tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55795501735994633122024-03-14T01:28:18.151-05:00Dulce's Crazy LifeUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-42625744437056154892015-05-13T11:01:00.002-05:002015-05-13T11:20:19.076-05:00Advice for a Recent Graduate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Young Adult,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br />See what I did there? I called you a young adult. It may freak you out but you'll soon find out that it's pretty fun. It is my privilege to share with you a few words of encouragement as you're graduating. Hold on tight! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1. Breathe. Your life may run in fast forward for a little bit. When you have a chance, take a breath and look at where you are. Take time to appreciate the highs as well as the lows. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />2. Party. Let me explain. My favorite Sunday School lesson I've ever taught was entitled, "Jesus Partied and So Should You." Jesus understood the value of fellowship. He didn't spend his 33 years on earth a hermit. He surrounded himself with a variety of people, made genuine friends, and celebrated with them. The first miracle recorded was performed at a wedding, aren't you glad He was on the guest list? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />3. Forgive. Forgiving others can be easy; Forgiving yourself, not so much. You may be amazed at the dumb things you can be capable of doing. Whether it's relationships, class loads, finances, fashion choices, or forgetting your mothers birthday; something may slip through your better thinking. Give yourself the gift of grace and forgiveness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Remember there's a community of people cheering you on your journey. You'll be great.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dulce</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-13817957953485195232014-06-30T10:39:00.003-05:002014-06-30T15:48:06.353-05:00Open Letter to Scout Camp Leaders<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">An Open Letter to our Scout Camp Leaders,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’m writing this letter shortly after sending two pieces of
my heart in your direction. The joy on
their faces and the hopes they have could not fit into their foot-lockers and
duffle bags. I have meticulously read,
re-read, and triple checked the scout packing lists. Santa only checks his list twice so I feel
like I’ve one-upped the big man. I have
researched on Pinterest and Google for other well-intentioned mothers who may have
some tips I can learn from. Shirts have
been rolled, rubber banded, and I’ve sent enough extra socks for my boys and
perhaps their whole packs/troops. I have
followed the “be prepared” mindset as best I can and with a deep breath I waved
my hand until their vehicles left my view.
Let’s be real, I probably stood there a little longer than I needed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now it’s your turn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let these boys have fun.
Let them bond through sweat and dirt.
Protect them at a reasonable distance.
Teach them something about the world around them that can’t be gleaned
from a device or game screen. Please
make sure they shower at least once because lake water is not really that
clean. I totally understand if you don’t
run to them right away when the fall, I didn’t pack a bubble wrap suit for them
so they will fall and probably get hurt.
When you read their name during mail call, perhaps a drumroll would be
good? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Know that it’s with a great deal of prayer, anxiety, and
expectation that I send these boys your way.
Please respect that. Also know
that all the loud and boisterous noises that you’ll hear throughout the day represent
a little void in their respective homes.
Honestly, that’s also a little break for us moms. By the end of the week I’m going to need that
back, please. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lastly, thank you.
Thanks for this opportunity for them to learn how to make healthy
friendships, how to resolve conflict if it comes up, and how to leave home and
come back in one piece. Also, please
make sure they are wearing clean socks when they get home. Thanks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Scout Mom </span></div>
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<o:p></o:p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-21095283114229117132013-12-12T10:05:00.000-06:002013-12-12T10:05:31.280-06:00Advent Devotional Part 1<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><i>The following was published in our Church Advent Devotional on Dec. 9th. I'll totally sign autographs if asked. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I
love to surprise people. I'm sneaky that way. Sometimes this means I'm stealthy
in the office and jump out at a co-worker. Sometimes it means sending a random
note to someone who is not expecting it. Sometimes it means showering someone
with hugs and kisses while they're trying to watch TV. (That one is mostly
reserved for the men in my house.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">What
I would not like is for someone to be surprised to find out that I'm in a
loving committed relationship with Christ. I think it would be so sad if
someone knew me but didn't know that very important facet of my life. I don't
wear a<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Got
Jesus" ball cap nor do I have a "Jesus is my Homey" t-shirt
(completely fine if you do, by the way). What I do have is a friendship with
Christ that I wear on my sleeve.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I encourage
you to love one another, even when the others aren't lovely. That's what Christ
did for us. By treating one another with kindness, we are making it much less
surprising when they learn that God's hand is on our heart and in our lives. He
commanded, not suggested, this of us:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Let
