tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14228449811119361702023-11-16T03:51:44.140-08:00In His Hands....Homeschooling, Parenting Teens, Loving my Husband, and Living LifeC.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-36728622555904366452014-01-29T21:38:00.000-08:002014-01-29T21:38:19.245-08:00Appearances and Perceptions....Buzzards and Elephants <br />
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I'm often surprised at how people around me perceive my family. Routinely, folks make comments that are totally off the mark. Common misconceptions about me personally are that I have it "all together" and I am "so organized". From my friends that do not homeschool, or have never homeschooled they get the (very wrong) impression that we have "perfect" kids and are some how superior to them/their children/everyone else who hasn't homeschooled. Well, I'm here to set the record straight right now....that's a grossly misguided perception. <br />
Early on in our (12 year) journey through the eventful world of educating our children at home, I had this totally <strike>great</strike> skewed view of how children react to their surroundings. Well, truthfully, it wasn't all that skewed for young kids...but it was way, way, waaaaaaayyyyyyyyy off the mark for teens. Did you get that? I'll say it again....it was the WRONG idea. I'm here to tell ya that I was off in the la-la land of parenting 3-8 year olds. A truly pleasant, if not somewhat beguiling, sphere of parenting paradise. Yes, yes, I know there are plenty of trials here....but they are trials which, for the most part, are easily predictable. I'm not here to tell you exactly what to expect, or not expect, or to say I know it all...because I don't. I'm sitting on the polar opposite of knowing it all....I'm the antonym of know it all....the contrary...the inverse... I'm sure you've caught on by now.<br />
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Ok, the point of this rambling post is to say, things are usually not how they appear to casual acquaintances. And most certainly not how they appear on FaceBook. or Twitter. or on Christmas cards. In day to day life, I am a natural optimist. I choose to look on the bright side of most everything. The past couple of years have took a drastic, humbling toll on me......but I'm still the optimist. I'm also a realist. And here it is folks: 1.) You WILL have trouble somewhere in your life. Count on it. 2.) Just because you don't ___________ (insert unsavory behavior) does not mean that your offspring will not. 3.) The idea that if you put forth your very best, then you will receive the very best is not realistic. Give your best out of a desire to maintain high personal standard...not for the expectation of personal gain. 4.) If you are generally happy in this life, it will be for the reason of you *choosing* to be....if you wait for circumstances to accommodate you...life will be miserable. 5.) Someone is always ready to tell you what to expect next out of your child/spouse/etc, because their child/spouse/etc (blah, blah, blah). Um. No. Ultimately, there are no experts on how someone else will act. Ever. 6.) Give Grace....because somewhere you will need it.....in the most dire way. 7.) God is merciful. Truly. Always.<br />
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I know that this sounds like a depressing, downcast post, but I'm writing this on the "other side" of some very, very trying times. (not that they won't revisit me). I'm a chronic worrier. I have lots of other flaws, too. :-) But I'm in hopes that someone reading this will take the initiative to invest in thoughtful consideration of others who are struggling. Whether it is with their kids, spouse, illness, church, death, or whatever.....embrace the needs of that person with prayer....and kindness...empathy....and human touch. Human touch is powerful.<br />
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And for those having troubles....be honest. It is what it is. If it's something little, or big....don't try to cover it up, or maintain a certain appearance in hopes that those around you will have a misguided perception. ...instead, reach out for help from those around you. You'll be looking for the person/s that have encouraging words, gentle suggestions, and a genuine desire to help. Genuine. Unpretentious. <br />
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Don't be the "buzzard"....sitting up in a high place.....biding time until you can benefit from someone's misfortune. Rather, be the ....elephant....Compassionate....caring and protecting those around them....sharing in pain...sharing in joy.....<br />
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<br />C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-76060456284425325362013-06-24T20:38:00.000-07:002013-06-24T20:38:12.069-07:00My Soul's Keeper.................I think a post should be dedicated to the single most important gift in my life...Salvation. ♥<br />
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When I was a young girl, I went to a revival at Millerstown Baptist Church. My Pa was the pastor and Bro. David Woosley was the help. I was 9. I went in and out of church every weekend and many times in between with my family with no fear, doubt or concern for my soul. But one night, in the midst of Bro. David preaching the word of God, my heart felt condemned. I *knew* if I died I would go to Hell. I came to accountability in a split second. One minute, ok. Next minute burdened heart.<br />
I prayed my way to salvation. I was in trouble and I prayed for forgiveness and I meant business. The Lord saved my soul September 24, 1986. A time and a place. I can take you there and it's bright in my mind.<br />
Later in years, I was reading a church history book and one writer (early 1900s) explained it as "being loaded down and then all of a sudden the load was gone, as if I was carrying heavy<br />
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buckets and all of a sudden they weight wasn't there." That is my experience....a blessing and assurance from God. A salvation from eternal hell....a promise of a heavenly home. A lifting of a heavy burden.<br />
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I believe whatever religion or faith you are, that you must be born again into the Kingdom of God. I believe more than signing a card, or just saying a loud you accept Christ. Jesus Christ accepted me and forgave me of my sins and I'm eternally thankful.<br />
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No matter what I have in this life, my gift of Salvation will always be the most precious. C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-20933147494222700192013-06-14T17:27:00.001-07:002013-06-14T17:27:33.769-07:00The Best I Can Do at the Moment......<br />
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So, Jarrod and I are raising our family.....and we now have two teens. As of recent, I have been reflecting on situations in the past that often come back to haunt me. These are situations that I go over and over in my mind considering how they would have turned out different "if only I had...."<br />
Argh. I drive myself crazy with this. Why? Because I love my children and family and want to give them the best of what I have to give. <br />
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I tell my children that when I "change" my mind on something, it isn't because I am being mean, or that I've suddenly decided to give in and give the go ahead on things that I've previously said no to. It's because Jarrod and I have come to a better understanding on the subject, I have got an answer in prayer, or some other significant happening that shed light on the matter.<br />
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It seems like only yesterday I was 17 and getting married to Jarrod. My head was full of things: I KNEW how I was going to raise my kids, and had very strong ideas of what I would and wouldn't do. Of course, that lasted all of a couple of years. A late term miscarriage, a subsequent miscarriage, in law troubles, and other issues gave me a good dose of reality in a hurry. We never, ever, know the true story behind closed doors. I, naively, thought that all marriages were like mine, and what I had seen of my parents growing up. There are many things I would change within that time period. Some things I would change are so painful to think about I still boo-hoo over them. For one, I would have miscarried my babies at home instead of opting for surgical removal and leaving the hospital with no remains. For another, I would have been kinder to Jarrod's parents, even when folks weren't being kind to me. I have a long ol' list. (sigh)<br />
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BUT, on a brighter note, going through troubling times so very young, gave me a foot up a few years down the road when I had gained a bit of maturity. I learned that you can love someone although they hurt you. I learned that God knows just what to send, even when no one else knows what you need...HE does. <br />
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I wish I knew half as much now as I thought I did at 17. :-) Knowing I can't change the past, I look at it with the knowing that I was doing the best I could at the time....and for the moment, I try to tread carefully, and for the future...I try to rely on the Lord more.<br />
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C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-21575024134242807752013-06-03T19:22:00.000-07:002013-06-03T19:22:02.524-07:00Homeschooling...Again? Yes, Please. <br />
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So last August Alex went to public school....and Julia followed in October. I have had so very many questions, comments and thoughts from others on this topic that I am devoting this post to just that.<br />
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Alex. First, I have to say that I was ready for Alex to be out of the house before he actually was. This is not from a lack of love for Alex, but quite the opposite. I didn't want to be in an argument with him all of the time. As a mother, it is very, very difficult to have a guy on the brink of young adulthood right under your nose and have him be accountable to you for so much of his work. And for me, and for him, this wasn't the ideal situation. At all. And, quite honestly, his going to public school saved my sanity. I thought I was losing my mind. Really. No joke. For those of you who have not raised boys, please don't judge me. :-) I love Alex and am proud of the young man he is becoming. I haven't always been proud of the decisions he's made, but I've always loved him to the core. I am proud to say the past several months have been more balanced. Alex is going in to his Senior year and will continue that at the local high school so he can concentrate on his welding goals. Alex hasn't been impressed with a lot about the local high school, but he does LOVE the welding program and the drama program. So for Alex it will be 10 years of homeschooling, 2 years of public school.<br />
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Julia. Well, she followed Alex in October saying she was lonely. I cried when she left. Julia is very easy to school and is mellow and calm. I don't think Julia has ever raised her voice to me or her dad in her almost 14 years. Julia spent 7 months in public school and is making her reappearance in homeschool in August! YAY! Do I want to homeschool again? YES. Am I happy she's coming home? YES. Julia done exceptional in school and got along with everyone. She did, however, express to me on numerous occasions her awe at the lack of maturity in her peers. I found this a little comical since Julia was *the* youngest student in the high school. She went in at barely 13. All I can say for that is homeschooling is *drastically* different than public school. :-) Our homeschool experience has been steeped in community service, classical learning, hands-on projects, and love. I am so thankful for that.<br />
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Me. Let's just say I'm all geared up for another year of homeschooling with Julia. What I have missed: Learning together. Sharing together. Spontaneous trips for ice cream. Discussing life together. PJ days. Reading Classic lit aloud. ..................<br />
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Anyway, I am grateful for the opportunity to have given our children an alternate to conventional education. There's lots I would go back and do different, and lots I would leave the same. But one thing I do not regret is having Alex and Julia learning at home during those tender, formative years. I am nearly certain Alex would have been labeled ADHD in a public school setting as a five year old. :-) There was nothing about our home school that was institutional and we were free to discuss God as creator during our lessons. <br />
