<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />My soul will rest in Your embrace<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />For I am Yours and You are mine<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><b><i>Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Let me walk upon the waters<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Wherever You would call me<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And my faith will be made stronger<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />In the presence of my Savior</i></b><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Oh, Jesus, you're my God!<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I will call upon Your name<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Keep my eyes above the waves<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />My soul will rest in Your embrace<br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I am Yours and You are mine</div>
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<i> </i>I've sang these words and cried out so many times over the past months. I've sang them in hopes that through hard times, faith and trust would lead to a celebration of healing and that I would be proclaiming to the world around me that God can, and indeed did, heal. I've sang them with the intent that no matter the outcome, my faith will be made stronger as I am lead to walk on water. And yet, here I am, lost. I don't know what to sing. I don't know what to pray. I don't understand how my faith is possibly being made stronger when I feel so weak. </div>
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<i><span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; vertical-align: text-top;"><b style="color: #0092f2;"><br /></b></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; vertical-align: text-top;"><b style="color: #0092f2;"><br /></b></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; vertical-align: text-top;"><b style="color: #0092f2;">Psalm 130:<a href="http://biblehub.com/psalms/130-5.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;">5</a></b></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">I wait for the</span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span class="name" style="color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant: small-caps; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">Lord</span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">, my whole being waits, </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">and in his word I put my hope. </span><span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; vertical-align: text-top;"><b style="color: #0092f2;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/psalms/130-6.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;">6</a></b></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">I wait for the Lord </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">more than watchmen wait for the morning, </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">more than watchmen wait for the morning.</span></i></div>
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And so, I continue to ask, "Spirit lead me where I would never imagine going. Take me deeper than I think I can go. And make my faith stronger." Trust. </div>
Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-31127928670561301492015-02-21T21:15:00.000-08:002015-02-21T21:15:03.506-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Love you. Have fun!" Those were the last words my dad spoke to me. I had been visiting that Friday morning and the afternoon rolled around and I packed up the boys and said, "we're leaving dad. Love you!" He grabbed my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, "Love you. Have fun!" I had a feeling at that moment that those were the last words I'd be hearing from him. After I got home, I sat down to write my dad a note to describe how much I love him. My dad had been having a hard time reading over the last few days so I recorded my letter and sent it over for him to listen to. My mom said he was coherent when she played it for him that evening. He laughed and he cried. Here is the recording: <iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/J4wGm6alOqw/0.jpg" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/J4wGm6alOqw?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-34899067015123673502015-02-14T10:47:00.000-08:002015-02-14T10:47:28.774-08:00No words.I have no words. I haven't for a week. My heart hurts. My head is in a daze. You see, my dad was the most selfless person I know. (My mom being right beside him on the selfless scale.) He was a man that looked to serve others. And his children were pretty high on the list of those he served the most. He worked tirelessly to make each of us happy. He never complained and I think that is why it hurts so bad. He gave, and gave, and gave and yet never complained. He could have a busted knee or a sprained ankle and work right through it without anyone knowing his pain.<br />
