tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71009421379939203522024-03-12T19:23:35.783-07:00Embrace your placeSometimes life is hard. Sometimes life gives you lemons when you just wanted chocolate...Ya know what i do when that happens? I TALK about it...Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-30781435405066366592016-07-08T12:43:00.003-07:002016-07-08T13:33:08.590-07:00One doesn't represent them all.Like about 90% of our nation, my heart is heavy today. My mind is whirling and my burden is great.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Upon hearing of the most recent news this morning, i have found myself desperate to read the right thing, find the right words, or make sense of it all.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But i can't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As i sat and watched my kids swimming lessons this morning, i tried to pondered which side i was on, what each side was feeling, where our future is headed. I sat in the stands and thought about the Green Bay Packers shirt that i was wearing. Its a beautiful green with words that say "They hate us cause they ain't us". And i felt out of place. I thought that in a sea of Minnesotans nobody wants to see green and yellow. I know this because this year i experienced my first taste of my own racism. It took place at Target field, and it was against the Canadians. But still.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When they stood up and cheered as their SECOND batter hit one out of the park in the FIRST inning at OUR stadium. I felt a rage inside of me. I thought i might want that whole stinking row of ugly blue and white jerseys to fall over the second level balcony. Bye, Bye Kanucks! I felt it. I felt like, don't you dare come into MY house and throw that home run in my face. Its you 6 versus all of us, buddy. You lose no matter what.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Actually, we lost. By alot. I'm over it though, i swear.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was a great reminder to me of my love for the Packers in a Vikings state. Yes, i love them. I support them. I wear their colors. But I'll never hoot an holler for them, (like a Kanuck!) in front of a Viking fan out of spite. Because this is Vikings territory. And i want to be respectful of that. I want to win because my team is better than yours (obviously). Nothing more.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We don't need mouths to win. Just talent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The reason this relates to today is because i felt what it was to 1.) Be out of place. And 2.) to not like someone who wasn't like me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its not exactly like racism, but kind of.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its a foundation.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So as i sat in the gym i thought about what i would do if i was black. I'd follow the rules. I'd atc like they wanted me to act. I'd be polite.I'd listen. I wouldn't question. I 'd be quiet. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
....I'd act white.....</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And there it was.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think its important to say this. We aren't all the same. Can't we just acknowledge that?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Do we have to pretend we are?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Different isn't better or worse. Its different.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Our cultures, as i have watched, are different.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So how does that translate to killing one another?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can't figure it out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know there is so much that is taboo these days. Things i say can get turned around and used against me. Someone can peg me for a racism. But i am only trying to start from a point of honesty.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can't we just be different?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Don't we all have a few rotten eggs in our culture? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its doesn't make the rest bad though, does it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Some officers are corrupt. Yes. Some criminals are black. Yes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But is it our color or uniform that define us?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Isn't it our integrity? Our foundation? Our respect for our fellow countryman? Our love for one another?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I hate this.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The black community is in despair. Clearly. </div>
<div>
Crying out to be heard. Understandably.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But after last nights very intentional and calculated killings of police officers, how can one show that community sympathy!?<br />
<br />
It makes my blood boil.<br />
<br />
Two wrongs do <i>not</i> make a right. So now what?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I keep trying to remind myself that each person is an individual and they are not defined by anything else.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Black, white, uniformed, or otherwise.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We can't change that we're white any more than they can change that they're black. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It just is what it is.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Neither is better.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And its no ones fault.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As i drove home from swimming, i saw a police officer. My heart broke a little. I wanted to offer my sympathies and tell him i was on his side. That i know they rush in when we need them. That each traffic stop could be their last. That the pressure that is on them is overwhelming and that i acknowledge it and appreciate it. That Blue lives matter.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But i couldn't. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I won't lie, i thought about what will happen the next time i get pulled over and how stinking respectful and slow moving I'm going to be. It made me think about how i would feel if i were black, or raising a black child.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There's no doubt its a concern.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And if I'm honest, a piece of me is thankful that I'm not.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its the truth. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I raise my kids to be respectful. Especially to our military and our police. On 4th of July i was getting after Junior for using the word "cop" instead of police officer, because i didn't like the sound of it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Those who protect us rank high.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When Junior says "Uh oh, a cops gonna get me!" I immediately take him by the arm and tell him that the officers <i>protect</i> us. They don't<i> get us</i>. They<i> protect </i>us. When we need them, <i>they come. </i> <i>There's not a question about it!</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And yet, here two black men lay dead, for reasons that look glaringly wrong and unjust.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We don't <i>know</i> what transpired between Philando and that officer, because the recording didn't happen until <i>after</i> the shots were fired. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I <i>do</i> know that the police officer was most certainly on the verge of hysterics when he screamed out. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I just don't think we can say for certain why. If it was race based or out of fear for his life. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As for Mr. Sterling, from what i saw on that video-there was zero justification for shooting him.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its sickening.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But is this a black and white problem~or a (sinful) human problem?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Have we gone so far off the deep end and are so afraid to offend or be honest, that we're all on the verge of snapping?!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can we stand for nothing anymore without being labeled?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>I hate this.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And i felt myself falling prey to it. I thought, as i watched my kids today, should i tell them? Is this a moment that i can teach them? Or will my prejudices be obvious. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't like disrespect. Period. Especially to an authority figure. A parent, a coach, and officer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm a rule follower by nature and when i have respect for an authority figure, i listen. If someone told me, "Don't move!" I wouldn't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But how can we trust those who are sworn to protect us when we see videos of bad cops doing horrible things?</div>
<div>
<br />
We do it because our trust isn't in <i>man.</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Our trust is in God</i>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And that means we have to trust the system.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We believe that there is good in this world. Not all <i>police officers</i> are bad and not all <i>people of ethnicity </i>are bad.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have to keep telling myself that so I don't fall into the trap of<i> hating a whole group over a few bad apples</i>. On <i>either</i> side.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the movie 'Lone Survivor' i am constantly reminded of the glaring contradiction of racism and hating a whole group because of a few.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When that team of Seals are faced with a predicament on that hill when some Afghans find them, they're faced with a difficult decision on what to do with them. Kill them? Release them? Or tie them up and leave?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I remember that moment so vividly in that movie because i know what i would do. I felt a hatred, in honor of our troops, for the middle eastern people. <i>How could they?</i> I thought. They're <i>all </i>bad.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its embarrassing, but I've thought it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But as the movie progresses and Marcus survives--only barely--due to the<i> fierce protection </i>and <i>dedication of a peace-loving</i> <i>tribe</i> of Afghanistan's, i am<i> always</i> reminded that a person is an <i>individual</i>,<i> not a whole culture.</i><br />
<br />
Its is a great reminder of how one group can try to destroy, while another group--of that same ethnicity or belief system--can put their lives on the line~for man.<br />
<br />
And its on my mind today.<br />
<br />
We are called to love.<br />
<br />
And i want to love.<br />
<br />
At Starbucks today my favorite barista, whom i love, who happens to be black, helped me. As i waited in line, chatting with her, i also watched as the pharmacist, who is kind, funny, and brilliant, and also black, sat behind me.<br />
<br />
I wanted so badly to look into their eyes and to say i was<i> sorry.</i> I was sorry for what they feel that i will never understanding. I was sorry for an oppression that i am not even aware of.<br />
<br />
I was sorry for the few bad, in a world of good.<br />
<br />
On both of our sides.<br />
<br />
This is the great United States of America. We are a team. Let us not fight against one another, but stand side by side. For the love of something greater. For belief in a system. A system that, although skewed and at times unjust to the human eye, is in the hands of a<i> very Mighty and Capable God</i>. He's not up there sleeping on some throne: <i>He's here with us</i>. Each and every day.<br />
<br />
Today, as i prayed so desperately for our nation, i also prayed that it wouldn't take a greater tragedy to pull us together once again, but that He would continue to knock and that we would run to invite Him into our lives.<br />
<br />
Revelations 3:20 "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me." <br />
<br />
Lord, please don't stop knocking.....<br />
<br />
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Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-72548223206978227082016-07-08T12:43:00.000-07:002016-07-08T13:00:55.577-07:00One doesn't represent them all.Like about 90% of our nation, my heart is heavy today. My mind is whirling and my burden is great.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Upon hearing of the most recent news this morning, i have found myself desperate to read the right thing, find the right words, or make sense of it all.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But i can't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As i sat and watched my kids swimming lessons this morning, i tried to pondered which side i was on, what each side was feeling, where our future is headed. I sat in the stands and thought about the Green Bay Packers shirt that i was wearing. Its a beautiful green with words that say "They hate us cause they ain't us". And i felt out of place. I thought that in a sea of Minnesotans nobody wants to see green and yellow. I know this because this year i experienced my first taste of my own racism. It took place at Target field, and it was against the Canadians. But still.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When they stood up and cheered as their SECOND batter hit one out of the park in the FIRST inning at OUR stadium. I felt a rage inside of me. I thought i might want that whole stinking row of ugly blue and white jerseys to fall over the second level balcony. Bye, Bye Kanucks! I felt it. I felt like, don't you dare come into MY house and throw that home run in my face. Its you 6 versus all of us, buddy. You lose no matter what.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Actually, we lost. By alot. I'm over it though, i swear.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was a great reminder to me of my love for the Packers in a Vikings state. Yes, i love them. I support them. I wear their colors. But i'll never hoot an hollar for them, (like a Kanuck!) in front of a Viking fan out of spite. Because this is Vikings territory. And i want to be respectful of that. I want to win because my team is better than yours (obviously). Nothing more.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We don't need mouths to win. Just talent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The reason this relates to today is because i felt what it was to 1.) Be out of place. And 2.) to not like someone who wasn't like me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its not exactly like racism, but kind of.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its a foundation.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So as i sat in the gym i thought about what i would do if i was black. I'd follow the rules. I'd atc like they wanted me to act. I'd be polite.I'd listen. I wouldn't question. I 'd be quiet. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
....I'd act white.....</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And there it was.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think its important to say this. We aren't all the same. Can't we just acknowledge that?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Do we have to pretend we are?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Different isn't better or worse. Its different.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Our cultures, as i have watched, are different.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So how does that translate to killing one another?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can't figure it out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know there is so much that is taboo these days. Things i say can get turned around and used against me. Someone can peg me for a racism. But i am only trying to start from a point of honesty.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can't we just be different?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Don't we all have a few rotten eggs in our culture? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its doesn't make the rest bad though, does it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Some officers are corrupt. Yes. Some criminals are black. Yes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But is it our color or uniform that define us?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Isn't it our integrity? Our foundation? Our respect for our fellow countryman? Our love for one another?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I hate this.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The black community is in despair. Clearly. </div>
<div>
Crying out to be heard. Understandably.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But after last nights very intentional and calculated killings of police officers, how can one show that community sympathy!?<br />
<br />
It makes my blood boil.<br />
<br />
Two wrongs do <i>not</i> make a right. So now what?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I keep trying to remind myself that each person is an individual and they are not defined by anything else.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Black, white, uniformed, or otherwise.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We can't change that we're white any more than they can change that they're black. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It just is what it is.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Neither is better.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And its no ones fault.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As i drove home from swimming, i saw a police officer. My heart broke a little. I wanted to offer my sympathies and tell him i was on his side. That i know they rush in when we need them. That each traffic stop could be their last. That the pressure that is on them is overwhelming and that i acknowledge it and appreciate it. That Blue lives matter.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But i couldn't. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I won't lie, i thought about what will happen the next time i get pulled over and how stinking respectful and slow moving i'm going to be. It made me think about how i would feel if i were black, or raising a black child.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There's no doubt its a concern.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And if i'm honest, a piece of me is thankful that i'm not.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its the truth. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I raise my kids to be respectful. Especially to our military and our police. On 4th of July i was getting after Junior for using the word "cop" instead of police officer, because i didn't like the sound of it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Those who protect us rank high.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When Junior says "Uh oh, a cops gonna get me!" I immediately take him by the arm and tell him that the officers <i>protect</i> us. They don't<i> get us</i>. They<i> protect </i>us. When we need them, <i>they come. </i> There's not a question about it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And yet, here two black men lay dead, for reasons that look glaringly wrong and unjust.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We don't <i>know</i> what transpired between Philando and that officer, because the recording didn't happen until <i>after</i> the shots were fired. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I <i>do</i> know that the police officer was most certainly on the verge of hysterics when he screamed out. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I just don't think we can say for certain why. If it was race based or out fear for his life. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As for Mr. Sterling, from what i saw on that video-there was zero justification for shooting him.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its sickening.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But is this a black and white problem~or a (sinful) human problem?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Have we gone so far off the deep end and are so afraid to offend or be honest, that we're all on the verge of snapping?!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can we stand for nothing anymore without being labeled?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>I hate this.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And i felt myself falling prey to it. I thought, as i watched my kids today, should i tell them? Is this a moment that i can teach them? Or will my prejudices be obvious. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't like disrespect. Period. Especially to an authority figure. A parent, a coach, and officer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm a rule follower by nature and when i have respect for an authority figure, i listen. If someone told me, "Don't move!" I wouldn't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But how can we trust those who are sworn to protect us when we see videos of bad cops doing horrible things?</div>
<div>
<br />
We do it because our trust isn't in <i>man.</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Our trust is in God</i>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And that means we have to trust the system.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We believe that there is good in this world. Not all <i>police officers</i> are bad and not all <i>people of ethnicity </i>are bad.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have to keep telling myself that so I don't fall into the trap of<i> hating a whole group over a few bad apples</i>. On <i>either</i> side.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the movie 'Lone Survivor' i am constantly reminded of the glaring contradiction of racism and hating a whole group because of a few.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When that team of Seals are faced with a predicament on that hill when some Afghans find them, they're faced with a difficult decision on what to do with them. Kill them? Release them? Or tie them up and leave?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I remember that moment so vividly in that movie because i know what i would do. I felt a hatred, in honor of our troops, for the middle eastern people. <i>How could they?</i> I thought. They're <i>all </i>bad.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its embarrassing, but i thought it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But as the movie progresses and Marcus survives-only barely-due to the<i> fierce protection </i>and <i>dedication of a peace-loving</i> <i>tribe</i> of Afghanistans: i am<i> always</i> reminded that a person is an <i>individual</i>,<i> not a whole culture.</i><br />
<br />
Its is my greatest reminder of how one group can try to destroy, while another group-of the same ethnicity or belief system-can put their lives on the line: for the greater good.<br />
<br />
And its on my mind today.<br />
<br />
We are called to love.<br />
<br />
And i want to love.<br />
<br />
At Starbucks today, my favorite barista, whom i love, who happens to be black, helped me. As i waited in line, chatting with her, i alsoi watched as the pharmacist, who is kind, funny, and wonderful, and also black, sat behind me.<br />
<br />
I wanted so badly to look into their eyes and to say i was<i> sorry.</i> I was sorry for what they feel that i will never understanding. Sorry for an oppression that i am not even aware of.<br />
<br />
I was sorry for the few bad, in a world of good.<br />
<br />
On both of our sides.<br />
<br />
This is the great United States of America. We are a team. Let us not fight against one another, but stand side by side. For the love of something greater.<br />
<br />
Today, as i prayed so desperately for our nation, i also prayed that it wouldn't take a greater tragedy to pull us together once again, but that He would continue to knock and that we would run to invite Him into our lives.<br />
<br />
Revelations 3:20 "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me." <br />
<br />
Lord, please don't stop knocking.....<br />
<br />
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Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-11429374659549746102015-11-12T10:44:00.000-08:002015-11-12T10:52:14.529-08:00Paging Dr. Leo Marvin.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1WwmurJSwevqN_Wl6mWDL9FwNignjVEdYNZI6DVCXKKmYr53LmSAT-2L11DnmmNoxafUkDF_7JwQdKx-k1pGG32RIpNkwcR8NmGN_z0s69i0MnOvQTzaMN8D1KShXnXzVY3doLlMM0fO/s1600/freaking+out.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a>
<br />
A really big part of my adult life, i've found myself asking the same question, "Isn't it <i>okay</i> to just be different?"<br />
<br />
As i've tried to make my way through the sea of life, to swim <i>with</i> the crowd of other adults but i've always felt a little like i didn't belong.<br />
<br />
And i never just felt so assured about myself that that didn't bother me.<br />
<br />
I am constantly questioning and wondering. I'm never content in the way that i think i've got it all (or anything, really) figured out.<br />
<br />
Except movies. Obviously i know good TV. I mean, come on.<br />
<br />
But as far as "grown up" stuff. I've just never fully settled into it.<br />
<br />
Do we have to be quiet in groups?<br />
<br />
Can't we laugh 90% of the time?<br />
<br />
Is it bad to keep being self depreciating for the love of a good joke?<br />
<br />
House work, homework, wife work, mom work.<br />
<br />
Its all hard for me.<br />
<br />
Does it really matter how organized our closets are? If you've got shoes to wear, isn't that all that matters?<br />
<br />
Who cares whats behind the curtain.<br />
<br />
But here's the thing, almost everyone cares whats behind the curtain.<br />
<br />
But i just don't.<br />
<br />
I like to have fun, i like to laugh, i like to ignore work in lue of conversations.<br />
<br />
And yet, at the heart of my big, loud being i silently wonder, <i>"is it wrong to be different</i>?"<br />
<br />
I've beat myself over the head trying to change to convert to adult. I just think my "adult" might look different than some other people's adult.<br />
<br />
And that's okay?<br />
<br />
Without going into details but with acknowledging that i have like the coolest friends in the universe, i'll tell you a quick tale of what sent me into my recent "adult" talespin.<br />
<br />
My friends husband bought her and i tickets to Florida, rented us a car, and booked us a hotel.<br />
<br />
No strings attached. Happy Birthday friend, lets jet outta here.<br />
<br />
I'm sure your mouths are watering right now with jealousy. Cause you're normal!!<br />
<br />
But me.....i began to sweat.<br />
<br />
And panic.<br />
<br />
And possibly feel a touch of atrial fibrillation come on.<br />
<br />
24 hours after this honeymoon of a friendship gift was booked.....i flipped-a-lid.<br />
I'm talking full on cuckoo bird hyperventilation!<br />
<br />
I didn't have alot of people around me saying "Go! Have fun. Don't worry." I felt stressed by others opinions and afraid to leave my family.<br />
<br />
Thankfully my friend has a tiny case of the cuckoo's herself, so she understood and didn't yell at me in my delicate time of lunacy.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1WwmurJSwevqN_Wl6mWDL9FwNignjVEdYNZI6DVCXKKmYr53LmSAT-2L11DnmmNoxafUkDF_7JwQdKx-k1pGG32RIpNkwcR8NmGN_z0s69i0MnOvQTzaMN8D1KShXnXzVY3doLlMM0fO/s1600/freaking+out.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1WwmurJSwevqN_Wl6mWDL9FwNignjVEdYNZI6DVCXKKmYr53LmSAT-2L11DnmmNoxafUkDF_7JwQdKx-k1pGG32RIpNkwcR8NmGN_z0s69i0MnOvQTzaMN8D1KShXnXzVY3doLlMM0fO/s320/freaking+out.gif" width="320" /></a>After many wackadoo texts that usually started out by quoting the line that was playing, on a loop, in my mind from the movie "Super Troopers" i let her know that i was "Freaking out, man!" and she finally gave me the "okay" to call the airline and request the money back. <br />
<br />
