tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75384220622532449332024-03-12T19:24:53.640-04:00My RamblingsSo I got rid of my pen and paper journal in favor of this...let's face it, it's easier and quicker.Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.comBlogger371125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-13412453716864212132019-05-18T10:39:00.003-04:002019-05-18T10:39:53.642-04:00The Day We Moved<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
I had a strong desire to move right after we experienced a home invasion in 2016. The Lord soon calmed my heart and I was content to stay if that’s what was meant for us. But I also wanted to move to get closer and more central to places and activities for myself and my girls. I always said that if we ended up moving, if God moved us (because I was convinced it would have to include supernatural intervention), then I would have to share how He worked it all out. So here goes:</div>
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A year ago today, we moved into our new home. In December of 2017, our current house went under contract; but with a different buyer. We had no idea it existed then. The buyer evidently backed out on closing day. Afterwards, the house wasn’t removed and re-listed but had a status change so we were told it was a bit of a “ghost” house; meaning, those who may have been interested prior wouldn’t really be aware it was available again. </div>
<br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Our buying this house was contingent on us selling our other house. And that was in serious jeopardy at one point. I had to continuously remind myself that if this wasn’t the house meant for us, there was nothing I could do about it. We had previously seen houses for sale we thought would be perfect for our family only to see them sell before we had a chance to move forward so this was a familiar place but still not easy. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Interestingly enough, when we first saw this house, neither of us thought it would become our home. There were things we liked and things we didn’t. I think because we built our first home, it was hard for me to overlook things that could be changed - plus I’m extremely bad at picturing things without seeing them as a finished product. A few days after we saw this house for the first time, I prayed that God would lead through Septtro. I was in my third trimester of pregnancy, homeschooling, packing and constantly on the phone trying to understand all the nuts and bolts of what a move takes and I just felt like I needed to take a step back. </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Five days after I prayed that, Septtro said there was a house he kept thinking about. I asked which one and he said it was the one we just saw several days prior. I asked if he wanted to see it again. He said yes. There weren’t many houses we saw more than once so this was a fairly serious thing for us. The day we went to look again, we also looked at another house for sale in the same neighborhood. The differences in the houses seemed to make Septtro more confident to put an offer in on this house. It was priced well. It had a lot of what we were looking for and left room to make it our own. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I must admit, when he talked about making an offer - as much as I wanted to move - I was nervous. The finality of that step seemed so scary. What if this wasn’t the right house? What if this was all a mistake? But I couldn’t exactly trust my emotions at that point in time. I knew I’d wanted to move for a couple years but here it was and I guess that change just felt a little scary.</span><br />
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We closed on both houses the same morning. Everything went very smoothly. And as we moved into our new home, it felt comfortable - like we were meant to be here. I soon found out that many of our neighbors, next door and across the street, I either knew through mutual friends of mine or had known years ago. We even realized more than one of our neighbors also homeschooled. To me, it was confirmation that we were right where we were supposed to be. </div>
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I’m so thankful to God for bringing this house to us. And I’m thankful to my husband for being willing to move. I know he loved our first home but as he said to me recently, he “loved me more than that house”. :) Bringing us together and united on, not only moving but also where we moved, was only God’s doing. About a week and a half after we moved, we brought our fifth daughter home to this house. We have since made new memories here and my hope and prayer is that there will be many more to come!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-49430340308015394982018-09-30T17:05:00.001-04:002018-09-30T17:05:09.649-04:00An early surprise - Josie's birth story<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well it's been a while since I've last blogged. Funny how my last post was about the uncertainty of having another baby. Obviously, I was open to having more after my fourth. And now I can't really imagine life without her. Here's her story:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We had just moved into our new house a week and a half prior. I had two appointments on Tuesday, May 29th - chiropractor appointment (which I've never done during pregnancy before but found out my insurance would cover 6 visits) and my midwife appointment. Both went well. At the chiropractor, he did some pressure points for the first time. I was still 9 days away from my estimated due date - which I have always gone past previously - so I wasn't too hopeful. The midwife appointment went well. I was measuring much larger that week but that wasn't too abnormal for me either.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On the way home, I mentioned to Septtro that maybe we should go out that evening. His brother was in town and it may be one of the last chances we got. But we didn't end up going out - I figured we would have a few other nights to choose from.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Early Wednesday morning (around 2am) May 30th, I woke up feeling like I was leaking fluid. I rushed to the bathroom, and, sure enough, my water had broken. This happened with my second baby and labor got pretty intense very quickly so that's what I expected. We called the midwife and she told us to try to rest and call if nothing had picked up after 12 hours. I didn't think I'd be able to rest because of my previous experience with my water breaking. Plus, I was sort of in shock as neither of us expected her to come this early. Septtro started packing both of our hospital bags. We got some towels and water proof pads on the bed and laid down. I sent my mom a text instead of calling since it was ok if she didn't come right away. I also sent a few other friends a text knowing they may not see it right away but would later on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A couple hours passed and nothing was really happening - except for me leaking more fluid. After a while, Septtro and I both dozed off for a bit. I sent my mom another update around 5am telling her to come whenever she was able to. She arrived at the house a bit after 6am.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was able to communicate to a couple friends to take my older girls. My mom was planning to come to the birth this time so we had to find alternative child care for the others. We split them up - Eliza (the two year old) went with one friend while the others could go with another. I had invited my older two girls to come to the birth as well. At first they both said no but then Kaylee said she wanted to be there. I figured when her friend's mom came to pick up her sisters, she would change her mind. But to my surprise, she didn't. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At one point, my mom took my girls back to her house and did their hair and changed her shirt since things weren't progressing very quickly. My brother in law went out to run some errands. I cannot remember where Septtro was. But I was alone in my room just briefly. I began thinking about Eliza being gone and became a bit emotional. I somehow just felt very alone and then I suppose mourned my youngest child's last few hours as the baby. I wondered how she was doing - what she was doing - and nervous about what she would do when she realized what had happened while she was gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I noticed my contractions would pick up if I stood up and moved around. Around 11am they were starting to pick up a bit. We called the midwife again and she said go to ahead and walk around. I wasn't quite sure how to do that when my water was still leaking every now and then. So Septtro grabbed his <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lavalava" target="_blank">lavalava</a> and I put on bathing suit bottoms and we headed outside.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We walked up and down our road. I was walking very slowly as contractions began to really pick up at that point. I asked my mom to get Kaylee some lunch as Septtro and I talked about whether or not to leave for the hospital. I was afraid of waiting too long as my birth start to finish with my last baby was only four hours. And I planned to use the tub again and have a water birth so I knew that would be helpful to deal with the pain. A bit after noon, we left for the hospital. (FYI - he's timing my contractions in the pictures, not playing on his phone) :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When we got to the hospital, we went to triage and met the midwife. My mom came in soon after as well as my good friend, Dana. Things were still fairly tolerable at that point. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The midwife came in to test to be sure it was my water that had broken. I knew for sure it was - but I know they have to be sure as well. She confirmed it and said I was about 3 cm - which I was prepared to hear since I knew with my other broken water labor, things seem more intense at times when they're not because that cushion of water is no longer there. My last two labors, I was 8 cm by the time I was at the hospital so I began giving myself a pep talk about how long it would take before I could meet my new daughter. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was told I wouldn't be taken to a tub room yet because I wasn't too far dilated. I didn't think too much of that. So we got to the room and they wanted 20 minutes of monitoring the baby's heart rate and my contractions before they would let me get up and move around. This wasn't new as I'd done it with my previous two labors (I was with the same provider for my previous two girls births). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Septtro began writing a list of girl names on the whiteboard in the room as my labor, especially when I was laying down in the bed, still wasn't too difficult. I had just told a friend the night before that we went to the hospital without a name for our second daughter and we thought of one an hour before we were discharged and I didn't want to do that again. :) I was having a fair amount of contractions at that point but could manage them fairly well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Soon, I realized I'd been in the bed a while. I asked about when I could get up. The nurse told me they just needed to see something specific from the baby and as soon as they did, I could get out of the bed to labor. I'm not certain, but I think I was in that bed over an hour trying to get them their textbook readings. They finally decided to let me stand right by the bed but when I did, they would lose the heart rate on the baby. At one point, it read around 99 and the midwife kind of had a freak out moment. She called the attending physician, who didn't seem too concerned once she got there. Likely, the monitor was picking up my heart rate and not the baby's. Those round, hard, plastic monitors are certainly not meant for women with big, round bellies - much less women who get up and move around during labor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was asked to lie back down on the bed so the midwife could get a more continuous read on the heart rate. Every time they picked it up, it was around 140 which is fine - but I could tell she was extremely focused on having it at all times. I think because it read 99 at one point, she just couldn't get it out of her head that it could have been a decel with the baby. **If I wasn't a vbac, continuous monitoring wouldn't have been required...even though I'd already had three previous successful abacus without issue but that's a whole other post...haha!**</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At one point, I looked up and noticed I'd been hooked up to continuous IV fluids - something I'd specifically asked to avoid in my birth plan. Apparently, they had done that without even telling me when they saw the heart rate at 99 (which, again, was probably mine and not the baby's). I was not pleased and asked for the to disconnect me immediately but it took a little longer before they actually did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">They still hadn't gotten their 20 minutes of monitoring the way they desired. They said they needed to see the baby's heart rate go up and back down twice in 20 minutes with a contraction. My baby's had done it just once so that wasn't good enough. They let me labor a bit standing up with Septtro - he mentioned walking the halls but I preferred not to have that big of an audience so we stayed in the room.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I asked about getting in the tub. I knew they wouldn't let you until you were in more active labor as it can slow down progress. The midwife basically told me she could check me, but even if I was further along in labor, I would not be getting a tub because my baby didn't "pass" the 20 minute monitoring. I was super annoyed to hear that. And honestly, they had trouble getting that when I was in labor with Eliza, but I was allowed in the tub (different midwife - perhaps that was the difference). Those monitors were in and out with the baby's heart rate with my labor with Logann too but it was never made out to be a huge issue like it was for this labor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was told I could labor in the shower so I did. The midwife was still very concerned about getting continuous heart tones on the baby. I sat on the exercise ball in the hot shower and it felt really good and I was trying to work through my contractions! Yet, there was the midwife hovering over me, pressing the monitor on my lower belly while my friend Dana ran over to let her know what the heart rate was...it was just ridiculous. The midwife then told me she hadn't gotten heart tones for a few minutes so she needed me to go back to the bed and lie down again. If I had been in my right mind, I would have told her no. But no laboring woman is in their right mind. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So I made my way back to the bed. I can remember the intensity picking up a lot and all I could do while lying on the bed to help relieve the pain was constantly move my legs. Septtro was by my side the entire time, helping me stay in control of my breathing and not tensing up. The midwife was also right there, once again, pressing the monitor against my belly. I was able to get out "stop pushing" to her because it was so uncomfortable but all she heard was "pushing" so she started getting everything ready. And as soon as I was able again, I said loudly "no, you! stop pushing!" She and the nurses sort of laughed a bit but it didn't really stop her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My tone started to change with contractions. It was beginning to be extremely difficult for me to feel like I could manage them. I can remember saying, once again "I can't do this! I don't want to do this anymore!" and even before I said the words, I KNEW what that meant. I was SO close. But I said it anyway because it just felt like maybe I'd be the only woman on the planet to labor for eternity. I remember the midwife saying that was a really good sign. And I remember one of the nurses getting really close to me and telling me how great that was. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Septtro picked up on my changed tone during contractions and they asked me if I felt like I needed to push. I wasn't sure. With my last two babies, I was never checked again after triage. I just naturally started pushing. I think this time, I just didn't feel as in control of how things were going so I wasn't paying as close attention to my body. Septtro insisted they check me and I didn't mind. I was 10 cm. I think I asked again, just to be sure I heard them correctly. I'm not sure I believed I was almost at the finish line. I naturally turned myself on my left side and pushed with the next contraction. It felt way better (just as it did with my last labor I had with ruptured membranes)! The contractions were essentially right on top of one another now. Every time I would feel anything, I would push. I can remember Septtro reminding me to stay in control because I guess it may have seemed like I was just a big rush to get the baby out, but it was just my contractions were coming that quickly. This time, I don't remember feeling that "ring of fire" as the baby begins to crown. I think I pushed just a couple times and her head was almost out. Somebody soon said, "oh her hand is by her head!" - which would explain why I felt so many different movements down lower and had fears she was breech at one point. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In no time, I heard someone say "Susan grab your baby. Grab your baby" and I reached down and pulled her the rest of the way out and up to my chest. I immediately began crying. All of the pain was gone and she was in my arms. I did it! We did it!! I then asked for a hair bow as none of my other girls got that hospital hat with a built in hair bow. Certainly, I deserved one with my fifth girl. :) The nurses were really nice and got one for her very quickly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wasn't really in the mood for posed pictures and I think you can tell by some of them. Haha! I hope Kaylee always remembers that day she was there for her sister's birth. I think it's really special she was able to do that. And I'm so thankful to Septtro for agreeing to have my mom and my friend to be there too. It's such an honor to be able to invite someone to witness the miracle of birth and I'm so glad they wanted to be there with us!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We talked about her name and cut it close again, shortly before being discharged. But I think it suits her well: Josie Mailelagi Sene. Welcome to our family baby girl. You are SO loved!!!</span><br />