And for the record, I am not "anti-public school". Nor do I think my kids can "do no wrong" (snort). I do not think we are "better" than those who don't homeschool. (ha) On that same page, I am VERY comfortable with my kiddos social skills (have you met my kids???) I am confident they are well prepared for secondary education. And I do not feel like I owe an explanation of what our family does or doesn't do to well-meaning (or otherwise) family members or friends.<br />
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In my heart, I'll always be a homeschooling mom. I am grateful to be tutoring some wonderful young people. I use the same approach with them as I did with my children. Many times parents, teachers and even the students themselves are surprised at how well they do with the extra time and attention of tutoring. I am never surprised. Ever. Children are wonderful....and given the opportunity can blossom and thrive under even the most unfortunate circumstances. C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-87732389330086734632013-05-10T15:19:00.000-07:002013-05-10T15:19:13.953-07:00A Long, Long Year........... So, it's been almost one year since I lasted posted in my blog. Several times over the past year I have wrote a post only to leave it unpublished. This past year has brought a lot of heartache for me, the few (and I do literally mean few) that know what my life was like last summer knows that I was on my lowest limb. When I finally was gaining my footing, with the help of my loving husband, our church was rocked to the core by scandal. Although the events, in both cases, were completely out of my control and of no personal fault of mine, my heart broke....then broke some more. I hope never to relive many events of last summer. I'm leaving a few random thoughts below....and I hope I'll have the heart to blog more this summer.<br />
1.) A mother's love is like no other. When our children are babies, toddlers, and early elementary...it is impossible to see the challenges that will arise in the future. Some how, we are lulled into a false sense of security that if we do A then B will follow. Anyone who is a mother of a teenager (most likely) is aware of this. Love your children unconditionally, just as our God loves us...it is one of the most important things you could ever do for your child. I am grateful beyond written expression for my Sweet Son and Dear Daughter. May they always know there is absolutely nothing in this World that could make me not love them. Disappointment? Yes. Unloved? Never. <br />
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2.) Besides God, my Marriage is my rock. Handsome Hubby is my go-to for everything. I am thankful that I am married only once, have children by no other, and have never been intimate with any other person in this world. I am happy to be with him. Truly, sincerely, deeply, madly in love with this man. I don't desire to look at anyone, will not be heard commenting on the good looks of this guy or that...because I have this best....my love is reciprocated....and that is that. <br />
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3.) It is my belief that some things are already judged. By God. No matter what you call it, how you dice it, slice it, dress it up, or strip it down....the truth is what remains. It is what it is. We are commanded by God not to do certain things and to do others (THE BIG TEN!!!)<br />
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4.) If someone's beliefs offend you.... attacking them (verbally, physically or otherwise) is not the answer. The end.<br />
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5.) Teenagers need their parents to be present in their lives just as much as when they were little.<br />
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6.) I wish I was closer to my in-laws. It's sad that we live this close and never see each other. They raised one awesome guy and he's made a fabulous Husband and Daddy.<br />
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7.) I'm very glad that I have had the experience of parenting both genders.<br />
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8.) Be nice. I mean really...if you are an adult there is no excuse for being mean.<br />
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9.) Be patient with children. They aren't mini adults.<br />
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10.) If you aren't going to raise your children...don't have them. Grandparents should be able to be just that. <br />
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<br />C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-16116641417733204372012-05-14T17:42:00.000-07:002012-05-14T17:42:26.503-07:00<b>The Deacon's Daughter</b><br />
<b>Entry 1 </b><br />
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I'm not really certain when I realized what "labeling" was....or what it meant. I do remember that I was very young and that the first label that was slapped on my back was the "Deacon's Daughter". Now, at the very young age of 7 or 8, that meant no more to me than my Daddy breaking the bread and pouring the wine at our annual communion and foot washing every May. <br />
But as time went by and daily confrontations about my family's beliefs and convictions were raging....I started to understand that labeling was usually more important to the "labelER" than the "labelED". I attended school in the Bible Belt and didn't realize that those around me were being raised very similar to me, without the obvious signs like my wearing dresses all of the time, or my family not having a TV. We spent our Sundays with churches who were like minded for the most part, then on Monday I was back in school with children and sadly teachers who taunted, made fun of and questioned our "strange" life style. I was so very intimidated by the words of a young man (no names here) who I thought had no clue of God and salvation my seventh grade year. He was surrounded by a gaggle of girls who laughed at every cruel thing he said to me. I spent that year dodging into darkened doorways, hiding in the bathroom and hanging my head at lunch. I also spent a lot of time in prayer. By this time in my life I was a saved individual with an experience that was all mine. I was still very young and without a lot of personal convictions, but I trusted my parents. Some of my earliest memories were of them praying. I would hide near Daddy's prayer place to listen to him pray...and it comforted me when I heard him call my name with his knees in the dirt and his head bowed. There were times I held my breath when he would reach Heaven too afraid to move.<br />
Anyway, after a couple of years of my parents going to the school board, intimidation, humiliation and such...I was ready to move on to high school. Something changed around that time, my own convictions were lodging in my heart and I started noticing things going on around me. First of all, I realized that the boy who so humiliated me was the grandson of an "old time Baptist preacher" and that he was in no way ignorant to our way of life. Secondly, I started gaining my footing through the preaching I was hearing at church and the ever constant love and guidance of "The Deacon" and his dear wife.<br />
My three years in high schoool (graduated one year early through summer correspondence at UK) weren't "easy" but I only called my parents to my rescue one time during those years to help me deal with and get the grade I was due from a PE teacher who was charging me a "penalty" for dress standards. My parents never had to go board of education that time, I stood with both feet planted firmly on the ground and eye to eye and slowly, respectfully and with MUCH fear had my say to the teacher. and I didn't DIE or FAINT....I was so excited with my newly discovered ability... equality!! Woo-hoo! I, the dress- wearing, non- football game-going, pro-life, pro- child, anti lying, not so perfect, Deacon's Daughter had faced the enemy and won! I felt like the biblical David...and at that point the teacher was most certainly Goliath!<br />
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Those were hard years for me as I struggled to find a balance between my "church" acquaintances whom often declared that my parents were to "lenient" with me and my "school" peers and teachers who challenged my beliefs constantly. Oddly, I found that balance from learning from the relationships that didn't fall in either of those categories. I quickly learned that adults who felt threatened by my beliefs, for whatever reason, were almost always on the defensive. Likewise, I learned that those who were just curious had a way of honestly asking questions. Most importantly, I learned that my perception played the biggest role of all.<br />
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Someone recently suggested to me that my wearing dresses was a way of screaming" I'm a Christian". I didn't say anything, I just held my conviction close to my heart. I wanted to say (but didn't because I wasn't *asked* anything (another characteristic of the "threatened) : I suppose having the Holy Bible on my living room end table would be the same thing...but it's there, and there it will stay. Folks are going to think and believe what they want to think and believe. <br />
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So, in closing this scattered post, I will leave the words of wisdom from my favorite Deacon:<br />
Serve the Lord for yourself. (Ultimately, it's me that will stand before God and give an account for my ragged life)<br />
Everything that hoots ain't a hoot owl. (Regardless of words, dress, life, etc....just because some one "says so" don't make it so and vise versa)<br />
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If you sweep it under the rug, eventually you will make a pile and you (or even worse, someone else) is sure to trip over it. Clean up your messes as you make them. <br />
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The Eternally Grateful Deacon's Daughter<br />
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<br />C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-91510557793343120292012-03-05T19:16:00.003-08:002012-03-05T19:42:48.150-08:00Let them BE KIDS!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8YF-Q_RdYD9SIHjPZsLaeyobpXxOaVzqspv2lLX6ukmnyvmOR8OgTDv4KEUsIOhC0qsNouYFjMpbmcVDjFDQrMarYhHF7qUlzvxsx9mN7yVO4NGj_iVTwoHI2275VqEx8Ftyvi-w_LjV7/s1600/kids_playing2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8YF-Q_RdYD9SIHjPZsLaeyobpXxOaVzqspv2lLX6ukmnyvmOR8OgTDv4KEUsIOhC0qsNouYFjMpbmcVDjFDQrMarYhHF7qUlzvxsx9mN7yVO4NGj_iVTwoHI2275VqEx8Ftyvi-w_LjV7/s320/kids_playing2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716618878310551522" border="0" /></a>Soooo...it's been a very long time since I've chimed in here on my "blog"....but there's a subject that's been nagging me. Kids. Children. Youth. <br />WHY, oh, WHY are we trying to make them grow up so quickly??? Why aren't we trying to be parents instead of "friends"? I down right adore kids...they're funny, honest, innocent, and awesome. But I get so frustrated at the never ending stream of parents who are in such a hurry for their kids to grow up they are willing to sacrifice the very innocence of the child to make their child into a....????? I don't even know the word. Here is my take on this situation:<br />1.) UNPLUG your kid. Small children don't need Ipods, Iphones, etc plugged in to their ears all of the time. Limit TV/Video Game time. <br />2.) Do not sit your pre-school child in front of the TV or computer on a regular basis. Just don't. Please.<br />3.) READ to your child. <br />4.) PLAY PRETEND with your child. Imagination is awesome.<br />5.) COOK with your child.<br />6.) DRESS your child appropriately. Kids don't need booty shorts, mini skirts, hipster jeans, push up bras, etc. Do you REALLY need to be told this???<br />7.)LISTEN to your child. That doesn't mean be run over by your child, but you really learn a lot by listening. They may not think you are listening, they may even demand you are NOT listening....but still....LISTEN.<br />8.) INTERACT with your kiddo. When you are running errands or cleaning, or whatever...have a conversation about your surroundings, what you are doing, or anything! It's probably not a good idea to be trying to shush them while you text or carry on a phone conversation all of the time. (yes, I know there are the times..)<br />9.) LET them be a child....ENCOURAGE them to be a child......just because they ask for it, demand it, etc. doesn't mean it's the best thing for them.<br />10.) LOVE your child.