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Over the past 4 months, my dad suffered day and night. When I asked how he was doing, he would usually look to the ground or away and say, "okay." He wasn't feeling okay, but he pretended. He didn't want us to worry or feel bad. So he'd simply say, "okay." My dad had stage IV renal cell kidney cancer. It spread to his brain, his lungs and his bones. He had a tumor that he said he could feel crawling up his rib cage. His bones were so week that he had several fractured ribs. In late January, we found out that the medication he was originally on, didn't seem to be effective and that the cancer had spread more. Even after gamma knife surgery on the brain, the lesions multiplied. The outlook was grim.<br />
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When my dad sat us down to tell us, he wept. But what hurts so badly is that his words were so selfless. He said, "When you hear me cry and see the sorrow in my face, it's not because I'm afraid or because I'm sad about my condition. It's because I look around and see the love in each of you." He knew where he was going. He submitted his life to God's ultimate plan. Throughout this journey, over and over again, my dad said that he trusts God. God is good and He will be glorified through this. Even the night before he took his last breath, he praised God. My mom and brother said that the evening before he passed, he had a conversation and his message was that the world is full of God isn't this or that but HE IS and our message and our lives need to proclaim that He is. He is Risen. He is Faithful. He is Just. He is awesome. He is kind. He is good. He is amazing. He is here. He is Love. HE IS.<br />
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My dad was greatly touched by the compassion that was extended to him during this time. He was so touched by the sincerity in peoples words. He told me that when he comes out of this, he is never going to pass by someone hurting without reaching out to them. He said he learned what compassion looks like. What my dad didn't know at the time though, is how many people saw this trait in him. And how many people were touched by him simply saying, "how are you?" in the middle of his busy work day. I hope to pick up where my dad left off and not pass by anyone hurting without reaching out to them. In honor of my dad.<br />
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I am still at a loss for words to describe how much I love him, how much I will miss him and how sad I am right now. Maybe some day I'll have the right words. But I want the world to know that God is good. And that my family is still praising God right along side my dad.<br />
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<i>And when my final breath you lend</i></div>
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<i>I'll thank you for the life you gave</i></div>
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<i>But that won't mean the praises end</i></div>
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<i>'Cause I won't be silenced by the grave</i></div>
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<i>And your praise goes on, I'll be runnin' to your throne</i></div>
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<i>With every nation, tribe and tongue</i></div>
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<i>To your arms I'll fly, I'll gaze into your eyes</i></div>
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<i>Then I'll know as I am known and your praise goes on</i></div>
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<i>And your praise goes on</i></div>
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<i>And your praise goes on</i></div>
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<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span>Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-13303000019103997992015-01-16T12:37:00.000-08:002015-01-16T12:37:31.109-08:004 months and such a breezeHazel is 4 months old. She brings so much joy. She loves her sisters....and her brothers...but mostly her sisters. They make her laugh. And sometimes they make her cry. She is deathly afraid of dogs barking. And she loves to snuggle with her mommy. She is a dream of a baby. Mostly always content and happy.<br />
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-37098390868569920432015-01-08T08:00:00.001-08:002015-01-08T08:01:21.614-08:00Dear elderly lady at the grocery store:Thank you. Thank you for taking the time to come up to me and introduce yourself. Thank you for saying how cute my baby's toes are and not scolding me for not putting her socks back on her feet for the 10th time that day. Thank you for saying "God bless you!" when I answered your question asking whether this was my first baby. Thank you for expressing how you have 3 children (who are now in their 50's) and believe you selfishly stopped there but in hindsight wish you had went on for a 5th or 6th child. Thank you for recognizing my husband's goodwill and sacrifice in having and supporting such a family and encouraging me to go home and give him a hug.<br />
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These are the women that inspire me. The women that look at families and children as a blessing and a joy, that see the value in lifetime relationships and lifelong discipleships that can encourage and nurture to love our savior more fully.<br />