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-5554953122020520602016-03-28T13:22:00.000-04:002016-04-07T15:06:49.429-04:00In Case You Were Wondering<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Before we had kids, and even after, people would ask me how many kids I wanted. At first, I would always reply "Four. I think four would be about my limit". </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And here I am. I have four beautiful daughters.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">But I don't really feel four is "my limit". Although I really do think I understand more of what people mean when they say that. It's not like I couldn't handle having more. We do what we gotta do right? :) But each family has to decide what they believe is the wisest thing to do - financially, physically, emotionally. And that looks differently for everybody.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm not trying to hint or divulge any "planning" or "not planning" for future babies because, quite honestly, that's none of anybody's business. I'm just trying to say that I've been 100 percent sure - nearly immediately - after having my first three girls that I wanted another baby. But I'm still not there this time. In fact, shortly after my fourth was born, I told my husband "I don't think I wanna do that again". I remember him replying "Well you've never said that before". I thought, at first, it may have been because her birth was so fast and furious. But I find myself, throughout my days, having that same thought. I don't think I wanna do this again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've had moms encourage me by saying "This is just a season". It's true. But there are times when I feel like I'm caught in scenes of Groundhog Day. I just feel like I've been in the same season for seven years. I've been sharing my body nonstop (pregnant and/or nursing) for seven years. And in the grand scheme of things, I realize that's really not that long. But that's all I've ever known so far, as a mother. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">*Disclaimer: P<i>lease</i> don't misunderstand me honestly navigating my feelings for complaining. I absolutely understand how incredibly blessed I am to have my girls and would never trade them for anything.* </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But what would it be like to end one season and begin another? I'm not sure - I haven't been there yet. And I guess I've never really been curious about it until now. It's like I'm peeking over the wall of newborns and preschoolers - wondering what that other side (season of life) is like. I've just never cared to peek before.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's not that I wouldn't welcome another baby. But I also think I can truly say that I would also be perfectly content if we only had our four girls. This is new territory for me. I'm not saying "I'd like to be done" but I'm not saying "I'd like to have more" either. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ultimately, it's really not my decision. I know this. People make plans all the time, only to find the Lord decides differently. I'm ok with whatever He decides. But I really don't have a strong desire one way or the other this time. And that's just new to me. So I guess, as always, time will tell. :)</span></div>
Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-31813239815176526902015-08-24T16:56:00.000-04:002015-09-21T22:38:21.389-04:00Christmas in July - Eliza's birth story (my third vbac and first water birth)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eliza Meaalofa arrived on July 25, 2015 just before sunrise. My dad told me he would be able to remember her birthday by remembering she was a "Christmas in July" baby. I thought that was pretty clever - and I think it's pretty cool that her middle name also means "gift". :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had been having fairly intense contractions for about a week or more before she was actually born - ones that would wake me up in the middle of the night but then fizzle out. This was new territory for me</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> as with my last two labors, when I woke up with contractions, it was the real deal. The last two labors had also started around 5am and lasted about 8-9 hours. I figured this one would be different and, perhaps, shorter due to all of the work my body was doing on and off prior to my due date. This proved true as I was in labor for a very short four hours this time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've heard some women say they wish their labors were as short as mine and while it was nice for it not to take as long to see her sweet face, I didn't really like how quickly it went by. I know that probably sounds ridiculous to most and I don't really know how else to explain it other than I didn't really have time to process anything mentally before I was thrown into intense labor. This labor was what I would describe as fast and furious. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My estimated due date was July 22 - a Wednesday - and I pretty much figured I'd go past that as I always do. But it's still not easy to see that day come and go. The day after my due date (Thursday), my mom took all of my girls to her house to spend the night so Septtro and I could have some time with just each other before the baby. We went to our favorite restaurants and picked out a lovie for Eliza and just enjoyed each other's company and conversation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That night, I had pretty intense contractions. They weren't close enough together for me to start timing them but they were enough to force me out of bed to get more comfortable. One of my dear friends was also expecting her fourth girl two days after me and it was pretty uncanny how similar our pre-labor patterns were. We were texting each other Thursday evening and most times, her and I would respond "same here". I joked our girls were conspiring together. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I woke up Friday morning babyless once again but would have contractions hard enough for me to have to stop what I was doing, yet nothing that would be consistent. I felt like every time I moved, I would have a contraction. Septtro and I headed to breakfast at one of my favorite spots and later that evening, we picked up our girls from my parent's house and headed home. That evening, I got a text from my friend that she had been admitted to the hospital - it was her due date and I while I was genuinely excited for her, I wished so badly I could join her. I told her I'd come up and visit the next day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At 2am the next morning (Saturday, July 25th), I woke up again with intense contractions. I went to use the restroom as I always do and checked Instagram and my email - seemed just like every other early morning contraction wake up call. I tried to lay back down but wasn't able to get comfortable. I started swaying back and forth, working through each contraction - praying and secretly hoping maybe today was the day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Exactly a week earlier, I'd had consistent contractions for about 45 minutes and then they stopped. So I knew I wanted to time them to be sure I was in real labor. I started my app and began timing. Mine always start out really close together - about 2-5 minutes. They were lasting about a minute or more but I still wasn't convinced. I'd had so many times before that turned into nothing for the past week or so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Septtro ended up waking up on his own around 2:15am while I was working through contractions. I informed him what was going on and he slowly got out of bed and started getting some things together. I called my mom around 2:30am from his cell phone and remember her answering with "Is she in labor??" :) I told her it was me and I thought maybe she should come over. I figured if it turned out to be a false alarm, she could go home and take a nap later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The contractions stayed pretty consistent over an hour's time. I went to the girl's toy room (thus the dirty mirror) to take a picture just in case it was the last one of my pregnant belly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just have to post this comparison of me in labor with my last (left) and then this time (right) - almost same outfit and seems my belly actually wasn't as big this time as last. :) But I also had an anterior placenta (placenta up front, baby in back) so that could have been why. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My mom arrived around 3:30am and Septtro called the on-call midwife to let her know we were on our way. Before we left the house, Septtro had gotten into the car and I was standing outside with my mom. I had a pretty intense contraction again and had to lean on her for support. Closing my eyes seemed to help me focus better and even before my mom got to the house, I preferred to be outside in the dark working through the contractions. I guess the quiet and darkness was just calming to me. As soon as my mom headed into our house, we headed to the hospital. We live a good 30 minutes away and during the ride, I think I had maybe four contractions. I kept thinking how embarrassed I'd be if this wasn't true labor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's funny how each labor is so different because with my last, I could not stand to be sitting down. Yet this time, it was the opposite - I felt incredible pressure when I wasn't sitting down! Maybe that's why the car ride didn't seem all that bad. I can remember Septtro reminding me to stay in control during the contractions and helping me lower my tone and relax each time to work through them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We got to the hospital around 4:00am. Septtro got me a wheelchair and we headed to the sixth floor. When we got to the triage desk, I felt like everybody was moving extremely slowly. I'm sure they probably weren't but it felt like it to me. As I was sitting in the wheelchair, I had a contraction and the nurse commented "Oh that was a big one". There were actually two midwives there - one was trying to attend as many water births as possible as she was fairly new to the program. She came to check me and I was preparing myself to hear 2-3 cm. I was actually fine with knowing because I was planning to use the water to labor and birth in this time so I wanted to be able to go through transition with the help of the water (with my last labor, I labored as long as I could at home and was 8 cm when I got to the hospital). My legs started to shake a bit, which did make me wonder if I was further along than I thought - the result of a surge of hormones especially during transition. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She checked me and, to my surprise, said I was 8 cm - again??! I mean I was glad but in a way actually a bit disappointed too because I didn't want get to the hospital that late this time. I wanted to use the tub as long as possible to labor in. But honestly, I don't know how we could have gotten there any sooner than we did! I woke up at 2am, timed contractions for an hour, and we left my house as soon as my mom got there. I guess the week or so prior my body had been progressing more than I figured.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember turning to Septtro and saying "well we get to meet her today!!". They tried getting a read on her heart rate but it was very difficult because she was so low and I wanted to be in a certain position to work through the contractions. After they realized how far along I was, I felt things started to move a bit quicker. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They soon wheeled me to the labor room and had me get on the bed. I knew they had to get a read on the baby for about 20 minutes before letting me in the water - another reason I'd hoped to get there earlier in labor. They wanted to make sure when I had a contraction, her heart rate responded appropriately. Her heart tones sounded great but apparently, she thought it'd be a great time to take a nap. Her heart rate never dropped but it wasn't increasing whenever I had a contraction either. That's my girl - the girl who had scared me multiple times during pregnancy by not moving when I would poke and prod her. Turns out, even four weeks later, this baby loves her sleep! Can I get a hallelujah??!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was probably in the bed for close to 45 minutes so they could get the proper reads on her. I can remember staring at the tub filled with water, wishing I could get in. I would ask them every now and then how much longer I'd have to sit in the bed. To make things a bit more interesting, the nurse totally butchered my IV (as a vbac, I'm required to have a port access just in case). If I'm noticing that pain above my contractions, that's sort of a problem. I heard her say "I can't do this" and another nurse easily put the port in on my other hand. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, I got the go ahead to get in the tub. And Oh. My. Word! It felt amazing! I'm not saying it completely took the pain away but it helped immensely with the intense pressure I was feeling and allowed me to relax even more. I believe I got in the tub a little after 5am. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I kept changing positions. I couldn't really find one that I felt was most comfortable. The midwives reminded me that in my birth plan, I'd expressed I wanted to basically deliver the baby with Septtro and they said they would be hands off unless I told them otherwise. I was very thankful for how respectful they were of my wishes. We had planned for Septtro to get in the tub with me, but there really wasn't enough room for him to be in there and for me to maneuver like I wanted. I ended up settling in a position where I was on my knees and leaning over the tub towards Septtro. He was so good about reminding me to control my response to the contractions. The midwives kept a very calm presence and at one point I remember one telling me how great I was handling the contractions and she never would have thought when I first came in that I was already dilated to 8 centimeters. I can't tell you how big of a deal it is to hear words of encouragement when I'm in labor. Mind and body are definitely very connected and it's important to me to feel as relaxed and at ease as possible to allow my body to follow suit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not too long after I'd been in the tub, I started crying and telling Septtro I didn't want to do it anymore. I couldn't do it anymore. I knew, in the back of my mind, this is something I've said the past two times right before I was ready to push. But in my state of mind at the moment, I didn't think I was anywhere close to seeing my baby's face. It felt like forever away. The midwife tried to encourage me saying "you're so very close" and of course, Septtro reassured me I WAS doing it and it wouldn't be long. I believe I said that two him twice while crying. And sure enough, shortly after, I felt a bit "pushy". I told one of the midwives after a contraction and she said "yeah, uh huh, I can tell". :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that for this labor and my last that they never checked me to see if I was fully dilated. They just relied on my body to let them know. I think this is the reason why I ended up pushing for so long (almost two hours) with my second (different provider). They had checked me and I was fully dilated but she likely wasn't low enough for my pushing to be as effective. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I admitted to everybody I was scared to push. I was afraid maybe I was pushing only because I wanted it to be over. I wanted to see her. After all, I'd *just* let everybody know I didn't want to do it anymore. I don't remember anybody responding to that fear (they may have) but I just started paying more attention to my body during the contractions and pushed a bit harder until I knew there was no need to be scared - it was time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I push, I'm really loud. And it's not really because it's extremely painful. I think it's just because of all that pressure - it's intense. And I have to release all that energy somehow. I can remember the midwives getting my attention at one point and telling me to not scream, just push. Haha. Looking back, that was because screaming isn't so productive but concentrating on pushing and, if needed, letting out lower tone noises is. I tried more breathing techniques like panting, especially when I felt she was close to crowning so I didn't push too quickly and allowed my skin to stretch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I was pushing for a short while, I felt my water break. Same thing happened with my last - it wasn't until I was pushing that it broke. I remember at one point reaching down to feel her head, thinking because of how much pressure I was feeling, it must be almost out but I could only feel maybe an orange-slice worth of her head. I told her "cmon baby!" as if she could hear me. :) After a few more pushes, the head was either all the way out or close to it when I switched positions from kneeling to laying more on my back in the water. Her shoulders birthed the quickest of all of mine and in an instant, I had her in my arms! </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not sure exactly how long I pushed for but it likely wasn't more than 15 minutes. Her</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> cord was wrapped around her shoulder so we slipped that off. I immediately cried and held her tight. Nobody else touched her or myself which I loved. In the past, a nurse or doctor/midwife would start wiping them off and I just wanted a moment...and we got that. She was COVERED in vernix - it was all over the midwife and my legs. My other babies either had none or very little when they were born. I called it birthday frosting as I'd heard others say before and the midwife said she'd never heard it called that. I started rubbing it into her skin as I'd read it helps moisturize and protect baby from germs. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">look at all that birthday frosting!! (mostly on her bottom and legs)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We sat in the tub and snuggled a while and then I started to make my way to the bed. They don't want you to deliver the placenta in the tub because it'd be hard to tell if there's an issue with hemorrhaging. I had consented to immediate pitocin via the port I was required to have so they wouldn't do any fundal massaging, which was extremely painful last time and a very bad experience. Septtro got to do skin to skin briefly before the nurse took her to check her oxygen level. She wasn't pinking up and I even commented on her color still being pale/blue. They took her to the warmer and she got angry and cried and pinked up very nicely. :) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eliza was born almost exactly 8 hours after my friend's fourth baby girl and they ended up just a few doors down at the hospital so we went to visit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am so thankful to the Lord for a safe delivery for both of us and for our precious daughter! We are so in love!!!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We don't lack for someone wanting to hold her!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-36386976222258036872015-04-13T14:45:00.004-04:002015-04-13T14:45:54.950-04:00Yes, I Want a Son<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ok so it's been a while. Part of the reason is our laptop has been broken and I just can't type out blogs on my phone. :) <br /><br />Anyway, so I haven't said it here yet but I'm expecting our fourth baby in July.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk07sJn00Q8ml9K6jZaA5jEyRI8tnvrRTMSdmQAh-aKoaNlMwOy8jWhuPVqtEbWr2wSCBbI3fk5hwOU_riixNs_fzF0DkY5RHpIIM8lPhpuVtBIj_Lb98H8Wx0h7EqeEtv2e_8dRja3edZ/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk07sJn00Q8ml9K6jZaA5jEyRI8tnvrRTMSdmQAh-aKoaNlMwOy8jWhuPVqtEbWr2wSCBbI3fk5hwOU_riixNs_fzF0DkY5RHpIIM8lPhpuVtBIj_Lb98H8Wx0h7EqeEtv2e_8dRja3edZ/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Septtro came up with this clever word puzzle to announce the pregnancy</td></tr>
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The Lord has taken me on quite a journey throughout this pregnancy (He tends to like to use my pregnancies to increase my trust and reliance on Him). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've always wanted a son. Even when I babysat as a teenager, I preferred the games outside and ball throwing to Barbies and painting nails. I'm not a very girly person myself and the initial thought of having my first girl was a bit scary. But I've gotten quite accustomed to the girly world and quite like it now. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my beautiful little ballerinas</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And yet, my heart still longs to experience having a son, too - to become a part of that world as well. That relationship of a mother and son everybody talks about just as highly as a father and daughter; it's just special. You can't describe it. And I just figured I'd get to experience both worlds by now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even before my third girl, Logann, was born, people would ask if we are hoping for a boy. I would tell them I didn't care. But deep down, I did have a desire for a son. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was afraid to tell anybody I did want a boy out of fear it would make me sound like I didn't value my girls as much. That's absolutely not the case. I feel if I had a house full of boys, I would want to experience what life would be like with a daughter as well. This desire I had - for a son, to experience both gender worlds - i</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">t was a good desire, one I felt was from the Lord in fact, and so I did not realize it when I began to make it an idol of mine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After Logann was born, people commented even more about us having a boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Oh are you gonna try for a boy next time?" </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Your poor husband" </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Wow - just wait until they become teenagers!!"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know they didn't mean for their comments to upset me, but because my heart had made having a son an idol of mine, I took even more offense to what they said. Isn't that usually the case anyway though? We take the most offense when there's an underlying heart issue of our own??</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So when I found out we were expecting again - and even before then - I prayed almost daily that God would grant us a son. But I also prayed that if He gave us another daughter, that He would prepare my heart to accept His plan. Because I knew that He knew better than me. And His plan is better than my plan. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The day we went for our ultrasound, we actually didn't tell anybody where we were going. I wanted my husband and I to find out together - just the two of us. There would be no comments or pressure from others to react a certain way. We decided not to find out during the sonogram, but had the technician write it down for us. We took the envelope to a nearby grocery store and asked if they could fill two cupcakes with the appropriate colored icing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the sweetest thing happened in my heart...I looked at the picture of my baby's face before we found out the gender - this sweet gift of life the Lord had given to us - and I fell in love. Boy or girl, I didn't care. I truly didn't. Of course, the desire was still there, but God was starting to work in my heart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Septtro bit into the cupcake as we sat there in our van to reveal we are expecting our fourth girl. I must say, I wasn't disappointed. God had answered my prayer! He had prepared my heart to receive this news!!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKckyBrA_JFNITxqAOsJM_qs9CwFcTypbXg-qg-6z8zVv27QlSs-sL3PfXfJShsht5AEhGeA3g5nTLOWJQQyTcDTXs9WHvfnIwT-HB5t6l9GsvswGKAB2YSBYVijlMt-TX4KvDQTPAcoc8/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKckyBrA_JFNITxqAOsJM_qs9CwFcTypbXg-qg-6z8zVv27QlSs-sL3PfXfJShsht5AEhGeA3g5nTLOWJQQyTcDTXs9WHvfnIwT-HB5t6l9GsvswGKAB2YSBYVijlMt-TX4KvDQTPAcoc8/s1600/photo.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just look at that sweet little baby! What a precious gift!!!!!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Afterwards, I sent a dear friend of mine a text to tell her the news. She had four boys in a row and really desired to have a daughter - opposite situation of me. She had understood my emotions and feelings before and I knew she would understand again. Her words deeply encouraged my heart and expressed feelings I had that I couldn't express and ones I didn't feel most people would be able to relate to:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"God knows what he's doing, we can trust Him! But sadness is okay too. I remember those days leading up to my 4th son. It wasn't <b>him</b> that I struggled with, but the way my life would look <span style="font-size: x-small;">(yes! this explained my heart exactly)</span>. I still would walk down the aisle of girl clothes and wonder if I'd ever experience the relationship with a daughter. But God is faithful to heal us and change our hearts towards gratitude in the rich blessings He pours out to us. He is so good to even give us children. It's an honor and privilege that we fail to see often times. He will change your heart, heal you or give you the desire you have in His time. Our spiritual service of worship is daily presenting ourselves on His altar, regardless of our will or desires."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Be very confident in what God has given you and see it as a calling. That's what I had to do. I started feeling honored that God saw me worthy of raising men. That was a huge deal! Think of the impact you'll have on these four beautiful women. You'll teach them biblical womanhood and it is lacking majorly in the Body of Christ! Just think how God will use you in their lives and all the things we go through as mothers...you'll be there for them! Keep the eternal perspective. Pray for it because that's the only way we can put the value of what people say or do in its proper place." </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And now, I can honestly say that I would be absolutely fine if God saw fit to give us all girls. And I'm over the moon excited to welcome another daughter into our family!! Of course, the desire to have a son is still there. But I believe it's no longer my idol. Now, I'm just grateful He has entrusted me with these four precious lives. And when people make comments about our house full of girls, I'm happy to explain how incredibly grateful I am.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, I am nervous about raising four girls. Yes, I'm nervous about the tween/teenage years. Yes, I'm absolutely terrified I've already ruined opportunities to cultivate an open and honest relationship between my girls and myself. But by His grace....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, and the Lord did bless my friend with a daughter - her fifth. :) She mentioned how humbled she was because she was in a place of contentment before they knew the gender. Maybe one day I'll be in the same situation. Maybe not. Maybe one day I'll have a house full of grandsons. Maybe not. But I do know I am so very thankful for each one of my girls!!! They are all such precious gifts!!! I hope they know that. I hope they know and will always know how cherished they are!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, if we could only agree on a name....</span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-11727921233433763712014-09-14T16:27:00.000-04:002014-09-14T16:27:07.884-04:00Birth Matters<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At first I didn't want to post about this. I was scared what others would think...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"what a baby"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"get over it already", </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"but you are blessed by so much"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"at least you had three healthy babies"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ok so I sort of gave it away with that last one. It's no secret I love everything about pregnancy and birth and beyond. I'm fascinated with learning about how God created women's bodies to grow tiny humans and then birth them and nourish them and care for them (hearing every little noise even when in a dead sleep - especially right after having a baby - is a blessing and a curse am I right??)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two major things about my previous pregnancies I'll never "get over"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. <a href="http://susansene.blogspot.com/2008/08/peanut.html" target="_blank">losing our first baby</a> after seeing the heartbeat</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. having a <a href="http://susansene.blogspot.com/2009/09/birth-story-warning-this-is-long.html" target="_blank">csection that was totally unnecessary</a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel I've worked through the first one - our loss - more so than the second. Part of the reason for this, in my opinion, is because of how I was made to feel afterwards. After you lose a baby, people expect you to be upset. But after you have a birth that deeply affected you emotionally, people expect you to be fine because the result is a healthy baby. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, a healthy baby is a blessing. But just because that was the result, that doesn't negate how moms are made to feel during birth. We need to be validated in our feelings - good and bad. More moms need to be asked "how did your birth go?". Even if it wasn't a bad experience, let's give more moms an opportunity to process the experience and be allowed to be honest in how she feels. And please don't say things like "well it could have been worse" or "at least you have a healthy baby" because she likely hears that as "I shouldn't be sad about this". Instead, tell her "so sorry you experienced that" and just listen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know I wanted so badly to feel like my csection was actually necessary. But truth be told, it wasn't. Perhaps in that particular instance, because of all of the interventions that happened, it was the only way to get her out at that particular time. But had all those interventions not happened (because they didn't need to happen for any medical reason), it wouldn't have been my only option.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My firstborn will be five in just a couple weeks. I</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> still carry the scar and a little sting of hurt. But in the past year, I've been able to finally work through my sadness, anger, and frustration with what happened that day. Seeing pictures of that day used to just bring a huge lump to my throat. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffKM9ONRcs9j9-XZnYOVq4NxRalPEsCIX0xPpqNV9l8RQCoUx3UWOryfQ3-Sg-S06-4tfFdjtman5WvLmUXgY4iKdanNCSYHdIqI-tpN0TwAFXs_WxdvUFyrSLGqfhgHmjKtl1MezbOnC/s1600/ry=400.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffKM9ONRcs9j9-XZnYOVq4NxRalPEsCIX0xPpqNV9l8RQCoUx3UWOryfQ3-Sg-S06-4tfFdjtman5WvLmUXgY4iKdanNCSYHdIqI-tpN0TwAFXs_WxdvUFyrSLGqfhgHmjKtl1MezbOnC/s1600/ry=400.jpeg" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shortly after Rilynn was born - I was exhausted </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My almost five year old recently asked to hear about the day she was born. At first, I was saddened to even have to relive it all again - like opening up an old wound. But now, I realize that I likely wouldn't have had such a </span><a href="http://susansene.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-birth-of-logann-second-vbac.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">beautiful birth with Logann</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> if I didn't have the experience I did with Rilynn. Rilynn's birth opened up so many other opportunities! Researching and learning about birth has led me to learning about other areas of life that I wouldn't have otherwise taken the time to even think about!