<br /><br />My list could go on AND I purposely left out worship or anything pertaining to religion....we all have our own convictions, but the above should seem obvious from whatever walk of life you are from. Our children should be loved and protected. Their brains aren't developed to handle the amount of information or the type of information we, as adults, must contend with. <br />I am always baffled at the parents who gawk at talking about S-E-X with their kids, but they watch hours of evening TV, go around imitating (language and actions) the latest thing they viewed, and are at school (or on the bus) the majority of their waking hours. Here is a hint: If you don't inform your kid, someone else will misinform them. <br />Be aware of what is happening and stay on top of things. Growing up will happen quickly......childhood is just a short time.C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-53093888444718258262011-07-27T07:46:00.000-07:002011-07-27T08:18:35.875-07:00Weird, Strange, Unethical Homeschoolers!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLL7dQK1LFAiBr1wnTv71LteWjUrH7lvJIIYtf06-6YnGFk3J3p8eo4P9siWX2jSDhCL-2dl3UywPnMbaIWpd5YfYvoKPOs37s6IV3fGWyBd0ro2GuZP02D-QsYvO0hJ5LZPNvBBi24KgI/s1600/unsocialized+hs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLL7dQK1LFAiBr1wnTv71LteWjUrH7lvJIIYtf06-6YnGFk3J3p8eo4P9siWX2jSDhCL-2dl3UywPnMbaIWpd5YfYvoKPOs37s6IV3fGWyBd0ro2GuZP02D-QsYvO0hJ5LZPNvBBi24KgI/s320/unsocialized+hs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634044278383241810" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />So here we are about to start another year of homeschooling. For the most part the annoying persistence of well meaning folks to make us change our mind has stopped. Whether it's from an acknowledgement that we aren't doing a horrible job educating our kiddos (a slim piece of the pie), or they think that after this many years they aren't going to get through to us (a slightly larger piece of the pie) or that they think we are just too down right weird to talk to (ahem, the LARGEST piece of the pie). Which ever way it is, I'm happy that it's one less stress factor I have to deal with, especially right now when I am knee deep (well, let's face it, up to my nostrils) in forms, computer updates, books, lesson plans, and state notifications. What I would LOVE to tell some of these folks is that I am NOT anti-public school ( I know many HSers are, and that's certainly your prerogative), but we aren't. Both Handsome Hubby and myself went to public school right here in the county which we live. :-) I have to say, given our conservative views, I felt like the kids would have a better chance at getting a well rounded education without all of the peer (and teacher!) pressure that I went through. Our goal is an education that will serve our kids well. <br />Anyway, in the spirit of homeschooling and the oh-so-many negative ideas about it, I have to tell this short (and comically true) story from our homeschooling journey.<br />When my kiddos were little, I had a hard time finding somewhere (local) to walk that I didn't worry about Sweet Son and Dear Daughter being hit by a car. Anyway, I found this nice little cemetery down the road..it was perfect. Gravel, approx. a mile loop from start to finish, back out of the way, and no one stopping to ask why the kids weren't in school (well, we hope not!). Anyway, a few days a week we would go out and walk, the kids had to do one loop and then they would play ( I know it sounds horrible) by the cemetery while I finished my walk. I wouldn't let them play among the headstones, so they played in a little area just off the cemetery surrounded by fields. I know there was one neighbor at the end of the road to the cemetery that stared as we made our many journeys out each week. I would wave, smile, and go on. So one day, when I finished my laps, the kids came up to me carrying bones. I finally figured they were cattle bones. Anyway, nothing would do but for Sweet Son to carry his jaw bone home for a bleach bath and study. That was the day the mowers came early, and the curious end of the road guy was out walking. This was earlier on in our homeschooling journey and I know the conversation that followed must have made me look like a lunatic. I expected health services, the board of ed., and the county welfare for two weeks afterwards. It was a rather awkward conversation, made worse by me feeling the need to explain. (a need that has LONG since passed, I might add). I laugh now when I think of it, and I'm happy to say we've had many other *awkward* situations in which I just let the folks think what they wanted. I could just imagine the conversation at *their* dinner table that night..."you know those homeschoolers go to the cemetery every couple of days and play, today they were even carrying out bones!" LOL<br />Our homeschooling journey has made us wealthier and for those of you who homeschool you know I'm not talking cash here! We've met some WONDERFUL folks and made life long friends. I have learned how to avoid sticky topics in conversation with my "not homeschooling friends". As for my students (to whom I am extremely partial) they have developed into fine young people that I am proud of. As for the nay-sayers I am glad that we started this journey and if it ended tomorrow, I don't think I would regret one minute of time I have shared with my children. (OK, so I could have done without some the arguments....) Anyway, I'm thankful to be starting another year...C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-83462670665604027582011-07-12T05:06:00.000-07:002011-07-12T05:59:12.971-07:00A Girl's Day Out ....with a Handsome Chauffeur<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPGst_ktEpEaiPmfrr4iO_uI4vxkS88HziJNxYGgw9wyB1JhVSpyniCWdHAmtNc_ytBu0_dMiU2WCWJk8SuiTbY-JT_5ZNB6IxY4Wc9CJ6EPiiYjtoWt398OxpH7SG9iAZmHivG-XRcxW/s1600/001.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPGst_ktEpEaiPmfrr4iO_uI4vxkS88HziJNxYGgw9wyB1JhVSpyniCWdHAmtNc_ytBu0_dMiU2WCWJk8SuiTbY-JT_5ZNB6IxY4Wc9CJ6EPiiYjtoWt398OxpH7SG9iAZmHivG-XRcxW/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628444491646105458" border="0" />My handsome hubby driving me, My Mom and Dear Daughter to Princeton, KY to tour the Adsmore Home.</a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeX9ZZ3FGTadVSpPTol0xJLhlH8V6Ky_T-jruJxEYzSerbpHWEbi2mYPogQjbUi133xqaLemH-oAZNEvqae9shsiAKiuHg8Q8GJTZZPjm0HbBcJ5SLVWya26elzKL_5P65LASms0mWC6qI/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeX9ZZ3FGTadVSpPTol0xJLhlH8V6Ky_T-jruJxEYzSerbpHWEbi2mYPogQjbUi133xqaLemH-oAZNEvqae9shsiAKiuHg8Q8GJTZZPjm0HbBcJ5SLVWya26elzKL_5P65LASms0mWC6qI/s320/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628443918389426994" border="0" /></a>First we stopped off at the square and went to see the Trail of Tears memorial. This area is where the Native American Indians camped...there was a plentiful water supply. This picture is of Mom and Dear Daughter walking down to the memorial.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPoyIcwowikiCbKuIrQq55q0kBnaRotAOOuF0LPTjDTsDXep87tnLcC2jQ7l-N2QMrefqW4TsfjeKcL1cM1VRgQCDWoMuYEkdzSITyVAzmPea7LuB5ITjji5Clhy1Pm-RqK0Q0tsq7mIBe/s1600/003.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdU0dNsrSFcsDSjmg031dTtZVCXAhWJGQPaXJA56Sv0GUL7vHluLr2Vn0Gqd8JA5e8P8q7U6Y-2cvliHmIDic7MbfqhoYaJsv7UU3zqGdF28yaTDIMh54nCMWOG844chNJXafDtP1m_he/s1600/004.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdU0dNsrSFcsDSjmg031dTtZVCXAhWJGQPaXJA56Sv0GUL7vHluLr2Vn0Gqd8JA5e8P8q7U6Y-2cvliHmIDic7MbfqhoYaJsv7UU3zqGdF28yaTDIMh54nCMWOG844chNJXafDtP1m_he/s320/004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628440850244756978" border="0" /></a>Dear Daughter in front of one of the signs...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJ39ntJY7CoLrCCvq2n-C9RyVwDvMX3_NDTt7UIOaDaQ6te3S6NZoqpzfvysfM_gr_JpwEQ1wmd4Q7_wAk74Wx4FHx14aMhm_Y2nTuMNaPUBiwvzNq196iV55KkXAgTylsvwi46MGNQXm/s1600/007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJ39ntJY7CoLrCCvq2n-C9RyVwDvMX3_NDTt7UIOaDaQ6te3S6NZoqpzfvysfM_gr_JpwEQ1wmd4Q7_wAk74Wx4FHx14aMhm_Y2nTuMNaPUBiwvzNq196iV55KkXAgTylsvwi46MGNQXm/s320/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628440260718506082" border="0" /></a>Me, Handsome Hubby and Dear Daughter....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfZWSzmLY5lmbvXi501caxIAzZjVuFMqMixwFEKy776Kv8Y0E9-wW_WDIU3DqZ-CkAxoVR1yOgiGE49vbC4ps-Gb0MtgcK9Iu1wUZgQ-Vf_WZJ2LszyAxDDUD_3S44SnZMKLpLG4VwFcS/s1600/011.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfZWSzmLY5lmbvXi501caxIAzZjVuFMqMixwFEKy776Kv8Y0E9-wW_WDIU3DqZ-CkAxoVR1yOgiGE49vbC4ps-Gb0MtgcK9Iu1wUZgQ-Vf_WZJ2LszyAxDDUD_3S44SnZMKLpLG4VwFcS/s320/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628439710944048722" border="0" /></a>Handsome Hubby and Dear Daughter exploring the area...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSG0w8MlcPBEGs7vZYHoRh2o6fG8BxYUTIyUiWUREdXypYWS72QO5_bbbXT2fIuuygtwX_5lCk-B8BBa2UZ4qo5ItWZvRke0FCght9q7FgZu30WzdVtQ99KAUty36K20IidYY4IJW-7qAg/s1600/014.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSG0w8MlcPBEGs7vZYHoRh2o6fG8BxYUTIyUiWUREdXypYWS72QO5_bbbXT2fIuuygtwX_5lCk-B8BBa2UZ4qo5ItWZvRke0FCght9q7FgZu30WzdVtQ99KAUty36K20IidYY4IJW-7qAg/s320/014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628439161832679602" border="0" /></a>The Adsmore Home. Delightful visit! Can't wait to go back! Me, Mom and Dear Daughter on the front porch.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQF39yarN80l8KHFqCSjV2ytcIGnTRzOt4U443XS-u1HDc-8SSfJnwyCeNB7ygQnyJ3bQ85N16KzzTFj9x2dJsO9qmap6WUc6LGd14s6yvt9fBOjoPFOPV5_EdB5nqbNvgVyqL0Nmepm5j/s1600/018.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQF39yarN80l8KHFqCSjV2ytcIGnTRzOt4U443XS-u1HDc-8SSfJnwyCeNB7ygQnyJ3bQ85N16KzzTFj9x2dJsO9qmap6WUc6LGd14s6yvt9fBOjoPFOPV5_EdB5nqbNvgVyqL0Nmepm5j/s320/018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628438766578199762" border="0" /></a>I found a small tree limb that looked like antlers...then I decided they were horns. :-) LOL<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih09BWpmNeW_PbsZe4SFW28GOe57ClL6hL9UEa-zFUBHn3TS_gtkXdjjk2dXpO4EjARKmgyIsr4_aeszRlk7xaKma2BY1ZgOlyIaWKKeeIEw_wlQFzOTu2cdmFudp39md27bu4up-J62w1/s1600/019.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih09BWpmNeW_PbsZe4SFW28GOe57ClL6hL9UEa-zFUBHn3TS_gtkXdjjk2dXpO4EjARKmgyIsr4_aeszRlk7xaKma2BY1ZgOlyIaWKKeeIEw_wlQFzOTu2cdmFudp39md27bu4up-J62w1/s320/019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628438455845014962" border="0" /></a>Dear Daughter and Handsome Hubby on the side porch of the Adsmore Home.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sLVt6UZlyig_gmJr5zbca8GahfF7Q8a_3b1V-91Bfcm1HKmajt44fHaaUD5Vw6bLn8QKP0X6XtNc2ROF0RX3h0m_g9aEiR9XHTyjswTLeeDlyqX-vLe1eYADMwPp2ZnqV8uOCEKECFWC/s1600/020.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sLVt6UZlyig_gmJr5zbca8GahfF7Q8a_3b1V-91Bfcm1HKmajt44fHaaUD5Vw6bLn8QKP0X6XtNc2ROF0RX3h0m_g9aEiR9XHTyjswTLeeDlyqX-vLe1eYADMwPp2ZnqV8uOCEKECFWC/s320/020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628438007107817122" border="0" /></a>Mom and Dear Daughter in the gardens area....very fitting, Julia and Mom both love flowers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkXpxSSHuzYcmNFmEV-IYmh9TWT7HNQ9g49EMDXAJyskavKAWaHBPaWUr9qdnVGJxVuk4WsJNUeC8UP4HET5QvrDRHtbsK8an70VoMS39T9nHe_qx1lai_cLWVcVW6PoHiaTXQ9J3rPOp/s1600/022.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkXpxSSHuzYcmNFmEV-IYmh9TWT7HNQ9g49EMDXAJyskavKAWaHBPaWUr9qdnVGJxVuk4WsJNUeC8UP4HET5QvrDRHtbsK8an70VoMS39T9nHe_qx1lai_cLWVcVW6PoHiaTXQ9J3rPOp/s320/022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628437356822919778" border="0" /></a><br />Me and Mama in the back seat coming home. I loved the talk time.<br /><br />Daddy and Mama LOVE history and are forever more visiting historical sites and homes. My mom LOVES old homes. She had been wanting to take me and Dear Daughter (Sweet Son doesn't share our old home enthusiasm) to the Adsmore Home for some time. Right now they have the Wedding Theme on display, it was wonderful! We also visited the Trail of Tears memorial, walked some of the square and had lunch at Pizza Hut. Handsome Hubby was off work and volunteered to drive. Dear Daughter was over joyed at that prospect and took the front seat to be with her Daddy for the drive to and from. My Sweet Mama and I finished our day in the bean patch picking beans and chatting more. I don't know whenever I have had a more enjoyable day.<br />My wonderful Dad and Alex spent the day together. Romping and stomping over the fields and they took a little trip to Brownsville to Mis Amigos for lunch. During the heat of the day they sprawled out in the living room reading. Two Peas in a Pod, they are!C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-35598050823803788502011-06-26T19:30:00.000-07:002011-06-26T20:03:05.799-07:00Anger.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAO1ptnvni9BCq9EbBQ4jgimXntGogVFSSgm7nMbem_11Bhk7H3ljEbKfzsmLOmIhtzgjvlOc8L7xYCQlXgz5HE4rA3_jRTNOGwqYybp9GRSZNy4mh1AO8JV33x1X4lZTlft1s4nbGCTzP/s1600/angry+woman%2521.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAO1ptnvni9BCq9EbBQ4jgimXntGogVFSSgm7nMbem_11Bhk7H3ljEbKfzsmLOmIhtzgjvlOc8L7xYCQlXgz5HE4rA3_jRTNOGwqYybp9GRSZNy4mh1AO8JV33x1X4lZTlft1s4nbGCTzP/s320/angry+woman%2521.