Although it was now 25 hours after booking, and they said they wouldn't refund us.<br />
<br />
But, when fear has its grip on me, i'm like a cat trying to claw your eye balls out as you attempt to set it into a tub of water.<br />
<br />
There just was<i> NO</i> way i wasn't gonna make this happen. Done and done.<br />
<br />
And after three hours on the phone with India, a possible brain embolism, and 6 technicians later.......<i>the money was refunded</i>.<br />
<br />
(you can go ahead an pick your jaws up off the floor now. Yes, i THREW AWAY a friend filled, kid free all inclusive 4 day trip to Florida.)<br />
<br />
And here's where i start to feel bad. <br />
<br />
Although i am SUPER happy to be able to breath without feeling like i am going to have a nervous breakdown today, i wonder <i>what in the H. E double hockey sticks is my problem?</i><br />
<br />
I do stuff like this <i>alot.</i><br />
<br />
I complain about house work and yet i can't seem to leave my house.<br />
<br />
I get stressed with school work and the kids, and yet that's the only place i ever want to be.<br />
<br />
The beach sounds amazing......but how can i get there? <i>Not a plane</i>, i'll tell you that!<br />
<br />
I felt myself spiraling last night. I knew i was going down, and i knew it was going to be bad.<br />
<br />
I didn't want to talk to anyone, i felt like a loser. And i questioned my mental status. (but that for another time and another place.)<br />
<br />
But like i told my amazing friend (who shockingly still likes me and we have since made other amazing plans: IN THIS STATE), those feelings last night were<i> real.</i> It wasn't just me being scared. It was all consuming and unfortunately its what makes me<i> me</i>. The crazy. I knew no matter what, i couldn't fly out of here next week. But i also know that that plane will land safely and those people will have a great vacation.<br />
<br />
But that just not for me.<br />
<br />
And is that okay?<br />
<br />
Why can't i just <i>DO</i> stuff. Its weird.<br />
<br />
I can't explain it, but i sure can feel the pull to keep my feet on solid ground.<br />
<br />
Forever and ever. Amen.<br />
<br />
I went to the gym to try to sweat this feeling out. But it didn't help.<br />
<br />
I didn't want to talk on the phone. I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted to be alone. To mourn my life. And the inability that i have to take risks. Or trips. Or drive south of 694. Whatever.<br />
<br />
And as it goes our pity parties can spiral real low, real fast.<br />
<br />
Like what is my<i> purpose</i> here? I literally can't do anything. I kind of just fail at all things "normal."<br />
<br />
I'm not like everybody else. Period. I'm constantly influenced by others thoughts, opinions, and feelings on things i do. I just don't want to blaze through life and run people over. I don't wanna say "<i>not my problem</i>" when someone doesn't agree with my choices. And yet, its that exact same concern for others feeling that has been my downfall. Insert chicken with her head cut off here!<br />
<br />
<i>I just care about <b>every</b> little thing that<b> every </b>person close to me says<b> </b>and does at <b>every</b> moment of <b>every</b> day, Dangit!!! </i> That's all. Whats the big deal about that?<br />
<br />
Its a vicious cycle i tell you.<br />
<br />
As i drove home, in a daze, trying to process all this garbage in my head, i ended up at my faithful little Ham Lake library.<br />
<br />
And after 24 hours of an intense stress that is so abnormal, over something that seems so perfectly exciting and amazing, i was emotionally and physically spent.<br />
<br />
Like a total turkey.<br />
<br />
To be honest i just kind of felt like a loser.<br />
<br />
But then i entered my library.<br />
<br />
Where i noticed the librarian got a hair cut.<br />
<br />
"Hey, did you get your hair cut!?" i asked her as i entered.<br />
<br />
"Oh, yes....i did." she said.<br />
<br />
"Wow! It looks really nice." i said as we chatted some more..<br />
<br />
And that's the<i> exact</i> moment, right there in my sweaty gym pants and 4H sweatshirt, that i realized that i was <i>okay.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Maybe i'm not meant for great big things. Maybe i won't be the worlds best (or even on the level of normal) traveler.<br />
<br />
But for me, right there in that moment, i knew: <i>If i could just make<b> one</b> person happy. Bring a smile to <b>one</b> persons face. </i>That was enough.<br />
<br />
That. was. enough.<br />
<br />
I belong here in this small town. My small little space of life.<br />
<br />
And i think.....i am actually starting to think......that maybe that's <i>okay.</i><br />
<br />
Its not Florida or a white sandy beach, <i>its better. </i><br />
<br />
I want to be happy in life. And i guess, no matter how hard i try, i can't make somebody else's 'happy place' mine. I've got to get through the rough stuff in order to know how to find the good stuff.<br />
<br />
Baby steps.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>(ps. My friend is awesome and i will love her till the day i die.)</i><br />
<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-70272599542511530012015-09-18T11:30:00.001-07:002015-09-19T06:25:22.431-07:00"Go."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvz4n8PNy5jZYfm9z1chMdsKCAA06LlQUvmDNQQ9_-QVqPn0JJqFUzUyAmVwobVA-obNVbrXiYQPopitAhOf9QKGi1ZGvxVks5cdEzC8If71uB5sp6jntSzDc9NrEiVk5jW6WRsMzSMvV/s1600/editedschool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvz4n8PNy5jZYfm9z1chMdsKCAA06LlQUvmDNQQ9_-QVqPn0JJqFUzUyAmVwobVA-obNVbrXiYQPopitAhOf9QKGi1ZGvxVks5cdEzC8If71uB5sp6jntSzDc9NrEiVk5jW6WRsMzSMvV/s320/editedschool.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I'm giving myself exactly 30 minutes to write this~and then its back to laundry, i promise.<br />
<br />
Last night, we had a bit of drama at our house.<br />
<br />
Our perfect and improving little adorable angel of a boy, Junior, wanted chips.<br />
<br />
This is where the trouble begins.<br />
<br />
Jeromy told him he could have some after he finished all of his chicken. I had run to the post office and was home shortly after this conversation took place.<br />
<br />
As i was inside the house Junior yells to me that he wants chips.<br />
<br />
To which i say, "You had chips for lunch, Junior, you can't only eat chips. No."<br />
<br />
He insists that Dad said he could. We go back and forth a bit until i finally say, "if you want chips, you have to eat a yogurt first?" Not the worst punishment in the world, right?<br />
<br />
Wrong.<br />
<br />
Upon hearing my heart breaking news, Junior <i>flipped</i>.<br />
<br />
I'm talking full on meltdown. Like tantrum throwing, door slamming, "you're the worst Mom in the world!" explosion.<br />
<br />
My boy. My little angel. My buddy.<br />
<br />
Yelling at me.<br />
<br />
I wasn't gonna give in though.<br />
<br />
If he wanted chips bad enough, he'd have to eat yogurt<i> first.</i> Period. End of discussion.<br />
<br />
I went downstairs got on the computer to fill out some stuff. And as i'm doing this i hear him stomping around. Only shortly after do i hear him coming down the stairs~ looking for me.<br />
<br />
He was crying and sniffling the whole way.<br />
<br />
My boy, my little angel, came to find me to tell me that i was the "<i>worst</i>" and that he wanted to live with someone else.<br />
<br />
I turned to him and said, "Okay. Who are you going to live with?"<br />
<br />
He thought a moment and answered, angrily, "UNCLE!"<br />
<br />
I nodded and said, "okay."<br />
<br />
Then he went on to tell me how much nicer it would be with him. And i agreed and said "Okay, go."<br />
<br />
He marched right back upstairs and proceeded to get his shoes on.<br />
<br />
At that moment, Ruby started to panic, asking him "Where are YOU going!?"<br />
<br />
Junior informed her that he was leaving. And i heard them begin to discuss this and when he finally went out the front door, Ruby screamed to me and Jeromy that Junior was leaving and that we <i>had</i> to get him!<br />
<br />
Then i heard Jeromy get up and walk to the door and tell her that he could go if he wanted. Let him be. To which, she flipped a lid. Like, <i>flipped</i> it. (i'm starting to think it may just be in the genes.)<br />
<br />
Now she's yelling/screaming at Jeromy that <i>he's</i> the worst ever and proceeded to call him any name she could think of, all while she panicked about Junior leaving.<br />
<br />
Finally it got bad enough that i had to stomp up the stairs to give her the what for.<br />
<br />
Both Laney and Ruby were itching to go outside to get Junior. Panicking.<br />
<br />
We assured the girls that obviously he wouldn't leave and we loved him and were going to get him. We tried to calm them down. (and then i took this moment to remind her to remember this feeling the next time she tells him that he <i>can't</i> play with her.)<br />
<br />
As i looked out my front door, i saw the saddest little scene that my heart has ever seen.<br />
<br />
My boy. My precious little angel, was standing at the very end of our driveway, in the rain, hood up, shoulders hunched, facing the street. Just waiting.<br />
<br />
Every now and then i'd see him turn around to look back at the house, in hopes of rescue.<br />
<br />
But both Jeromy and I were ready to let him sit there for a few minutes. To teach him a little lesson on making threats.<br />
<br />
As Jeromy peeked out the kitchen window, i peeked out the front door.<br />
<br />
Watching as my boy -my sad, sad boy- stood weeping in the rain, wanting to run away.<br />
<br />
About three minutes in, i couldn't <i>TAKE</i> it anymore. I thought my heart was gong to physically break in two.<br />
<br />
From the moment that i slipped on my shoes to looking back at the window, he disappeared. I yelled to Jeromy, asking if he saw where he went. He started scanning down the street and couldn't see him either.<br />
<br />
I pulled my hood up and trudged out in the rain to find my little run-away baby.<br />
<br />
As i got outside i could hear a faint cry, a whimper coming from somewhere close. But i couldn't <i>find</i> him. I checked in the camper. The truck. The van. The garage.<br />
<br />
Then <i>i</i> panicked.<br />
<br />
My tiny little new born left and the last thing i said to him was, <i>"Go."</i><br />
<br />
Go?! I officially <i>was</i> the worst.<br />
<br />
I knew he was just sad and all it would take was me getting down on his level and asking him if he was having a bad day. That always did it. He always broke and cried and hugged me and reminded me that he<i> had,</i> in-fact, had a bad day. It was precious. And i knew he just needed him Momma to hug him.<br />
<br />
But where<i> was</i> he?<br />
<br />
By now, Ruby and Laney are outside beside me.<br />
<br />
And just as i go to look behind the house, my little teary eyed cherub, comes around the house, weeping in the rain.<br />
<br />
He stopped when he saw me, and i stopped when i saw him.<br />
<br />
"My boy." i said, as i opened my arms to him.<br />
<br />
Soaked from the rain, hood over his darling little head, and red rimmed eyes, he ran to me and i scooped him up.<br />
<br />
And he just started to cry.<br />
<br />
"Where were you<i> going</i>?" I whispered.<br />
<br />
"<i>Dad said Go! ......he told me to go</i>". He weeped.<br />
<br />
I hugged him close as the girls came around to find us, now on the porch.<br />
<br />
"Did you have a hard day today, buddy?"<br />
<br />
"Y-e-s-s-s-s". he said, burying his little head in my neck.<br />
<br />
I went on to tell him that no matter where he was or what he did, that Momma would <i>always</i> love him and would <i>never </i>stop looking for him.<br />
<br />
I told him how when he left, it broke my heart a little.<br />
<br />
As we held each other and i soothed his tears..................<i>he asked me for chips.</i><br />
<br />
But before i could even answer, as if a gift from God, Laney broke the silence yelling out "Mom!! A red squirrel!" <br />
<br />
Instantly the drama of the day came to an end. I immediately set Junior down, ran to get the gun and raced back to the kids, who were now circling the pine tree trying to keep an eye on its path.<br />
<br />
Jeromy was already up the tree trying to spook the squirrel enough to get it to move from its invisible bunker. <br />
<br />
Within moments the gun was locked and loaded, the kids had found the squirrel, Jeromy was shaking the tree that he was now 20 feet into and like a bat out of you-know-what, that squirrel jumped from the top of the tree into oblivion. We watched with awe as it sailed-almost as if in slow motion-across the sky, at the last moment managing to grab another branch from another tree if only by the hair of its chinny-chin-chin.<br />
<br />
And just like that, as quickly as it had come into our night,<i> it disappeared</i>. Along with all the tears, drama and hurt.<br />
<br />
You never know how united you are as a family until a red squirrel crosses your path. And then, like beautiful, beautiful clock work, you move as one. A team. A beautiful-crazy-little-dramatic team.<br />
<br />
Yesterday you lived, squirrel and for that, i say T<i>hank You. </i><br />
<br />
As for today:<i> i make no promises.</i><br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-50000911703715967832015-07-16T12:25:00.000-07:002015-07-16T13:08:59.647-07:00Be different.<div>
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This week, as i sat in the turn lane, feeling a bit <strike>blah</strike>,<strike> dull</strike> off, I thought to myself, <i>What did i do today that was any different than the person in the car beside me?</i></div>
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I was thinking as a Christian. </div>
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Shouldn't we be so different than the world?</div>
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I mean, i think we all know that answer is yes. But....<i>are we?</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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I was in a bit of a brain funk. I felt out of sorts and frustrated--with myself.</div>
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<div>
Its like i knew that the Jesus shaped hole in my heart was crying out this week.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It needed to be refueled. And i knew only time with Jesus could do that.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But as i sat at that light, i thought, what <i>am</i> i doing differently. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Other than saying our opinions <i>in a big way</i> on issues that are very political, very hot and very <i>now.</i> </div>
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<br /></div>
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And can't we point a finger with the best of 'em?</div>
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<br /></div>
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But why?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Seriously, why do (some) Christian do that?<br />
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We're like a generation of eternal <i>children</i>. But when will we finally take up responsibility for <i>ourselves</i> and stop whining about <i>who done us wrong</i>?</div>
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Its like we have these foundations of,<i> my parents are Christians</i> or<i> I went to church every day as a kid</i>. Or<i> i learned it once so now i know everything </i>(and can judge everyone).</div>
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Why aren't we actively moving closer to Christ? Intentionally seeking Him out in a day.</div>
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We can be so smiley and kind until someone bumps into our <i>joy</i>, our <i>comfort,</i> or our <i>happy</i>.</div>
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What do we do when we disagree? Do we belittle? Are we condescending? Is patronizing the way to the cross? Do we show kindness to people even when we are angry? </div>
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<i>What do we do that is different?</i></div>
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All in life is rainbows and sunshine....until it isn't.</div>
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I know so many people that are so wonderful and kind and smiley and joyful. Others think they are brilliantly loving.</div>
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But, i've rubbed elbows with them behind closed doors and i think--Yea, they're great,<i> until ya cross 'em.</i></div>
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We'd be amazed by what others have witnesses in private. The claws come out when we are challenged.</div>
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Opinions are huge. People defend their own beliefs so strongly that they would<i> hurt</i> every cause that they stood for <i>just</i> to prove a point or win an argument. </div>
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And heres what i keep going back to: What are we doing that is so different from the ones we don't like?</div>
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Those "sinners" whose sins are<i> so</i> obvious, are they worse than us? Or are we better than them?</div>
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Or do we get up and put our pants on one leg at a time~doing nothing different. Never looking up.</div>
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What makes us different?</div>
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Are we fishers of men or are we getting up, checking our computer, having a coffee and heading out the door?</div>
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I'm talking to myself here.</div>
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Because i know my heart needs a change.</div>
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With the kids home and the schedule ever changing (or forever the same) i need to start my day out right.</div>
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I need to read God's word. And just by doing it these past days as i lay in bed in the morning, i can honestly say i feel refreshed.</div>
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Starting my day talking with God is <i>so good.</i></div>
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It sets my path straight when i normally want to run sideways.</div>
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And<i> that's </i>what's<i> </i>been laying so heavy on my heart these past few weeks. </div>
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<i>What are<b> we</b> doing differently than the ones we judge?</i></div>
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Do we rely on past knowledge, old answers, hidden nuggets of info in the deepest parts of our brain? </div>
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Or are we actively seeking God's word? Are we asking for wisdom and praying for those who persecute us?</div>
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'Cause i gotta be honest, these days--i feel like i've got a lot of persecutors. Each in different ways. And if i'm being real honest, i'm not strong enough to deal with any of it on my own. I'll break. I'll snap. I'll probably say mean words. I have.</div>
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I need God's love. I need to actively seek out God each morning and ask Him to take these burdens. Ask Him to love me when i feel unlovable. Ask Him to be my defender. Ask him to put a root of love in my heart so that when i do bump into someones happy--i don't steal it. I can maneuver it with the skill and grace that only He can provide.</div>
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Lord, i know we stink down here sometimes. I am sure you shake your head more often than we know. But thank you for never giving up on us, even when you see us (confidently) going in the wrong direction.</div>
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What are we doing on<i> earth</i> (right now) that is displaying a life that is<i> heaven bound?</i></div>
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I want to be different. </div>
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When given the choice between being right or being kind, i want to choose<b> kind.</b></div>
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Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-21681200361479450232015-06-30T14:44:00.003-07:002015-06-30T14:51:56.609-07:00My jelly jam taleGood afternoooon!!! (i said it like Oprah would say it. So read it with that same enthusiasm, wouldya?)<br />
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I've had a great day!!!</div>
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Which is funny, cause i don't normally.</div>
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Ha!</div>
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I've been under the weather of late. So......the fact that i can be vertical and actually swallow water too?? </div>
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Best. Day. Ever.</div>
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Most days i have a "tentative" schedule and kind of rush to get my stuff done.</div>
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Like, rush to rest so i can hurry and look out the window. Take a quick bath so i can speedily read a book before dinner.</div>
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You know, important stuff like that.</div>
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But today....</div>
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Today, we just started slow and (even thought we hit a few bumps) refused to rush or panic.</div>
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We were going to the berry farm. No matter what time we got there.</div>
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After making a quick run to Cambridge, because a certain someone took my last check without my knowing, i got some cash and turned back towards Isanti.</div>
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I may have missed a road and totally went out of the way and then had to turn around and back track...but i didn't care.</div>
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I was breathing oxygen, people!! That's all i needed.</div>
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We picked berries today. It was fun. Quick. And easy. I mean, my kids were so good they could actually be professional illegal immigrants. Ya, that's how good they were.</div>
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(Oh thats funny. Don't be offended.)</div>
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So we picked.<span id="goog_63531988"></span><span id="goog_63531989"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhti3w-I7fcNSTAs8fLi5lGGC4Diw5QJSoOodA5mrmmmlfGcabTK_I_0pLiujTGMqQ2JvDO9pbUYgQGNGgrsIMLIp2GDjaVp2qN7rJ-2E7sZX8SMHd9nM_aFWpkKctE0_g_MFDXlG_v_3Gx/s1600/edited4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhti3w-I7fcNSTAs8fLi5lGGC4Diw5QJSoOodA5mrmmmlfGcabTK_I_0pLiujTGMqQ2JvDO9pbUYgQGNGgrsIMLIp2GDjaVp2qN7rJ-2E7sZX8SMHd9nM_aFWpkKctE0_g_MFDXlG_v_3Gx/s320/edited4.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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And we had fun!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61KiYgIsLduKmTszemEjw2qIQRrmPQVceT3rvSwUNMqBODvurmCJm8fVGzhjfwVm6UJ6BXHgRzTEX6wgSSTubl3_5KA61EG6WxRh7iOyK_GaM7X-drm2NYzMpxbe_WJQET3zgUTrgoSYq/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg61KiYgIsLduKmTszemEjw2qIQRrmPQVceT3rvSwUNMqBODvurmCJm8fVGzhjfwVm6UJ6BXHgRzTEX6wgSSTubl3_5KA61EG6WxRh7iOyK_GaM7X-drm2NYzMpxbe_WJQET3zgUTrgoSYq/s320/blog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And then we paid.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0vjMM3zZSlpHeTpbpp8TPGlJaPOdDYOHlTt6lqAv3i3PLoGb8d5gYwGIiBmqsuAXzoEoJMGGse6EdUilKBNftrCECRLJTWq7I16-U75ZDcMpdRB8jDyV048sHSlAYVe_Zqz2CkHYc9ts/s1600/edited1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0vjMM3zZSlpHeTpbpp8TPGlJaPOdDYOHlTt6lqAv3i3PLoGb8d5gYwGIiBmqsuAXzoEoJMGGse6EdUilKBNftrCECRLJTWq7I16-U75ZDcMpdRB8jDyV048sHSlAYVe_Zqz2CkHYc9ts/s320/edited1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And as we drove home talking and complimenting our amazingly impeccable picking skills, i felt happy.<br />
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It was just one of those days that <i>works.</i><br />
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So as they watched American Ninja Warrior and ate lunch i got the ol' idea that since today was so totally awesome that, what the heck, i was gonna make jam or jelly or whatever the heck one it was .And it was going to be glorious!<br />
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After i washed and cut up all the berries, i found a recipe and off i went....<br />
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It was so fun.<br />
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And i was so proud.<br />
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Cause i've never done this.<br />
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And yet, here i was, <i><b>doin' it</b>!</i><br />
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Yay!<br />
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Here's my left over berries after i crushed my 4 cups.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB12WvaQd-nPXMK6Q-mWjKeGhGQGebrFvvHdOcP1-PQJdMfPWneZZaA0o3YgfQP5FoT3Jz_jwT2zULf6K0-f8YUruuKINkumM4XPY3f66C5KDej4X2fN1Cvm4aGLNPFzrPWeXqF9qtD_KT/s1600/blog7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB12WvaQd-nPXMK6Q-mWjKeGhGQGebrFvvHdOcP1-PQJdMfPWneZZaA0o3YgfQP5FoT3Jz_jwT2zULf6K0-f8YUruuKINkumM4XPY3f66C5KDej4X2fN1Cvm4aGLNPFzrPWeXqF9qtD_KT/s320/blog7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here's my crushed berries.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOaHMYFE9fx5Rp8tb1irr5Zg7Vk7W4DN0VcRyIwYHM265BuE8F_Y8a0iBKzHSKl6upwIJ5dKcyAeJ0R1KidaTQZ9gBqnEMi_7cb1gnlw5dXVTkQUN2FtRLEOzIfCYj7KF-8qXPoz7kc006/s1600/blog6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOaHMYFE9fx5Rp8tb1irr5Zg7Vk7W4DN0VcRyIwYHM265BuE8F_Y8a0iBKzHSKl6upwIJ5dKcyAeJ0R1KidaTQZ9gBqnEMi_7cb1gnlw5dXVTkQUN2FtRLEOzIfCYj7KF-8qXPoz7kc006/s320/blog6.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Then you have to put them into a pot with lemon and sugar. And i just thought these colors were so beautiful that i wanted to share all 435 strawberry photos with you. Awww, i know. Its so nice.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYvcoi4ZpJNpwBTYsyST4XgY1NxyLjpwfH7eR1R8O6DXMd78fs_mNVojCyv0OoV7iq4ECfphhBEtmJri3eH39OudPjn86itWNchz7wLOkzvno8aiGk19AP9qMW_CXwmPodCZgfQ6BcXvn/s1600/blog5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYvcoi4ZpJNpwBTYsyST4XgY1NxyLjpwfH7eR1R8O6DXMd78fs_mNVojCyv0OoV7iq4ECfphhBEtmJri3eH39OudPjn86itWNchz7wLOkzvno8aiGk19AP9qMW_CXwmPodCZgfQ6BcXvn/s320/blog5.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Oooh, look!! Its boiling.<br />
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After boiling over once. Accidentally. And almost burning my hand off. Darn that tiny wooden spoon that i used. I finally, after blood, sweat and mucho thermometer reading, managed to get it to 220 degrees. Booyah! Drop the spoon. No literally....i accidentally dropped it into the jam. Durp!<br />
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That was a journey in itself, people.<br />
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Here is my little ol pot o' berries that i love like my own child.</div>
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You can't tell. But it tasted reaaaaal good at this point!</div>
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I was like,<i><b>"hold the phone!! My jelly-jam is phenomenal!!!"</b></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1JYyQxZA_z0TLbXR0AiyP4yQ-ZSRhSD2o9RQh9XcgA06oebXutZdglClJSeSjq5Sx5CaJb_H-BjlstV49CVzTQAGv3cXjQYeUouFy2rKtBwYYxorVviPzDoTa1H0hV5pmF9VvVpAbBho/s1600/blog8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1JYyQxZA_z0TLbXR0AiyP4yQ-ZSRhSD2o9RQh9XcgA06oebXutZdglClJSeSjq5Sx5CaJb_H-BjlstV49CVzTQAGv3cXjQYeUouFy2rKtBwYYxorVviPzDoTa1H0hV5pmF9VvVpAbBho/s320/blog8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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So i scooped, poured, dipped and spun my way to little tiny jars of heaven.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6xuXdSi82kcSuP_8jaxm5OebortquLSmd4ue56sDY2tzE9BQkdRBlHPWMURaNmoJBhTyA_cq0QDozVV520U0VV8zaqQMtm6pz99I2_TLfX1WZMDoYIw2dtIZ24PbDoXpxbI47vcNsrlA/s1600/blog3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6xuXdSi82kcSuP_8jaxm5OebortquLSmd4ue56sDY2tzE9BQkdRBlHPWMURaNmoJBhTyA_cq0QDozVV520U0VV8zaqQMtm6pz99I2_TLfX1WZMDoYIw2dtIZ24PbDoXpxbI47vcNsrlA/s320/blog3.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Don't you suddenly just want to eat jelly-jam?! Cause i do!! </div>
