tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62630848195759229882012-02-16T03:42:06.385-08:00MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.comBlogger1021100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-26914665183444400812011-01-03T21:04:00.001-08:002011-01-03T21:13:29.396-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/TSKsG7iTdyI/AAAAAAAABXE/pQeK5iR4Bh4/s1600/155047_10150098860524493_536374492_7262604_6592909_n.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/TSKsG7iTdyI/AAAAAAAABXE/pQeK5iR4Bh4/s320/155047_10150098860524493_536374492_7262604_6592909_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558194125189379874" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So, I have begun a new blog with my old friend Amber. We will be writing about our struggles, suggestions, and successes with organic, natural, simple and unprocessed living. It should be an interesting blog since it is coming from 2 different voices - one that is already inclined towards all things hippy (that'd be me) and one that is more conventional (yet conscious). We have been friends since first grade! We're seen each other change a lot. Now it will be documented change.<br /><br />Please check us out!<br /><a href="http://unprocessedmoms.wordpress.com/"><br /></a><a href="http://unprocessedmoms.wordpress.com/">UNPROCESSEDMOMS</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2691466518344440081?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-75507959700998507042010-07-27T11:04:00.000-07:002010-07-27T11:19:05.968-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/TE8i2dhSIEI/AAAAAAAABWg/LXBgu9L2jog/s1600/karaoke.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/TE8i2dhSIEI/AAAAAAAABWg/LXBgu9L2jog/s320/karaoke.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498651989075173442" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/TE8i10G2TYI/AAAAAAAABWY/OBJdrnF7LtA/s1600/3+girls.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/TE8i10G2TYI/AAAAAAAABWY/OBJdrnF7LtA/s320/3+girls.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498651977958444418" /></a><br />This poem is a beautiful reminder that children are paying attention to our example. They are great imitators. It is written by Mary Rita Schilke Korzan (wow) as a thank you to her mom. I got it from the book <i>The New Good Life</i> by Tim Robbbins.<div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking,</div><div>You hung my first paining on the refrigerator,</div><div>And I wanted to paint another one.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking </div><div>You fed a stray cat,</div><div>And I thought it was food to be kind to animals.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking,</div><div>You baked a birthday cake just for me,</div><div>And I knew that little things were special things.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking,</div><div>You said a prayer,</div><div>And I believed there was a god that I could always talk too.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking, </div><div>You kissed me goodnight,</div><div>and I felt loved.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking,</div><div>I saw tears come from your eyes,</div><div>And I learned that sometimes things hurt</div><div>But that it's alright to cry.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking,</div><div>You smiled</div><div>And it made me want to look that pretty, too.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking,</div><div>You cared,</div><div>And I wanted to be everything that I could be.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking,</div><div>I looked,</div><div>And wanted to say thanks</div><div>For all those thins you did</div><div>When you thought I wasn't looking.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7550795970099850704?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-64009451704253502362010-05-23T11:09:00.000-07:002010-05-23T11:23:53.914-07:00<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lwgZcyBbI/AAAAAAAABWI/lmONNcsmvpU/s320/oh+pax.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474530523935278514" /><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lwCNUR6iI/AAAAAAAABWA/6yiOLrvaATY/s320/cake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474530005282318882" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lwlu2kbQI/AAAAAAAABWQ/nN9YRkjrQ8o/s1600/restaurant.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lwlu2kbQI/AAAAAAAABWQ/nN9YRkjrQ8o/s320/restaurant.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474530615579929858" /></a>My first born son is now seven. Seven didn't sound old when Charis turned it. But for Paxton it seems old. We've had a very fun birthday weekend. He's so easy to please. It's the best. Every gift is his favorite. He thanked us over and over again. He's the only one like that.<div><br /></div><div>We had pancakes and gifts in the morning. He wanted tamales for lunch. And Chinese food for dinner. My international boy. We ate out with friends. It was a little fancier than our noise level preferred. But it was tasty. </div><div><br /></div><div>The birthday party was the following day: boys video game sleep over party. So many games. So much junk food. So fun. Most of the boys stayed up until 4am. It was loud. I didn't sleep much. </div><div><br /></div><div>My heart feels heavy, in a good way, when I think about how much I love my boy. Who is seven.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lvygOSlPI/AAAAAAAABV4/C8u0kxFpZhE/s1600/drum.jpg"><br /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lvxIgJ2NI/AAAAAAAABVg/WvZkCp3T0c0/s1600/boys.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lvxIgJ2NI/AAAAAAAABVg/WvZkCp3T0c0/s320/boys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474529711932168402" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lvw5Vn5kI/AAAAAAAABVY/Zp0FQk-hEW8/s1600/dads.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S_lvw5Vn5kI/AAAAAAAABVY/Zp0FQk-hEW8/s320/dads.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474529707861468738" /></a><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6400945170425350236?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-46684105450811127182010-05-09T22:05:00.001-07:002010-05-09T22:43:57.543-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eaDvxEixI/AAAAAAAABVQ/0eDYgHHHRoY/s1600/blacknwhite.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eaDvxEixI/AAAAAAAABVQ/0eDYgHHHRoY/s320/blacknwhite.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469509661617326866" /></a><br /><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eURrCYjpI/AAAAAAAABUg/jGkDPJHkoxY/s320/kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469503303796166290" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eWfKD8msI/AAAAAAAABVI/mda4i1uZrus/s1600/pegleg.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eWfKD8msI/AAAAAAAABVI/mda4i1uZrus/s320/pegleg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469505734485777090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eWdb1-yYI/AAAAAAAABUo/d_oYZhIDSVA/s1600/spaghetti.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eWdb1-yYI/AAAAAAAABUo/d_oYZhIDSVA/s320/spaghetti.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469505704899299714" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eWe_G2VJI/AAAAAAAABVA/VVOsYlpjVL4/s1600/mothers+others.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/S-eWe_G2VJI/AAAAAAAABVA/VVOsYlpjVL4/s320/mothers+others.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469505731545158802" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Today was mother's day. This second picture was taken right before we went to the Quail Botanical Gardens, which was after I was served a delicious play-dough meal and given a lovely finger-knit necklace (by Paxton). Charis made me a recycled art car, and Caleb got me a cute little coin purse from Not For Sale (they sell things made by people taken out of human trafficking situations- <a href="http://notforsale895.corecommerce.com/Cute-Stuff-/Sweet-Face-Coin-Purses-p203.html">it's awesome</a>). As I type I'm listening to the record they gave me, <a href="http://www.sheandhim.com/#/splash">She &amp; Him - Vol. One</a>. Good gifts. We walked to the farmer's market and had lunch there : vegan chilli! One thing I really like about this picture is Paxton's hair. He spent a long time combing it - with a comb. He was intreguided by this skinny hair brush that could make his hair lie so flat. Needless to say, I don't usually brush his hair. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;">Every year we go to Mothers and Others, a luncheon at my mother in law's church. Charis adores the event. She loves getting a new dress from Grams every year. She loves buying the raffle tickets to win a basket, which she never wins. The thing I think she loves the most is telling her brothers about all they missed. Every year Paxton bemoans the fact that there isn't a Fathers and Others, and he asks several times a day about why there isn't one. So sad and cute. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;">This year I have felt very grateful to BE a mom. In the past I've felt grateful for mine and Caleb's moms before, but this year I'm unusually glad to be the mommy of these 3 kids. I'm not sure why this year has been more this way. But I'm happy for it - I think I get easily bogged down in the small difficulties of daily mothering life and my gratitude level is usually kinda low. Maybe because my kids are getting bigger and aren't as hard as they used to be. But I think that Jonas is one of the funniest, cutest kids I've ever known. Paxton still melts my heat daily; he's such an endearing child. And Charis, oh Charis. My first born, and only girl. It's tough sometimes, but I love her so much. She is so beautiful and smart; so full of ideas and spirit. God knew I was supposed to be these people's mom. I didn't know it, but He did. And I'm glad today.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4668410545081112718?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-87152605219601954302009-11-21T22:26:00.000-08:002009-11-21T22:40:02.792-08:00<div>we love our neighborhood. these are only some of the kids on our culdi-sac. one of the neighborhood moms hosted a pumpkin carving block party. note to self (or to neighbor) pumpkins carved the first week of october will not be good when halloween rolls around.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaBDIYW2I/AAAAAAAABT0/kUogAZCOOyc/s1600/carvings.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaBDIYW2I/AAAAAAAABT0/kUogAZCOOyc/s320/carvings.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406811064213461858" /></a><br /><div>nates butt farm. oh wait, bates nut farm. good times with good friends.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaBDJ3_oI/AAAAAAAABTs/NiEclxUy2aA/s1600/farm+family.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaBDJ3_oI/AAAAAAAABTs/NiEclxUy2aA/s320/farm+family.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406811064219729538" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaAymgWGI/AAAAAAAABTk/2TUVQiRSqaQ/s1600/pumpkin+fun.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaAymgWGI/AAAAAAAABTk/2TUVQiRSqaQ/s320/pumpkin+fun.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406811059776411746" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaAjLGLnI/AAAAAAAABTc/WXeIDZDf564/s1600/tractor.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaAjLGLnI/AAAAAAAABTc/WXeIDZDf564/s320/tractor.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406811055634919026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaASA2vgI/AAAAAAAABTU/bObPV91S5Z0/s1600/pumkin+heads.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjaASA2vgI/AAAAAAAABTU/bObPV91S5Z0/s320/pumkin+heads.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406811051028561410" /></a>my baby turned four this month. we had donuts and opened gifts in the morning. then went to legoland with grandma and papa. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbIAbpcqI/AAAAAAAABUE/homvFBGjWwA/s1600/opening+gifts.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbIAbpcqI/AAAAAAAABUE/homvFBGjWwA/s320/opening+gifts.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406812283259679394" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbIVPiHNI/AAAAAAAABUM/EWxzz7VkGIs/s1600/legoland.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbIVPiHNI/AAAAAAAABUM/EWxzz7VkGIs/s320/legoland.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406812288846011602" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">and, per his very specific request, i made jonas a pink cake with pokka-dots. that's right.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbH9x2MMI/AAAAAAAABT8/LgdG6IY1mtQ/s1600/cake.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbH9x2MMI/AAAAAAAABT8/LgdG6IY1mtQ/s320/cake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406812282547482818" /></a></div><div>and of course, halloween. i didn't get a good picture of the kids completely decked out. jonas was too cute as frakenstein. charis was an egyptian princess, and pax was a monkey.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbIfmyclI/AAAAAAAABUU/MnbRQqF9SYs/s1600/halloween.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SwjbIfmyclI/AAAAAAAABUU/MnbRQqF9SYs/s320/halloween.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406812291627905618" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8715260521960195430?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-1028210909094806632009-10-26T21:23:00.000-07:002009-10-26T21:38:29.042-07:00<div>Our friends from Washington flew down and stayed at our house for a week. There are 5 of them. There are 5 of us. Thats 10 total in our house. I loved it. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2J2-aZWI/AAAAAAAABTM/SScJGNb-aSY/s1600-h/on+the+couch.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2J2-aZWI/AAAAAAAABTM/SScJGNb-aSY/s320/on+the+couch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131115198309730" /></a>My kids loved waking up every morning with friends to play with. Charis tried desperately to act as little mommy to Caylin. But that little girl was having none of it. She knew what she wanted and it was not to be bossed around by Charis. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2JjClmKI/AAAAAAAABTE/d3V80CWVZLM/s1600-h/kaylin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2JjClmKI/AAAAAAAABTE/d3V80CWVZLM/s320/kaylin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131109847111842" /></a>Jared looks strangely angelic in this picture. Caleb thought the lighting was cool. He and Caleb have so much in common and such a good time together. I like seeing that.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2JSFYKgI/AAAAAAAABS8/wrLuqnFfRjg/s1600-h/jared.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2JSFYKgI/AAAAAAAABS8/wrLuqnFfRjg/s320/jared.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131105295411714" /></a>April and I got to go out on the town one night. I like talking to her. We have a lot in common. She's a patient and kind mom.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2IVomeJI/AAAAAAAABS0/ecF9u6OJ3N0/s1600-h/april.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2IVomeJI/AAAAAAAABS0/ecF9u6OJ3N0/s320/april.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131089068587154" /></a>Liam is amazing. He's hilarious and cute. He's one of those kids you can just sit back and watch for entertainment purposes. I don't have a good solo picture of Trevon. He's a sweet kid who my kids loved playing with. All three of their children are beautiful. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2IR4FNBI/AAAAAAAABSs/orKTRy_Kl1Q/s1600-h/liam.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SuZ2IR4FNBI/AAAAAAAABSs/orKTRy_Kl1Q/s320/liam.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131088059773970" /></a><br /></div><div>We already have our next visit up to their house tentatively planned. I do like communal living. Anyone want to move in?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-102821090909480663?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-85532569119948950002009-09-26T17:07:00.000-07:002009-09-26T17:32:44.948-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6upS20EAI/AAAAAAAABRs/UJlCJDxrD_U/s1600-h/butterfly.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6upS20EAI/AAAAAAAABRs/UJlCJDxrD_U/s320/butterfly.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385934228841304066" /></a><br />is summer over? it was 101 degrees at my parents house yesterday. that's how much we love them. we leave the (also hot but not nearly so bad) beach town we live in to visit my beloved family in east county (everytime i say east county i think "what! what!").<br /><br />all my kids are home now. paxton started off the school year at the charter school but after a week he decided to do homeschool. although i like so many people there, and was sad it meant i wouldn't get to see them as often, i was very happy about his decision. it's been really fun to have everyone home for school again.<br /><br />speaking of homeschool...we just had our first ever <a href="http://goodvibrationsconference.com/">san diego unschooling conference</a> the other weekend. it was an awesome event full of playing, listening to inspiring speakers, making new friends, swimming and dancing. my kids had so much fun and caleb and i were encouraged and challenged. unfortunately i have zero pictures from the weekend. lots were taken by others but i don't have them on my computer. charis and i <i>did</i> dye our hair pink for the wild times.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6upxSs4AI/AAAAAAAABR0/34mOgcmJaGs/s1600-h/pinky.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6upxSs4AI/AAAAAAAABR0/34mOgcmJaGs/s320/pinky.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385934237011337218" /></a><br /><br />i got to spend an evening with <a href="http://www.enjoyingtheprocess.com/">emily james</a> recently. i really liked that.<br /><br />we are loving our new unschooling co-op. every other firday we meet at a beatiful park and have multiple activity options for the kids. everything is optional but everything is available. it's the way learning should be in my opinion. here a few pictures from it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6uq5Tdo_I/AAAAAAAABSE/MVkT7pBDOco/s1600-h/charis+volcano.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6uq5Tdo_I/AAAAAAAABSE/MVkT7pBDOco/s320/charis+volcano.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385934256341885938" /></a><br /><div>the kids made a volcano out of dough, and then put explosive ingredients in it. pretty cool.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6uqZdhNNI/AAAAAAAABR8/_vsPnAub0Y0/s1600-h/volcano.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6uqZdhNNI/AAAAAAAABR8/_vsPnAub0Y0/s320/volcano.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385934247794128082" /></a><br /></div><div>another activity was a rat dissection. look at paxton's face. this mom had been saving this rat in her freezer. i don't think i could do that.</div><div><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6wl7d9ydI/AAAAAAAABSk/AZGB7Mgi-mg/s1600-h/rat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6wl7d9ydI/AAAAAAAABSk/AZGB7Mgi-mg/s320/rat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385936370046716370" /></a></span><br />charis decided she wants to take clarinet lessons. good think my <a href="http://web.mac.com/aprilleslie/iWeb/AprilLeslie.com/Bio.html">sister</a> happens to be a professional clarinetist. so when she's driving through town she going to give her a lesson.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6urbqBCMI/AAAAAAAABSM/PgJbNB58bZ8/s1600-h/chh+clarinet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6urbqBCMI/AAAAAAAABSM/PgJbNB58bZ8/s320/chh+clarinet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385934265563285698" /></a><br /></div><div>pax wanted a turn too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6wlvDN-bI/AAAAAAAABSc/FHaT7_MtsME/s1600-h/pax+clarinet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6wlvDN-bI/AAAAAAAABSc/FHaT7_MtsME/s320/pax+clarinet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385936366713305522" /></a><br /></div><div>and of course jonas...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6wleww03I/AAAAAAAABSU/TdIohW0eka8/s1600-h/jo+clarinet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sr6wleww03I/AAAAAAAABSU/TdIohW0eka8/s320/jo+clarinet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385936362340930418" /></a><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8553256911994895000?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-43321374475379610792009-08-30T15:42:00.000-07:002009-08-30T16:04:38.432-07:00<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">Everyone seems to like this. I've been asked for the recipe several times, so I figured I post it here.</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">For The Salad:</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">Either buy the Trader Joe's broccoli slaw or...</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">3 cups finely shredded green or Napa cabbage</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">1 cup peeled and shredded zucchini</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">1 cup shredded carrot</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">1 bunch fresh chives, chopped</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">Herbs (can be fresh or dried):</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">basil</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">mint</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">cilantro</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">For The Dressing:</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">1/4 cup soy sauce (I use tamari)</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">2 tablespoons agave nectar or honey</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">1/4 cup olive oil</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">2 cloves garlic peeled</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">One 1-inch piece ginger, peeled</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">1 1/2 tablespoons curry powder</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">1 tablespoon peanut or almond butter (optional)</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">In a large mixing bowl, combine all of the salad ingredients and toss to mix.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">In a blender, combine all the dressing ingredients and blend until smooth. Pour dressing over the salad, mix well. Top with peanuts or almonds.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px">Adapted from <i>Rawvolution</i></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SpsFWswX5AI/AAAAAAAABRk/RonLf__l7lM/s1600-h/supers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SpsFWswX5AI/AAAAAAAABRk/RonLf__l7lM/s320/supers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375896467726132226" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4332137447537961079?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-78159779556539783672009-08-29T09:21:00.000-07:002009-08-29T09:22:36.795-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; "><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">Do you want to be a more light-hearted parent; less nagging, more laughing?</p><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">Here are some tips that may help:</p><ol><li><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">At least once a day, make each child helpless with laughter.</p></li><li><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">Sing in the morning. It’s hard both to sing and to maintain a grouchy mood, and it sets a happy tone for everyone.</p></li><li><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">Get enough sleep. It’s so tempting to stay up late, to enjoy the peace and quiet. But 6:30 AM comes fast.</p></li><li><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">Avoid feeling cranky by getting organized the night before and making sure you’re not rushed.</p></li><li><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">Most messages to kids are negative: “stop,” “don’t,” “no.” Try to cast your answers as “yes.” “Yes, we’ll go as soon as you’ve finished eating,” not “We’re not leaving until you’ve finished eating.”</p></li><li><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">Say “no” only when it really matters. Wear a bright red shirt with bright orange shorts? Sure. Put water in the toy tea set? Okay. Sleep with your head at the foot of the bed? Fine.</p></li></ol><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; ">I got this from www.mercola.com</p><p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 16px !important; line-height: 20px; "><br /></p></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7815977955653978367?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-26890037768867277142009-08-14T21:27:00.000-07:002009-08-14T21:57:09.635-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SoY74vCSNxI/AAAAAAAABRI/rxwki5wfqnk/s1600-h/jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SoY74vCSNxI/AAAAAAAABRI/rxwki5wfqnk/s320/jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370045451570657042" /></a><br />This has been a crazy week in the Hagen house. Saturday night Jonas had to be rushed to the E.R. and was later admitted to the hospital. He'd had a bit of a cold. I'd kept him home from a beach party that day, but felt he was up for our family shin dig that night. He was pretty lethargic at the party and was definitely struggling to breath. But he'd had something similar about a month prior, and had pulled through just fine (or so we thought). So, we just held him a lot and gave him some medicine my sister in law suggested. <div>Once we got home (10:30 pm) we realized the situation was getting worse. He was working so hard to breath and was making these sad gasping noises. At that point we decided that Caleb should take him to the E.R. I wasn't worried. I assumed they'd give him a breathing treatment and send him home. </div><div>A few hours later I talked to Caleb. Apparently the breathing treatment had helped but Jonas was not improving like they wanted him to, so he was being admitted to the hospital. </div><div>So, after 12 hours on the breathing treatment he finally started to show signs of improvement. Once they added the steroids he seemed to really perk up. I knew he was feeling a bit better when he punched me and then laughed. And things had really improved when he was calling me a poopy-stinker again. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SoY75DJ3SfI/AAAAAAAABRQ/Bfu5e-EQWKw/s1600-h/mo+jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SoY75DJ3SfI/AAAAAAAABRQ/Bfu5e-EQWKw/s320/mo+jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370045456971155954" /></a></span></div><div>I feel like God was really gracious to us. My amazing mom was able to come up and watch the other 2 kids. Caleb was able to take a day off work. And I got to have a private room with my baby, despite the fact that the room had 3 other beds in it. </div><div>While the emergency part of this was all happening I was very calm. I truly didn't feel worried or scared. I asked a lot of questions of the nurses. I talked them out of treating Jonas for swine flu. And I learned a lot about asthma.</div><div>The past couple of days have been the hardest. Learning that he might have life long asthma issues. Being told that he needs to be on steroids all winter. Seeing the medications mess him up (but keep him breathing). And I've just been tired. </div><div>But its in such perspective. Because tonight, at least, all my family is alive. And they're all breathing. And I have the ability to hold them and play with them. And I feel more thankful to God for that than I ever have.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SoY_fKakSTI/AAAAAAAABRY/MKOzdXqMI10/s1600-h/us.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SoY_fKakSTI/AAAAAAAABRY/MKOzdXqMI10/s320/us.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370049410290174258" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2689003776886727714?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-6140285646877774532009-07-27T20:50:00.000-07:002009-07-27T21:19:45.805-07:00Sorry about the lack of comments on the last 2 posts. There seems to be so much to say and I haven't felt like saying any of it.<br /><div><br /><div>Our summer has been really fun. At first it was flying by and now everyday seems like two. But I'm enjoying it immensely. We've been to the beach a lot. Soaked up a lot of sun (this is Paxton's and Charis' new favorite phrase). Played with lots of friends. And have loved the break from school. I'm learning a lot this season about just being content. To be happy with what is, because it is. To not believe my untrue thoughts.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few pictures that go with the last post got left out. These will get comments. </div><div><br /></div><div>We had a 3rd of July party on the 4th. Ask Caleb why. But it was a fun BBQ with good food and, of course, many hours of badminton. Here are the kid's 4th outfits from Grams. I love the dance moves going on here.</div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm53LPX0fiI/AAAAAAAABQY/OKlbU2wlbjA/s1600-h/4th.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm53LPX0fiI/AAAAAAAABQY/OKlbU2wlbjA/s320/4th.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363355241233546786" /></a><br /><div>Rob and Sarah came to visit us for the weekend. We trade off visiting each other every 6 months. Its a fun relationship because Charis adores Sarah and her jewelry and dress wearing ways. And Paxton talks about Rob often. They are pretty good role models for my kids to have. Paxton felt like he looked like Rob with these glasses on.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm53tvj3hMI/AAAAAAAABQg/Qekkf1AnWEw/s1600-h/robpax.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm53tvj3hMI/AAAAAAAABQg/Qekkf1AnWEw/s320/robpax.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363355833989563586" /></a>We went tent camping at Laguna Mountains over the weekend with 3 other families from our church. I love camping. I love being outside all day long. I love seeing my kids play nothing electronic for 3 days in a row. I love not cleaning my house. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm545Xc57UI/AAAAAAAABRA/X64RiNsw3WE/s1600-h/paxstanding.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm545Xc57UI/AAAAAAAABRA/X64RiNsw3WE/s320/paxstanding.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363357133187968322" /></a><br /></div><div>One day we drove to Green Valley Falls and swam in the little waterfall pools. It was frighteningly slippery. But so fun for the kids.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm545IOgkZI/AAAAAAAABQ4/wFMl3CthcaA/s1600-h/jo+swim.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm545IOgkZI/AAAAAAAABQ4/wFMl3CthcaA/s320/jo+swim.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363357129101054354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm544_0R1iI/AAAAAAAABQw/46mD9UmySzo/s1600-h/brothers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm544_0R1iI/AAAAAAAABQw/46mD9UmySzo/s320/brothers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363357126843553314" /></a>Here is the whole group. I barely know any of these people. We were a last minute invite after another family cancelled. But I'm glad we got to go, and start relationships with them. We had a lot of fun playing games at night. Quiddler anyone? It's our new favorite game. We even did a round of Pit with our mouths stuffed with marshmallows...can you tell there were a couple of old youth pastors in the group?</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm544jLJ2lI/AAAAAAAABQo/7QKkzxQmmi8/s1600-h/the+group.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm544jLJ2lI/AAAAAAAABQo/7QKkzxQmmi8/s320/the+group.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363357119154870866" /></a><br /></div><div>We have a month until school starts. I'm looking forward to a lot more beach and friend time. </div><div><br /></div><div>As of this week Charis is planning to do homeshool next school year and Pax is going back to the charter school. I'll keep you updated as it gets closer.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-614028564687777453?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-25658434080035698442009-07-26T21:36:00.000-07:002009-07-26T21:43:59.711-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vCj-tvYI/AAAAAAAABOw/jOU-UfnUpWc/s1600-h/hummos.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vCj-tvYI/AAAAAAAABOw/jOU-UfnUpWc/s320/hummos.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994452332658050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vWAxZuuI/AAAAAAAABPg/v0BbSzp9wZ8/s1600-h/me+and+flo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vWAxZuuI/AAAAAAAABPg/v0BbSzp9wZ8/s320/me+and+flo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994786478963426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vV-YAPgI/AAAAAAAABPY/KHspo-o4ak4/s1600-h/gymnastics.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vV-YAPgI/AAAAAAAABPY/KHspo-o4ak4/s320/gymnastics.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994785835564546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vVoA7zGI/AAAAAAAABPQ/V1s4EkpkXrY/s1600-h/glasses.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vVoA7zGI/AAAAAAAABPQ/V1s4EkpkXrY/s320/glasses.