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622728194088606594" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A couple of weeks back I was in walmart with my Dear Daughter and her friend...we were shopping for supplies for an enrichment class. Anyway, here I was at the candy aisle, looking for candy bugs...I was busy and didn't see the lady behind me and unknowing stepped in front of her. But, no fear, she let me know...I heard a huge, "WELL EXCUSE ME!" I jumped and said, "oh my, I'm sorry, I didn't see you." She proceeded to give me a mouth full of garbage at which point I started to think I may know this person and she was trying to pull some sort of strange joke on me. (That or I was on some sadly skewed version of candid camera) I asked, "Are you for real?" She (in so many words) let me know she was. I was beyond amazed this lady was so angry at me accidentally stepping in front of her. I found it comical, with a chuckle said, "Well, Maam, I do hope this is the worst thing that happens to you today." I said this instantly without thinking, with a smile on my face and my hand gently on her arm. ( I must learn to hold my tongue) Well, this infuriated her more, her facial expression went from bad to worse as she said even more (ahem) "nice" things. Dear Daughter and Friend were standing there with mouths agape. I told them not to worry about it. It would be ok that this lady obviously didn't know any better than to act like this. I patted Ms. Angry on the arm and told her to have a nice day and walked away.<br />This experience led to an interesting conversation with the kiddos with me about Anger. I first told them, that more than likely something else in the person's life had made them lash out in anger. But I have this little saying about anger...reserve it for the times it will accomplish something and don't let it corrupt you. Anger can be a great motivator. However, it can also drain a person without accomplishing anything.<br />I feel like that we, as a whole society, are becoming so involved with ourselves and what we want that everything gets pushed aside. It's often easy to let your anger flare, or to lash out at someone because they said or did something "first". I don't have an explosive temper, so it's usually not an issue for me. Other times I *choose* not to get angry simply because I don't want to waste my energy on something that isn't important to me.<br />Of course there are the times I absolutely do get angry, I try to make those times productive. After I apologize to those around me for things I've said, made sure I didn't damage the floor when I stomped my foot, put drops in my eyes to help with the busted blood vessels, unclenched my teeth, and took deep breaths to help lower my blood pressure I try to address the issue. :-)<br />Really, all joking aside, try to save anger for things that matter, things that can be helped, most importantly issues that are deserving of anger. So many times, Anger is just a needless waste of energy (and who needs to waste that, right??) I feel badly for folks who have so much garbage in their lives that they have developed a serious anger issue. Ultimately, though, we choose. I have observed some folks with utter destruction in their lives go through it without the added burden of anger, it seems they reach the other side of their trouble stronger, more whole, and more content.<br />Think before you _________________-(insert anger action. i.e. scream, curse, hit things, snort, stomp feet, tear your hair...well you get the picture.) QUOTE BELOW:<br /><br /><span class="body">Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.</span><br /><span class="bodybold"> <a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/marktwain120156.html">Mark Twain</a> </span>C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-90887119380901251052011-06-06T06:15:00.000-07:002011-06-06T06:55:33.589-07:00Modern Modesty ....and Young Ladies...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1cUqXs_9AOnwSwQJWBC7Q7hiLWlNyk8I-UTdliVb2U7f_8AgY6ltHJpEsK1iySVvST8-nIx2T7Pi9cd1k95gtFC4u0zaYKFzsaNc74X6C7d528K7DSmGQ4ZHavwBSK1eDwDK5iwwYGQT/s1600/Momsfor+modesty.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1cUqXs_9AOnwSwQJWBC7Q7hiLWlNyk8I-UTdliVb2U7f_8AgY6ltHJpEsK1iySVvST8-nIx2T7Pi9cd1k95gtFC4u0zaYKFzsaNc74X6C7d528K7DSmGQ4ZHavwBSK1eDwDK5iwwYGQT/s320/Momsfor+modesty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615105040872404210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I know, using Modesty with the word Modern is *almost* an oxymoron. So very frustrating.<br />I am appalled and disgusted by what we have done to our girls. It doesn't take more than a few minutes in any clothing retail store to determine we are undermining the self esteem and self worth of our daughters.<br />Let me first be clear that I am speaking on decency here...modest in the sense of avoiding indecency or impropriety. Anyone who knows my family well knows that I am always wearing a modest skirt or a dress. I am well aware not everyone shares the same convictions. But regardless of how you choose to dress your girls you can do so *modestly*. Meaning, covering their bodies, and not dressing them in clothes that are sexually suggestive. More over, we can behave in a way as adults that doesn't say to our girls, "dress provocatively to encourage attention from the opposite sex". I have never quite understood why women who cared at all about themselves felt it necessary to make sure their cleavage was showing. Really. What has happened to us???<br />I personally, want my sweet daughter to feel like her self worth is more than her body. I *don't* want her to feel like she has to "show" to be pretty. or accepted.<br />Young ladies should not be encouraged to use their bodies that way. It's degrading. It's disgusting. It's WRONG.<br />Some how our society has gotten the idea that if it's natural, it's fine to expose and that if you are modest you are somehow saying that certain areas of your body are "bad" or certain behaviors (breast feeding for one) is wrong. There is beauty in modesty. There is respect in modesty.<br /><br />I believe for so many parents it's the need for their child to "fit in" that lends us to letting go of some of our reservations. I, as a parent, can understand that. But somewhere in the rush to "grow up" our girls we've lost what is so important. Let them be children. By nature, we are adults much, much longer than we are children. Childhood is a precious time. Nurture your girls, love your girls, encourage your girls, educate your girls, pray with your girls, but please let them be just that....little girls. Encourage your tween/teen girls to be modest young ladies by example. Be the sex educator of your girls. Talk to them, explain to them, and listen to them.<br />While I most certainly don't have all of the answers and I (along with my Handsome Hubby) are raising a young lady of our own, I know that what society is leaning to is *not* the answer.<br /><br />Here is a great article (by CNN no less!) on this topic (Parents Don't Dress your Little Girls Like Tramps)<br />http://articles.cnn.com/2011-04-19/opinion/granderson.children.dress_1_elementary-school-girls-push-up-bra-plastic-surgeon?_s=PM:OPINION <br /><br />I'll close by leaving you with this quote...<br /><br /><span class="body">You have a good many little gifts and virtues, but there is no need of parading them, for conceit spoils the finest genius. There is not much danger that real talent or goodness will be overlooked long, and the great charm of all power is modesty.</span><br /><span class="bodybold"> <a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/l/louisamaya133247.html">Louisa May Alcott</a> </span><br /><div style="overflow: hidden; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; border: medium none;"><br /><br /></div>C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-78323285128603919952010-11-23T14:57:00.000-08:002010-11-23T15:25:16.936-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0vp_95rQWbfAvTaBXO-smVnPlZhjizJZp6ryDIanrMdxJlKlF2HokzL0oRsphgiakeYZoOOTjg2kbR1ddAzmtk0qT4FnyGhlVXy3hre1gHk3Yldvps3qxPWHiY3lTD55FZN5JecJYVBl/s1600/1765781.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0vp_95rQWbfAvTaBXO-smVnPlZhjizJZp6ryDIanrMdxJlKlF2HokzL0oRsphgiakeYZoOOTjg2kbR1ddAzmtk0qT4FnyGhlVXy3hre1gHk3Yldvps3qxPWHiY3lTD55FZN5JecJYVBl/s320/1765781.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542890160431396642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Comfort is what is on my mind today, I jotted a few lines down below while I was considering what "comforted" me. Simple things that bring joy to my heart and contentment to my life There are things that are comforting to me that aren't sure or certain or even long-lasting, but I am thankful for none the less.<br /><br />I think that it is important that we take the time to comfort those in unfortunate situations, those who are scared or in need. The human touch is powerful. God's touch is divine. I'm thankful for the "only a little while" blessings in my life, but I am most thankful for my salvation and how real it is. Ultimately, that's all that will matter. But while I am here...I want to pray often, forgive quickly, love deeply, and put my *faith* in the unfailing. Yesterday is gone, Tomorrow may not come, but we do have today......<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Comfort<br /><br />The chiming of the church's bells,<br />the singing of old hymns;<br />Kittens basking in the sun,<br />Conversation with my friends.<br /><br />Holding hands with my husband, dear,<br />Seeing my children sleep;<br />spending time with my parents,<br />a pasture of grazing sheep.<br /><br />A kiss upon my cheek from the<br />children God gave to me;,<br />A rainbow after a storm,<br />The shadow of a big oak tree.<br /><br />Cows munching in pastures green,<br />Wind chimes playing a tune;<br />The sound of mama's laughter,<br />Finding the face in the moon.<br /><br />The smell of Daddy's work shop,<br />The sound of Pa calling the cattle;<br />Being held by Jarrod,<br />a thoughtful game of scrabble.<br /><br />The sweet, woody smell of<br />Pa and Nanny's front door,<br />The purr of my orange cat;<br />The feel of my blankets<br />when I'm worn out flat.<br /><br />The sound of my name said in prayer,<br />the knowing for sure that I will be *there*,<br />Not a maybe, or I think, or perhaps I will be...<br />But a *for certain* where I will spend my eternity...<br /><br />Comfort here is fleeting, a moment, a wisp,<br />but salvation is the only comfort for the life after this......C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-32498276060646424452010-10-11T09:09:00.000-07:002010-10-11T09:34:45.199-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwv8T2qnf9OhvOBFJOjPR2k2ulN_TE22zEzVTE1r2sKxCsY5_MWIjALqg-VYS8Q-nmyQRAHwboRQ7GrMQu9sQPM9aJfqNZNXPm_BkKUK_9UuKJL-v0ujkAz7eHqEo8PlKvh0ZKpwOZfYWD/s1600/024.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwv8T2qnf9OhvOBFJOjPR2k2ulN_TE22zEzVTE1r2sKxCsY5_MWIjALqg-VYS8Q-nmyQRAHwboRQ7GrMQu9sQPM9aJfqNZNXPm_BkKUK_9UuKJL-v0ujkAz7eHqEo8PlKvh0ZKpwOZfYWD/s320/024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526821768755465810" border="0" /></a>A Legacy of Love<br /><br />Several years ago, I was at my grandparent's house, Nanny B sent me to her bedroom to lay something on the dresser. As I was leaving something on Grandaddy's desk caught my eye.<br />I found a stack of papers with hand tracings on them. In each one was a trace of Grandaddy's hand and inside of his was a much smaller one. I leafed through them to find all seven of "us" there. Us being his grandchildren. It brought tears to my eyes. I asked him about it and he told me that when we were really little he would sit us on his knee and trace out our hands inside of his. He told me he looked at them every day and remembered something about each of us.<br />I pondered that later in the day while taking care of my then toddler and baby. I thought about what Grandaddy had done for all of us. Every summer we would go to work with him. He runs a laundry route and in Bowling Green and each of us would take at least one turn during the summer of driving around with him and "helping". Our day included laughs, breakfast and lunch out with him, screams as he pretended to be asleep driving, and *always* a stack of used laundry tickets to take home for play. He was the Grandaddy that made me brownies when I got off the bus at their place every now and then after school. Trips to the woods, to the pond, and an awesome fishing and hunting buddy for any of the grandkids that cared to go with him. I fondly remember family gatherings with his guitar perched on his knee as he belted out songs he made up about each of the grand children. Grandaddy's dear hunting friend was my OB/GYN and they both wept when two pregnancies ended sadly. Grandaddy didn't show up the day I had Sweet Son until my c-section was successfully over. When I was rolled into the operating room my Doc said, "he couldn't stand the pressure of this." :-) Truth is, Grandaddy hurt with us all....and rejoiced with us all. I've heard him pray, sing, comfort, guide, and correct....all with a heart full of love.