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Bread? </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fugetaboutit!!</span><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"> </span> (<say it right, please.)</div>
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This is my glorious mess. My glorious little jelly making mess!! </div>
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I'll be honest here, I feel like it won't be but a few moments before i have the Pioneer Woman<i> herself, </i>beating down my door asking me to be her best friend forever. That Ree. She's so like that.<br />
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I made jelly today.</div>
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What did you do, dorks?</div>
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Ah man, i'm sorry about the name calling. I think its the constant oxygen that my brain is getting. It feels so GOOD!</div>
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Maybe i'll whip up a quilt next?</div>
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You don't know.. </div>
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You just never know, Chumps!!</div>
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Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-21321692334938373472015-06-03T10:42:00.003-07:002015-06-03T11:00:05.031-07:00The hum drum daysThis has been a......a tough......year.<br />
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Lots of things going on and lots of decisions and thought and plans for the future.<br />
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Here's what i have to say. <i>Parenting is hard.</i><br />
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There are so many different stages of <i>hard. </i><br />
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There's the <i>new mom</i> stage of hard. The sleepless nights, the nursing, the transition from a girl, to a Mom. Theres new rashes, spit up, diapers, more prune juice--than less prune juice, first foods, rolling, crawling, walking, falling.<br />
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Then there's the <i>new school age parent</i> hard. We're flooded with questions. Will they be alright without me? Will kids be nice to them on the bus? What if someone is mean? They learn letters, sounds and words. Memorize sight words. They do lunches, recess. Friends, birthday parties, new experiences, joys, book walks, carnivals. It becomes a new adventure that generally turns out okay. School. Kids seem to enjoy it.<br />
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Until they don't.<br />
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Next is the stage of school--without the perks of everything being shiny and new. School is just school. Another year for them, another day for them. The light is (or can be) gone from their little twinkling eyes.<br />
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That's when you enter the<i> school's nothing new</i> stage of parenting. And you start to watch your child. Wonder if they are happy. Hope they have some deep rooted friendships. Work with them to get good grades. Math, math, and more math happens as half of us adults are confused at their elementary aged homework(!). There's people who rub you (or your child) the wrong way. There is this new dance of letting them live and guiding them to be strong, curious, and free individuals upon the foundation that you (hopefully) built for them to stand on. And its not easy.<br />
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Because what if you feel like maybe you <i>didn't</i> do it all right as a parent?<br />
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What if you watch other parents interact with their kids and you think, <i>That's not how we do it</i>? And then you wonder, ever-so-silently, if maybe that's why <i>their</i> kid behaves better. Acts better. Does better.<br />
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Its hard.<br />
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Especially when you aren't 100% sure.<br />
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I see the parents that toot their own horns. The ones with great kids. Self assured kids. Independent kids. Strong kids. Smart kids. Athletic kids. Respectful kids. Quiet spirited kids. Funny kids. Witty kids. Compassionate kids. Established kids. Confident kids.<br />
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It frustrates me to see people who think, though well intentioned, that their kids are this way because <i>they</i> made them that way. They think they created this little robot and what <i>they</i> say goes.<br />
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"If you just do this (?) then your kids will (with no variables at all) do exactly that." Simple.<br />
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And sometimes it works.<br />
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But i am so aware of the difference in our kids bents. God made them with certain talents and strengths. And all i want so desperately to do is find that happy place for my child.<br />
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And try as we may to make them be like <i>us</i>, we simply can't.<br />
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I can't <i>make</i> my quiet introvert just "lighten up and join in". Believe me, i've tried.<br />
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And i can 't <i>make</i> my social butterfly, who's always in the middle of a group, sit by herself and not care.<br />
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And if i'm being honest, that makes for some really hard days.<br />
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Parenting, darnit anyhow, it such a hard thing.<br />
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To watch as you see your child feel hurt, wow--does <i>that </i>cut like a knife.<br />
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Right?<br />
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Every parent has experienced it on some level.<br />
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That's life. I understand that.<br />
<br />
But doesn't it almost seem predictable that on those bad days you're having at your house, the days of self doubt and insecurity, that you sign onto facebook only to see your friend posted like the <i>perfect </i>picture of the <i>perfect</i> kid, doing the <i>perfect</i> thing at the perfect place on the<i> perfect</i> day. Those are the days that i just looked at the computer and mutter, <i>Shut up already! </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Or when money's tight at your house, doesn't it seem the whole wide world has up and flown to DISNEY WORLD! Ugh. Gag me already. (that's the jealously talking. I'm glad you all had a fun trip though. Good for you for working hard, being responsible, planning and being<i> perfect!</i>)<br />
<br />
Last night as i lay in bed, i just allowed myself to to talk to God <i>really</i> honestly.<br />
<br />
I said everything i was afraid to say.<br />
<br />
I didn't start with words of thanksgiving. I started off listing all of my regrets, all of my fears, all of my "<i>How come you haven't</i>...." I was just having it out. I was being real. For a moment, in my prayers, it was just complaining to a friend. Everything. My deepest darkest desires and all of my frustrations and concerns. <br />
<br />
And then i fell asleep.<br />
<br />
Nothing wonderful happened. I didn't wake up renewed. I didn't wake up feeling fulfilled.<br />
<br />
I just woke up.<br />
<br />
To the same struggles of today that i suffered yesterday.<br />
<br />
Life.<br />
<br />
It can surely be a B word sometimes.<br />
<br />
I'm constantly trying to think forward while i am remembering backwards.<br />
<br />
I try to evaluate my future, predict it. And i feel like i may know it. I feel like i know the path that i will take. I know the struggles that i will have.<br />
<br />
I think when i look to the future, i am such a realist......that i find i actually may border on pessimistic.<br />
<br />
Like, because of<i> this</i>--i will deal with<i> that. </i>As if i know.<br />
<br />
Sometimes i feel like my life is the movie Groundhogs day.<br />
<br />
I can predict what will be the problem. What i will be doing at dinner time. How i will feel around 4 o'clock. And where i'll be sitting come 10 pm.<br />
<br />
And lately--that's just not satisfying.<br />
<br />
I just cry out to God to help me be better. To change.<br />
<br />
But its almost like i can't.<br />
<br />
Its just so hard.<br />
<br />
Sometimes i feel like its too late. Damage is done.<br />
<br />
I often think to myself, maybe i shouldn't have been so silly with them and had so much fun, because now they only like to have fun. How do i complain about their room when i have clothes on my floor as well? How do you tell them to stop getting so mad.....when i'm mad?<br />
<br />
Man.<br />
<br />
Parenting is the pits when you hardly feel grown up enough to take care of yourself.<br />
<br />
Its like two seconds ago i was playing basketball and egging houses and now here i am making the dinner, doing the laundry and raising up children.<br />
<br />
How did this happen so fast!?<br />
<br />
I'm bringing my child through their own school years already. Wasn't<i> I </i>just in school?<br />
<br />
I'll tell ya what. School these days is a battle ground. And it ain't for the faint of heart.<br />
<br />
<i><b>Happiness.</b> Its can be an elusive creature some days.</i><br />
<br />
But we trudge on.<br />
<br />
Right?<br />
<br />
Because <i>we're</i> the mothers now.<br />
<br />
And dinners not just gonna make itself, sister.<br />
<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-36233039044727475812015-02-26T11:59:00.002-08:002015-02-26T12:00:31.921-08:00Don't conform.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today, as i busy myself at home cleaning out my refrigerator and washing the dishes, i get the faint scent of farm--every time i move.<br />
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It wafts through my hair, off my clothes and into my nostrils like the glorious scent of all things <i>good.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The smell of farm.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The smell of barn.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Makes me happy. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I guess it has for awhile now.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Today i drove up to the farm where i get my milk. And as usual, it was a trip i anticipated. There's just something about driving North.</div>
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As i am home now, i think about those small farmers--my friends--and i am so glad to know them..</div>
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So glad <i>for</i> them. </div>
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As the sun has been making its debut earlier and earlier these mornings and staying up later and later; with each passing day,<i> i feel happy.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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What makes me happy about going to the farm to get my milk isn't just the milk. It isn't just the people. It isn't the amazing amount of information that i gain each time. Its not even the fact that i can walk through and visit the cows if it want.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Its a combination <i>of it all.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I can't describe it. My words can not depict the joy it brings me to be with <i>salt of the earth</i> people.</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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As i sat listening to the radio and doing dishes--smelling random reminders of my morning drifting through the air. I felt so happy.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It felt like this, <i>this</i>, is what we are missing in the world.</div>
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<br />
Its whats <i>wrong</i> with the world.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The absence of good, hard working, knowledgeable people, who give 100% of their lives to something good. Something better. The select few who, without conscious thought, only know one gear: <i>blood, sweat and tears</i>. They give it all, 'cause its just what they do.</div>
<div>
<br />
Where are more people like <i>that?</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You don't see them. Because they're busy looking up dumb facts on their phones, taking naps, watching days of netflix and taking double chinned selfies of themselves.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's where our future sits, people.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the hands of a different breed of humans.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The generation of "smart-phone-dummies".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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Does <i>no one</i> get worried about that? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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Are we so sure of the path that we are taking that we never look up to check ourselves and to see if we are still heading in a direction that is good?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Or do we just accept it?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Our kids are hooked on pornography. Our kids use snapchat to communicate. Our kids are drinking $5 coffees, and talking on iphones that they don't even work to pay for!? They laugh out loud and expect you (the person sitting closest to them) to "get the joke" that they just read--ON THEIR PHONE! When they need information they don't sit and ponder it--forcing their dulled little brains to work, to actually<i> think</i>. No, they just ask Siri.</div>
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<br /></div>
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DOES NO ONE CARE!?!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I refuse to go with the flow on this. </div>
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<br /></div>
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"Technology is our future". Its always the same answer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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But instead of conforming to it, i have to ask myself , "<i>should it be</i>?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Has it cured cancer? Will it cure cancer? Can it cure cancer? In instances, yes--it has helped tremendously.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But has it also killed our nation? Has texting worthless and frivolous texts killed our loved ones? Are kids missing because they met a man who said he was a child on a social media site? Are 12 year olds attempting to kill their classmates because "slender man" told them to? Is bullying a classmate or filming a fight resulting in mass child suicide because kids<i> can't handle this stuff</i>? Is that<i> really</i> the way our future is headed?</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<i>Whaaaat the WHAT?! </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What has the benefit of having the internet--attached to you at every moment of every day--really done except entitle us to instant gratification in all areas of our life?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Parents are fighting an invisible battle (if they are even fighting at all). How do you help a child find balance in a world of app after app after app? How do you save a child from drowning in the pressure of peers when the fight is often invisible to the parents. How can you protect when there is a new account that gets set up, a new app to hide themselves and a new person tormenting or tempting your child all via<i> the world wide web.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<i>You can not protect, nor prepare a child for this. </i>I don't believe it. Something, someone will sweep them away when no one is looking. Because how <i>CAN</i> we be looking? Its nearly impossible.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Does no one care!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I feel like a broken record these days. All you cynics can point out that posting an anti technology blog using the exact technology that i am fighting to be ironic. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Its not. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You're not being cute by saying it. I'm a grown up, with a computer that plugs into the wall that doesn't have to be with me at all times. So spare me, mmmkay.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Does technology have a purpose? Absolutely. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But is the need to communicate through it, by it, on, and and in it 24/7 healthy for our already undiscilplined youth a good thing? Absolutely not.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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I'll fight it tooth and nail at this house.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I can promise you that.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And i hope other parents finally put their foot down and stop conforming. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Just say, "No!" for heavens sake.</div>
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<br /></div>
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No they don't need a phone that distracts them from their school work, they don't need itunes being streamed into their little mushy brains all day and night, they don't need to know what is going on around them through every social media sight.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Tell 'em to<i> pick up a shovel, already</i>!!</div>
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<br /></div>
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For the love of all that is good--make your kid sweat.</div>
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Make your kid work.</div>
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Make your kids feel the sunshine.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Make your child<i> think.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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So that the rest of us don't have to live in a world of self indulgent, spoiled, self-righteous, entitled, little dummies!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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I know i am passionate about this. And i know 99% of you can make an excuse why <i>your</i> kid isn't one of "those kids".</div>
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<br /></div>
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And maybe you're right.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>But i doubt it.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Today i smell like barn. I am relaxed, i am grateful, and i am content--knowing that good<i> does</i> exist and that i will do everything in my power to raise a <i>salt of the earth</i> household. They may not be perfect--heaven knows--but at least they will face life with their head <i>UP</i>........instead of looking down at a screen.</div>
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Of that, i can promise you.</div>
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Now, go dig a hole already.</div>
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Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-73283796298246056182014-11-11T09:23:00.001-08:002014-11-11T09:30:26.436-08:00Winter.<br />
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<br />
<br />
And so it begins......<br />
<br />
Winter.<br />
<br />
In Minnesota.<br />
<br />
Uffda....<br />
<br />
Let me start by saying i am not one of<i> those</i> people. You know the ones, the ones that sit and complain about the cold weather, like all. the. time. The ones who use every opportunity to complain about the cold, the snow, the wind, the ice, the winter.<br />
<br />
I've never been a fan of those people.<br />
<br />
I feel we have a responsibility to be loyal to our State. Equal to the one we should have for our family and our friends.<br />
<br />
"<i>Stop rippin' on her</i>" i think. Yes, she's cold, we get that, we know that, and we accept her for who she is. But she's not all bad. She gives us 4 beautiful seasons, transforms the landscape into an artists dream every fall, gently soothes us to sleep in the spring with her gentle rains and warms us to perfection in the Summer.<br />
<br />
I love her.<br />
<br />
I love my Minnesota.<br />
<br />
It where my roots are, so it's where i am.<br />
<br />
But for the first time, in 33 years, last night when i let my dog out before bed, and i opened the screen door to feel the winds whipping up snow at my face, and heard the intense jingle of my wind chimes.....its like the cold actually settled inside me.<br />
<br />
And it was an ugly feeling.<br />
<br />
I closed the door quickly and tightened my robe, this could be a long one, this winter we <i>must</i> endure <i>yet</i> <i>again.</i><br />
<br />
And as i slid into bed and pulled the covers high up to my chin i started to think, nay, to <i>panic</i> about the impending doom we Minnesotans were about to embark upon.<br />
<br />
And i tried, i <i>did</i>, i tried to be positive. I tried to be loyal. I tried to find the silver lining. But i couldn't. All i could think of was<i> why the heck did our ancestors stop here</i>--<i>it must have been Fall</i>. It had to be Fall. Because only fall could intoxicate a person enough to make them stop and set up camp. Darn you beautiful Fall. <i>Darn you</i>.<br />
<br />
So as i lay there, shuttering as the wind beat aggressively against my window, i started to think about the fact that our van is just cold blooded. She's a stubborn ol' girl who likes to run cold. (or at least that's what Jeromy and i like to say to make ourselves feel better as our teeth chatter when we are in it) That van just doesn't heat up. Like literally.<br />
<br />
And ya know what else?<br />
<br />
I lost the filter to my wet vac and that really started to bug me!! If i could just get a new filter, then i think i would feel better about this winter. Right?<br />
<br />
Which lead me to thing.....<br />
<br />
<i>Are the chicks okay? Are they too cold? Shoot</i>. Another winter laying in bed wondering if they're gonna make it.<br />
<br />
Yea, ya wanna hear more?<br />
<br />
My entryway mat was soaked from all the boot travel yesterday!! And that stunk.<br />
<br />
More you say?<br />
<br />
My van got so stuck in the driveway yesterday!! And that caused me to flash back to last year when i got stuck and i seriously think i was going to have a nervous break down, cursing the snow and screaming as i froze and dug my way out!!<br />
<br />
This is too soon. It just can't be that time of year again.<br />
<br />
<i>I'm a lady. I like to take things slow, Winter.</i><br />
<br />
<i>And this is much too fast. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
And how is it that the kids gloves, <i>ALREADY</i>, are like <i>constantly</i> soaked? I can't keep up with this.<br />
<br />
And the bottom of my freshly washed socks? Ohh, they're damp because i accidentally stepped on that entry way rug!!<br />
<br />
And ain't NO ONE LIKES DAMP SOCKS, girrrrl!!!<br />
<br />
At least all the kids snow pants fit them exactly like Steve Urkel's pants fit him. So that's great.<br />
<br />
<i>Not yet, Winter, just give us a few more weeks.</i><br />
<br />
Here i sit, after a weekend with my husband away hunting, and then a snow day, and now a 2 hour school delay. My kids are standing on that wet entry way mat, because they went outside, "just to test their pants" and ended up playing in the snow like crazy people (aka: kids) and now....THEIR MITTENS ARE SOAKED!!!!! So there i made them stand. For the next 10 minutes, till that every lovin' bus gets here. And the dryer is a hummin' as i attempt to speed dry those darn $1 knit mittens.<br />
<br />
Winter,<br />
<br />
<br />
Its not you.....<br />
<br />
<br />
....its me.......<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
......actually, its you. Its most definitely you.<br />
<br />
I've tried. <i>I have.</i><br />
<br />
We<i> all </i>have.<br />
<br />
As i drove to my Moms house yesterday morning, all my precious cargo in tow, i thought, "i am a straight up cuckoo bird." It seems whenever the weather gets real bad.....i get in the van. That cold blooded hog.<br />
<br />
I stopped at Holiday to get a few donuts and as i opened the door to that unfamiliar (and yet <i>so</i> familiar) gust of snow/wind hit my face, all i could do was gasp for air and run inside.<br />
<br />
Inside, i saw other Minnesotans, we gave each other the eye, the "<i>i know, right?"</i> look. It felt special.<br />
Its that same moment that i feel so often, in the winter, in Minnesota. <i>Pride.</i> <br />
<br />
I'm proud to be a Minnesotan. I am. We're tough as they come. Dumb, maybe. But super tough. I mean, we're much likelier to get MS someday, but we're tough. Have i mentioned we're tough? 'Cause that's all we have for the next 6 months. <i>We're tough.</i> So ya better hang your hat on that one, 'cause its here to stay.<br />
<br />
After my special love moment passed inside Holiday, i got back into the car and though, <i>Yep, we ARE in these trenches together people. We're a team. And i love you.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
But as i drove a bit further i thought, <i>Team??</i> These people are crazy, these people aren't my<i> team, </i>these people could very well become my MURDERED with only one turn of the wheel!<br />
<br />
So i stopped thinking and just focused on the road. And then flicked off the next person to drive past me. Just to let em' know who's the boss out here.<br />
<br />
(just kidding, Mom)<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Winter.</i><br />
<br />
I'm not saying i wanna break up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
....I just need some space.<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-51804551255965687452014-10-01T09:36:00.003-07:002014-10-01T11:58:30.022-07:00Look up and live.Get ready, cause here i come.<br />
<br />
Technology.<br />
<br />
It's the cause of my rant today. It has been slowly burning down in the pit of my belly for weeks and weeks and today--I'm snapping. And its highly likely that about 99% of the seven people who read this aren't going to agree cause they will probably be reading this on their tablets, or<i> say it ain't so</i>, while they are in the line at Chipotle! (<i>insert mad woman scream here</i>!)<br />
<br />
I am like so totally over this electronic phase of life. <br />
<br />
A long time ago, by brother told me that he didn't think the problem was the instant access but the slow separation that was going to come between the <i>have's</i> and the<i> have not's. </i>I never really committed to that problem as my fury was at the total idiots that it was creating in our kids. Little self righteous, instant access, over informed, under educated, selfie taking, reading about peoples life but unable to live their own, <i>smart phone dummie kids.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
My step daughter constantly jokes about not needing her brain because its "not the most used network in America", or not needing to know which direction is North, "because my phone does", i laugh, as i beg her not to be just another<i> smart phone dummie.</i> She doesn't get it.<br />
<br />
Because shes growing up in the era and its just "<i>what everyone else it doing</i>". It would be weird for her NOT to have a smart phone, i pod (x5) a kindle and a nook, right?<br />
<br />
Seriously, i just have to take slow deep breaths at this point.......<br />
<br />
I know the argument.<br />
<br />
"<i>But its whats happening, everything is online and if my kid doesn't know how to work something they will be behind." "What about college? They are going to need to know how to do this stuff.</i>"<br />
<br />
Here's my argument.<br />
<br />
I don't know how itunes, twitter, instagram, facebook, vine, or youtube is going to help your kid.<br />
<br />
I don't believe any of that crap. I literally hate this instant access.<br />
<br />
We have GPS---so we don't have to actually <i>know</i> where we are going.<br />
<br />
