Peek-A-Boo

Linking up to I Heart Faces Photo Challenge.

Andrea

It's Been A Long While...

But having a little one in preschool is TOUGH!!!! That, and I will be honest with you. I got a little blogged out for awhile. So I took a sabbatical and now...I'm BACK!!! Is there anyone still out there??? Well, to sum up what we have been up to lately, it can be said in one picture.

It appears as though Rob and I have a couple of fish on our hands, although Emma claims that she isn't a fish, but a mermaid. She is now able to swim without a lifejacket, but we still make her wear it out in the deep water, of course. We went to our local pool the other day and she LOVED the slides. It's in 11 feet of water and I was a nervous wreck. But she popped herself up just fine!
Entered into this week's photo challenge at I Heart Faces

Away in a Manger

So, while listening to Glenn Beck this morning on my way to pick up Emma, I got to thinking. I don't care if you love him or hate him, he makes you think. For everyone who thinks he is all political, that is just a piece of Glenn Beck. But this particular morning, I listened to a version of the Christmas story. A version that made you look at it in a completely different way. In a PERSONAL way. One that made you put yourself in that stable many years ago.

I can't really put this into an actual paragraph format. It is more like a bunch of random musings that are running through my head.

Can you imagine yourself as Mary? Can you imagine having to tell your parents, friends, and husband to be that you were pregnant? And pregnant with the son of God, nonetheless. I do understand the fear of having to tell your family and friends that you are pregnant (and somewhat "unmarried" in their way of thinking). Been there. Done that. Imagine the fear of telling them that you are pregnant, yet still a virgin. Would they believe you? How would your husband to be react? Would he believe you? Would he think that you had strayed from him? Would he still want you to be his wife?

Imagine Joseph's fear, after dreaming, that he was to be the father of Jesus. Would he be able to raise a son to God's standards? Would he love him as his own even?

Imagine the trip to Bethlehem. Can you imagine being full with child on a donkey (assuming a donkey was used)?I know how uncomfortable I was those last couple of months. Add a good long donkey ride to that discomfort.

Imagine knocking on the doors of the inns, only to be turned away. Imagine Mary's fear after learning that she was to give birth to the son of God on the dirty floor of a stable, with only Joseph and the animals to exalt the King? Imagine being a young woman giving birth for the first time. If you are a mother, do you remember your first child??? How scared were you, not knowing what labor was like? Mary, I am sure, had seen labor before, yet was still afraid, I am sure. Imagine Joseph learning of Herod's plans to kill his son. How would he protect Mary and the baby from Herod?

Do you remember looking into your babies' eyes and wondering what the future held for them? What would they look like? What would they be when they grew up? Would they follow in your footsteps? How are you going to raise this little being into someone who loved God as much as you do? How would you teach them what they needed to know to be a good person, to be compassionate to others?

Mr. Beck reminded me this morning, "They were just people." Just like you and I. Normal, everyday, people.

Can you IMAGINE?


Amy Grant's "Breath of Heaven"
video by Tony Cortes
Both very talented and using His talents to praise Him.

"...but I offer all I am

for the mercy of your plan...

help me be strong..

help me be...

help me..."

The prayer of a mother...


Also, please pray for a fellow mother, Dana (a friend of Renae Deckard, a blog friend) at Roscommon Acres who lost her precious baby boy this week. She is surrounded by God, family, and friends, but another prayer could never hurt. I have been crying with her here in Indiana. Heaven is blessed to have Mattias, and Mattias is blessed with heaven.

Blessed Christmas to you all!

God Bless You!

Well, I received my first Booksneeze product to review! I watched "The Way Home" today while the girls were napping. It was an okay movie with a great message. This movie is a great reminder of what is important in your life. Dean Cain plays a father whose work is priority one. His life is shaken when his two year old son goes missing under his supervision. Okay acting, little plot, great message. I think that it would be okay for kids, but I would be worried about little ones, since there are scary parts when they talk about the possibility of not finding the boy in time. I enjoyed it nonetheless. The part about the movie that I liked the most was that it was based on actual events. Dean Cain does a good job of playing the distraught, guilt ridden father. Lori Beth Edgeman, not so believable as a mother whose son is missing.

School is Cool

I know it has been awhile, but we finally found a preschool for Emma Claire. I had found one that was local but, for some unknown reason, kept looking. I then found a different one (that is about 10 miles from home), but they only had openings in the afternoon. No big deal. I'll switch our schedule around. Problem number 2: Six boys and Emma Claire. No girl friends??!?!?! Oh no! Then I got to thinking, "Well, maybe in comparison to all of the rowdy boys in her class, Emma will be somewhat tame! This can be good. This WILL be good. We will make it work." The class wasn't full, so there was still room for a little girl to join Emma. Time for LOTS of prayer. I know, I know. I shouldn't bother the Big Guy for such trivial matters. And it wasn't really a prayer. Just everyday conversation.

