The last few days have been cool and cloudy. The sun is setting earlier. Fall is on his way. I love fall. Actually, I think I love all the seasons once I am getting tired of the season we are in. Summer gets old after a while and I get tired of dripping sweat all the time. Plus, nothing ever sounds good to eat in the summer time. It is just too hot. Now, fall holds the promise of black bean soup, roast, corn flake chicken. All the things that in the summer it is just too hot to have the oven on for so long. It also means baking time. Cookies and breads. Using the oven in the fall and winter warms the house and you have the smell of yumminess in the house. Fall means I can get out my long pants and sweats again. No more worrying about shaving my legs everyday. No more worrying about having pale arms or legs. No more worrying that my arms look too fat in a tank top. Fall means having hot chocolate, hot tea, or some coffee in the evening to warm up. It means getting my blanket and snuggli

We had this big trunk in our living room. It was holding a bunch of toys (re: crap the kids did not want to put up and in a hurry we shoved in said trunk). It was one of those put together jobs from Target. It was wicker like and the bottom was fiber board. My kids beat the hell out of it. Davis liked to climb in it. The bottom was all busted out, the top was colored on and you CAN NOT get the coloring off of wicker, the sides were beat up. It was completely falling apart. True to my inner white trashiness (is that a word?) I had used duck tape all around the inside to try and reinforce the thing. Today was the day. The time had come. That trunk is now sitting outside on my curb. I had to clean it out first. Then I had to find a place for all the toys inside it that were actually salvageable. Which led me to having to clean out all the toy drawers in Emma's closet. She has five different ones, in three different size and colors. TWO BAGS of trash later, all is done. My living room

When Emmaline was born it was obvious who she looked like. It took me some time to be okay with that. I mean, I was the one who carried her and gave birth to her. It was like a slap in the face that she looked just like her dad. But as she got older it became more and more apparent that she looked like her dad. Had I not been the one pregnant with her, I would question whether or not she was even mine. Just in case you do not believe me, here is a picture of the girl with her Papi. (this picture is from Christmas 2005, it is hard to find pictures of Mark in general....) So, I gave up long ago realizing that Emmaline was just going to look a lot like her Papi. Now, she acted a lot like me. Her personality is a lot like mine. She is loud and she never shuts up. She does not stop ever and she is beyond sassy. A lot like her mama. However, her ability to memorize and learn comes also from her dad. This became even more apparent today during Day Two of school. We have a Bible course. It is

Today we began First Grade Homeschooling. Luckily we did not take too long as we do not do all subjects yet and of course as time passes each subject gets a little harder and more involved. Math, reading/phonics, and music/art will not be an issue. Learning to write in cursive (yes the program we have calls for cursive writing in first grade) will prove to be the most challenging. Emmaline has good print writing, though she always mixes upper and lower case when writing. Now she has to learn cursive in proper form. She seems to enjoy that part. But she does not appreciate my criticizing her writing. It was only the first day and I may have been a little hard. But penmanship was always easy for me and bad penmanship really bothers me. Hopefully she will listen and do a good job. So we have Day One down and completed. We do not start reading until next week, so this week we will be little shorter. I hope we have a good school year....and I do not lose my mind doing this again this year.

Besides the obvious reasons, boys and girls are just different. Today this was once again clear to me as my kids were playing. Emma asked if we could play and I said sure. The girl went for her ponies and the boy asked for the train. And the two of them played in the same room separately. Emma with her toys and Davis with his train. Now not even do they play with different toys but they play differently even with the same toys. Davis rams the trains down the track and laughs when they fall off the track and piles them up in a big traffic jam. Emma had her animals in a boat and was riding them around on the playmat carefully and talking to them. Here are the kids and thier different playing styles. So boys and girls are just different. The only thing that worries me is that I built the train and was ramming the trains down the track with Davis. Maybe my kids are just different and it has nothing to do with one being a girl and one being a boy. Or maybe I am the different one........