We don't memorize our friends numbers (or heaven forbid, our parents) because its programmed into the phone. Duh.<br />
<br />
We can't spell cause autocorrect can.<br />
<br />
We don't have photo albums at home, we have facebook online.<br />
<br />
We don't wear watches, or write grocery lists, or go to the library, or bank, because we have a phone that can do that.<br />
<br />
Eye contact? <i>Forget about it.</i><br />
<br />
Actual conversations? <i>Gone</i>.<br />
<br />
Asking questions to Suri or Seri or whatever? <i>Totally.</i><br />
<br />
Our brains are mush because, hey, <i>if we don't know it, we can just google it.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Does this bother NO ONE ELSE?!?<br />
<br />
I don't care about the blogs to the "<i>parent on the cell phone</i>" or the opposing one defending the "<i>parent on the cellphone.</i>".<br />
<br />
There are sides to everything and if we feel it, we can find it.<br />
<br />
That shot of Obama, being the good for nothing that he is, walking off the plane and throwing out a weak (at best) salute to the military while he is holding a fancy drink. Yea--thats offensive.<br />
<br />
Republicans and American lovers didn't like that. Not one<i> bit.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
But about one day later, my Liberal friend posted a photo, in defense of the Obama hate, of W holding a dog and showing a less than perfect salute as well.<br />
<br />
Seriously?!<br />
<br />
This is what we do?<br />
<br />
This is our world now.<br />
<br />
Between photoshop and about 1,890,098, 009 differing opinions, we don't even know what we can believe anymore.<br />
<br />
Is that a fact, or an opinion?<br />
<br />
I mean, its on the internet....so it has to be credible, <i>right</i>?<br />
<br />
As for twitter, Instagram and every social media site out there--don't even get me STARTED on elementary school age kids having, first off, the tools to access that (pads, pods, notebooks etc.) but then tell me they have their own account?.......followers?!?<br />
<br />
<i>Its a wonder my head hasn't exploded yet.</i><br />
<br />
A ten year old with a instagram account?<br />
<br />
I just want to spank that parent. Seriously.<br />
<br />
But let me guess, <i>all her friends had one</i>. (read that in the most syrupy/whiney voice you can muster)<br />
<br />
But we don't want to be the dork parent that that doesn't follow suit. That would be horrible.<br />
<br />
So horrible we would have to take a photo of it, make a clever remark, tint the photo to make us look skinny, tag our 7 year old and post that baby as fast as possible.<br />
<br />
<i>hastag. no more phone. sad face.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Oy.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I am so over this stuff. Obviously.<br />
<br />
Adults, do what you want. Clearly we can. And it can be fun. Just please don't be the one in front of me in the line at Chipotle that thinks it would be inhuman to <i>NOT</i> scroll all your facebook messages and texts and tweets while you stand there. Cause you just look dumb. Like i really think you are probably dumb. Like, i bet you can't even<i> spell</i> d-u-m-b dumb. Have i made my point? Dumb.<br />
<br />
I don't know why it always happens there and why its always around me,(who am i kidding, its everywhere all the time!) but its a a miracle that i have even survived standing in that 78 hour long line while i see all these smart phone dummies just looking at their screens and <i>MISSING</i> actual<i> LIFE</i>!!!!!!<br />
<br />
If i snap one day......its gonna be in the Chipotle line. Guaranteed.<br />
<br />
Now lets talk about school.<br />
<br />
(you didn't think i was <i>done</i> did you? Silly reader.)<br />
<br />
I am getting sheet after sheet home in my kids backpack that is telling me about these apps that i can get for the kids school work. Work that<i> has</i> to be done. Apps. (kill me now)<br />
<br />
Thankfully, at the bottom in teeny tiny print i found a sentence that read "And if you are lame and don't have anything for an app, then you can go to a website starting with www. and find your kids homework, ya ol stick in the mud."<br />
<br />
Seriously, i'm pretty sure i wrote that verbatim.<br />
<br />
So now, i feel the gap. The<i> have's </i>and the <i>have not's.</i><br />
<br />
Not only do i not have wifi at home, or any sort of tablet, but i think it would be beyond financially irresponsible (unlike the many coffees i get in a week) for us to pay out that much money so our kids can play mind numbing games, access porn, and read about the Slender man.<br />
<br />
Ummm, no thank you.<br />
<br />
I will walk my daughter down to the dungeon each night and sign her on the the plug-in-the-wall computer and access her IXl math. (which is a blast, I tell you and it feels nothing like a punishment.)<br />
Because its all i can do.<br />
<br />
I know you people (yea, i said "you people" and i mean it) are all proposing your responses and defenses and ready to tell me that i am hurting my kid by keeping them(and us) from this stuff. And how and why your kid is so advanced <i>because</i> of technology. I know.<br />
<br />
I know you are confident in your decisions.<br />
<br />
And i also know that i am so very hopeful that this computer age comes to an end and people start raking leaves together as a family again.<br />
<br />
We are what we claim to disagree with. Oh <i>those</i> kids that can't go without their screens. They have <i>no time management skills</i>. So entitled. They get <i>whatever</i> they want. <i>Instant </i>access.<br />
<br />
I mean, I only have one dork computer and i like facebook as much as the next guy. I get it. But shouldn't we fight it a little harder. Keep our kids from this black hole that<i> is</i> technology?<br />
<br />
This isn't only a a kid problem, its a a grown up one.<br />
<br />
This is true.<br />
<br />
So why won't anyone just put their foot down?<br />
<br />
And say no.<br />
<br />
No, no. no. Absolutely not. I love you too much to only see the here and now. I care about your future and want the best for you, and following the crowd, drinking the coolaid and walking blindly <i>isn't</i> what is best. We have to protect those little minds and all the information we allow<i> in</i> there. Not every "follower" is worth having. There is a time and a place for technology, yes. But its not every second, of every minute, of every day, always.<br />
<br />
Amen.<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-12451569237515727142014-09-22T12:02:00.003-07:002014-09-22T13:07:10.994-07:00Doctors...pfft.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm just gonna be straight up honest in this post, so who knows where that will lead me or who(...to whom?....to who?......whom?....whatever.... ) i may offend.</div>
<br />
These past few weeks of all three kids being in school haven't been the cake walk i had secretly anticipated.<br />
<br />
In fact, i would say its been really, really hard.<br />
<br />
I don't know my place yet. I'm not sure of my new tasks. And for petes sake, I'm still just <i>me </i>after all. Disorganized, scatterbrained, kind of lazy, food loving, tv watching, Christina.<br />
<br />
Which i think is about 3/4 of the problem. I didn't suddenly transform into the neat freak, obsessed, type A mom that i thought i would when they stepped onto that bus.<br />
<br />
Hmmmph.<br />
<br />
You know what i do? <br />
<br />
I clean a bit, cook a bit, wash laundry a bit, drink coffee a bit, and visit with my friends a.....well, a lot actually.<br />
<br />
So i feel like this time that i had anticipated to be so long and relaxing has actually kept me feeling rushed and a bit stressed.<br />
<br />
So stressed in fact, that i went to the doctor the other day.<br />
<br />
Let me just give you a little insight about how often we go to the doctor around here. For the past <i>year</i> i thought we had health partner<i>s........</i>but it turns out, we don't. Well, who knew!<br />
<br />
I went to the doctor because i was a bit concerned about this pain in my left calf, i was a tiny bit worried about my ear that is swelling and just wanting blood work to make sure i'm not dying of anything.<br />
<br />
<i>Is that so much to ask?</i><br />
<br />
Well, this doctor, who i didn't know, started asking me stuff and i answered--in true Christina fashion--quickly and not wanting to waste his time.<br />
<br />
As I'm talking i happen to feel my mocha suddenly kick in, but no bigs, i express my concern slash confusion with why i <i>am </i>actually here.<br />
<br />
To which the doctor responds, "I noticed your speech is a bit fast."<br />
<br />
(blink.....blink. Are you<i> kidding</i> me!?)<br />
<br />
"Yep." I respond. "Just trying not to waste your time."<br />
<br />
To which he says, "How'd ya do in school?"<br />
<br />
(blink.....blink....insert increased blood pressure<i> now</i>.)<br />
<br />
"Fine, i did<i> fine. Fine. </i>And i <i>know</i> what you're getting at here, jerk. ADD? Seriously? Come on. I can read books, i enjoy my quiet time. I focus and process like a champ<i>. Okay? Lets not do this."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
To which he says "<i>Its just that if your speech is that fast, i can only imagine how fast your brain is working, and I'd imagine that its not very easy to slow it down sometimes. Right?</i><br />
<br />
"Mmmhmm. Sure." i say.<br />
<br />
And then i add, "Just an FYI, <i>I feel like you are speaking especially slow, on purpose....just to prove your point</i>."<br />
<br />
And with that, we tensely smile at each other.<br />
<br />
He just continued right along. "Are you having <i>good</i> <i>conversations with your husband</i>?" He asks. (serious, i might add)<br />
<br />
At this point i literally laughed out loud and asked him, (with lightning speed) " Are you having good conversations with your <i>wife</i>?"<br />
<br />
<i>Touche Christina</i> (......i said to no one.)<br />
<br />
Then about 5 minutes later after having to honestly tell him my high school grades (!) and prove i wasn't a nut, he told me that sometimes "home moms"(yep, that's what he called me) spend alot of time thinking about how they are<i> feeling</i> when the kids go off to school and they really just need to find something <i>constructive</i> to do with their time.<br />
<br />
(blink.....blink....)<br />
<br />
I'll tell you what I'm going to do thats<i> constructive</i>,<i> </i>buddy--I'm going to construct an involved plan about how i can take you out in the parking lot after work. Oh yea, that's right, how you like that? And I'll do it all with my lightening fast brain and swollen ear. <i>OKAY?</i><br />
<br />
Guh.<br />
<br />
So that was last week.<br />
<br />
And now i don't even know if i am actually feeling things or if its my "home mom" problem.<br />
<br />
Gross.<br />
<br />
Even though i laughed about it. I have been thinking about it....<br />
<br />
I guess it boils down to responsibility and discipline. And i am just having a heck of a time with that.<br />
<br />
The pressure i feel to have the house clean and dinner ready, cause I'm home alone, seems to be overwhelming.<br />
<br />
I feel like i am going to crack, like at <i>any second.</i><br />
<br />
I hate dishes. I hate laundry. I don't<i> need</i> to be busy. I don't<i> want</i> to reorganize my drawers or linen closet. Socialization is way more important to me that that junk and its so lonely at home...in the laundry room.<br />
<br />
And yet....that's my job.<br />
<br />
When i look back, i feel like i may have been a little bit crazy when i had Junior. Like, angry and spinning crazy.<br />
<br />
<i>It was the sleep i tell you. No one ever sleeps!</i><br />
<br />
And yet now, i feel like i am kind of going down that road again.<br />
<br />
Me trying to keep up with three kids homework? <i>Fuhgedaboudit </i> Its madness. Who's spelling needs to be done when? Did your do your IXL math? "A" says "ahhh". Read for 20 minutes. Wheres that sheet i signed? Do you have lunch money? Snacks? Oh you're the star of the week <i>this</i> week? What was your mothers mothers mom? What is 33 divided by 3? If a train leaves the station at 4 o'clock and its heading North........<br />
<br />
<i>Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! </i>This is more than i can do here.<br />
<br />
Each night i find myself wondering<i> where is my place in life?</i> <i>What should i do</i>?<i> Is any of it valuable? Am i gonna snap and really go after that doctor? Maybe.</i><br />
<br />
All i know it i got on the treadmill and walked for 29 minutes today to help my brain.<br />
<br />
I don't know if it worked....but i'm gonna <span style="text-align: center;">keep trying.</span><br />
<br />
You know how people often say non Christians have a "Jesus shaped hole in their heart?"<br />
<br />
Well, I feel like i have a "Christina shaped hole" in mine . And i can't figure out how the heck I'm supposed to fill it.<br />
<br />
Who<i> am</i> i?<br />
<br />
...and why the heck is my left ear swollen, darnit!<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-20714163461814967522014-09-02T13:22:00.001-07:002014-09-02T15:31:21.092-07:00School<br />
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Big day today.<br />
<br />
Very big indeed.<br />
<br />
After months and months of people asking me, "What are you going to <i>do</i> now?" And wondering, for myself, what <i>am</i> i going to do.<br />
<br />
The day is upon me.<br />
<br />
All three of my little cherubs are in school.<br />
<br />
I didn't anticipate this day very much this Summer.<br />
<br />
I choose not to.<br />
<br />
I knew that if i let myself even think, for a second, that my baby boy was going to climb up those familiar steps of the bus....<br />
<br />
well, i might just die.<br />
<br />
Instead i placed my head firmly into the sand. Where is felt so welcomed and familiar.<br />
<br />
I like the sand.<br />
<br />
Its safe there.<br />
<br />
The proverbial sand that is.<br />
<br />
Cause real sand.....Ugh.....not a fun place.<br />
<br />
The bugs, the things, the ....<i>.SAND</i>. Yuck.<br />
<br />
I want none of that.<br />
<br />
My sand was pretty much a safe place until Sunday morning, when i woke up--at 4:15am.....and it all hit me.<br />
<br />
I had just snuck out of Juniors room, after he had a bad dream and needed his Momma, and climbed into my own bed when<i> it hit me.</i><br />
<br />
This is really happening.<br />
<br />
So i prayed and i prayed and i prayed and i prayed. And then i prayed some more.<br />
<br />
This is a a big step when you have been a stay at home Mom for 9 years.<br />
<br />
As i wander around this afternoon i realize that this is the biggest change i have experienced since i became a mother--9 glorious years ago.<br />
<br />
For real.<br />
<br />
Its the same thoughts that I had when i first looked into Ruby's eyes. <i> She's really mine? Forever? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i> </i>I remember being overwhelmed with the awesomeness of being a Mom and thinking that it wasn't going to end, i was actually going to get to see this baby crawl, walk, make friends, and go to school.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>She was mine. She was my girl.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>A</i>nd now as i walk around the empty house, folding random things and wishing i had better things on my DVR, i think.<br />
<br />
<i>Is this real? This is what its going to be like from now on?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Its like i feel like at any moment someone was going to come in and say "Just kidding!"<br />
<br />
This is my new normal, huh?<br />
<br />
Its like i have been hidden in a closet working for the past 9 years and now i am outside and in the <i>sunshine </i>for the first time. Its so bright. Its so real. Its actually here.<br />
<br />
<i>Its here.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
After all the sleepless nights i thought would never end, and the breastfeeding that made you feel about as valuable as an ol' cow, the nights where i rocked, and rocked and rocked some more--desperately wishing for sleep, after all the warmed up veggies that came flying out of those adorable mouths back at me, after all the first steps, the first teeth, first birthdays, and first words, the never ending battle of bedtimes, baths, the fatigue, the laundry, the dishes, the cooking.......<br />
<br />
After all of it.<br />
<br />
I'm done.<br />
<br />
.......................<br />
<br />
<i>I'm done?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I feel confused in this new sunlight. Afraid of this little freedom. Unsure of my footing.<br />
<br />
I honestly don't know what to do.<br />
<br />
I don't want to love it too much.<br />
<br />
But like all things, i suppose i'll get used to it.<br />
<br />
<i>Right?</i><br />
<br />
Today after Junior got onto that school bus, i felt a little like i was suffocating.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<i>What if he cries for me? What if no one is nice to him? What if he needs a hug? What if....what if....what if.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I can honestly say that when that bus door closed, i was in physical pain.<br />
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<br />
<br />
And then i jumped into my van and begun to follow the bus.<br />
<br />
Because i can, people! <i>Okay</i>?! Settle down about it.<br />
<br />
Jeromy asked me if i was alright? I just looked over at him, forgetting he was even in the car. My babies were on that bus.....and i needed them to know Momma was right here.<br />
<br />
I know. I <i>know!!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But its how i felt.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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Once they arrived at school, i ran over and snapped their pictures and hugged them and walked them to the door. (like i do every yer)<br />
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They seemed okay.<br />
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They were excited to see their Dad. (normally he is waiting in the car with a little sibling.) This was the first year he was able to get out too (tear). They ran to him.<br />
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Then we walked Junior to his class line. And it all hit home. Seeing my baby boy in line, all strong, and waiting. Was a proud, and heartbreaking, moment for me.<br />
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I kissed him 576 times, reminded him to be kind to others and headed back to the car.<br />
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<i>My sweet baby.</i><br />
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<i>How did this happen? When did they grow up so fast?</i><br />
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Why was the sun so bright that it caused my eyes to water and my lip to quiver. Darn sun.<br />
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So now here i sit....watching the clock. Waiting.<br />
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For my three little chicks to return to their nest so i can finally breath that sigh of relief.<br />
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Hold 'em tight, Mommas (and Dads). Because they really <i>do</i> grow up fast......<br />
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...<i>too fast.</i><br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-37977932398985340562014-08-20T13:47:00.001-07:002014-08-20T14:53:47.245-07:00Emily Thielke<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq36-jBfjZqxwiBAlfzKyRBf26eTrW3kutMnSaWfOhOh47vWEGzYPUWzusQdDygpJHvHVPBuU37TJLbJSAsUXkRqo-6e_eDSmPZXgQLY0JvzjjM_saaxYHJpmEz6AAqY_k3kpeQwYOtAL/s1600/edited26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq36-jBfjZqxwiBAlfzKyRBf26eTrW3kutMnSaWfOhOh47vWEGzYPUWzusQdDygpJHvHVPBuU37TJLbJSAsUXkRqo-6e_eDSmPZXgQLY0JvzjjM_saaxYHJpmEz6AAqY_k3kpeQwYOtAL/s1600/edited26.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have this cousin who's prettier, wittier, braver, stronger and funnier than me. Its annoying really. Because darnit anyhow, <i>I wanna to be the cool one.</i><br />
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But if i would step to the side for anyone, it would be for Mrs. Emily Thielke. Because i'm no match for her.<br />
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I've been wanting to write about the Lozilu Mud Run, that i did with her and a group of friend back in June, for awhile now.<br />
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The only thing is--i didn't know how to word it.<br />
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You see, my amazing cousin was diagnosed with Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia (yes, i had to read an email to figure out how to spell that) about 2 1/2 years ago. I don't tell you this because she is defined by it--oh no--i only tell you because it is pertinent to my story.<br />
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You see, Emily has a caringbridge site, but you know what she does with it? She writes about her sisters baby's health, and her thankfulness for blessings and continued prayers, she updates us on her doctors and other things long<i> </i>before<i> </i>she writes about<i> herself</i> and her own situation. That's the kind of girl she is. Humble to the core--yet,<i> stronger</i> than anyone else. But not just the "<i>she has cancer so she's strong</i>" kind of tough. No, no, no--this girls is<i> s-t-r-o-n-g</i>. Tall Bunyon strong (she likes when i call her that). I'm talking spiritually, mentally, physically, emotionally and socially <i>strong. </i>Her faith in Jesus Christ runs <i>deep</i> and she relies not on her <i>own</i> strength but on <i>His</i>. He is her<i> rock</i>, her <i>fortress</i>, and her <i>deliverer</i>.<br />
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She's so stinkin' cool. She never, ever, makes a big deal about herself. And yet--she really<i> IS</i> such a big deal<i>.</i> And i love her so much.<br />
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Well, this June i decided to run/walk this mud run with her--cause i'm always up for a party and if it means being with her--well, than i'm definitely IN!<br />
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Here we are before the race. Excited!!</div>
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Here I am, delicately crossing over a wall in a very lady like manner. Gross.</div>
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This is us as we reached the finish line, high fiving the adorably perfect Boone kids!</div>
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Here's us dancing. Emily even has some sweet air in this one. Typical Emily. Awesome.<br />
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My favorite one. Dance machines. Kevin Bacon ain't got <i>NOTHIN</i>' on us.<br />
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You flex because you feel strong when you are covered in mud and have a bandanna on, that's why.<br />
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Final photo before we go wash off in the(panic-attack-inducing) lake. </div>
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Yea. Yes. Yippie. Look at us. We're swimming, because its so natural and easy.....why <i>wouldn't</i> we do it.<br />
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I think i'm kissing the ground in this one. Because i was sure i was going to drown out there. Ugh, but if everyone doin' it....you bet I am too. At least i look delicate and petite in this shot. Thank you Lord for <i>LAND!</i><br />
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Now, we run this race because the Lozilu Mud Run sponsors Leukemia.<br />
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Only buggar is, if you know me, you know i am a bit of a critic about that kind of thing. I don't usually give donations, i don't give because i don't even believe the people half the time. I know--it sounds really mean as i re-read it--but i am a (not proud) skeptic, i guess.<br />
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I'm always like <i>Oh, yea right. Suuuure that money is going to research. Probably some big business pocketing it and flying their private jet to a tropical location. No thank you.</i><br />
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But this particular sponsor was good. I guess. I mean, Emily told me that --so i believed it. (<i>and she was sooo right</i>!)<br />
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So we ran the race. (My first year. Their second)<br />
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I found in her group of friends a "place" for the day. The amount of quick witted jokes and endless funny coming from them gave me wings, people. I was on cloud nine. These were my people. Constant chatter, lots of laughter and a bunch of "that's what she said" for good measure.<br />
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So for me, just being with Emily was a joy.<br />
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You really couldn't not love her if you met her. Its sickening.<i> You hear that miss Perfect--you're sickening!!</i><br />
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My only saving grace is that we share a bit of genetics.....so, that helps me sleep at night, because maybe <i>some day</i>....she'll wear off on me :)<br />
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After the race--which was AMAZINGLY FUN--we went to the little booth where you buy shirts. Which is something i would never-ever-do. But Emily was going to do it, and her friends were--so i guess i was. I blame the endorphins. And the fact that i just thought i was going to drown in my 4 minute swim in the lake. Seriously.<br />
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We got our shirt sizes figured out--i opted for a moo moo, but they didn't have one--and then at the end of the transaction, the woman asked Emily if she wanted to donate to this L.I.F.E organization. (which gives 100% of its profits to young cancer patients who are in financial need.)<br />
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<i>Dooooe-naaaattttee</i>, i heard her say over and over in my head in slow motion.<br />
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I automatically froze, always hating this question.<br />
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But do you know what Emily did?<br />
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(of course you do. She's so much better than me)<br />
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She said, A<i>bsolutely!!</i><br />
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And then she went on to tell the volunteers how much this organization meant to her and how they truly helped her financially in her first year after the diagnosis. They were so willing and supportive and giving.<br />
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To which her awesome friend (as if on cue) took out a 50 dollar bill and threw it down and said she wanted to give to donate as well.<br />
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Emily was so touched and gracious and thankful..<br />
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She talked about how cool this L.I.F.E organization is. How they give 100% of their proceeds to people with cancer. How it <i>really</i> helped her out in a very difficult time.<br />
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The volunteer nodded and really seemed to understood how much this meant to Emily.<br />
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And then she asked, "<i>Are you a survivor?</i>"<br />
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(Emily has <i>chronic</i> Leukemia--which means its ongoing and has <i>YET</i> to have a cure.)<br />
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It was silent as we stood there.<br />
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A deafening silence.<br />
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Why was my heartbeat exploding in my ear? The wind seemed to fall still as we stood there.<br />
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Behind Emily, I waited....<br />
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".....<i>survivING</i>." she responded, as only Emily could.<br />
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The air seemed to disappear from my lungs. <i>Would her wonders never cease. </i><br />
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The woman nodded, slowly, and wiped a tear from behind her glasses.<br />
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It was a powerful silence. One that weighed about as heavy as a ton of bricks on me.<br />