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994779833224290" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vVVApkmI/AAAAAAAABPI/mjgFmjc2GLs/s1600-h/gingers+bday.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vVVApkmI/AAAAAAAABPI/mjgFmjc2GLs/s320/gingers+bday.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994774731756130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0veSH46UI/AAAAAAAABPw/zALT7dmTy84/s1600-h/me+and+sarah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0veSH46UI/AAAAAAAABPw/zALT7dmTy84/s320/me+and+sarah.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994928575637826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vVFuIdtI/AAAAAAAABPA/3uU7izsdbso/s1600-h/disneyland.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vVFuIdtI/AAAAAAAABPA/3uU7izsdbso/s320/disneyland.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994770627557074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vC1QLSEI/AAAAAAAABO4/b5UJGVs8OBU/s1600-h/block+party.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vC1QLSEI/AAAAAAAABO4/b5UJGVs8OBU/s320/block+party.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994456969300034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vCV06U9I/AAAAAAAABOo/eHjNcCtJYlM/s1600-h/window+art.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vCV06U9I/AAAAAAAABOo/eHjNcCtJYlM/s320/window+art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994448533443538" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vCFc8cyI/AAAAAAAABOg/OMiXTd1Te5w/s1600-h/ipod+kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vCFc8cyI/AAAAAAAABOg/OMiXTd1Te5w/s320/ipod+kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994444137952034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vB0TmGvI/AAAAAAAABOY/8wQ_RlnNPtY/s1600-h/charis+on+bike.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vB0TmGvI/AAAAAAAABOY/8wQ_RlnNPtY/s320/charis+on+bike.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994439535336178" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vd-Mk3bI/AAAAAAAABPo/3BD5BxtQj9o/s1600-h/me+and+kirsten.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sm0vd-Mk3bI/AAAAAAAABPo/3BD5BxtQj9o/s320/me+and+kirsten.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362994923226586546" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2565843408003569844?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-37581425724192334462009-06-26T23:11:00.000-07:002009-06-26T23:19:28.803-07:00<div>I like him so much.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW46iEmPwI/AAAAAAAABOI/ign7qokrPN8/s1600-h/smell.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW46iEmPwI/AAAAAAAABOI/ign7qokrPN8/s320/smell.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351887047917715202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW46tkfSxI/AAAAAAAABOA/I3oiQKV2dgk/s1600-h/smell+upstairs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW46tkfSxI/AAAAAAAABOA/I3oiQKV2dgk/s320/smell+upstairs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351887051004267282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW46U6vC0I/AAAAAAAABN4/W9vugToz-d8/s1600-h/pax%27s+science.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW46U6vC0I/AAAAAAAABN4/W9vugToz-d8/s320/pax%27s+science.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351887044386687810" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4cGwG2NI/AAAAAAAABNw/H69nFC_JRF0/s1600-h/pax+soccer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 199px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4cGwG2NI/AAAAAAAABNw/H69nFC_JRF0/s320/pax+soccer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351886525187938514" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4b4BapWI/AAAAAAAABNg/Y_2tvJiZBtQ/s1600-h/grams+cake.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4b4BapWI/AAAAAAAABNg/Y_2tvJiZBtQ/s320/grams+cake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351886521234007394" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4bgrlNhI/AAAAAAAABNY/9a3bSVKVEos/s1600-h/funny.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4bgrlNhI/AAAAAAAABNY/9a3bSVKVEos/s320/funny.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351886514968409618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4btG0RGI/AAAAAAAABNQ/CLEgc9-WvQM/s1600-h/donuts.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW4btG0RGI/AAAAAAAABNQ/CLEgc9-WvQM/s320/donuts.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351886518303868002" /></a></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW5lvNSgGI/AAAAAAAABOQ/tNXDawLXLvQ/s1600-h/snoopy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SkW5lvNSgGI/AAAAAAAABOQ/tNXDawLXLvQ/s320/snoopy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351887790178205794" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3758142572419233446?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-87997555539700832972009-05-16T21:10:00.000-07:002009-05-16T21:23:26.818-07:00<div>My brother, Scott, invited us to hang out with him and his family at their beach-front rental on Mother's Day.  They scored big time with this place. As you can see from the photo, the sand is a side walk away from the front patio.  </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAxRm1kI/AAAAAAAABNI/2vtQb_EuxzE/s1600-h/sand.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAxRm1kI/AAAAAAAABNI/2vtQb_EuxzE/s320/sand.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336641326847284802" /></a><br /><div>It was so fun to be there and relax and play with everyone. My parents came over for dinner and we BBQed. I played volleyball for the first time since High School (really) and was embarrassingly sore the next morning.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAkDV4KI/AAAAAAAABNA/lSgVhoTdruU/s1600-h/dad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAkDV4KI/AAAAAAAABNA/lSgVhoTdruU/s320/dad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336641323297792162" /></a>My awesome dad taught the kids to throw things from the balcony at the people below. Check out the laughter on his face when he realized he got someone!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAiMou4I/AAAAAAAABM4/6YG7QNAM3rI/s1600-h/dad1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAiMou4I/AAAAAAAABM4/6YG7QNAM3rI/s320/dad1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336641322799905666" /></a><br /></div><div>This is my husband. He says I should feel lucky that he loves me so much. I do.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAf7UyqI/AAAAAAAABMw/v2UUCQ6Az4M/s1600-h/caleb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAf7UyqI/AAAAAAAABMw/v2UUCQ6Az4M/s320/caleb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336641322190424738" /></a><br /></div><div>This documents the escape from a group sand burial. So much fun! </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAeygM3I/AAAAAAAABMo/fFRrlaM0THo/s1600-h/buried.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sg-PAeygM3I/AAAAAAAABMo/fFRrlaM0THo/s320/buried.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336641321884988274" /></a><br /></div><div>Can't wait to do it again next Mother's Day (hint hint).<br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8799755553970083297?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-20398250080325945842009-05-12T17:17:00.000-07:002009-05-12T17:24:06.871-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoSGxqXgsI/AAAAAAAABMQ/x1Q-4h5u4SU/s1600-h/seattle+jump.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoSGxqXgsI/AAAAAAAABMQ/x1Q-4h5u4SU/s320/seattle+jump.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335096616193327810" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR22Tcv9I/AAAAAAAABMI/oAjICtkWVNI/s1600-h/me%26pax.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR22Tcv9I/AAAAAAAABMI/oAjICtkWVNI/s320/me%26pax.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335096342561472466" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2tmEthI/AAAAAAAABMA/Ad5_Fx07l5M/s1600-h/lost+coast.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2tmEthI/AAAAAAAABMA/Ad5_Fx07l5M/s320/lost+coast.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335096340223669778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2sYDs3I/AAAAAAAABL4/GZL33KGqbuI/s1600-h/lily.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2sYDs3I/AAAAAAAABL4/GZL33KGqbuI/s320/lily.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335096339896447858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2fSNiyI/AAAAAAAABLw/lnQUJKf5aws/s1600-h/charispeg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2fSNiyI/AAAAAAAABLw/lnQUJKf5aws/s320/charispeg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335096336382266146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2c-UPcI/AAAAAAAABLo/-H12AfoU4Bk/s1600-h/bw+us.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoR2c-UPcI/AAAAAAAABLo/-H12AfoU4Bk/s320/bw+us.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335096335761948098" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoS3TD-0BI/AAAAAAAABMg/08bp_SF_Hjs/s1600-h/PICT0135.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SgoS3TD-0BI/AAAAAAAABMg/08bp_SF_Hjs/s320/PICT0135.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335097449792851986" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2039825008032594584?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-48294894186578640492009-04-13T21:03:00.001-07:002009-05-11T19:19:50.260-07:00<div>This is a post I never finished putting comments on. I think I uploaded the pictures over a month a go.  </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6Sc12MNI/AAAAAAAABKo/yLDqQwBAK48/s1600-h/jump1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6Sc12MNI/AAAAAAAABKo/yLDqQwBAK48/s320/jump1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324233641880334546" /></a><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The short story is we took a road trip up north. Ending in Washington state with stops in Danville and  Ashland.</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6SmEfKNI/AAAAAAAABKw/CzJ8OQshubY/s1600-h/ashland+pizza.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6SmEfKNI/AAAAAAAABKw/CzJ8OQshubY/s320/ashland+pizza.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324233644357658834" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And its always so fun to see Caleb's brother and his family. The cousins love each other so much. </span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6yiNaToI/AAAAAAAABLY/3MMJ4015pyE/s1600-h/fake+food.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6yiNaToI/AAAAAAAABLY/3MMJ4015pyE/s320/fake+food.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324234193077161602" /></a><br /></div><div>It snowed while we were in WA. My kids were in love. They considered the thin, mushy layer of white to be a treat beyond compare.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6y_4erOI/AAAAAAAABLg/CcoJb_xGQVo/s1600-h/jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6y_4erOI/AAAAAAAABLg/CcoJb_xGQVo/s320/jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324234201042431202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6ymzAGXI/AAAAAAAABLQ/RQImmd_9Yts/s1600-h/christopher+wobin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6ymzAGXI/AAAAAAAABLQ/RQImmd_9Yts/s320/christopher+wobin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324234194308569458" /></a><br /></div><div>Jared and April were awesome hosts. The kids had so much fun playing endless hours of video games and enjoying new toys. I think Caleb and Jared had more fun than the kids playing Street Fighter every night, very late. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6S1_7iYI/AAAAAAAABLI/7d-IncUiqgM/s1600-h/bw+friends.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6S1_7iYI/AAAAAAAABLI/7d-IncUiqgM/s320/bw+friends.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324233648633514370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6S6NIpqI/AAAAAAAABLA/snilgqyYRuI/s1600-h/caleb%26jared.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6S6NIpqI/AAAAAAAABLA/snilgqyYRuI/s320/caleb%26jared.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324233649762641570" /></a>These two 3 year olds were so freakin' cute. Do you like how Jonas' jacket is too small. We don't need big jackets in so cal. I found out too late that he's outgrown his.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6Sh25gdI/AAAAAAAABK4/f2MpvQf-v58/s1600-h/buddies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SeN6Sh25gdI/AAAAAAAABK4/f2MpvQf-v58/s320/buddies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324233643226923474" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I got to see my BFF from college, Kari, one day. That was really super good. </div><div><br /></div><div>The day we spent in Seattle made us want to move there (until we came home and remembered where we live). </div><div><br /></div><div>We drove down the Oregon coast on the way home. Incredible! It added a few hours to our trip but it was worth it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sorry for the lull in postings. I go through stages and moods with the blogging. Clearly I've been in a non-blogging phase for a while. But I'll try to post more often, for Kari. </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4829489418657864049?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-48663207337301218602009-03-16T09:53:00.000-07:002009-03-16T10:27:04.590-07:00<div>The best family vacation we ever went on was to the unschooling conference in Washington, "Life is Good". The unique thing was that it was fun for every member of our family. Perfect for the kids since there was an unending supply of fun shops, games and new friends. Perfect for the parents since there were thought provoking seminars, cool places to walk to, constant activity for our kids, and lots of interesting and kind people to talk to (or not talk to if you preferred).  <div><br /><div>All that said, we are so excited for this years inaugural San Diego unschooling conference! All the beauty of said conference plus the beach. This really is going to be an amazing event. My good friend Flo has put so much of her heart and time into this. And all the San Diego folks are gearing up for unschooling visitors from around the state. There is an awesome speaker line-up and the fun shops and chats should be a blast. </div><br /><div>Good Vibrations Unschooling Conference<br /></div><div><div><div>Sept 10-13, 2009<br />Doubletree Hotel near Del Mar<div><br /><div>EARLY BIRD REGISTRATION ENDS IN LESS THAN 6 WEEKS!!<div><div><div><div><div><div>All the exciting details are here: http://<a href="http://GoodVibrationsConference.com/">GoodVibrationsConference.com</a><div><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4866320733730121860?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-23724232630464051002009-03-14T16:01:00.000-07:002009-03-14T16:44:18.473-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39_wsITI/AAAAAAAABI0/0ijOuW-oHsE/s1600-h/bday+mrning.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39_wsITI/AAAAAAAABI0/0ijOuW-oHsE/s320/bday+mrning.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313183198617542962" /></a><div>My first born child turned eight this week. As it always seems to go with time, it feels longer and yet so much shorter. Eight sounds so old. Older people have eight year olds, right? But I can barely remember life without her.</div><div><br /></div><div>The day started with donuts and a few small gifts. Her big gift she got early - a chinchilla. His name is "Happy" because thats how he makes Charis feel. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39ZDEMBI/AAAAAAAABIU/LSbJQ7HM_ZA/s1600-h/happyboy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39ZDEMBI/AAAAAAAABIU/LSbJQ7HM_ZA/s320/happyboy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313183188225634322" /></a>After school we had a simple party at the park. With cookies, juice, oranges and chips. It was fun to mix our new school friends with our homeschooling friends. Everyone seemed to have a great time.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39kVJ4vI/AAAAAAAABIs/TSfhxDkoXUo/s1600-h/cookies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39kVJ4vI/AAAAAAAABIs/TSfhxDkoXUo/s320/cookies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313183191254295282" /></a></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39pmbRBI/AAAAAAAABIk/EnShkN9uItA/s1600-h/bffs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39pmbRBI/AAAAAAAABIk/EnShkN9uItA/s320/bffs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313183192668914706" /></a>Charis is going to Paxton's school now. She chose to switch after feeling pretty frustrated at the other school. It's turned out to be a great decision. She loves the new school and has made some adorable friends already. </div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw7PnlB_7I/AAAAAAAABI8/LjtvZSslqcU/s320/bri.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313186799898722226" />There was a lot of balloon blowing and launching until they all got stuck in the trees or popped.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39ttqGTI/AAAAAAAABIc/txDzdmzmX78/s1600-h/balloon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw39ttqGTI/AAAAAAAABIc/txDzdmzmX78/s320/balloon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313183193772988722" /></a>Of course no party is complete without some spontaneous yoga.</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw7P13n59I/AAAAAAAABJU/-EfVaTIsuIw/s320/yoga.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313186803734800338" /></div><div>Charis' teacher was able to stop by the party for a little while. It was so cute to see the kids attack her and want to hug her and be with her after spending the past 6 hours with her. I think she might be a pretty good teacher.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw7P3rxnUI/AAAAAAAABJE/WQ5uW9sJ6_s/s1600-h/eileen.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw7P3rxnUI/AAAAAAAABJE/WQ5uW9sJ6_s/s320/eileen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313186804221975874" /></a>Here is some of the gang. I didn't get a group picture before eveyone left. But aren't they cute?!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw7PymSH5I/AAAAAAAABJM/l6YT_s-GRKU/s1600-h/friends.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw7PymSH5I/AAAAAAAABJM/l6YT_s-GRKU/s320/friends.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313186802856763282" /></a></div>Speaking of cute...<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dkI2fzI/AAAAAAAABJ8/C1WL_XrugUU/s1600-h/jodown.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dkI2fzI/AAAAAAAABJ8/C1WL_XrugUU/s320/jodown.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313189238516645682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dpGutMI/AAAAAAAABJ0/fyHW7OjKLok/s1600-h/jojo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dpGutMI/AAAAAAAABJ0/fyHW7OjKLok/s320/jojo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313189239849923778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dX1akgI/AAAAAAAABJs/qwcPOfBefyE/s1600-h/joroll.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dX1akgI/AAAAAAAABJs/qwcPOfBefyE/s320/joroll.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313189235213898242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dT5_9qI/AAAAAAAABJk/6bEMvgvDWow/s1600-h/jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw9dT5_9qI/AAAAAAAABJk/6bEMvgvDWow/s320/jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313189234159384226" /></a></div>After the party we went to Chile's for dinner and dessert - molten lava chocolate cake. A favorite amoung our kiddos. Here's the evidence.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw97CtNKYI/AAAAAAAABKM/R6NZyjFh8ZE/s1600-h/cake+face.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw97CtNKYI/AAAAAAAABKM/R6NZyjFh8ZE/s320/cake+face.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313189744938396034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw97I2qikI/AAAAAAAABKE/C7TRPWKaBLA/s1600-h/cake.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw97I2qikI/AAAAAAAABKE/C7TRPWKaBLA/s320/cake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313189746588682818" /></a>Here is me and my girl. My hair is pink right now. More pink than I planned, but it's fun. And while I'm on the topic of fun, this girl is so fun. A never ending force of ideas, energy and movement. I love it. I love her. I'm so thankful I've gotten to spend life with her these past eight years.<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Sbw97M-t0xI/AAAAAAAABKU/55Tctqwm-d4/s320/pink.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313189747696194322" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2372423263046405100?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-86953463663635171882009-02-19T20:46:00.000-08:002009-02-19T21:10:27.350-08:00<div>Caleb and I have only gone out on a date for Valentine's Day once in the 12 years we have been going on dates. It was 2 years a go and we did it up Hagen style by eating at The Turkish Bird House in Leucadia.  Well, this year we stayed with our homebound tradition and made a "fancy" dinner at home.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ41_2lO9nI/AAAAAAAABHg/RS3hioJmzGk/s1600-h/bw+valentines.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ41_2lO9nI/AAAAAAAABHg/RS3hioJmzGk/s320/bw+valentines.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304736782188738162" /></a>Scott and Chris joined us for dinner and dessert. Charis enjoyed setting the table and giving everyone name tags. Pax helped me make dinner (not really), and Jonas spent most of dinner in Scott's lap.<div> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ42AfpLi2I/AAAAAAAABHo/rst00_EjOlM/s1600-h/valentines.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ42AfpLi2I/AAAAAAAABHo/rst00_EjOlM/s320/valentines.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304736793211145058" /></a>Lasagna was on the menu. I've actually never made any kind of lasagna before and I decided to make two different kinds that night. One from my Southern Living cookbook (thank you grandma) and one from a raw cookbook. I can't say how the cooked one tasted since I didn't partake (although I heard it was pretty good) but the raw one was awesome. I will definitely make it again. In the picture below you can see the pine nut " ricotta cheese", the pesto and sun-dried tomato filling. The noodles which you can't see in the picture were made of thinly sliced summer squash tossed in olive oil. </div><div> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ42AppWgRI/AAAAAAAABHw/K1n5B6abeY8/s1600-h/raw+las.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ42AppWgRI/AAAAAAAABHw/K1n5B6abeY8/s320/raw+las.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304736795896217874" /></a><br /></div><div>We did get a date Monday night after Valentine's Day. Mom and Dad spent the night and we went to dinner, coffee and a concert. It was pretty much my favorite concert. <a href="http://www.garyjules.com/">Gary Jule's</a> opened and <a href="http://www.donavonf.com/home/">Donavon Frankenreiter</a> was the head liner. I wish I could convey the awesomeness of this concert. I'll just let your imagination take you to a place (circa 1971) where people still use accordions, harmonicas, trumpets, and (YES) mouth organs on stage. omg. I loved it.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ42A3Xv0rI/AAAAAAAABH4/xBnTIf4i-AE/s1600-h/us2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZ42A3Xv0rI/AAAAAAAABH4/xBnTIf4i-AE/s320/us2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304736799580476082" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8695346366363517188?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-79506422631185228252009-02-12T19:11:00.000-08:002009-02-12T19:33:27.743-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZTmmA5BJzI/AAAAAAAABHY/7sMctcnZvJs/s1600-h/charis.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SZTmmA5BJzI/AAAAAAAABHY/7sMctcnZvJs/s320/charis.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302116202070484786" /></a><br />Charis finally updated <a href="http://charisasparagairus.blogspot.com/">her blog</a> yesterday. Two posts in one day actually. One about Wii music and one about her school experience. It's pretty cute reading what she has to say about it. She wanted me to let my friends know that she did some new posts. So, now you know.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7950642263118522825?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-7716131918308000192009-02-05T18:27:00.000-08:002009-02-05T19:10:48.186-08:00For those of you who don't know (which is admittedly a lot of you) Charis and Pax are both going to school now.  I'm not trying to keep it a secret. And I'm not completely ashamed (okay, not really at all), it's just been so hard to talk about. I can barely talk about it with Caleb. I'm taking it all in, and constantly questioning. But I haven't been able to do much output. So, I apologize to those of you who are finding out about this through my blog. I've really only talked about it with local friends and family. And they will testify that I haven't been able to talk with them about it much either. I feel like a kid. My mom asks me how the kids are doing in school, and I say, "fine". But, oh, there is so much more. But how to say it all?<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRI6fawI/AAAAAAAABG4/epiSaf1cJP8/s1600-h/charis+to+school.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRI6fawI/AAAAAAAABG4/epiSaf1cJP8/s320/charis+to+school.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299512199912319746" /></a><br /></div><div>Why are they going to school now? Well, because they want to. It started with the girl. She's had mild interest in school for some time. And has asked lots of questions. But she always went back to her love for her unschooled life. She thought school sounded boring and hard. But one night, after a long questioning session about "what is school like?" she asked if she could try it for a day. I said I'd look into it. So, we took a tour of the local public school (she couldn't visit for the day - that'd be too distracting they said). After that she was hooked. She REALLY wanted to try out school. So we enrolled her. </div><div><br /></div><div>After a couple weeks of her in school Pax wanted to try something too. But Charis' school was too big and scary for him. So we found this little homeschool charter school. It's only 4 days a week and they are much more laid back than public schools. He is in a class of 16 students who range from K-2nd grade.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRb2Y_7I/AAAAAAAABHA/29wbB4ueSSY/s1600-h/pax+to+school.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRb2Y_7I/AAAAAAAABHA/29wbB4ueSSY/s320/pax+to+school.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299512204995395506" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>They both like school for the most part. They are going completely by choice and are allowed to be done with it whenever they like. So far they like it enough to keep going. Charis really likes seeing friends everyday, and the volume of options. She likes that everything is big. Lots of people, lots of teachers, lots of balls and swings. She a "lotsa" girl. Pax likes playing with friends and doing science and art projects. They both seem to like having a thing that is their own. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jonas and I have enjoyed having more time together. He is super fun. But he misses his brother and sister while they are at school.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRadNr9I/AAAAAAAABHI/axtDZReC1ss/s1600-h/jo+to+school.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRadNr9I/AAAAAAAABHI/axtDZReC1ss/s320/jo+to+school.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299512204621361106" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>Me? Some days I like it. I feel much more purposeful in life. And my house is cleaner. And the break is nice. But I hate homework. (Thankfully Pax's school doesn't really do the homework thing.) And I hate not knowing all her friends and their parents. And I don't like the 'tude she brings home. And I miss our sweet little homeschool life. I liked being out of the "system". It is so flawed and insufficient in many ways. I worry about the influence that it's having on them. </div><div><br /><br /></div><div>I don't know. We are willing to pull them out if it seems it's having a really negative impact on our family. But we're willing to keep at if they want to. I'm working to become an advocate for my kids at their schools. I'm getting as involved as I can in everything. I want them to see my face and influence even when they're not at home.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRh_HUeI/AAAAAAAABHQ/inUU9JqCFxs/s1600-h/charis.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SYumRh_HUeI/AAAAAAAABHQ/inUU9JqCFxs/s320/charis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299512206642598370" /></a><br /></div><div>So that is our life right now.  It is still so good. And I'm thankful for this time to evaluate and change and grow. My prayer life was improved greatly through all this. I'm so much more aware of my kid's need of God's grace. And of my own. And I feel He is giving it.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-771613191830800019?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-41361709317408730342009-01-20T18:23:00.000-08:002009-01-20T19:00:50.710-08:00Flo tagged me to continue this fun game...list six things that make me happy.<br /><br />I'd definitely have to start with my funny kids. Although they are the people who can make me most sad, they are also the one's who make me happiest. Just look at those faces!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMn0UsMYI/AAAAAAAABFs/WMkKpMGF8e4/s1600-h/pax+happy+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMn0UsMYI/AAAAAAAABFs/WMkKpMGF8e4/s320/pax+happy+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293573027708809602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMn2e9adI/AAAAAAAABF0/txm-rGvwCuY/s1600-h/jonas+happy+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMn2e9adI/AAAAAAAABF0/txm-rGvwCuY/s320/jonas+happy+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293573028288752082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMoFapscI/AAAAAAAABF8/caQJYoQjifg/s1600-h/charis+happiness+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMoFapscI/AAAAAAAABF8/caQJYoQjifg/s320/charis+happiness+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293573032297214402" /></a><br /><br />Being married to Caleb makes me happy. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMoF3OKVI/AAAAAAAABGE/CvrFBwR0JT0/s1600-h/us+happiness+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaMoF3OKVI/AAAAAAAABGE/CvrFBwR0JT0/s320/us+happiness+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293573032417044818" /></a><br /><br />Going on walks around our neighborhood makes me happy.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaPb1kaX4I/AAAAAAAABGs/EP4UElA8pIQ/s1600-h/walks.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaPb1kaX4I/AAAAAAAABGs/EP4UElA8pIQ/s320/walks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293576120419639170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaN2m-kbbI/AAAAAAAABGU/mT6gIGwofwE/s1600-h/orheus+happy+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaN2m-kbbI/AAAAAAAABGU/mT6gIGwofwE/s320/orheus+happy+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293574381336030642" /></a><br /><br />Good (homemade healthy) food and drink make me happy.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaN22VFkNI/AAAAAAAABGk/B68t1VjIMz0/s1600-h/late+happiness+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaN22VFkNI/AAAAAAAABGk/B68t1VjIMz0/s320/late+happiness+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293574385457008850" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaN24cB-5I/AAAAAAAABGc/SrecbDBm9Og/s1600-h/raw+happy+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SXaN24cB-5I/AAAAAAAABGc/SrecbDBm9Og/s320/raw+happy+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293574386023005074" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4136170931740873034?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-91607737161190208872009-01-08T10:58:00.000-08:002009-01-08T12:46:53.086-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO6SwH1eI/AAAAAAAABDU/bNRTyekdbMw/s1600-h/IMG_5576.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO6SwH1eI/AAAAAAAABDU/bNRTyekdbMw/s320/IMG_5576.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289001575766283746" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO6BOSfhI/AAAAAAAABDM/ciP91nF2kWA/s1600-h/IMG_5567.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO6BOSfhI/AAAAAAAABDM/ciP91nF2kWA/s320/IMG_5567.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289001571060973074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO57jfXHI/AAAAAAAABDE/tW1jUkWc2NM/s1600-h/IMG_5552.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO57jfXHI/AAAAAAAABDE/tW1jUkWc2NM/s320/IMG_5552.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289001569539284082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO5NPg5tI/AAAAAAAABC8/FpqXb1eHHJQ/s1600-h/IMG_5549.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO5NPg5tI/AAAAAAAABC8/FpqXb1eHHJQ/s320/IMG_5549.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289001557107467986" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPY3wHblI/AAAAAAAABDs/j4lHRUFZnQ0/s1600-h/IMG_5598.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPY3wHblI/AAAAAAAABDs/j4lHRUFZnQ0/s320/IMG_5598.