me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you
love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my
disciples-when they see the love you have for each other." </span></em><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">John
13:35 (The Message)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 11pt;">Dulce Stevens </span></i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-5264705953151420802013-09-03T13:16:00.001-05:002013-09-03T13:16:45.011-05:00My Advice to New Mothers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Something must be in the water nowadays because there are several friends and acquaintances who are with child right now. It makes me a little nostalgic and I think back on where I was when I waited for my sons to arrive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's the thing, I've only been pregnant twice. I'm hardly a Duggar or Osmond with a gaggle of kids but 2 is a respectable number. I must admit, they were ridiculously blissful pregnancies. Of course, I may feel that way because they happened 10 and 6 years ago and time erases the discomfort quicker than the stretch marks. Now that's not to say the process was uneventful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some people may not remember or know that we had Placenta Previa (that's right, I said placenta) with Jackson and some tough talks were had as a result. We knew that there was a possibility one or both of us might not make it the 9 months. I wish the conversations we had for no one as my husband had to hear what my preferences were if I were unable to make decisions for myself. All that to say, that child was bathed in prayer before his first breath and we experienced a miracle in the 3rd trimester that resulted in a bouncing baby boy through a great delivery. (Seriously, all deliveries should be so awesome).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, here's what I would say to those sweet ladies whose lives are about to change:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1. You do not get an extra crown in heaven for passing on the epidural. If I could have, I would have named my kids after the anesthesiologist. That hunky, hunky man. That said, remember that you are still in charge of what's going on. I knew when it was time to get the show on the road and said my goodbyes to the family and it's time for them to give me my space. Listen to your body! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2. Sometimes, well-meaning husbands can not for the life of them keep track of contractions. Bless them! At one point St. Bryan was convinced I had an 18 minute contraction. He had actually fallen asleep. So, while parenting books may want you to include them in the labor process, find a stopwatch or clock of your own. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3. If you find yourself feeling like a time bomb about to go off, remember these are the last little kicks and stretches you'll feel from that little one inside. Just smile as if you two have your own little joke. Pretty soon you'll have to share that child with the world! For now, they're all yours.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4. Baby Blues is totally fake. JUST KIDDING!! I am typically the happiest of humans. But, on day 6 I found myself in my bedroom rocking in bed with my baby in my arms like a mother bear. THIS is when you need to rely on your hubby, co-parent, or helper to clear the air. Casserole at the front door? Thanks! We'll see you later. Someone on the phone? They'll have to call you later. Come up with canned answers and stick to the script! You'll get through it in a couple days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5. Get a note for the door saying that those who ring the doorbell will need to be responsible for getting the crying baby back to sleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6. Ignore advice-givers. Yes, I realize this would now include me! There are well-meaning people out there who can give great advice for what worked for them. That's not to say it will work for you. Of my 2 kids, they were as different as day is to night. By the time they drew in their first breath, I knew them. I knew #1 was an extrovert and #2 was a snugglebug. I also knew they loved me and I loved them. Still do. So much. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">7. The spread-eagle baby on your chest sleeping position is the best feeling in the whole world. Hands down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, there you have it. I have reminisced and pep-talked you through these final days. Amazing, exhausting, and life-changing. And no, I'm not doing it again! Those chips are cashed in! </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-41418054673085746652013-06-06T10:21:00.001-05:002013-06-06T10:21:33.644-05:00How Was YOUR Weekend?<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For the last several years my sister and I have bought season tickets to Starlight Theater in Kansas City. I have always loved going to musical productions. I love the music, the atmosphere, the dressing up, everything about the 2 1/2 escape time. As an added bonus, I get to sit beside one of my favorite people during this time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">During my 24 hour trip to KC, we managed to:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eat at a <a href="http://www.edenalley.com/" target="_blank">Eden Alley</a>, a fabulous vegetarian restaurant where my first food baby of the weekend was conceived. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">See Spamalot where the Lady of the Lake rocked my socks. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eat the best french toast in town at a wonderful organic, all natural eatery: <a href="http://www.bluebirdbistro.com/" target="_blank">Blue Bird Bistro</a>. Soooo Gooood!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Walk around the River Market and bought yummy spices.