<br />One of the best things about Grandaddy is Nanny. :-) He met her in a strawberry patch and waited the few years until she was "courting age". When I lay down at night, I'm laying on the bed bought with Grandaddy's war money. They married a few days before Grandaddy went to Korea. Nanny anxiously awaited his letters while at home with her parents. She tucked away the money that he sent and bought furniture for their home upon his return. Many Friday nights found me at Grandaddy and Nanny's house, Nanny would paint my fingernails as we watched Murder She Wrote.<br />Words cannot express how thankful I am for Grandaddy and Nanny to a part of my life. They are both older now, and a stroke has changed Grandaddy somewhat, but not so much as I cannot see the man I remember. This past Sunday I was blessed to be in church with my husband, kids, parents, Grandparents from both sides, and Jarrod's maternal Grandparents. My heart bubbled over that we could worship together. When Julia was saved this Spring, my parents, my grandparents, Jarrod's great aunt were there to experience it with us.<br />When I came into church Sunday morning Grandaddy gave me a hug and said, let me show you what I've kept in my pocket for as long as I have had it....he pulled out my Junior year picture on a key chain, then he said, "Every night, I flip it over and look at it before I go to sleep." <br />My heart turned as I hugged him, because as nature goes, we don't have as many years ahead as we do behind us as Grandfather and Grandaughter. ....but the Legacy will remain.C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-87313334534992719062010-08-15T18:28:00.000-07:002010-08-15T18:59:21.682-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQaBy9UfpvXXGH_k0NnYyYktpUGj4zB-GZPwjCSmGemBkNVLJcVejwlNrfiMhO3tk4Ew_grxOusBELQ2iefTpYnDyjKZEEo0PEgoAkk1RMisXWlsqymcHnCDuRjqsAamaCzDQ_LnFpG5ff/s1600/garbage.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQaBy9UfpvXXGH_k0NnYyYktpUGj4zB-GZPwjCSmGemBkNVLJcVejwlNrfiMhO3tk4Ew_grxOusBELQ2iefTpYnDyjKZEEo0PEgoAkk1RMisXWlsqymcHnCDuRjqsAamaCzDQ_LnFpG5ff/s320/garbage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505821131171789106" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Talking Trash....</span><br /><br /><br />It's been a while since I have posted, it seems like my life has gotten crazy busy...and I don't know if I would have posted now except for my need to soap box a bit about something that I am noticing INCREASINGLY!!! I am horrified, mortified, chagrined and down right disgusted.<br /><br />TALKING TRASH!!! I'm tellin' ya! It's everywhere, but it is most disturbing when it's children. We have such an awesome (rolls eyes) generation of parents who can't keep their language to a decent level, that our little ones (and I do mean little, many times by the age of 4) have a colorful, extensive vocabulary of offensive words. AND they use them... a lot.<br /><br />Let me get one thing straight, I am not talking about **educating** your children, both of my kiddos had the basic anatomical parts down by first or second grade, with the **correct** term for each part. They were also accustomed to Bible readings with words that we deemed unfit for average conversation. I also didn't ban certain literature because of a "bad words". But I would toss a book (movie, poem, etc) in a second because of the craziness being labeled as "cool".<br /><br /> I am talking about TRASH, that's right folks, garbage, refuse, filth...all from the mouths of babes, tweens, and teens....all learned from (you guessed it) ....PARENTS and the filth they are allowed to view and hear.<br /><br />Why, Why, Why?? are we doing this to our young people. I don't mean to be grouping them all, there are the exceptions, but I am getting overwhelmed at the number of plugged in, belly button showing, hip slung, cartilage pierced, tattooed, bust baring young mothers (and Dads) who are dragging around children who slowly morph into them. Dumping their kids at every turn to be with the new "flame"....all the while, a steady flow of "trash" streaming from their lips. And when their kids pick this up...it's "cute". :-( ARGH!!!<br /><br />I begin to feel like I'm weird, am I the only one who feels like this is craziness??? I know I'm not, but it's becoming such a trend that I'm very concerned.<br />My heart warms when I see parents who are taking their children to heart, trying to guide them decently in a world full of weird ideas. My heart warms even more when I see a young person choosing to take the high road where this filth is concerned. It IS NOT goody two shoes, holier than thou, or snooty...It's decency, which will take you farther than talking trash.<br /><br />KUDOS to families who are making an effort to censor their viewing and listening material and their own language and actions. Decency grows STRONG KIDS!!!C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-27452173606091600932010-06-07T18:00:00.000-07:002010-06-07T18:43:36.789-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYbLHLzDUDsWRcDvQJyKTrJuuPvnGBNIYa-8VFho7O9sxTG-ZJfI8n0PENVvPPI6RpuCloGuDBJ5T05_84COffNADX7VhLKnjRwEVg7pQS831osDezyD0pU9R7g5R6apkDtnogvCLrDXg/s1600/homeschool;.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 141px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYbLHLzDUDsWRcDvQJyKTrJuuPvnGBNIYa-8VFho7O9sxTG-ZJfI8n0PENVvPPI6RpuCloGuDBJ5T05_84COffNADX7VhLKnjRwEVg7pQS831osDezyD0pU9R7g5R6apkDtnogvCLrDXg/s320/homeschool;.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480211934944485250" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When Something EVERYTHING Goes Wrong…….<br />Have you ever had one of those days (weeks, months?) when it seems like it’s one blooper after another. The kind of day for which the word BUMMER was invented? Oh yes, I’m sure you are familiar. Nearly for sure if you are a parent and down right CERTAIN if you homeschool.<br />If you are going to succeed (ahem…not go crazy) there’s only one thing to do:<br />RISE ABOVE THE SITUATION!!!<br />I readily agree that the first way up is down on your knees, but there is still a responsibility on our shoulders. I have learned that the pleasantness of our day sometimes (not always!) depends upon how I react to certain situations. I have long since given up on getting bent out of sorts over spilled drinks, broken dishes, flooded toilets, ripped jeans, etc. (although I haven’t quite mastered this skill with perpetually messy rooms), because it has no positive effect. I have a long way to go, but I’ve come a very LONG way from my former (pre homeschooling days) self. If I join the drama circus things go down hill at a dizzying speed. If I react calmly, it’s usually contagious. Things calm down. If I give in to tears, anger, frustration, that’s definitely contagious. And there has been ( and will be) the times when “stuff” just gets the best of me , but RISING ABOVE definitely works. I make my self “rate” a problem ….how bad “really” is it? 0 being a nothing,nada, zilch (like a spilled drink, having to reschedule an appt. ) 10 being horrid (life threatening or sure death). MANY times I’m pulling a negative number out of the hat. Some things just don’t matter, conserve your energy for things that do.<br />My kids aren’t little anymore and we are well over our half way journey of homeschooling, with Sweet Son we’re hitting the home stretch. I have learned more from my kiddos than I think they have ever learned from me in those years. Recently I find myself overwhelmed with all that I have to do, places I have to go, papers to fill out, classes to teach and trying to get two very different children to their very different activities on top of teaching, cleaning, cooking, planning, shopping, volunteering, coaching, cajoling, encouraging, soothing, mustering, catering, calming, doctoring, mentoring, juggling, …well you get the point. BUT…it’s nothing that other people don’t do (and often times LESS) every day. I’ve always been a doer, and very stubborn….my mom politely calls it determined and persistent. I’ve never been one to turn away from the truth, but to hit it head on and do what I can to solve problems….I’m a bit nervous about facing these new (scary, emotional, hectic, frustrating, hair raising, teeth gritting, door slamming, foot stomping, eye rolling) teen and tween years. I tell my kiddos that just as they’ve never been this age before I’ve never parented this age before…..I’m not READY for it! But, I think I can RISE ABOVE any given situation at hand (please understand I mean every day normal situation and not situations that rank in the 8-10 area) to give my home a bit of peace. I’ll be ready to rise above by falling down on my knees for guidance……C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-35659642382546661192010-05-26T20:10:00.000-07:002010-05-26T20:37:37.255-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCfEzU5Z7FK0zDmvHz1D3ZYv-zg3mk7QZua1QJQR4iWMk80swSY0t3s_DdcxaD3YXSmmgJ0NU_GdicvCYUWArhh-wRj5MURQRVB2cNzXJJdZZMnrWHQkmG5yO6WCv_-cmJ4rV5aFsFFry/s1600/calvin.hobbes.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCfEzU5Z7FK0zDmvHz1D3ZYv-zg3mk7QZua1QJQR4iWMk80swSY0t3s_DdcxaD3YXSmmgJ0NU_GdicvCYUWArhh-wRj5MURQRVB2cNzXJJdZZMnrWHQkmG5yO6WCv_-cmJ4rV5aFsFFry/s320/calvin.hobbes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475788656794045874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">FRIENDSHIP</span></span><br /></div><br /><br />Have you ever met the person that is *so* your friend when they need something from you? Or the person who is your friend to your face but not behind your back? Or the friend who couldn't keep the personal info told to them in confidence? Or maybe the friend who doesn't come through when you need them the most? Or you may have even met the friend who won't ask/tell something to you face to face, but is more than willing to go to someone else? Perhaps you've met the "needy" friend as well who just can't seem to get by without getting something from you on a regular basis? Or the friend that when you see their name on the caller ID you cringe, knowing it's a "favor request" since that is the only time they contact you? I'm using the word "friend" quite loosely here if you haven't guessed.....<br /><br />I think we all have these types of people in our life, and if you let it, it can drag you down. The feeling of always having to live up to the person's needs and expectations....But what's on my mind is not these folks, but their polar opposites. TRUE FRIENDS<br /><br />A TRUE FRIEND is a friend for life. Period. No matter the occasion or event. They don't cheat you, participate or encourage gossip about you or your loved ones. They don't dis you when your views aren't the same or you have differing opinions. They come through for you every time, they listen, they care. I think friends like these are few and far between in life. I have people in my life that I care about, love to talk to, enjoy hearing from and am happy every time I see them.....but not all are true friends.<br />I am a saved, born again, Heaven bound person, so my truest friend is my savior, Jesus Christ. He's all of these things and more importantly, he's my redeemer. And being the Awesome Savior he is, I think he provided people in our lives that make a profound difference. Those who immediately come to mind when you NEED someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, an unbiased ear...<br />A TRUE FRIENDSHIP doesn't change as the years pass, you pick up right where you left off, be it a couple of days passed, or a couple of decades. A TRUE FRIENDSHIP isn't hinged on phone conversations everyday, matching necklaces, or dinner invitations.....but on a connection for which there are no words, written explanations, or just expression, but that just IS.<br /><br />TRUE FRIENDSHIP is a blessing......C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-64496426799050754642010-05-06T05:50:00.000-07:002010-05-06T06:35:12.561-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvX76ClESYjVRulrszxu9jAEseXkg4TfQxlZRA3HeRCuGeRu6wJSNC_Iep7FuorpjJ8R-IZ_ZdDaeEePSvvDt4166sKO44-PZsu1s04RUdFPO6VnrO_A3N2FISsZcxX8Gi7dfEpSle-0Y/s1600/priorities.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvX76ClESYjVRulrszxu9jAEseXkg4TfQxlZRA3HeRCuGeRu6wJSNC_Iep7FuorpjJ8R-IZ_ZdDaeEePSvvDt4166sKO44-PZsu1s04RUdFPO6VnrO_A3N2FISsZcxX8Gi7dfEpSle-0Y/s320/priorities.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468147978688880802" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />LOOKING IT OVER.......