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguhSXyT0LAELgObsPIfM4qPuBMs20eKGwCjVKm3UoBr11qmmhHg1hY_Lw2txidB5BOJS1R7CDsNPW7SdyfoWJLQRkTI06y_Wl-buyPhLxU0Bhex1XTGwgRElhmMA3K_UR8dvPsko9p5LJ/s1600/ry=400-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguhSXyT0LAELgObsPIfM4qPuBMs20eKGwCjVKm3UoBr11qmmhHg1hY_Lw2txidB5BOJS1R7CDsNPW7SdyfoWJLQRkTI06y_Wl-buyPhLxU0Bhex1XTGwgRElhmMA3K_UR8dvPsko9p5LJ/s1600/ry=400-2.jpeg" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shortly after Kaylee was born - my 10 pounder and first vbac</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtImehVVDttBuDLOraaWMa5xq4iws2IwExlL8g6ekViAXP4p0mKI9SPQsCVTu_r-9pP7YoMMoiSGCwMeuuhgip1mbkpUStLpUx080ytMWoZ5j38HOvPo7ldMaUr7uBZ5FjOsO3w90L3-k/s1600/ry=400-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtImehVVDttBuDLOraaWMa5xq4iws2IwExlL8g6ekViAXP4p0mKI9SPQsCVTu_r-9pP7YoMMoiSGCwMeuuhgip1mbkpUStLpUx080ytMWoZ5j38HOvPo7ldMaUr7uBZ5FjOsO3w90L3-k/s1600/ry=400-3.jpeg" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shortly after Logann was born</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knowing that every woman and situation is different let me just boldly yet humbly say, I'm allowed to feel how I feel. If somebody had an experience similar to mine (although no situation is completely the same) and didn't struggle, that's great. I'm happy for them. I really and truly am. But that doesn't mean that I shouldn't or can't be upset about my experience. I never really felt like anybody validated my feelings afterwards. But that's important - it was important for me and it's important for </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">other</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> women as well! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So while it still hurts, I am now embracing that experience. And I hope that I can/have positively affected others. If you are reading this and you're a first time mom, don't be fearful of birth! Birth can be so beautiful!!! I know that now! Learn all you can!!!! There are documentaries and books on birth that can help (T</span><a href="http://www.thebusinessofbeingborn.com/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">he Business of Being Born</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ina-Mays-Guide-Childbirth-Gaskin/dp/0553381156" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Guide to Childbirth</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and </span><a href="http://redeemingchildbirth.com/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Redeeming Childbirth</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> are my favorites).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know nothing will ever go just as planned - especially with something as unpredictable as birth. But it can still be a positive experience. A healthy baby is absolutely important. But so is a happy and healthy momma! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfyP9zFSWTkvLCgKOUKFNFEpavyeyJXAHsXIJyHQH0FT77VTC2A67PsBCsnIUitNqK3uBLeOsKQYEUQDHWEryp7H9NECRYUwsyIVXsHs7a4VblZi8-FCySCAi_qTFmpROyrv2DlCgqrzyP/s1600/ry=400-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfyP9zFSWTkvLCgKOUKFNFEpavyeyJXAHsXIJyHQH0FT77VTC2A67PsBCsnIUitNqK3uBLeOsKQYEUQDHWEryp7H9NECRYUwsyIVXsHs7a4VblZi8-FCySCAi_qTFmpROyrv2DlCgqrzyP/s1600/ry=400-4.jpeg" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are so awesome!</td></tr>
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-48364227035811405462014-08-11T20:51:00.000-04:002014-08-11T20:51:00.169-04:00Baby Monitor Alternative<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've never had a video baby monitor although I've always thought it would be nice to have. I just couldnt bring myself to spent that much on what I didn't think was a necessity for us. But then again, we would have gotten our money's worth by now. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'd heard of others using webcams and security cameras in lieu of a video monitor for their children's rooms so I decided to try it out after we moved Logann into her sisters' room. The <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Foscam-FI8910W-Network-Camera-Two-Way/dp/B006ZP8UOW/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1407717037&sr=1-1-catcorr&keywords=foscam+fi8910w" target="_blank">one we got</a> (Foscam wireless IP camera - FI8910W) has night vision, two-way audio, pan and tilt (no zoom) and comes with a mount for the wall. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>What I like:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- the price...at just over $60 it's a lot cheaper than a traditional baby monitor</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- the option to download apps and view from your smart phone or tablet </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- being able to take snapshots of what I see. this comes in handy when showing certain children how I know they were doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. It's also fun to see how my girls play with and comfort each other. :)</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6ms2QPH9FoDr8UCZdfUIpGY8cDK4BCSA7J97mhAk0vJdpyTbNWQXXTEsYZwmxGMrp2lo7JnAaW8WSy4yG8KBq-tzE5cgWqhltBzOR5NV7zAQvlB5OUh_ugf_W53nevOkZOsSvd5bYdG5/s1600/snapshot_00626E4FF8EA_20140810200834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6ms2QPH9FoDr8UCZdfUIpGY8cDK4BCSA7J97mhAk0vJdpyTbNWQXXTEsYZwmxGMrp2lo7JnAaW8WSy4yG8KBq-tzE5cgWqhltBzOR5NV7zAQvlB5OUh_ugf_W53nevOkZOsSvd5bYdG5/s1600/snapshot_00626E4FF8EA_20140810200834.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oops somebody is out of bed!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzEJDS1aAZ92dkKR_415-fHF2gtaA6bhTm-xV6rYnhyphenhyphenD5ape8UJowPHpPe6-rpqLn-Pku5FE5sobW_R76YCn2MZjb8nB0fmQQ8nUtKsaqZXVw8iOW6G4HD05cxxilNQ66Q4Fgdqw7NpWx/s1600/snapshot_00626E4FF8EA_20140802203209+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzEJDS1aAZ92dkKR_415-fHF2gtaA6bhTm-xV6rYnhyphenhyphenD5ape8UJowPHpPe6-rpqLn-Pku5FE5sobW_R76YCn2MZjb8nB0fmQQ8nUtKsaqZXVw8iOW6G4HD05cxxilNQ66Q4Fgdqw7NpWx/s1600/snapshot_00626E4FF8EA_20140802203209+(1).jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">they were playing doggie or something :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- the ability to use it as an actual security camera if desired...pretty sure it has a motion detection option</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>What I don't like:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- it's pretty difficult to set up. we still can't figure out how to get the two-way audio to work which would be nice for telling Kaylee to get back on her bed instead of having to walk to their room. :) Even my techie neighbor never figured out how to do port forwarding so it could be viewed from other computers (which I don't really care about now but it'd be nice when we are on vacation to have it placed somewhere to view the main area of the house)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- yes it can be hacked. There was a really creepy story about a couple who heard a strange guy talking to their baby and controlling the camera from wherever he lived. Ewww. But, there is a generic password with the camera some people don't change or make very hard to guess and then there's your home wireless password that should also be fairly strong. So I'm really not all that concerned since both of our passwords are strong ones. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All in all, I'm glad we have it. It's come in handy to see if Logann is awake or asleep before I go in the room when I'm not ready to get her out of bed yet. And with all three sharing a room now, it's just nice to have a set of eyes in there. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUm_SMSmw__Ro-wCU5zXyrLpC_3eyk5IZqNJVv2QvRRwCOSa7PqUDzLYiAMOeSqulLCGh_a0hLS2GC970_Cnv04zEzqjhSSPf5StmhDYbc5ESurfV2BAPWxeFOzd-sEbzhPaGfNfn9s_pe/s1600/snapshot_00626E4FF8EA_20140810205017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUm_SMSmw__Ro-wCU5zXyrLpC_3eyk5IZqNJVv2QvRRwCOSa7PqUDzLYiAMOeSqulLCGh_a0hLS2GC970_Cnv04zEzqjhSSPf5StmhDYbc5ESurfV2BAPWxeFOzd-sEbzhPaGfNfn9s_pe/s1600/snapshot_00626E4FF8EA_20140810205017.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">all three asleep - no glowing night vision eyes means eyes are closed!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-26250592203227100102014-07-30T16:37:00.000-04:002014-07-30T16:37:42.170-04:00I'm Back on Facebook - sorta<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A little over two years ago, I deleted my Facebook account. Honestly, I didn't really miss it. At all! For me, it was actually quite freeing to do so.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> It was just too easy for me to get wrapped up in all the drama, negativity, and ego stroking. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But now I've made an account again. And a few people have found me already. But please don't be offended when I deny your friend request. :) My only limits (thus far at least) for getting back on Facebook is that I'm not friending individual people - only group pages and businesses and organizations. This allows me to still find deals, stay informed with local mom groups and church, and read articles I know will be a positive influence in my life. I just don't have the self control to not click on things I know will upset me or reply to things that I shouldn't. So this is my way of protecting myself. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm still on Instagram so feel free to find me there!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And now I leave you with a picture from a recent photo shoot with my good friend Kelli (she does awesome work so keep <a href="http://www.naisang.com/" target="_blank">her in mind</a> for family, baby, and especially wedding pictures!).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This lil firecracker is about to turn a year old - August 10th!! I can't believe it!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCxH4JLJ3HsBQ_vAXwo3c_3Vh3LewqNKT5_FZ0ERfpO44-9E2hgzEo_-sFU-ayoiVL0A6S7etrPgyvV8XsA882bXil9qiJceH9lTMVwbvFFWlYrOJ8OogAyjhJLjjtwO3C2oN0_xgyagj/s1600/Lo.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCxH4JLJ3HsBQ_vAXwo3c_3Vh3LewqNKT5_FZ0ERfpO44-9E2hgzEo_-sFU-ayoiVL0A6S7etrPgyvV8XsA882bXil9qiJceH9lTMVwbvFFWlYrOJ8OogAyjhJLjjtwO3C2oN0_xgyagj/s1600/Lo.PNG" height="265" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-50305340034858511472014-06-17T22:30:00.002-04:002014-06-17T22:30:38.996-04:00Revolutionary Laundry Secrets<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I remember before having my first baby, people would tell me how much my laundry would increase. Honestly, I didn't think it did that much after my first. Little did I know, she's pretty much the least messy kid on the planet. So that helped. Then came my second - messy city! But I could control it a little better when she was a baby and toddler. Then after having my third, plus a messy middle, and another older one who is tidy but also clumsy...well, let's just say I began to understand this whole never-ending laundry issue. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A friend of mine came over and gave some great pointers which have helped A LOT. They're so simple but I would have never thought of it on my own!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As soon as clothes are washed and dried, they go in a basket. And <b>eventually</b> (working on a better system for getting this done sooner since my baskets of clothes tend to sit on the couch longer than I'd like), it gets sorted into piles. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyAA8am0bB8as-RV9NeoAQ9D6N6XTU0Pxs62WuKSnazb8rdFHbww7T0fScOy6njFzf5q5a7DJWbmxS59YjW_2OrwzLyGt-IKlNvUyBDFgJTtZAUhr60R3KKHTvCZkWt_B_nLzDOlD7hAsP/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyAA8am0bB8as-RV9NeoAQ9D6N6XTU0Pxs62WuKSnazb8rdFHbww7T0fScOy6njFzf5q5a7DJWbmxS59YjW_2OrwzLyGt-IKlNvUyBDFgJTtZAUhr60R3KKHTvCZkWt_B_nLzDOlD7hAsP/s1600/photo.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Both of my older girls can help do this. They can find their own clothes and make a pile for their stuff. I've made everything accessible for them to put away clothes except shirts and dresses which I hang for them. After they're done with that, they can usually sort through mine and Septtro's clothes. Although I have taken offense before when they thought his shirt was mine. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I also read a </span><a href="http://biblicalhomemaking.blogspot.com/2013/10/homemaking-hack-10-best-laundry-secret.html" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">blog post</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> not long after my third was born that helped me see laundry differently. Seriously, </span><a href="http://biblicalhomemaking.blogspot.com/2013/10/homemaking-hack-10-best-laundry-secret.html" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">take a look</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is Logann's drawer for onesies and leg warmers. I know it looks like organized chaos...well, I guess it sorta is. But it's out of sight (once the drawer is closed). :)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GTeryDOG8KK16IAQyhYTfRmypZmbwRgOA5I9kexy7menHRnI9Gbr24phrpJtq6Gc4spF2I6WniuhGBuD3n7-nSJzn6kzeGjFYf67ky-R6Mg4YUULqHa6sFt1UQxQGyydkiv_NQN74Goi/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GTeryDOG8KK16IAQyhYTfRmypZmbwRgOA5I9kexy7menHRnI9Gbr24phrpJtq6Gc4spF2I6WniuhGBuD3n7-nSJzn6kzeGjFYf67ky-R6Mg4YUULqHa6sFt1UQxQGyydkiv_NQN74Goi/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I use these bins for bottoms for my girls (skirts, shorts, leggings, and some pants). They can easily put things away themselves and find something to put on when I need them dressed.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3Fx8AXltoDE2I8lmUooi7YSlWU_vXWhacVpGU8RMVavKW0DCeztgQ4U3eucUXyMYVxOZ7lqU5k2Hz-x98gV-vKy2H_I9sCdqpWXcw8ZYrChecAbKJaRZFjneKuhKNGG7kW9W2dceMw_d/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3Fx8AXltoDE2I8lmUooi7YSlWU_vXWhacVpGU8RMVavKW0DCeztgQ4U3eucUXyMYVxOZ7lqU5k2Hz-x98gV-vKy2H_I9sCdqpWXcw8ZYrChecAbKJaRZFjneKuhKNGG7kW9W2dceMw_d/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lots of drawers!!!!!!! I suggest the non-see through kind for this sort of laundry method. :) The see-through ones you see used to be behind a cute little curtain. You could also put a pictures on the outside of the drawers if needed to help younger ones know which drawer holds which items. My almost three year old has often confused her drawers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There is still a lot of laundry but it doesn't take me as long to get through it now. I've basically stopped folding anything and everything I possibly can. Washcloths, underwear, shorts, pants, leggings, etc just get put in a drawer...or basket. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSR_BSgqmiHPtYKLPYdmGFdfvbUtX_mywDMwY1ijUxIA0ugofvtCcYkL6cs4_-Qvyoen584UWmMB9vhmk11xxXXtxZOjQD_Vyx0qjNandHLAtvfnOJAQrstIdRMEAMovcRP-WGl9_bQj4C/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSR_BSgqmiHPtYKLPYdmGFdfvbUtX_mywDMwY1ijUxIA0ugofvtCcYkL6cs4_-Qvyoen584UWmMB9vhmk11xxXXtxZOjQD_Vyx0qjNandHLAtvfnOJAQrstIdRMEAMovcRP-WGl9_bQj4C/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">girls underwear is accessible and NOT folded :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've heard of people using those shoe organizers for laundry items. I'm sure there are all kinds of things you can use to make the process quicker and overall less stressful. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've had to let go of control a little bit and let go of all the "rules" I thought I had to follow. But it's been <i>SO</i> very freeing!!!! I challenge you to see how many items you can stop folding. ;)</span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-2800061693845196432014-05-19T16:19:00.000-04:002014-05-19T16:19:02.573-04:00Pondering<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recently, I came across this quote and loved it. I can easily lose sight of what - or who - truly matters sometimes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went to my grandmother's nursing home recently and truly thought about this quote. It's so true. The residents care most about visitors. The women don't care about how clean their houses were, how organized they were, how many homemade meals they were able to make, or how much they weighed. The men don't care about how important their jobs seemed, how many tools they had in their shed, how much they could bench press, or how well they could dominate on the football field, basketball court, etc etc.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They care about people. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I'm trying to remind myself of this when I become obsessive over things that really don't matter and build the best relationships I possibly can. </span><br />