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Emily smiled and said something sweet (as usual) and the topic moved in a different direction.<br />
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But i stood there<i> frozen</i>. <i>Broken</i> by my cousins fight.<i> Powerless</i> to her pain. In awe of her never ending <i>strength.</i><br />
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Its a moment that i will never forget.<br />
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The sisterhood of woman standing<i> together,</i> some fighting, some surviving, some supporting<i>. </i>All because we love someone and want to fight this thing.<br />
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I've never felt that before.<br />
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But you can bet that when they asked if i wanted to donate......i was never so happy to say "<i>YES!"</i><br />
<br />
That was June. <br />
<br />
And a few days ago, we heard some news that is thrilling (beyond finding an actual <i>cure</i>). After 21/2 years of chemotherapy she has<i> FINALLY</i> reached "complete molecular remission (response)" This is such amazingly big news, you have no idea. It doesn't mean she is cured, but it means that it's <i>working</i>.<br />
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Its finally working.<br />
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<i>And my heart is so full.</i><br />
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Emily is going to participate in a walk on September 28th to raise awareness for this disease and to help fund the research.<br />
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Here's what she wrote...<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #38393c; font-family: Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> "Each year The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) put on a 'Light The Night Walk' fundraising campaign to raise awareness to the cancer as well as raise money for research. Research that clearly is making a difference in my life. We're counting on events and organizations like this one to hopefully one day find a cure. </span><br />
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The walk takes place at Target field on Sunday, September 28th at 4pm. It's a leisurely walk, approximately 2 miles inside and around the stadium, where walkers will carry illuminating lanterns to "light the night" in honor of those lost to the cancer, cancer survivors, and to bring together families and communities who have been affected by the disease. The purpose is to shine a light on the importance of finding cures and providing access to treatments for blood cancer. Each participant is asked to raise a minimum of $100 each and will receive a t-shirt and a wristband for free food (free rides on the Light Rail and Northstar train as well). My personal goal is $1,000 (yikes) and our team goal $2,500. We would love if you could join us! Bring the kids! My little squirrely's will be there too!"</div>
I've decided that my family is going to walk<i> with</i> Emily on that Sunday (and hold hands....but i haven't told her about that part yet) We want to stand beside her in her fight. Because there's<i> no one better</i>.<br />
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If you want to support the greatest person i know--support Emily. Please.<br />
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<a href="http://pages.lightthenight.org/mn/TwinCiti14/EThielke">http://pages.lightthenight.org/mn/TwinCiti14/EThielke</a><br />
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THANK YOU!<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-13595150966241667262014-08-03T09:17:00.002-07:002014-08-03T09:19:00.269-07:00DrivingI woke up today, like most weekends, and decided to slip out the door before anyone else woke up. Well, before the teenagers sleeping downstairs and the old guy in my bed woke up. The little kids, of course, were already up.<br />
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I threw on some makeup and headed out the door. Anxious to get into the van alone. It is where my brain works the best. In the car, going down the road, alone. <br />
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I opted not to play my new birthday CD at max volume but instead turned on KTIS and prayed as i drove North.<br />
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My favorite drive.<br />
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Heading to Cambridge without a defined agenda..<br />
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And as my brain prayed and wondered and questioned life, i found myself pleading, like usual, for God to just lead me. To fix me, to shape me, and to mold me.<br />
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To help me be<i> better</i>. In all things.<br />
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And as i drove to Cambridge, the response seemed silent. My mind a bit foggy.<br />
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I got to Walmart and returned a life jacket and slowly walked around, not exactly sure of what i needed, but enjoying this pressure free moment.<br />
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As i got back into my van, i ran to Caribou--got a coffee, and headed to the coop.<br />
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I sat in the parking lot of the coop and sipped my drink and made a list of what i needed. I grabbed my reusable bag (which is an accomplishment in itself) and headed straight<i> into</i> the sliding door which didn't open...because they were closed.<br />
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I quickly looked around and realized the parking lot was empty.<br />
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So i got back into my car and headed home.<br />
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I took the slow way, the way that takes me through town. And i thought as i drove.<br />
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Wondering what i was doing in life. What was i making a difference for.<br />
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And as i drove around the big beautiful stone church a song came on the radio that started off with the words "Empty hands held high...." And i know this song. And heck, i don't really even like it, but today....i thought about that visual.<br />
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The visual that us, as Christians, see all the time. We hear about this, we know this. Hands held up in worship, praise to God. Lacking in nothing, filled with everything.<br />
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And then i began to think about how that is a sight so many of us enjoy. To see the person who may have nothing in life, but has everything in Jesus. Smiling. Thankful. And full.<br />
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I think its safe to say that we all like that kind of person. A person who always has a kind word on their lips, who's patience is abounding, a constant smile to match the sparkle in their eyes, a genuine sweetness and concern for others with--no selfish motives. Who lives out their faith.<br />
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This person. We might all know of someone like that. Maybe. Hopefully.<br />
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Not only is that a rare thing to find--love expressing itself in the purest of forms. But it can feel impossible sometimes.<br />
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So why can't we <i>be</i> that?<br />
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Why is is to <i>hard </i>to do what we all know is right. To show unconditional love. To turn the other cheek. To listen first and to speak second. To love, love and then love some more.<br />
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I thought about the person that i <i>wish</i> i was and then considered the reality of who<i> </i>i <i>really </i>am<i>.</i><br />
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Too many words. Too much anger. Inability to hold my tongue. Resentful. The love that i give, exclusively.<br />
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And darnit if its not frustrating. To be at the bottom looking up. The hill seems too steep, too difficult to climb. Its easier to just make due at the bottom. If you don't try,<i> you don't fail. </i>And that battle, that constant uphill battle just<i> wears me out</i>. I feel like i am at the bottom of every hill in life. And<i> that </i>can be defeating.<br />
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But if we don't take one step.....then what?<br />
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What keeps me from being that person that i want to be?<br />
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The flesh. My own sin.<br />
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I know this.<br />
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I know that we can conquer anything and accomplish everything through the utter reliance and total faith in Jesus Christ.<br />
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And i<i> have</i> that. I do.<br />
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But sometimes i can feel jaded because i realized that everyone, in this life, gives freely of what they <i>want</i> to share. Trusts Gods with much. Teaches in areas that they excel. People teach us and give commands and yet their life is in utter chaos behind closed doors. For everyone that teaches and is pure and loving in what they teach--i have found about 10 that aren't. And that is disappointing. And what the world sees when they look at us "<i>Christians</i>." They see a mess attached to a finger pointing at them in judgment.<br />
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And i hate that.<br />
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But if ya look deep down, everyone is holding tightly to <i>something</i>. Controlling some area of their life that they won't <i>give up</i>. They just don't tell you about it.<br />
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Like a person who isn't anxious or fearful, they may have all the advice in the world on how to let that fear go or how to<i> just</i> "give it to God".<br />
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And that is great. Those people seem to have things together. They are anxious to teach others how to accomplish this.....<br />
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...and yet, those peoples personalities aren't <i>naturally</i> fearful, so for them to say they "overcame it" or "gave it up to God" really isn't true.<br />
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Because it was never something they held tightly to in the first place.<br />
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If you look deeper, they have white knuckles on an issue that maybe the fearful person doesn't.<br />
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Does this make sense?<br />
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I just think about each and every persons genetic make up, their predisposition towards a trait. And think about how we are all so different and all overcoming different obstacles.<br />
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And as i drove today, i say a mother sitting in the shade of a tree next to the trailer park. She was on the phone, and her little child, was standing beside her, playing with her hair.<br />
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And i just felt sad.<br />
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I wondered if that mother knew the gift that she had been given when God gave her that child?<br />
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How special, and wonderful and very vulnerable children are. How they look to us to teach and love and protect them.<br />
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Do we remember that when we look at our own children? When we are at home, exasperated, and repeating ourselves for the 739th time?<br />
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I know i don't. Or at least i haven't lately.<br />
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Do we consciously think that our job, as parents, is to shape these little tiny humans? And to do it just right so we don't exacerbate something in them that triggers their natural tendency towards fear, or control, or disbelief?<br />
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Or are we speaking softly to them, raising them according to their individual bent, soothing their fears and teaching them the power of Gods love and his constant protection and oneness with us?<br />
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Do we do damage, or are we raising up the faithful? Who's hands are held high--as they cry out to Jesus and rely whole heartedly on Him to provide for all their needs. To give, as only He can.<br />
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My trip to Cambridge, as usual, provided much to think about.<br />
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I feel like today God reminded me to<i> try</i> to see others like He does. To speak sweetly and softly, with a heart of patience and love.<br />
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To be a <i>coach</i> to my kids....not the <i>warden.</i><br />
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To look up from that pit, although i feel tired and broken down, and to rely <i>not on my own strength </i>to take that difficult first step.....but on <i>His.</i><br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-35134439324432532422014-07-28T15:11:00.001-07:002014-07-28T15:19:50.941-07:0033!!!Well, today is my 33rd birthday.<br />
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Although, at this point, i am already feeling tired from all my celebrating this weekend, or as my Mom put it, "How long is this BIRTHDAY gonna last!?"<br />
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I have managed to have a beautiful birthday weekend.<br />
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And today is about the future.<br />
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As always, when my birthday approaches, i start thinking about the year that i've had and the new year that is upon me.<br />
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I try to put words to feelings, to goals, to mistakes, to choices, to plans.<br />
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And then i press on into the new year with a plan. <br />
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I greatly look forward to this each and every year and this year is no less.<br />
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If i had to sum up the year of 32, i would say the things that stick out in my mind most is the sad reality that my "fat lesbian pants" are officially now just "my pants."<br />
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So that's something that i am anxious to be rid of.<br />
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Also, i would say 32 was the year of <i>TERRIBLE</i> softball. I had the worst year, of my life, last year on the field. It was so depressing and frustrating.<br />
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But i am thankful to report that, after a few chiropractic visits and proper alignment (he'll want me to say that. Although i am sure it was just all me), i feel like i am back in the saddle and loving the game anew.<br />
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So as i look at the year 32 in my rear view mirror and head in to 33, i feel happy.<br />
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This is going to be a super year. I just know it.<br />
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Alright, here are my goals that i have set.<br />
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1.)<i> I will do a pull up within the year.</i> I have faithfully been practicing on the swing set every day. Its impossibly hard and embarrassing and frustrating and hard, like really hard. So very hard. Did i mention its hard? Case it hard. So hard.<br />
When i first decided i was going to do this, i was watching American Ninja Warrior, obviously--and it hit me. If i can do a pull up in life, i can probably do anything. Soooo, there ya go. The first day that i went out, with Jeromy and the kids, to try to do this--it was so unbelievably difficult and i hung there like a weirdo, not even knowing which muscles should fire as i held my breath and kicked my legs to no avail.. Which lead to frustration, which lead to my kicking a day lilly, which lead to my foot getting caught in an (unseen) tomato cage while trying to kick said day lily, which lead to the tomato cage ripping across my<i> other</i> leg, which lead to blood.. So basically i lost<i> twice</i> that day. But not for long.<br />
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2.) I am going to practice the art of <i>discipline</i>. Apparently its a thing. And i plan to tap into it.<br />
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3.) I think i'm going to<i> do a triathlon</i> with my cousin. Which has seriously been my life long dream--after the pullup, of course--since as long as i can remember. Only problem is i swim about as good as a rock and paddle about as confidently as a cat. Soooo, if ya wanna picture<i> that</i>.....go ahead.<br />
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Buuuut, since i'm going to practice discipline, i can do this. No bigs. Triathlon. Check.<br />
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4.)Lastly i wanted a <i>nose ring</i>. Because i still want to look feminine <i>but </i>also<i> </i>like maybe i can beat you up at the same time. You just don't know. You <i>don't know</i>. <i>Check.</i><br />
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So for my birthday weekend, i had so much fun with my family & friends who made it special.<br />
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And i want to publicly thank them.<br />
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Thank you Angela Sizer, my wonderful friend, for coffee and a treat at Caribou to kick start the weekend. Time with you is always perfection and much needed. Thank you for always having cool stuff to say--our relationship is full of excitement and really interesting conversations!<br />
And i seriously couldn't love that more.<br />
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Thank you Josh and Angie for Friday night. For the shirt, and the milk carrier---I LOVE IT ALL!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUkru7vucTQDlekvBYiRQZ0_EQJtU-6zLxQLPJ0DECibsw6H277RYc9XCl3KWN00IAD_UWLOiYXrx8igo0yrdHSwASgOy9JQvdSW5y8Z6AN6rF7OYGUSeKNTrUiB0veKPXRK5N_DyBzbL/s1600/Benihana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUkru7vucTQDlekvBYiRQZ0_EQJtU-6zLxQLPJ0DECibsw6H277RYc9XCl3KWN00IAD_UWLOiYXrx8igo0yrdHSwASgOy9JQvdSW5y8Z6AN6rF7OYGUSeKNTrUiB0veKPXRK5N_DyBzbL/s1600/Benihana.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Oh yea--and a special <i>THANKS</i> to my trusting friend Angie--who lets me bully her incessantly. Its one of the things i love most about you. ;) Just don't tell your Mom! We have a "blood in blood out" kinda friendship. And i love it. And i love you.<br />
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Here's a few photos from the weekend.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yw99nck4fZ7MeGVZRa6qoQd3rCVorCBnsH6nKvbXyN6N3uU1Qlx9P_nK_L1H9wYzSF6akYG487Sx6qulAkRgFjCNIClAdxTpo9zvpZkt9-s6Vxo-8cSWoTDsGduDxD7SBbbYS4PsQXnx/s1600/Piercing+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yw99nck4fZ7MeGVZRa6qoQd3rCVorCBnsH6nKvbXyN6N3uU1Qlx9P_nK_L1H9wYzSF6akYG487Sx6qulAkRgFjCNIClAdxTpo9zvpZkt9-s6Vxo-8cSWoTDsGduDxD7SBbbYS4PsQXnx/s1600/Piercing+1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Our impromptu piercing night.</div>
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That moment she stabbed my nose was sheer exhilaration!! And I loved it. (in a normal kinda way...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sPU9e-14OvxsJ7bDmsKY9DKFBmo5SzYKjfxka1hAhuwqVXhsetGMiuu7kg2HpzkRV4R4aeH8hJSr0igIQy7kcBmHL60nCPP7VJoofrEzIMgXCFtvaV2lkeAGy3t3aQTtPgg2fwDAqWoB/s1600/edited+piercing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sPU9e-14OvxsJ7bDmsKY9DKFBmo5SzYKjfxka1hAhuwqVXhsetGMiuu7kg2HpzkRV4R4aeH8hJSr0igIQy7kcBmHL60nCPP7VJoofrEzIMgXCFtvaV2lkeAGy3t3aQTtPgg2fwDAqWoB/s1600/edited+piercing.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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This picture is about .05 seconds after i got pierced. As you can tell, i'm really happy!</div>
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Us with our brand spankin' new piercing.</div>
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(Which, we found out, you can hardly even see in photos. Lol.)</div>
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(Also, Thank you Tiphany for being honest and encouraging and descriptive as you helped me prepare to get this done. You rule! I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you!)<br />
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Also, thank you my dear Sarah--for going out to Hell's Kitchen for Breakfast with me on Saturday and continuing the party. As always, i had a blast with you :) Here's an "armie" for ya. (selfie with an arm in it)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2skGEGvBpsPMafM1n3UsXYmP2IgeiFnCnYf3enG0DEuKgGxdsLWo4eqWcDmgMFWjjSApUpuh6A5f2NM6fmtgUWxCO5N3t6WClvLVqdAAHLAUJACMCN99HpEwj0NPNeY53vN9bEih85wV3/s1600/Edited+sarah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2skGEGvBpsPMafM1n3UsXYmP2IgeiFnCnYf3enG0DEuKgGxdsLWo4eqWcDmgMFWjjSApUpuh6A5f2NM6fmtgUWxCO5N3t6WClvLVqdAAHLAUJACMCN99HpEwj0NPNeY53vN9bEih85wV3/s1600/Edited+sarah.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I wanna thank my introverted brother who, even though you don't always want to, goes along with me to celebrate day after day and makes my birthdays so special! :) Thanks, Sog.<br />
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Thanks to my #1 Momma (and Dad) for doing and doing and<i> doing</i>--to make everyone happy at all times. You are too good to us--its why we kinda suck. <i>We're spoiled</i>! :) Life is good...because of you.<br />
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And of course, thanks to my hubby for always allowing me to come and go as i please. That's the best gift of all! </div>
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<br />
I am grateful today, for so many things, but mostly-- the<i> people</i>!!<br />
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<i>THANK YOU.</i><br />
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Now, if you'll excuse me....i've got a date with a swingset.Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-48854898892884492522014-07-16T09:20:00.000-07:002014-07-16T09:20:12.498-07:00to love or judge--that is the question.A couple weeks back, our computer went ca put. And being we are from 1983 we only have one computer in our home that plugs into the wall, no wifi, and cell phones that only text. So, what i'm sayin' is i had a lot of spare time to read. Which i LOVE more than anything.<br />
<br />
I guess when i say "spare time" i actually mean i just neglected every other duty in my world to finish up three books. I would say, totally worth it--Jeromy, not so much! Lol.<br />
<br />
As i have wondered and thought, because--turns out I have to scrub my floors, make dinner and get the laundry done today, two books have been lingering in my mind.<br />
<br />
I read books from all over the board. As long as they are true stories, i generally am interested.....or obsessed, with finishing them.<br />
<br />
I read Elizabeth Smarts book. (the Mormon girl who was kidnapped for 9 months and then found) and a book called The Hiding Place, about a Dutch family who helped hide the Jews while Holland was occupied.<br />
<br />
Now i find myself hanging in the balance, wondering what to think, when i consider these books. <br />
<br />
After reading Elizabeth Smarts book i was determined to remind my kids never to be<i> too</i> compliant, to anything. Never to just obey mindlessly. If you are ever taken,<i> you fight. You fight</i>. And then you<i> fight some more</i>. No matter what lies you are told or how afraid you feel.<br />
<br />
I have assumed the position that everyone, everywhere, at all times is scheming to take a child, and i am personally going to be the one to combat all evil by never, ever even looking to anyone in need. Ever.<br />
<br />
You're on the street begging for money? Yea-- probably so you can kidnap a child and make her your wife because you are all sorts of crazy. I know your type. <br />
<br />
I <i>fought</i> my natural urge to help someone who looked like they were in need--because behind all that "helplessness" lays poison. I mean, Ted Bundy preyed on the kindness of woman, took advantage of their concern for others in need. He was intelligent enough to think through his plans and then put them into action.<br />
<br />
And that sickens me. And makes me, honestly, turn a blind eye to all those in need. I feel myself saying <i>"Hey, we're all fighting through life here. I'm not helpin' you....carry your own bags."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I'm just speaking my own ugly truth here. I'm not saying its right (obviously). But if i kept my kids from danger by hurting someone else?? I'd do it a hundred times over.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to the book i just finished two days ago, and you'll find me on the complete other side. Not keeping the ugliness of the world and its people at arms length, but wanting to love with open arms. Because we are all Gods creation and no one person is better than the other in His eyes.<br />
<br />
Ugh.<br />
<br />
I just think that is a hard reality to accept.<br />
<br />
And i may be one short flew from the cuckoos nest here.<br />
<br />
The Hiding Place was a book about the Jews, but from a different perspective of that war. One i hadn't read until now. I have read book after book about the Holocaust and felt like there was no love to be found, <i>anywhere</i>, during that time. It was every man for himself. And it was heartbreaking. I just couldn't understand how people could turn a blind eye to these people. This group that was being exterminated, for what? It still infuriates me.<br />
<br />
But this book was different, this book was filled with love. Love and miracles. This family, who loved God and trusted in <i>His</i> will and<i> His</i> timing-<i>-to the core</i>, was unlike any family i had ever read about.<br />
The book is sure to inspire you and its such a remarkable story of Gods unfailing love and the strength He provides to us as humans. It reminded me again how physically powerful we were created and the enormous amount of pressure that we are capable of withstanding, but even more, how amazing God is and how without Him, <i>what hope do we have</i>?<br />
<br />
So after reading those two books i find myself going through, what i like to call, "The Elizabeth Smart/Hiding place effect". <br />
<br />
For example the other day i was taking my girls to school and i saw a man mowing the schools lawn.<i> Aww, that's a nice job to have. He probably needs love.</i> Then i realized he was just smiling....at nothing. Just riding and smiling. And i was immediately like "<i>hey, lets take that smile down a few notches, buddy. Ain't no one got time for that kind of happy. That is, unless they are planning to snatch little children, which--judging by your smile--you are."</i><br />
<br />
Ya see? I'm in a weird place. Unsure of what to even think. I fight my natural tendency to fear all things. And yet, i also rely on that fear for protection.<br />
<br />
Maybe i'm the weirdo.<br />
<br />
I am a real, idealist. I believe that, through Christ, all thinks can be good. They can be ideal. I really believe that we can get there. But i also believe that really bad people do exist and I'm going to do everything in my power to find them and beat them.....err, i mean avoid them.<br />
<br />
Does anyone else's brains work like this?<br />
<br />
Please tell me other people see these things and ponder on them.<br />
<br />
I mean, you <i>do</i> think--don't you? Beyond whats for breakfast and your "to do" lists for the day.<br />
<br />
I don't know.....i guess i am just thinking out loud.<br />
<br />
Trying, as usual, to find the medium in my life and trying--desperately--to listen, trust and rely on God. In all things.<br />
<br />
But darn it if our human flesh doesn't just get in the way. <br />
<br />