<br /><br />I am taking the time, out of necessity and love for my sanity, to reevaluate my goals. I am the person who LOVES to do lots of stuff. I especially like to help folks out. I think it's common, especially in today's society, for people to feel overwhelmed, too extended and like there aren't enough hours in a day. I don't want to be a person who becomes cranky and unkind over life's demands. Life does have many demands, but so many times demands aren't coming from life, but those around you and how you perceive requests and demands.....<br /><br />As in one of my previous posts, I believe there are "seasons" in our lives, and I am trying to focus on what is important *now* in my life. I am also trying to come to grips with the fact I don't have to do everything anyone asks of me. I find myself fretting over what will happen if I turn them down. As if how well they "like" me depends on how much I do for them. This thought process has resulted in an overload. :-( Not good.<br /><br />After Handsome Hubby and I got married, it was in our hearts to have children and for me to stay at home and actually be a mother to them and for them to be raised with us in our home and not dropped at a sitter or daycare every day. This isn't a slur to anyone who lives their lives this way, but simply what we felt was right, and best for children in general. I also wanted my parents to be "Pappaw and Granny" and not a babysitter or in the responsibility mode for my children on a regular basis. So we decided I would stay home. SO many people interpret that as *not working*. (cough, snort) I would get (and still do get) phone calls with folks saying, "well, I had to work all day, or ________ (fill in the blank with person) had to work all day." An unspoken dig at the fact that I was "not working". Initially I would just get aggravated, then I decided, that they meant no harm and just tried to over look it. Thinking they perhaps thought being at home every day equaled what they do on the weekend on a daily basis. Their bad for making assumptions of what my days are like without any facts. My bad for letting it get under my skin.<br /><br />My purpose right now is faith, my family, and getting my kiddos through school. I am more than willing to help folks out along the way when I can, because I most certainly love to do that. I especially like helping the ones that don't ask for the help and those who are in great need of it.<br />However, Handsome Hubby, Sweet Son, and Dear Daughter have to be priority on my list. They are the ones God gave to me..,,<br /><br />So, obviously my Goal isn't to get rich, (one income and homeschooling kinda states that fact), nor is it fame, but just being a responsible, content person. Giving my children opportunities to strengthen them into adults that will be able to handle the pressures of life in a responsible way is very important to myself and Handsome Hubby. Being the best I can be for my family and taking the time when I can to help others along the way. *AND* not letting someone pull a guilt trip on me when I can't do what they are asking, wanting, needing or demanding. Maybe that's not a goal, perhaps it's just priority. I shall not grow weary in well doing, but I also shall not over extend myself to the point that my *responsibilities* are being left at the end of my to do list.<br /><br />What are your goals? Responsibilities? Are you letting someone "should" on you?? (you should do this, or you should do that?) Step back and take inventory...that's what I am trying to do...C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-6654248518177103282010-03-11T14:57:00.000-08:002010-03-11T15:19:57.122-08:00Summer Break???<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEjGgg5ZKCTfWwvUXXCYclOcb1UOEzbGU11ofdlXJlb_R2WDU3dv9pKcbHHYXsZ3eklhHZt-e6nkikDYQ9Yp-QWpkEeeH2ja0pa3d97KpM1yEjjMknpNPwavDaKtpgY8ZOTZv6nd62xt7/s1600-h/lemonade+stand.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEjGgg5ZKCTfWwvUXXCYclOcb1UOEzbGU11ofdlXJlb_R2WDU3dv9pKcbHHYXsZ3eklhHZt-e6nkikDYQ9Yp-QWpkEeeH2ja0pa3d97KpM1yEjjMknpNPwavDaKtpgY8ZOTZv6nd62xt7/s320/lemonade+stand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447519993189080802" border="0" /></a><br />We're all so excited to be winding down our "school year"here at the Hawkins' house. Our 175 "required" days are in or nearly in and we are focusing on finishing lessons, books, and going over concepts that we may have had trouble with. Our acheivement testing is finished, club meetings will end in May, Speech will wind up in a month or so, required literature has been read, final reports will soon be put in the kids' portfolios, we're finishing up our final History unit study, and we're ready to plant flowers!<br />ANNNDDD....<br />we're ready to hit the Summer learning season...I don't think I've met many homeschooling families who do the cold turkey thing in the summer....we take those few months to dig into more community service projects, life skills, science projects, SOKY fair entries, and working on more difficult math concepts. Still, it's a break from our normal book work. :-)<br /><br />I like to use those days to hone in on the life skills the kids need. Let them help pay the bills, make the deposits at the bank, grocery shop, change the oil, mow the yard, cook dinner, baby sit, and other things they will be sure to use in their lives ahead. While Sweet Son and Dear Daughter do some of these things on a regular basis, I think it's really fun to "dig deeper", like letting them plan a menu, make a grocery list, and give them a budget to do the shopping on. Sure, it takes much more time than if I just did that stuff myself, but the lessons are invaluable!<br /><br />We also look forward to some fun times, we like bonfires, bike rides, walks at Mammoth Cave, lemonade on the deck, yard sales, and the other three in my family also look forward to canoeing and fishing. :-)<br /><br />Looking forward to the warm weather and the changes it brings..........C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-90898001398114625742010-02-23T06:55:00.000-08:002010-02-23T07:38:14.650-08:00Home School, School at Home, Home at School, etc.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMo6LcixfGzZQxJ0FtvRI7TZEovndHhivxkwGWq3geBED4faacK_eUIqlYHHX86_24iZmgSHKpX0YFwrxlT3tddZCp8U635CTySbrV7CRYvXggjpfaV2Pec141T833xc0bBYqgWPXUYTEk/s1600-h/homeschool+cartoon.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMo6LcixfGzZQxJ0FtvRI7TZEovndHhivxkwGWq3geBED4faacK_eUIqlYHHX86_24iZmgSHKpX0YFwrxlT3tddZCp8U635CTySbrV7CRYvXggjpfaV2Pec141T833xc0bBYqgWPXUYTEk/s320/homeschool+cartoon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441453553044083938" border="0" /></a><br />Recently (and not so recently and in the future, I'm sure) I have been asked several (thousand, it seems) times , "How long are you going to homeschool?" The question is sometimes asked with genuine curiosity, other times with malice and doubt, but most of the times with an incredulous tone that smacks of "I can't believe you're doing this!". So, I am taking this post to address that question (because most of the time when I'm asked this question I don't give a legit answer). :-)<br /><br />Ok, out with the bad side of me first, typically when I'm asked this question I want to answer with something like...1.) I don't know, really, but probably until they break their shackles and escape. or 2.) As long as they like staying home with me and watching the soaps.<br />I *don't* give these answers, I *do* mentally roll my eyes and huff.<br /><br />When a family chooses to homeschool, for some reason, people assume liberties they might not otherwise take, or that I wouldn't take. I don't walk up to my church friends, acquaintances, etc and say, "Just exactly how long ARE you going to let your kid go to Public School?"<br /><br />The age old comments are things like, "I would kill my kids if we had to spend every day with them." "How do you get them to listen to you?" "You're lucky you have this opportunity." "I'm not smart enough." "My children and I clash too much to homeschool." "Don't you worry about socialization?" "What about prom (sports, clubs, school bus, classroom, etc)" Most people are asking because they are ready to *pounce* on our ultra conservative decisions and out of the main stream life style and aren't really looking for my (or anyone else's) feelings/opinions or thoughts. In the first three or so years, I struggled to defend our position. Now, I just let them ramble and talk, it's much less stressful and somewhat amusing.<br /><br />There is a certain person that I occasionally see that is bent on telling me what I need to do. I seriously doubt that she knows another homeschooling family as she was confused at the word "curriculum". I don't even know this person's name. This past week we had another run in with Lady-Knows-It-All. :-) We just let her talk. Perhaps she felt better after instructing me? <br /><br />Ok, so anyway, I sincerely don't know how long we're going to homeschool....that's the answer! I didn't know when I started 8 1/2 years ago, and I don't know today. I take it year by year. If you asked my children this question they would be quick to tell you they are going to homeschool all the way through high school. No doubt about it. But I don't know the future anymore than the next person. Quite honestly, when we first started I couldn't imagine, from the farthermost stretch of my imagination, that we would still be on this road as Sweet Son is finishing his 8th grade year. I was told I could never make it, that my kids would be backward and unsocialized, wouldn't be prepared for the "real world" and that I would "soon tire" and be ready to send my kids off to school for the day. I, being very young, and looking up to the older people had serious seeds of doubt in my mind. But I was driven by a desire that came from our faith, and my knowing there had to be a better way than to hand my young children over to the State for most of their waking hours. Many folks don't agree with that, but that's the fabulous thing about the United States, we have freedom of choice in so many ways. We aren't bound to one idea.<br /><br />Oh, and as for my kids being "unsocialized"....that's a hoot. That's all I'm going to say about that. :-)<br /><br />So, here's to the parents I know that lovingly, willingly, and whole -heartedly give their minutes, hours, days, months and years to schooling their children at home, in the community, and in environments that encourage faith, family, accountability and a love for learning. For those who plan every unit study, lead fieldtrips, girl scout troops, drive to team meets, spend hours pouring over curriculum choices, plan thousands of crafts, volunteer to teach, work in your community and surround their children, daily, with the love of family....all for the conviction and not the cash. THAT's Home (car, hotel, dr.'s office, grocery store, church, outdoor, museum, community, and just about anywhere you can imagine!) Schooling!C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-67746770155342766742010-01-26T17:52:00.001-08:002010-01-26T18:11:48.376-08:00For the LOVE of HANDSOME HUBBY....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYBr6n7dCAyr6jnfHsQ2fWvSyq1oiP9CS30-qezPCACmiTrI3_Y0nrcV4ZVynXMuIg0aoh08r5zUjBVeG20TXW9FnlDHno3hCQ3WfgD1eWrfhsOQM-NM57l0nek6q1AEwKlbNyb38wNnO/s1600-h/017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYBr6n7dCAyr6jnfHsQ2fWvSyq1oiP9CS30-qezPCACmiTrI3_Y0nrcV4ZVynXMuIg0aoh08r5zUjBVeG20TXW9FnlDHno3hCQ3WfgD1eWrfhsOQM-NM57l0nek6q1AEwKlbNyb38wNnO/s320/017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431231872188781618" border="0" /></a><br />It's time for another LOVE and MARRIAGE post! I adore hearing how husbands and wives show their devotion and love to each other. In the past month I've heard how one husband washes the dishes every time she cooks, of one hubby buying his wife a piano and the lessons to go with it, how one wife got *the ultimate* washer and dryer set she had been wanting for years...SWEET!<br />It's nifty when you can see the give and take of a strong relationship.<br />I'm a nut for the small things....which I suppose is a good thing, because the *large* things aren't an option in our life right now. I say this with no malice, as we are consciously making a decision to keep me home, with our children, homeschooling them. My own Handsome Hubby thrills my heart when he holds my hand, pats my back, kisses my cheek, gives me an understanding look at the right time, etc. One of the things I appreciate MOST about Handsome Hubby is that he doesn't *down* me in any way. To his friends, family, our kids...ANYONE. He's such a great guy. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE HIM!!!<br />You know what? I was accustomed to this. My wonderful parents showed the same kind of affection. I have NEVER heard my Dad speak down of my Mom to anyone, OR comment on how attractive he thinks another female is (unless it is of course his daughter (ME!) or his granddaughters.) My parents routinely kissed, held hands, sat close, etc. They STILL do.