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Conceive my 2nd food baby at <a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/34/1636114/restaurant/Kansas-City/El-Salvadoreno-Overland-Park" target="_blank">El Salvadoreno </a>in Overland Park. Their cheese pupusas make me so happy! </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Not a bad way to spend an evening!</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-68587217875174897822013-05-31T10:35:00.003-05:002013-05-31T10:42:51.922-05:00Really? 1 Year? Really??<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can't believe it's been a year since my last post. Ugh! I often think about writing. Many days I come up with my clever title and a fun picture that will engage the viewers. Much like life, though, I end up getting sidetracked and skip right over. Well, here's an update:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1. Friends - Some time ago Darling Bryan talked with me about my need for friends. He would go out every other week and some weekend with his guy friends and I could see the importance of it. I just didn't see my need for that kind of comrade connection. I have my family, I have my work, I have my kids. I didn't want to stretch into building a core group of girl friends. Little did I know that like was going to go all willy nilly on me. My sisters and brother were all out of town, my mother would be sick with cancer, and my boys would be independent thinkers and free spirits like their parents. Because of the convo with Bryan, I had decided to dive in to some promising relationships. In God's perfect timing, these friendships were born. Just in time for my moment of need, I had declared myself all-in. What could have been the most devastating time of my life, it was the most precious. I will never be the same and I'm so grateful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. Family - I am a proud mom. I know that every mother thinks their child is beautiful, wonderful, and above average. My children knock those children out of the park. I don't know how these boys have turned out as amazing as they are. In the past 12 months, we have had health issues batter down on our family unit. We've lost loved ones. We've been financially strapped. And you know what? They have weathered the storms stronger than any adult I know. Need some potassium? I have a 6-year-old budding nutritionist who will come up with a fix. Homeless people need a friend? I have a 10-year-old who talk with you and show you how to make paper airplanes because it can make your day better. Need a hug? These guys are the best huggers in town. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l52oEUzzmT8/Uai_tR8qxLI/AAAAAAAAAzM/xZro_8Fwgic/s1600/277524_10151186961247901_1172911824_o+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l52oEUzzmT8/Uai_tR8qxLI/AAAAAAAAAzM/xZro_8Fwgic/s320/277524_10151186961247901_1172911824_o+(1).JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, how did they end up like this? Easy - this guy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can never say enough about the man I married. He's my best friend. He's a loving father. He's a goofball and the geek to my nerd. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">3. Fun. Oh yes! There was fun!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After all, if you can't find joy in the tough times, you'll miss the rainbow. To smile and mean it is a beautiful thing. And to love each other despite your surrounding circumstances makes this life totally worth it. I love my life. All the crazy, too. It's like I've been given this gift of watercolor paints and I can choose what colors to use. I choose bright. I choose deep. I choose rich. I choose to create memories and cherish the experience of making the art. I choose to find the fun. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't know when I'll write again. Fingers crossed that it will be soon. If it's not, just know it's because I'm knee deep in color. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-8095358080847544882012-05-01T10:57:00.003-05:002012-05-01T10:58:41.732-05:00These Are a Few of My Favorite Things...<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You may not realize it but, I'm really a quirky kind of soul. So, with that, here are a few of my favorite things that I think you should check out:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">1. It is my opinion that Mollie Busta, host of Mollie B's Polka Party is the most talented woman in these United States. She can sing, dance, play the keyboard and trumpet at the same time. She can play the saxophone and smile at the same time. It's amazing! </span><a href="http://www.rfdtv.com/shows/music_&_entertainment/mollie_b_polka_party/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You have got to check out her show.</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">2. I love a good deal. I recently discovered a website that posts new free Kindle books. I have toyed with different sites and some of them are difficult to manuveur on an iphone. <a href="http://www.ereaderiq.com/free/" target="_blank">Not here!</a> eReader IQ has easy to use filters and lots 'o content. And once again: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">3. The Bossa Nova rocks my socks. I love to read while listening to some soothing covers by <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bossa-N-Essentials/dp/B0051QVULQ/ref=sr_shvl_album_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335887695&sr=301-1" target="_blank">this group</a>. This company does covers of famous songs with a Bossa flair. Quirky, yes!</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_yDVHalUX-s/T5_ytQxyKhI/AAAAAAAAAxY/XSdVz6mfZ_s/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_yDVHalUX-s/T5_ytQxyKhI/AAAAAAAAAxY/XSdVz6mfZ_s/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-11457138589606813402012-04-26T12:35:00.002-05:002012-04-26T13:31:46.361-05:00It's Begun<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yesterday we got the first round of chemo treatments. Let me first say that the staff at <a href="http://www.muhealth.org/newellishomepage.cfm?id=74">Ellis Fischel</a> have been amazing. There are no words to describe how we felt from the beautiful ladies at the front desk to the nurses to administered the chemo. The wonderful women in the gift shop and the volunteers to came and spoke with our family. Even the nutritionist who tended to us posed for a picture with Mom and was great. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I say we a lot. I know that it's Mom who is going through the physical treatments but I also feel like it's a journey we are all taking together. When we walked into the room, a lady was receiving treatment and was snuggled in her bed with her daughter. Mom looked over and said, "If it were any you girls, that's exactly where I'd be." You see, I was a part of my mother before my first breath. She is the only person I can say was with me at my first heartbeat. We are going through this in tandem and I know that she's right, if it were me, she'd be snuggled in bed with me watching "stories" together. So, that being said, I'm going to chronicle my journey with Mom. It's what I'm going through being her cheerleader. Being Dad's co-pilot. Being my sibling's informant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So, Day 1</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This is how Mom's Chemo is delivered. There were 5 different bags of fluid that went in through her port. Our nurse was so sweet and toward the end she said, we're not cutting this short, you pay for every last drop. They are in it to win it, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Real men wear pink...ribbons.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The sweet volunteers gave mom a little card saying they voted her the "cutest patient of the day" I agree, she's pretty darn cute.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The thing about this picture is, they aren't holding hands because of cancer. This is them. It just took on a new meaning to me today. They are partners on good days and on rotten ones. I could probably count on one hand the times I've seen my parents kiss in front of me. (Thanks for that!) I couldn't count in a million years, though, the ways they have demonstrated their love for one another. Whether it's holding hands down a hallway or sneaking a look out of the corner of my eye to see how one of them looks at the other in a way that says "I'm their biggest fan."</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Day 1, Treatment 1, done!</span><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-83558331445108106102012-03-26T10:33:00.000-05:002012-03-26T10:33:22.494-05:00I'm Mad...There, I said it<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Here's the deal, I seldom show a lot of emotion. Don't get me wrong, I have a smile on my face and I'm usually pretty even keeled. Sometimes I have worried that it's a result of some medications I have been taking. Well, I can now confirm that I am not without emotions entirely. I have them: anger, sadness, frustration. Sadly, it took something big to prove this to me. I have found something that makes me mad. It infuriates me so much that my eyes swell. I sob, I cry, I want to go Chuck Norris on something and hit a wall. <br />
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What could cause me to feel these things? Here it is: My mom has cancer. We found out through a routine mammogram that she has it in her left breast. The crazy thing is that there isn't a lump. Had we waited for a lump, it would have been too advanced. Women! Go get your mammograms!! So, we have a surgery coming in the near future and post-op treatment on the horizon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It's amazing the things you take notice of when going through something like this. Like the fact that before we hang up my mother says "bye Sweetie." I'm pretty sure she doesn't do that to telemarketers or other callers. Or how her hugs feel when you are leaving to go home. Or going to the fabric store and working on a project and the only person you could imagine helping you with it is your mother. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm mad at cancer. It's hurt some of the best people I know. It's taken my mothers reproductive system already and now it's stealing her breasts. That makes me so mad. It lurks and makes you feel uneasy because you wonder where we'll find it next. It sucks joy out of life. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-9408252615634623592012-03-15T10:28:00.000-05:002012-03-15T10:28:16.853-05:00So Far, So Good<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This past weekend my hubby had to witness something very ugly. You know the Lenten promise I made, yeah, it has some physical ramifications. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This weekend I went into TJ Maxx, aka. My Drug of Choice. I needed to buy a foam roller for some sore muscles. I knew that they had some nice yoga and fitness supplies and a discounted price compared to sports stores. After much discussion we decided this falls under the necessity line item and not "fun shopping" My task: walk in, get roller, purchase (most important), then leave. Simple enough? Well, I walked into the store. I could have sworn there were little fairies singing around me. My nostrils flared, my pupils dilated, my heart physically beat quicker. I had the shakes. The clothes had the new-clothes smell, the flesh-colored patent shoes seemed more shiny then usual. The Bento boxes were discounted and stacked so pretty. The sunglasses looked a little rosier. The hair products promised more. I was a mess. Sadly, I'm getting excited just typing this update. After an excruciating 10 minutes of virtual shopping, I found my roller, bought it, and left. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm sick. I know. Don't judge.