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-70771453139644698012014-04-30T14:07:00.000-04:002014-04-30T14:07:18.512-04:00Sometimes I get angry- then I feel guilty<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I love being a mom. I really do. I've always wanted children and am thankful to have three beautiful girls! But lately, I've been dealing with a lot of guilt. Many times, I don't feel I have any clue what I'm doing. I hear the Lord urging me, in the midst of a tense situation, to not get angry with my kids. Don't raise your voice. Don't say that. No, no, no - don't do it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I do. I do it anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Enter the blanket of guilt. Why did I do that again??? I'm ruining my children. They will grow up to resent me and their childhood. I'm a terrible mother! Why did God even entrust me with these precious souls? I can't get it right!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In His goodness, He has shown me that I'm striving. I'm trying to "be a good mom" and not resting in grace and love.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"<i>Freedom</i> from the stain of sin. <i>Rest</i> from our strivings to be worthy in ourselves. <i>Love</i> that never changes. <i>Mercy</i> for all our failures. <i>Grace</i> that saves eternally. These are things that Christ lived, died, and rose again in order to <i>give</i> us - precisely because we can't get them any other way. We can't achieve them and we can't earn them. No matter how strong or how good we are. No matter how hard we try. They are gifts and everyone knows a gift is to be received, not earned." - <u>Christ in the Chaos</u> by Kimm Crandall</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If you ask my husband, he will tell you that one major area I've been working on is my tone of voice - with him as well as towards my girls. I know it's not honoring to the Lord when I speak harshly towards my husband or my children. I want to change. And I have been striving to do so in my own power. </span><br />
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"But our works are simply a means of living out the standing God has granted us, by grace, through Christ's sacrifice. The worlds flow <i>from</i> the grace, they don't produce the grace." - <u>Christ in the Chaos</u> </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'll </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">never</b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> get it right. And He already has. And even when I do choose the right response, it's not me! It's Him! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So the key is, for me, to not beat myself up when I get angry and respond incorrectly over and over. The key is to continue to show my family that I am weak and He is strong; to ask for their forgiveness and point them to the Savior. And those times when I do get it "right", I cannot bask in my own glory of success - but praise the One who gave me the power to overcome my sin!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Lord gave me Proverbs 15 after dwelling on my guilt. That chapter speaks a lot on how you use your words. I picked out a verse and the girls and I made collages with magazines to serve as a visual for everyone how our words and even tones can affect others. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1YvimgswdC6FL2pCljfP8-jmHYD1wRsvcaMFGt1-KxW-28-3vFoqX7MLOJcEbAVx-NYEtAOL8HXVOOOYc4Tm5_mC-pS86ZXGgoFBpEeu6YyzG1PgbPW8tj7GM9Uh0XQ1W3rlTXaU-bu6/s1600/photo+3.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1YvimgswdC6FL2pCljfP8-jmHYD1wRsvcaMFGt1-KxW-28-3vFoqX7MLOJcEbAVx-NYEtAOL8HXVOOOYc4Tm5_mC-pS86ZXGgoFBpEeu6YyzG1PgbPW8tj7GM9Uh0XQ1W3rlTXaU-bu6/s1600/photo+3.PNG" height="400" width="312" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Hot tempers cause arguments but patience brings peace" - Proverbs 15:18</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hope to improve on these areas more and more. I know I'll never be perfect. And now I'm at the place where I'm okay with that. :)</span></div>
Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-65492210459231536862014-04-17T21:08:00.003-04:002014-04-17T21:08:53.606-04:00My Favorite Make-Ahead Lunches and Snacks<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recently, I have been making the girls' lunches the night before. It saves time and sanity once lunch time rolls around. I hand them their "special container" and done and done!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That definitely frees me up a bit but then I'd get hungry and not leave time for me to grab something halfway decent to eat. Some days I'd end up eating lunch around 2pm after the older two were napping. Not exactly ideal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So for the past couple weeks, I've been preparing food for myself ahead of time too...as much as possible. It's been working out really well! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One thing I'm having to still get out of my head is that lunch doesn't have to always include a sandwich.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought I'd share a few of my favorites. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Egg salad...can be put on a sandwich or just with some lettuce or spinach or greens of your choice. Things I put in my egg salad: mayo, mustard, paprika, garlic powder, salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, and a splash of pickle juice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Strawberry and Egg Salad. This has become a new favorite of mine. It was born out of leftovers I wanted to use, a Google search, and some adaptations. Hard boiled eggs, strawberries, and greens with a homemade vinaigrette dressing. Dressing is equal parts apple cider vinegar, dijon mustard, and olive oil. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. Faux Cookie Dough <b>(kid approved)</b>. This came from <a href="http://www.parents.com/familyfun-magazine/" target="_blank">FamilyFun Magazine</a>. It's a good alternative snack with a protein punch! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a food processor, blend 1 1/2 cups of chickpeas, 6 Tblsp brown sugar, 1/4 cup peanut butter, 3 Tblsp oats, 1 Tblsp milk, 2 tsp vanilla, 1/8 tsp salt and baking soda. Fold in 1/3 cup of chocolate chips - great on apple slices or other fresh fruit. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. Zucchini Spaghetti <b>(kid approved)</b> Just shred zucchini ahead of time and put in an air-tight bowl. At lunch add sauce and cheeses and anything else you may have in the fridge that may taste good with it - shredded chicken or red beans perhaps? My kids also gobbled this up for dinner one night. I just told them it was spaghetti. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. <a href="http://thehappyhousewife.com/cooking/sweet-cornbread-whole-wheat/" target="_blank">Whole Wheat Corn Muffins</a> by The Happy Housewife <b>(kid approved)</b>. Don't let the whole wheat throw you off. These are sweet and oh so delicious! A friend of mine brought these with a meal after Logann was born and I asked for the recipe and have made them several times since! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6. Black Bean Salad. This was a combination of leftovers and trying to reproduce something I'd had at a friend's house. This particular one is black beans, corn, avocado, and feta cheese with lemon juice (can do lime too) and sea salt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7. <a href="http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/baked_brie/" target="_blank">Baked Brie</a>. So I must admit, this is the best when it's fresh out of the oven but the leftovers are still a very close second. I used a pie crust instead of a puff pastry. I still can't get the cheese to not leak out but I just all that gooey goodness on top. Red grapes and apples are my favorites to eat with this. Your favorite cracker would also be good. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please share any favorites you have. I'd love to add them to my rotation!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-3508651827226539362014-03-14T14:24:00.000-04:002014-03-14T16:15:57.543-04:00Sensitive Souls and Remembering Middle School<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My first born is my sensitive child. She's a people-pleaser like yours truly. I've known this for a while now. But just recently, I've become a bit anxious over it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's why:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She's getting to the age (four and a half) where her friends are more of a big deal. She is pretty social too and always loves having friends over to play. If she doesn't know someone, she simply calls them "friend" and follows them around like she's their shadow. She wants to be included.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was observing one day and she wanted to play a certain game with some friends. She asked three girls to play with her. The first one said "no!". </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"How bout you?" - she asked the second gal</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"No!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Ok, how bout you? - she appealed to the third child</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"No!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Her shoulders dropped slightly and she walked off and eventually found something else to do. I honestly don't think it bothered her as much (or at all) as it bothered me…because I know in the near future, it will be more bothersome to her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What did I <i>want</i> to do?? I wanted to go over and make my own appeal to her friends. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"She's a really fun girl. She will play nicely. C'mon please play with her!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">---I know her friends weren't being mean. They were simply replying like three and four year olds do when they don't want to do something. It just brought out insecurities of my own and realizing Rilynn would soon face them herself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What <i>did</i> I do? Nothing. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I left it alone. But my heart kind of sank a bit. Because I remember how much it hurt to be rejected by peers - especially when you had such a people-pleasing nature. I don't want her to get her feelings hurt. I don't want her to cry over who is her friend and who isn't. I don't want her to be made fun of. I just don't want her to go through that! But I know she will…<u>very soon</u>. It's coming. I remember middle school. And it was </span><u style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">HARD</u><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then last week I found out Rilynn was accidentally put on the five year old tball team instead of the four year old team. She loves tball but she's not exactly the MVP so I started to get anxious again…What if everybody gets upset with her because she didn't throw the ball right or run to the right base?? Oh please accept her - please be her friend still, I thought. But at her first practice, we learned she was not the least skilled of the team. The skill level for four year olds and five year olds apparently isn't much different at all. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My brother and I during the middle school years</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I guess it's just partly because of my own experiences and seeing my girls go through periods that are difficult bring back memories that I'd rather just forget. I mean, I thought I was a pretty fun kid back then. I had no clue how to dress. I still don't. And maybe I acted a bit strange sometimes. But who doesn't right??</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know I can't protect them from life. I want to. :) But I can't. They have to experience hurt and sadness and learn how to pick themselves up, know their identity is in Christ (hopefully, one day) and not in what others think, and move on. And perhaps, in Rilynn's case as in mine, learn not to take certain things so personally. All I can do is to equip them best I can to be kind and love others - different or not. And ultimately, I need to get over my own anxieties that my girls won't survive being hurt or sad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh my - three little girls. They will eventually be three teenage girls. How will they ever survive?? How will their daddy and I survive??? :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We will though. We will. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just love this picture. That is all</td></tr>
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<br />Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-38048777813797406932014-02-05T14:53:00.000-05:002014-02-05T14:53:36.766-05:00Just Be Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel like for the past four years, I've struggled to figure out what my days are supposed to look like. When do I clean up anything? When do I play with my girls? When do I need to stay home? When should I take us all out somewhere? How do I balance all of this??</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me not having a set schedule that's the same every day is <u>very</u> difficult for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there's the sad fact that, most days, I was becoming irritated with my children. I would try so hard to tell myself I wouldn't do it again. But then I would. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Lord has been so kind to me these past nine months. He's been showing me my heart. And let me tell you, it's not pretty. But He's recently been showing me that it's not me that can change myself. I cannot be upset about how I act - or react - and then strive to modify that behavior. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I TRULY want a change, it has to begin in my heart. When the change comes from there then it will naturally overflow to my actions. So I've been doing what I can to spend more time with the Lord. Communicating with Him my desire to change, reading verses whenever I can. I still don't do that as often as I'd like. But I've noticed when I have, my days are much more enjoyable for everybody. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Christ in the Chaos: How the Gospel Changes Motherhood</span></h1>
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by Kimm Crandall</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So now, I'm just trying to be mom. That's my only goal for the day. Just be mom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Listen to them. Play with them. Be ok with messes. Look at them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They're not interruptions to my to-do list every day. They are my to-do list! It - whatever "it" is - can wait. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, things in my house have to get done at some point. But a clean kitchen will only get dirty again. Laundry is never ending. And my kids won't remember that being important anyway. Eventually, stuff in the house does get done. But <u>it doesn't have to be done right when I want it done</u>.<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (letting go of this has been extremely hard even still)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thankfully, I have a husband who helps out at home. He vacuums, mops, cleans up the kitchen, does the dishes, and is a pretty good cook too. He doesn't come home and expect everything to be perfectly clean and everyone put together. Not once has he ever made me feel badly about how many times I'm still in my PJs when he gets home from work. He is a gift to me! </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He only expects what I desire - for me to just be mom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm trying to be more lighthearted at home. I used to babysit when I was a teenager and I think I was a pretty fun one at that. But man have I been a terrible one lately. :) I'm going to try to focus on the words of my two year old a bit more…it's ok.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It really is ok. All that stuff that doesn't matter. I just wanna be mom. All day. Every day.</span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-64425327002010504942014-01-12T18:44:00.000-05:002014-01-12T18:44:27.346-05:00The Time SIDS Became a Real Concern<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've always been nervous after having a baby that they would suddenly stop breathing. How many times have I passed by the bassinet or crib or peaked inside my room while they're napping to make sure their chest was appropriately rising and falling?? Too many to count! I would imagine that's the case for almost every mom - and even most dads too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nobody really has an explanation of what really and truly causes SIDS. I know there are recommendations in place to make every effort to prevent it from happening. While nervous about SIDS, I have previously pushed it to the back of my mind - mostly so I wouldn't worry, assuming something like that just wouldn't happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then on Monday night, my whole world changed in an instant. Thankfully, Logann was actually just fine. But in my mind, I truly thought she was gone. I had already begun to process what I believed to be true. Praise God it wasn't! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Logann has been more inconsistent with sleep since her teeth poked through. She had woken me up once or twice Monday night. I nursed her and we both fell asleep. Around 3am, I woke up and noticed she was nestled in my back. I knew me having my back to her wasn't <a href="http://cosleeping.nd.edu/safe-co-sleeping-guidelines/" target="_blank">the most ideal position</a>. I turned around and felt her chest to be sure she was ok. I couldn't feel it rising or falling. I nudged her a bit…nothing. I picked her up and her head flopped down. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And in one instant, I thought she was gone. I thought I was holding a shell of my baby girl. I began to feel sick, terrified, confused, guilty, devastated…all within the span of about two seconds. As I was thinking these thoughts, I jostled her a bit in one last attempt to reverse what I thought had happened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She moved.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She woke up. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSMoyyluSkwCvGL4zQamjC_SZ0EaNeLOMBarlFrnpwqrZ3aXHlLXG-1j33aW4O7uusFbQspacZToD_7gKfi3b-yuAKV8jwSThozDqBWw4uWeNSbRp0qJlaYRp-D4C3nvlSkr7HvG87ZyN/s1600/A3E7D060-2329-47E9-83AD-5ACA0A59F457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSMoyyluSkwCvGL4zQamjC_SZ0EaNeLOMBarlFrnpwqrZ3aXHlLXG-1j33aW4O7uusFbQspacZToD_7gKfi3b-yuAKV8jwSThozDqBWw4uWeNSbRp0qJlaYRp-D4C3nvlSkr7HvG87ZyN/s1600/A3E7D060-2329-47E9-83AD-5ACA0A59F457.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I held her tightly to myself and thanked God she was ok, I began to try to process what had just happened. Why didn't she wake up right away? Why did I wake up for "no reason"? (she wasn't making a sound - nobody was - and it's unusual for me to wake up like that as I tend to sleep well unless something signals me to wake). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe the Lord woke me up so I could move her to a safer position for the rest of the night? Maybe I had a bad dream I couldn't remember and I woke up after that? Maybe she has a condition I'm unaware of and I woke up to encourage her breathing pattern to continue normally again?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't know. I still don't. But after talking with several people including a doctor, it appears that she was just in a very deep sleep. And looking back, as Septtro pointed out, I may have still been half asleep myself. Perhaps I didn't check her breathing low enough on her chest so that's why I couldn't feel it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I struggled with a myriad of emotions the next day. I let Septtro know about what happened (he slept through the entire episode) and we decided it would make us both feel better to use a <a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=21910606&cp=&parentPage=search" target="_blank">co-sleeper</a>. I asked around and found one to borrow. I had a bit more peace of mind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then Friday night, it happened again. Everything happened again (she was in her co-sleeper this time). I woke up for "no reason". I felt for her breathing and felt nothing. I moved her slightly and nothing. "She's gone!", I thought once again. And all of those terrible emotions and feelings arose within me - again. This time, I yelled her name while nudging her a bit and finally, she moved - or woke up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last night I was terrified to go to bed. I was scared to wake up to the same scare I had TWICE already this week. How had I woken up on my own twice in one week during my baby's same exact deep sleep cycle? Or why? Was there some sort of underlying cause or disease or disability I should be looking into?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After speaking with a good friend who is a doctor, I felt more at ease about there being nothing to be overly concerned about. It only took 10 seconds or less for her to wake up - although if felt like an eternity. She acted normal after waking up. Her coloring looked normal (although it was dark). She nursed normally afterwards. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I cried a few times before bed last night. It didn't help that my oldest had also fallen and hit her head earlier in the day, was overly tired and weepy, and had a low grade fever.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was supposed to be able to fix it. I was supposed to be able to control it. I was supposed to know what was going on. I'm supposed to protect them. They shouldn't ever feel pain or hurt! Isn't that what moms are for? :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I knew in my mind that this was another opportunity for me to trust the Lord and surrender my control to His. This wasn't the first time I'd struggled with trust….or control - see <a href="http://www.susansene.blogspot.com/2013/08/41-weeks-and-still-cookin.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.susansene.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2013-10-03T18:26:00-04:00&max-results=50" target="_blank">here</a> (just more recent examples). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My kids are ultimately His. He ultimately is the one who watches over them and protects them. I'm sure I'm completely unaware of the many times something tragic could have happened but didn't. I am to be as wise as possible as their mother but I <i>cannot</i> control what happens. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33ZuyHaTnDbj25V1iL2lvJ0u3-zEBgSAMzkbqneFrBHKCilwaZeJXweFNGlVmXyTkdp2G_KYrTUalQWM-2dbvYQWDeBUTwSajHnY2itl_rHJN9jRFf0Gzpm_-ORJMd0pJUB8sBU3Lboux/s1600/2F811CC7-F0E1-468A-B217-DE9756DF7D9F.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33ZuyHaTnDbj25V1iL2lvJ0u3-zEBgSAMzkbqneFrBHKCilwaZeJXweFNGlVmXyTkdp2G_KYrTUalQWM-2dbvYQWDeBUTwSajHnY2itl_rHJN9jRFf0Gzpm_-ORJMd0pJUB8sBU3Lboux/s1600/2F811CC7-F0E1-468A-B217-DE9756DF7D9F.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, last night around midnight, after crying once again and releasing my fears to Septtro and the Lord, I was able to sleep. I woke up several times. Logann was fine. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. - Psalm 121:3-4</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hope and pray this fear would not continue to rise up in me. All I can do is pray and meditate on scripture. Fear is not from the Lord. And it's certainly no place to live.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Surely just as I have intended so it has happened, and just as I have planned so it will stand...For the Lord of hosts has planned, and who can frustrate it? And as for His stretched-out hand, who can turn it back?" - Isaiah 14:24,27</span></span></blockquote>
Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-67715794101191047312014-01-03T11:27:00.000-05:002014-01-03T11:27:01.151-05:00Little by Little<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have a special gift. I can work myself up over things that haven't even happened yet. It can get to the point where my heart begins to race and I feel sick. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I know, amazing huh?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think I've always been that way. I like to joke that it's genetic. But really, it's an extension of my lack of trust in the Lord. I need to live and act as if I <u>know</u> that His grace will cover my circumstances <i>when</i> they happen - and no sooner. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I grew up listening to <a href="http://patchthepirate.org/" target="_blank">Patch the Pirate</a> cassette tapes. We ended up getting them (not in cassette form though) for our girls to listen to in the car and they have really loved them! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One day, even though I know all of the songs by heart, I really paid attention to the words of one of the songs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"…great things are done one step at a time. Little by little, inch by inch. By the yard, it's hard - by the inch, what a cinch! </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Never stare up the stairs, just step up the steps. Little by little, inch by inch."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Lord spoke to me that day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Part of this special gift of mine includes only seeing how much is in front of me. No matter the task, I tend to focus on how impossible it seems to get to the end. And instead of just taking it one step at a time, all I see is </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">the insurmountable</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><b> </b></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">mountain in front of me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then yesterday, we took the girls to a bounce house. And Kaylee faced a long climb. She was technically too small and too young to do it. She kept sliding down but she would try again and again. She would look back at me for advice on what to do next. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And little by little...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She did it! I was so proud of her! And thankful to see a lesson in trust and perseverance lived out right in front of me. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffwe71v_S_5hK7GjLqPNBgUBPC1NAecvT6zGBCvBuO3eOxuxHe4l0gNbUZ4ROmdIAbVjs97sXLod9RNHpisg3p1NixxEYy5r8O251TNqLz1ZKJfKa6r3KrdcTjx2NZCgPdTISOoBuUxv4/s1600/A582F230-C6BE-40FB-97D8-CEF231CE2569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffwe71v_S_5hK7GjLqPNBgUBPC1NAecvT6zGBCvBuO3eOxuxHe4l0gNbUZ4ROmdIAbVjs97sXLod9RNHpisg3p1NixxEYy5r8O251TNqLz1ZKJfKa6r3KrdcTjx2NZCgPdTISOoBuUxv4/s640/A582F230-C6BE-40FB-97D8-CEF231CE2569.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't really do new years resolutions. But I sure am going to try to do a better job at taking things one step at a time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Happy New Year ya'll!! Step up those steps! ;)</span></div>
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-48482174815459169152013-12-12T15:31:00.004-05:002013-12-12T15:31:24.610-05:00It's the Little Things<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes the "small" gifts can be the greatest gifts. I've already <a href="http://www.susansene.blogspot.com/2013/09/five-ways-to-help-mother-of-little-ones.html" target="_blank">shared</a> a few ways I feel doing small or simple things can really make a huge impact in a mother's life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This week, God has done several things - small things I guess you might say - to strengthen my faith in Him and His goodness - and I'm so very thankful. They may seem little or not important. But to me - they're big. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been looking on Craigslist for Legos for my oldest, who is four. She loves to build with the blocks she currently has but they're larger and only one size so her creativity is a bit more limited. And I had no idea before but Legos are expensive! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enter Goodwill. The <b>exact same</b> tub of <u>PINK</u> Legos I had been searching for - $6! I frequent this Goodwill quite often and have never, ever seen Legos. Plus I went in the evening so I'm assuming they must have just put these out right before I walked in the store because surely they would't have lasted very long on the shelves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ri is gonna LOVE these!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him! - Matt 7:11</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also found some more containers for my girls' lunches (I try to pack them ahead of time - saves my sanity at lunch time). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had two and lost the top to one. This was absolutely driving me crazy to have a container with no lid. Then a friend had a stray top that fit mine - how perfect! But the next day, my two year old broke the container. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But that same night at Goodwill…found two of the exact same container for $1 in great condition. And actually, I like these better than the ones we had before. I was upset about losing the ones I had but God gave us an upgrade. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While at Goodwill I was looking for some clothes for myself. I very rarely buy anything for myself, let alone clothes. And that's not to brag - it's just honestly because I don't think about it. I'm always drawn to find the best clearance deals on kids toys and shoes and clothes. And then I'm worn out from deal-finding. Plus clothes shopping for myself isn't really very fun right now anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I found a couple of shirts at Goodwill. But honestly, I really needed pants. And I LOATHE pant shopping; especially now. I'm not back in all of my regular pants so I had been rotating between two different pairs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So yesterday I was at my neighbor's house and she remembered someone gave her some clothes but they didn't fit her. She gave them to me to take home to try. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And they were just. my. size. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Plus, a couple of the pants were a short length (which I need). On top of that, I got a cute extra purse that I had been wanting but couldn't bring myself to buy another one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lastly, this past weekend, I had gotten a few shirts at Target without trying them on. When I got home, they were definitely too tight…discouraging to say the least. I mean, they looked huge when I held them up! Let's just blame it on nursing for the time being ok? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So anyway, I ended up returning them to a different Target store and they had the SAME shirts on clearance for $3 - that's cheaper than a used shirt at Goodwill! Plus I got a pretty fantastic Captain America shirt because, well, it fit and was also $3. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. - Luke 12:7</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Verdana;">Sometimes I don't feel like all my work to save money and get the best deals is worth it. And I obviously have to use discernment in it all, but this week, I just felt like the Lord was saying "Hey, I know you try so hard to be a good steward of what you're given. And sometimes it doesn't work out how you hoped. But I really am in control. And all you can do is your best. So here ya go. Here are a few things I picked out just for you."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks be to Him! He has encouraged my heart this week and proven to me that He loves His children - even in the "small" areas.</span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-39720941819962251182013-12-01T11:11:00.002-05:002013-12-01T11:11:55.244-05:00Pressure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These three girls - man do I love them! I never would have thought the Lord would have given me a house full of girls!!! I'm just not the girliest person and I've never considered myself the greatest homemaker. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've shared with a few friends the pressure I feel as a mom to three girls. I'm the example to them of what a godly woman is. How I treat my husband, their father…how I care for my home…nourish my family…control my emotions (let's face it, girls struggle a lot more in this area). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many times I feel like I'm failing them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will they become nurturing to their families? Emotionally and spiritually?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will they have the skills to prepare meals for themselves and their (hopefully future) families?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Will they be educated to face our very confusing and ever-changing world?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will they know how to effectively and efficiently run a household?</span></div>