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002101094444626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPYnaLk3I/AAAAAAAABDk/U2IUlQbb9cg/s1600-h/IMG_5596.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPYnaLk3I/AAAAAAAABDk/U2IUlQbb9cg/s320/IMG_5596.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002096707474290" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO4qN-dUI/AAAAAAAABC0/FRtVVDFKOwQ/s1600-h/IMG_5541.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZO4qN-dUI/AAAAAAAABC0/FRtVVDFKOwQ/s320/IMG_5541.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289001547705775426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP4PyA7uI/AAAAAAAABEk/sh5w73lzFq4/s1600-h/IMG_5648.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP4PyA7uI/AAAAAAAABEk/sh5w73lzFq4/s320/IMG_5648.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002640120803042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP38JQ1eI/AAAAAAAABEc/hS4QYiQpsu4/s1600-h/IMG_5639.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP38JQ1eI/AAAAAAAABEc/hS4QYiQpsu4/s320/IMG_5639.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002634849605090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP3umWczI/AAAAAAAABEU/pjlqcOCLH8k/s1600-h/IMG_5637.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP3umWczI/AAAAAAAABEU/pjlqcOCLH8k/s320/IMG_5637.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002631213511474" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP220n-RI/AAAAAAAABEM/auVEYPG6EbY/s1600-h/IMG_5634.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP220n-RI/AAAAAAAABEM/auVEYPG6EbY/s320/IMG_5634.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002616240994578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP2cc6lMI/AAAAAAAABEE/qcw7MRLL6ug/s1600-h/IMG_5633.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZP2cc6lMI/AAAAAAAABEE/qcw7MRLL6ug/s320/IMG_5633.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002609162228930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPZcb3OfI/AAAAAAAABD8/-ihr-SYLuck/s1600-h/IMG_5628.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPZcb3OfI/AAAAAAAABD8/-ihr-SYLuck/s320/IMG_5628.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002110941608434" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPZRmxyYI/AAAAAAAABD0/ueziT7HyCS4/s1600-h/IMG_5626.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SWZPZRmxyYI/AAAAAAAABD0/ueziT7HyCS4/s320/IMG_5626.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289002108034599298" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-9160773716119020887?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-59535882311040349032008-12-20T22:46:00.000-08:002008-12-23T11:51:42.071-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU_NAVgQH2I/AAAAAAAABCs/RoErohCNVzw/s1600-h/b%26w.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU_NAVgQH2I/AAAAAAAABCs/RoErohCNVzw/s320/b%26w.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282666293584994146" /></a>The Christmas season has been great for us so far. We've attended a couple of really fun parties with our unschooling friends. One involved an insane cookie exchange, jumping on the trampoline in the rain and lots of High School Musical (Charis' new favorite). The other was a raw dessert making party - yeah! My good friend Ginger arranged it, and we had such a lovely time of not-cooking, eating, laughing and relating with each other. I really like those girls!<div><br /></div><div>My parents invited us to go to their church's Christmas program.It involved lots of Christmas carol singing. Everytime Charis knew one of the songs she looked at me excitedly and whispered (really loud) "I know this one!"  She hasn't figured out yet that there are only 10 carols that get recycled every year. This first picture is waiting for the program to start.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3oj9JowPI/AAAAAAAABCE/eEPjQlCEm7U/s1600-h/kiss.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3oj9JowPI/AAAAAAAABCE/eEPjQlCEm7U/s320/kiss.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282133642383507698" /></a><br /></div><div>After the program they had set up this elaborate village they called "Christmasville". Every little house front had a carnival game to play with a candy reward. It was like Halloween all over again. There was even snow falling the entire time. Kinda insane, but the kids loved it. Charis got a reindeer painted on her face.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3okYvlm_I/AAAAAAAABCc/s8YUENmpY4s/s1600-h/mirror.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3okYvlm_I/AAAAAAAABCc/s8YUENmpY4s/s320/mirror.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282133649790442482" /></a><br /></div><div>And, classic thing to happen, Paxton was chosen to help with the magic show. This magician was hilarious, and Pax was pretty confused. He had him take off his shoes and socks (which Pax was not too sure about) and finally found the missing handkerchief in his shoe. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3okNuPk6I/AAAAAAAABCU/vmLiKBLwDDc/s1600-h/magic+show.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3okNuPk6I/AAAAAAAABCU/vmLiKBLwDDc/s320/magic+show.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282133646832014242" /></a><br /></div><div>We had an early Xmas celebration with Caleb's uncle and aunt. They got a bunch of fun little gifts -the kinds I don't buy for them. So, I don't have to feel bad for saying no to those things anymore. Here is a picture of Jonas walking his dog. </div><div> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3okoV9FTI/AAAAAAAABCk/A2Y9m5oIeiY/s1600-h/doggy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3okoV9FTI/AAAAAAAABCk/A2Y9m5oIeiY/s320/doggy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282133653977896242" /></a><br /></div><div>Caleb and I celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary December 18th. It was a great night. Luckily we had stayed up late the night before talking through a big "issue" we were having. So date night was cleared up to just enjoy each other. We went to dinner in Del Mar at a yummy restaurant called Paradise Grill. Then saw an amazing movie, "Slumdog Millionaire". Caleb says its his new favorite movie (which is not easily proclaimed). I highly recommend seeing it. It takes place in India and is about a poor kid who makes it on India's version of "So you want to be a Millionaire". It is primarily a love story, but interwoven with the horrors of India, brotherly relations, and destiny's pull. The filming is really creative and I loved the soundtrack.   <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3ojznwxaI/AAAAAAAABCM/s-M3VXi9ctY/s1600-h/kisssers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SU3ojznwxaI/AAAAAAAABCM/s-M3VXi9ctY/s320/kisssers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282133639825507746" /></a>Im really really happy to be married to Caleb. Its been overwhelmingly clear to me the last few years that God made us perfect for each other. We have both learned so much from our relationship and become more full people because of it. And, best of all, we still really like each other.  I still think he's super cute and funny. And want to hang out with him more than anyone else. I feel thankful to have been married to him these past 9 years.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-5953588231104034903?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-60312937309663633632008-12-11T23:02:00.000-08:002008-12-11T23:13:45.663-08:00<div>Caleb's work had a craft day last week. Employees were encouraged to bring homemade gifts to sell and everyone was invited to come purchase. Caleb asked if Charis could bring something and they agreed. She was really excited to have a place to sell some of her stuff. She makes things all the time and often has elaborate plans of how she's going to sell them (involving knocking on all the neighbor's doors or something like that). So this was a perfect opportunity.</div><div><br /></div><div>Once we settled on making gift tags for Christmas presents we got to work. I did the cutting and gluing, and she did the coloring and designing. It was a really fun project to do together and they turned out awesome. She was really nervous that no one was going to buy them. And I was too when she was planning to charge $5 per tag. But she was okay with 2 tags for $1.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SUIMzuB_kDI/AAAAAAAABB8/1DQtbARPQzw/s1600-h/gift+tags.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SUIMzuB_kDI/AAAAAAAABB8/1DQtbARPQzw/s320/gift+tags.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278795795900895282" /></a>Everyone loved her and her tags. She made over $20! She spent some of it right away on other people's crafts and then spent most of the rest on a new video game (Cooking Mama).<div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SUIMzbvMf6I/AAAAAAAABB0/2AXcq5bWrfY/s1600-h/charis%40outreach.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SUIMzbvMf6I/AAAAAAAABB0/2AXcq5bWrfY/s320/charis%40outreach.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278795790990213026" /></a></div><div>I think we will be doing more of this in the future.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6031293730966363363?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-69821751145003243502008-12-06T13:55:00.000-08:002008-12-06T23:30:50.187-08:00<div>Good friends</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1eSJuDiI/AAAAAAAAAxU/JhrP1tNNnM0/s1600-h/kelli.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1eSJuDiI/AAAAAAAAAxU/JhrP1tNNnM0/s320/kelli.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276799814035443234" /><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STt6qJWZSqI/AAAAAAAAAx0/fofY0cKQ4go/s1600-h/cute+boys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STt6qJWZSqI/AAAAAAAAAx0/fofY0cKQ4go/s320/cute+boys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276946252877613730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STt6qCyE1hI/AAAAAAAAAxs/fD9yoNCcKzg/s1600-h/canhams.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STt6qCyE1hI/AAAAAAAAAxs/fD9yoNCcKzg/s320/canhams.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276946251114665490" /></a><br />Our fun yard, especially the fruit<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1eJz5vaI/AAAAAAAAAxM/1UAGNuks0_M/s1600-h/kumquats.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1eJz5vaI/AAAAAAAAAxM/1UAGNuks0_M/s320/kumquats.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276799811796450722" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1dzu9vdI/AAAAAAAAAxE/EnwOjEvZyA0/s1600-h/swing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1dzu9vdI/AAAAAAAAAxE/EnwOjEvZyA0/s320/swing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276799805870161362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1dwIz_-I/AAAAAAAAAw8/P05JDDwQKBU/s1600-h/wisteria.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1dwIz_-I/AAAAAAAAAw8/P05JDDwQKBU/s320/wisteria.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276799804904832994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1dZIlGuI/AAAAAAAAAw0/lq1X7RaU5wI/s1600-h/yard.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr1dZIlGuI/AAAAAAAAAw0/lq1X7RaU5wI/s320/yard.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276799798729841378" /></a>These pics are from one of our last days in Fallbrook<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr17aCuLvI/AAAAAAAAAxk/Wcizz032BuY/s1600-h/kiss.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr17aCuLvI/AAAAAAAAAxk/Wcizz032BuY/s320/kiss.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276800314369781490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr17AOYOeI/AAAAAAAAAxc/npEup3-8hqo/s1600-h/fallbrook+walk.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/STr17AOYOeI/AAAAAAAAAxc/npEup3-8hqo/s320/fallbrook+walk.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276800307439352290" /></a><div>Life is slower there.  Less traffic. More fruit trees. We'll miss things about it.</div><div>But I'm happy to be home.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6982175114500324350?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-85848546540976967232008-11-18T17:01:00.000-08:002008-11-20T15:44:08.508-08:00Me @ 3 months old.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SSNmAqZxhbI/AAAAAAAAAwU/nhvtfimiPFY/s1600-h/cutie.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SSNmAqZxhbI/AAAAAAAAAwU/nhvtfimiPFY/s320/cutie.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270168150522037682" /></a><br /><br />Me @ 3 years. (It's okay to laugh - I do, after I cry about it. I blame my mom for this one. You don't put the chubby kid in a high necked moo-moo.)<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SSNmAyQu30I/AAAAAAAAAwc/TniVq7IrdTY/s1600-h/fatty.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SSNmAyQu30I/AAAAAAAAAwc/TniVq7IrdTY/s320/fatty.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270168152631598914" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br />Me @ 33.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SSX1qgjmxTI/AAAAAAAAAws/1x9PB-QtV9Q/s1600-h/33.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SSX1qgjmxTI/AAAAAAAAAws/1x9PB-QtV9Q/s320/33.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270889049549620530" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8584854654097696723?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-34955489825798883712008-11-13T21:25:00.000-08:002008-11-13T21:43:48.517-08:00<div style="margin:10px auto;width:410px;"><object width="401" height="228"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2239642&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;show_title=0&amp;show_byline=0&amp;show_portrait=0&amp;color=01AAEA&amp;fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2239642&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;show_title=0&amp;show_byline=0&amp;show_portrait=0&amp;color=01AAEA&amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="401" height="228"></embed></object></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3495548982579888371?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-39219373739232805882008-11-07T09:56:00.000-08:002008-11-08T15:10:56.827-08:00<div>I'm getting caught-up on my posts. Hopefully I'll get a little video up in the next couple of days of Jonas' 3rd birthday.  </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8h0XOmI/AAAAAAAAAvE/WNtWsobm8g0/s1600-h/skull+%26+crossbone.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8h0XOmI/AAAAAAAAAvE/WNtWsobm8g0/s320/skull+%26+crossbone.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265976741173082722" /></a>Our halloween was quite fun.  The kid's all had special costumes this year. Paxton got an outfit from the Disney store; he looked so handsome as Prince Caspian (from the Narnia series).<div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8gKwpkI/AAAAAAAAAu8/pZoz41mtn84/s1600-h/prince+caspian.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8gKwpkI/AAAAAAAAAu8/pZoz41mtn84/s320/prince+caspian.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265976740730152514" /></a>Charis wore a "little red riding hood" costume my mom made for me when I was her age. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8o0vG7I/AAAAAAAAAu0/0TBouiXqUCY/s1600-h/pooped+out.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8o0vG7I/AAAAAAAAAu0/0TBouiXqUCY/s320/pooped+out.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265976743053695922" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8UUCs8I/AAAAAAAAAus/VpCu8RKzw9A/s1600-h/kiss.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8UUCs8I/AAAAAAAAAus/VpCu8RKzw9A/s320/kiss.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265976737547858882" /></a>And Jonas was a bear. So cute. My mom made that costume for my older brother when he was Jonas' age. So it's about 37 years old.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8NX9LxI/AAAAAAAAAuk/yMMQ6mQffjM/s1600-h/little+bear.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSB8NX9LxI/AAAAAAAAAuk/yMMQ6mQffjM/s320/little+bear.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265976735685226258" /></a>My kids put up these hilarious home-made halloween decorations around the house. This first picture of Pax posing by a ghost kills me.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE93zbEFI/AAAAAAAAAvs/sPAfVcmSYrs/s1600-h/seriously%3F.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE93zbEFI/AAAAAAAAAvs/sPAfVcmSYrs/s320/seriously%3F.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265980062789472338" /></a>Then of course, no halloween is complete without a couple of zombies in the house...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9h1TcHI/AAAAAAAAAvk/Rxa5DZNb18Y/s1600-h/pooky.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9h1TcHI/AAAAAAAAAvk/Rxa5DZNb18Y/s320/pooky.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265980056891781234" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9pnlgVI/AAAAAAAAAvc/O7uvc766aRw/s1600-h/mummy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9pnlgVI/AAAAAAAAAvc/O7uvc766aRw/s320/mummy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265980058981728594" /></a>Our day started with a Halloween lunch party with our book club friends. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9YiEqwI/AAAAAAAAAvU/VLjBuy1pckg/s1600-h/friends.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9YiEqwI/AAAAAAAAAvU/VLjBuy1pckg/s320/friends.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265980054395202306" /></a>One of the little girls had organized tons of games that she beautifully orchestrated. I was so impressed with her kind leadership abilities at the age of 9. All the kids had so much fun. The night of Halloween we attended another party with our unschooling friends. You can see the pictures <a href="http://twofreeboysplus3.blogspot.com/2008/11/more-pictures-of-halloween.html">here</a>. Ginger hosted and did an incredible job with homemade bean bags for games, personalized glasses for everyone, hand made spiders, pumpkin pie and more.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9cm23aI/AAAAAAAAAvM/Dwsit_fjVQg/s1600-h/games.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRSE9cm23aI/AAAAAAAAAvM/Dwsit_fjVQg/s320/games.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265980055489011106" /></a><br /></div><div>Pax finished his first season of soccer. Not to be his last I'm sure. He really enjoyed being a part of the "Fireflys". <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZSLd4C-I/AAAAAAAAAwM/IgEVUNcL-Eg/s1600-h/last+soccer+day.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZSLd4C-I/AAAAAAAAAwM/IgEVUNcL-Eg/s320/last+soccer+day.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266424614362811362" /></a>We loved his coach. She kept the practices fun and low key. I never heard her yell at a kid or shame anyone. She was only encouraging. That was so perfect for Paxton.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZSBIRaDI/AAAAAAAAAwE/NTOdCXVMaMQ/s1600-h/soccer+coach.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZSBIRaDI/AAAAAAAAAwE/NTOdCXVMaMQ/s320/soccer+coach.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266424611587844146" /></a>He made his first goal on the last game! It was so cool to watch him improve over the season. He began timid and scared of the ball. And became much more confident and bold by the end. He got the "most improved" award.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZR0euBYI/AAAAAAAAAv8/1ZUskP5xtRg/s1600-h/the+hero.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZR0euBYI/AAAAAAAAAv8/1ZUskP5xtRg/s320/the+hero.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266424608192333186" /></a>I love this picture of him on the sidelines with his little friend Ethan. This is such a Pax face.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZRqxBGeI/AAAAAAAAAv0/rqRAHroGQps/s1600-h/boy+fight.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SRYZRqxBGeI/AAAAAAAAAv0/rqRAHroGQps/s320/boy+fight.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266424605584726498" /></a></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3921937373923280588?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-46134581159294250822008-10-27T12:58:00.000-07:002008-11-02T19:59:15.459-08:00<div>I started this post a week a go. Since then, SO much has happened.  I'm tempted to delete this and just write about the more recent stuff (like Bates Nut Farm, Jonas' bday, Legoland, and Halloween just to name a few). I had witty and interesting commentary planned for each of these photos, but you'll just have to make up your own commentary...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPZGfqHI/AAAAAAAAAts/RQoFZS8Yt6k/s1600-h/sisters.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPZGfqHI/AAAAAAAAAts/RQoFZS8Yt6k/s320/sisters.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261927563925629042" /></a>mom + sisters</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPZhtbXI/AAAAAAAAAt0/yNdF6BKo-xM/s1600-h/james.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPZhtbXI/AAAAAAAAAt0/yNdF6BKo-xM/s320/james.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261927564039777650" /></a>good friends at the James concert at House of Blues</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPlw34tI/AAAAAAAAAt8/ucHDxroVUHY/s1600-h/astrid.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPlw34tI/AAAAAAAAAt8/ucHDxroVUHY/s320/astrid.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261927567324603090" /></a>love this pic</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPv5CDyI/AAAAAAAAAuE/CzCd9-RM4Js/s1600-h/chris%27+bday.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfPv5CDyI/AAAAAAAAAuE/CzCd9-RM4Js/s320/chris%27+bday.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261927570043178786" /></a>my awesome family celebrating Chris' 21st bday</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfP4Ot9AI/AAAAAAAAAuM/KWAPVkMVDLo/s1600-h/pigs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQYfP4Ot9AI/AAAAAAAAAuM/KWAPVkMVDLo/s320/pigs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261927572281619458" /></a>pig racing @ the pumpkin patch</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQ52b_DxyfI/AAAAAAAAAuc/1TKTy1WrxBU/s1600-h/grams.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQ52b_DxyfI/AAAAAAAAAuc/1TKTy1WrxBU/s320/grams.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264275237598513650" /></a>my beautiful mother-in-law and cute husband</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQ52bhx27yI/AAAAAAAAAuU/iE4vUYgbaB8/s1600-h/brents.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SQ52bhx27yI/AAAAAAAAAuU/iE4vUYgbaB8/s320/brents.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264275229738725154" /></a>best friends forever (the Brent's kids)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4613458115929425082?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-368847312116224892008-10-01T19:45:00.000-07:002008-10-05T15:15:10.854-07:00<div>Caleb's best friend from Jr. High contacted him recently. It'd been about 10 years since they had talked but apparently that didn't matter. Because, before I knew it, him and his wife and 3 kids were road-tripping down from Seattle to stay at our house for a week. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2yYFetmI/AAAAAAAAAtU/mEGyey-TUZU/s1600-h/bffs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2yYFetmI/AAAAAAAAAtU/mEGyey-TUZU/s320/bffs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252383304507635298" /></a><br /><div>I was a little unsure about the success of such a visit. Would they still be BFFs? would I get along with his wife? would they mind our weird lifestyle? how about the fact that they'd all have to sleep in one bedroom? I settled on the notion that they must be low-key people if they were willing to do such a trip at all. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2fqJCylI/AAAAAAAAAss/jEYvjNi5b0o/s1600-h/firetruck.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2fqJCylI/AAAAAAAAAss/jEYvjNi5b0o/s320/firetruck.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252382982936906322" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>I'm happy to report that we are all now BFFs. We all got along surprisingly well. Our families meshed perfectly.  The guys have so much in common it's creepy. Even down to random things like hating mayonnaise and vinegar.  They have started 2 business projects together already (did I mention their mind's think alike) and have plans for us to all live together by the beach some day.  </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2ftLldhI/AAAAAAAAAs8/EJL4HrxrS7w/s1600-h/toddler+sand+fun.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2ftLldhI/AAAAAAAAAs8/EJL4HrxrS7w/s320/toddler+sand+fun.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252382983752873490" /></a><br />Caleb took a day off work and we went to Legoland together. I thought this picture was cool...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2yfK4H3I/AAAAAAAAAtc/haQWlY7iCsI/s1600-h/legocity.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2yfK4H3I/AAAAAAAAAtc/haQWlY7iCsI/s320/legocity.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252383306409320306" /></a><br />All of their kids are adorable. It was fun to live with other kids for a while. Their "middle child" is one of the funniest kid's I've ever met. We're still saying things he said, like, "where's my cute guy dad?" (Hear this said with a raspy 2 year old voice, as he refers to his new, large-eyed stuffed animal.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2fkwcBlI/AAAAAAAAAs0/4UJkc-Gbh3Y/s1600-h/wiam.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2fkwcBlI/AAAAAAAAAs0/4UJkc-Gbh3Y/s320/wiam.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252382981491525202" /></a>Their baby is too cute. She ate sand for the first time at Moonlight Beach! It was a proud moment for us all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2fvxRSxI/AAAAAAAAAtE/i4Nt36RKv1w/s1600-h/kalynn.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2fvxRSxI/AAAAAAAAAtE/i4Nt36RKv1w/s320/kalynn.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252382984447806226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2f6WKAaI/AAAAAAAAAtM/C9hWxq0rjFg/s1600-h/sandy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2f6WKAaI/AAAAAAAAAtM/C9hWxq0rjFg/s320/sandy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252382987286872482" /></a>I'm so glad they were able to come, and that our visit only vaguely resembled Jr. High. We are definitely hoping to visit them in the near future.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2ylt1IFI/AAAAAAAAAtk/R-yKZgl0mms/s1600-h/all+of+us.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SOQ2ylt1IFI/AAAAAAAAAtk/R-yKZgl0mms/s320/all+of+us.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252383308166537298" /></a><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-36884731211622489?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-5640759325984287272008-09-26T08:34:00.000-07:002008-09-26T22:09:58.219-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27v6FiD4I/AAAAAAAAAp4/uZsi9-FAYkU/s1600-h/fav+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27v6FiD4I/AAAAAAAAAp4/uZsi9-FAYkU/s320/fav+pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250559172304572290" /></a><br /><br />We try hard to avoid the middle child issues with Pax, but he kinda fits the stereotype. It's intensified by the fact that Charis is the classic first child and Jonas the stereotypical baby. Paxton has the most easy going, un-opinionated personality; so the other two get <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">heard</span> more. But its been cool to see him grow in this. I hear Charis talking him into things (all the time) but I also hear pax saying "no!" a lot more. Sometimes I want to scream at him to "hurry up" (with charis it's "slow down") but when he wants to cuddle and kiss I don't mind the slowness.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27v7w2V7I/AAAAAAAAApw/QTgP9ivHkp8/s1600-h/pax+with+clips.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27v7w2V7I/AAAAAAAAApw/QTgP9ivHkp8/s320/pax+with+clips.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250559172754692018" /></a><br /><br />He is the classic example of a kid who needs positive affirmation. and lots of it. He cannot function if he feels we are angry with him. he completely shuts down. And simple tasks become impossible for him. Until realizing this, we weren't big fans of the positive affirmation method. Charis and Jonas don't respond to it (overly positive talk). But Pax lives for it. ("Pax, you can do it! You can put on your socks all by yourself. You are good at it!!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27v2DnbiI/AAAAAAAAApo/kN5GLWD-zfA/s1600-h/pax+library+art.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27v2DnbiI/AAAAAAAAApo/kN5GLWD-zfA/s320/pax+library+art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250559171222793762" /></a>His soccer team, the Dragonflies, has been such a good experience for him. He seems to really like having an activity that only he does. Until now he's never wanted to do a class or anything apart from Charis. It's really cute to see him be an important member of this little 5 year old team.  I feel like he's grown up so much in the past month.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27v6jBiuI/AAAAAAAAAqA/c8XZ4QWtG-E/s1600-h/soccer+huddle.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27vxMfXOI/AAAAAAAAAqI/k0TjXVr6-MY/s1600-h/sidelines.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN27vxMfXOI/AAAAAAAAAqI/k0TjXVr6-MY/s320/sidelines.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250559169917836514" /></a><br />He lost his first tooth this week. Bottom middle. He was working it for so long and it finally came out (after so much wiggling) and thats it. There's been no more mention of it. We keep forgetting about the tooth fairy thing. Ooops! Tonight she (he?) will appear.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN2-J51ZWeI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/IMsm4A1h3uk/s1600-h/tooth!.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SN2-J51ZWeI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/IMsm4A1h3uk/s320/tooth!.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250561817936746978" /></a></div><div>I love my middle child.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-564075932598428727?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-18332747035558632602008-09-05T22:21:00.000-07:002008-09-05T22:53:09.139-07:00Has anyone actually watched the entire movie "Hair"? I know the bits I saw were enough to satisfy my hippy curiosity. That is a weird movie.<div><br /></div><div>I gave Charis a cute bob. She likes it. Especially poofing it up with her hands. But I think she secretly still wants long hair to her waist. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYStG_7JI/AAAAAAAAAos/_7cpgKJew_A/s1600-h/charis+hair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYStG_7JI/AAAAAAAAAos/_7cpgKJew_A/s320/charis+hair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242779625838341266" /></a><br /></div><div>Paxton got a serious chop. The kid is so dang cute you'd think I couldn't give him a bad cut. But I did. The first try. I just wanted the bangs out of the face for his (first) soccer game tomorrow. But it was so mullety. I just had to go with the butch. But I like the short hair on him. He kept looking at himself in the mirror and making cute faces. Then he wanted lots of hugs. Love that kid.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYSnX6v9I/AAAAAAAAAo0/ppahrcVruf8/s1600-h/pax.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYSnX6v9I/AAAAAAAAAo0/ppahrcVruf8/s320/pax.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242779624298692562" /></a><br /><div>Jonas got a trim too. Not too drastic. I don't have a picture of it, so I'll just post this one instead.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYSpONC6I/AAAAAAAAAo8/7YJcZ5Fij_M/s1600-h/sushi+jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYSpONC6I/AAAAAAAAAo8/7YJcZ5Fij_M/s320/sushi+jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242779624794819490" /></a></div><br /></div><div>But who is this chick with the long beautiful hair? oh yes. That is me. I let my sister do me up with her hair extensions, dress and heals. I know. That does not even look like me. Caleb was freaked out. I was freaked out. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYS9oi2WI/AAAAAAAAApE/zXipXVjT6KA/s1600-h/me%3F.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYS9oi2WI/AAAAAAAAApE/zXipXVjT6KA/s320/me%3F.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242779630274009442" /></a><br /></div><div>A few more...</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYSwnQwAI/AAAAAAAAApM/7KFCQM-IQXM/s1600-h/tie+dye.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIYSwnQwAI/AAAAAAAAApM/7KFCQM-IQXM/s320/tie+dye.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242779626778968066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIZW7JxIpI/AAAAAAAAApU/AikMfHL-B7Q/s1600-h/crazzzy+Jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIZW7JxIpI/AAAAAAAAApU/AikMfHL-B7Q/s320/crazzzy+Jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242780797839155858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIaLcj-IDI/AAAAAAAAApc/GElzlBb7lQs/s1600-h/masks.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SMIaLcj-IDI/AAAAAAAAApc/GElzlBb7lQs/s320/masks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242781700160626738" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-1833274703555863260?