<br />I am an advocate for strong, faithful, Godly marriages. I am also an advocate of abandoning television for this simple reason. We are continuously throwing images of infidelity to our children, with a big green check mark beside it. ARGH. Corruption!!!<br />This isn't rocket science....it's just laziness and lack of self discipline....or something akin to it. Guys step up and be men...Women step down and be ladies.<br />I gladly embrace my feminine place in our life....For the love of Handsome Hubby!<br /><br />The pic above is of the heart Handsome Hubby "stomped out" for me...C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-51312104049236573862010-01-03T16:40:00.000-08:002010-01-03T17:25:31.125-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMJod_89GM4p8_qPOcQuwehSon7nSaQm8CLjZVCgvTia3G5L4hnBQi81-LMLkzhDZ5A4-JHKzynZdAvpDzLnpg-Sp4mRiyx7Cvt98gBfP2hCIddJt8EE_sVDSWCZp-iT5nV-bo6YFdITo/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMJod_89GM4p8_qPOcQuwehSon7nSaQm8CLjZVCgvTia3G5L4hnBQi81-LMLkzhDZ5A4-JHKzynZdAvpDzLnpg-Sp4mRiyx7Cvt98gBfP2hCIddJt8EE_sVDSWCZp-iT5nV-bo6YFdITo/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422685808003621074" border="0" /></a>Dear Daughter likes to dress up *Chester* who normally doesn't mind....<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzD8E-r7oP4LXB9hDo_y9WoMQbAdGWUBFE_Uu3pxzqWnGaaRD-R2Wkz7Ol917l-wAHEHqPzm642qfAUYmp1DUdUVbOUR7g17GzixgRmsYvHtlKXAmznupQ2Rc17uIV8jVUXmHoDMcAKz1/s1600-h/180.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzD8E-r7oP4LXB9hDo_y9WoMQbAdGWUBFE_Uu3pxzqWnGaaRD-R2Wkz7Ol917l-wAHEHqPzm642qfAUYmp1DUdUVbOUR7g17GzixgRmsYvHtlKXAmznupQ2Rc17uIV8jVUXmHoDMcAKz1/s320/180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422685558005163266" border="0" /></a>My Brother and his lovely wife....<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyWUuGQFWa-hfCH6nGnsmKROtE8Ambq0at3tWZ2b2yJWKgXZ9Ki8VRLvYb1zFGYJA5X4hVObmZTDUv03xJmYHqye0AFprsq-wlMsov7yXbMN8H9L9S9NS7rxMF6dtxwU9bdH3XXbGYHc0/s1600-h/165.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyWUuGQFWa-hfCH6nGnsmKROtE8Ambq0at3tWZ2b2yJWKgXZ9Ki8VRLvYb1zFGYJA5X4hVObmZTDUv03xJmYHqye0AFprsq-wlMsov7yXbMN8H9L9S9NS7rxMF6dtxwU9bdH3XXbGYHc0/s320/165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422685308459699730" border="0" /></a>Dear Daughter with her stuffed monkey from Grandad and Grandma....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEB3i0bEW-yzjIrQcum0_w0R5qH-uTatbpROwXJzq5bXZWy_kcKWfToRY8WR66clJHDifxEYId3v-1er154kgFzRYrug1YRV_vBdbdYbTKu6rkme-oLGSzRJMwdwZNvSMJDpMjNWjb1W1o/s1600-h/173.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEB3i0bEW-yzjIrQcum0_w0R5qH-uTatbpROwXJzq5bXZWy_kcKWfToRY8WR66clJHDifxEYId3v-1er154kgFzRYrug1YRV_vBdbdYbTKu6rkme-oLGSzRJMwdwZNvSMJDpMjNWjb1W1o/s320/173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422684976061831394" border="0" /></a>Sweet Son and Adorable Nephew.....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5APPIbpws5YvT9JOKuaSjDw6U_nAm4uLVHgfbB9xHllWhzM7fm9dzynRHDFVO56KtQsM7B6DYTfCJaVsel2c6eMympjyukMhrLBFFcVL6STBtq3uzf_2UbPEvgsAXnFrYU1cUDLlACbX/s1600-h/112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5APPIbpws5YvT9JOKuaSjDw6U_nAm4uLVHgfbB9xHllWhzM7fm9dzynRHDFVO56KtQsM7B6DYTfCJaVsel2c6eMympjyukMhrLBFFcVL6STBtq3uzf_2UbPEvgsAXnFrYU1cUDLlACbX/s320/112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422684718256792626" border="0" /></a>Handsome Hubby....with his *SANTA* gifts. Hershey's and Coke replace cookies and milk this year...<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHzcJX3i2tC8Y9lmnbYH6sfSfLXpqHFxlghMF2QAcgiVcvQAiWqLNXh47jFFnc72xAdY6KPlD06irhHzaYsFRqnqqoOZKerCkSKRV8jkhxwIwcbiTJgsBc7smHQZ431mTVwsO9qhtEpYo/s1600-h/178.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHzcJX3i2tC8Y9lmnbYH6sfSfLXpqHFxlghMF2QAcgiVcvQAiWqLNXh47jFFnc72xAdY6KPlD06irhHzaYsFRqnqqoOZKerCkSKRV8jkhxwIwcbiTJgsBc7smHQZ431mTVwsO9qhtEpYo/s320/178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422684320176260082" border="0" /></a>My Wonderful Mama and Adorable Nephew.....they love each other much....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiet4PPKdcMDx2HXiSmrIwgCt5pqCE0aLurlSkuc3r6_rg2qRkgu590AF7eSw0TdNDday7BBRwZH5LCbFES70Df5rbyRaUVoUWSt3iKVzZ6Ertva-Migo3sBDtGp_3r4zPPqhfbfJQYw33Z/s1600-h/077.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiet4PPKdcMDx2HXiSmrIwgCt5pqCE0aLurlSkuc3r6_rg2qRkgu590AF7eSw0TdNDday7BBRwZH5LCbFES70Df5rbyRaUVoUWSt3iKVzZ6Ertva-Migo3sBDtGp_3r4zPPqhfbfJQYw33Z/s320/077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422684007319431250" border="0" /></a>Another pic of Adorable Nephew and my Brother...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHI7lhaYpPMoQZTXlmVPb7ZNgJrHjLzU_4kF9PsFluL9RNFaThQV-mI3eu_TPUsIO0QkoeZspHelK3QC9vQLtoYuoW4JzRSSuVpdOPaiiTkLxATgJ2gtmbDfIGGSE505l0UwCzMQWXeu9M/s1600-h/062.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHI7lhaYpPMoQZTXlmVPb7ZNgJrHjLzU_4kF9PsFluL9RNFaThQV-mI3eu_TPUsIO0QkoeZspHelK3QC9vQLtoYuoW4JzRSSuVpdOPaiiTkLxATgJ2gtmbDfIGGSE505l0UwCzMQWXeu9M/s320/062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422683726967481362" border="0" /></a>Neat Drama Class I sat in on at the Kentucky High School Drama Festival...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzpp2c1-hZxbllAvRhn37aI4KFUK-pplE-vP9afPgMtEMd1La-_0U1_msLm88vzBBZKSoljFDlGt4ERj230-8RA05Er1VpET5bZHAASnSWOidli3DOQ4qOyHdPShbr_nowP4QbF0xhBp5/s1600-h/053.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzpp2c1-hZxbllAvRhn37aI4KFUK-pplE-vP9afPgMtEMd1La-_0U1_msLm88vzBBZKSoljFDlGt4ERj230-8RA05Er1VpET5bZHAASnSWOidli3DOQ4qOyHdPShbr_nowP4QbF0xhBp5/s320/053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422683454617165250" border="0" /></a>Kids hanging out at WKU while I was judging the Drama Festival....<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8i7zBeu85ACoDKuIvIVEXrxPEJlA56RxgdzDmjbg9YDiQ-2I3hUMqskvvwW2n5y-G3AhhVtcSgp-YfJTUMGLsHNmWe2cBBQM-fpXF4dSK83B_Iior5YE1u1Rm_qjaIV-DxQpYDnKJEJc/s1600-h/048.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8i7zBeu85ACoDKuIvIVEXrxPEJlA56RxgdzDmjbg9YDiQ-2I3hUMqskvvwW2n5y-G3AhhVtcSgp-YfJTUMGLsHNmWe2cBBQM-fpXF4dSK83B_Iior5YE1u1Rm_qjaIV-DxQpYDnKJEJc/s320/048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422682884304447314" border="0" /></a>Us girls all dressed up...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmaEq8kK_Vhp7GBZnkYJ7Y0pdwHcMI7NpgNTL0Qc_lxvy6umSTj7ILrGZz8XAwYoW3EpnqtUeYzmMr4c85kKdbl3EXNvG7knxZDC-pngqRlBySMpflZSnPJdwjNBLC6ZlPupiejoVPyzlc/s1600-h/047.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmaEq8kK_Vhp7GBZnkYJ7Y0pdwHcMI7NpgNTL0Qc_lxvy6umSTj7ILrGZz8XAwYoW3EpnqtUeYzmMr4c85kKdbl3EXNvG7knxZDC-pngqRlBySMpflZSnPJdwjNBLC6ZlPupiejoVPyzlc/s320/047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422682606704873410" border="0" /></a>One of life's greatest blessings.....my kiddos....<br /><br />NOTE: My Dear Daddy almost always makes an appearance on my blog pics, however, I couldn't find a Christmas pic where Daddy's eyes wasn't closed.... (unintentionally or otherwise) LOL<br /><br />We're gearing up for the winding down ....thought I better post a few pics of our December events before we got busy on the next semester of school.<br />This Christmas we spent a lot of time with my parents and my brother, his wife, and their son. It has been so fun...kind of glad to see all of the running subside, though<br />Usually in January and February, I get way burned out with homeschooling...I'm tired, it' s cold, I'm wanting to do inside projects, etc....but we've come this far....<br />Sweet Son is doing most of his glasses with KY Virtual Online High School...so not as much planning for him. He has a lot of work to do with his SKY academy (WKU speech team)..<br />I still teach and plan all of Julia's work at this point. She is *so* fun to teach. <br />I honestly figured at least one of my children would want to go to public school by this time in their lives. Neither do....so onward we go.<br />I am looking forward to spring events......I am trying to get my house cleaned "out" and "up"...<br />Blessings to all for a wonderful new year!<br />BethC.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-46154764873573088362009-12-10T18:24:00.000-08:002009-12-10T19:06:37.155-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ztnxOOClQwfSPHvulBgjU4BWPkE-gaOTb1VczhDql3oiW0KwObVqkFw7GgOhyphenhyphenbBkS3o4wenLmEmjl6WLfGZTTIc4dHIPI-VJe06L2EO2k8J6WsxrcPxBhoICehP_b2MyU9Me5956C6TS/s1600-h/homeless-man.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 261px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ztnxOOClQwfSPHvulBgjU4BWPkE-gaOTb1VczhDql3oiW0KwObVqkFw7GgOhyphenhyphenbBkS3o4wenLmEmjl6WLfGZTTIc4dHIPI-VJe06L2EO2k8J6WsxrcPxBhoICehP_b2MyU9Me5956C6TS/s320/homeless-man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413800757859371954" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">What Meets the Eye is not always What is in the Heart.....</span></span><br /><br />I hesitated even putting up this post right now....given the "holiday season" It's kind of natural to lean toward "good will" thinking and gestures. However, the story I have to tell is not one that happened to the tune of the salvation army bell, to the back drop of falling snow, or even a cold month of the year. It was a warm day in May, not too long ago....<br /><br />Let me start with the fact that I was raised in a household that taught accountability. You paid your bills, took care of your family, you didn't shop at Good Will, didn't participate in the reduced lunch program, didn't get medical cards, food stamps....you get the picture. My folks aren't snobs...they just believed in making your own way and not "copping out". (for the record, I *love* the Good Will store, this was just an issue with my Daddy)<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Soooo</span>....I kind of had this preconceived notion of some things that I wasn't accustomed to.<br /><br />So anyway, I was driving to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Wal</span>-mart with my kids when as I was turning in, there sit a guy, with a dog, holding a sign that said : VERY HUNGRY, PLEASE HELP...ALSO NEED WORK.<br />This wasn't a new sight, nor was it surprising.....and my first reaction was "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ewww</span>". He looked like he needed a bath, and was outright asking for something. Now, I didn't say this out loud, but I *did* think it. My kids said, "Poor Man"...I said, "Yes, poor guy." But I was thinking, "maybe you should get rid of the dog, take a bath, and try to look presentable." I turned in the parking spot and went in. With each step I took, the feeling of dread in my heart grew. I was sick. I was told in my heart, by that still, small voice that I know well, that I *knew* nothing. I felt with a certainty that I would not make it home safely if I didn't take the man some food. I could list a million reasons why I didn't feel like I needed to give this man something 1.) our budget is *really* tight with Handsome Hubby's pay cut and he is out there daily working hard for not much 2.) Shouldn't that guy be "in action" trying to be productive in finding employment.....etc.<br />But anyway, I bought some things that had a long shelf life and took them out to him.<br />I don't *know* if he was legit, I don't *know* that he ate the food (he could have fed it to the dog?)...but I *do know* that I am answering to a higher power and *HE* will get my attention and if I want to keep my lines of communication open with *HIM* I will do his bidding. (Whether I can *figure out* the issue or not, this seems to be a problem with my analytical mind).<br /><br />The point is I don't know everything, even what meets my eye does not scratch the surface. I am trying diligently to keep this in mind. There are things I will never understand. Recently while taking Dear Daughter for her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Vandy</span> checkup, I watched parents with terminally ill children. I read names on a memorial for pediatric cancer victims....Am I *better* than those people? NO.<br />I have always considered it a blessing to have healthy children. But am I "blessed" because I am better, harder praying, more deserving than the parent who just buried their child. Absolutely not. So I am considering my words.....<br />I recently commented on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">someone's</span> home saying it was "lovely".....and it was, very nice interior and exterior, nice furniture, up to date everything. Parked outside were nice cars, and they went on a long vacation a few months prior. I was answered with , "Yes, we are blessed." <br />Sometimes it sounds like "Blessed" is tantamount to wealth, health, and "stuff". <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Hmmmm</span>.....<br /><br />I'm a firm believer that "hard times" (in whatever form) will come to us all....and that it is best to show empathy, offer genuine prayers, and reach out...no matter what you consider "a blessing"...