A week passed and I was in "The Wal-Mart" (yes, that was me talking like the hubs) looking for non-marking soled shoes (and thinking to myself that I needed to call Emma's teacher and see just how serious they were about ONLY shoes that had laces) when Miss Jenni herself called. She said that there was an opening in the morning class! Yay! So, what is my point with all of this rambling? The point is that prayers work, even if it is the small stuff. So don't sweat it, just pray. :o)

Emma started back to school. She is with a few kids from her old preschool, and she LOVES that she knew someone going into it. It's a bonus that her close friend Mackenzie is with her too! She goes to school five days a week. I am glad that it is five days a week because I think that it will better prepare her for all day kindergarten next year.

Needless to say, we have just been getting back into the swing of things.

Her are some pictures that I took for her FIRST day of school and the beginning of FALL! Praise be for cooler days!

First day of school 09/07/2010


I surprised her one day by taking her to the state park after school. She then surprised me by cooperating with the Canon.











Andrea

My Name's "Whoa, Damnit!"

As I can recall only one thing sets 6th grade apart from the others in middle school.

Tommy.Jack.Savage.

Now, you may think to yourself, "Who in the world is Tommy Jack Savage?" You may recall, from my previous Piggy Tales posts, an old gray mare by the name of Frosty. Well, as I grew, so did my search for adventure. Frosty was NOT a challenge. I needed EXCITEMENT. I needed something FIESTY. I needed something DANGEROUS.

Enter Tommy Jack Savage into my life.



He was a three year old green gelding with TONS of spunk. I spent more time on MY backside than on his. Every chance he got, he bucked. He ran away with me. He was ill-tempered, ill-mannered, and spirited. We got along FAMOUSLY. I loved that big old leggy baby. He was MINE. ALL MINE.

I took him to the 4-H fair that year. In amongst all of the professionally trained horses, we stuck out like a sore hoof. Instead of calmly, smoothly loping around the arena, we RACED. We galloped wherever TJ damn well pleased around the perimeter of the ring, nearly causing the demise of one judge who looked like he was having ZERO fun. We may not have placed that year, but we were made for each other. I was never one of those kids whose parents did the work for them. For one thing, my parents wouldn't be caught DEAD on that big galoot. We did the work ourselves and we grew together.

**Nota Bene: TJ is still alive and well. He is now 18 and LOVES my girls. Check out this post for pictures of the infamous big guy himself.

On Becoming a Woman

Fifth grade. On the verge of being a teenager. No longer a child, in my mind. I know that it was a rough time for my parents. For me too, for that matter. I have always been a bit...outspoken. Never the type to bite my tongue. That caused a rift between my mom and I, which I regret to this day. Dad used to say that it was because we were so much alike. I look back and agree entirely. There were good times though too.

I started playing sports in fifth grade. Volleyball in the fall, basketball in the winter, then softball in the spring. I liked sports. Heck, I STILL like sports. I prefer to play a sport over a cardio workout any day.

I wasn't too great at any of them, but I LOVED softball. In volleyball and basketball, I always ran around crazy, never quite understanding completely. On the diamond though, that was a COMPLETELY different story. My place was behind the plate. There, I knew what EVERYONE was doing. For some unexplainable reason, I adored having a softball hurled at me and having a sweaty old man breathing down my backside. "STRRRIIIIIIKE!" was my favorite word. My mom played softball too, when she was younger. She was always the bad ass behind the plate too. :o) I was always proud that we shared that ONE thing.

I should probably add that my dad coached me. It was a bit of a love/hate thing. I loved that my dad was involved in my activities, but MAN! It was ROUGH!! Just sayin'. He coached me on our school basketball team. I was TERRIBLE, so it was okay that he made me ride the pine a lot. It was always said that I spent more time on the floor than on my feet. I guess that my nickname (Hubs calls me Gracie basically to mock my complete lack of finesse.) was in the cards even way back then.

All of this culminated to the 5th grade end of the softball season party. My mom and dad offered to host a swim party at our house. Keep in mind, our house was pretty much a kid's dream, complete with go-kart, horse, riding trails, swimming pool, and pond. It was going to be a great time. Lo and behold, the day of the party came and so did a visitor (the FIRST time this particular visitor graced me with her presence). Any woman reading this can pretty much guess which visitor I am referring to. Any eleven year old girl with a swim party's worst nightmare. So while my guests were due to arrive in a few hours, I was learning the ins and outs of womanhood. To this day, I VIVIDLY recall my dramatic younger self crying to my mother, "I don't WANT to be a girl! I want to be a boy!" As if my theatrics were going to make EVERYTHING go away instantly... Needless to say, the party guests arrived and I had ALMOST as much fun as if everything were "normal". Thank goodness all of the guests were girls as well.

So the end of the school year ended, and I was officially on the brink of womanhood.