It was just a little over seven years ago that I found out I was pregnant with my girl. It took some time (seven months) to get pregnant. We had just moved into our house. We had not been here for more than a few days. I went ahead and bought the pregnancy test. My cycle was all crazy, never any sort of regularity to it. I had a feeling that it was possible that we had finally done it. I took the test and could not believe when two lines showed up. I made Mark look too. I then took I do not know how many more home pregnancy tests. Just to make sure. I even went to the doctor and made them do another one. Sure enough, pregnant. Nine months I carried her. We did not know what we were having. We put together a nursery. Bought all sorts of baby things. Picked out names. My stomach grew bigger and she started to move. It was the most amazing feeling. We saw the baby on the ultrasound. I started to bleed in about the seventh month. They figured it was just a hemorrhoid (sorry, I know it is g

I took this photo on the beach in Costa Rica. For some reason, I just love it. My men, walking hand in hand along the beach. And looking at it reminds me of the poem Footprints In The Sand. One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Scenes from his life flashed across the sky and he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one belonging to him and the other to the Lord. When the last scene of his life had flashed before him, he recalled that at the lowest and saddest times of his life there was only one set of footprints. Dismayed, he asked, "Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. I don't understand why, when I needed you most, you would leave me." The Lord replied, "My precious child. I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering when you saw only one set of footprints... That was when I carried you."

Oh, the interent is full of so much telling information. Where else could I take a quiz to find out what kind of coffee I am? I got the link from Alimum . And here is what kind of coffee I am. You are a Black Coffee At your best, you are: low maintenance, friendly, and adaptable At your worst, you are: cheap and angsty You drink coffee when: you can get your hands on it Your caffeine addiction level: high What Kind of Coffee Are You? And I have to agree.

Online tests are fun. A good waste of time. I took one today. I learned things I did not even know..... Here is my personlal DNA map. I am quite colorful. My Personal Dna Report It is a long test, but if you want to try it, go ahead !

Daivs has been left-handed, well since, he started using his hands. I thought maybe he would out grow it. In the beginning he would use his right hand sometimes. He would try but it was a struggle for him. Over time, he became almost exclusively left handed. No one else in our house is left handed. But his Papa is (my father). Davis colors left handed. Davis eats left handed. Wondering why my son is left handed, I went searching for info. According to Wikipedia, Davis is left handed because prenatal testosterone contributes to brain organization. One theory is that high levels of prenatal testosterone results in a higher incidence of left-handedness. This could be why there are more left-handed males than females. They also say he could be brain damaged . Which I do not believe. He may be weird, but damaged? Not yet anyway. He is only two. How much damage could I have done already? However, it is true. My son will be more creative and smarter since he uses his left hand. "A common

This week I have been at my sister's house staying with her kids while her and her husband take one last summer getaway. Last night my niece went to lay Davis down in his travel crib. It was late and he was tired. She turned on the radio too because it was storming. Lightning, thunder, hard rain, the works. I went up to check on him after about twenty minutes or so. I walked in and he looked up. I walked over to him and he looked and me and said, "Good morning." I laid him back down and walked out of the room. I went back up a few minutes later and he saw me, not yet asleep. "Good morning." This time I let him come back downstairs with me and hang out for a while. This morning he woke up. The crib is right by the bed in my sister's room where I have been sleeping. I pick him up and bring him to snuggle in bed with me for a bit. He puts his little hands on my face. Looks at me and says, "Good morning." Maybe my boy is trying to tell me something. Ev

There are many times in life that I have wondered why. Or not understood something. Or something has not seemed right or fair. I am certain most of us have felt that way. I am a firm believer in God. I know that He has a greater plan than I can imagine. When I have times like the one in my previous post I am reminded of the Book of Ecclesiastes. Specifically Chapter 3 . To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. I then think of the song by The Byrds. Turn, Turn, Turn . It never really occurred to me that this song is the exact same as Ecclesiastes 3. Why I never made the connection I do not know. But for some reason today it all came into my mind. And here I am. Now may be a time to weep, a time to break down, a time to mourn, a time to lose. But one day, in a new and different season, it will once again be a time to laugh, a time to build up, a time to dance, and a time to get. I look forward to that time. I thank God for that time. And I also than

Sometimes in life you are faced with a life changing occurrence. Sometimes you realize that as a result of this one thing, you will never be the same again. That the safe, comfortable feeling you had, is something that is lost and you will have to work so damn hard to get back. I am sure we have all had these moments. I am sure that we have all felt as if we are broken to our innermost core and are not even sure where to begin to pick up the pieces and put them back together. For those of you who are reading and have had this happen, I pray that you were able to build yourself back up. I pray that you received healing and were able to then be stronger as a result. I now pray that the same will be true for me.