Sometimes i get so wrapped up in the bad of the world, and my fears and all this evil, that i take it on my own weak, weak shoulders and forget to give it to the man with the biggest of shoulders.<br />
<br />
To just trust God with my fears.<br />
<br />
It sounds so very easy.....<br />
<br />
And yet, here i sit, dealing with my "Elizabeth Smart/Hiding Place effect", wondering who deserves love and who doesn't....<br />
<br />
And that answer is simple: Just keep an eye out for anyone who smiles too much or looks as if they haven't showered in days because they live in a make shift tent that they built in the mountains because they are insane in the membrane and think its okay to kidnap 14 year old girls because they want yet <i>another</i> wife who they will keep against her will. But be really, really careful not to confuse<i> that</i> person with the one who looks that way because they have actually been in a concentration camp, where they were beaten, humiliated, starved and made to live as animals. Who is alone because they watched as their family slowly died, one by one, each a horribly tragic death-because Hitler was the spawn of satan-and now they have no place left in this world to go, because, by the grace of God......<i>They're finally free</i>. And desperately in need of love.<br />
<br />
Judge accordingly.<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-12779108920631061022014-05-19T13:16:00.001-07:002014-05-19T14:54:40.421-07:00No school.I'm going to try to make this quick, since i have been informed that sometimes my blogs can get.....long. :) <br />
<br />
A week ago i handed in my permission slip for Ruby to go on her class field trip to the Como Planetarium and i also submitted my volunteer slip.<br />
<br />
Ruby informed me that if too many parents volunteer that they would have to draw from a hat and i might not get picked.<br />
<br />
No bigs.<br />
<br />
I did the math and knew my odds couldn't be less than 50%. It was likely i'd get picked.<br />
<br />
Fast forward 5 days. I knew it was "drawing day" and before Ruby left for school i informed her of my <i>NEED</i> to get picked. I told her maybe she could tell her teacher that too....wink wink.<br />
<br />
She came home and i was all, "Sooo? Soooo? Am i going with you!?" And she wouldn't tell me so i had to wait.<br />
<br />
At dinner i asked her again, smiling, confident i was picked, and she said "why don't ya go change your clothes?" Which is code for she put it on my bed. <br />
<br />
I cheerfully ran to my room, hooting and hollering, only to find the slip of paper that informed me that the names were put into a hat and then selected, but alas, mine had NOT been drawn.<br />
<br />
Guh.<br />
<br />
I instantly went into silent panic mode. I didn't know<i> HOW </i>the heck i would be able to let my child go on a field trip far, far away to a distant land,<i> without me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I put it out of my mind. Telling Ruby it was no biggie anyways.<br />
<br />
But come Friday, i though i should maybe email the teacher just telling her of my apprehension and ask, beg, plead to get a spot on that trip.<br />
<br />
But i didn't.<br />
<br />
I don't know why. <br />
<br />
I think maybe because i already knew she wasn't going.<br />
<br />
I just <i>couldn't </i>do it.<br />
<br />
I thought about it all weekend.<br />
<br />
Finally on Sunday i just told Jeromy that, "<i> I can't do this. There no way i can send her away with out me</i>."<br />
<br />
Like the wonderful guy he is--he agreed.<br />
<br />
As i woke up today, i still wasn't sure what i would do. I knew what i <i>should </i>do. I know what is the <i>rational </i>thing to do. The<i> normal</i> thing to do.<br />
<br />
But honestly, there was nothing in my body that was saying <i>"let her go</i>."<br />
<br />
Even when her and Junior got into an all out brawl and i was totally ticked at her, i still couldn't send her.<br />
<br />
I tried to threaten it. I did say "<i>Get your clothes on and get ready for school.</i>"<br />
<br />
But at this point she assumed she was going anyways....so that didn't make any sense.<br />
<br />
Finally i sat her on my bed and just looked her in the eyes and asked her if she wanted to go. I tried to tell her she would have a good experience and that her friends would love it and it would likely be awesome.<br />
<br />
But then i said, ".....<i>or you can just stay home with me</i>?"<br />
<br />
..................................................<br />
<br />
<br />
She choose<i> home</i>. And i never looked back.<br />
<br />
I even<i> knew</i> my decision was wrong. I knew about 98% of parents wouldn't agree. But i also knew that my heart was <i>100% made up</i>. <br />
<br />
And if i let her stay....well, then Laney had to stay too.<br />
<br />
The deal was done.<br />
<br />
I could live to breath another day with my kids under my wing.<br />
<br />
(i can actually<i> hear</i> you guys shaking your heads right now.....i<i> KNOW</i>. But i don't care. )<br />
<br />
Well, we headed to Hans Bakery to meet our friends and all was good.<br />
<br />
We stayed for a short time with our friends and headed out to meet Uncle at the book store.<br />
<br />
Never once did i waiver from my decision.<br />
<br />
It <i>is</i> just school after all.<br />
<br />
And its only one day. Plus---it was raining.<br />
<br />
And Ruby was supposed to eat lunch at a park after the planetarium thing. And the thought of my baby girl just sitting all out in the open in the world, that is actually what sealed the deal for me. Her in a <i>PARK</i>? Just all out there eating? Ummmm,<i> NO way</i>! Not happening.<br />
<br />
On our way back up from the book store, i said "<i>lets see a show</i>!" And then I called my Mom to get the times for a show i wanted the kids to see.<br />
<br />
The timing was perfect.<br />
<br />
Million Dollar Arm was playing in 15 minutes and i was on my way. And my Mom decided to meet us there as well.<br />
<br />
Perfection.<br />
<br />
School, schmool--i wasn't even thinking about it and my complete irrational (or very, very rational) fear that i am likely going to have to deal with at some point.<br />
<br />
But not today.<br />
<br />
We got in the theatre and i watched a movie about baseball.<br />
<br />
It was perfect.<br />
<br />
I wanted my kids to breath this movie in. I wanted them to love it as much as i did.<br />
<br />
They<i> kind of </i>did.<br />
<br />
Barely.<br />
<br />
But as i walked out of that show, a true story, about two boys from India who worked so hard and left their life to try to play baseball in America. It was so stinking inspiring and heart wrenching and beautiful. (don't worry, i won't tell you any more than that)<br />
<br />
I loved it.<br />
<br />
I recommend it.<br />
<br />
As I thought about these boys who left India, their families, the safety of what they knew, to pursue this thing., this American Baseball, i couldn't help but think about the fact that i kept my girl from a field trip.<br />
<br />
I had a mix of emotions that flowed from the thought of my kids chasing their dreams, loving something so much that they were willing to work hard for it and persevere towards it. And then the reality of the fact that i had them with me because i was scared of a field trip.<br />
<br />
I didn't waiver about my decision.....I was only aware of it, people. The irony was not lost on me.<br />
<br />
Either way, as we walked out--<i> i was happy</i>. I had my kids. We were with Grandma. We watched a movie. We got a book. The day was perfect.<br />
<br />
I called Jeromy as i drove home and he asked me how the day was. I told him. And then he asked me if i got the calls from the school.<br />
<br />
Yes. The one about them being absent? Yea, i got it.<br />
<br />
<i>What about the other one?</i> He asked.<br />
<br />
<i>Uhhh, nu-uh? What one is that? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
He proceeded to tell me that he got a second call saying that the entire St. Francis school district was in <b><i>lock down.</i></b><br />
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.......................................................<br />
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<br />
.....................(blink, blink).............................<br />
<br />
<br />
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......................................................<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>"Uhhhhhh, come again?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Ya, the entire district went on "lock down" (a lesser version of it. no one in or out) because of something that happened in St. Francis city.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<i>(increase heart beat)</i>...........................<br />
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..................................................(<i>difficulty swallowing)</i>....................<br />
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..........................(<i>Sudden urge to throw up</i>)...................................<br />
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<br />
......................."<i>SEE!!!! I TOLD you i wasn't crazy for keeping them home!!"</i><br />
<br />
You see, you guys, i would have gone <i>completely</i>, 100% John Rambo on the school, had i known Ruby was about to return and Laney was in the school during this time. <br />
<br />
Like, i'm talking red sash around my head and everything crazy! I would have<i> had </i>to get them home. Do you guys even KNOW that feeling? That fear that we constantly have to face now because a handful of idiots have gone into schools and hurt kids!!! We have to be afraid now, because of them. And i hate that. In the deepest part of my being. I hate it. And them, for doing this to us.<br />
<br />
I fought the fear rising up in me as i drove closer to my house. My brain was on overload. I was like, making plans to own a bomb shelter and never have my kids more than a 5 foot radius apart from me. I was on the verge of going full blown <i>cuckoo</i> thinking that maybe someone was on the loose.<br />
<br />
But then i pulled my boot straps up, I got home. Brought the dog inside and did a straight up sweep of the house. I'm talking total SVU style. I was calling out, "Clear.....Clear....." as i checked every room. It made me feel powerful. The kids got it too. They know the drill from school. Sadly.<br />
<br />
So, long story long, i kept my kids home today. I just felt like i should. And unfortunately this crazy lock down situation has like<i> totally</i> exacerbated my total neurosis.<br />
<br />
But i'll address that<i> another day.</i><br />
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As for today, <b><i>the kids stay with me</i>.</b><br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-6657892411511817212014-05-08T09:34:00.004-07:002014-05-08T09:45:16.057-07:00I am...i said.Everyone knows the term "Margaritaville". Although i am not sure if i have ever been.....i would have welcomed the invitation last night. But instead, i was in<i> </i><i>MIGRAINE</i>ville. Equally as difficult to wake up from, but much less fun the night before.<br />
<br />
Ugh. You see, i got a killer migraine last night as i watched teeball. I was talking to Sarah when i looked down and it appeared as if my hands were not my own. A tell tale sigh of what is to come.<br />
<br />
<i>No WAY!</i>! i thought as i panicked and started to feel a bit of nausea rising in my throat. I shook my hands, as if to somehow tell my brain i had misread the signs.<br />
<br />
But alas, no more than 4 minutes later, <i>the lights went out.</i><br />
<br />
I lost my vision on my lower left side--not to be confused with the upper east side--which is a much cooler thing.<br />
<br />
Thankfully we only had a few minutes left of the game. <br />
<br />
I signaled Jeromy of the impeding doom and whispered <i>"i can't see</i>." Which, the poor guy, has learned to understand as "i'm dead to the world for about 30 minutes until i can see again, so will you take over?!"<br />
<br />
We got the kids in the van and i sat in the passenger seat. (not my style, i like to control the wheel) and i just shut my eyes, as i still watched the squiggly lines dance across my eyes lids. Ugh. Its the <i>WORST.</i><br />
<br />
As i sat there, silently writhing in pain, i hear my new mix CD play and felt an indescribable comfort wash over me as i heard Neil Diamond's beautiful voice flow from the speakers. <br />
<br />
"LA's fine but it ain't home. New Yorks home but it ain't mine.....no moooooore." I whispered along with him. Finding strength to go on as i felt verbally cradled in Neil Diamonds arms.<br />
<br />
Whatever. Its weird. But i kind of obsessively love him. And that's how i felt. Plus, i'm half blind here, people, be a little nicer!!<br />
<br />
"I am...I said......to no one there. And no ONE e-VEN heard NOT eventhechair...."<br />
<br />
When we got home, I climbed into the tub--hoping to silently drown...err, i mean, to rest.<br />
For some odd reason, after i got out of the tun, i felt the need to make puppy chow in my blind stuper. (odd reason? As IF.)<br />
<br />
The kids were in bed, Jeromy went to bed and i lay on the couch. Starting to lose my darn vision AGAIN! But insisting to myself that maybe the puppy chow would help?! Right.<br />
<br />
I turned off the tv. Cause who can enjoy it when you can't even SEE the darn thing. Plus, i was watching The Blacklist, something that takes 100% of my undivided attention.<br />
<br />
I lay in the dark. Watching the squiggly lines. Feeling like an alien in my stinkin body. Like, i can't explain it--but i just felt odd. Like i was there, but not really. Again, it would have been a better feeling had i discovered it through Margaritaville, yes?<br />
<br />
I fell asleep for a moment and awoke the the familiar burning sensation in my left hand mixed with a painful numbness. This headache wasn't getting better and i was just going to have to suffer through it.<br />
<br />
I decided to climb into bed. I opened the window at the bottom of my bed and stared at the moonlit night. The wind howled as i thought<i>, Is this is? Maybe this is the end. Crap. I'm dying. Figures.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I didn't sleep much last night as i lay in bed, feeling the crushing pain in my head along with the annoying numbness that just comes and goes.<br />
<br />
So this morning, when i woke up. I felt like i was in a scene from a movie where the main character partied a<i> little </i>to hard the night before.<i> </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I'm not kidding. My <i>hair follicles </i>actually hurt this morning. My hair is a mess, my eye liner lingered from poor facewashing--you know, since putting my head even close to lower than my heart makes me think it will explode! and i stumbled out of bed in a bit of a Migraine stuper. Junior gave me a kiss and told me he prayed for me last night. His kind words felt like a<i> YELL</i>. And the gentle kiss felt aggressive. Like maybe the act of his lips touching my cheek actually caused my brain to go crashing into my skull.<br />
<br />
Ow.<br />
<br />
As i walked around like a drunky, and wondered why this headache hadn't even subsided one iota. I thought again, how lame my body is.<br />
<br />
Sometimes i actually have this conversation with my self. "We're a teeeeeam, head. Why do you keep <i>fighting </i>me? What is your <i>problem</i>, man? We can be so much better. We could be <i>invincible</i> together you and me! We're stronger when we work <i>as one</i>. Why the H. E. double hockey sticks, do you <i>HATE </i>me so??<br />
<br />
Like the complete <i>psycho</i> that is MY HEAD.....it doesn't even bother to EVER respond to my questions.<br />
<br />
Typical brain.<br />
<br />
Anywhoo.<br />
<br />
I got the kids on the bus. Got Junior in the van and put on the biggest and darkest pair of sunglasses i could find. Although i needed to turn my headlights on--due to the fog--it was still a <i>really bright fog.</i><br />
<br />
I walked into preschool, noticing that my face never seemed to match my attempts at smiling.<br />
<br />
As i sit here, i am just annoyed at my stupid self. Like, this has been 32 years in the running, Head. What the heck!!<br />
<br />
At any moment in life that may cause any excitement or thrill for me--Boom--<i>-shut it down. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Oh, you are excited for your OWN bachelorette party. Going down town with all your friends? <i> Shut it down.</i><br />
<br />
You're playing your tournament softball game for the 27 year in a row and are having a blast?? <i>Shut it down. Lights out.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Going to Milwaukee with your brother to help with a big pressure wedding and its your first time being away from your kids overnight in like 6 years?? What that? You're happy? <i> Shut. it. down. Repeatedly.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
My body just keeps doing this. And i am so mad about it.<br />
<br />
I'm like a fainting goat, for Pete's sake. Don't anybody dare clap near me---or i'll likely just fall to the ground in a heap of fur and goat hooves.<br />
<br />
Like a total winner.<br />
<br />
Its like i my controlling head doesn't want me to be happy or to anxiously anticipating <i>anything</i>. I'm only allowed to live in east bethel. Drive on hwy 65 and shop at Target. That is all. Any deviation from that pattern? <i> Shut her down.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Also, don't add any stress to this girls life. Problems with the ex? <i>Lights ou</i>t. Stress about anything? <i>Goodnight. </i>Fight with a friend over a blog on facebook?<i> Cue the numbness....</i><br />
<br />
Speaking of Jake Morrow.(see how i did that?) I want to quickly have a conversation about that last blog (insert wince). All is perfectly well between him and I. Jake is very much a quality human being and i would pretty much trust him with my life. Soooo, just wanted to get that out there :) Lets say i overreacted. And he responded like a true gentleman. My friend. Jake.<br />
<br />
But back to my Mary Kate Olsen-like appearance.<i> Fine!!</i> Mary Kate plus about 100 pounds.<br />
<br />
I've got my huge black glasses on, disheveled hair, a coffee in hand and my over sized sweatshirt on, walking out of Panera. ( i lied. It was a perfectly<i> fitting</i> sweatshirt. Cause nothing is too oversized for me.<i>OKAY? Why don't ya just kick when i'm down, already. Geez.</i>)<br />
<br />
I got into my car. Head pounding. Frustrating mounting as Panera, of <i>COURSE</i>, didn't have what i wanted,<br />
and i put on my mix CD (that i made. To: Me. Love: Me.) and i gently whispered along with Johnny Cash as his beautiful voice --steady like a train and sharp like a knife--lamented on about that torturous <i>Ring of Fire</i>.<br />
<br />
"<i>the taste.....of love is sweet. When hearts......like ours meet......"</i><br />
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So now that i am home with out any kids for three hours, you know what me and my bully of a brain are going to do??<br />
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Umm, only what every other respectable human being would do....<br />
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I'm gonna draw the curtains, watch Moulin Rouge and fold clothes.<br />
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And its gonna be<i> GLORIOUS.</i>....<br />
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So if you see me in the street today, please just <i>whisper</i>. 'Cause I went to Migraineville yesterday.....and I'm not yet recovered.<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-66472889252016789532014-05-01T13:07:00.003-07:002014-05-01T13:45:02.268-07:00To my critic.I wrote a blog the other day. And it clearly didn't sit well with someone.<br />
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I'm not sure who. Because they only posted anonymously to me.<br />
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Which makes it a tiny bit hard to straighten out--you know, since it was anonymous and all.<br />
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Donthcha think?<br />
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I am just going to do a bit of clarifying here.<br />
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I want to clarify to you, all my friends, what my blog is. My blog is just about my feelings. What i am thinking. What i want to express at the very moment. Sometimes i use it to process, for myself. Sometimes i write to laugh. To understand. And to lighten up.<br />
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My last post--<i>about the Jews</i>--was not intended to offend anyone.<br />
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But like everything, someone managed to find offense.<br />
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And that somebody choose to leave an anonymous comment on my blog. Although they later deleted it. The email still came to me with their words. Their critiques of my writings and their defense of their mother, who was clearly a working mom.<br />
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And i have a few things to say about that comment.<br />
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I'll use the example of the<i> sandbur.</i> We have lots of these in East Bethel and deal with them all Summer.<br />
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And ain't nobody like the<i> sandburs.</i><br />
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You know how when you grab a ball and a<i> sandbur</i> is on that ball, it pricks your finger and it hurts, right?<br />
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But then you pull it out and go about your business as usual. 'Cause its not the end of the world to get a <i>sandbur</i> in your finger.<br />
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And then later that night, you go to make dinner and you grab a knife and you notice your finger--<i>it still hurts</i>.<br />
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But you can't really do anything about it, cause you already pulled out the <i>sandbur.</i><br />
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So you continue on.<br />
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And then that next day, you go to write a note to your kids teacher and you find that when you pick up a pencil-<i>-it hurts again.</i> Your finger tip is sore.<br />
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But you forget about it, because you can do nothing about it, the damage was done. You can't undo the <i>sandbur</i> prick.<br />
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Even after the actual source of your pain is removed.......the hurt can linger.<br />
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So, lets just say that my little critic was a sandbur---a <i>prick</i>, if you will.<br />
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And their words probably came to them quickly as they made the conscious effort to write on my blog. It wasn't a big deal to them, i assume. <br />
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But the affects of their words, although deleted, lingered.<br />
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And i really would love to talk about that, to explain my words to them and to hear what they thought but <i>unfortunately</i>, a conversation will never be held since they posted it anonymously.<br />
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<i>Fortunately, </i>though, I do think i know who this person is.<br />
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I write my blog today, as always, with only my <i>opinions</i> in it. Never have i had hard facts about much of what i've said.<br />
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You know, I absolutely love a good book, I like to talk through every twist and turn. I like to look deeper, find the true message they are trying to send. I enjoy how a movie can transport you to a different place and time. I think music has meaning and paints beautiful pictures. I appreciate art and every aspect of it all. Their talent is not lost on me. Not one bit. And I long, <i>with all of my heart</i>, to hold a candle stick to anything good. I would give anything to create something beautiful. Something that touches others. Something that brings them joy. Transports them. Makes them think. Makes them smile. Even laugh. To evoke emotion. But you know what? Even though i can't compete with so many other people, even though i am <i>not a scholar</i>--i am still going to write. Because i am okay with not being the best. It doesn't bother me. I'm okay with just being.... okay. Some posts work, and some don't. I know that. You don't have to tell me. Because i already know and i am just okay with that.<br />
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Because it is <i>fun</i>, it <i>fills my soul</i>, it puts <i>words to my feelings</i>. It makes me <i>happy</i>.<br />
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My blog about the little Jewish boy who longed for his mothers touch--<i> broke my heart</i>. And i wanted to remind myself--and any one of the 6 people that read this--the value of being a<i> Mom</i>.<br />
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I didn't say a "stay-at-home mom" and i didn't say a "working mom". 'Cause we are all one in the same.<br />
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That post was never an attack on the working woman.<br />
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For heavens sake, I am<i> so totally over this stay-at-home vs. working Mom thing</i>!!! <br />
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I have so many beautiful friends who are working moms and who are amazing. And i know so many awesome stay at home moms that do a great job. Any shortcoming of a Mother is in their <i>own behavior</i> or <i>personality</i>. <i>Not </i>their job title. You can be a crappy stay at home mom or a crappy working mom. That all on <i>you</i>. So this invisible war--i am no part of. I've made my mistake by stating my big opinions on the issue long ago and i hurt someone i cared about. And then i learned from my mistake. I don't know why we can't just ban together, <i>as women</i>. This crazy divide about who's insulting whom or who works harder than the other. I'm not in it. I won't be.We shouldn't do it to each other.<br />
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I speak passionately about two things. My love for my kids. And the power of Jesus Christ. I'll always go down fighting for these two things. But please don't misunderstand that when i speak of loving my kids and giving them my heart, i'm not speaking only as a stay-at-home mother.<br />
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My blog was about <i>MOTHERS</i>. Every kind. Whether you get 19 hours with your kids a day or 30 minutes. The point was, <i>MAKE THOSE MOMENTS COUNT!</i>!<br />
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So to my anonymous critic, who felt the need to assure me of their mothers love and affection then and now (all while she climbed the corporate ladder). Good for you. I'm glad she loved you. No one ever implied she didn't.<br />
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I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that blog<i> </i>wasn't<i> </i>about <i>you.</i><br />
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But my guess is that maybe you think lots of things in life are about you? So instead of seeing the heartbreaking point of a child being torn from his mother and longing for her tender touch, you chose to defend an invisible attack.<br />
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And not only defend it, but you chose to insult me in the process. I typed a word wrong. It was spelled incorrectly and you, in all of your splendor, would never do such a dunce-like thing. My spelling offended you. It must have, since you thought it would be better to point out my stupidity than to overlook it. I mean, I understand, i too, was concerned about my lack of word finding skills and the sudden difficulty that i had spelling--so i had an MRI done last year. Its something that i worry about on my own. But <i>thank you</i> for pointing that out to me.<br />
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And like that prick i talked about earlier. That is the part of your comment that still stings just a tiny bit.<br />
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Because, you see, i have never claimed to know it all. In fact, if you know me, you know i can't seem to get <i>anything</i> right. And it really sucks. But<b> </b>i <i>am</i> aware of it.<br />
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Your poisonous little prick really has had a lasting affect. Whether you intended it to or not.<br />