<br /><br />My opinion (and it's only that) is that it's a blessing, a privilege, an honor to be able to worship in freedom, call upon *Him* without fear, and trust in Him, my God, in the times that are troubled as well as the times that are peaceful. <br />I was once told you don't get the burdens you deserve, but those you can carry. I know some mighty strong people, whom many wouldn't consider "blessed"...but their strength is amazing, their grace is encouraging, their walk with God ..inspiring.....<br />*Blessed* is truly in the heart of the beholder....and it's not always what meets the eye that reflects what lays in the heart.C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-72203295677690748022009-11-29T13:32:00.001-08:002009-11-29T14:23:48.472-08:00DIFFERENT<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKGboKDz1iZMIIfLo7zxWWn32IemY5_Mkik_ngcqelbmjp3XrTW_9Sct6HqXtPejIZSkQsv5ja8Nu0G0oQ0Idz0s3TQcJg38aEwwzDXQtAwiUIYJdmIGcNUUwkU1Fl1U5rCMdWVYMOpfgx/s1600/043.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKGboKDz1iZMIIfLo7zxWWn32IemY5_Mkik_ngcqelbmjp3XrTW_9Sct6HqXtPejIZSkQsv5ja8Nu0G0oQ0Idz0s3TQcJg38aEwwzDXQtAwiUIYJdmIGcNUUwkU1Fl1U5rCMdWVYMOpfgx/s320/043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409649172798192594" border="0" /></a>Pic above: We love to see innovative amish ideas and ways. Kid's liked that this guy was hauling his wheel barrow on top of his buggy in heavy traffic.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZzX2mTgsuFM8oHq67Fis2DbnFMv4BzY7zYAw-wj_qpFGH_hk44YlR47W64uu7c6fqIqYItVQxlVTr7aAtDgNBYNe9otZsWj3cK-GaIcYnpwR11B5H7yxKQ0eeBT6k_TAbdD5EwskFyLZ/s1600/015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZzX2mTgsuFM8oHq67Fis2DbnFMv4BzY7zYAw-wj_qpFGH_hk44YlR47W64uu7c6fqIqYItVQxlVTr7aAtDgNBYNe9otZsWj3cK-GaIcYnpwR11B5H7yxKQ0eeBT6k_TAbdD5EwskFyLZ/s320/015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409648791704593538" border="0" /></a>Pic Above: Sweet Son and Dear Daughter at the Homeschool Fall Festival<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcOu_CT1vpBjeCjQRrGaxVSjmCjNtzFr4ze5ZPBsBn2E_8DvHaBu5DFBHVywJbNiaMim3xoGrH_-qIch0T3UKMBKjn0zao_fzcj87gSs-2sBdfy6enTiFtmO4yfIJeHslfzQwZbmQQLQwx/s1600/012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcOu_CT1vpBjeCjQRrGaxVSjmCjNtzFr4ze5ZPBsBn2E_8DvHaBu5DFBHVywJbNiaMim3xoGrH_-qIch0T3UKMBKjn0zao_fzcj87gSs-2sBdfy6enTiFtmO4yfIJeHslfzQwZbmQQLQwx/s320/012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409648398665581186" border="0" /></a>Pic Above: Face painting for Dear Daughter!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxjjL402vpacgYuHT9WrjpbN2A7tkelQB1PILmwtpJ11Shyphenhyphen3RzNUB_BX4hW9zswu3hX3OaqxyNcPEv1vdABMYI5354T5FzYiru6Labs-OvXSVE8C2E9ghOIEVqRKUagx7zlgX_XPfYRPO2/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxjjL402vpacgYuHT9WrjpbN2A7tkelQB1PILmwtpJ11Shyphenhyphen3RzNUB_BX4hW9zswu3hX3OaqxyNcPEv1vdABMYI5354T5FzYiru6Labs-OvXSVE8C2E9ghOIEVqRKUagx7zlgX_XPfYRPO2/s320/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409648105551076562" border="0" /></a>Pic Above: Field trip to Humane Society. My lovely, multi-faceted, pioneering friend is the host.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikIWlHMjGvvCbuxrUeb2TyAr_Qt4Vh1o29JfqAQX9ecVVFXJSddvWakQrp0mUgOn9eWlWIwZ0-hzEy8yQvNWU1v0KpCnmtP6_vwDIm12DJLHMuuexP45G_i8SZglA-2sUP28y1viOc_P09/s1600/076.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikIWlHMjGvvCbuxrUeb2TyAr_Qt4Vh1o29JfqAQX9ecVVFXJSddvWakQrp0mUgOn9eWlWIwZ0-hzEy8yQvNWU1v0KpCnmtP6_vwDIm12DJLHMuuexP45G_i8SZglA-2sUP28y1viOc_P09/s320/076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409647654623746690" border="0" /></a>Pic Above: Live Native American Village! What fun!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WMQ78Uue192A8VSfYmel6Zx7UUJcITPCBp3BTUfKTBrD3cx-QgRFloF0JDiSn0cRzd3jT-P6PjSOetIHJrOQE1ic-mecmEiWG-Hmr4FtMJTx0GpKleLwAFL8M83sKLCwgW_4y_AVB_tV/s1600/099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WMQ78Uue192A8VSfYmel6Zx7UUJcITPCBp3BTUfKTBrD3cx-QgRFloF0JDiSn0cRzd3jT-P6PjSOetIHJrOQE1ic-mecmEiWG-Hmr4FtMJTx0GpKleLwAFL8M83sKLCwgW_4y_AVB_tV/s320/099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409647204685890338" border="0" /></a>Pic Above: Joking around with Sweet Son in the Dollar Tree (burning time between Tues. Classes)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb7BpHlIK9T7tzwqtK-BJd2b3t1OWJXMwoP8aLHyPMDLNB5qH-sLdwk8Xrq2xIges0WyJCnKTSLTFG3UsR3n1ppPS3n4a7xYGALmKXQ_IDnWR8x7m1jgwJ4dTNAYa6G22CX-9OINDAR2bE/s1600/040.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb7BpHlIK9T7tzwqtK-BJd2b3t1OWJXMwoP8aLHyPMDLNB5qH-sLdwk8Xrq2xIges0WyJCnKTSLTFG3UsR3n1ppPS3n4a7xYGALmKXQ_IDnWR8x7m1jgwJ4dTNAYa6G22CX-9OINDAR2bE/s320/040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409646794479182690" border="0" /></a>Pic Above: Dear Daughter getting some much needed assurance and love from Handsome Hubby at her latest Vandy visit.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmWJPp2I7APhEdiyOvB6mkOnNOv31IIuP6hLjFvnTSZL09lf9leOzE2NPjn9xYoYEsOH_VkxUYmeLWaujoZxxGpqrzimw6E9XI3L5OMcj9bNsb2PZYHw66j9UkCRd9LbjjY7MV4i4t99v/s1600/128.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmWJPp2I7APhEdiyOvB6mkOnNOv31IIuP6hLjFvnTSZL09lf9leOzE2NPjn9xYoYEsOH_VkxUYmeLWaujoZxxGpqrzimw6E9XI3L5OMcj9bNsb2PZYHw66j9UkCRd9LbjjY7MV4i4t99v/s320/128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409646107655322850" border="0" /></a>Pic Above: Me and Dear Daughter after our "make-overs" courtesy of FB friend.<br /><br /><br />I am *so* thankful for my family. I am also thankful for the opportunities that have been provided to me in my everyday life. The moments above are brought to you courtesy of today's sponsor: HOMESCHOOLING. :-)<br />Seriously, at least half of the great moments I have had with my kiddos are within the 8 or 9 hours they would have otherwise been away from me. (Which by the way is one of the main reasons we even looked in to homeschooling, seemed *odd* that we should hand over our kids to be raised and educated by the state the majority of their waking hours).<br />I will usually go out of my way to not *stand out*. I don't like attention being drawn to me...but when you are different, in whatever way, you get attention you may not really want.<br />There's one little girl that asks my daughter every time she sees her.."So, are dresses all you ever wear." Dear Daughter says sweetly, "yes." I tell her to say, " not much has changed since last week, yep, still wearing dresses." LOL I remember this from my school days....some people just can't help themselves. If someone is all the time commenting on your "difference" it either: 1.) bugs them in some way 2.) makes them ashamed or 3.) they have early onset dementia. "<br />When my children were toddlers, I had friends who would shake their heads at me as I encouraged my kids to breathe onto the window pane then "write" their name on it, they would scoff as I cleared out our small kitchen and pulled out the finger paints. I think there was possibly some heart failure when we started to homeschool. We still run a *different* household. Dear Daughter still raids the pantry for canned goods she hauls into the living room, sets up on my ironing board, and plays grocery check out. One year our expectant cat provided a several week study of gestation in animals, the culmination being watching her birth the kittens. Earlier this year my hysterectomy provided another learning experience, kids accompanied me to the Dr. each time, and went over the literature and procedure outlines with me. Many trips have been made to the pond to collect, study and set free. We have ate dinner, cleared the table then dissected a pregnant fish where our plates just set... etc. etc. Homeschooling is truly a different lifestyle. Spending 24/7 with your children, and they with you, is an amazing experience......<br /><br />So, different we are, and, I'm assuming, different we'll stay. Both Sweet Son and Dear Daughter express their desire to continue to be homeschooled. There are a few down sides to homeschooling, like my carpet getting much more wear and tear, hey, the whole house gets more wear and tear. My kitchen is continually used as a lab, I have a busted place on our counter from a coconut experiment, I'm in extreme need of updated kitchen cabinets, my oak table has years of handwriting worn into it, my car interior is shot from all the living in it, We don't have as much *stuff* because our extra money usually goes toward another class, more books, or something of the sort, and there's an extreme lack of privacy.<br />Such a small price to pay for the gain. :-)C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-52384354311833384062009-11-13T09:30:00.000-08:002009-11-13T09:30:02.180-08:00Message<a href="http://webmail.windstream.net/do/mail/message/send?l=en-US&v=windstream">Message</a>CHRISTMAS CANDY TRAYS<br />2009<br />This year’s candy trays will include the following candies: buckeyes, coconut bonbons, cookie dough truffles, fudge, peanut butter fudge, Tiger butter, chocolate oatmeal drops and of course some novelty items to dress up the tray. (Novelty items could include dipped pretzels, Santa or snowman faces). All of the candy is made with quality ingredients. Trays come festively wrapped with bow, personalized gift card, and an ornament. If you want your tray to be delivered to the recipient (someone other than yourself in Bowling Green or Brownsville only) there will be an additional $5.00 charge) Please call or email if you have any questions. 597-8060 or <a href="mailto:chawkins2007@windstream.net">chawkins2007@windstream.net</a> Merry Christmas!!!<br />Large (size has been increased since last year) has 120-135 pieces of candy (not including novelty items) $78.00<br />Medium: Have 65-75 pieces of candy (not including novelty items) $39.50<br />Small: has 35-45 pieces of candy (not including the novelty items) 21.50<br />Specialty orders: A specialty order consists of 35-40 pieces of one specific candy. These orders come in a holiday tin with a bow and gift card. $17.50<br />ORDER DEADLINE: NOV. 25 DELIVERY DATES: DEC 4,7,8,AND/OR 9C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1422844981111936170.post-44623878156260247732009-11-09T19:13:00.000-08:002009-11-09T19:32:46.064-08:0015 YEARS OF WEDDED BLISS....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAciGXZj-iQ4D1P1qxYM5p81linyBdTn9wi1Hqv3QPyq9owvb581lwohSbrOo4DE-OQVK1rQn7Ksjf_9CNf7M4EQ1zz655711D8NgQ1n7KDVIxC6OUNj81hrd7udzW5R6Xzzm3d3rTAS-/s1600-h/Scan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAciGXZj-iQ4D1P1qxYM5p81linyBdTn9wi1Hqv3QPyq9owvb581lwohSbrOo4DE-OQVK1rQn7Ksjf_9CNf7M4EQ1zz655711D8NgQ1n7KDVIxC6OUNj81hrd7udzW5R6Xzzm3d3rTAS-/s320/Scan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402308842695225714" border="0" /></a><br />Oh my goodness! We are getting ready to celebrate our 15th Wedding Anniversary....WOW..<br />Can't believe it's passed this fast! The picture above is of our wedding night....I was 17 (and not even a half) and Handsome Hubby was 19! ****and*** we're still married. :-)<br />We, like most couples, have had some struggles, but for those of you who read my blog or Face Book page know I'm hopelessly in love with my guy, and that he's a super sweet gentleman...a pick me flowers on the road side guy, a rub my feet with lotion guy, a work two jobs so I don't have to guy, a put up with my animals guy, a grill me Greek chicken guy, a send me roses when I'm blue guy, a never yell at me guy, my husband!<br />Not even a year after this picture was taken, we lost our first baby in a late term miscarriage...it was a struggle and that year and the year following was the hard times in our marriage. That loss and the one after was hard, and we were incredibly young.<br />Now we are "young" parents of an "almost teenager" and a 10 year old. Living a life of homeschooling/working chaos. Well sorta, we *make* time for each other....we love to hang out together with our kids. We laugh, play scrabble, watch old Andy Griffith reruns, color, throw ball, take walks, bike rides, camp out in the living room floor, etc. etc. It's fun!<br />Our kids groan now when Handsome hubby smacks my rear. They roll their eyes when we sit on the couch and kiss. But they know we love each other. :-) It's a joke at our house....and we've threatened their lives with certain goings on!<br />I am *so* happy and blessed to have such a great family....Jarrod is the head of our household and more than willing to be his help meet. <br /><br />So now that I'm 32 I see a lot of things differently. I wish I hadn't faulted my in-laws on petty issues that don't matter. I wish had been kinder to my folks, strangers, neighbors....<br />Some things just don't matter. Handsome Hubby, at 34, sees things differently too. However, one thing has remained constant....our love...the only thing that has changed there is the depth!C.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18132571130949309810noreply@blogger.com2