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-12186756063703600282012-02-28T13:25:00.000-06:002012-02-28T13:25:15.199-06:00A Little Wild Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hc0yBZAIwLE/T00p4glNnVI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/XRdLEa-hpNc/s1600/IMG_2303%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hc0yBZAIwLE/T00p4glNnVI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/XRdLEa-hpNc/s320/IMG_2303%5B1%5D.jpg" uda="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5X37tiCOPkw/T00p-9KtLzI/AAAAAAAAAwY/izweNa5zqVc/s1600/IMG_2323%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5X37tiCOPkw/T00p-9KtLzI/AAAAAAAAAwY/izweNa5zqVc/s320/IMG_2323%5B1%5D.jpg" uda="true" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-71253029553987886432012-02-28T13:08:00.000-06:002012-02-28T13:08:55.851-06:00Look out...the economy might tank!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-esVppIPcRHo/T00l3GPVtYI/AAAAAAAAAwI/WkfoCjon9SM/s1600/ash+wednesday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-esVppIPcRHo/T00l3GPVtYI/AAAAAAAAAwI/WkfoCjon9SM/s1600/ash+wednesday.jpg" uda="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">One of my favorite services of the year is Ash Wednesday. Granted, it took my mom some getting used to that our Baptist church has this service. We do it all and I love it. I have actually made lenten promises for years. Some years I have given up soda with my sister. In my wilder days I would give up bad words. (Yeah, I said it). Last year I gave up meat. Little did I know that I would rarely pick it back up again. So what, pray tell, am I giving up this year....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Shopping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yep. I think giving up the meat, soda and profanities were cake compared to this little weakness. I should probably clarity. My family will still eat and we will have toilet paper. It's the new shoes, cool kitchen gadgets, cute handbags, and Woot.com deals that are going away. That's the kicker, no more Woot. I'm pretty sure I single-handedly helped the online retailers stay afloat during the holiday season. I would shop on my phone while still waking up in the morning. It's a sickness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My first obstacle so far has been the boys Easter outfits. I totally should have gotten that done before making this committment. My solution - looks like the boys will be wearing matching ties and hats that their mother will be sewing. This is a good time to clear out some of my fabric stash. <br />
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Keep posted. I'll probably need to vent from time to time over the next couple weeks!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-91512306266055231362012-01-28T11:43:00.000-06:002012-01-28T11:43:22.877-06:00Update on the Tickets<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well, the great news is that the week before Sebas' birthday, I found the tickets!! The show was great. Sebas liked the concert, Jackson was mesmerized by the concert. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Where were the tickets? In my closet, in a bag, in a book. Naturally!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-40734358157433140952012-01-02T18:39:00.001-06:002012-01-02T18:39:43.554-06:00Help! I lose things!<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I lose things. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This isn't a new problem. Rather, it's been a trend for as long as I can remember. I don't know that there was a single year through school when I didn't lose my class schedule before my first day of class. We would have the little red. black and white slip mailed during the summer time and we'd eagerly call friends and see what classes we had with friends. Based off of those conversations, more often then not I'd piece together through process of elimination what my days would look like. How I ever made it through school that way, I don't know.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Once upon a time Bryan got me a ring that I loved so much I named it...Ka-Chow. I lovingly wore Ka-Chow all of 2 days before I lost it. For weeks I relived the lost-schedule nightmare and looked all over the place for it. Days passed. Weeks passed. MONTHS passed and I finally admitted to Bryan that Ka-Chow was gone. This wouldn't have been so bad had I not lost our digital camera just weeks before. Yep. Not my best moment. Later Bryan bought a replacement ring that I named Ka-Chugga and shortly after, Ka-Chow resurfaced.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When my mother was released from the hospital last year the physician tried to hand me the dismissal papers. Luckily, Mom saw through her post-op, drug-induced fog to mutter the words. "No, not Dulce. She loses things." Yep. I lose things.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">All that to say, I have managed to lose not one but BOTH of the boys birthday presents. I am scouring the house, looking through boxes and stacks of paper. Looking at our "go-to" spots for important things. No luck. In an attempt to reduce clutter a few years back, I started buying tickets to shows for birthdays. Jackson has gone to Blue Man Group, Cirque Illumination, Cirque Montage and others as a birthday present. Somewhere hidden in the house are 4 tickets to </span><a href="http://www.concertseries.org/performances/cirque-dreams-pop-goes-the-rock"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Cirque Dreams: Pop Goes the Rock.</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> This should be the first year that we start this with Sebastian and I have secured 4 tickets to see </span><a href="http://www.concertseries.org/performances/stomp"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">STOMP. </span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm hoping to foster a love of the theater like I have. So far it's been working pretty well. I'm thinking we may have to put a new twist on things, though, and say they have to find their curiously hidden present first. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-62498638773711823592011-08-18T18:59:00.000-05:002011-08-18T18:59:50.879-05:00Boohoo WoohooJackson's has started the 3rd grade, if you can believe it! Clothes were set out, lunch was packed, forms were signed and we were shockingly early for Stevens'. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Eagr7IFyk4/Tk2mFO77r4I/AAAAAAAAAu8/3wTK5kw7sb4/s1600/223782_10150260958717901_602927900_7570484_5106154_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Eagr7IFyk4/Tk2mFO77r4I/AAAAAAAAAu8/3wTK5kw7sb4/s320/223782_10150260958717901_602927900_7570484_5106154_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hvAk9e6E-DY/Tk2mHGSXl5I/AAAAAAAAAvA/N4eHYn8g4sI/s1600/262977_10150260958542901_602927900_7570482_4558723_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hvAk9e6E-DY/Tk2mHGSXl5I/AAAAAAAAAvA/N4eHYn8g4sI/s320/262977_10150260958542901_602927900_7570482_4558723_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hY48UD_ZWpA/Tk2mIvZoizI/AAAAAAAAAvE/dG9sM7UWXgk/s1600/296412_10150260958797901_602927900_7570485_4649174_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hY48UD_ZWpA/Tk2mIvZoizI/AAAAAAAAAvE/dG9sM7UWXgk/s320/296412_10150260958797901_602927900_7570485_4649174_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x47cmZrqa3s/Tk2mKcdKF3I/AAAAAAAAAvI/9J3ulH-Gu3o/s1600/300337_10150260958612901_602927900_7570483_5216805_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x47cmZrqa3s/Tk2mKcdKF3I/AAAAAAAAAvI/9J3ulH-Gu3o/s320/300337_10150260958612901_602927900_7570483_5216805_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was able to help the PTO by setting up for our Boohoo Woohoo breakfast for Kindergarten students. It's a new event that our new principal brought. Behold, the flyer of this fun event:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vhf0-IDImIk/Tk2nUgrlBnI/AAAAAAAAAvM/qlwRXIHPU8M/s1600/boohoo+woohoo+flyer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" qaa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vhf0-IDImIk/Tk2nUgrlBnI/AAAAAAAAAvM/qlwRXIHPU8M/s640/boohoo+woohoo+flyer.jpg" width="492" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-63185137538983650332011-06-27T12:15:00.000-05:002011-06-27T12:15:14.002-05:00Palestine: Peace not Apartheid<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11321553-palestine" style="float: left; padding-right: 20px;"><img alt="Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid" border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51200oHCMiL._SX106_.jpg" /></a><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11321553-palestine">Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid</a> by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6113.Jimmy_Carter">Jimmy Carter</a><br />
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My rating: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/180047066">4 of 5 stars</a><br />
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I actually listened to this while traveling over the weekend. Very insightful. Plus, nothing beats the reading being done by the actual author. Excellent.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/list/4199360-dulce">View all my reviews</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-5744419695887787122011-04-28T19:30:00.000-05:002011-04-28T19:30:33.704-05:00Weighing InSo, until today I was pretty much uneffected by the "Birther" movement and whether our president was a citizen or not. I viewed it as just another thing for people to complain about instead of working to better the country instead of trying to be divisive. Then, I came across an opinion letter in the local paper. <a href="http://www.newstribune.com/news/2011/apr/28/obama-still-fails-citizenship-test/#comments">See for yourself.</a><br />
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Here's the thing, by this persons logic, my own citizenship would be called into question. Ummm, I hate to burst his bubble but I'm very proud of the fact that my father immigrated here from El Salvador. I claim my heritage with great pride. I also know that people like my father are what makes this country great in my opinion. On the other side of the spectrum, my mother's family can be traced to native americans. That's right, before the 'ol Mayflower docked. I am equally proud of that heritage. <br />
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Good gracious, people. Suck it up, put on your big boy pants and support the man. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-23668616479240878352011-04-02T19:51:00.000-05:002011-04-02T19:51:43.130-05:00Support the March of Dimes!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Once upon a time I met this girl named Shonda. I was 17ish and she was 18ish. So yeah, that had to have been just a couple years ago. :) We got to spend the summer together at <a href="http://www.windermereusa.org/">Windermere</a> where we worked and played. We had no idea then the directions our lives would take us. We weren't thinking about marriage or babies, we were thinking about our tans and friends. We were sharing a community bathroom, not thinking about mortgage payments. We couldn't have known then what kind of wives or mothers we would turn into. Well, you know about my 2 blessings. Shonda is the mother of 4 blessings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here are a couple of video montages that give you an introduction to her March of Dimes Team: </span><a href="http://www.marchforbabies.org/personal_page.asp?pp=760771&ct=4&w=4513546&u=London"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2 Here, 2 In Heaven.</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It also gives you an idea as to why I am so blessed to have known her and call her my friend. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Please, if you can, please support the March of Dimes and this team. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><embed flashvars="&p=d2914747d4b4a5105f780e&skin_id=1901&host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" height="382" name="FLVPlayer" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" salign="LT" scale="noscale" src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=d2914747d4b4a5105f780e" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="408" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />
<div style="font: 12px/20px verdana, arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 15px; text-align: center; width: 408px;"><a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&utm_source=emplay&utm_medium=txt0" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Make photo slide shows at <span style="text-decoration: underline;">www.OneTrueMedia.com</span></a></div></div><br />