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In the middle of the tornado, dirty kitchen floors, piles of laundry, poopy diapers, messy faces and countless other not-so-pretty pictures, I am reminded that I am greatly blessed because THIS is what life is all about. This is what makes life worthwhile.<br />
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-80609208866570453102014-12-16T13:30:00.001-08:002014-12-16T13:33:34.513-08:00Life.Part of me doesn't want to document life right now. I want aspects of this season to be gone and never to remember them again. And yet there are aspects that I want to freeze and savor the moments forever. Because of this, for today, I am only writing about the aspects I want to bottle up and give away so that others can get the warm fuzzy feelings they give me.<br />
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Things I love:<br />
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The way Pear can make Hazel smile and laugh. Pear has a special touch, it's either her face or her voice that can instantly make Hazel happy. It is a joy to watch.<br />
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When I ask Crew, "would you like to read a book with me?" And he responds, "yeah, of course." And after that, I ask, "would you like a snack?" And he again responds, "yeah, of course." Yes isn't in his vocabulary, instead it is, "yeah, of course."<br />
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How excited Pike gets when he's talking about a Lego set or a funny part in a movie or any number of things. His excitement sometimes makes me laugh. And I am trying to be a good listener and engage with him and not just say, "oh, really?" But really take an interest and talk about what it is that excites him. When I do, I am not disappointed. He is fun with a capital f.<br />
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How Hazel wakes up smiley and talking in her most adorable tone and just tells me how much she loves me. I know that's what she's saying. ;)<br />
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How Jovie is such a little homemaker and mommy. Always looking for something to do or some way to help. And then she always says "you're welcome for holding Hazel," before I even uttered thank you. She is like her momma, and words are important to her.<br />
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I don't think Stephen knows how happy my heart gets when he plays "fight" with the boys. Or when he lets the girls help him in the kitchen. Or when I come home from the store to see all of them squished on one couch cushion watching the Food Network. He is a joy in my life. I couldn't do this without him and I wouldn't want to anyway.<br />
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I love my big family. And I'm thankful they love me.Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-18010205838775002632014-10-14T13:32:00.000-07:002014-10-21T13:33:33.761-07:00pain and processingLate Thursday, I called my mom. Stephen had been out of town at a conference for 3 days and I needed to talk to someone. I called my mom and she barely answered the phone. I could tell she was upset but I thought maybe she was just really missing Piper who got married just a few days before. When I asked if that was it she didn't answer. I waited a few moments and nothing was uttered. I said, "well, I understand if you don't want to talk about it. But if you need an ear, I am here." To which she said she didn't know what she could share. And then my heart sunk. She went on, "you know how we thought dad had pneumonia? He has cancer." Neither of us could talk. We just cried and I tried to reassure her that it would be okay and God is in control.<br />
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The following day is when we found out more. My dad was diagnosed with stage IV kidney cancer which spread to the hip and the lungs. This was the hardest thing I have ever had to hear. I don't want to think of my dad in pain. I don't want to think of my siblings watching him go through treatment. I don't want to think of how my mom will cope. I don't want to think of whether my kids will continue to get to be "sacks of potatoes" heading out to the car. I don't want to think of not having my dad as a sounding wall that I go to any time I need wisdom or advice. I don't want to think of missing him. He's my dad. He's always been there. He is the leader in our family. He is the one that no matter what, is grounded in his faith and seems unshaken. He brings joy. He is selfless. He works harder than anyone I know. He is generous. He is loving. He's my dad.<br />
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My heart is breaking. I am processing. I don't understand why. I hate this.Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-28552589330944120832014-10-10T16:51:00.001-07:002014-10-10T16:51:54.858-07:00My sweet Hazel. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hazel. Sweet Hazel. Where do I begin? Though you were a surprise, you were not an accident. On the contrary, I prayed for you for years. And in fact, deep in my heart, I knew you would be in our family even when we thought your big brother Crew might be our youngest child. My heart told me differently. I never thought our family was complete without a "Hazel." You can ask Mammy, or Daddy. I told them that the only thing that was missing before you joined our family was "a little girl named Hazel."<br />