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-70633252742202994782008-08-21T22:05:00.000-07:002008-08-21T22:22:23.104-07:00<div>I recently bought Charis some face paint...</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JWxKPmfI/AAAAAAAAAn8/i5UVUd25r48/s1600-h/3+kids+face+art.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JWxKPmfI/AAAAAAAAAn8/i5UVUd25r48/s320/3+kids+face+art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237204072180718066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JW5NJQjI/AAAAAAAAAoE/5lbl_ewNEuw/s1600-h/charis+and+luna.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JW5NJQjI/AAAAAAAAAoE/5lbl_ewNEuw/s320/charis+and+luna.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237204074340368946" /></a><br /><div>Caleb took us to an amazing dive of a place in Vista: Pepper Tree Frosty. I guess they've been there forever, and have a local following. The shakes were quite tasty. I recommend them to anyone in the area. Of course the kids loved it.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JXJ9inXI/AAAAAAAAAoM/enDBpO8gBdM/s1600-h/peppertree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JXJ9inXI/AAAAAAAAAoM/enDBpO8gBdM/s320/peppertree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237204078838324594" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JXLAx2PI/AAAAAAAAAoU/0HFsVfCUkCE/s1600-h/boys+at+peppertree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JXLAx2PI/AAAAAAAAAoU/0HFsVfCUkCE/s320/boys+at+peppertree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237204079120341234" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JXXFp-lI/AAAAAAAAAoc/QAfQkY2fl-Q/s1600-h/artsy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5JXXFp-lI/AAAAAAAAAoc/QAfQkY2fl-Q/s320/artsy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237204082362022482" /></a><br /></div><div>Charis and Pax took an art class at the local art school this summer. Pax wasn't into it, but Charis liked it. They did both like seeing their finished work mounted on the wall with printed name tags. So official! I'm happy to see my kids figuring out what they like (or don't like). Charis tends to like everything and Pax tends to like nothing. But I've been seeing them both grow. Recently Charis took a crocheting class at Joannes. She hated it! There was supposed to be a part 2 class and she had zero interest. I was shocked. She's never turned down an opportunity to go to an event. But she was confident she didn't like crocheting (too boring I think) and being with new friends in a class wasn't enough reason to go back. Conversely, Pax has been making good friends quite easily recently. It is so heart warming to see him have "best friends". He was never that kid before. I hope they continue to know who they are and feel confident in that. I hope I do as well.</div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5Kpl8p2II/AAAAAAAAAok/YULBDu4rMwY/s1600-h/art+class.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SK5Kpl8p2II/AAAAAAAAAok/YULBDu4rMwY/s320/art+class.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237205495100070018" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7063325274220299478?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-91133851527313620112008-08-07T22:14:00.000-07:002008-08-07T22:37:15.083-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWj6q1LcI/AAAAAAAAAmU/8o8O-6Vnh4U/s1600-h/Charis+and+Lilly.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWj6q1LcI/AAAAAAAAAmU/8o8O-6Vnh4U/s320/Charis+and+Lilly.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232011304653630914" /></a><br /><div>I met my friend Rochelle in college. She stood out right away as a free-thinking hippy chick. I knew we should be friends. She really was influential in helping me see non-conventional ways of living (who needs bathrooms?) She's always encouraged me to think and live more naturally. The seeds she started planning all those years a go have really taken root now. Although we haven't lived near each other since our girls were babies, we've kept up our friendship through many moves, states, kids and years.  She's one of those friends I know I'll always stay connected to. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWj6CWs0I/AAAAAAAAAmc/1_j4q0SvVzE/s1600-h/charis+and+eva.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWj6CWs0I/AAAAAAAAAmc/1_j4q0SvVzE/s320/charis+and+eva.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232011304483861314" /></a>Rochelle and her husband and 4 kids came to visit us last weekend. Our kids love each other so much. They were all born with in a couple months of each other. Charis and Eva are especially close since they are only 10 days apart, and have seen lots of pictures of themselves together as infants. They always immediately reconect, no matter how long it's been. Rochelle has had one more kid than me recently. Baby Lilly. Charis was in love. She knows what she wants for Christmas now (Santa ain't gonna deliver that though).</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWkCmTOFI/AAAAAAAAAmk/jKoBDjiYfmE/s1600-h/naked+with+pollies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWkCmTOFI/AAAAAAAAAmk/jKoBDjiYfmE/s320/naked+with+pollies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232011306782111826" /></a>We both have Jo Jo's. Jonas and Josiah. And they are both amazing and beautiful little stinkers.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWkIcrGXI/AAAAAAAAAms/JzRyQ_IntGc/s1600-h/tree+time.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWkIcrGXI/AAAAAAAAAms/JzRyQ_IntGc/s320/tree+time.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232011308352346482" /></a>Lots of fun was had climbing trees, playing dress up, eating yummy farmer's market food, and talking about kids and China and God and parenting.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWkN90ixI/AAAAAAAAAm0/UrrLfn__pas/s1600-h/all+the+kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvWkN90ixI/AAAAAAAAAm0/UrrLfn__pas/s320/all+the+kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232011309833554706" /></a><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvYwDXPBLI/AAAAAAAAAm8/QNbR5Zaf0tw/s1600-h/boys+sleeping+not.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvYwDXPBLI/AAAAAAAAAm8/QNbR5Zaf0tw/s320/boys+sleeping+not.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232013712169043122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvYwCN1v7I/AAAAAAAAAnE/LeyJp4-Rf-U/s1600-h/goodbye+Lilly.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJvYwCN1v7I/AAAAAAAAAnE/LeyJp4-Rf-U/s320/goodbye+Lilly.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232013711861202866" /></a>We could hardly pull Lilly away from Charis. She must have given her 10 good bye hugs and kisses. <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-9113385152731362011?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-60089978543580832832008-08-05T22:09:00.000-07:002008-08-05T22:50:05.674-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkye5R5IcI/AAAAAAAAAlc/RayxDYDxLeE/s1600-h/cowkids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkye5R5IcI/AAAAAAAAAlc/RayxDYDxLeE/s320/cowkids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231267948520874434" /></a>my kids went to vacation bible school a couple of weeks a go. their grandma's church was putting it on, so we decided to try it. i wasn't sure what they'd think, but it was the most fun week of their lives. they made strawberry jam, planted grape seeds, made cinnamon rolls, watched skits, played games, and ended the week with a carnival. they are still singing the songs they learned (signs and all) and can't wait to be babysat by one of their leaders. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyezAH1cI/AAAAAAAAAlk/DTMjnGw9aUA/s1600-h/vbs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyezAH1cI/AAAAAAAAAlk/DTMjnGw9aUA/s320/vbs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231267946835727810" /></a>some day Pax will appreciate this picture. but at 5, he just said cheese and ran away. the week was really fun for me and jonas too. i've never spent that much time alone with him! 3 hours every morning. he's so different when he's not with his siblings. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyfLDpKQI/AAAAAAAAAls/cNAPbddDyLg/s1600-h/worms.jpg"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyfLDpKQI/AAAAAAAAAls/cNAPbddDyLg/s1600-h/worms.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyfLDpKQI/AAAAAAAAAls/cNAPbddDyLg/s320/worms.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231267953292945666" /></a>caleb's mom brought over the ingredients for these "worms in dirt" desserts. the kids loved it. it's chocolate pudding with crushed oreos and gummy worms. yummy.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyfMkneBI/AAAAAAAAAl8/IQwZzwyAdN0/s1600-h/IMG_4669.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyfMkneBI/AAAAAAAAAl8/IQwZzwyAdN0/s320/IMG_4669.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231267953699682322" /></a>i went back and got more peaches from uncle mitchy's back yard. with Renee's kids this time. it was fun but hot.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyfBX9XPI/AAAAAAAAAl0/XNzNKoW9LhE/s1600-h/pancakes+with+jam.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJkyfBX9XPI/AAAAAAAAAl0/XNzNKoW9LhE/s320/pancakes+with+jam.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231267950693801202" /></a>here is charis enjoying the peach jam i made with the peaches from uncle mitchy's back yard. it turned out really good. she likes to eat it by the bowl full. i also made kumquat marmalade with the kumquats from my back yard. intense but tasty. and it really was not very difficult. flo let me use her jamming equipment, so that was helpful.</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJk5B0x77cI/AAAAAAAAAmM/yimbsalehT8/s1600-h/me+and+Renee.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJk5B0x77cI/AAAAAAAAAmM/yimbsalehT8/s320/me+and+Renee.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231275145678286274" /></a>i made my first non-bread-machine-bread with Renee last week! she is an experienced bread maker, so she taught me what to do. it was a fun thing to do together, and the bread turned out quite delicious. i think my bread machine is not going to get as much action anymore!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJk5B8F2DTI/AAAAAAAAAmE/XKwo0npuozs/s1600-h/bread.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SJk5B8F2DTI/AAAAAAAAAmE/XKwo0npuozs/s320/bread.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231275147640835378" /></a><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6008997854358083283?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-72268875757422037412008-07-23T22:03:00.000-07:002008-07-23T22:19:40.780-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgPuCFjYJI/AAAAAAAAAlE/CK2tmrUU1Fo/s1600-h/yeah!.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgPuCFjYJI/AAAAAAAAAlE/CK2tmrUU1Fo/s320/yeah!.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226444651072020626" /></a><br />we went to california adventure on sunday. my parents had tickets they weren't going to use, so we got to go for free. we had the option of using them at california adventure or disneyland. since none of us had ever been to cal adventure we went there. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgPtyssKtI/AAAAAAAAAk0/WBkH1ecfyHw/s1600-h/inc..jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgPtyssKtI/AAAAAAAAAk0/WBkH1ecfyHw/s320/inc..jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226444646941207250" /></a><br /></div><div>it was a really fun day. i highly recommend going for free. it makes the whole trip much more relaxing. there was no pressure, and the cost of food was slightly less disturbing (but seriously, what is going on?!). charis and pax braved the tower of terror, although pax said he never wanted to do it again. and we loved the playhouse disney show and monster's inc. ride. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgPtzq5BvI/AAAAAAAAAk8/ChHPTBcmYI0/s1600-h/wallE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgPtzq5BvI/AAAAAAAAAk8/ChHPTBcmYI0/s320/wallE.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226444647202096882" /></a><br /></div><div>overall we feel disneyland wins. california adventure was really impressive, and ascetically awesome, but it lacked the magic of disneyland. </div><div><br /></div><div>on a completely different subject, charis has pink hair this week (at least). it was crazy hair day at vbs, so i pulled out my old hair dye and did her up. she really likes it - is avoiding showers and all (i put my foot down on that after 2 days).  it thought i'd dig up an old picture of me when i used to have pick hair for those who have never seen it. </div><br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgQIumvsVI/AAAAAAAAAlM/ViHrkL8tbxs/s320/charis+pink.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226445109698998610" /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgQItcgdtI/AAAAAAAAAlU/KmqOuHs1WE8/s1600-h/kate+pink.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIgQItcgdtI/AAAAAAAAAlU/KmqOuHs1WE8/s320/kate+pink.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226445109387622098" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7226887575742203741?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-80303127542037207002008-07-21T22:22:00.000-07:002008-07-21T23:09:58.265-07:00If you have not already read this book by Barbara Kingsolver (author of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Poisonwood Bible</span>) I think you should. It was recommended to me by several people and I'm finally borrowing it from a friend (thank you <a href="http://www.sumbthucker.blogspot.com/">Flo</a>). I'm still in the process of reading it. And am already so inspired.<div> <div>Barbara and her family decided to live on only local foods (with only a few exceptions) for a year. The book is a documentation of that year. They have their own farm and do the rest of their shopping at farmer's markets. </div><div><br /></div><div>There have been many things that have slowly nudged me towards natural, local living. But this seems to be pushing me over. I love the idea of knowing where the food I eat comes from. And being connected to the land and people who produced it. I like looking forward to what there is instead of making lists of what I shouldn't have. It seems so obvious and ancient and tribal. I want more of this for my life. </div><div><br /></div><div>As noted in past posts, I'm no farmer. My family would starve if we had to live off the land that I  was tending. But the coolest thing happened this weekend to encourage local eating despite my farming ineptitude. We attended a birthday party in Wildomar (aprox 30 minutes away) for Caleb's uncle. On the way I was reading out loud from this book, and Caleb and I were hmmming and nodding as Barbara convinced us to support local farmers. Once at the party Aunt Karen invited me to pick some fruit from their trees. In the past this has meant oranges and lemons, which I am happy to receive for free. But right now their trees are loaded with apples, peaches, red plums and yellow plums. And soon there will be figs, oranges and apricots. She even gave me some eggs from her chicken. Amazing. The great part is she wants me to come back and pick as much as I want as often as I want.  Which I will be doing again this week. With plans to can and/or jam some of it with Flo. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIV0X3rlpZI/AAAAAAAAAkc/TC-6i9C-QPk/s1600-h/peaches.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIV0X3rlpZI/AAAAAAAAAkc/TC-6i9C-QPk/s320/peaches.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225710896065914258" /></a>I don't want to feel guilty for eating processed crackers that were probably not made in California, or for buying mango from Mexico. But I am learning about the other options. I am seeing the beauty of sacrifice. I'm more conscious of the impact my food (and clothing and toy, etc) choices make on my health, my community and the environment. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIV0YEsp6II/AAAAAAAAAkk/28RZXxNQHfQ/s1600-h/plum.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIV0YEsp6II/AAAAAAAAAkk/28RZXxNQHfQ/s320/plum.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225710899560048770" /></a>"Restraint equals indulgence" she says (p 32). I like this idea. Waiting for local, fresh, ripe food makes the coming of it so much sweeter. Maybe this will help me pass up those crackers and mango next week.   <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIV0Yc-Zw9I/AAAAAAAAAks/hXGwwVYYVTA/s1600-h/apples.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SIV0Yc-Zw9I/AAAAAAAAAks/hXGwwVYYVTA/s320/apples.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225710906076939218" /></a>     We've decided to rejoin a local CSA: <a href="http://www.localharvest.org/farms/M18853">J.R. Organics</a>. They have a farm in Escondido (30 minutes south) with lots of yummy produce. Our last CSA experience was positive, but I didn't know what to do with all the greens, and felt I was wasting too much food. Now, with my green smoothie drinking and motivation to support this farm I hope I will do better. They supply recipes for each item they send, so that should help too. I'll keep you posted.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8030312754203720700?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-74187900153815186612008-07-13T21:38:00.000-07:002008-07-13T22:13:14.906-07:00<div>this towel blob was so funny as it was happening. and is still quite humorous to me.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8jg3qiI/AAAAAAAAAi0/R3vaRwINsQs/s1600-h/towell.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8jg3qiI/AAAAAAAAAi0/R3vaRwINsQs/s320/towell.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222725252726368802" /></a>i love my w.t. baby. yogurt mustache and all.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8svg8mI/AAAAAAAAAi8/K50V9P7nPEQ/s1600-h/wt+jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8svg8mI/AAAAAAAAAi8/K50V9P7nPEQ/s320/wt+jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222725255203713634" /></a><br /></div><div>the dance parties are fabulous. they always come up with amazing costumes and charis tells everyone what to do. jonas generally does not comply.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8hDZUZI/AAAAAAAAAjE/N0lE0dHhtUE/s1600-h/dance.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8hDZUZI/AAAAAAAAAjE/N0lE0dHhtUE/s320/dance.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222725252065874322" /></a>why are there always crumbs on the floor? perhaps because pax feels the need to look at the bottom of his cereal bowl.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY862xbSI/AAAAAAAAAjM/n40bzdASpeg/s1600-h/cereal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY862xbSI/AAAAAAAAAjM/n40bzdASpeg/s320/cereal.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222725258992250146" /></a>we had dinner at caleb's dad's house recently. most of the time was spent sticking a sock in the dog's mouth and playing tug o war. why not?</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8wq5nyI/AAAAAAAAAjU/2VDISJr2XLE/s1600-h/dog+pull.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrY8wq5nyI/AAAAAAAAAjU/2VDISJr2XLE/s320/dog+pull.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222725256258101026" /></a>so cute. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbSxtw6zI/AAAAAAAAAjc/ZuKkIHLVlkQ/s1600-h/jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbSxtw6zI/AAAAAAAAAjc/ZuKkIHLVlkQ/s320/jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222727833518926642" /></a>this is me pretending to enjoy turning around in the car. i seriously can't handle it. after about 30 seconds of watching whatever interesting thing they want to show me i have to face forward again. does anyone else have this problem?</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbS7YqJ7I/AAAAAAAAAjk/lSVYc5LqhRQ/s1600-h/me.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbS7YqJ7I/AAAAAAAAAjk/lSVYc5LqhRQ/s320/me.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222727836114757554" /></a>this is me holding a lavender rose and wearing dark pink socks. and my brother with a bright red tie on. circa 1984</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbTHntndI/AAAAAAAAAjs/tii8xL6Qj3c/s1600-h/old+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbTHntndI/AAAAAAAAAjs/tii8xL6Qj3c/s320/old+pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222727839399124434" /></a>we got a pool! small, but it does the trick. i guess the trick being to cool the kids down. but poor charis is such a fish. i think she needs an olympic size pool at her constant disposal.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbTJ8dirI/AAAAAAAAAj0/JkzI2ciYP2g/s1600-h/pool.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbTJ8dirI/AAAAAAAAAj0/JkzI2ciYP2g/s320/pool.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222727840023022258" /></a>i love the way she looks in these.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbTUe4gtI/AAAAAAAAAj8/ZEqNkSIyp2c/s1600-h/charis.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrbTUe4gtI/AAAAAAAAAj8/ZEqNkSIyp2c/s320/charis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222727842851750610" /></a>i was so excited because my plum tree was blooming. aren't they beautiful! i was warned that the birds like to eat them. but i was checking on them everyday, and eagerly awaiting their maturity, so i thought i'd get to them before the birds. but one day i went out to water (as i had done the day before) and they were ALL gone. not half eaten. but picked clean. i was astonished. there was one lone plum on the ground and it was intact. it was amazing. those birds had a serious feast.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrdj4hhXVI/AAAAAAAAAkE/-6lIuNSFsdo/s1600-h/plums.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrdj4hhXVI/AAAAAAAAAkE/-6lIuNSFsdo/s320/plums.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222730326427655506" /></a>i have to try not to get too depressed about my garden. charis and i planted sunflowers, carrots and spinach. with plans of much more. this is the only thing that has bloomed after 2 months. and i'm not even sure its something we planted.  it's pathetically funny. </div><div> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrdjxSnUaI/AAAAAAAAAkM/FT-Tnc9yOKs/s1600-h/sunflower%3F.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrdjxSnUaI/AAAAAAAAAkM/FT-Tnc9yOKs/s320/sunflower%3F.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222730324486082978" /></a>lastly, this is why i call him mojo.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrdkBKcqlI/AAAAAAAAAkU/4yidkGJkHWc/s1600-h/mojo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHrdkBKcqlI/AAAAAAAAAkU/4yidkGJkHWc/s320/mojo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222730328746797650" /></a><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7418790015381518661?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-20686183819707305442008-07-11T23:22:00.000-07:002008-07-12T00:13:30.796-07:00im sorry i keep doing these huge updates. i want to renew the  site more regularly, but other things (people) keep taking precedent.  so, without promises of future regularity, here is a big picture update. <div><br /></div><div>a long time a go (it seems now) we visited our old roomates Kat and Bas. The little boys were real cute together.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPToBf2JI/AAAAAAAAAhM/0euHMirkyFY/s1600-h/boys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPToBf2JI/AAAAAAAAAhM/0euHMirkyFY/s320/boys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222010966515898514" /></a>and i like this picture of jonas and kat. he looks like he wants to eat her.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPTq7TeyI/AAAAAAAAAhU/5OxLewbFAiM/s1600-h/kat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPTq7TeyI/AAAAAAAAAhU/5OxLewbFAiM/s320/kat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222010967295228706" /></a>my aunt and cousin from alabama were visiting for a couple of weeks. we got to do several fun things with them...beach, sea world, boomers. i really like them. my aunt homeschools her 5 kids (oldest in college now). so she has a wealth of wisdom to share. my kids loved hanging out with lauren (12). she was super fun to play with.</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPTleGE7I/AAAAAAAAAhc/UcxNk1Ad2So/s1600-h/boomers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPTleGE7I/AAAAAAAAAhc/UcxNk1Ad2So/s320/boomers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222010965830538162" /></a>charis and pax  got to do a small pottery class in leaudacia with a fabulous lady who is a professional potter. we want to do more in the future.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPT5syfUI/AAAAAAAAAhs/ROJQrtSlPE8/s1600-h/pottery.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPT5syfUI/AAAAAAAAAhs/ROJQrtSlPE8/s320/pottery.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222010971260878146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPT8knVFI/AAAAAAAAAhk/gvgxkt5ypGU/s1600-h/pax+pottery.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhPT8knVFI/AAAAAAAAAhk/gvgxkt5ypGU/s320/pax+pottery.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222010972031898706" /></a>charis chose to make beads out of her clay. despite my doubts, her necklace turned out really cute. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhRVFD4FDI/AAAAAAAAAh0/XprjAu1ak20/s1600-h/necklace.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhRVFD4FDI/AAAAAAAAAh0/XprjAu1ak20/s320/necklace.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222013190513628210" /></a>my dad turned 70. we had a big luau for him. we all took turns crying as we talked about the steadfastness, generosity, integrity and humility of my dad. it was a great time of honoring him, and honoring God for blessing him.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhRVQYdeII/AAAAAAAAAh8/UpO-32ycbEA/s1600-h/70.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhRVQYdeII/AAAAAAAAAh8/UpO-32ycbEA/s320/70.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222013193552754818" /></a>we got to celebrate fathers day at the pannikin (fav coffee shop) with caleb's dad. we played carcason (a fun board game similar to settlers), and the kids begged him to talk in his donald duck voice over and over again. he's funny.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhRVd4flPI/AAAAAAAAAiE/1-TFNzjodPo/s1600-h/fred.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhRVd4flPI/AAAAAAAAAiE/1-TFNzjodPo/s320/fred.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222013197176771826" /></a>our friends from valencia, sarah and rob, came to visit us for the weekend. we kicked off their stay with a 3rd of july party. </div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV9-pVmpI/AAAAAAAAAiM/Bo9jqYEUy2I/s1600-h/iks.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV9-pVmpI/AAAAAAAAAiM/Bo9jqYEUy2I/s320/iks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222018291212851858" /></a>several hours were spend doing art. small art. artist trading cards to be specific. they are tiny pieces of art (baseball card size) that you are only allowed to trade, not buy or sell. here are out favorites from the weekend. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV98qJYlI/AAAAAAAAAiU/7ZuzL0zddYk/s1600-h/atc.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV98qJYlI/AAAAAAAAAiU/7ZuzL0zddYk/s320/atc.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222018290679374418" /></a>other old valencia friends came to join the fun saturday night. charis and pax wanted to take pictures. so the adults stood there and posed while the kids took photos. this time they told us to be silly!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV-DNy-DI/AAAAAAAAAic/HuSYzMixrog/s1600-h/kid+photographer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV-DNy-DI/AAAAAAAAAic/HuSYzMixrog/s320/kid+photographer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222018292439513138" /></a>rob and caleb might have played a lot of video games. it was so fun to have them here. we're already planning a trip to their tiny apartment in hollywood. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV-CNpLXI/AAAAAAAAAik/7TYePwxHaZo/s1600-h/video+games.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV-CNpLXI/AAAAAAAAAik/7TYePwxHaZo/s320/video+games.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222018292170435954" /></a>i got an early call tuesday morning from one of my favorite people. sarah jane. her and her husband are truckers, and they were passing by fallbrook  that morning. we met at the freeway exit and talked for over an hour. it was so fun and unexpected to get to see her. my  kids were totally impressed by her huge truck.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV-DQH4TI/AAAAAAAAAis/BUIu0YXrTwY/s1600-h/trucker.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SHhV-DQH4TI/AAAAAAAAAis/BUIu0YXrTwY/s320/trucker.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222018292449272114" /></a><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2068618381970730544?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-65510154622175636012008-06-22T01:17:00.000-07:002008-06-22T01:34:05.902-07:00<div>I have been making a video for my dad's 70th birthday party this weekend. It's your typical cheesy video. But I love doing it. I've always liked looking at pictures. And its that much better getting to put them to music! (MTV beware)</div><div>I thought I'd share some of the highlights...</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVYiudyI/AAAAAAAAAgs/O8kD0lunqTU/s1600-h/pumpkin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVYiudyI/AAAAAAAAAgs/O8kD0lunqTU/s320/pumpkin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214617880534873890" /></a>my sister has always affectionately called this one "pumpkin head". do I have a neck? you don't put the chubby kid in a high necked dress. note to self. but i very much wish  my mom still had that shell shirt. i would definitely wear it. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVU5Qi7I/AAAAAAAAAg0/PzaGvF5TGm4/s1600-h/sisters.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVU5Qi7I/AAAAAAAAAg0/PzaGvF5TGm4/s320/sisters.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214617879555640242" /></a>awww. getting sunburnt at salton sea rv park. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVg4IlMI/AAAAAAAAAg8/XHzVYJ6DqAE/s1600-h/dad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVg4IlMI/AAAAAAAAAg8/XHzVYJ6DqAE/s320/dad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214617882772149442" /></a>i absolutely love this picture of my dad. he is so cute. and the palm tree in the back. perfect.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVhA5NRI/AAAAAAAAAhE/sqcXu_uII5s/s1600-h/mom.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4LVhA5NRI/AAAAAAAAAhE/sqcXu_uII5s/s320/mom.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214617882808890642" /></a>and my mom. wow. i've never looked that good.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4K74aMFII/AAAAAAAAAgk/IMIeO-ofZsU/s1600-h/ScannedImage017_017_017.JPEG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SF4K74aMFII/AAAAAAAAAgk/IMIeO-ofZsU/s320/ScannedImage017_017_017.JPEG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214617442412401794" /></a>don't you miss the early 90s? me and april do. we looked hot. </div><div><br /></div><div>In all seriousness, I really like my family. Looking through these pictures reminds me of all the fun and love I've experienced my whole life. I know I'm blessed. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6551015462217563601?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-75024282846699501922008-05-30T20:57:00.000-07:002008-05-30T22:19:55.787-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVhddmVNI/AAAAAAAAAfM/c1ae1_xKU88/s1600-h/b%26w+us.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVhddmVNI/AAAAAAAAAfM/c1ae1_xKU88/s320/b%26w+us.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395940061467858" /></a><br />There is much to say about our trip. It was so full, and impactful and fun. It was definitely our best family vacation. (Jonas took this picture of me and Caleb.)<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDOAddmVAI/AAAAAAAAAdk/dd7aS864qzs/s1600-h/exiting+the+wedding.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDOAddmVAI/AAAAAAAAAdk/dd7aS864qzs/s320/exiting+the+wedding.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206387676544390146" /></a><br /><div>It all began in Valencia. Our close friend Esther got married. Although it was a very hot day, everything was beautiful (especially the bride). </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDOA9dmVBI/AAAAAAAAAds/StpdaQP5FRM/s1600-h/bridesmaids+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDOA9dmVBI/AAAAAAAAAds/StpdaQP5FRM/s320/bridesmaids+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206387685134324754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDOA9dmVCI/AAAAAAAAAd0/ke--iqky4mk/s1600-h/kids+wedding.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDOA9dmVCI/AAAAAAAAAd0/ke--iqky4mk/s320/kids+wedding.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206387685134324770" /></a><br />Me and my kids were in it. I was shocked that Jo made it down the isle, and with some help from Charis, he got flowers to the moms.  We had a really good time reconnecting with old friends. Many good conversations were had, and lots of loud laughing. Just like being back in the dorms.