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'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU_YBW75jTwgJRCrxj2xGWnHPZ0gOGvFxmDcwd2FQcHuVbyvHq-F36G-pwyiT-kmtVjAYZxs1_ZO_IG5IAykdAs9QxL0dFklNFFK2EhpY-3dgUb5nRPCso6I9pESPlUB92LM9N587bxBRi/s1600/BBFBFCD5-767B-4C9A-8875-1372FCC8D5FE.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU_YBW75jTwgJRCrxj2xGWnHPZ0gOGvFxmDcwd2FQcHuVbyvHq-F36G-pwyiT-kmtVjAYZxs1_ZO_IG5IAykdAs9QxL0dFklNFFK2EhpY-3dgUb5nRPCso6I9pESPlUB92LM9N587bxBRi/s400/BBFBFCD5-767B-4C9A-8875-1372FCC8D5FE.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will they even desire to have families and children of their own? Will they see children as blessings?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will they feel brave enough to try new things and approach situations that seem bigger than them because their God is bigger than anything?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will they be able to develop relationships with others - sincere and loving relationships that will encourage their souls? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know a lot of lessons will also come from their daddy. But because they are girls and will eventually be women, a lot of what they are learning for their future is going to come directly from me. And I can tell them all day and night what they should do. But for me to actually live it out in front of them; well, that's just a bit harder. And it takes a bit more work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I feel a lot of pressure not just because I am an example to my kids but because I'm an example to my kids who will grow up to be women. And I desire so much for them!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know I will fail. I already have. And where I fail the Lord's grace prevails! But I still can't help but feel that extra pressure as a mom to three girls. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recently, the book we are reading in my Bible study encouraged my heart in this area (it's called Ezer - good read and highly recommended!). I'm realizing that I struggle with this fear and desire to control. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">****CLICK ON PICTURE TO ENLARGE****</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love to strive. My pride desires to "look good". I desire perfection from myself as well as from my children. But this is unrealistic on this side of heaven.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is SO me - I don't want to ever mess up. And while desiring to do what is right is a good thing, God has shown me that the root behind it is usually my pride and not my desire to please and honor Him. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3nmTXOquKZTQBUSP51VuT_ZIMErsztgtN33e_Bn77vEgxAefC55akSDDxR61LTtU1cELTOYfc9PU68kacM_MzU2dnV_VG4apya4FFMwk8EOXS8QRff6U3wMF9x-eUyQcSdmgQDv95nSP/s1600/62779FCF-4A90-4D65-A990-015353A3046B.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3nmTXOquKZTQBUSP51VuT_ZIMErsztgtN33e_Bn77vEgxAefC55akSDDxR61LTtU1cELTOYfc9PU68kacM_MzU2dnV_VG4apya4FFMwk8EOXS8QRff6U3wMF9x-eUyQcSdmgQDv95nSP/s400/62779FCF-4A90-4D65-A990-015353A3046B.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Through this, the Lord is showing me that my "hard work" is strangling me. It's putting this pressure on me that's not necessary. I <b>do</b> have a responsibility to my girls. I <b>am</b> to present to them the best I know how the way to live as a godly woman of God. But I cannot beat myself up every time I mess up. I can't let my pride be the reason I'm striving to do right. Because if my heart's desire is to be pleasing to the Lord, I shouldn't feel pressure to be perfect. Because I <b>will</b> mess up. And I can show my girls Christ even in those failures. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLj6HXxXrvRSC43fvFM6UZxLqnWPoFdeBX-97V2zzdijd4yklZwKQiClxEfdpxa6JfHoME_DsN1-k5dUKPdoZnZd90Aghx7Y3-q9abhakdR0KTWLgLBq9cfd4B2Fy0AIyuTVfb26SegMcj/s1600/618DC2BE-0790-451E-862B-95AC208DD17A.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLj6HXxXrvRSC43fvFM6UZxLqnWPoFdeBX-97V2zzdijd4yklZwKQiClxEfdpxa6JfHoME_DsN1-k5dUKPdoZnZd90Aghx7Y3-q9abhakdR0KTWLgLBq9cfd4B2Fy0AIyuTVfb26SegMcj/s400/618DC2BE-0790-451E-862B-95AC208DD17A.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My prayer is that I will be able to seek God continually as I parent my girls. I would love nothing more than to see them come to know Him as their Savior - and to be well-rounded citizens, of course. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And now, on a lighter note…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just love this picture. :) </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKODWEJ5-eeSMFqsG8TV-pzo5F1qfMD5gcBpb1lvrzl4uWZW4HQigWc6uf9nwITH4642iFA7_AC3ETuV5WsZqaO-TulW0wtMyPHHqaC1seASgKrSHblNO6iuzpZ-8vDdeStlMtwHlpiSF/s1600/892580E7-53C2-4AD2-8D4D-6950B69D8225.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKODWEJ5-eeSMFqsG8TV-pzo5F1qfMD5gcBpb1lvrzl4uWZW4HQigWc6uf9nwITH4642iFA7_AC3ETuV5WsZqaO-TulW0wtMyPHHqaC1seASgKrSHblNO6iuzpZ-8vDdeStlMtwHlpiSF/s400/892580E7-53C2-4AD2-8D4D-6950B69D8225.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-76362622135778179712013-11-19T15:00:00.000-05:002013-11-19T15:00:03.329-05:00Short Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Once Upon a time there was a first-born baby named Rilynn. Her mommy took monthly pictures of her beside the family dog, Suka.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNH8IPagD7cIqSSEWvd7JznVFXRuP_AhBY7fEdFOXPlfY9oIrBaNXHwPHcwxNtyKEag2K_ibnXYKh-HP1sd_r5ubKzc869lan7uTYnuUoRd0i6Ds0WDp-D1nyWRbR7jLT30KYYaOVXEt7E/s1600/B3ACA174-6DB4-4DE9-92BE-71B4183FA03F.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNH8IPagD7cIqSSEWvd7JznVFXRuP_AhBY7fEdFOXPlfY9oIrBaNXHwPHcwxNtyKEag2K_ibnXYKh-HP1sd_r5ubKzc869lan7uTYnuUoRd0i6Ds0WDp-D1nyWRbR7jLT30KYYaOVXEt7E/s640/B3ACA174-6DB4-4DE9-92BE-71B4183FA03F.PNG" width="425" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Rilynn grew and grew. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXg0cRkC8sgGVVmaHFta2pyB2aKa305mkdJ2UfdDd3ZLbWZqawaGr6LEW-1XxPGVpXe-GxexeIeHgSZfRdzQJPZD2tbvwLX7_C8HkM5HdgEh-fPwNejV7T1fTRTgEUWUGAXz9vO5HFaoz9/s1600/5970A5C5-FC76-47F3-839E-432C31E246E6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXg0cRkC8sgGVVmaHFta2pyB2aKa305mkdJ2UfdDd3ZLbWZqawaGr6LEW-1XxPGVpXe-GxexeIeHgSZfRdzQJPZD2tbvwLX7_C8HkM5HdgEh-fPwNejV7T1fTRTgEUWUGAXz9vO5HFaoz9/s640/5970A5C5-FC76-47F3-839E-432C31E246E6.JPG" width="476" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The end.</span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-28062924044585135282013-11-17T12:19:00.002-05:002013-11-17T12:19:32.833-05:00Breaking Up is Hard to Do<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I first started using cloth diapers when my oldest (now four) was just over a year old. I fell head over heals in love with it! It was so fun to find new diapers, especially fun prints. I branched out and tried several different types of diapers. And we didn't need to buy disposables.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAuUse7Ea-OMhjaQp4WNxUP-4GH6Po_naAu3UYyZFuXlcyVxZXrbE-hKEnaYI3rs6G_aCf2-AS7mz6Lx1MmEeg9awSadQPyHUzfff5BhMrJQSXBg3rlkI9SzzEBONUJJijjC-d-jnnFFG/s1600/5205910E-32AA-4CB3-ABB7-A9D0F2408469.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAuUse7Ea-OMhjaQp4WNxUP-4GH6Po_naAu3UYyZFuXlcyVxZXrbE-hKEnaYI3rs6G_aCf2-AS7mz6Lx1MmEeg9awSadQPyHUzfff5BhMrJQSXBg3rlkI9SzzEBONUJJijjC-d-jnnFFG/s400/5205910E-32AA-4CB3-ABB7-A9D0F2408469.PNG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't feel like cropping the pic - don't judge</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> When my second was born, I waited about two months to start cloth. It was much easier, I think, with babies - especially when EBF (exclusively breastfed) because there was no need to rinse. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5Mypj8cKlbhSy1m5w_maJKlEcQm5xzhVhV6iqbO2UfPtbh2JIfcxY2QdrAB2fdx3uTx1ljnZCYUIB7I9uxbsz9in6gFln5RDUBSwu4pSWv2JJxUy3SrVDZ05MfuOuYPphISUORMpK3Kh/s1600/B12AF44D-14B7-4D3C-ADE2-32E1779A90FC.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5Mypj8cKlbhSy1m5w_maJKlEcQm5xzhVhV6iqbO2UfPtbh2JIfcxY2QdrAB2fdx3uTx1ljnZCYUIB7I9uxbsz9in6gFln5RDUBSwu4pSWv2JJxUy3SrVDZ05MfuOuYPphISUORMpK3Kh/s640/B12AF44D-14B7-4D3C-ADE2-32E1779A90FC.PNG" width="426" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Last Fall, I took a break from cloth diapering. I was in my first trimester of pregnancy and not feeling so well. I originally planned to take a week off, then a month. But then it turned into until my second was potty trained (this past June). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I had planned to still use cloth with Logann. Of course I knew I needed to give myself some time. It wasn't until she was eleven weeks that I started up again. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">look at that cute diaper!!!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After a couple of days, I was done. For good. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMEr3hraCaQio9iQvW7jblmHOsEE3eAQKDXrCPQF-gj0nRuoJouyU7SWAc9kI1GP-Tn4tYXUs3zkjqgRG5rCctJNbN-Ir9P5GvuSB28PctJbdQ2Tc_TrHcrpekKBw79b8H6NFrs4iu8el/s1600/413B015F-24BC-411A-80B2-125EC699B636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMEr3hraCaQio9iQvW7jblmHOsEE3eAQKDXrCPQF-gj0nRuoJouyU7SWAc9kI1GP-Tn4tYXUs3zkjqgRG5rCctJNbN-Ir9P5GvuSB28PctJbdQ2Tc_TrHcrpekKBw79b8H6NFrs4iu8el/s320/413B015F-24BC-411A-80B2-125EC699B636.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I, of course, started making myself feel bad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- "So-and-so does it and they have just as many, or more kids" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- "You're going to spend more money now" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- "You should be able to do this. It's not as hard as you're making it out to be"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">etc etc</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But my husband was, thankfully, very supportive. And sometimes, it's worth spending a little more in one area if needed to save a momma from losing it completely right? :) Plus, I think I'm pretty good at finding deals so now I'll just be looking for diaper deals. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If anyone out there reading who cloth diapers would like to buy more, email me at susansene@yahooDOTcom and I can give you a list of what's available. I've already been able to sell a good amount which has already gone towards disposables. So that makes me feel better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But I will miss it. I mean, I won't. But I will. It truly feels like a bit of a break up. But I know now this is the right decision for me right now. </span>Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-10095613540989824502013-11-12T16:19:00.000-05:002013-11-12T16:19:05.445-05:00Emotional Rollercoaster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is it. This is when my emotions go crazy - around three months post partum. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time out - let's just take a moment to take in the fact that this little love muffin is already three months old!!? </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUxsl7bNtPYL8vdIinJfnXeKZyB_UA1bYU5p2b6cRXo14SstbW-KZlY7r13O8rUrx9FIXGoBgzLc9RnzBLlyngx0HFvxFtpCDweE429uiXCGWAI7ESpD0wuHy525NjCcdLWva0t6TatZb3/s1600/499F02D4-0B89-4C2A-9B32-2C4D9B7F71ED.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUxsl7bNtPYL8vdIinJfnXeKZyB_UA1bYU5p2b6cRXo14SstbW-KZlY7r13O8rUrx9FIXGoBgzLc9RnzBLlyngx0HFvxFtpCDweE429uiXCGWAI7ESpD0wuHy525NjCcdLWva0t6TatZb3/s400/499F02D4-0B89-4C2A-9B32-2C4D9B7F71ED.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Anyway, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I should have been more prepared I guess. But I don't feel like I am. Nothing can really prepare you for it. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I haven't had a chance to look into why this is - at least for me. I'm sure it has a lot to do with hormone levels changing. Plus the fact that this is around the time when everything <i>starts</i> to feel "normal" again. And I try to be supermom. And I get unrealistic expectations of what my days should look like. And I don't have enough sleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last week was especially hard. Everything made me want to cry. Everything seemed ten times more overwhelming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On top of these emotional struggles, Kaylee - the newest member of the middle child club - began to struggle again. She would constantly whine. She wouldn't do anything I asked her to. She would throw herself on the floor if she didn't get her way. And she was starting to scratch/poke Logann more than before. And it wasn't curious poking. It seemed obvious she was trying to process her feeling left out but she was doing it in all the wrong ways. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2OtP_7rJx0ddt8tYnQ7903eTnrvQ59CI91lq8RkfyovrBtAXflthIaKMB9Zu8t72yTgz02ZYSNiXn6HPrdFH2zYstcXayCiISTXouh5ULPrhZQSby0EieLAH4sgLlDVoZbpQLniO19M4U/s1600/C987D0AD-B349-49AA-A382-16C2CD6E5B00.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2OtP_7rJx0ddt8tYnQ7903eTnrvQ59CI91lq8RkfyovrBtAXflthIaKMB9Zu8t72yTgz02ZYSNiXn6HPrdFH2zYstcXayCiISTXouh5ULPrhZQSby0EieLAH4sgLlDVoZbpQLniO19M4U/s640/C987D0AD-B349-49AA-A382-16C2CD6E5B00.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ri took this and I didn't know until later. I'm holding Logann and Kalee is whining :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This made my already-weepy state even worse. I wanted to make it all better for her. I felt like I was failing her as her mom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then on Wednesday, my sister-in-law went into labor. It was slow at first but everything worked out wonderfully. That same morning, my mom told me they had found my grandmother fairly unresponsive in her room. IV fluids and oxygen helped perk her up. Then we found a chicken head in our backyard and another hen across the street (fox we figured since one was seen on our street that same day).</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegoZrmRhFM7SpeUEh-pH9cPTlEFUIbR3Wvk3PoouImhO816fUDL8I2Kd_xPLUO5Fm07SSvsBgm63vFg3PRfo57l-buUnYvycBRqcVYCclZZcVro7jnHHtmMO7HwTZVe6LIfIDfqxaC_Po/s1600/1066CF19-A955-4E12-AB03-517390AF2D11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegoZrmRhFM7SpeUEh-pH9cPTlEFUIbR3Wvk3PoouImhO816fUDL8I2Kd_xPLUO5Fm07SSvsBgm63vFg3PRfo57l-buUnYvycBRqcVYCclZZcVro7jnHHtmMO7HwTZVe6LIfIDfqxaC_Po/s400/1066CF19-A955-4E12-AB03-517390AF2D11.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">aint he cute? Cooper Thomas :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we went to visit GiGi</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Thursday was a little better. Friday I had a serious breakdown and called Septtro at work. I paced across my room before calling - debating whether or not I should. I mean, I should be able to handle this right? But I called. And I'm so glad I did. The rest of the day was better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday I took Kaylee out to run a few errands. She picked out a special toy at Goodwill and we got a few other fun things that day. I've started to reward her for using the potty by herself again. And I've put the girls to bed since I'm usually rocking Logann during that time. Those things have seemed to help. She needs more positive attention.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was no mistake her and I were adjusting at the same time. It forced me, once again, to rely on the strength of the Lord - to plea for his wisdom. This week has been better so far. But the emotions are still there. I can very easily feel overwhelmed at the slightest thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But we will all get through it. We have each other. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDS17nK9UD9wbhOmZx-r9q3Sg41z7521YwzD769xyzYWyd2vuTKgPjGUkxJI3oz4NcNWmFuoSAN46P1NFCCMJckL8jQGNBnIXR6tBsAiWS3D0FdUwhKwVPKVXUSmxK0JklOnJ-D4qf7o3/s1600/2FB853B7-400E-4D41-829C-A18C33D63573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDS17nK9UD9wbhOmZx-r9q3Sg41z7521YwzD769xyzYWyd2vuTKgPjGUkxJI3oz4NcNWmFuoSAN46P1NFCCMJckL8jQGNBnIXR6tBsAiWS3D0FdUwhKwVPKVXUSmxK0JklOnJ-D4qf7o3/s640/2FB853B7-400E-4D41-829C-A18C33D63573.JPG" width="476" /></a></div>
Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-45707405170743547132013-10-28T13:48:00.001-04:002013-10-28T13:48:31.777-04:00It Takes a Village<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You know the saying right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"It takes a village to raise a child"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not certain who actually came up with that quote - or when - or what exactly their intent behind it was. But after having Logann I've realized more than ever that I cannot do this by myself. I need the Lord, yes and amen. But that's not what I'm referring to here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I need a community of people. I need them. And quite honestly, they need me too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are all different...different gifts, different resources, different seasons of life. And that's all so beautiful!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wasn't around when most families lived next door to each other. Or across the street. Or even in the same household (a bit much sometimes, I'm sure). But just think what a sense of community there was! An extra pair of hands to hold a fussy baby, refill sippy cups, take out the trash, get children dressed, prepare lunch, unload the dishwasher, fold some laundry, argue and grow from one another, listen to and encourage one another. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our society is just so stinkin autonomous. People are so busy. And I get it. We all have lives. But lately I've just had to be home more (running out with three small kids isn't exactly a piece of cake). And I've realized I need others' help!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've read several articles recently about young mothers and the stresses of motherhood. "You are not alone" "Others feel the same way"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's nice I'm not the only one who feels like a psychotic mother of preschool children. But isn't there something that can be done instead of nodding my head or telling people "bless your heart", and/or simply saying prayers for those young mothers, middle-aged mothers, elderly couples with health problems, teenagers looking for approval and guidance - why don't I actually get involved??</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I do believe the church is a great way to have community. But not everybody at church lives near you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But your neighbors do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We didn't know hardly anyone - and we'd lived here for eight years. Slowly, though, we have developed relationships. And guess what?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My dear English neighbor who has grown kids and lives alone? She loves to hold babies. And come eat lunch with us. And sit at the house with my older girls while I take Logann to an appointment. She loves for us to stop by on our way back from walks and "interrupt" her work time so the girls can say hello and look at her thimble collection. She teaches us about the United Kingdom and says things like "lovely" and "cheerio". And she's a good listener. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And my pregnant neighbor up the street? She has a girl Rilynn's age. The girls play well with one another. I can have her daughter down to play while she rests, or catches up on laundry, or runs an errand or two. My girls gain a play mate. It's a win-win see? A few days later she may have my girls up for lunch while I do some house chores. Or nap. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There's an elderly couple we recently met several houses up. They have a cute dog that always runs out in the road when we walk. Because of that dog, we have gotten to know them. The husband just had triple bypass. The wife asked if my girls could call her Nanna. Before his surgery they gave us homemade pear jam and fresh peppers from their garden. Now every time we pass by and they are outside, we get to chat with each other. She recently asked about our church and I was able to invite her to ours. We exchanged phone numbers and have already texted one another. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know we aren't living in The Wonder Years era or anything. I guess what I'm saying is, I've realized that when I am intentional to look for ways to bless my community - my neighbors - it blesses my heart. We look out for each other. And I'm realizing more than ever how important that community is and how refreshing it can be to our whole family!</span></div>
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-91257735121762671912013-10-12T17:53:00.001-04:002013-10-12T17:53:56.567-04:00Family and homemade jam<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm playing catch-up a little bit here. Last weekend, Ri moved from her toddler bed to a twin trundle bed. I didn't plan for it to happen but we found a great deal on Craigslist - matched the dresser we had in there already. <br /><br />See all the stuff on her bed? I don't know how there was ever any room for her in her toddler bed! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Proof that my kids DO have some of my features: (me on left, Logann on right)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oePd8vQDk-SgNZzar08ybPHfnwKuajJpMObDA53nb1LCEzn33oHjJ1A1KrYrMYrm277igb700SrCX6gE3udAtHxHH7OEDY7V7oay5YRx222QCxJTIoC2suvoIJOn6dluoZGBP2c7Rw-o/s1600/A682F112-F814-442C-B9B2-B9AFCC5A358C.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oePd8vQDk-SgNZzar08ybPHfnwKuajJpMObDA53nb1LCEzn33oHjJ1A1KrYrMYrm277igb700SrCX6gE3udAtHxHH7OEDY7V7oay5YRx222QCxJTIoC2suvoIJOn6dluoZGBP2c7Rw-o/s400/A682F112-F814-442C-B9B2-B9AFCC5A358C.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Septtro's brother and sister came to visit last weekend. It was so fun to have them here - the girls loved having all of them here to play!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kaylee is about 8 months older than her cousin Skye but she's quite a bit smaller. Sorry girl, guess you got your momma's short genes. Beautiful lil gals!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some friends gave us a LOT of muscadine grapes. Septtro made homemade jelly!! I'm not a fan of the grapes but haven't tried the jelly yet. He and the girls love the grapes though so I'm sure this won't last long. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been trying to hard to capture that universal newborn stretch where they curl around themselves, hands behind their head. I just love it!! I haven't been able to catch it on camera yet. But I did catch a "praise Jesus" moment. :)</span></div>
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-16196549833359839222013-10-10T15:32:00.000-04:002013-10-10T15:32:30.849-04:00Mommy Guilt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You know how, no matter what you <i>do</i> accomplish, there's always a tendency to feel guilty over what <i>didn't</i> get done during the day? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had this genius idea to go around the house very briefly during nap time the other day and take pictures of what I <b>had</b> done already that day; no matter how small it may seem. Surely, after doing this, I'd be encouraged as I was likely unaware of the many small tasks I had completed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I got a load of dirty clothes into the washing machine. I had kept the kitchen counters fairly clean and decluttered. Our bed was made. And I showered AND straightened my hair. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's <u>in addition</u> to caring for the emotional and physical needs of three children during the day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should feel accomplished. And I did. For moment I felt at peace with not feeling obligated to do anything else that day except enjoy my children as much as possible. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then...it came creeping up again. That mommy guilt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I managed to get more clothes in the washing machine but I <i>still</i> hadn't folded that basket of laundry in the living room. The counter was cleared off but the dirty dishes were <i>still</i> in the sink. My bed was made but our bedroom furniture was covered in dust. And I'd showered and straightened my hair but when was the last time I'd plucked those caterpillar eyebrows?? And seriously, when is the last time you put on deodorant? Don't you smell yourself??</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I cannot catch up. It will never end. I will always have something else that needs to be done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These thoughts of guilt - this mommy guilt - it's not from the Lord. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So what's this purpose the Lord has for me then? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To embrace this...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysOXOPxJhYXx-PTobPUkzIu6_T2zZ2MP4ffrmnXeQJYpU0io3lFJh6oJDBhrhiWC0_JE2UVkb8CL8YEGWF2At-7hovJBpqYHs-wqawnIQ3o4DfVeGVJ8I_080hXhnKJYPPE0bcN2UGf7T/s1600/D7B492C8-3BA3-4078-8695-8AC638D83598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysOXOPxJhYXx-PTobPUkzIu6_T2zZ2MP4ffrmnXeQJYpU0io3lFJh6oJDBhrhiWC0_JE2UVkb8CL8YEGWF2At-7hovJBpqYHs-wqawnIQ3o4DfVeGVJ8I_080hXhnKJYPPE0bcN2UGf7T/s400/D7B492C8-3BA3-4078-8695-8AC638D83598.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And this..</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHH-QmN206uinNN_dcdUjOfvt5bnrBgO8ab1PZs_RyH6SXBqferGnDM1NC8B7rvqnb9yLt5JA-Ler1pm459XDWXM1ppVM7q_zUvyqhp3czgYBK_PBmjEQ_UbRse-LSN7kdeH1M0V-0y0D5/s1600/54946499-10D8-4261-8ABF-B2F190EDAB02.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHH-QmN206uinNN_dcdUjOfvt5bnrBgO8ab1PZs_RyH6SXBqferGnDM1NC8B7rvqnb9yLt5JA-Ler1pm459XDWXM1ppVM7q_zUvyqhp3czgYBK_PBmjEQ_UbRse-LSN7kdeH1M0V-0y0D5/s400/54946499-10D8-4261-8ABF-B2F190EDAB02.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And be ok with this. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbDS8MUk4LKc5jArGqG36zu8YNoLH-oZ2_AyNT8N_5BSh0bpo1VUf3_iiGt1S60lfSonUqLucg8yRmRl25dq6U9Xc42p6-gR0H4XdTP07AsjVwiGyUmMUGrlSEdM7gbox9kKx6aAqYBya/s1600/CFA8668E-0D48-4C78-88BB-88BCAEDD4402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbDS8MUk4LKc5jArGqG36zu8YNoLH-oZ2_AyNT8N_5BSh0bpo1VUf3_iiGt1S60lfSonUqLucg8yRmRl25dq6U9Xc42p6-gR0H4XdTP07AsjVwiGyUmMUGrlSEdM7gbox9kKx6aAqYBya/s400/CFA8668E-0D48-4C78-88BB-88BCAEDD4402.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's not easy. And I don't think it's natural for most moms. I'm still learning how. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">But he said to me, </span><span class="woj" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29015N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup>“My grace is sufficient for you, for <sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29015O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup>my power is made perfect in weakness.”</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that </span><sup class="crossreference" style="background-color: white; font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29015P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">the power of Christ may rest upon me. - 2 Cor 12:9</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I need to be mindful of those times when mommy guilt creeps in. If I am not diligent and purposeful about refocusing to my ultimate purpose, I <u>will</u> become overwhelmed very quickly. </span><br />
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<b>I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;<br />No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.</b> </blockquote>
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<b>Refrain<br />I need Thee, O I need Thee;<br />Every hour I need Thee;<br />O bless me now, my Savior,<br />I come to Thee.</b> </blockquote>
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<b>I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby;<br />Temptations lose their power when Thou art nigh.</b></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, and just in case your weary soul needs this too - whether due to your job, family, finances or that dreaded mommy guilt</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">- take a few minutes..close your eyes. And just listen to this song:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And now I think I'll lie down and nap beside my almost-9 week old baby girl...even though the dishes aren't done and there's wet laundry in the washing machine and my bed isn't made. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I *did* remember to put on deodorant today!</span><br />
Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538422062253244933.post-44725125756436339212013-10-03T18:26:00.002-04:002013-10-03T18:26:37.206-04:00Adjusting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Life with three. I'm totally outnumbered. :)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZ9ORGrATwpPx3qPClqIajCF29_FlSUjVfCCZ4bLza5IF-wO7jmh2UnFaCrX8GwMpDCP592IUid-A3UB3Nkp9IL4R5J2uGAQlGHZBvGehyoG10t_tgLJPkyL9-GP8bIBMqHJ7vSX5KGNp/s1600/78311482-C523-46BA-8313-529FCE2D27AF.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZ9ORGrATwpPx3qPClqIajCF29_FlSUjVfCCZ4bLza5IF-wO7jmh2UnFaCrX8GwMpDCP592IUid-A3UB3Nkp9IL4R5J2uGAQlGHZBvGehyoG10t_tgLJPkyL9-GP8bIBMqHJ7vSX5KGNp/s400/78311482-C523-46BA-8313-529FCE2D27AF.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I knew it wouldn't be a walk in the park. I knew I'd struggle. And I have. Most days I feel like I hold it all together pretty well. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But then I decide the dishes have to be done, and the laundry washed, dried, and sorted - right then. The toilet is showing signs of orange rings, the ceiling fans have layers of dust, where did that dead bug go that I saw an hour ago? And then there's that shoe that's been missing for a few days that I really want to find. I want to make applesauce and more homemade meals for my family. I have to nurse every two to three hours - not to mention the time in between when the baby decides not to nap when I'd like her to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I get overwhelmed. I feel like I haven't a clue what I'm doing. Where did my day go? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How do I know what to do when? Yes, housework can wait. But eventually it has to be done. And when I have a few minutes, I have to choose between sleep and chores. Septtro has been a huge help. I know in my head a clean and tidy house will never stay that way. Why does it bother me so much?<br /><br />I want to play with my girls...and read to them. I want to go on walks with them. But I feel like I'm being pulled in a million different directions. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I wish somebody could just tell me exactly what I should do each day. That'd be a whole lot easier. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've tried schedules. I've tried "loose" schedules. I've tried no schedules. My kids are still young and they need me for almost everything. And activities don't last for hours - they last for minutes and then their minds are on to something else. I feel like I'm constantly finding my new normal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I wish I could just take a few weeks and enjoy this newborn stage. An 8 week old still counts as a newborn right? Is she really already two months old??!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Will my older two remember all those days filled with their mom constantly apologizing (or not apologizing) after, once again, "having a bad attitude"? How do I help my older girls not argue so much? Can't I give them something to do so I can nurse my baby without having someone yelling or crying? Will they remember how much time they spent in front of the TV?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Please don't misunderstand. I'm thankful. And I wanted all three of these precious gifts. They are my heart.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSL_4QAADPSMVKib2cudS6HsCDJtBugHDvj4iToRrRGi407UYKPPql3WhqMkgji6xBGlFeTWn-7zaF4t3k4MQ8aqh4kUBIyA7FfvPEDD6SpxJMuF_JtKJw8elwm542D0mf0QVehkwRrV6/s1600/A4199BB8-BC98-480D-93F5-D6D2911810DA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSL_4QAADPSMVKib2cudS6HsCDJtBugHDvj4iToRrRGi407UYKPPql3WhqMkgji6xBGlFeTWn-7zaF4t3k4MQ8aqh4kUBIyA7FfvPEDD6SpxJMuF_JtKJw8elwm542D0mf0QVehkwRrV6/s400/A4199BB8-BC98-480D-93F5-D6D2911810DA.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I just feel lost. And sometimes I feel alone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm too hard on myself a lot of times. When I struggle emotionally I feel like I'm being a weenie. I should just put on my big girl undies and get it done. Suck it up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But I'm telling you, hormones are very real. And they make this all very difficult. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then she smiles.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpDgiA48KAbSI4mkyK3mmFZnz2U9Ta2QhiBNpWSxyQ9rHRmrDPbqwQHUf5UtY49ODmBUpsLaDueAie2H6jwa0VpxnIN-gDQAYMM7I_LXMou-_Mug_sg6c0O6r-CkkWPLI9Xgj1HsV2tdZ/s1600/C306B345-644B-404C-A25B-E5A98EACC77F.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpDgiA48KAbSI4mkyK3mmFZnz2U9Ta2QhiBNpWSxyQ9rHRmrDPbqwQHUf5UtY49ODmBUpsLaDueAie2H6jwa0VpxnIN-gDQAYMM7I_LXMou-_Mug_sg6c0O6r-CkkWPLI9Xgj1HsV2tdZ/s320/C306B345-644B-404C-A25B-E5A98EACC77F.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And they giggle. And tell each other "secets" (secrets for those of you who aren't fluent in toddler/preschool).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemn8GlMdbVqlGKqDpxx4SG35s0uy7o49c98b_bUGJzKvdlYhr7_OeXT6NzSg4OJJoObmHz3YY6nYsJFwUgheAYu-MUrFnUFBSrhGqfGsmHLluT0BqW3sKw0yb3vF6no7DMtKhxgE2ntr6/s1600/D1B2AEC6-3E81-4CAC-8F17-796ACF1993B7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemn8GlMdbVqlGKqDpxx4SG35s0uy7o49c98b_bUGJzKvdlYhr7_OeXT6NzSg4OJJoObmHz3YY6nYsJFwUgheAYu-MUrFnUFBSrhGqfGsmHLluT0BqW3sKw0yb3vF6no7DMtKhxgE2ntr6/s400/D1B2AEC6-3E81-4CAC-8F17-796ACF1993B7.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I smile. A real smile. And for a moment, I feel confident. I <b>can</b> do this. <br /><br />I most definitely need Jesus. Oh how I need Him! I need His word integrated into my day as much as possible....a Bible story with the girls, a song on the radio, a verse on my iphone, a text from a friend - I need it. It does miracles in my weary soul. It gives me confidence - in Him and in my abilities as a mom.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hope I never forget these little years. I want to be used to help others in the future. These are the trenches. I'm constantly battling - my emotions, my children's behavior, fighting for their souls, organizing and keeping my home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's worth it though. It's all worth it. </span><br />
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Susan Senehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07845510006503260296noreply@blogger.com0