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I found out you were growing in my tummy shortly after I told Aunt Tara (who was pregnant with little Hudson) that it's "too bad we weren't pregnant at the same time. It would be fun to have cousins close in age." And then you came! I am so glad that you did.<br />
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My pregnancy was fairly easy with you. I never got sick. And you grew just right. But at the end, you teased me. My body would tell me you were going to come soon, maybe even that day, and then you wouldn't. This teasing went on for weeks. Until finally, one night just as I was sitting down to rest for the evening, around 8:30 pm, I felt my tummy get tight saying that you were going to be coming soon. And then by 9:30 pm I told Stephen we should go to the hospital so that you could come and I could hold you. We got checked in at the hospital around 10:30 pm on September 11th. I really didn't want you to be born on September 11th because that is a sad day. So I waited and you came at 12:10 am on September 12th. You came so swiftly that all of the nurses weren't even ready for you! Some of them got frustrated with each other because they didn't take each other seriously when one told the other to come quickly because Hazel is coming. You came out with your umbilical cord wrapped around your neck twice, and that caused you to have a hard time catching your breath at first. I just held you and rubbed your back and told you to breath and soon enough, you did. You weighed 7lb 2oz and were 20" long. You grew in my tummy for 41 weeks! And you came with just a little bit of hair on your head.<br />
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I was immediately in love. I waited so long to meet you and there you were. I hope someday you get to have the same experience I did with you with your own baby; an easy pregnancy, a swift easy birth and the love and adoration that comes with meeting a baby for the very first time.<br />
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I love you my sweet Hazel.Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-90560574214657734362014-06-07T10:43:00.000-07:002014-06-07T11:12:06.688-07:00It's the garage door's fault.I don't know why I post stuff like this. I guess I'm not ashamed of doing stupid things. I guess I also like to laugh. So here's a free one for you. Because, well, I think some of the best memories are made through laughter.<br />
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I drive a mini-van. I never wanted to. But I do. And I'm cool with it because it means I also carry some pretty great cargo. I mean 4 (soon to be 5) beautiful little faces that sing at the top of their lungs, talk 100mph (all at the same time mind you,) kick the backs of the seats and wipe their boogies on the arm rests, it's pretty great. They are all in car seats too. It's the law.<br />
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Getting into the car is a task that takes an adult a swift 60 seconds. Usually an adult has time to put their shades on, maybe even some lipstick, before heading out the driveway. I'm lucky if we can do it in 5 minutes. Somebody always forgets to go potty, can't find their shoes, decides jumping on the seats is much more fun than getting buckled and so it goes. There are no shades and there is no lipstick. Actually, as I'm driving down the road, I end up dumping my purse out to grab a mint or a piece of gum because I forgot to brush my teeth that morning. This is the reality I call life.<br />
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Our garage door is new. I mean the house was only built 3 years ago. But for some reason, it opens incredibly slow. We have a button inside our van that is programmed to open the garage door. I never use it when parked in the garage because we also have a button to open the trunk and they are fairly close together and I have a great fear that I will press the wrong one and then the van trunk will be crushed. So, I always use the clicker that is mounted on the wall in our garage to open the door. Well, one day, on my way headed out to do errands (BY MYSELF!!!) I pressed the clicker to open the garage door. I got in the van, started the engine, put on my shades and proceeded to back out. Crunch. The garage door was only half way up. Bummer. Dent in the garage door. Scratch on the van. That's pretty stupid right? I mean who backs into their garage door from the inside?! Obviously me. But what's more stupid...I did it again...a week later. I will have you know, our garage door did have issues. It was not normal for it to open that slow and after the second time of me backing into it, we decided it was time to get it fixed. I haven't had any more incidents. And it's only a little dent and a little scratch. But try explaining that one to your husband..."ummm, I backed into the garage door. It was just taking too long to open so I thought I'd push my way out!" And then a week later...."ummm. I did it again. I backed into the garage door, again."<br />
