tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91435495636004839192024-02-07T21:28:50.949-08:00justonemorethingkimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-59926594984011007312019-06-16T16:10:00.002-07:002019-06-16T16:19:04.494-07:00 Father's Day 2019<br /><br />Dad's Eulogy<br /><br /><br />How I know I had a good Dad:<br /><br /><br /><br />I will start out by referencing Jeremiah 29:11. A life verse for many people. “For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord: plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”<br /><br />This came to me in recent times as I watched my Dad decline in health. The meaning landed on me a little differently this time. It occurred to me that that must’ve been what was in Dad’s heart the day I was born. And the day my brothers were born, too, of course. Like this: For I know the plans I have for you little baby, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to teach you and protect you….plans to give you hope and a future...maybe more like this: plans to imprint your little mind with the notion that you are going to college. <br /><br /><br />What a blessing to have a Dad that took his job as a Dad seriously. Of course he loved us and I knew he did. That didn’t mean he gave us whatever we wanted...although some might say I was spoiled being the baby AND the only girl. We weren’t going to get away with anything. We were expected to tell the truth. There were consequences for lying ...see, there was this paddle. One time Roger got me in trouble for lighting a candle downstairs and I forgot about it, went off and left it burning. He could have blown it out, no harm no foul. But he wanted me to get in trouble. So, Dad called me in for a discussion. Roger was like a prosecutor pleading a case…”she could’ve burned the house down!, she shouldn’t be playing with matches!” At first I think I denied it (sealing my fate), and with all the evidence being presented(Rogers eye witness testimony)...let the paddling commence. In the last seconds I blurted out what happened to be the truth…”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” I really thought there was going to be a harsh whippin so when dad picked up the paddle I peed my pants, but I don’t think he really wanted to spank me after I apologized so he barely made contact. That’s a righteous judge for you. I think I got the softer version of Dad than the one the boys had. Nonetheless, we all had to do what we were told, we were expected to follow through on commitments….even if it was hard, even if we didn’t want to. <br /> <br /><br /><br />For example, I joined the track team as a Sophomore in high school for some strange reason. And when you don’t pick an event (hurdles, relay, dash) they will stick you in the 2-mile race, because no one really wants to do that one. THat’s the long distance run. Dad showed up for my first track meet, I came in third. I was kinda proud of that because I thought I would keel over about half way through. Honestly, I hated it. Track practice was exhausting, and I came in dead last every other meet. Like, I would be the only one left on the track for an entire lap...holding up the rest of the meet. Embarrassing. Come to find out, not everybody that started the 2 mile finished. Half the runners quit before getting their eight laps around. I had no idea, I was concentrating on keeping oxygen going to my extremities. I say all that to say this...my Dad showed up for the first track meet, and after that I wasn’t sure if he was there or not, but I didn’t want him to see me quit if he was there. Then that became something that was in me by the end of the season...I’m not stopping because I know I have to follow through with what I started.<br /><br /><br />This is getting ready to take an unexpected turn. This work ethic that I was taught kept me working and working on a terrible relationship. Twelve years and two kids later...I had to quit. I had to admit my failure, pack it up, and flee really. My Dad did not like that. Now, he didn’t condemn me, or disown me, as a matter of fact me and the boys moved in with mom and dad for a little while, reprising his role as my protector and provider. My adult reality was gut-wrenching. They tried to tell me, they tried to teach me, but there I was in the consequences of my rebellion bringing two little innocent bystanders. I was a mess. I couldn’t eat,I lost 30lbs, looked terrible. I had two part-time jobs, pre-school teacher and store clerk, then I added a third job teaching one or two nights a week to the mix. I look back at that time and identify it as the darkest time of my life. I am thankful I grew up in a home where I did not see my parents drink or smoke or use any kind of drugs. And, after all, that was one of the reasons I left my marriage. I knew I did not want to add to my pain. There wasn’t anything or anyone on God’s green earth that was helping me, though. Staying busy was burning me out. <br /><br /><br />Another part of the parental plan was about to kick in...church. Sounds simple, but the truth is mom and dad dragged us to church, you know, they made us go. I didn’t want to go to church, I didn’t want to go to school, I didn’t want to take piano lessons….some things they just make you do.<br /><br /><br /> But, just like sticking with track built a work ethic in me, going to church taught me many things, too. I think one of the messages of the church that got into my soul was that God is really the one in charge. The Creator, the alpha and omega, beginning and the end. And , the other thing...Jesus loves me...and is my Redeemer. That part about Jesus was starting to make sense. I was in a broken situation that needed to be redeemed. <br /><br /><br />A friend invited me to a church she was attending in Illinois, I didn’t mind the 45 minute drive, it made me feel better that the people I met there didn’t really know me or my situation and everything there was like a fresh start. Friendships were made, trust was built, and for some reason these people at this church didn’t think my marriage was a lost cause. They thought nothing was too hard for the Lord. And so, like it wasn’t even really my idea, they started to pray for my marriage to be restored and the assistant pastor there went after George like a shepherd would go after a lost sheep. I am not making this up! Romans 8:28 “And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”<br /><br /><br />The restoration of my marriage is really a miracle. Only God knows the level of boiling hatred I had in my heart. Believe me, this is the condensed version of that story. It was a rollercoaster ride. I left in 2001, divorced 2002 and we remarried 2006. My Dad was always in my corner...and always in George’s corner.