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<div><embed flashvars="&p=d2d95cc3f938039962ef69&skin_id=1901&host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" height="382" name="FLVPlayer" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" salign="LT" scale="noscale" src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=d2d95cc3f938039962ef69" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="408" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />
<div style="font: 12px/20px verdana, arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 15px; text-align: center; width: 408px;"><a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&utm_source=emplay&utm_medium=txt1" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Make an on-line slide show at <span style="text-decoration: underline;">www.OneTrueMedia.com</span></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-12460913822873779432011-03-28T09:56:00.000-05:002011-03-28T09:56:34.470-05:00So Glad They Love Each Other<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I've been watching and I think it's evident, these boys have grown to love each other.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Du-R520YnnM/TZCf095q8YI/AAAAAAAAAr0/zvDjqSln7KI/s1600/1.31.07+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Du-R520YnnM/TZCf095q8YI/AAAAAAAAAr0/zvDjqSln7KI/s320/1.31.07+003.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In the Beginning</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PMSukqyj-n8/TZCfvx0OQ5I/AAAAAAAAArw/XY5AH4Y2jt0/s1600/3.23.07+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PMSukqyj-n8/TZCfvx0OQ5I/AAAAAAAAArw/XY5AH4Y2jt0/s320/3.23.07+007.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Sebastian's first smile</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LM2f93TpRaw/TZCf7Xd53DI/AAAAAAAAAr4/5CiUAN0Vk9w/s1600/DSC02324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LM2f93TpRaw/TZCf7Xd53DI/AAAAAAAAAr4/5CiUAN0Vk9w/s320/DSC02324.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">They are content to dress alike.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vhA_bBYkgG8/TZCgFKCqbEI/AAAAAAAAAr8/TU0aYjw-S_c/s1600/IMG_0357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" r6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vhA_bBYkgG8/TZCgFKCqbEI/AAAAAAAAAr8/TU0aYjw-S_c/s320/IMG_0357.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And they can be goofy together</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PYLwURXBw5g/TZCgMGJ4grI/AAAAAAAAAsA/ZwxBe-yp9pE/s1600/boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PYLwURXBw5g/TZCgMGJ4grI/AAAAAAAAAsA/ZwxBe-yp9pE/s320/boys.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And sometimes they bear hug in beautiful moments like this.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="left"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-39120454187255451392011-01-18T12:16:00.000-06:002011-01-18T12:16:59.538-06:00It's been 4 years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V6i1xPqyehA/TTXXKcMEbMI/AAAAAAAAArk/jHDbhVco00k/s1600/photo2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V6i1xPqyehA/TTXXKcMEbMI/AAAAAAAAArk/jHDbhVco00k/s320/photo2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Four years ago our doctor whispered "Happy Birthday" to our child then handed him to Bryan. Actually, there was probably a nurse or two in there somewhere but I was laying back and feeling real good. <br />
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I knew Sebastian before he ever made eye contact with me. I knew when he did and didn't want to be messed with. I knew that he would only kick when he wanted to and when he did, look out. I knew that he would want to snuggle with me and tune out the outside world from time to time. And I knew that I would love him more than the sun and the moon. I still do.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">What I didn't know is the shades of color he would bring into my world. I didn't know that he would be so hilariously funny. I didn't know that he would be his brother's best friend and also his bully. I didn't know that he would be able to eat 8 clementines in a given day and follow them with some hellacious gas. I didn't know that when he turned 4, he would still snuggle with me and let me rock him for a little while longer. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I love my son, Sebastian. More and more every day he stretches my heart greater than he ever did my stomach (and I have the marks to prove it). I can't wait to see what our next year holds. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-74511559724428855892010-12-26T21:28:00.000-06:002010-12-26T21:28:51.808-06:00Would You Be My Friend?<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So, a little something people may not realize about me is that I really suck at making friends. I take that back, I can make friends and acquaintances but I've rarely had a Central Perk-Friends relationship. You see, I often feel like I'm back in elementary school with a bad perm and glasses who was told that she was invited to a birthday party because the other girl's mother made her. I have always wanted a Ya-Ya Sisterhood kind of bond with people but instead I come up short. Here's the thing, I always feel like I'm not worthy of the friendship people give me. I am terrible at correspondence. I don't typically pick up the phone and dish about current events. I'm more likely to be fashionably late than dutifully on time. So, I'm don't fit the "best friend" criteria others may have. Here's the thing, though. I have a list of people that I consider my best friends. Not because I deserve them, I don't. It's because that in their awesomeness, they have accepted me. Not as their best friend, they could do far better. Honestly, the insecure frizzy haired bespeckled girl inside of me is delighted they talk to me at all. So, here is a laundry list of some