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All this to say, having it take a long time to load into the car isn't such a bad thing. At least you always know that the garage door will be completely open by the time you get in.Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-46434725448726493112014-06-01T13:11:00.002-07:002014-06-01T20:51:44.308-07:00Disneyland 2014<i>The happiest place on earth, and spending it with the people I love most; we embarked on our first ever real family vacation. A real vacation! Not just a long weekend, or a few days off work, or time as a family welcoming in a new baby. Vacation.</i><br />
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<i>Our hotel room was a marvelous family-friendly suite and the hotel amenities included a water park which was perfect for our kids. We settled in after a short flight and shuttle ride which arrived right on time. We ventured down to the pool to let the kids play while Stephen and I lounged side by side, talking about our future and sipping pina coladas. We took a short walk to get dinner and headed back for movie night at the hotel.</i><br />
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<i>The following day was Mother's Day. We spent it at my dream spot: Disneyland! I got to take the kids on all of the magical rides I went on as a child, and live my dream of having a beautiful family and spending quality time having fun together.</i><br />
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<i>On Monday morning we went to California Adventure. Per my planning, Stephen went to get a fastpass for Radiator Springs Racers while the kids and I got in line for the Toy Story ride. One ride down, onto the next! Stephen looked at me with his dreamy eyes and gave me a smile which I knew meant "I love it here!" We continued our day leisurely and took breaks when needed and hit everything on my list, just as planned.</i><br />
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<i>Tuesday we decided to stay at our hotel and simply enjoy the water park. It was a nice break. The sun was shining, again Stephen and I lounged while the kids played and sipped on another delicious pina colada and talked about our next trip.</i><br />
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<i>Wednesday, our last day at the park, was a balmy 80 degrees. We took the kids to meet all of their favorite characters. The girls dressed up in their princess dresses and were in heaven as they pretended to be Anna and Cinderella while traipsing through the park. Pike got picked to be a padwan at the Jedi Training Academy and his trip was made. We sadly left the park anticipating our next trip.</i><br />
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<i>The kids were angels. We bonded as a family. We grew closer together and loved every minute of it. Everywhere we went people asked, "how do you do it?" Stephen and I lovingly looked at each other and just said "we are blessed." We made it home Thursday and Praise God for such a wonderful trip.</i><br />
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Haha! Did that sound too good to be true? Well, that's the way the trip played out in my head. For weeks, no months, prior to our departure. I had envisioned just that. Okay, let's try documenting the trip as it actually happened.<br />
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Saturday morning, we got to the airport right on time! Just 2 hours prior to our departure. Only I couldn't find my phone. "Uh, Stephen, I left my phone in the van." He quickly called the parking shuttle and they had to go back, get it, and then bring it to Stephen at the departure drop-off spot. I stayed at the baggage check with 4 kids, bouncing off the walls. 20 minutes passed. Stephen said, "they couldn't find it." I emptied my purse for the second time and voila! It was in there all along. Good start, eh? Our flight was smooth. An ear ache here and there between kids but nothing too serious. We arrived at 1pm. Got our bags and headed out for the shuttle. Which didn't show up until 2pm. Waiting on a sidewalk with excited kids, who are also starving hungry since they hadn't eaten lunch yet, for an hour, is not exactly fun. But the shuttle came and we were at our hotel by 3:30. Starving, we decide to go to the hotel's restaurant. First thing I did? Stubbed my big toe on the door stop. Hard. Busted my toe nail and completely ruined my pedicure I had done the week before. Bummer. Food was bad. Service was worse. The trip has no where to go but up from here! Right?<br />
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Well, I could give you nitty-gritty details, but honestly, I don't want to remember those. So I'll sum it up with this: Disneyland was packed. In the morning, it felt like shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. Everyone would crowd in line and sprint to their favorite ride or to get fastpass tickets. I'm all for a good deal, and also for getting the most bang for my buck by getting to go on a ride without waiting in line. But not like that, it's just not my style. The temperatures were HOT. 104 degrees hot. And for kids that think 65 degree temperatures call for swimming and sprinklers, those temperatures caused whining and misery. Jovie and Pike especially couldn't deal with the heat. Pear and Pike got sick starting on Monday. We had kids with fevers the remainder of the trip. We attempted to keep the fevers down and continued on with our trip but they just weren't themselves. Every time we'd attempt to go to the parks, the kids would ask if we could go back to the hotel. With our 3 day park tickets, we spent a total of probably 8 hours at the parks. Yeah, we didn't really get much bang for our buck there.<br />