</div><div><br /></div><div>We spent a night in (the beautiful) Palmdale with some of our favorite people. The Brents are our twin family. Rochelle finally had a baby without me, and she is tiny and precious. (ahh, no pictures.) Our kids had a blast together as always. (This was the most modest picture I could find.)</div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQCtdmVDI/AAAAAAAAAd8/eKUJ-Jole2I/s1600-h/hottub.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQCtdmVDI/AAAAAAAAAd8/eKUJ-Jole2I/s320/hottub.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206389914222351410" /></a><br /><br />From there we went to Caleb's brother's house in the Bay Area. Cousin Elijah has been blogged about before. My kids love him, and Lydia is awesome too. She has this amazing hair and these big blue eyes (see pics below). It wasn't too hard to say goodbye (after 2 days) because we knew we were coming back on the return trip.<br /><br />Then onto the first night of camping with SD unschooling friends. It was beautiful site (near SF) with a cool little hike the kids did 3 or 4 times. Paxton turned 5 that day, and strangely, one of the friends we came with has the same birthday (same age too). So we celebrated with a pinata.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQC9dmVEI/AAAAAAAAAeE/FpjnKodCEF0/s1600-h/camping+kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQC9dmVEI/AAAAAAAAAeE/FpjnKodCEF0/s320/camping+kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206389918517318722" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQC9dmVFI/AAAAAAAAAeM/Yb6BBk0QW5Q/s1600-h/bear+tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQC9dmVFI/AAAAAAAAAeM/Yb6BBk0QW5Q/s320/bear+tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206389918517318738" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQDNdmVGI/AAAAAAAAAeU/3kXjwni2JtA/s1600-h/hike.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQDNdmVGI/AAAAAAAAAeU/3kXjwni2JtA/s320/hike.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206389922812286050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQDNdmVHI/AAAAAAAAAec/D-erLsgcWSA/s1600-h/pinata.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDQDNdmVHI/AAAAAAAAAec/D-erLsgcWSA/s320/pinata.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206389922812286066" /></a>I love Oregon. Have for a while. Caleb and I have talked about moving there many times before. This trip was no different. I don't know if its ever meant to be, but I loved being there. The green, and the trees, and the openness are all nourishment to my soul. We had to forego the camping experience the second night when rainy weather was predicted.  So we stayed in a hotel instead. That was a disappointment to me but not so much to Caleb. <div><br /></div><div>We finally arrived at our ultimate destination of Vancouver, Washington for the unschooling "Life is Good" conference. It couldn't have been a more kid-friendly, fun, inspiring weekend. There were endless activities for the kids, and lots of good seminars for the adults.  </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUVddmVII/AAAAAAAAAek/OC0j8CEV860/s1600-h/tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUVddmVII/AAAAAAAAAek/OC0j8CEV860/s320/tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206394634391409794" /></a>We called this the mushroom tree. They were all over town. I've never seen anything like it. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUVtdmVJI/AAAAAAAAAes/__K7Oc_cYBY/s1600-h/balloon+swords.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUVtdmVJI/AAAAAAAAAes/__K7Oc_cYBY/s320/balloon+swords.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206394638686377106" /></a>Balloon swords. Charis got really good at tying them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUVtdmVKI/AAAAAAAAAe0/KjCXqz0mMQc/s1600-h/butterfly+face.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUVtdmVKI/AAAAAAAAAe0/KjCXqz0mMQc/s320/butterfly+face.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206394638686377122" /></a>Face painting. I love this girl.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUV9dmVLI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Sla4JfSehaM/s1600-h/caleb%26jonas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUV9dmVLI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Sla4JfSehaM/s320/caleb%26jonas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206394642981344434" /></a>The hotel where the conference was, and where we stayed, was right on the river. So lovely. Please note the pirate ship in the background. It was actually used in the movie Pirates of the Caribbean.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUWNdmVMI/AAAAAAAAAfE/jK9iYFchfHE/s1600-h/cool+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDUWNdmVMI/AAAAAAAAAfE/jK9iYFchfHE/s320/cool+pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206394647276311746" /></a><br />We walked to coffee, farmer's market, dinner. Such a great location. We really got to know the town.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVhtdmVOI/AAAAAAAAAfU/Jr4OF8f80q8/s1600-h/creative+thinking.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVhtdmVOI/AAAAAAAAAfU/Jr4OF8f80q8/s320/creative+thinking.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395944356435170" /></a>One of my favorite seminars was by Scott Noelle. I was very impacted by his encouragement to be more creative and less competitive with your kids. For instance, it doesn't have to be their needs vs. your needs.  There are creative solutions that can allow all people's desires to be met (sometimes). This picture is evidence of Caleb putting this theory to practice. He wanted the kids to take a bath and they wanted to watch The Hobbit. As you see everyone got what they wanted. Im so glad we're doing this parenting thing together. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVhtdmVPI/AAAAAAAAAfc/f6hKVh4lg6E/s1600-h/ddr.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVhtdmVPI/AAAAAAAAAfc/f6hKVh4lg6E/s320/ddr.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395944356435186" /></a>Paxton was a permanent fixture in the game room. He loved playing the board games, and got super good at DDR. He was always the littlest one out there but he held his own. It was shocking and super duper cute.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVh9dmVQI/AAAAAAAAAfk/kxedXmjxKzI/s1600-h/more+ddr.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVh9dmVQI/AAAAAAAAAfk/kxedXmjxKzI/s320/more+ddr.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395948651402498" /></a>Here he is practicing the moves even when he's not on the DDR pad.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVh9dmVRI/AAAAAAAAAfs/ZEurRaaov1g/s1600-h/drums.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDVh9dmVRI/AAAAAAAAAfs/ZEurRaaov1g/s320/drums.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395948651402514" /></a>Jonas was into the drum circle time.<br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_NdmVSI/AAAAAAAAAf0/QIwIMMGshhc/s320/flyingcharis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206399749697459490" />This pic displays fairy wings, mermaid hair and t-shirt surgery all made by Charis at various fun shops. Other fun shops not pictured: acting improv,  paper bag puppets, artist trading cards, beading fun, and cardbord box fort (which took up an entire room). <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_ddmVTI/AAAAAAAAAf8/B1GvTIIl0So/s1600-h/hoolahoop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_ddmVTI/AAAAAAAAAf8/B1GvTIIl0So/s320/hoolahoop.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206399753992426802" /></a>I think my favorite night was the talent show evening. Charis had planned a hoolahoop demonstration. Nothing fancy, just an ability to never drop the thing. Really she's quite impressive. But I got a bit worried when I saw other's acts were more choreographed than hers. I started to get nervous for her - maybe we should have planned more of a routine. But Charis didn't seem phased (even after another hoolahoop routine done by other girls). She got up there totally confident and unaware that she "should" feel nervous. I loved her for it. And her show was fabulous, because it was totally her. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_ddmVUI/AAAAAAAAAgE/EMSeEv7fYc8/s1600-h/karate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_ddmVUI/AAAAAAAAAgE/EMSeEv7fYc8/s320/karate.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206399753992426818" /></a>After she got off the stage, Pax was bawling. He wanted to do a show too. When previously asked, he had said no. But now he desperately wanted to do karate. He has never taken any karate classes, and knows zero real moves. I was able to slip his name in and after a long wait he was called up. I really thought he would change his mind before being called, and then thought he would chicken out once the stage loomed in front of him. But he stood up there so cute, and threw out a few punches and kicks, and then left the stage. I was so  proud of him. It couldn't have been better if he'd been a black belt. He totally proved me wrong, and I loved him for it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_tdmVVI/AAAAAAAAAgM/EszwMJgS3bc/s1600-h/car+ride.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_tdmVVI/AAAAAAAAAgM/EszwMJgS3bc/s320/car+ride.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206399758287394130" /></a>Here they are in the car. On the long journey back from Washington. Lots of movies were watched. The Hobbit was viewed at least 8 times (for real).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_9dmVWI/AAAAAAAAAgU/k2dahTmfoT4/s1600-h/hagen+pyramid.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDY_9dmVWI/AAAAAAAAAgU/k2dahTmfoT4/s320/hagen+pyramid.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206399762582361442" /></a>Hagen cousins pyramid. We spent one more night and part of a day in the Bay Area. Again, very very fun. <br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/SEDeE9dmVXI/AAAAAAAAAgc/uNtYc8hvXF0/s320/fall+down.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206405346039846258" /><br />The end of the pyramid and the end of this very long post.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7502428284669950192?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-91012952433738638432008-04-04T18:23:00.000-07:002008-04-04T19:06:52.393-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_baM_g7gtI/AAAAAAAAAdI/TLc31835bHg/s1600-h/3+kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_baM_g7gtI/AAAAAAAAAdI/TLc31835bHg/s320/3+kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185571937706541778" /></a><br />I'm having a strong aversion to extended amounts of time on the computer these days. And blogging tends to take said "extended amounts of time". Hence, the lapse. Caleb said this is how it starts. The giving up on the blog thing. You just don't feel like doing it for a long time, and eventually you are done. So, maybe I am done. Apparently not tonight, since here I am typing away. And I plan to post a few pictures too. But as I sit here Jonas is pulling at my arm and wanting my help. (Halfway through that sentence I got up to help him for a few moments. Sometimes it's a few hours - and this is my point - blogging is not very practical for me right now.) But Caleb - the <a href="http://www.endir.org/HagenLove/page3/page3.html">blog abandoner</a>- is back to it. He has a rad <a href="http://radbooks.net/">new site</a> where he is doing book reviews. And Charis wants to keep hers up, so I think I'll be content with those 2 Hagen blogs for now. <div>But I can't NOT blog about my incredible visit with one of my favorite people, Kari Roller. The week was perfect. A much needed time of adventure, good talks and nature loving. We also got to hang out with some old and loved friends from Valencia. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYKfg7goI/AAAAAAAAAcg/pQDq5dwBQWU/s1600-h/IMG_3803.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYKfg7goI/AAAAAAAAAcg/pQDq5dwBQWU/s320/IMG_3803.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185569695733613186" /></a><br />And how do I not show you the picture of the grapefruit we picked that was the size of my head?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYK_g7grI/AAAAAAAAAc4/QMBNjcO4wWQ/s1600-h/IMG_3820.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYK_g7grI/AAAAAAAAAc4/QMBNjcO4wWQ/s320/IMG_3820.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185569704323547826" /></a><br />Also, Charis turned 7 (she'll be posting pictures soon), and we made homemade chocolate<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYKvg7gqI/AAAAAAAAAcw/VBA_A_ldnjw/s1600-h/IMG_3712.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYKvg7gqI/AAAAAAAAAcw/VBA_A_ldnjw/s320/IMG_3712.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185569700028580514" /></a><br />and celebrated earth day. What else?...Caleb shaved his beard, homeschooling is NOT illegal, Charis and I are enjoying a mother daughter book club, and we are loving our new unschooling friends the Canhams, and still doing gymnastics. </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYKvg7gpI/AAAAAAAAAco/5LA7tTaakG8/s1600-h/IMG_3809.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYKvg7gpI/AAAAAAAAAco/5LA7tTaakG8/s320/IMG_3809.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185569700028580498" /></a>We've spent a lot of time painting recently (in pajamas, of course). And it's been SO beautiful outside, that I just can't make the time to sit in front of a screen for hours. Im attempting my first vegetable garden. Oh, and big news - we got a new couch. Only a big deal because I have loved my lime green couch, and it feels like abandoning a member of the family. So, we put it in the play room, and put the new couch in the living room. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYK_g7gsI/AAAAAAAAAdA/A5KlOpr459U/s1600-h/IMG_3839.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R_bYK_g7gsI/AAAAAAAAAdA/A5KlOpr459U/s320/IMG_3839.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185569704323547842" /></a><div>Fallbrook is beautiful and allergy invoking (for Caleb).  Im glad we'll be here until November, and after that...who knows? Well, I suppose God knows, and that is where I put my trust.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-9101295243373863843?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-58159359890165563762008-03-09T11:31:00.000-07:002008-03-09T14:04:30.366-07:00This is what Paxton called it - baptimatized - he says it like John Travolta in Grease when he sings, "It's e-lectrifyin'!" We cracked up.<div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9RGWReyCPI/AAAAAAAAAcA/izQAdXWQCKU/s1600-h/IMG_1031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9RGWReyCPI/AAAAAAAAAcA/izQAdXWQCKU/s320/IMG_1031.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175839220219119858" /></a>Last Sunday was a really special day for us. In church Charis asked if she could take communion. She has asked this before, and we always explained that its for a person who believes Jesus and has given Him their life, and its a big decision. We didn't want her doing it just to have a snack, or because we do it. But she has repeatedly asked so many good questions about what Caleb and I believe, and about life, death, and God. She has claimed to love and follow Jesus for some time now. But again, we  assumed this is because she hears us talking about what we believe. </div><div>Last week her and I had a really good conversation about being a follower of Jesus. And I felt she "got it" (best she can at 6 years old). So when she asked to join us in communion, Caleb felt that we shouldn't hold her back from expressing what she believes. She was really cute - looking over at us - excited.</div><div>Communion isn't some big ceremony at our church. But she was excited none the less. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9Q7QBeyCLI/AAAAAAAAAbg/cyLOhIvPckk/s1600-h/IMG_1029.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9Q7QBeyCLI/AAAAAAAAAbg/cyLOhIvPckk/s320/IMG_1029.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175827018217031858" /></a><div>Caleb feels that when a person believes in Jesus, one of the first things she should do is be baptized. So, we asked her if she wanted to be baptized and demonstrate physically what had happened spiritually. She wanted to (she'd wanted to for a while), so we called our families and invited them to my brother's jacuzzi for the baptism. Several of them could come (so last minute) and we had a really fun day celebrating Charis' faith and enjoying each other. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9RG3BeyCSI/AAAAAAAAAcY/W20vs0fw2k4/s1600-h/karen+hug.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9RG3BeyCSI/AAAAAAAAAcY/W20vs0fw2k4/s320/karen+hug.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175839782859835682" /></a><div>I have my fears - that she is only believing because we do. That she will have false assurance of salvation. That she will feel she has to be good to make God happy, rather than just be humble and believe. That she will tend toward legalism. That she will not experience sweet communion with God. But I don't have control over these things.  She is her own person before God. And He is good. And I trust Him with her.  </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9RGnReyCRI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/mtzFGDYsALg/s1600-h/IMG_1033_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R9RGnReyCRI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/mtzFGDYsALg/s320/IMG_1033_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175839512276896018" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-5815935989016556376?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-24567826422214651022008-02-28T20:44:00.000-08:002008-02-28T20:52:55.488-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R8eOaVZCxwI/AAAAAAAAAaI/Ow8mXAJqz6o/s1600-h/pax.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R8eOaVZCxwI/AAAAAAAAAaI/Ow8mXAJqz6o/s320/pax.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172259280128231170" /></a>Paxton was telling me a story about something that happened yesterday, today and tomorrow. He was painfully cute as he was talking, and I just wanted to eat his face off. So when he finished I said,  "I love you yesterday, today and tomorrow!" He said, "Yah, but you love me today the most." <div>And that is my life lesson. Be about TODAY. Focus on the moment; be satisfied with what is. Paxton's wisdom helps me.  </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2456782642221465102?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-66747648861365778432008-02-22T14:34:00.001-08:002008-02-22T15:03:42.686-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OYm5fxXI/AAAAAAAAAZU/gwNhcYYMa4A/s1600-h/beach.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OYm5fxXI/AAAAAAAAAZU/gwNhcYYMa4A/s320/beach.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169937081910150514" /></a><br />Cousin Elijah. The name which evokes so many emotions. This kid is awesome. He is four. And we wish we lived closer to him (and his <a href="http://www.hagenhoopla.blogspot.com/">parents</a>). Sister Lydia is a favorite too. Jonas likes to say her name, and I like to hear it. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OY25fxYI/AAAAAAAAAZc/il9d4yoRn_A/s1600-h/pennypickles.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OY25fxYI/AAAAAAAAAZc/il9d4yoRn_A/s320/pennypickles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169937086205117826" /></a><br />New friends! We now have a few friends who actually live within 10 minutes of us. (Although we're not abandoning our southernly-dwelling friends.) This picture is taken at <a href="http://www.pennypickles.org/">Professor Pennypickle's</a> house in Temecula. It is the BEST kid's "museum" I've ever been to. We are definitely going back soon.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OZG5fxZI/AAAAAAAAAZk/YnbKqfMvqoQ/s1600-h/theclaw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OZG5fxZI/AAAAAAAAAZk/YnbKqfMvqoQ/s320/theclaw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169937090500085138" /></a><br />This finely-crafted toy, "the claw", ($2 dollars, made in China, from the grocery store) has been an amazing teaching lesson for my kids. I have been trying to teach them about <a href="http://www.storyofstuff.com/">too much stuff</a> and how to be kind to the environment. Well, after this toy broke within 10 minutes of purchase, and then the replacement only lasted one day, my kids were convinced. It's SO cool! They don't want cheep junk, and they're getting the sad reality of cheep labor and deforestation. They now ask me which toys are made in China, and if they are good for the environment. I'm really hoping it lasts. We recently ordered them some <a href="http://store.gxonlinestore.org/">fair-trade toys.</a> And plan to do so whenever possible. We're teaching ourselves this lesson as we teach them. I'm all cool with this until I realize it means no more $8 Target shirts for me. I want to buy less, and buy local or fair- trade when I do buy.  <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OZW5fxaI/AAAAAAAAAZs/jSM8J9c6_OI/s1600-h/babygun.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OZW5fxaI/AAAAAAAAAZs/jSM8J9c6_OI/s320/babygun.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169937094795052450" /></a><br />And while we're teaching our kids to take care of the environment, why not teach them to shoot guns too? Especially our 2 year old.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OjW5fxcI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/0h6Z-DdIW9g/s1600-h/mommashot.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R79OjW5fxcI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/0h6Z-DdIW9g/s320/mommashot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169937266593744322" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6674764886136577843?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-33646784726613469392008-02-13T20:21:00.000-08:002008-02-13T20:33:50.438-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R7PB9m5fxWI/AAAAAAAAAZM/DZIO0l1K6jg/s1600-h/chh.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R7PB9m5fxWI/AAAAAAAAAZM/DZIO0l1K6jg/s320/chh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166686461681976674" /></a><br /><br />My hilarious and spritey daughter has started her own blog. Yes, its true. She wanted to; so now there are three Hagen blogs. Why not? She has 2 posts on there so far, and seems like she'll be keeping it up. Much thanks to <a href="http://peanutbutterandcigarettes.blogspot.com/">Amber</a> for leaving the first comment. She was thrilled! If you know Charis, you will not be disappointed with the authenticity of this blog. Get ready to laugh.<br /><br />You can find her at <a href="http://charisasparagairus.blogspot.com">Charis Asparagairus</a>.<br /><a href="http://dhpz.blogspot.com/">Hallie</a> was the first one to call her this, and it stuck. Its hard to read but is the word asparagus with the word Charis (kinda) thrown in there. It rhymes (kinda).<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3364678472661346939?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-37984369742500576332008-02-06T21:05:00.000-08:002008-02-06T22:09:52.793-08:00We were supposed to meet friends at a class Tuesday @ 11. Everyone was in the car ready to go except Charis. The back seat of the van was pushed down and she couldn't get it up. I tried to help her, but after pulling and pushing every leaver I could find, I decided to call my friend and tell her we wouldn't make the class. But my cell phone said the SIM card wasn't in it. But it was in. So I couldn't call her or Caleb (to help me with both problems). Then as I was trying to get the seat up again Paxton said, "Mom there are 2 men walking up." I turned around to meet an attorney working for my neighbors. He wanted to get the low-down on someone up the street. The bottom line is it freaked me out, and the lack of cell phone use and seat problem didn't help. So I emailed Caleb and asked him to call our home phone ASAP. For some reason he didn't find my situation quite as distressing as I did. But he did help me fix the SIM card problem and told me how to get the seat up (oh, that lever).<br /><br />Since we missed the class we decided to go on an adventure. You see, I used to be fairly adventurous. In fact, I love wandering around finding new and undisturbed places. But having 3 kids has really put a halt on this hobby, and I have mourned the fact before. But the old Kate is back (that's what I told Caleb).<br /><br />Since it was lunch time, we did something Pax had been asking for for a while (that I really haven't wanted to do). We got hot dogs at Circle K. It only took forever to pick them out, get ketchup on them, etc. Once we got to the cash register, the lady said someone who had been in there earlier wanted to pay for our hot dogs. He thought we were cute and left money for us! How awesome is that?! So I saved $4. It was a really cool thing, and my kids are still talking about it. <br /><br />After our healthy lunch, we drove over to Rainbow, the next town up from us. Just the name makes me happy and the old weird signs bring even more joy. Rainbow did not disappoint. It is a tiny town full of nurseries and dirt roads. We had already driven around the nurseries earlier, and this time stopped at the town store. We got water and sat at some picnic tables to drink. It was such a beautiful day and I felt so happy to be there, so I decided we should make up a best friend secret hand shake. My kids were so into that. It was cute.<br /><br />Then we explored the amazing antique store there. It really was one of the coolest antique stores I'd ever seen. There were treasures everywhere. It is entirely outdoors with this labyrinth lay out. After spending a long time looking around, we decided to walk down to the creek. <div><br /></div><div>We threw acorns in the water for a while, and Charis climbed this tree that hung over the water (until I got too freaked out). Then we found a spot where we could get closer, and as I was trying to help Jo down there I heard Charis yelp. Then she started running down stream. I realized she has lost one of her (new) pink Crocs down the creek. It was steadily moving further and further away from us. She was so cute trying to stick branches in the water to reach it. I couldn't really help her because I was holding Jonas. She starting crying. It was really picking up speed, and if you looked way down stream you could see the creek went under the road and into ??? (maybe the sewer). We tried running ahead, but it was so far off now that is seemed hopeless. But it finally got stuck in a tree root on the far side of the creek. In an attempt to calm Charis down, I said we could drive up the road a bit and see if there was way to get down to that side of the creek. If she hadn't been so upset I would have been cracking up at the hilarity of the situation.<br /><br />Now imagine overgrown, wild creek trees and brush and mush. That is what I bush wacked through to get the beloved pink Croc. After traipsing my kids across the road (Charis dramatically hopping on one foot the entire way), we climbed over a small barrier and walked through some crap. I set them on a rock and put Jo in C's lap (which was the scariest part of the day).  I climbed down the boggy slope to the edge of the creek. The shoe was just out of reach, and none of the nearby branches were sturdy enough. So I submerged one of my tennis shoes into the water and saved the Croc! I held it up announcing it's survival and my kids cheered. It was such a hilarious and surreal day. And I got to be the hero. <div><br /></div><div>The end (did anyone actually read all of this?)<br /><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3798436974250057633?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-20837401816226064612008-02-02T19:34:00.000-08:002008-02-02T19:48:30.374-08:00I haven't been in the mood to blog. Not sure why. But I have so many cute pictures I want to share. So...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U222kkSQI/AAAAAAAAAXk/jDUh6SObebI/s1600-h/gils+on+horses.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U222kkSQI/AAAAAAAAAXk/jDUh6SObebI/s320/gils+on+horses.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162592863839865090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U23WkkSRI/AAAAAAAAAXs/_YQHqSRPFsw/s1600-h/bunny+sharing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U23WkkSRI/AAAAAAAAAXs/_YQHqSRPFsw/s320/bunny+sharing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162592872429799698" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U23WkkSSI/AAAAAAAAAX0/OvqTwQcVm9s/s1600-h/horse+kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U23WkkSSI/AAAAAAAAAX0/OvqTwQcVm9s/s320/horse+kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162592872429799714" /></a><br />Charis' first horse riding experience was a huge success. She went with a <a href="http://www.sumbthucker.blogspot.com/">special friend</a>, and the little ones got to join in the petting "zoo" fun afterwards.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U232kkSTI/AAAAAAAAAX8/t_nx5uPaGdY/s1600-h/jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U232kkSTI/AAAAAAAAAX8/t_nx5uPaGdY/s320/jo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162592881019734322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U232kkSUI/AAAAAAAAAYE/5in6CHo81VE/s1600-h/skates.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U232kkSUI/AAAAAAAAAYE/5in6CHo81VE/s320/skates.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162592881019734338" /></a><br />Jonas is seriously strong.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3qWkkSVI/AAAAAAAAAYM/EdUTyO9JRTk/s1600-h/moms.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3qWkkSVI/AAAAAAAAAYM/EdUTyO9JRTk/s320/moms.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162593748603128146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3qmkkSWI/AAAAAAAAAYU/pojfucWbQPg/s1600-h/posed+kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3qmkkSWI/AAAAAAAAAYU/pojfucWbQPg/s320/posed+kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162593752898095458" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3qmkkSXI/AAAAAAAAAYc/TOuhnoo2L6s/s1600-h/b%26w.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3qmkkSXI/AAAAAAAAAYc/TOuhnoo2L6s/s320/b%26w.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162593752898095474" /></a><br />We had another unschooling international night. Mexican food was on the menu this month. It was a really fun night for the kids and parents. I'll end with my favorite picture from the night... <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3q2kkSYI/AAAAAAAAAYk/OncNAnEneyA/s1600-h/boas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R6U3q2kkSYI/AAAAAAAAAYk/OncNAnEneyA/s320/boas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162593757193062786" /></a><br />After being tied together in feather boas, K and I were told we were "now more beautiful!" I'd have to agree with Ella.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2083740181622606461?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-1309787134408975652008-01-13T23:03:00.000-08:002008-01-13T23:29:07.840-08:00Charis and I had a "girl day" yesterday. First of all we got dressed up. Now, for <span style="font-style:italic;">me</span> that means jeans and a nice shirt, for C that means a velvet dress and a tiara. I love my girl, but seriously, how did that happen? We went to see "Enchanted" at the movie theatre. As we were walking up C said, "I love going to the theatre!" As she handed the ticket kid her ticket she giggled and squeaked as he ripped it in two. He laughed and said, looking at her tiara, "going to see Enchanted?" I laughed nervously.<br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sN4KN83iI/AAAAAAAAAXc/t1CZ2W2xmQs/s320/enchanted.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155229456922369570" /><br /><br />She loved the movie and only had to be told to whisper about 30 times. It is the most ridiculous, adorable, girly movie you could imagine. Perfect for Charis. I was pleasantly surprised actually and enjoyed it a lot. After the film, she decided to spend her chore money on a golden princess dress at the Disney store. And has worn it since, except while eating and playing outside, so she won't mess it up (her decision). After that, we got sushi (at Trader Joes) and ate it at a little table outside. She frequently proclaimed that it was such a fun day. And indeed it was. For me too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sNcqN83gI/AAAAAAAAAXM/i2NJkatiJKM/s1600-h/yellow.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sNcqN83gI/AAAAAAAAAXM/i2NJkatiJKM/s320/yellow.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155228984475966978" /></a><br /><br />Today Caleb was the award-winning dad when he came home from the hardware store (the only one in town) with a swing! Its banana yellow. And is fabulous.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sJfKN83eI/AAAAAAAAAW8/FAGZZ9QomfQ/s1600-h/swing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sJfKN83eI/AAAAAAAAAW8/FAGZZ9QomfQ/s320/swing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155224629379128802" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sNcqN83hI/AAAAAAAAAXU/LLFWRkSi4RY/s1600-h/grumpyswing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sNcqN83hI/AAAAAAAAAXU/LLFWRkSi4RY/s320/grumpyswing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155228984475966994" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-130978713440897565?