people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have a best friend named Bryan. He loves me without my makeup and when I'm in sweats. He tells me he loves me every day. He thinks I'm beautiful or, at least, convinces me that he does. He gets my quirkiness and moodiness. He holds me when I fall apart and gives me space to move when I get antsy. It's a delicate balance to live with me and he does it very well. I love that guy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have this best friend named Jessica. When they wrote the fruits of the spirit, it was actually a description of Jess. You know how there are some people who seem to be near perfect. Well, I met this perfect friend when we were 15. We had to bunk together at Windermere for a whole summer. Amazingly, she looked through my faults and obnoxious Goofy shirts and befriended me. We have stood up in each others weddings, held each others newborns and watched our children play together. In our 19+ year friendship her kindness has never wavered. I have never once had a bad thought about her. In her grace and kindness, she calls me her friends still.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have this best friend named Heather. She has a life about her that is incredible. She proudly wears the necklaces to church that her children make her and isn't scared to dance with them in the middle of a Baptist wedding reception. She sends cards just because. I don't know what on earth I have done to deserve her as a friend. I often wonder how she does it. How does she radiate God's love to others just by breathing? Does she make others feel the same way she makes me feel? Loved, accepted, special, hopeful? I would have loved to know her in high school. I would have loved to have known her as a person on her wedding day. I cherish that friendship like a precious treasure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have these best friends known as the "Clique." A group of misfits landed in Roach Missouri from all corners of Missouri, a Kansan and an Iowan. Magic was made. I can still to this day call that the happiest time of my life. Sitting around talking about nothing and everything. Crammed in the back of a Mustang to buy sunglasses or play ski-ball. Doing a lip sync routine to a Gilda Radner SNL sketch. How did I get the cool kids to like me? I would sit there and wonder, do they really like me? Am I contributing anything to their enjoyment? Am I the one they took pity on and let me hang out? I still don't know 100% percent but we still contact each other and I know that I would drop anything to be by their sides if they needed me. I am like a fish without water being in a city without these friends sometimes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have other best friends: </span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Kim who shows me that faith lived out is a beautiful thing. Time with family is precious and fleeting and should be a priority. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Elaine who isn't afraid to show her feelings and can spot when I'm having a tough day in 30 seconds or less. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Kari, who actually accepted my sister's little sister as her friend. She has more talent in her little finger than I do in my whole body. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Katherine who amazes me weekly. Despite being harassed by me, her Bible Study leader, she excels in life. She is a phenomenal mother. She is so comfortable in her own skin it's ridiculous. She goes to class and gets honors. I am amazed that she likes me at all!</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">See, I am not worthy of any of them. In most cases this is the first I have said that I call them my best friends when they aren't listening. I dare not speak it out loud because they may take that title away. They may confess that they are forced to be my friend by their mothers. Here's the thing, I wouldn't be the person I am without them. I wouldn't be proud of my inner nerd. I wouldn't dance just because. All I know is that my love and admiration only grows. Thank you friends. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-44957721488203068192010-12-26T20:40:00.000-06:002010-12-26T20:40:28.198-06:00Christmas 2010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V6i1xPqyehA/TRf70_mXmGI/AAAAAAAAArQ/N3LV56dLPDk/s320/Santa.jpg" width="212" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-75598770968909181432010-11-12T09:02:00.000-06:002010-11-12T09:02:21.750-06:00Steve Harvey Introduces Jesus<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cvCd_ANIKys?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cvCd_ANIKys?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5579550173599463312.post-81928236201015002792010-08-05T09:07:00.000-05:002010-08-05T09:07:27.529-05:00People Let Me Tell You 'Bout My Best Friend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V6i1xPqyehA/TFrCn2EYWiI/AAAAAAAAAqo/TIYvQsc3FPM/s1600/steve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V6i1xPqyehA/TFrCn2EYWiI/AAAAAAAAAqo/TIYvQsc3FPM/s320/steve.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the boys returned one day from Grammie and Grampy's, they had a new friend with them. They have named him Steve. Well, Steve has turned out to be the most docile passive aggressive toad in the Animal Planet. Steve loves to swim, perch on the rock mountain we made for him and swim some more. What he does not seem to love is eating the grasshopper we lovingly caught for him. Now, in his defense, this hopper's a bully. When in a staring contest, the hopper wins. If in a jumping contest, yep, the hopper wins. In fact, last evening the hopper actually jumped off Steve's back to then claim his rightful title of King of the Mountain. Steve watched from a lower perch as the whole thing.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Oh the trials of trying to keep a little toad alive so your little ones can have a pet. If only we can keep him properly fed so he doesn't hop off to his greater reward.</span> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2