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We did have our share of fun and memorable moments. Pear LOVED everything at Disneyland and she really was a trooper for being sick and making the best of it. The highlight for me was our last evening at Disneyland, I stayed at the park for an extra 2 hours with just Pear. (The rest of the family wanted to go back to the hotel.) And Pear was in heaven for those 2 hours. She kept telling me how happy she was and how much fun she was having. And she talked, and talked, and talked. And she would just burst out in song anytime she remembered a Disney song that matched the ride we were going on or what we were seeing.<br />
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Another highlight was Radiator Springs Racers. We got fastpasses to avoid the 2 hour line and the kids waited all day to go on this ride. Stephen, walked up with the 3 bigger kids and the lady measuring Pike said, "oh, I see light between the guideline and his head. Sorry. He can't go." This was the Cars ride that Pike had been dreaming of for months! Are you serious? An eighth of an inch! I told Stephen to go ahead and I would take care of Pike. He got the "stroller pass" so that I could go on as soon as he got off. And I headed to the nearest restaurant, grabbed a couple wads of napkins and stuffed them in Pike's shoes. No doubt, he was tall enough this time. And it was a great ride! Pike was also in awe of Thor and when Thor asked him who his favorite superhero is, he quickly responded, "Iron Man!"<br />
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Jovie is a silent one. She rarely expresses her joys and always makes her miseries known. Deep down, I think she had a little fun. But when I ask her, she says, "I hated it. It was just too hot! One day was like a desert." I know she did enjoy aspects but between the walking (which she isn't crazy about,) the waiting (if you know Jovie, you know she cannot be idle,) and the heat (of all the kids, she melts the most in the heat,) it was a bit more than she could handle.<br />
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Crew loved the parade and though hesitant to meet the characters, he followed big brother and sisters and put on a grin for all of the pictures. He couldn't go on too many rides and he was often hesitant on the rides he could go on, but as he watched the older kids' responses to the the thrill, he forced a grin and pretended to be at ease and having fun.<br />
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The hotel really was amazing. It was within easy walking distance to Disneyland, had an AMAZING water park for the kids and it was a suite with a total of 4 beds. The only downside was the fact that besides a McDonald's and a Pizza joint, there weren't really food options. The hotel advertises that they have a grocery market, which they aren't lying. They do have one but their prices were outrageous! We are talking $4.00 for one of those single serve cereals in a plastic container and $5.00 for an ice cream cookie sandwich.<br />
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Thursday finally arrived and we were all ready to go home. Crew now had a fever and didn't feel well. The shuttle ride to the airport was long but nothing compared to our flight. Pike was being extremely out of control and seemed to throw a fit about everything. Of course he refused to go pee at the airport, but as soon as the plane was in the air, he couldn't hold it. Airplane bathrooms are lovely, right? Yeah, they are even more lovely when you are pregnant and trying to take a finicky 3 year old who still sits backwards on the toilet. We finally land and we figure we are in the clear, almost home! Of course, Pike discovers that he must've had the urge to poo at some point but didn't and now he had the dreaded SKID MARKS. Skid marks in his undies are a big deal. And rather than quietly whispering the fact to me and requesting fresh ones, he yells so that everyone on the plane can hear, "I HAVE SKID MARKS!" He then continued to yell, "I have to go now!" about 100 times as we were stuck near the back of the plane while everyone slowly walked out. That's the worst of it right? Oh but no, the boys continue with their extremely difficult behaviors of the day. One fight led to another and in the end, Crew ended up vomiting on the train cram packed with people on the way to the baggage claim. I ended up stripping him down to his diaper and wrapping him in my coat until we got to our bags.<br />
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Our trip was memorable. We are blessed. We were able to go on a trip and BE together. Moments were miserable. And moments were amazing. I cried the next day, (that may be due to the fact that I'm pregnant, or it may be due to the fact that the trip was just that drastically different from the way I envisioned it.) Either way, I am thankful. Thankful for the opportunity. Thankful for my family. Thankful for this life. And today, I am laughing.<br />