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-15319013270832416642008-01-13T22:55:00.000-08:002008-01-13T23:05:26.702-08:00than never. That's what she said anyway. So, Im posting my favorite pictures from the Christmas season. Not necessarily the best, just my favs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH6qN83XI/AAAAAAAAAWE/5k5JO7YpxK4/s1600-h/brothas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH6qN83XI/AAAAAAAAAWE/5k5JO7YpxK4/s320/brothas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155222902802275698" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH6qN83YI/AAAAAAAAAWM/inmWHeSaDSk/s1600-h/c+and+E.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH6qN83YI/AAAAAAAAAWM/inmWHeSaDSk/s320/c+and+E.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155222902802275714" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH66N83ZI/AAAAAAAAAWU/uYeaUMB9rCM/s1600-h/family+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH66N83ZI/AAAAAAAAAWU/uYeaUMB9rCM/s320/family+pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155222907097243026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH66N83aI/AAAAAAAAAWc/niHlgn2ciHk/s1600-h/gpa+dan.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH66N83aI/AAAAAAAAAWc/niHlgn2ciHk/s320/gpa+dan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155222907097243042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH66N83bI/AAAAAAAAAWk/6lo8Jpf3wNU/s1600-h/guitar.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sH66N83bI/AAAAAAAAAWk/6lo8Jpf3wNU/s320/guitar.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155222907097243058" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sJl6N83fI/AAAAAAAAAXE/t3TTgO9YxO4/s1600-h/mini+p.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sJl6N83fI/AAAAAAAAAXE/t3TTgO9YxO4/s320/mini+p.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155224745343245810" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sIaaN83cI/AAAAAAAAAWs/WvM62_7_zwo/s1600-h/pax.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4sIaaN83cI/AAAAAAAAAWs/WvM62_7_zwo/s320/pax.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155223448263122370" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-1531901327083241664?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-31856419471886924612008-01-06T14:41:00.000-08:002008-01-06T15:32:10.962-08:00Yesterday my kids went ice skating. On the way there Charis said, "This is going to be the best day of my life!" I don't know if it quite lived up to that expectation but they had a great time. And apparently did very well, or so I was told. I think more ice skating trips will be made in the future. <br /><br />Caleb and I were supposed to be at a wedding in Mexico, but due to the crazy rain we went to coffee instead. Caleb and I are learning how to disagree with each other. We usually agree. And traditionally I have consented to his opinion (he's quite convincing, and well thought through) or he has sacrificed his desire for my own. But of late, I tend to be more opinionated. This is mostly a good thing, but we kinda become immobilized by it. Caleb really likes to honor my opinion, and pretty much never does something that I don't want him/us to do. But when I think we should do one thing (like go to Mexico despite the rain) and he thinks another thing (like stay in America and not die) we really struggle to communicate through it. In the past we would have talked about it until we agreed. But I didn't agree with him. Nor him with me. But a decision had to be made. I had no problem with us following his opinion, but I still didn't agree with it. That was the hard part for Caleb. He wanted us to agree. It's weird to have a new struggle after 11 years of being together (8 years of marriage). We resolved it eventually. We didn't go, and I forgave him for being grumpy about it. And I (so humbly) told him I should probably ask for forgiveness, but I didn't feel like I did anything wrong. So he said he kinda forgave me. Then we went to a fun family birthday party at Bucca di Beppos and ate yummy Chicken Parmesan (the only place I've ever liked that dish).<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4FczqN83WI/AAAAAAAAAV8/Ojtz-8ZKwWs/s1600-h/me%26boys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R4FczqN83WI/AAAAAAAAAV8/Ojtz-8ZKwWs/s320/me%26boys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152501491264445794" /></a><br /><br />And I cut my bangs. And I think my boys are really cute.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3185641947188692461?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-26888167213625158032007-12-23T16:24:00.000-08:002007-12-24T09:15:40.957-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28Db6N83SI/AAAAAAAAAVc/yNZqp4EKymI/s1600-h/gingers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28Db6N83SI/AAAAAAAAAVc/yNZqp4EKymI/s320/gingers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147336677126888738" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28DbqN83RI/AAAAAAAAAVU/ZCGnXwx_lLQ/s1600-h/choral.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28DbqN83RI/AAAAAAAAAVU/ZCGnXwx_lLQ/s320/choral.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147336672831921426" /></a><br /><br />This Christmas season has so far included: decorating our silver tree, making a gingerbread house (which got attacked by ants), wrapping presents (Charis wanted to help for about 2 minutes), watching Charis perform in 3 Christmas concerts, teaching Charis to knit, playing lots of Lego Starwars on the Wii, decorating Xmas cookies with friends (and eating raw gingerbread cookies-yum!), admiring the huge lego Christmas tree with those same friends, getting unexpected (and much needed) checks in the mail (that still happens?!), lots of reading by the fire (thanks to whomever anonymously sent us firewood) and watching Jonas climb out of his bed and sneak into the living room (over and over again). I feel really aware of God's mercy this month. I feel Him taking care of us. And I know he's letting us and others be a big part of the process, but I also know He is the orchestrator of it all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28DcKN83TI/AAAAAAAAAVk/IN43Mwjnh8k/s1600-h/roasting+.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28DcKN83TI/AAAAAAAAAVk/IN43Mwjnh8k/s320/roasting+.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147336681421856050" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28EhqN83VI/AAAAAAAAAV0/_7uNAQZZvu4/s1600-h/legoland.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28EhqN83VI/AAAAAAAAAV0/_7uNAQZZvu4/s320/legoland.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147337875422764370" /></a><br /><br />I re-read all the accounts of Jesus' birth this week (in my favorite version of the Bible T<span style="font-style:italic;">he Message</span>). And something struck me as cool, that never has before. It's the part where the wise men have been following the star (Star Appreciation Society anyone?) and they loose sight of it, only to see it again right over Jesus' house. It says...<br /><br />Then the star appeared again, the same star they had seen in the eastern skies. It led them on until it hovered over the place of the child. They could hardly contain themselves: They were in the right place! They had arrived at the right time! (Matthew 2)<br /><br />How cool is that! I never really thought about how relieved they must have been to finally be in the right place. I like the assurance of it...the right place and the right time. I feel like I am in the right place at the right time. Led by God. I think this is always true. We are always right where we are supposed to be at that moment. And God uses those places to teach us and change us. I want that phrase to run through my head when I am doubtful. "This is the right place and the right time!"<br /><br />I do believe Jesus came at the right place and time. I believe that His birth and eventual death is what allows me access to God. These words that I have heard so many times, and are often stale, are also what give me hope and assurance and joy.<br /><br />happy christmas.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28DcKN83UI/AAAAAAAAAVs/6b3PxHw389M/s1600-h/church.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R28DcKN83UI/AAAAAAAAAVs/6b3PxHw389M/s320/church.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147336681421856066" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2688816721362515803?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-3749942705744375372007-12-16T15:46:00.000-08:002007-12-16T22:29:01.574-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R2XNFKN83PI/AAAAAAAAAVE/xNGVMEXJ3l8/s1600-h/cloud.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R2XNFKN83PI/AAAAAAAAAVE/xNGVMEXJ3l8/s320/cloud.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144743637866568946" /></a><br />My beloved friend Kari gave me an amazing birthday gift recently. I recieved a large package in the mail full of beautifully wrapped packages. Each gift had a note attached explaining what part of my life it was for. Some of the highlights included a book for me (<span style="font-style:italic;">Eat, Pray Love</span>. I <span style="font-style:italic;">really</span> liked it.), a book for my kids, a cute nighty from Anthropologie, and the book of Phillipians hand written to me as a letter (such an enlightening way to read that!). But the highlight for me (if I had to pick one) was a framed piece of paper indicating that I am now a member of the Cloud Appreciation Society. I found <a href="http://www.cloudappreciationsociety.org">the site</a> and sent it to her some time ago and had since forgotten about it. Thankfully she did not.<br /><br />My duty as a member is to "seek to persuade all who'll listen of the wonder and beauty of clouds". This will be no problem for me, seeing as it comes quite naturally. I absolutely love that this society exists and that Kari signed me up for it. I love that she knows I would love this. And I do appreciate, dare I say love (again), clouds.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R2YWE6N83QI/AAAAAAAAAVM/TI5VofWS8pA/s1600-h/csunset.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R2YWE6N83QI/AAAAAAAAAVM/TI5VofWS8pA/s320/csunset.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144823897920429314" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-374994270574437537?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-83650295237036919612007-12-09T19:21:00.000-08:002007-12-16T22:14:31.853-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R19TRVBkmrI/AAAAAAAAAUs/6f0PLEFTNgI/s1600-h/kat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R19TRVBkmrI/AAAAAAAAAUs/6f0PLEFTNgI/s320/kat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142920856647015090" /></a><br />Kat and Bas. ahhhh. A weekend with the old roommates. Paxton absolutely loves Bas. The thing with Paxton is he's less friendly and social than Charis, and more of a home-body. So I've always thought of Charis as being more of a "people person". But Pax is the real people lover. Although he'd rather stay home, he wants to be home cuddling and kissing. Whereas Charis is planning the next outing whenever we're home. So back to Kat and Bas. Paxton wanted to be near and on Bas all weekend. He's only like this with people he feels comfortable with. And I guess old roommates fit the profile. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R19TSFBkmsI/AAAAAAAAAU0/DqhmXiz_j_E/s1600-h/matyce.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R19TSFBkmsI/AAAAAAAAAU0/DqhmXiz_j_E/s320/matyce.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142920869531916994" /></a><br /></div><div>Other than Pax and Bas hugging, we also played cards with K &amp; B. That brought out this funny contrast of personalities. K &amp; B are quite competitive, and me and Caleb are, well, not in the least. But it was fun all the same. I used to think I wasn't competitive because I'm not very good at sports. I thought it was some sort of defense mechanism. Like since Im not very good at "games" I don't enjoy them and am therefore not competitive. But I was "king" like 4 times during our card game, and I never digressed all the way to "skum". Yet, I was mostly ambivalent. Admittedly, I would have enjoyed the game less is I had lost the entire time, but I never felt angry or exuberant. K &amp; B felt and expressed both. Having such strong feelings about a card game is baffling to me, but being so relaxed about life is boring to them. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R19TSlBkmtI/AAAAAAAAAU8/m0tidKzbNwg/s1600-h/posed+boys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R19TSlBkmtI/AAAAAAAAAU8/m0tidKzbNwg/s320/posed+boys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142920878121851602" /></a><br /></div><div> </div><div>"The billys"....this is what Jonas calls his toes. Why? I have no clue. But I love it, and constantly ask him to say it. Also, he has an affection for the letter "w". He can pick it out of a line-up and searches for it on the fridge. I also love that.</div><div> </div><div> <br /></div><div>And I have begun the 5th Harry Potter book. I've only read part of chapter one, and Im already itching for the kids to go to bed so I can read more. Im no longer ashamed. I proudly read. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8365029523703691961?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-40648357193573616292007-11-28T19:05:00.000-08:002007-12-16T22:14:56.502-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R04tVAO-N6I/AAAAAAAAAUc/XtNaAflLj0w/s1600-h/soup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R04tVAO-N6I/AAAAAAAAAUc/XtNaAflLj0w/s320/soup.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138094063739615138" /></a><br />Nobody, is the answer. So after a short break from eating raw, I'm back to it. The other night I made a delicious <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Pineapple- Cucumber Gazpacho</span>. It's more of a summer food, but I enjoyed eating it with my slippers on in front of the fire. My friend Ginger gave me a great raw recipe book, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Raw Food Real World</span>, and this one's from that...<div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4 cups chopped peeled cucmber</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4 cups chopped pineapple</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 cup fresh pineapple juice (I didn't do this)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 small jalapeno pepper, seeded and diced</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 green onion, white and 1 inch of green, chopped</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 Tablespoon lime juice (I used lemon)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 handful cilantro leaves, plus a few for garnish</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">3 Tablespoons avocado, macadamia or olive oil (I used olive)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 handful finely shopped raw macadamia nuts (I used almonds)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In a blender, add 3 cups each of the cucumber and pineapple, the pineapple juice, jalapeno, green onion, lime juice, and salt. Blend until smooth. Add the remaining 1 cup pineapple and 1 cup cucumber, the handful of cilantro, and 1 1/2 tablespoons of the oil. Pulse the blender quickly a few times - it should remain chunky. Taste for seasoning. Can chill or serve immediately.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Before serving, add the nuts to the gazpacho and stir to distribute evenly. Drizzle with remaining oil. Garnish with cilantro.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4064835719357361629?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-29969605968057107312007-11-21T23:27:00.000-08:002007-11-21T23:41:04.197-08:00My (not so little anymore) sister lives in the (not so) beautiful town of Houston. It was wonderful to see her face. We stayed two weekends with her. It was nice to spend some time with her boyfriend's family, and see where she works. We stayed up late one night talking. It's been a while since we've done that. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0UxXw2uVhI/AAAAAAAAAUM/veuALEmMj2M/s1600-h/PA270008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0UxXw2uVhI/AAAAAAAAAUM/veuALEmMj2M/s320/PA270008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135565234407101970" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0UxYA2uViI/AAAAAAAAAUU/BLWEDQRlVf8/s1600-h/PA270019.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0UxYA2uViI/AAAAAAAAAUU/BLWEDQRlVf8/s320/PA270019.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135565238702069282" /></a><br /><br />April and Charis have a special relationship. It's endearing how much Charis loves Aunt April. I think it's the big earings, high heals, impromptu dance shows, and clarinet skills that win her over (who wouldn't be?). Oh, and there's the hair rollers. Thank you April for this...<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0Uwug2uVgI/AAAAAAAAAUE/QlKdsUCAc6g/s1600-h/PB110139.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0Uwug2uVgI/AAAAAAAAAUE/QlKdsUCAc6g/s320/PB110139.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135564525737498114" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2996960596805710731?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-53120286556880082402007-11-20T22:17:00.000-08:002007-11-21T23:18:47.894-08:00Alabama? Caleb said it was time for us to come home when Charis announced she wanted to move to Alabama after we live in Fallbrook. Needless to say, we had an amazing time. The kids played hard and long everyday. And it was almost a week's break for me. My cousins are 12,13,15,16, and 18. The oldest was at college, but the other 4 loved on and tired out my kids everyday. Their house is on 5 acres of land which has a creek and small forest in the back yard. Not to mention a tree house, trampoline, 4 wheeler, basketball hoop, toys, games, etc. But the thing that made my kids love Alabama so much was the play time with the cousins. <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSQ2uVUI/AAAAAAAAASk/UJRVescjfOA/s1600-h/IMG_3258.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRTA2uVYI/AAAAAAAAATE/Dg7hx55Tek0/s320/IMG_3258.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135178124709746050" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSQ2uVUI/AAAAAAAAASk/UJRVescjfOA/s1600-h/IMG_3080.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSQ2uVUI/AAAAAAAAASk/UJRVescjfOA/s320/IMG_3080.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135178111824844098" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSg2uVVI/AAAAAAAAASs/941DJt3yWH0/s1600-h/IMG_3096.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSg2uVVI/AAAAAAAAASs/941DJt3yWH0/s320/IMG_3096.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135178116119811410" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSw2uVWI/AAAAAAAAAS0/o2y0QTKVyDA/s1600-h/IMG_3118.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSw2uVWI/AAAAAAAAAS0/o2y0QTKVyDA/s320/IMG_3118.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135178120414778722" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSw2uVXI/AAAAAAAAAS8/L1_7SDHrbHg/s1600-h/IMG_3124.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PRSw2uVXI/AAAAAAAAAS8/L1_7SDHrbHg/s320/IMG_3124.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135178120414778738" /></a><br />A big motivator for going on this trip was to see my precious 94 year old grandma. Its really special to me that my kids got to know and play with their "meemaw". It was fun to watch her pretend to be annoyed at Jonas. And just the smell of her house (corn bread and vegetable soup) and the "sameness" of her life was comforting to me. <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PTWQ2uVZI/AAAAAAAAATM/dp-eReqEoNI/s1600-h/IMG_3077.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PTWQ2uVZI/AAAAAAAAATM/dp-eReqEoNI/s320/IMG_3077.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135180379567576466" /></a><br />Lauren, my 12 year old cousin, had a horrible accident while we were there. We were all at Cheehaw Park climbing rocks and enjoying the spectacular fall colors. Lauren was somewhat out of view climbing up a large rock, when a boy "harmlessly" threw a (big) rock over the side and hit her in the head. This caused her to fall backwards off the rock (a few feet) and also hit the back of her head on the rocks below. We thought for a second she was dead. It still makes my stomach turn to think about it. Her parents rushed her to the hospital where she spent the next 4 days. She recovered beautifully, and we got to spend our last 2 days with her. Since she ended up being okay, it was actually a cool bonding time for all us. There's nothing like a tragedy to bring people together and put immediate perspective on life. I think every church in Alabama was praying for Lauren (and sending us fried chicken). It was pretty awesome to see the support and love of all their church family. <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PY9A2uVdI/AAAAAAAAATs/8gRvcBKpzD4/s1600-h/IMG_3250.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PY9A2uVdI/AAAAAAAAATs/8gRvcBKpzD4/s320/IMG_3250.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135186542845646290" /></a><br />There is so much more I could say about our trip, but this post is way too long already. So, I'll end with 2 of my favorite pictures. The first is of Paxton looking like a true farm boy. If there is one thing he's not, its a farm boy. Despite the forced smile for the camera, he hated the farm visit. Charis on the other hand, ran around like a crazy kid picking up goats and chasing the miniature horses. I love to see the differences in my kids. <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PY9g2uVeI/AAAAAAAAAT0/zs5lDpX9Pi0/s1600-h/IMG_3152.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PY9g2uVeI/AAAAAAAAAT0/zs5lDpX9Pi0/s320/IMG_3152.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135186551435580898" /></a><br />And Jonas. He's 2 now. So tough and fun and loud and kissable. I love this picture of him.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PcZg2uVfI/AAAAAAAAAT8/Z10y4_E2geA/s1600-h/IMG_3298.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PcZg2uVfI/AAAAAAAAAT8/Z10y4_E2geA/s320/IMG_3298.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135190331006801394" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-5312028655688008240?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-79698845662404656432007-11-20T20:27:00.000-08:002007-11-20T22:55:45.841-08:00and I don't want to ride it anymore. At least not with three small kids in a motor home. But seriously, it could have been much worse. <br /><br />We played a lot of "Whosit?" My parents still have the 1975 edition. It is awesome. It was Paxton's favorite game. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKtg2uVPI/AAAAAAAAAR8/g4Zn3j1UpuI/s1600-h/IMG_3028.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKtg2uVPI/AAAAAAAAAR8/g4Zn3j1UpuI/s320/IMG_3028.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135170883394884850" /></a><br /><br />We grew to love and hate gas stations. There was such excitement over getting to stop and buy a (nasty) truck stop treat. The sweet video games and ridiculously expensive toys were a bonus too. And yet the smells and the possible big rig maulings were something we are glad to be done with.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKuA2uVRI/AAAAAAAAASM/8KMSgMC3OVY/s1600-h/IMG_3042.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKuA2uVRI/AAAAAAAAASM/8KMSgMC3OVY/s320/IMG_3042.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135170891984819474" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKuQ2uVSI/AAAAAAAAASU/8LNpMGapLyk/s1600-h/IMG_3043.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKuQ2uVSI/AAAAAAAAASU/8LNpMGapLyk/s320/IMG_3043.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135170896279786786" /></a><br /><br />We fell into a nice routine in the motor home, and I only had occasional moments of "this sucks!" A lot of the places we stopped at were really beautiful, which always excited me. The beauty was mildly interesting to my kids. But one RV park in Texas was so desperately ugly. There was nothing pretty about the place. But it was my kids favorite stop. Why? Because they got to play with 2 fun girls for a few hours. They are still talking about those girls. It was a good reminder for me...people are the most beautiful thing to children, and should be to me as well.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PWKA2uVaI/AAAAAAAAATU/Ae0OX9t826U/s1600-h/IMG_3030.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PWKA2uVaI/AAAAAAAAATU/Ae0OX9t826U/s320/IMG_3030.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135183467649062306" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PWKw2uVbI/AAAAAAAAATc/j3ja6MacbwE/s1600-h/IMG_3293.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PWKw2uVbI/AAAAAAAAATc/j3ja6MacbwE/s320/IMG_3293.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135183480533964210" /></a><br /><br />We talked a lot about America and each state we were in (7 in all). Unschooling was a breeze. Charis can proudly spell m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i all by herself. And Paxton almost has America and California distinguished from each other.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKtw2uVQI/AAAAAAAAASE/utTLUS8hatk/s1600-h/IMG_3029.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/R0PKtw2uVQI/AAAAAAAAASE/utTLUS8hatk/s320/IMG_3029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135170887689852162" /></a><br /><br />Im so glad we did it, although next time it will definitely have to be with Caleb.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7969884566240465643?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-4233815567815187032007-10-17T16:23:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:54:56.468-07:00When Caleb's grandma was alive, she asked Charis (her first great grand child) to call her Buba. Well, Charis liked that name, but wanted to know what to call Buba's husband. Before we could answer she said, "Buba two?" Well, we all laughed and the name stuck.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxacjOWrIEI/AAAAAAAAARs/l_gXJbQSeSo/s1600-h/IMG_2921.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxacjOWrIEI/AAAAAAAAARs/l_gXJbQSeSo/s320/IMG_2921.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122453755143069762" /></a><br /><br />We got to visit Buba 2 at Sunrise Home last week. The kids had a great time. And I think Buba 2 did as well. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rxack-WrIFI/AAAAAAAAAR0/xqQZ6lNcflA/s1600-h/IMG_2918.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rxack-WrIFI/AAAAAAAAAR0/xqQZ6lNcflA/s320/IMG_2918.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122453785207840850" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-423381556781518703?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-68711281610519527972007-10-17T16:17:00.000-07:002007-10-17T16:23:17.719-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYh-WrH_I/AAAAAAAAARE/FDMnxJafWPI/s1600-h/IMG_2824.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYh-WrH_I/AAAAAAAAARE/FDMnxJafWPI/s320/IMG_2824.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122449335621722098" /></a><br /><br />All my fall decorations are in storage, so we made some new one's this year. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYh-WrIAI/AAAAAAAAARM/iRwfSF2101E/s1600-h/IMG_2821.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYh-WrIAI/AAAAAAAAARM/iRwfSF2101E/s320/IMG_2821.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122449335621722114" /></a><br /><br />a ghost of course<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYiOWrIBI/AAAAAAAAARU/VLloSKqWSuI/s1600-h/IMG_2823.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYiOWrIBI/AAAAAAAAARU/VLloSKqWSuI/s320/IMG_2823.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122449339916689426" /></a><br /><br />this is a spider not a cat, caleb.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYiOWrICI/AAAAAAAAARc/I7knnkiIXJw/s1600-h/IMG_2899.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYiOWrICI/AAAAAAAAARc/I7knnkiIXJw/s320/IMG_2899.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122449339916689442" /></a><br /><br />paper pumpkins for the wall. charis made hers a girl. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYieWrIDI/AAAAAAAAARk/8UHAS5Cy-xo/s1600-h/IMG_2851.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RxaYieWrIDI/AAAAAAAAARk/8UHAS5Cy-xo/s320/IMG_2851.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122449344211656754" /></a><br /><br />and this amazing scarecrow my dad bought us. yes, that's right, my dad picked this out and drove it up to us. awesome. paxton is scared of it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6871128161051952797?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-91039359838522498472007-10-11T13:47:00.000-07:002007-10-16T15:30:03.006-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6SSRxR2TI/AAAAAAAAAQk/q8vsxQniWGc/s1600-h/IMG_2878.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6SSRxR2TI/AAAAAAAAAQk/q8vsxQniWGc/s320/IMG_2878.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120190669072226610" /></a><br /><br />A friend was asking me about unschooling yesterday. She wondered how I knew if my kids were learning enough and if they were "on track". I think this is a great question, and one that all us unschoolers get asked all the time. Basically, I know what they're learning because Im with them all the time, and I see and hear what they know. Amazingly they are learning a ton without any required workbooks or "learning time". I don't know if they are exactly on track with their school-going peers. And honestly, I don't care. I know they are ahead in some areas, and possibly "behind" in others. But it is obvious they are growing and learning. The really cool thing is they remember what they learn because they are discovering things they are interested in, on their timing. Isn't that how we all ultimately learn? <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6TIhxR2WI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/qa3gW0CKyFk/s1600-h/run.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6TIhxR2WI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/qa3gW0CKyFk/s320/run.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120191601080129890" /></a><br /><br />Last night we had a perfect example. Most of the day was spent playing with friends and watching a movie. Which could be seen as non-educational (although I believe they learn a lot from both of those activites). But that night we went on a family walk around downtown Encinitas. After a successful trip at a funky thrift shop, we went into a store with kid's toys. Outside they had a chalkboard and chalk. After playing inside for a long time the kids headed outside, and colored with the chalk for about 30 minutes. Charis started by writing 1-20 on the ground and hopping on the numbers. Which helped Paxton learn some of those higher numbers. Then she wrote out "10 plus 10 is 20". Why she wrote that I don't know. I didn't even realize she knew that. And since I haven't taught her formal math, she didn't know the short cuts. So I asked her if she wanted to see the shortcuts for "plus" and "is". So she learned how to write simple equations on the ground of downtown Encinitas at 6:00pm. Paxton kinda copied the equations and Jonas doodled. Caleb and I stood back and marveled.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6TIRxR2VI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/OMuE5v-VkZ4/s1600-h/kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6TIRxR2VI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/OMuE5v-VkZ4/s320/kids.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120191596785162578" /></a><br /><br />Once home we ended up having a discussion about different country's governments. For some reason she wondered which countries have Kings and Queens. That lead to a talk about our government and the president and democracy. I explained how our country is run. So, now she knows about that. And that is how I know they are learning. And why I'm not concerned about them being on track. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6TIBxR2UI/AAAAAAAAAQs/cTu1ESq66Qs/s1600-h/IMG_2880.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rw6TIBxR2UI/AAAAAAAAAQs/cTu1ESq66Qs/s320/IMG_2880.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120191592490195266" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-9103935983852249847?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-41116805933517538532007-10-09T21:16:00.001-07:002007-10-09T21:18:44.446-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbBxR2PI/AAAAAAAAAQE/XB-_ZbPnVNs/s1600-h/caleb%26Jo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbBxR2PI/AAAAAAAAAQE/XB-_ZbPnVNs/s320/caleb%26Jo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119557500698482930" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbRxR2QI/AAAAAAAAAQM/0mgH6I5M71k/s1600-h/classic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbRxR2QI/AAAAAAAAAQM/0mgH6I5M71k/s320/classic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119557504993450242" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbRxR2RI/AAAAAAAAAQU/dCyM8TLFop0/s1600-h/no.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbRxR2RI/AAAAAAAAAQU/dCyM8TLFop0/s320/no.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119557504993450258" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbhxR2SI/AAAAAAAAAQc/c2Lu1quf598/s1600-h/blacknwhiteJo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwxSbhxR2SI/AAAAAAAAAQc/c2Lu1quf598/s320/blacknwhiteJo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119557509288417570" /></a><br />i love him.