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I find such frustration and weakness in the voice of the Internet. The satisfaction people get in saying hurtful things and then hitting "send" and letting cyberspace do the rest of the dirty work. Never do we take ownership for our words anymore. We don't even sign our names, for petes sake. These bullish people who feel the need to respond to everything out there and yet never stay long enough, or are brave enough, to say things to each others faces? They lack empathy. We face a world void of empathy because we never get to truly<i> see</i> how our words can make other people<i> feel.</i> We don't see the pain, or the momentary wince, that warns us of our words effect and teaches us to be more careful with our tongue. For we are all human. And no one is perfect. <br />
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The buggar is, we all have a weak spot in life. A place of vulnerability. Something we don't want anyone to know about--for fear they may attack. And you know what, dear critic? Somehow you managed, <i>perfectly, </i>to find mine.<br />
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How wonderful for you.<br />
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But i won't linger here long. Soon i will forget the whole thing.<br />
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It is only fresh in my mind today. And, you know what happens when i think, well darnit if i don't end up typing about it. <br />
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I'm sorry that you were unintentionally offended by my words after you misinterpreted them. I thought i had clarified that part in my last blog. Maybe you missed it.<br />
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Now if you'll escuce me, i'm gunna go and warch my chikens play in da wadder. Cause us dummies, we like ta look at da chikens.<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-4370125171432539132014-04-29T14:25:00.002-07:002014-04-30T10:43:25.772-07:00Momma's touchLately i have found my self very interested, nay, <i>obsessed </i>with the tellings of the Jewish people and their unimaginable journey into the concentration camps. I find myself grasping at all the information that i can get and reading book after book about that frightful period in time.<br />
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I find myself feeling guilty as i read it. I find myself feeling angry at the Germans. I also find myself wondering, how? <i>How</i> would i have lived in that time. Who would<i> i </i>have been.<i> What</i> would i have done. How would i have <i>handled</i> it?<br />
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I have worked hard to keep my overwhelming fear of the unknown and the end times at bay. Consciously. For fear of my own demise.<br />
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And so when i dig deeply into the stories of Jewish death camps.....I can't<i> help</i> but allow my mind to connect the dots between the gravity of their fates and the misguided fear of my own potential fate. The fear that i have of living out Revelations. Fighting to the end.<br />
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All the stories of survivors and witnesses alike, tell the same fateful tale. The stars on their clothing, the gathering of Jews and the horrendous conditions, the cattle cars and the camps. Some lived to tell about it, scarred. Some didn't. And its something that i force myself to think about--because i fear that if i don't--it makes their suffering somehow less. Because it is our history as a world, though ugly, and one that i feel the least i can do, is read about. No matter how hard it may be.<br />
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As a Mother these stories have such a different meaning to me than they did before. To separate a mother from her child? I can think of no greater evil.<br />
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In the current book that i am reading, a young boy--only 13, is at Auschwitz and was recently separated from his sisters and Mother earlier that day. He is with his Father in torturous conditions. They are stripped naked, shaved bald and humiliated. He speaks of that first night in the camp. Standing in a room with no floor. Walls, but no roof and the smell of death all around him. He finally finds sleep.(while standing). And he writes about his dream. He said, "I <i>dreamed of a bed, my mothers hand on my face</i>..."<br />
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Its not much. Not intense or dramatic. And he was soon awakened to the harsh realities of his current situation.<br />
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But for<i> me</i>, that line, that one tiny line touched deep in my heart.<br />
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Read it again, and think of<i> your</i> child dreaming that dream. It hurts doesn't it?<br />
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It is such a great reminder of the power of our loving touch. The power of a <i>Mother</i>. How a child longs for the comforting, safe, love of their Momma.<br />
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It stirred me. It awoken in me an even deeper desire to hold my children close.<br />
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I think about how we fuss with "baby wising" our kids, in hopes of getting them on a schedule. Or how we hurry through bed time, story time, for our own quiet space. How we always seem to get annoyed when they play in the bathroom instead of just brushing their teeth at night. We regulate if we are parenting with "enough" rules or "not enough". Are they "problem solving" the way they should be. Maybe they should have more chores at this age? Lessen our loads. How can we grow them properly and quick enough so that we--as parents--aren't inconvenienced?<br />
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I hate that. All of it.<br />
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Now don't get your panties all in a bunch 'cause i said something that almost offended you. I don't need to hear your opinion on "the importance of chores and getting them on a schedule". Or hear that facts on how "if kids can't read by 3 they will never get into College?" Or "4 years in preschool is the new black." " Potty training at 7 months means my kid is on the fast track in life." Basically, so many people try to imply--very passive aggressively--that their kid is going to be the valedictorian and pretty much everyone else's kids will be wearing the dunce hat. To them, structure = succeeding at everything. (And if you are a new parent reading this, please don't ever fall into their unhappy little trap. Love your kid. That's <i>all</i> they need. You are never inadequate if you are <i>present.</i>) Don't miss my point here, i am not ripping on structure, for i know it brings many benefits and positives. I only say sometimes we focus so heavily on the future that we actually end up missing the present. And that scares me.<br />
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We have a pretty intense bedtime routine at our house. With lots of stories, lots of kissing, lots of praying and then a final snuggle until we hear our kids breath change into that slow and constant rhythm--ensuring us of their complete transition into slumber.<br />
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Some night i just look over at my boy, as he lays peacefully, sleeping. And my heart feels like it may very well explode with my undying love for him. I just want to breath him in and never lose him.<br />
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And yet even when i know this and love it--<i>some nights i just want to hurry bedtime. </i> And of course that is human and each day is different. We aren't robots and some days call for different things. But reading these stories have just reminded me, once again, that very important detail we sometimes miss in a day. Time. Touch. Freedom. Purity. Togetherness. Peace. Safety. Love. No agenda. Just presence with one another. Something not everyone has the luxury of giving. Something we would miss tremendously--<i>if it were ripped from us.</i><br />
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Today my heart broke for the boy who longed for his Momma's loving touch but......<i> it wasn't there</i>. For the boy who had to smell death in the air as he watched the black smoke billow from the crematorium. For the boy who endured so much suffering for no good reason.<br />
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It reminds me, again, to look at my kids like the gifts that they are. The treasure that i hold so dear to my heart. Because when it all comes down to it--without the human connection--<i>we have nothing. </i><br />
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The time we waste chasing dreams, pursuing goals, furthering education, climbing up the corporate ladder, chasing the almighty dollar, taking care of #1--that all pales in comparison to our love and our flesh. Our family.<br />
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And i, for one, want my kids to <i>always </i>know my touch. To long for it when they are scared. To reach for it in when they are hurt. To look to it for love. And I pray they are <i>always able to find it.</i><br />
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Because, to me, nothing else in this whole wide world, even comes close to the enormity of that weight. The weight of being<i> </i>their<i> Mom.</i><br />
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I wouldn't trade my job as Mom for anything in this whole wide world. Because if we lost our house--it would be a bummer. If we had no car--that would stink. If Jeromy's job was gone--it would be hard.<br />
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But i would lose it all--just to be able to put my hand on my children's cheek to reassure them of my love.<br />
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Because what if i <i>lost</i> that ability??<br />
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Oh how I would spend my<i> whole life</i> regretting those precious moments that i had missed....<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-42153395866249816842014-04-15T11:00:00.001-07:002014-04-15T11:30:36.039-07:00FriendsHi there!!<br />
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I feel like i have been on hiatus these past few weeks, maybe months. I don't know if it been for lack of inspiration or what....</div>
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In fact, i find myself frequently quoting a movie, which a friend of mine wrote about a while back, that has just really stuck in my head. Its from one of my all time favorite movies, Dances with Wolves. </div>
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"Why don't he write?" (thanks for the reminder, Angie L (ps if you want to watch that movie together any time, i'm totes IN))</div>
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I often say that to myself about myself. Like, "why don't you write?" And i don't really have the answer.</div>
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Nope, thats a lie. </div>
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I've been burned of late. Did you know that when you just put it all out there---it come back at ya? Lol.</div>
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Yea, that can get annoying.</div>
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So many people are watching, judging, listening, questioning. And as much as i want to say KNOCK IT OFF!! I know i, too, am a watcher and a listener. I hear what people say and then i watch to see if those actions match.</div>
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So that's why i took a break. Too many opinions that i didn't care to deal with. In fact, i think i was sick of myself too. But try getting away from me....its not an easy task!!</div>
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But today, as i sat at Caribou with one of my favorite friends, Angela, and we talked about everything under the sun and laughed and disagreed and gave our opinions and discussed all the worlds problems i felt <i>happy. </i></div>
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<i>Just happy.</i></div>
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And ya know what? When you haven't felt like that in a while, you recognize it quickly and you hold on to it dearly.</div>
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That Angela, i just love being with her. </div>
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We always have so much to talk about, so many topics to cover, and so much to tell. </div>
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And when i get to a gettin (like i can) about a topic that may stem from an obsessive patriotism that can come across a bit....errr......harsh. Like i may have said something like "<b>America--love it or leave it!</b>" (insert pointed finger in her direction to really drive my point home) She just chimes in to defend the other side. And i roll my eyes, forgetting how very liberal she is. </div>
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But through it all, i can laugh. There is joy in my heart. She reminds me that if she is silent she doesn't want me to assume that she agrees. So she tells me her thoughts regarding my soapbox stuff. She even asked me today, "Have you been watching Fox News?" LOL. Never is she condemning me or patronizing me, there is always a twinkle in her eyes and i know i am safe.</div>
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And that's a rare thing.</div>
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Its not something that we have to <i>work at</i>, its just easy being with her. Now, i don't know if she would say the same.....but i hope so :) But our relationship had a bump in it. Kind of a big one. And i had to take a tiny step back for a second and evaluate if it was wroth the fight. And you know what? It was<i> very </i>worth the fight. I am thankful to this day that we chose to fight to stay friends. Cause she's just <i>so great</i>.</div>
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As i left Caribou today, i think the sun shone brighter. I smiled a bit bigger. </div>
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My friends. They are so very important to me.</div>
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I often think of another quote that is wildly popular right now. Its from the movie Frozen.</div>
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Olaf lights a fire to keep poor Anna warm--even though by choosing to care for her, he was choosing to put himself second. Ya see, he's a snowman. (like anyone doesn't know) so the fire would melt him.</div>
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And the line every ones goes gaga over is when she panics and says "<i>Olaf!! You're melting</i>!" and he responds, calmly, "<i>Some people are worth melting for</i>." </div>
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Of course i like that line too, but its not like its a new concept for me.</div>
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I feel like there has been fires we walk through as friends and many times you have to choose to melt or to leave. To fight for it or against it.</div>
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And i like to fight for my friendships. I wish everyone did.</div>
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A few years ago when i lost my friend Sarah, my heart hurt. Literally i was in a pain i had never felt, for a whole year, until i decided that she was worth fighting for. I would have stood by a fire and melted for her. And i finally realized that and I fought to tell her that and to mend all brokenness that was between us. I'd have eaten crow for days. I didn't care who did what. I just knew i wanted her back in my life. I missed her something fierce.</div>
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And ya know what. I am so thankful, to this day, that i couldn't forget her. Cause i thought i wanted to. Can you believe it? Who would want to be with out her? She's totally awesome. And that fact that i can speak her name aloud now, with out hurting inside, is a good thing. Its something i have been forever changed by. I learned through all of my failures as a friend to her what is valuable and what isn't. And there wasn't an opinion or a disagreement that i had with her that was EVER worth losing her over. </div>
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I would mend it a hundred times over.</div>
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There are friends in life that come and go (and squirrels, amiright?). And that is perfectly okay with me. The ebb and flow of life. I am trying to learn to let it flow naturally. Though i want to hold everyone close and battle through the differences. </div>
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But i've found recently that not everyone feels the same way. Some people don't care as much. And i guess that s fine. But its not <i>me. </i>Heck, i'm trying to mend things with Jeromy's ex wife.....soooo, that tells you how totally nice i am! ;) Lol.</div>
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Ya see, i don't like brokenness in things. Not in <i>my </i>people. Its not okay to break something and not repair it. Because a broken thing that never gets fixed? Well, it just stays broken.</div>
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And' I'm not a fan of broken.</div>
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I know people sometimes call that weak. A person who thinks about a conversation or brings it back up trying to explain an opinion or an offense or a wrong doing. But that's not what i see. </div>
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When you wrong someone, hurt them, ignore an olive branch.....Well, it burns my hide is what it does.</div>
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This world is full of meanies. Big ol selfish, "my life is way too busy for you" meanies. And i never want to be one of them.. I may be mean. But i won't break something and just walk away.....that, i can promise you!</div>
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And i was thinking about this today as i drove away from my wonderful friend, and i was<i> thankful.</i> So thankful for all the good that God<i> has </i>placed in my life.</div>
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My kids may not have aunts and uncles that dote on them, they may have never received love from Jeromy's family, we may miss out of things, or have people who are particularly "irregular" in our life. But none of that outweighs the greatness that we<i> do</i> have. I may have friends that always leave me perplexed, or confused, or angry. I may second guess myself about 99% of the day with about 99% of the people i know. </div>
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But then God just reminds me of all the good that<i> He</i> has given me. The people like my cousin who always is encouraging me with her kind words after reading a blog, my aunt who "likes" my stuff to show me she cares, or her daughter, who always reminds me when coffee is on sale at Caribou, or my amazing girls, from this state and Arizona, whom I can have the quickest and longest and most confusing and funny conversation with via Facebook and it fills my heart with joy because i know and they know that there is <i>nothing</i> that we could do to break our friendship. Its people like my other friend who can get together at the <i>drop of a hat</i> and just seeing her can turn my day around, lickety split. Its having <i>my</i> Mother. She's just so much better than your moms. (Lol, see how i slipped that one in?) Its a surprisingly meaningful message from an old friend that encouraged me and filled my heart. Its a feeling that is so deep in my soul and it makes up who i am. Those "good people" in my life.<i> My people. </i>The people, whom, long before it was cool---i would melt for.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Today, i am so grateful for the gift of<i> encouragement. Laughter. Smiles. Conversation. Opinions. Truth. </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>My friends.</i> I'm <i>so</i> grateful for my friends........</div>
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..................................</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
......and television......I'm just really grateful for television too............. :)</div>
<div>
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Today, call your friend and laugh. It just makes life <i>BETTER!!!</i></div>
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Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-20880017323680964652014-02-27T13:47:00.002-08:002014-02-27T15:28:12.564-08:00Oh no you didn't.I could have predicted the outcome of my day just by the way i felt when i woke up.<br />
<br />
There was no reason to feel it, but i woke up feeling cranky. Not like, crabby mad, but like there was something bugging me but i couldn't quite put my finger on it.<br />
<br />
So, as I looked out my window, at the beautiful sun--shining in--i began to pray. For my kids, for our days, for this unusually odd feeling i was feeling.<br />
<br />
I got he kids up and packed them all a special and healthy lunch. I was feeling productive. I had my makeup on, girls out the door, clothes together and gear ready to transfer to the car for my highly anticipated day with a friend.<br />
<br />
I literally looked at the clock at about ten to 9 and consciously made myself wait to leave to bring Junior to preschool until 9 o'clock, exactly. Didn't want to be too early. But perfectly on time.<br />
<br />
Nine o'clock came and i packed my gear, Junior begged to bring my Ipod, and i--well, i didn't agree--but he got it anyways. Nothing i could do--my hands were full.<br />
<br />
So into the warming van we went. <br />
<br />
And then i backed up.<br />
<br />
And about half way down my driveway, i seemed to slant towards a snowdrift that had formed, unintentionally.<br />
<br />
To which my van got hung up.<br />
<br />
So i did a little maneuvering to try and get it unhung up.<br />
<br />
To which i got more hungup.<br />
<br />
To which my blood pressure began to rise--slightly.<br />
<br />
I began to back up some more, in hopes to get out of this pickle.<br />
<br />
<i>I WAS IN MY DRIVEWAY FOR PETES SAKE!!!!</i><br />
<br />
I was<i> not </i>getting stuck.<br />
<br />
<i>Not today.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Not in my driveway--no less.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Turns out, i didn't make the rules.<br />
<br />
As i gently shifted from reverse to drive and back i found that i would get a bit unstuck, only to get re-stuck.<br />
<br />
So then i opened the door and pushed my foot on the ground--as if--to help myself get unstuck.<br />
<br />
I was feeling frustrated at this point.<br />
<br />
I watched the minutes tick away as i mildly went from drive to reverse, drive to reverse, drives to reverse....<br />
<br />
Soon the shift became aggressive.<br />
<br />
Like i slammed that sucker into drive and then rocked it into reverse.<br />
<br />
As if to punish my van for betraying me.<br />
<br />
Almost instantly my frustration turned to total and complete rage.<br />
<br />
I may have passed out--i can't remember.<br />
<br />
I only remember letting out loud, guttural, screams as i kicked my van and screamed "<i>oh, no you won't!'</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Whyyyyyyy! Come ON!! Not today...."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I looked around at the empty neighborhood through my blurred vision and spotted a neighbors husbands truck in the driveway.<br />
<br />
As i got out my phone to text her, it was then, that i realized my fingers were possibly dead--as i had no gloves on and had been out in the -41 wind chill kicking my van and willing it to move for the past 20 minutes.<br />
<br />
So instead, i called her.<br />
<br />
And left a message.<br />
<br />
In which i am pretty sure my opening line for her was a yell.<br />
<br />
Like, "I'm stuck in my stupid driveway, in my stupid van, in the stupid cold, because we live in a stupid state...."<br />
<br />
It wasn't until i hung up after asking if her hubby was home to help me--that i realized i possibly assaulted her via telephone message. Unintentionally.<br />
<br />
(Sorry, Jen-clearly the problem is me!)<br />
<br />
I got back into my van--where my son was happily playing that darn ipod and i screamed and cursed the day--to which he never even looked up.<br />
<br />
I hit the gas a few more times--<i>hard </i>--you know--just to ensure i was really stuck. Like, permanently.<br />
<br />
And then i just stood out in the snow......and yelled.<br />
<br />
Like, from the depths of my soul--yelled.<br />
<br />
Finally i decided that i was going to get Jeromy's truck out of the garage and just blow by this stinkin van, get Junior to school and likely <i>never return</i>. Ever again.<br />
<br />
As i maneuvered the truck--in a very Austin Powers like way-- out of the garage and from rear facing to front, i drove about a foot from the vans bumper and got out.<br />
<br />
I surveyed the situation.<br />
<br />
I envisioned the sheer pleasure it would bring me to just blow <i>through</i> the van--with the truck. The satisfaction it would bring me at this point is unmeasurable.<br />
<br />
I grabbed Junior and transferred all my crap from the van to the truck. And then I sat there.<br />
<br />
Pondering this dumb idea.<br />
<br />
I stared at the van and it stared back at me.<br />
<br />
I had hoped to just squeeze by it but when it all come together there was NO way i could get through with out sideswiping them both and likely getting stuck<i> again.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Can you imagine? I would have literally thrown myself off the roof at that point.</i><br />
<br />
I stood out in the arctic weather and yelled.<br />
<br />
Like fighting for my life--yell.<br />
<br />
Like (fist to sky) "Whhyyyyyyy meeeeeee? Pleeeeeeease, help me, soooomeone!!""<br />
<br />
So which only the wind answered back.<br />
<br />
In a snide whisper.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Nevvverrrrrrrr"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I swear i heard that.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
At this point i honestly didn't know if i was gong to cry, scream, or have a heart attack.<br />
<br />
The pain in my hands was so intense that i couldn't even think.<br />
<br />
So finally i decided to grab a shovel and try to shovel my way out.<br />
<br />
The words and thoughts that went through my head as i dug ...and dug... and dug.... my van out of the snowdrift-<i>-in my driveway--</i>could make a sailor blush.<br />
<br />
But i only <i>thought</i> em.<br />
<br />
Sooooo, settle down already.<br />
<br />
I let out a few more desperate cries as i finally cleared the snow and got back into the van to start it back up and do this dog and pony show, once again.<br />
<br />
I looked forward at Junior, happily playing games on the ipod in the truck.<br />
<br />
And then, I slammed the pedal to the floor--unable to hide my rage at the situation--and as my wheels smoked and spun..... the van sat <i>still.</i><br />
<br />
My blood boiled as i cranked that baby into reverse and did about 100mph as i watched the smoke bellow from my wheels.<br />
<br />
i'm not proud here.<br />
<br />
Its like i could actually hear Jeromy say slowly, "just give it a<i> little</i> gas."<br />
<br />
But no way. Not today--if i was going down--i was going to go down in flames<i>.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
If i was seriously going to get stuck-<i>-in my driveway</i>--i was going to bury these stinkin' tires to China.<br />
<br />
Ya feel me.<br />
<br />
At the last moment, i turned my wheel the opposite way--one last time--and i yelled out "Please, just <i>help </i>me!!"<br />
<br />
And suddenly the van grabbed hold of the snow and i backed out of the driveway-- like a bat outta hell.<br />
<br />
Seriously.<br />
<br />
It happened.<br />
<br />
And i just threw the van into park in the middle of the road--daring anyone to see it.<br />
<br />
I got out of the van, went to the truck, told Junior to "get out, lets go" and made my way back to the van--arms full of stuff, fingers broken, thighs freezing and pits sweating.<br />
<br />
Junior buckled in, i left that truck right in the middle of the driveway and pulled away.<br />
<br />
Trying desperately to calm my heart rate.<br />