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-51578755269207099382014-03-04T12:04:00.000-08:002014-03-04T12:04:50.624-08:00Some days are trying.This post is simply to put in perspective that although I mean it when I say kids are an incredible joy, the fact that they are extremely difficult at times is also very true.<br />
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A simple thing we do every Tuesday is go to Story Time at our local community library. We usually go a little early to return our books from the previous week and fill our book bag with new ones. This morning we did just this. Pike found his book, an Iron Man adventure book. When Crew laid his eyes on it, he had to have it too. Thus the fight began. I quickly scoured the shelf for another super hero book and thankfully found one that looked very similar with batman! I ask the kids to come with me to browse the parenting books (I need all the help I can get!) but along the way, Crew and Pike decided they needed to pull all of the category tabs off of the shelves. Thankfully they had only pulled 3 by the time I noticed and that was easily fixed. We reached the parenting books but nothing caught my eye. On to checking out. Normally the kids each get to scan their own books. Well, this week there was already a lady with her children using the stool and the shorter counter that allows kids to scan. So I said I would scan the books this week. Pike's response, "But I want to do my books!" I say quietly, "Well, Pike, if you can reach up here, you can scan yours." He manages on his tippy-toes and with a little help. Next we charge off to Story Time in the meeting room. Name tags! (Why do they have kids write their own names on tiny stickers WITH A PERMANENT MARKER?) Pear and Jovie quietly make their name tag and sit down. Pike starts his, "Ah nuts! Mom, I messed up." (Remember all of the talking that Pike does is in his only volume: LOUD.) I give him a new one. Now Crew wants one and he thinks he needs to make his own. Now I have two boys with blue sharpie all over their hands. Pike still has his Iron Man book in tow but Crew lost his somewhere on the way to the Story Time room. This is going to be trouble. It began the moment we sat down. Pike was curiously looking through his book and Crew wanted to look at it as well. So, I tell Pike we are going to put the book away until after Story Time. This is when the fit came in. While all of the other kids are listening quietly to the story, Pike is yelling, "Mom! I Don't want to! But mom! I want to look at it! Why won't you read me IRON MAN!" I tell him that I will have to sit on the bench outside with him if he can't obey me. So he yells, "OKAY! I'll put it away! Mom! Hmph!" (Now, I should have taken him out and disciplined him right then and there. But it's not so easy with 4. To take him out, means that in a way, Pear and Jovie and Crew have to suffer for Pike's misbehaving. What do you do? This is where I need that parenting book to advise me.) The rest of Story Time Pike sat sulking and we ended up cutting out about 5 minutes before it was finished because Crew was crying for lunch. It was only 10:55 am but he couldn't wait a second longer. Thankfully I packed sandwiches in the car and he was able to eat on our way home. The end.<br />
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Just a glimpse into 30 minutes of my trying day. If you want to get a full picture, just multiply this by about 20, mix in some laughs and you pretty much have it. :)<br />
Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-59059356358648372662014-03-02T08:52:00.004-08:002014-03-02T08:52:49.106-08:00Maui, Hawaii 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I'm sitting in the house on this cold wet rainy day in March, I am thinking of the glorious days in Hawaii. Maui really is my happy place. I love it. I love the sun. I love the relaxed feel. I love the beach vibe. I love the iced coffees. I love the saltwater in my hair. And I am looking forward to going back. During our most recent trip, we stayed at Makena Beach and Golf Resort. It was luxurious. Each morning we dined outside to a smorgasbord of a breakfast. And then we'd mosey on down the beach to enjoy the view. We'd lounge in our lawn chairs and read a chapter or two of a book. And then go for a swim. 80 and sunny every day. We took the Road to Hana and found it to beautiful but we'd rather be on the beach. We went to Old Lahaina to browse the shops and eat at Cool Cat's Cafe. Back to the beach, our favorite spot. We really spent 75% of our time relaxing on the beach and snorkeling.<br />
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Now, we are on a mission to go back again. Our hope is to go with all of the kids in a year or two and spend a month there. The ultimate goal is to buy a condo there, rent it out for the majority of the year and then be able to live there for a month or two out of the year FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES! We are dreaming big, working hard and with God's blessings, we can't wait to see it unfold!<br />