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4111680593351753853?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-85118222251154263482007-10-07T14:46:00.000-07:002007-10-07T15:24:36.767-07:00yes, I am still eating all raw. I have occasional "cheats" but they are rare. I have said to some of you my joints feel 90% better and the rest of my body feels 100% better. Recently we've had a few cold days (now it's hot again) and during the cold weather my joints we're bothering me more again. But much less than they used to in the cold. So I'd have to say my joints 75% better and the rest of me feels 95% better. Im hoping that more time on raw will continue to heal my body, and that even the cold will have little affect on my joints at some point. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwlbDxxR2OI/AAAAAAAAAP8/_-MpxvtaC3c/s1600-h/IMG_2814.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwlbDxxR2OI/AAAAAAAAAP8/_-MpxvtaC3c/s320/IMG_2814.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118722571941042402" /></a><br /><br />i do like living this way. It's becoming normal, and I don't have to think about every meal before I eat anymore. There are times when the inconvenience of it bothers me, but the benefits completely outweigh the negatives. Due to digestive issues, I eat only fruit until lunchtime, and then no more the rest of the day. I thought this would be really hard, but it's been great. As long as I have a banana first thing, I have plenty of energy. (I always thought I needed some protein in the morning, but I have more energy with the fruit.)<br /><br />I've become much more in-tune with my body, and am realizing I need less food than I used to consume. I never considered myself an emotional eater, but I was/am! It was masked by the fact that I would turn to food when I felt "off". So it seemed like a positive understanding of my food-body relationship. But I was just turning to food to make me feel better, instead of exploring other options. This is still my first response, but I'm learning to try other things first (exercise, water, sleep, talking to a friend,etc.). Im realizing that I usually don't need to eat more when I feel bad. My body is probably still digesting what I ate last, and adding to that process will just make me feel worse. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwlbDhxR2NI/AAAAAAAAAP0/PGEI2BL9sAI/s1600-h/IMG_2815.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwlbDhxR2NI/AAAAAAAAAP0/PGEI2BL9sAI/s320/IMG_2815.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118722567646075090" /></a><br /><br />a typical day's "diet" for me consists of...<br />*banana, orange, apple, figs, avocado, other fruits until noon. warm tea.<br />*loaded salad with spinach, cucumber, broccoli, sunflower seeds, sprouts, peppers, other veggies for lunch.<br />*soaked almonds or raw crackers with green olive spread, or veg juice, or raw granola, or coconut smoothie for snack<br />*nori rolls (like eating sushi w/o the fish), or raw soup, or raw "spaghetti" for dinner<br />*carob coconut balls, raw ice cream for dessert (raw desserts are great, and guilt free)<br /><br />this is just off the top of my head. There is more. I'm still learning, and there are some things I can't make until I have a dehydrator. If you're interested in some great and fairly simple recipes check out the book Rawvolution by Matt Amsden.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8511822225115426348?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-20039162447565487522007-09-30T20:43:00.000-07:002007-09-30T21:03:32.888-07:00We just finished off a week of eating everything homemade. No packaged food for the Hagens. It's something I've always wanted to do, but it always seemed too extreme. A whole week! But Pax has been having some tummy issues, and Caleb thought it would be fun to try. So we all went grocery shopping together at the beginning of the week and loaded up on fruits and veggies, oatmeal, flour, etc. We skipped the cereal, packaged cookies, chips, crackers, and even all dairy. <br /><br />Over the week we made breakfast bars, muffins, bread, crackers, and lots of breakfasts and dinners. I knew it I would spend a lot of time in the kitchen this week. And I did. But we all really enjoyed it. The kids never complained about not having packaged food. If they wanted a dessert I said, o.k., let's make one. I asked them today what they thought of the week of homemade food. They both agreed it was good. Charis' only complaint was the cakes weren't very good. (Turns out whole wheat cake isn't so tasty.) <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwBvXCLLVPI/AAAAAAAAAPk/XUGELEb0h98/s1600-h/homemade+food.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwBvXCLLVPI/AAAAAAAAAPk/XUGELEb0h98/s320/homemade+food.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116211618204308722" /></a><br /><br />I really like making breakfast for them instead of eating cereal in the morning. And I found a really good bread machine recipe. So I think we'll keep those things up. Admittedly, most snacks are better to just buy. The crackers we made weren't very good and didn't make very much. And the breakfast bars were just okay. Cliff bars, packaged crackers and chips are probably best store-bought. Sadly I couldn't eat much of what we made this week. This wasn't too bad except for the fresh baked bread. How do you resist that smell? I didn't completely resist. <br /><br />Charis also did an art project with all homemade "paint brushes". She used cotton balls on straws, twigs, and a leaf to paint with. It was a fun experiment and the picture turned out cute.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwBwqCLLVQI/AAAAAAAAAPs/PfDnZGgwuRo/s1600-h/homemade+art.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RwBwqCLLVQI/AAAAAAAAAPs/PfDnZGgwuRo/s320/homemade+art.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116213044133451010" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2003916244756548752?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-87647387408303549172007-09-29T09:16:00.001-07:002007-09-29T15:49:43.507-07:00My brother Scott turned 40 last week. His fun wife planned the surprise party of the century for him. She brought him blindfolded to his work. And we all yelled surprise! And he was. We were all giggling as we took him around the corner to the TOP DOG LIMO BUS!!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv6Aye6u61I/AAAAAAAAAPM/YnYJDrPyhv4/s1600-h/bus2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv6Aye6u61I/AAAAAAAAAPM/YnYJDrPyhv4/s320/bus2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115667831520684882" /></a><br /><br />This thing is crazy. It's a huge bus (we comfortably fit 15 people in it) with a large screen t.v. in back and a smaller one in the front. It was blasting a U2 concert the whole time. Everything is all dark and swanky. There are foot lights, a disco ball and even a spot for a poll (we didn't use that option). <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv6Ayu6u62I/AAAAAAAAAPU/4j0t4U44t5I/s1600-h/scott.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv6Ayu6u62I/AAAAAAAAAPU/4j0t4U44t5I/s320/scott.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115667835815652194" /></a><br /><br />We rode with the kids (mine and Scott's) to a restaurant and winery in Temecula. And had a yummy, although hectic, lunch with the kids, and then mom drove them home (yeah mom). The rest of us stayed and went to 3 more wineries for tastings. Me and Caleb were the only novice wine tasters, so it was a totally new and fun experience for us. Although wine is considered okay by some raw foodists (since it's fermented at low temperatures) I felt like I totally went off my diet.<br /><br />There was this guy at one of the wine taste-eries who was awesome. Every wine that he poured came along with a story of how he has a case of that same wine in his house. A case? After three or four "tastes" we were beginning to wonder if this guy wasn't a full-on wine-o. Shouldn't there be some kind of rule about this?<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv6Ay-6u63I/AAAAAAAAAPc/k_f_PjN8UMc/s1600-h/bus.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv6Ay-6u63I/AAAAAAAAAPc/k_f_PjN8UMc/s320/bus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115667840110619506" /></a><br /><br />The whole day was super fun, and I highly recommend the Top Dog (Caleb said it should be "Top Dawg") Limo Bus for your next party!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8764738740830354917?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-69016967436005745942007-09-28T08:59:00.000-07:002007-09-29T09:15:59.208-07:00Charis- Mom, how long till I'm 18? <br />Kate- 12 years. Why do you ask?<br />Charis- I was wondering how long till I'm an adult.<br />Kate- Are you excited to be an adult?<br />Charis- yeah. Cause then I can do whatever I want.<br />Kate- Do you feel like you can't do what you want now?<br />Charis- I guess I can. Mom, I don't want to go to college.<br />Kate- Why?! (where did this randomness come from?) <br />Charis- And I don't want to get married. <br />Kate- what? (said calmly)<br />Charis- Because if I get married I'll have to love that person more than I love you.<br /><br />These are the moments that keep me going. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv550-6u60I/AAAAAAAAAPE/MTtl2qUHayo/s1600-h/charis.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rv550-6u60I/AAAAAAAAAPE/MTtl2qUHayo/s320/charis.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115660177888963394" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6901696743600574594?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-5983550461457195162007-09-25T16:56:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:55:23.392-07:00There are some people who always make you feel loved. Who you know will say really nice things to you, and remind you that life is joyful. Hallie is one of those people. And I love her muchly.<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm2d-6u6tI/AAAAAAAAAOM/24SOsLtHTws/s1600-h/IMG_5544.jpg"><img style="margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm2d-6u6tI/AAAAAAAAAOM/24SOsLtHTws/s320/IMG_5544.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114319478077713106" /></a></div><br />We've been friends for 12 years. She was on vacation in San Diego last week, so I got to see her twice.<br><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm3cO6u6xI/AAAAAAAAAOs/_2TeOzjN2ig/s1600-h/IMG_5547.jpg"><img style="margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm3cO6u6xI/AAAAAAAAAOs/_2TeOzjN2ig/s320/IMG_5547.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114320547524569874" /></a></div><br />Our kids don't really know each other, since we became moms after college. But they played together swimmingly.<br><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm3ce6u6yI/AAAAAAAAAO0/Tk0Y5iLQ8Fk/s1600-h/IMG_5531.jpg"><img style="margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm3ce6u6yI/AAAAAAAAAO0/Tk0Y5iLQ8Fk/s320/IMG_5531.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114320551819537186" /></a></div><br />My kid's refer to her oldest son as "that silly and fun boy".<br><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm3c-6u6zI/AAAAAAAAAO8/viXWgM4axRs/s1600-h/charis.jpg"><img style="margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvm3c-6u6zI/AAAAAAAAAO8/viXWgM4axRs/s320/charis.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114320560409471794" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-598355046145719516?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-23048380449582813262007-09-24T15:22:00.001-07:002007-10-17T20:57:09.397-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg43u6u6qI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-siBhn2aeUg/s1600-h/Library+-+0048.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg43u6u6qI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-siBhn2aeUg/s320/Library+-+0048.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113899907017534114" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg43u6u6rI/AAAAAAAAAN8/OEJv72fjVmU/s1600-h/Library+-+0051.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg43u6u6rI/AAAAAAAAAN8/OEJv72fjVmU/s320/Library+-+0051.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113899907017534130" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg43u6u6sI/AAAAAAAAAOE/P3-FUyaVIKM/s1600-h/Library+-+0047.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg43u6u6sI/AAAAAAAAAOE/P3-FUyaVIKM/s320/Library+-+0047.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113899907017534146" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2304838044958281326?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-49244604601955500592007-09-23T15:02:00.000-07:002007-09-25T16:55:03.300-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg13u6u6mI/AAAAAAAAANU/hRq6tPyi4FA/s1600-h/Library+-+0099.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg13u6u6mI/AAAAAAAAANU/hRq6tPyi4FA/s320/Library+-+0099.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113896608482650722" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg14O6u6pI/AAAAAAAAANs/PAcFCDOlUlw/s1600-h/Library+-+0091.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg14O6u6pI/AAAAAAAAANs/PAcFCDOlUlw/s320/Library+-+0091.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113896617072585362" /></a><br /><br />I've recently had two different friends tell me that I should be so thankful for my family. And I am. But I needed those reminders. Those friends have to work really hard to love their parents, and I admire them for doing that. I mean, we all have to work at it sometimes. But my parents and siblings and nephews and nieces are amazing (all 21 of them). I always look forward to family parties, and my kids are just beside themselves with anticipation for each family visit. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg13-6u6nI/AAAAAAAAANc/OWyLoQ8O9fg/s1600-h/Library+-+0097.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg13-6u6nI/AAAAAAAAANc/OWyLoQ8O9fg/s320/Library+-+0097.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113896612777618034" /></a><br /><br />At the last family party Aunt Sissy and Uncle Tom were visiting from Tennessee (my parents are the one's on the left). And Rachel was not prepared for a swim party. John knew how to take care of that. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg14O6u6oI/AAAAAAAAANk/NGA9Yeyl7y8/s1600-h/Library+-+0095.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rvg14O6u6oI/AAAAAAAAANk/NGA9Yeyl7y8/s320/Library+-+0095.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113896617072585346" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4924460460195550059?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-79057847066999665292007-09-22T23:21:00.000-07:002007-09-23T08:02:19.326-07:00My old friend Amber spent the day with us recently. I have lots of comical and ridiculously fun memories of life with Amber. We were the best-est of friends in high school. Now we are both moms and much less fun, but every once in a while we do something crazy. Twister anyone? I know I know. It's been a while. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYII-6u6kI/AAAAAAAAANE/f4TS7W_LTZM/s1600-h/twister1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYII-6u6kI/AAAAAAAAANE/f4TS7W_LTZM/s320/twister1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113283377347095106" /></a><br /><br />Amber was truly amazing me with her flexibility. I think my legs are twice as long as hers, but she was so able to put her left foot on the red and her right hand on the green. She's still got it. Jack, her adorable one year old, was playing right along with us. It truly is "the game that ties you up in knots".<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYII-6u6lI/AAAAAAAAANM/iQM2XlnVyRM/s1600-h/twister2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYII-6u6lI/AAAAAAAAANM/iQM2XlnVyRM/s320/twister2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113283377347095122" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7905784706699966529?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-17508095202888483772007-09-21T22:49:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:57:45.441-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYEFO6u6iI/AAAAAAAAAM0/EkG95YuGfKY/s1600-h/legoman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYEFO6u6iI/AAAAAAAAAM0/EkG95YuGfKY/s320/legoman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113278914876074530" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBxO6u6fI/AAAAAAAAAMc/XIPSOeIKZD0/s1600-h/rollercoaster.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBxO6u6fI/AAAAAAAAAMc/XIPSOeIKZD0/s320/rollercoaster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113276372255435250" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBxe6u6hI/AAAAAAAAAMs/y2V34-B7TW8/s1600-h/lion.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBxe6u6hI/AAAAAAAAAMs/y2V34-B7TW8/s320/lion.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113276376550402578" /></a><br /><br />My parents bought us season passes to Legoland last Christmas. Since it's a mere 10 minutes away, we've been often. The thing about legoland that's so great is it's relaxing. This is not a quality of Disneyland, Magic Mountain, or any other amuesment park. I have often chosen to go there on days when I needed calm. Amazingly that can be found at Legoland (as long as you don't go in the summer). It's the greenest spot in north county SD. Maybe thats why I like it.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBw-6u6eI/AAAAAAAAAMU/fO3YcqVF8Go/s1600-h/legopirate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBw-6u6eI/AAAAAAAAAMU/fO3YcqVF8Go/s320/legopirate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113276367960467938" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBxO6u6gI/AAAAAAAAAMk/7fwnakwuivE/s1600-h/blacknwhite.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYBxO6u6gI/AAAAAAAAAMk/7fwnakwuivE/s320/blacknwhite.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113276372255435266" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYEw-6u6jI/AAAAAAAAAM8/4EChB_wHcnI/s1600-h/car.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RvYEw-6u6jI/AAAAAAAAAM8/4EChB_wHcnI/s320/car.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113279666495351346" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-1750809520288848377?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-79331129081414076242007-09-15T20:36:00.000-07:002007-09-19T18:40:24.182-07:00Last week was not a good week. Tuesday and Wednesday in particular were real pissers. It's hard to know sometimes why certain days are harder than others. I've had lots of days like last week, and I am normally able to be patient, or see the joy in the situation, or feel hopeful about the next day. But this time, I was out of hope. I had that bad feeling you get deep in your stomach, that tells you everything sucks. Which is not true. But it feels that way. Tuesday I got to the point when I was so frustrated and sad at my kids that I ran into my bedroom, closed the door and literally fell on my knees to pray. It was a bit dramatic. And I'm not a dramatic person. It's not unusual for me to pray for help, but this was a desperate prayer. One minute later Charis barged in and said "what are you doing?" I told her I was praying and she wanted to know "what for?" So I said I was sad and frustrated at the way everyone was acting, and I was asking God to give me patience and wisdom. By this time Paxton and Jonas had come in too. Charis got really quite and Paxton gave me lots of hugs. A minute later Charis said, "I prayed too...that we would be more nice!" Amazingly, the rest of that day was much better. The kids were more aware of the way I was being affected by them. And I felt thankful.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fGHQDYI/AAAAAAAAALs/UTpsnEXXe04/s1600-h/kissing+brothers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fGHQDYI/AAAAAAAAALs/UTpsnEXXe04/s320/kissing+brothers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111012166212783490" /></a><br /><br />I would have blogged about this the following day - God answering my prayer - but the next day was much worse than the one before. I even called Caleb and told him I was ready to trade in Jonas. He was interested, depending on what we were trading him in for. JoJo (as Charis calls him) is amazing and fun and brilliant, as well as strong willed, defiant, and hot-tempered. Sometime that afternoon I asked Charis what we could do to make our day better. (We all knew it was a bad day.)She said, "pray more?" We did. I guess God answered "no" because the day did not really improve. <br /><br />Yet somehow in the midst of all that we did these amazing things that would make it apear we had a fabulous week. I could have just posted those, but I would feel like a fraud. So you get both : )<br /> <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fWHQDZI/AAAAAAAAAL0/xJB6AX9ZEq0/s1600-h/bubble+art.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fWHQDZI/AAAAAAAAAL0/xJB6AX9ZEq0/s320/bubble+art.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111012170507750802" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fWHQDaI/AAAAAAAAAL8/FPKG7rr51Lg/s1600-h/pax+painting.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fWHQDaI/AAAAAAAAAL8/FPKG7rr51Lg/s320/pax+painting.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111012170507750818" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fmHQDbI/AAAAAAAAAME/0nEFBzRb6vo/s1600-h/artwork.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fmHQDbI/AAAAAAAAAME/0nEFBzRb6vo/s320/artwork.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111012174802718130" /></a><br /><br />The above pictures are of this cool bubble art we did during our bad week. They turned out really cute.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fmHQDcI/AAAAAAAAAMM/raFoBHD9ZcQ/s1600-h/rock+climbing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Ru32fmHQDcI/AAAAAAAAAMM/raFoBHD9ZcQ/s320/rock+climbing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111012174802718146" /></a><br /><br />And Charis can now make it to level 2 at the R.E.I climbing wall! She's awesome.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7933112908141407624?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-10665034044765052142007-09-11T14:34:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:55:50.339-07:00Caleb and I got to go on a date last Friday. Grams came over to watch the kids, and since she spent the night, we got to stay out as late as we wanted. We fought through our yawns, and stayed out until 11:00pm. Can you believe how crazy we are?! Caleb came home from work with flowers for me. Awwhhhh.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RucN5EUbftI/AAAAAAAAALc/YkRJZHx4MtQ/s1600-h/flowers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RucN5EUbftI/AAAAAAAAALc/YkRJZHx4MtQ/s320/flowers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109067576338251474" /></a><br /><br />We ate at Cilantro Live for dinner. We dined at the one in Carlsbad (there are 4 of them in San Diego county). We ordered a sampler plate, a "margarita", and carrot cake for dessert. It was all really good and surprisingly filling. The sampler plate included 2 Nori Rolls, 1 Spring Roll, 1 Buenos Vida Wrap, 2 Raw-violis, 2 Mini -Pizzaza and a small House Salad. The margarita was crazy but yummy. It had green apple, lime, ginger and a pinch of ground cinnamon. The ginger gave it a serious kick. I've tried to reproduce the carrot cake, but I need to keep working on my recipe. Theirs was tasty. <br /><br />Afterward we saw a (gasp) 9:20pm showing of Bourne Ultimatum. Man it was intense! It has the craziest fighting and chase scenes ever. It was a little over-the-top violent for me. But Caleb really liked it. <br /><br />I have a great raw recipe to share. I took it to a BBQ and everyone liked it! (Randomly, I got it from the Tyra Banks website.) <br /><br />The “Raw Food Diet” Recipe for Angel Hair Pasta and Marinara Sauce:<br /><br />INGREDIENTS: <br />3 medium to large green zucchinis<br />4- 6 medium size roma tomatoes<br />12- 16 sun dried tomatoes, soaked<br />3 medjule dates, pitted and soaked<br />1/4 cup olive oil<br />4 cloves garlic<br />2 Tablespoons parsley (dried okay)<br />1 teaspoon sea salt<br />1/8 teaspoon cayenne (or paprika)<br /><br />Use your food processor to cut the zucchini into thin strips, reminiscent of angel hair pasta.(I cut these by hand since I don't have a food processor. But it took a while.) For the sauce, you don't need to chop or dice any of the ingredients. Simply combine all ingredients in the processor or a blender and blend. Let the sauce "marinate" the zucchinis for a couple of hours. Then serve!<br /><br />(Recipe makes 8-11 cups)<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RucN5EUbfuI/AAAAAAAAALk/Tw7mqH-5RY0/s1600-h/juicing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RucN5EUbfuI/AAAAAAAAALk/Tw7mqH-5RY0/s320/juicing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109067576338251490" /></a><br /><br />Charis has been fascinated by my morning juicing. So she asked if she could make some for herself. I gladly agreed, and she proceeded to make herself cucumber, carrot, apple, celery juice. And she liked it!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-1066503404476505214?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-39627152106004180082007-09-09T19:00:00.000-07:002007-09-10T21:08:28.965-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlokUbfnI/AAAAAAAAAKs/GdO_MWj2uP0/s1600-h/pillowfight.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlokUbfnI/AAAAAAAAAKs/GdO_MWj2uP0/s320/pillowfight.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108389993707699826" /></a><br /><br />Who needs "Swiss Family Robinson" when you can have pillow fights, princesses, sword fights, races, kid-directed performances, screaming, and yummy food? And all this right here in Encinitas!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlokUbfoI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Y6o9LEn0LUg/s1600-h/astridblackandwhite.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlokUbfoI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Y6o9LEn0LUg/s320/astridblackandwhite.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108389993707699842" /></a><br /><br />There was a lot running and loud talking. And the adults had a great time hanging out while the kids entertained themselves. I enjoyed meeting an unschooling mom who has 3 older girls (who she's unschooled all the way). <br /> <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlo0UbfpI/AAAAAAAAAK8/NjB8uXcvxDc/s1600-h/swords.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlo0UbfpI/AAAAAAAAAK8/NjB8uXcvxDc/s320/swords.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108389998002667154" /></a><br /><br />The sword fights eventually ended with a real injury. Pax claims he cut Asher with his sword.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlo0UbfqI/AAAAAAAAALE/x6GLn0tw49U/s1600-h/girls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlo0UbfqI/AAAAAAAAALE/x6GLn0tw49U/s320/girls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108389998002667170" /></a><br /><br />The girls gave all the adults special jewelry and food they concocted. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlpEUbfrI/AAAAAAAAALM/4mjsG1byUqQ/s1600-h/outside.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSlpEUbfrI/AAAAAAAAALM/4mjsG1byUqQ/s320/outside.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108390002297634482" /></a><br /><br />And the evening ended with a lengthy and confusing, although impressive, performance by the kids. The red box was the stage, and everyone took a turn doing their thing on it. Don't think organized talent show. Think guitar, bongo drum, yelling, sword fighting, bossiness and lots of fun.<br /><br /><div align="center"><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-2493171494994803982&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3962715210600418008?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-87886364547706031722007-09-08T18:48:00.000-07:002007-09-10T21:14:17.862-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5EUbfiI/AAAAAAAAAKE/g1prwkBWPWs/s1600-h/glenpark.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5EUbfiI/AAAAAAAAAKE/g1prwkBWPWs/s320/glenpark.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108386978640657954" /></a><br /><br />We love Glen Park in Cardiff. There is an ocean view, a little playground, about 10 different kinds of huge beautiful trees (many climbable), lots of grass to run around on, the train to watch, and sand to dig in. We had a family picnic there on Saturday. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5EUbfjI/AAAAAAAAAKM/u_w3j3pOGLQ/s1600-h/charisintree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5EUbfjI/AAAAAAAAAKM/u_w3j3pOGLQ/s320/charisintree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108386978640657970" /></a><br /><br />Charis spent a lot of time climbing this tree. By the time we were done she was able to scoot up it really quickly and walk up pretty high. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5EUbfkI/AAAAAAAAAKU/GubkfJrN3wg/s1600-h/badtree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5EUbfkI/AAAAAAAAAKU/GubkfJrN3wg/s320/badtree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108386978640657986" /></a><br /><br />This tree was not as easy. Note the frustrated face. It had lots of sap on it, and the branches were too close together.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5UUbflI/AAAAAAAAAKc/LlJ3s47uMlk/s1600-h/boysintrees.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5UUbflI/AAAAAAAAAKc/LlJ3s47uMlk/s320/boysintrees.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108386982935625298" /></a><br /><br />The boys weren't interested in climbing but, man, they were cute.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5UUbfmI/AAAAAAAAAKk/LiWgU6vs45Q/s1600-h/blacknwhite.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSi5UUbfmI/AAAAAAAAAKk/LiWgU6vs45Q/s320/blacknwhite.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108386982935625314" /></a><br /><br />And Jonas was loving being in the middle of Pax and Caleb's "spider".<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuYVrkUbfsI/AAAAAAAAALU/JR-1sdL9eBo/s1600-h/thespider.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuYVrkUbfsI/AAAAAAAAALU/JR-1sdL9eBo/s320/thespider.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108794665526329026" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8788636454770603172?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-40937642112520875862007-09-08T18:34:00.000-07:002007-09-09T18:59:58.078-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSfRkUbfgI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/aEY27bqbdBE/s1600-h/hungryhippos.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSfRkUbfgI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/aEY27bqbdBE/s320/hungryhippos.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108383001500941826" /></a><br /><br />Charis is obsessed. She claims "Swiss Family Robinson" is her favorite movie except for Cinderella III. And she wants to watch it all the time. The other day we went to Cardiff Beach with our friend Astrid. Charis explained the movie to her in great detail, telling her she had to come over and watch it. Astrid was mildly interested. Her and her mom ended up coming over, so Charis was ecstatic to show her the film. But Astrid preferred to play, so Charis preceded to give the most impressive sale of the movie. She would not let it go! Finally Astrid consented to watch, but about 10 minutes in, she was over it and wanted to play. Charis couldn't believe it. She said, "There are tigers and pirates coming! Don't you want to watch that?!" But Astrid was not convinced. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSfR0UbfhI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/N9wyApwAqwM/s1600-h/karate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuSfR0UbfhI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/N9wyApwAqwM/s320/karate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108383005795909138" /></a><br /><br />Later we got a short karate demonstration from Astrid, which has generated several fun conversations.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4093764211252087586?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-28970561731709003032007-09-06T14:58:00.000-07:002007-09-09T19:00:23.230-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuCKAEUbffI/AAAAAAAAAJs/bJjjs7uyGVg/s1600-h/b27a3b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuCKAEUbffI/AAAAAAAAAJs/bJjjs7uyGVg/s320/b27a3b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107233711202205170" /></a><br />Have you seen this movie? Oh my gosh. It is hilarious. So terribly cheesy and politically incorrect. But it was a fun thing to watch as a family. Shipwrecks, tree houses, crushes, exotic animals, and pirates. What more could you ask for? Caleb made an elaborate tent for us to sit in as we sipped our smoothies and watched the film. He's a fun dad.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuB5BEUbfeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/SyacYdLkv-Q/s1600-h/tent.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuB5BEUbfeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/SyacYdLkv-Q/s320/tent.