<br />
I called Jeromy--hoping he would answer so i could scream at him for nothing and blame him for everything that he had nothing to do with.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"why didn't you put up a snowfence in November!!! Do you love no one!?......Waaaaa, crab, sigh, moan, wail....."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>He just laughed.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I threw in some choice words to make my point and then ended with "I'm sorry. I know its not your fault, <i>and</i> i may have left a borderline threatening message on our neighbors answering machine, soooooo...."<br />
<br />
As least i was out.<br />
<br />
We got to Juniors school--45 minutes late.<br />
<br />
And then he went to get out and i noticed his school bag, and lunch, <i>weren't in the van</i>.<br />
<br />
We must have transferred them to the truck--in my fit of rage--and then i forgot as i drove away.....<br />
<br />
.....in a fit of rage.<br />
<br />
"<i>oh, come on!</i>!" I said to my poor baby, who already felt bad, as i continued to remind him about the importance of being responsible.<br />
<br />
We walked into school, and i laid it all out to the teacher helper, who only responded with silence....<br />
<br />
To which my blood pressure began to increase.<br />
<br />
I jus<i>t wanted</i> to get to my friends. I just<i> wanted </i>to get us a coffee and visit.<br />
<br />
I had been looking forward to this for a week.<br />
<br />
And now i had to figure out how to get Junior lunch.<br />
<br />
My mom suggested SA so i ran there, grabbed him a gross ham sandwich, chips and a cheese stick.<br />
<br />
And i flew back to school. Tried to over explain the lunch situation to the teacher helper---who only responded in silence--and then off i was.<br />
<br />
To get a coffee.<br />
<br />
At least i had this free drink on my rewards card.<br />
<br />
After i ordered. I got stuck in the drive thru. Thanks to the 76 inches of ice.<br />
<br />
But thankfully the huge, overconfident, truck behind me didn't seem one bit concerned as he sat on my tail and watched as i spun--uncontrollably--in place.<br />
<br />
When i finally made it to the window. i was angry. I wanted to slap the man when the window opened. Just because "<i>Can anyone put flipping sand down--ANYWHERE</i>?!<i>?Its not like we live in California. Do your JOB!!" </i><br />
<br />
Truly, i wanted to beat him to the very grips of life. It brought me relief.<br />
<br />
Again--i think the problem is my own.<br />
<br />
I gave him my card and he informed me that my reward "wasn't for a drink, but for an added "flavor shot"<i> in </i>a drink."<br />
<br />
(blink.......blink.....)<br />
<br />
*Insert Kill Bill music here*<br />
<br />
<i>"Ahh, i see. Great. Thank you--LIKE WHO THE HECK WOULD ASK FOR A DISGUSTING *EXTRA* SHOT OF RASPBERRY? COME ON-- YOU GUYS ARE THE W-O-R-S-T!!! GUH--ROSS!!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I said--as he pretended not to hear me at all.<br />
<br />
I got the drinks anyways--obviously.<br />
<br />
And as i drove away, i noticed they didn't even give me the <i>BEAN</i> on my mocha's!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
It may have been my breaking point, i don't know. I only remember seeing red--my head <i>literally</i> opened up and fire came out of my skull!<br />
<br />
Fast forward to Kwik trip--where i stopped to get donuts for my friend.<br />
<br />
I basically got into a fist fight with the poor lady about the freshness of the donuts--gave her the finger--and left.<br />
<br />
Okay, i didn't give her the finger--but that thought had crossed my mind about a trillion times in the last hour.<br />
<br />
I arrived at my beautiful friends house, coffee in hand. I looked at the clock, only to realized that it was <i>only </i>10:19 am.<br />
<br />
What a morning.<br />
<br />
I apologized about the bean sitch--told her my long, sad and drawn out story--and went back to the car for the donuts.<br />
<br />
As i grabbed the donuts and my other stuff i went back in. Got to the table. And saw that she had placed<i> two chocolate covered expresso beans--of her own--onto the lid of my coffee. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>(blink......blink.....)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<br />
And it melted my frozen little heart, people.<br />
<br />
My vision slowly returned.<br />
<br />
My pulse began to slow.<br />
<br />
And love--once again--began to fill my heart.<br />
<br />
She's the BEST.<br />
<br />
And winter is the WORST.<br />
<br />
How was your morning?<br />
<br />
Ya know what? Forget it--i don't even wanna <i>know.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-49667448283485438952014-02-22T07:23:00.002-08:002014-02-22T08:02:04.259-08:00a mothers weakness<br />
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<br />
When i became a mother, i became weak.<br />
<br />
I think back to my days before i was a Mom and i can hardly remember them. They hardly made much of an impact. The days when i was a grown up, but not a mother.<br />
<br />
<i>What did i even do</i>?<br />
<br />
I suppose i actually slept through the night. I bet i could go see movies whenever i wanted. I could go out late and sleep in. Although i never was one for sleeping in.<br />
<br />
But until i became a mother--none of that really mattered.<br />
<br />
Sure it was life, and i lived it. Not even that fully. But i lived.<br />
<br />
And now as i look back i can remember that day, that moment, as if it were yesterday.<br />
<br />
This intense love that you can't put into words. A new found fear of any harm coming to this little human. A huge responsibility to be in charge of someones future--their well being. Truly living with your heart outside your body.<br />
<br />
It changed me.<br />
<br />
In ways i never could have imagined.<br />
<br />
Suddenly i thought of my step children. Who were 7 and i panicked at the thought of them eating carrots. I clearly remember that thought going through my mind. Like <i>HOW</i> does a 7 year old eat a carrot and not choke?!? What if they <i>choked</i>? <br />
<br />
And i remember watching my cousin hold my new born 5 pound 10 ounce baby girl--in her high heels--and fearing (borderline panicking) that her shoes may break and she would drop my child!! <br />
<br />
I remember being in awe of God and amazed that he made our arms<i> just</i> for holding a child. <br />
<br />
Those were just my thought that first day in the hospital.<br />
<br />
Life was forever changed.<br />
<br />
I was a Mom.<br />
<br />
And now today, thought the fears have evolved -from fearing someone might choke on a bitter biscuit, to bumping their head on the coffee table when learning to crawl, from falling off a couch, to crashing on their bike--they are always with me.<br />
<br />
A fear.<br />
<br />
A protectiveness.<br />
<br />
I'm not the mother to just let my child learn her own lessons. I don't just cling to the assumption that kids are resilient.<br />
<br />
I worry. I pray. I worry more. And then I pray even harder.<br />
<br />
My 8 year old decided to go to a little church "lock in" if you will, last night.<br />
<br />
From 7 pm to 7 am. She was going to be away from me.<br />
<br />
And i kind of panicked about it. I anticipated it. I tried to smile. I encouraged.<br />
<br />
But in reality i just wanted her to be home with me and never leave.<br />
<br />
But i decided i needed to let her "grow up" to experience these things. After all, i do overprotect.<br />
<br />
So last night as i drove through the slippery roads to church, with my living and breathing <i>HEART</i> in the back seat, i felt scared.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
As i walked into church and looked around at the other rambunctious kids running around with their friends, i held my breath.<br />
<br />
We checked in and Ruby looked around for a friend. To which she found none. So we sat on the bench and waited.<br />
<br />
Finally her little friend came in and we tried to cling to them. They weren't as worried as we were--obviously.<br />
<br />
So as her friend ran off to play with someone else, Ruby quietly turned her face into my body and hid her tears as she whispered "I was afraid this was going to happen..."<br />
<br />
I knew what she meant, but didn't know what to do. We can't make people understand our fear. We can't expect them to know we just need someones hand. An offer to come join the fun.<br />
<br />
So we sat on the bench.<br />
<br />
I had my arm around her, as if to warn the other kids--<i>you mess with her, you mess with me.</i><br />
<br />
So there we sat. Both silently fearing different things.<br />
<br />
But smiling at each other--in hopes of protecting them<br />
<br />
I tired to joke with her, "<i>Come on--this is lame, lets go home and snuggle forever!"</i> But she only responded with a smile "<i>Moooom, don't say that</i>."<br />
<br />
I had a lump in my throat. It snuck up on me---but it was there.<br />
<br />
<i>How do people leave their kids. Why is everyone smiling. How do these kids even know each other so well.?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Finally another of Rubys (2 friends) came. And Ruby smiled and they stood together. I took a picture.<br />
<br />
And watched as Ruby tried to keep up with her.<br />
<br />
Hurting the whole time, i grabbed her and prayed one last time as i wrapped my arms around her.<br />
<br />
And then i left.<br />
<br />
And i can not confirm or deny if there was weeping and gnashing of teeth in my van as i drove away.<br />
<br />
But i can say, it was unexpected.<br />
<br />
So off i drove, contemplating life.<br />
<br />
Who we are?<br />
<br />
Why did i agreed to this?<br />
<br />
I evaluated the different types of parents in the world and thought of the differences in their choices.<br />
<br />
I know people who leave their kids for weeks at a time and don't bat an eye and then i have friends who can't even let their kids go to a birthday party at an Apple Orchard with out sending her Mom along--for protection.<br />
<br />
And you know what? Why<i> wouldn't</i> we want to protect them.?<br />
<br />
What some see as neurotic, i see as loving.<br />
<br />
I didn't have a kid to just let her learn leassons on her own. Just because she can do something, doesn't mean that she should.<br />
<br />
Just because its the "norm" in society doesn't mean its the "norm" for our family.<br />
<br />
You can call it a helicopter parent.<br />
<br />
I just call it a <i>parent.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I carried those babies in my<i> body</i>--and i will NOT pretend that their pain doesn't hurt me ten times full.<br />
<br />
I drove away from the church and called Jeromy and immediately told him that "This is a bad idea. We aren't "those" people. We don't find our identity in being overly involved in things. We don't need to be so involved in the church to profess we love Jesus!!! We can love Jesus while sitting in a heap-together- on the couch...like a little family of raccoons."<br />
<br />
Jeromy just quietly agreed, thought i think he was just watching TV as i had a nervous break down.<br />
<br />
All i wanted to do was go to bed so i could get back up and see my girl.<br />
<br />
Being a mother at home <i>without</i> her child is like being a ship--with out a sea, a bird--without wings, A mother--without her <i>heart.</i><br />
<br />
And i hated it.<br />
<br />
So last night, as i woke up every hour on the hour and checked my watch, i anticipated picking her up. I was excited to get her back in my car.<br />
<br />
Though i did dream about the Russians again, and it was not a good dream, but in the end i ended up in a foxhole and shot the bad guy. SOooo.....that made for a peaceful night on top of the waking up every hour.<br />
<br />
Yeesh.<br />
<br />
Finally 6:15 came and i got up and headed to the car.<br />
<br />
Anxious.<br />
<br />
As i drove out of the neighborhood it was so beautiful. So silent. It like i was a part of a secret. And i loved it.<br />
<br />
I think i'll do that more often.<br />
<br />
I drove on the slippery road and couldn't get to church <i>fast enough</i>.<br />
<br />
Finally i arrived, makeup free and in a hat--which tells you how bad i wanted to get there. I feel like if there is anything, there's <i>always</i> time for a little mascara. Amiright.<br />
<br />
Anywho.<br />
<br />
I got into the church and <i>heard</i> Ruby had fun. But couldn't find Ruby.<br />
<br />
And only with in a moment was i able to go into complete internal panic as i looked for her.<br />
<br />
Finally someone spotted her --in a heap--in the middle of the floor, covered in her coat, on top of her pillow.<br />
I laughed as i saw her and walked her way.<br />
<br />
I talked to her and visited until i realized that she wasn't even talking back so i peaked under her hood only to see tears falling down her little cheeks.<br />
<br />
I quickly knelt next to her and whispered "<i>Are you crying cause you are tired or did something happen</i>?"<br />
<br />
She managed to whimper that she had a stomach ache so i scooped her up and said <i>"lets get outta here</i>."<br />
<br />
In the car ride home. I was silent. Thought i wanted to talk, i knew she wanted the quiet. <br />
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I looked back in the rearview mirror to smile at her once in a while.<br />
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The ride seemed to take hours.<br />
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As we were closer to home, i asked her if she was feeling better now that she was with Mom? And she nodded.<br />
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Then i said, <i>"You just need to get home, honey. Everything will be better at home."</i><br />
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<i>And that's when it hit me. That is my montra in life.</i><br />
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We were at Jellystone as a family and all i longed for was home. I was at camp as a kid, and all i longed for was home. I went to college, and all i longed for was home. I went scrappbooking a few weeks ago, and i left after a day, cause<i> "i just wanna get home."</i><br />
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<i>Home truly IS where the heart is. And as long as ours is beating and the kids are happy--that's where we're gonna stay!</i><br />
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Five minutes after walking in the door, my girl was passed out on the couch--and all was right in the world again!! :)<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-21432012263666786732014-02-20T11:30:00.001-08:002014-02-20T11:54:55.854-08:00Who's car are we gonna take.As you may have guessed, i jus got off the tradmill--plus, my coffee is starting to k-k-k-kick in, sooooo hold onta your butts!!!<br />
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Today i was listening to my new favorite song, which got me thinking about what i liked about it (which is obvious) which got me thinking about movies, which got me thinking about people, which got me thinking about what I liked in people--and this is what i have concluded.<br />
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As i look at the movies i like, and i try to link them--whether they are dramas, comedies, action filled, or even cartoons.<br />
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The main theme that i cling to in moves is the same concept that i cling to--or admire-in real life.<br />
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It usually boils down to one thing. <br />
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<i>Loyalty.</i><br />
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I think about Lone Survivor and the unity that "brothers" who are in the services--especially the trenches of war--face and what binds them stronger than others. One time i asked Jeromy if we--as a married couple-- were as strong as the bond of soldiers.....i don't think he responded now that i think about it?<br />
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And if not, then why?<br />
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I think about our families--both his and mine--and i actually see a lack of loyalty. There is loyalty for "their own" but not for all. And i guess to each their own.<br />
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But i am of the opinion that if you were to say "Hey, you KNOW i'd be there if you needed me. Or if it was a life and death situation". My response would have to be this, "Then don't bother."<br />
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Honestly, cause if you are of the opinion that you, "would be there if someone needed you" but you aren't there on a daily basis, or aren't "in the trenches", then to me--you just plain <i>aren't</i> there.<br />
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If i have to beg to love you and ask to be involved and to love you and yours....<br />
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Well, it just gets old, i guess. Not that it means we should stop--its just gets frustrating.<br />
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Families, friends, we should stick together, shouldn't we???<br />
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I think of a conversation I had with my brother when talking about Lone Survivor as we tried to dissect the movie and the characters and as i--like always--try to link them to real life people that i know.<br />
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We brought our points to the table and talked and questioned, and dissected. And it was so great.<br />
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I love conversations like that.<br />
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So much depth, so many layers, so many unknowns...<br />
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After i proclaimed that Jeromy was a "task oriented" person, that word has stuck in my head. <br />
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If anyone has seen the movie, 'The Town' then you would understand what i am about to talk about.<br />
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In that movie there is a character--a little shady --but loyal to his "family". The friends he grew up with, who he would literally put his life on the line for. Jeremy Renner is that character and there is one scene where Ben Afflecks character walks into his apartment, (clearly upset) and say (in his Boston accent) " <i>I need your help. I can't tell you what it is. You can never ask me about it after. And we're going to hurt some people</i>." To which Renner responds, after a moments pause, " <i>Who's car are we gonna take</i>?"<br />
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That might not quite have the same effect on paper as it does in the movie--or heck--in my mind. But it says something about that guy. No matter what he's done in life. If his friend asks him, he's in.<br />
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And that jumps out at me. And my brother and i agree--that is Jeromy. In real life. I wouldn't say he is the loyalest of people, he tends to think i can fend for myself--which i usually can. But just say jump--and like a bulldog off his chain--stuffs gonna happen.<br />
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We've had this conversation and he has named names of the people--all in my family--that he would just get up and help. And then he said a few other names--of people still in my family--that he would first ask, " i<i>s it legal"?</i>" Before he jumped up--but regardless, he'd probably go.;)<br />
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Now that's not to say he is a criminal. Its to say he is task oriented and gets jobs done. And there are people in his life--that he would do anything for. And i love that. Now, if "we" are fixing the furnace together and i am sitting behind him and literally asking 27 questions about what hes doing--like a toddler--and he only hesitates for a second, just to turn around and look at me--with annoyance--to say "Seriously?!?!" well, thats a different story! :)--That's when his "task oriented self" makes me loco.<br />
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But that's to say that there are so many different qualities in a person and you see specific ones come out in times of need. I've seen friends stand up for me, when it really had no effect on them--but they were loyal and they saw someone being "attacked" and they stepped in. It has literally blown me away. You know who you are. To those people, i am indebted. Like, I'm saying, "who's car are we gonnna take?" (with my Boston accent) Ya feel me?<br />
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And you know what else, i've seen people throw me under the bus. Or stay silent when i needed them. And that is equally as shocking. But i'm not focusing on that--i'm just movin' on.<br />
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I got a bit off track on the movie stuff, but its to show the beauty in a person. Don't ya think?<br />
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What<i> are </i>the traits that you admire in life? Do you even know? Have you thought about it? What do you want to be to others? Do you even know?<br />
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Cause you should. Its interesting.<br />
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I suppose, when you don't have something, you long for it more. But it does make you stronger, and sometimes spurs you on to build that--whether in life, in friendships, in relationships. <br />
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The buggars of life can break us--<i>or they can strengthen us.</i><br />
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Yes, we've all come from somewhere and we all have a past and there something to that--but its not <i>all </i>that we are. I don't like to see people with "<i>poor me</i>" histories act like they are broken. I like to see someone who is literally broken but still stands. Still fights. And doesn't lament about his woes. <br />
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Right?<br />
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I love to see people cry about being spanked as a kid, or about being left out, or not being accepted--and then i love to think of my husband. Who was basically broken as a child--and yet he stands. Silently. Strong. Faithfully. Hes not jaded because of it--he's<i> better.</i> Because he<i> choose to be</i>.<br />
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Its <i>part</i> of who he is. But it doesn't <i>define</i> him. Ya know?<br />
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It just goes to show that we <i>can be more</i>--but sometimes we <i>choose </i>not to.<br />
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You know what other movie i love??? Ice Age.<br />
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Yea, i know. Weird angle. I choose it on purpose to point out the extreme shifts and forms "loyalty" can take, but in the end--whether cartoon or true story--it all boils down to the same thing. I realized in that show that they were a herd, no matter if it was a mammoth, a saber tooth and a sloth. I may not have made sense to others, but they didn't go unless they were <i>all </i>together. Because "A herd stick together". No matter the problem. And no matter the faults.<br />
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I can think of a handful of my people who would jump if i asked. And you know what? The names would surprise you. They surprise me. They're people that don't have to.<i> But do.</i><br />
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I guess i don't really have a point to this other than to talk.<br />
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I love to talk. To categorize, to put thoughts into words. And to acknowledge some foundational things in me--that i might have overlooked if i didn't spend time thinking about it. Asking the questions.<br />
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What is your "one thing" your foundation that you want in a person. What you love. What you do. Who you stand for. <i>If </i>you stand for it. Do you? Would you? Are you? Why?<br />
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Come on, don't be silent. Stand for something. <i>Anything.</i> Don't just live quietly and for nothing. Put your stake in the ground and<i> live.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>This is the new song that my brother played for me and its changing my world......i love it. The words are quite possibly the most phenomenal lines i've ever heard.</i><br />
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Have a beautiful day, my friends!<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100942137993920352.post-19395071450085453682014-01-29T12:08:00.000-08:002014-01-29T12:38:01.280-08:00Momma knows bestSince my brain is running on all cylinders for the moment, i better get this out.<br />
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Lately i have been called out (by my <i>MOTHER</i>, no less) about my acts on facebook..<br />
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Total bummer.<br />
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And though i defend them and throw in a few "Chillax, Mom's" into our disagreements, now i just feel kinda bad.<br />
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Okay, i said "i hate Beyonce and Jay-Z" and as my Mom pointed out that when we say hate, it mean we wish they were dead. And i<i> know </i>this. i do. I don't let my kids say hate. (to which my mom pointed out "then why do i say it?!" Ugh,. can't win!!) <br />
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"You can't say hate in one sentence and then quote a verse from the bible in another, Chrisssssstina." ( i may have added the "ssssss" for effect, she didn't really say it like <i>that</i>)<br />
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And maybe she scolded me when i said something about my friends husbands underwear ("but Angie <i>LIKED</i> it, Mom, she did--she thought it was funny <i>too</i>!!!!")<br />
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And she might have read about 400 posts that i wrote between my two favorite girls via long distance slap-happy-super-quick-messaging. But that wasn't intended for her eyes, <i>okay</i>? Yes, i put it on facebook for the whole world to see, but come ON?!?! Dontcha know me, Mom?!? (i'm the one you tell to "settle down" just about every time you see me) ;)<br />
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Well, wouldn't ya know.....all that scolding has made me feel bad and made me feel the need to apologize. Cause it might--<i>MIGHT-</i>-have been inappropriate and may be hurting the cause of Christ. When i speak about the deep love and reliance that i have in Him in one breath---and then say i hate Beyonce in the other.<br />
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<i>OKAY, I GET IT!!</i><br />
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<i>And i am sorry if any of my words have lead anyone astray or may have confused anyone of where I stand and who my heart belongs to. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>'Cause its Jesus.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I now officially just "don't love Beyonce". But i wish her well. And as far as Adams underwear goes.....well. that not my business, <i>I GUESS!</i>!! ;)<br />
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Its fun to be fun. I am being 99% humorous in every part of my day!<br />
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So, with that.....please don't be offended by me and i will<i> try </i>not to let my "social highs" get the best of me or allow me to make poor choices. (<b><i>Psalms 19:14 "Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be perfect and pleasing to you.</i></b>")<br />
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Buts its going to be <i>reaaaaal </i>hard.....<br />
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Mom is right. Like <i>always</i>--and that's what i love about her--and the freakishly high standard that she sets for me!!<br />
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<i><b>James 4:17 " So whoever knows the right thing to do and then fails to do it, for him it is sin."</b></i><br />
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....unless they're just joking???<br />
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Nope.<br />
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<br />Christina Boonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03147440768106902626noreply@blogger.com0