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-17407210393972582032014-03-02T08:33:00.001-08:002014-03-02T08:33:20.066-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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People are baffled. They don't even know yet that I'm expecting a fifth and they look at my ducks in a row and ask, "are they all yours?!" Sometimes I catch them looking and shaking their head, not necessarily in a disrespectful way, just in an astonished way, as I walk into the store with four in tow. I smile. I am blessed. I wouldn't have it any other way. And this is what baffles people. Why?</div>
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These kids make me laugh. They bring so much joy. The way Crew scrunches his nose and furrows his eyebrows while talking gibberish that I honestly have no idea what it actually means. The way that Pear is so entranced at ballet, watching herself dance in the mirror while making funny faces and doing her own little jig while everyone else is following the teacher. The way that Pike incessantly talks in his loudest volume (his only volume,) about anything and everything. The way that Jovie says "mom, watch this!" and proceeds to jump or do some silly little thing that in her mind is an amazing act. And I applaud in awe while holding back a chuckle. It's the little things that bring me joy.</div>
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And then there are the crazy instances where I walk into the grocery store, plant the boys in the ginormous race car shopping cart and before we even get through the door, my flip-flop breaks. So off I hobble, one shoe on, one shoe off to find a new pair of flip-flops while my boys are racing and Pike is talking about my broken flip-flop in his only volume. It's these humbling moments that make me laugh. </div>
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-691337425483272991.post-8491413140350039202014-02-14T09:27:00.000-08:002014-02-14T09:27:01.137-08:00Why 5 kids are better4 kids seems like a happy number. Especially considering we have 2 boys, and 2 girls. What more could I ask for? I mean, I have it made, I go to the store, people see me frantic and less than put together, I HAVE 4 KIDS, no excuses needed! I stay home for more than a month, I HAVE 4 KIDS, perfectly understandable. My house is a mess, I HAVE 4 KIDS, enough said. There is no middle child. 4 kids means we always have a party. I didn't get dinner on the table, again, I HAVE 4 KIDS, time for take-out!<br />
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Yet still, part of me thinks there are plenty of reasons why 5 kids might just be better than 4.<br />
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1. All of the above statements regarding having 4 kids, still ring true with 5<br />
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2. When the kids vote on things, there has got to be a tie-breaker, how else will we be able to decide whether to eat at McDonalds or Taco Bell? Or whether to watch Star Wars or Cinderella?<br />
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3. I have been blessed with 4 children. Each one has brought joy and laughter and each one has brought challenges which have caused me to learn and grow. I can't say that any one child has brought any depression or misery, (I'd be lying if I didn't say there have been moments of depression or misery but they all fade in comparison to the joys.)<i> If each child can bring so much joy and cause my heart to get that much bigger and cause me to grow that much more, why would I NOT want such a blessing?</i><br />
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4. Our 7 passenger van is crying out to be filled, there is 1 seat left, who will claim it?<br />
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5. I truly think it is a gift, especially for a girl, to have a baby sibling when she is between the age of 5-10. I have 2 girls in that age range. Think about it, a real live baby doll, that smells good, coddles and coos, you can dress and most of all, you have a love and bond that you will never out-grow.<br />
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6. I am already doing all of the work, (cooking, cleaning, schooling, wiping bums,) what's 1 more?<br />
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7. Imagine spending Christmas with 1 or 2 kids, well, with 5 kids it is that much more fun! And when they are grown, you are bound to always have at least a couple of them home for the holidays and when they all gather, party on!<br />
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8. When there are more kids, there are more messes and more needs which in turn leads to kids being guided into helping the family out and becoming less selfish. It's a given. (And yes, I feel this is a good thing.)<br />
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9. What a joy to be able to share God's love with another soul.<br />
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10. If God forms a baby in my inmost being and chooses a destiny for him/her, who am I to say he picked the wrong mother?<br />
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All of this leads me to say, #5 is on the way and I couldn't be more thrilled!<br />
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05584775370017408253noreply@blogger.com2