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107215036684402146" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-2897056173170900303?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-15399778866227019502007-09-05T13:54:00.000-07:002007-09-06T14:58:33.715-07:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuBp70UbfcI/AAAAAAAAAJU/6caQaew-ShE/s1600-h/dog+school.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuBp70UbfcI/AAAAAAAAAJU/6caQaew-ShE/s320/dog+school.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107198453815672258" /></a><br /><br />For never having gone to school, Charis is quite the little teacher. We overheard Charis teaching her cousins and brother on Labor Day. They were all to sit still and listen to her ask questions from this Kindergarten questions booklet. They actually followed her directions, and sat still listening to her in the 105 degree weather. When I asked her what they were doing she said "puppy school". Pretty soon we saw them all prancing through the house barking and chasing each other. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuBp8EUbfdI/AAAAAAAAAJc/J4kuSKIgAos/s1600-h/cousins.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RuBp8EUbfdI/AAAAAAAAAJc/J4kuSKIgAos/s320/cousins.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107198458110639570" /></a><br /><br />The puppies needed a break, so they stopped for lunch.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-1539977886622701950?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-45718334135774403312007-09-04T21:21:00.000-07:002007-09-04T21:33:34.160-07:00I'm snacking on raw macadamia nuts as I'm writing this. It's been two weeks since I've gone raw. And I'm still loving it. mostly. My energy level is still higher than before, and my moods seem less extreme. I'm just generally in a better mood. My body seems to like eating this way, and it's been fairly easy. The past few days I've had very minimal joint pain, but Im not sure that's due to the diet. It will take more time to evaluate that. <br /><br />The negative: it's freakin' expensive to eat this way! I'm trying to learn how to do it more frugally. The raw crackers, cereals and ice creams are super good, but really pricey. If I end up doing this for a long time, I will make a lot of that stuff myself, but I'd need to buy a sprouter and dehydrator. And some of the specialty items I've bought, I didn't like. For instance, the sea vegetables. They literally made me gag. Nothing makes me gag. It was that bad. But overall I love eating this way.<br /><br />I modified a recipe I found online, and it turned out pretty good. Here it is...<br /><br />COCONUT ALMOND TREAT<br />There is a "crust" and then a icy topping. Serves 2-3<br />Crust:<br />2 cups germinated raw almonds (germinated=soaked in water for 8-10 hours) <br />3 Tablespoons coconut oil<br />1 Tablespoon agave syrup (or raw honey)<br /><br />mix the almonds and oil together in blender or food processor. Mix in agave syrup and form 2 "pancakes" out of it all. <br />Place on wax paper and put in freezer aprox. 2 hours.<br /><br />Sauce:<br />1 young Thai coconut (has to be carefully opened with a big knife)<br />1 Tablespoon agave syrup (or raw honey)<br />1 teaspoon vanilla extract<br /><br />Open up the coconut and put the milk and "meat" in a blender. Add the syrup and vanilla and mix. <br />Place in a container and freeze aprox. 2 hours. <br /><br />Once they're ready, place the almond "pancake" on a plate and spoon the sauce over the top. It's a refreshing treat.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4571833413577440331?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-47437026417728320952007-09-04T15:37:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:56:52.388-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3ha0UbfYI/AAAAAAAAAI0/_6RGByf4lp0/s1600-h/cat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3ha0UbfYI/AAAAAAAAAI0/_6RGByf4lp0/s320/cat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106485403345190274" /></a><br /><br />We have cats. Two of them. "Li Li" is orange and "Ash" is black. Both are strays. And they don't like each other. It's scary sometimes - the cat fight noises truly are frightening. But Charis and Jonas adore them. So, I keep feeding them. I even bought cat food today. (Turns out, cats don't like brocolli.) It's the perfect way to have cats - I don't feel responsible for them, but my kids get to enjoy them. Unfortunately, Caleb is not a fan. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3iBEUbfZI/AAAAAAAAAI8/2Ou7wM7NEnY/s1600-h/charis.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3iBEUbfZI/AAAAAAAAAI8/2Ou7wM7NEnY/s320/charis.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106486060475186578" /></a><br /><br />Charis and Pax were playing secret agent the other day. So, Charis came up to me and said, "What's your problem? How can we help you?" I told her I didn't want to tell her my problems until I knew who she was. At first she just looked at me, so I repeated my request. After more silence she said, "you can look it up at www.charis.com". And, that is my daughter! <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3iR0UbfaI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ivurf8CwBm8/s1600-h/sand.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3iR0UbfaI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ivurf8CwBm8/s320/sand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106486348237995426" /></a><br /><br />Charis, Pax and 2 of their friends built this intricate island and canal system at Cottonwood Creek Park. It was pretty impressive. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3i30UbfbI/AAAAAAAAAJM/n90Phj1HlFs/s1600-h/ko.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rt3i30UbfbI/AAAAAAAAAJM/n90Phj1HlFs/s320/ko.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106487001073024434" /></a><br /><br />Our old friend Esther Ko came to visit us for the day. It was fun and mellow; full of the beach and games. The kids were really excited to play Kids of Catan with her, since she is the Settlers of Catan queen. And they drank chocolate soy milk out of a coconut.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4743702641772832095?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-9898291073522880942007-08-29T16:14:00.000-07:002007-09-02T22:02:33.900-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtuQiUUbfWI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lYffhJIZdTI/s1600-h/Library+-+0047.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtuQiUUbfWI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lYffhJIZdTI/s320/Library+-+0047.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105833521798937954" /></a><br /><br />We have this cute coupon book with things like, "Pick any movie at the video store tonight" coupons in it. Well, we recently gave Pax one that said "Go to work with Daddy or Mommy". Since he's been to my work a lot, we thought it'd be fun for him to go with Caleb. The plan was to meet Caleb in the park, and after a little picninc, Pax was off to work. He was so cute the morning of, as he picked out his "work clothes". He said "no" to the first 3 shirts I offered, and changed his shorts twice. Then he wanted to pack his bag. We put in a few movies, some little cars, books, and lots of snacks (he kept adding more).<br /><br />Caleb said he did great. He mostly watched movies, and ate almost all his snacks (there were a LOT). He got to see the snack room and the game room, and played pool with daddy at the end of the day. I was so excited to see him when he got home, but he was chill. He said it was good, but that daddy's work was kinda boring. And he liked the snack room.<br /> <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtuQikUbfXI/AAAAAAAAAIs/plAvO2dRdhc/s1600-h/Library+-+0046.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtuQikUbfXI/AAAAAAAAAIs/plAvO2dRdhc/s320/Library+-+0046.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105833526093905266" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=5741028130901727523&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-989829107352288094?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-76769152829963423562007-08-28T22:35:00.000-07:002007-08-28T22:57:28.549-07:00I have dear friend, Rochelle, whom I was pregnant with all three times. Our kids have been friends since the womb, and it is such a special relationship for them to have. Well, being the crazy, spontaneous, unschooling mama that she is, she drove down from Pasadena to be with us for the day. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUJAEUbfLI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Y2LVf_cPXB8/s1600-h/Library+-+0003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUJAEUbfLI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Y2LVf_cPXB8/s320/Library+-+0003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103995649458404530" /></a><br /><br />We were already at the park with another unschooling friend when she arrived. And as soon as the kids saw each other they immediately connected, and played together non-stop. We spent over three hours at the park. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUI_0UbfII/AAAAAAAAAG0/7ZeEXnfkhZk/s1600-h/Library+-+0010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUI_0UbfII/AAAAAAAAAG0/7ZeEXnfkhZk/s320/Library+-+0010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103995645163437186" /></a><br /><br />Elijah lost his first tooth at the park! He says it was because he ate some sand.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUI_0UbfJI/AAAAAAAAAG8/A53jorfhRV0/s1600-h/Library+-+0015.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUI_0UbfJI/AAAAAAAAAG8/A53jorfhRV0/s320/Library+-+0015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103995645163437202" /></a><br /><br />Then we came home and played some more. The girls wanted to be alone with their Polly Pockets, so the boys wrestled and played pirates while Rochelle and I talked. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUJAEUbfKI/AAAAAAAAAHE/zxy7q2-yBTE/s1600-h/Library+-+0008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUJAEUbfKI/AAAAAAAAAHE/zxy7q2-yBTE/s320/Library+-+0008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103995649458404514" /></a><br /><br />We ate a delicious shmorgas- board for dinner, and then headed to the beach when Caleb got home. After playing in the waves, building sand castles and climbing the rocks, it was time for our friends to leave. It really was a wonderful day. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUJS0UbfMI/AAAAAAAAAHU/h5RaG9olBL4/s1600-h/Library+-+0002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUJS0UbfMI/AAAAAAAAAHU/h5RaG9olBL4/s320/Library+-+0002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103995971580951746" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7676915282996342356?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-2138386322401017192007-08-28T21:41:00.001-07:002007-09-02T21:57:09.814-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT5CEUbe9I/AAAAAAAAAFc/V6vaxaT8sDg/s1600-h/Library+-+0060.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT5CEUbe9I/AAAAAAAAAFc/V6vaxaT8sDg/s320/Library+-+0060.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103978091632098258" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-213838632240101719?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-2807153974290893792007-08-28T20:42:00.000-07:002007-08-28T21:43:50.376-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTrTkUbe3I/AAAAAAAAAEs/hwXFnKOZ0FU/s1600-h/soup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTrTkUbe3I/AAAAAAAAAEs/hwXFnKOZ0FU/s320/soup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103962999117020018" /></a><br /><br />I've recently began a raw food journey. It's a way of eating that I've heard of before, but it never appealed to me. Why have I began eating that way? Well, over the last few years I've had a growing problem with my joints. I've seen the doctor three times, and each time they say the same thing. "I don't know what you have." Thankfully the tests for rheumatoid arthritis have come back negative. But I don't fit the profile of osteo-arthritis either. Yet, my symptoms are getting worse. <br /><br />I recently met a woman who has a chronic pain issue. The doctors put her on steroids as well as some other things, but she was not improving. She was encouraged to go all raw by a friend, and when she did her pain finally vanished. Her story inspired me to look up whether or not others with joint problems have been helped by this. I found that there are! So, I began.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTrTkUbe4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/GrsAsuZx7AI/s1600-h/Library+-+0055.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTrTkUbe4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/GrsAsuZx7AI/s320/Library+-+0055.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103962999117020034" /></a><br /><br />In the raw food diet, you don't eat food that's been heated over 110 degrees. Apparently once the food is heated it looses most of it's nutritional value and all of it's enzymes. Our bodies often heal once we put mostly whole foods (with all their nutritional value intact) in them. There are a lot of testimonies out there of people who have healed through this diet. So, what do I eat? A lot of nuts, seeds, sprouted berries, avocados, coconut and fresh fruits and veggies.<br /><br />It's been a week since I've started and I've already seen several positive effects. I've felt much more energetic and have been able to go off my coffee addiction. This in itself makes me very happy! I don't have the sluggish feeling I used to have during the day. And I'm no longer bloated. My joints have not seen an improvement yet. I've read that sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. I'm hoping to eat all raw and vegan for at least a month, and evaluate after that.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-280715397429089379?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-48597025361945805312007-08-28T20:22:00.000-07:002007-09-02T22:04:19.580-07:00Remember doing this as a kid? I loved doing this. But it always kinda hurt, and was a bit disappointing. Yet I did it every time I saw a big grassy hill (and was allowed to). Charis is the same. It always tempts her, and she is generally a bit disappointed. But I love watching her do it. And then there's Pax who wouldn't even walk on grass without shoes for a long time. I think he tried rolling once, and has never been tempted since. My guess is that Jonas will be a roller.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKSkUbfSI/AAAAAAAAAIE/sOK0X8FJdKQ/s1600-h/Library+-+0053.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKSkUbfSI/AAAAAAAAAIE/sOK0X8FJdKQ/s320/Library+-+0053.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104700754239388962" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKS0UbfTI/AAAAAAAAAIM/HsLvZKbSKis/s1600-h/Library+-+0052.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKS0UbfTI/AAAAAAAAAIM/HsLvZKbSKis/s320/Library+-+0052.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104700758534356274" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKS0UbfUI/AAAAAAAAAIU/1iSjU_8Ab9o/s1600-h/Library+-+0050.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKS0UbfUI/AAAAAAAAAIU/1iSjU_8Ab9o/s320/Library+-+0050.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104700758534356290" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKTEUbfVI/AAAAAAAAAIc/UMyW2G7XmWE/s1600-h/Library+-+0056.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RteKTEUbfVI/AAAAAAAAAIc/UMyW2G7XmWE/s320/Library+-+0056.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104700762829323602" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-4859702536194580531?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-76969305223425132292007-08-28T12:10:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:58:22.575-07:00My little one year old loves to take pictures on my digital camera. Im thinking I should buy him a special kids' camera, because he is so into it. And he's pretty good! The best part is when you show him the picture he took, he throws his head back and laughs every time. Here is a sampling of his work...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXCEUbfNI/AAAAAAAAAHc/es0Zpg-vkKY/s1600-h/Library+-+0013.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXCEUbfNI/AAAAAAAAAHc/es0Zpg-vkKY/s320/Library+-+0013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104574026934353106" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXCkUbfOI/AAAAAAAAAHk/csBROQHd0FU/s1600-h/Library+-+0012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXCkUbfOI/AAAAAAAAAHk/csBROQHd0FU/s320/Library+-+0012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104574035524287714" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXC0UbfPI/AAAAAAAAAHs/kMBepg0CaBc/s1600-h/Library+-+0040.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXC0UbfPI/AAAAAAAAAHs/kMBepg0CaBc/s320/Library+-+0040.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104574039819255026" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXDEUbfQI/AAAAAAAAAH0/PtkCIWGee1k/s1600-h/Library+-+0042.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXDEUbfQI/AAAAAAAAAH0/PtkCIWGee1k/s320/Library+-+0042.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104574044114222338" /></a><br /><br />I couldn't believe how well this last one turned out. I think I might use it for my profile picture!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXDUUbfRI/AAAAAAAAAH8/_t85_AJ5Ptk/s1600-h/Library+-+0015.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtcXDUUbfRI/AAAAAAAAAH8/_t85_AJ5Ptk/s320/Library+-+0015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104574048409189650" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7696930522342513229?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-78590814162506566882007-08-27T22:09:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:59:04.865-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAx0UbfFI/AAAAAAAAAGc/U4Bva40fyzk/s1600-h/Library+-+0006.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAx0UbfFI/AAAAAAAAAGc/U4Bva40fyzk/s320/Library+-+0006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103986608552246354" /></a><br /><br />Just a few miles down the road is this beautiful place that I'd never been to. My friend Mim suggested it for our Monday hike. I was astonished by how beautiful it was and we ended up having a hot and fun adventure.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAxkUbfDI/AAAAAAAAAGM/KFX4swJClUs/s1600-h/Library+-+0010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAxkUbfDI/AAAAAAAAAGM/KFX4swJClUs/s320/Library+-+0010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103986604257279026" /></a><br /><br />The kids were all about the binoculars, while we were in the parking lot. But guess who got to hold them the whole time. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of how cute they were pouring over the map. They all wanted to be the map leader, and insisted they knew where we were. It was pretty funny.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAxkUbfEI/AAAAAAAAAGU/vuVhxsZxFmo/s1600-h/Library+-+0009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAxkUbfEI/AAAAAAAAAGU/vuVhxsZxFmo/s320/Library+-+0009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103986604257279042" /></a><br /><br />There is a really cool nature center at the top of the hill. It is filled with real stuffed- animals you can pet. Charis and Jonas were really into that. They have hawks, mountain lions, rattle snakes, birds, coyotes, etc. And the lady working there was happy to talk with the kids about the animals. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAx0UbfGI/AAAAAAAAAGk/VXSeeVDtyCc/s1600-h/Library+-+0001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtUAx0UbfGI/AAAAAAAAAGk/VXSeeVDtyCc/s320/Library+-+0001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103986608552246370" /></a><br /><br />Charis found a secret path that took us through a canopy of brush. It felt very adventuresome. We can't wait to go back when its a bit cooler.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-7859081416250656688?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-9424161697781787512007-08-24T21:10:00.000-07:002007-08-31T13:16:53.441-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyFkUbe5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/zbNvNCVG7WI/s1600-h/sprinklers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyFkUbe5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/zbNvNCVG7WI/s320/sprinklers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103970455180245906" /></a><br /><br />Caleb was gone for the weekend. He and Shiloh treated their mom to a weekend away at Pismo Beach. So, me and the kids spent some time at grandma and papa's house in El Cajon. As soon as we got there they ran through the sprinklers.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyF0Ube6I/AAAAAAAAAFE/WDrz4c4TW9w/s1600-h/Library+-+0037.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyF0Ube6I/AAAAAAAAAFE/WDrz4c4TW9w/s320/Library+-+0037.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103970459475213218" /></a><br /><br />Charis played Polly Pocket with Rachel. It was awesome. They talked in British accents and played with those tiny dolls for 45 minutes! <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyF0Ube7I/AAAAAAAAAFM/QSo5E4izToM/s1600-h/Library+-+0041.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyF0Ube7I/AAAAAAAAAFM/QSo5E4izToM/s320/Library+-+0041.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103970459475213234" /></a><br /><br />I was having serious flashbacks as I watched my kids ride their bikes around the cul de sac. I still have a scar on my knee from a crash I had on that cul de sac. But everyone was safe this time. <br /> <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyGEUbe8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/TmJleLrtNC4/s1600-h/jonasbike.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTyGEUbe8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/TmJleLrtNC4/s320/jonasbike.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103970463770180546" /></a><br /><br />Okay, this made me laugh really hard. My dad shows up with Jonas who is shirtless, with Charis' helmet on, riding this huge and ancient red bike. We love Pa pa.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-942416169778178751?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-88554494961463828372007-08-23T21:46:00.000-07:002007-08-28T22:05:02.730-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT8VEUbe-I/AAAAAAAAAFk/gihXpObc_uM/s1600-h/Library+-+0029.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT8VEUbe-I/AAAAAAAAAFk/gihXpObc_uM/s320/Library+-+0029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103981716584496098" /></a><br /><br />I had a day of feeling like nothing productive or "educational" was happening. I felt we needed more. More what I don't know, but it seemed like a wasted day. We usually go out in the morning and do something cool and then hang out at home for Jonas' afternoon nap. Well today we stayed home. And I felt like I was being a bad mom. So I did something that helped. I wrote down everything we had done so far that day. Seeing it on paper, and being mindful of it, made me realize what a lovely day it had been. Exactly the kind of day I like. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT8VEUbe_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/lrNO00MIZxQ/s1600-h/Library+-+0021.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT8VEUbe_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/lrNO00MIZxQ/s320/Library+-+0021.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103981716584496114" /></a><br /><br />Besides making amazing sculptures and playing with calculators, we painting little figurines. Made a pillow castle. Charis made her own book all by herself. We colored. Looked at the cover of video games and discussed the pictures. Snuggled. Listened to music. Danced. Took a shower together. Did laudry and cleaning "together". Ate and drank together. cuddled. made balloon bombs. and talked a lot.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT95EUbfCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Wu-XVMW83VI/s1600-h/Library+-+0016.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT95EUbfCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Wu-XVMW83VI/s320/Library+-+0016.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103983434571414562" /></a><br /> <br />And did a ribbon dance. of course.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT8VEUbfAI/AAAAAAAAAF0/dGoAOyShcds/s1600-h/Library+-+0024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtT8VEUbfAI/AAAAAAAAAF0/dGoAOyShcds/s320/Library+-+0024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103981716584496130" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8855449496146382837?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-65928999606810083662007-08-23T20:36:00.000-07:002007-08-28T20:41:48.965-07:00The day after Charis made a cake, Paxton wanted to make a cake with mommy too. So, we ended up with 2 chocolate cakes! <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTqi0Ube1I/AAAAAAAAAEc/nNCRA4V5Xsc/s1600-h/Library+-+0080.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/RtTqi0Ube1I/AAAAAAAAAEc/nNCRA4V5Xsc/s320/Library+-+0080.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103962161598397266" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6592899960681008366?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-18925449013364296032007-08-22T22:06:00.000-07:002007-08-22T22:13:28.913-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0XK0UbeyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/AlTXs0ZjeBg/s1600-h/Library+-+0006.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0XK0UbeyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/AlTXs0ZjeBg/s320/Library+-+0006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101759427491101474" /></a><br /><br />I felt frustrated with my little girl today. She was a bit grumpy and we were just struggling to enjoy each other. She announced at 7:00pm that she wanted to make a cake. My first reaction was annoyance at her insistence. So I told her she could make one by herself if she wanted to. So she listed the ingredients she was going to use (2 eggs, flour, salt and honey). From then I was sucked in. And gladly so. We had a really fun time of measuring, taste testing, shooing away the boys, and eventually eating our healthy chocolate cake.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0XLEUbezI/AAAAAAAAAEM/hidqSlpcoZI/s1600-h/Library+-+0001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0XLEUbezI/AAAAAAAAAEM/hidqSlpcoZI/s320/Library+-+0001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101759431786068786" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0XLUUbe0I/AAAAAAAAAEU/pf7tlODh-fM/s1600-h/Library+-+0002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0XLUUbe0I/AAAAAAAAAEU/pf7tlODh-fM/s320/Library+-+0002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101759436081036098" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-1892544901336429603?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-82046950081787534842007-08-22T21:59:00.000-07:002007-10-17T20:59:30.317-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0UVUUbewI/AAAAAAAAAD0/5Gq1GbdYt8Q/s1600-h/Library+-+0024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0UVUUbewI/AAAAAAAAAD0/5Gq1GbdYt8Q/s320/Library+-+0024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101756309344844546" /></a><br /><br />We have been going to R.E.I. to climb the pinnacle for a couple of months now. And Charis finally reached the top and rang the bell! It was so fun to see her progress every time, and finally do it. She was so proud of herself. She really is a little monkey. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0UVUUbexI/AAAAAAAAAD8/h4rqVePz8A0/s1600-h/Library+-+0020.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0UVUUbexI/AAAAAAAAAD8/h4rqVePz8A0/s320/Library+-+0020.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101756309344844562" /></a><br /><br />Paxton has also been working hard at getting to the top. Although he hasn't made it yet, he has improved with each visit.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8204695008178753484?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-60193538920763571022007-08-22T21:52:00.000-07:002007-08-22T21:56:55.810-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0S7UUbesI/AAAAAAAAADU/Z34Ru_x_-XU/s1600-h/Library+-+0047.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0S7UUbesI/AAAAAAAAADU/Z34Ru_x_-XU/s320/Library+-+0047.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101754763156617922" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0TeUUbevI/AAAAAAAAADs/9LPOIZOIa8o/s1600-h/Library+-+0046.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0TeUUbevI/AAAAAAAAADs/9LPOIZOIa8o/s320/Library+-+0046.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101755364452039410" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0S7kUbeuI/AAAAAAAAADk/DYOLtrctymc/s1600-h/Library+-+0044.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0S7kUbeuI/AAAAAAAAADk/DYOLtrctymc/s320/Library+-+0044.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101754767451585250" /></a><br />I really like this guy.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-6019353892076357102?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-58325529129994861852007-08-20T21:45:00.000-07:002007-08-22T21:57:43.467-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0SD0UbepI/AAAAAAAAAC8/m7lZgnmDKwE/s1600-h/Library+-+0037.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0SD0UbepI/AAAAAAAAAC8/m7lZgnmDKwE/s320/Library+-+0037.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101753809673878162" /></a><br /><br />We've had these stored away all year. So, after rearanging the house (so they'd fit) Caleb started making tracks with the kids. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0SEEUbeqI/AAAAAAAAADE/T6dq2fF0Pvg/s1600-h/Library+-+0030.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0SEEUbeqI/AAAAAAAAADE/T6dq2fF0Pvg/s320/Library+-+0030.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101753813968845474" /></a><br /><br />One of the best parts was seeing how much Jonas enjoyed them. As well as all the variations of tracks that were made.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0SEUUberI/AAAAAAAAADM/Gu9oLvXcwpM/s1600-h/Library+-+0051.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0SEUUberI/AAAAAAAAADM/Gu9oLvXcwpM/s320/Library+-+0051.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101753818263812786" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-5832552912999486185?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-85140210178321246802007-08-17T21:36:00.000-07:002007-08-22T21:58:36.360-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0PFEUbemI/AAAAAAAAACk/n_kmjTOrws8/s1600-h/Library+-+0065.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0PFEUbemI/AAAAAAAAACk/n_kmjTOrws8/s320/Library+-+0065.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101750532613831266" /></a><br /><br />This photo doesn't do justice to the delicous spread of Thai food we had. The menu ranged from Pad See Ew to Chicken Curry to Thai iced tea, ending with a dessert of sticky rice with mango and coconut ice cream. We had such a fun night of eating, talking, playing and more eating. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0PFUUbenI/AAAAAAAAACs/b2Wf61-FzLk/s1600-h/Library+-+0060.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0PFUUbenI/AAAAAAAAACs/b2Wf61-FzLk/s320/Library+-+0060.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101750536908798578" /></a><br /><br />This photo also does not do justice to the situation happening. All 8 kids decided to see who could scream the loudest - at the same time. Notice one of the girls has her ears covered! It was really loud.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0PFkUbeoI/AAAAAAAAAC0/4EgpguKdXEQ/s1600-h/Library+-+0057.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0PFkUbeoI/AAAAAAAAAC0/4EgpguKdXEQ/s320/Library+-+0057.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101750541203765890" /></a><br /><br />It was an unschooling family event, and true to form, everone was up for a late-night spontanious walk to the beach. It was a perfect ending to our party.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-8514021017832124680?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263084819575922988.post-33692136965968613832007-08-12T21:00:00.000-07:002007-08-22T21:28:36.504-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0Ml0UbekI/AAAAAAAAACU/UWjnmp4zZvI/s1600-h/Library+-+0118.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0Ml0UbekI/AAAAAAAAACU/UWjnmp4zZvI/s320/Library+-+0118.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101747796719663682" /></a><br /><br />Paxton and Caleb created this amazing artwork. It proudly hangs above our kitchen entryway. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0MmEUbelI/AAAAAAAAACc/NX71_6LVWvU/s1600-h/Library+-+0114.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aWQwc_QH2BU/Rs0MmEUbelI/AAAAAAAAACc/NX71_6LVWvU/s320/Library+-+0114.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101747801014630994" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6263084819575922988-3369213696596861383?l=unprocessedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MOM: UNPROCESSEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02864737275679813235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,199