( That actually frustrated me) He was supportive whichever way it was gonna go...divorce or reconciliation. I can appreciate that now, as I got a chance to live that out with Dad in his final days...I had to let him know that I was there to support him while he was hanging on, and I had to let him know I was ok with him passing on. Knowing that it is God that numbers our days is where I find the peace in that. (Psalm 139)<br /><br /><br />I will close with these thoughts. <br /><br />It’s good to know that the One who created my inmost being, the one who knows my thoughts, the One who ordained all my days before they came to be...is also the One who has the plans.<div>
Plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us a hope and a future. And I can just ask Him to lead me in the way everlasting.<br /><br />I think my Dad really understood those two concepts I gleaned from church: God is ultimately in charge and everybody needs a Redeemer.<br /><br /> He tried to align his plans for us with God’s plans for us, and THAT is how I know I had a good Dad.<br /><br /></div>
kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-79460856391191051722018-12-27T13:20:00.001-08:002018-12-27T13:20:12.180-08:00Time for a Change Here we are, closing out 2018, heading into 2019. The only thing I associate with 2018 is the death of my father. I watched the man die. It wasn't really peaceful. At. All. He went from his usual self to a half-comatose helpless human being in a matter of days. But then, after that...slowly dying. The death rattle they call it...horrible. Perhaps starving, definitely dehydrated. This is palliative care? Pain meds are the ONLY comfort measure? Oh, don't get me started.<br />
It definitely affected me. Traumatized more like. This leads me to the "take away" from that whole situation...<br />
"I'm not going out like that."<br />
<br />
And, if I am not going to be overweight, riddled with cancer and diabetic or whatever at age 83, I had better be on top of my game at my current age. (44)<br />
Probably should have started sooner. I might have been able to help my Dad. He was not ignorant of his health, nor did he disregard it. He used to swim, lift weights, walk, ...he USED to exercise. It got harder and harder for him to do those things when his balance, eyesight, and body started to break down. He tried to counteract that by researching and trying vitamins, supplements, and natural and homeopathic remedies. This may be the very thing that helped him survive more than eight years during which he had two different cancer diagnoses, cancer surgery and open heart surgery. But, if there was ONE thing that sabotaged all his own efforts, it would be....his DIET.<br />
<br />
The standard American diet full of processed foods, fast food, and the ass-backward advice of the national American Heart Association (and even the American Diabetes association). Erroneous recommendations, which include a significant amount of carbs and minimize the benefits of good fats. They are even pro-canola and against coconut oil! What the hell?! Even the average American is getting wise to the benefits of coconut oil! MCT's! And have you heard that you are "supposed" to eat six small meals a day to keep your metabolism revved???Where did <i>that</i> get started? Bullshit! So, sorry...this stuff makes me mad. Eating frequently only serves to trigger an insulin response...and we already have too much insulin...you can tell because the excess gets stored as fat. Aren't we one of the fattest cities in the U.S.?<br />
<br />
I know I am not a doctor, I don't have a medical degree. But, I have a brain, I know how to read and I like to research and study. Isn't that how you get any degree? Medical or otherwise...read, research, and study.<br />
I appreciate those with precise medical expertise being there for acute care and emergency situations. I also appreciate those doctors and nurses who can put two and two together and search out the truth of our sad medical crisis in this country. Pills are not always the answer.<br />
Check out Dr. Jason Fung, Dr. Mindy Pelz and Dr. Eric Berg on Youtube for some enlightening info.<br />
<br />
This has been my catalyst to add to my teaching degree. I am in the middle of a certification course to be a Holistic Health and Wellness Coach. It is quite a general class so far, and I want to specifically help people lose weight and adopt a healthy diet ...for life! <br />
In all my research so far, I realize that my usual way of eating most closely resembles the Ketogenic diet. And I have never really struggled with my weight. When I get that "extra" 10+lbs it is always directly correlated to an up-tick in my sugar/carb consumption. Also, something that I have nearly always done, and didn't know it had a name, is "intermittent fasting". That part is key, I believe. I would love to help and support as many people as I can so that they don't have to go out of this life the way my Dad did either...ya know! Reach out to me if you are interested in starting the Keto diet or Intermittent Fasting. I am not fully Keto yet, so maybe we can start it together. Happy New Year!<br />
<br />
<br />
kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-55884215948237860232018-10-23T10:24:00.000-07:002018-10-23T10:24:15.697-07:00Grief is a *bleep* I am struggling. With grief. And it makes things harder. There, I said it. There is some sort of weird pride thing inside me that doesn't want to let that out. Or, maybe I just figured it out...I am kinda slow on the up-take sometimes. It is so strange that now, of all times, I have to admit it. Life has been way more hectic than this before, I tell myself. I have had babies, toddlers, kids, jobs and stress all at the same time and functioned better than I am now. (Although still not that great.)<br />
<br />
I tell myself a lot of unhelpful things.<br />
<br />
Writing used to be one of the ways I processed things...notebooks (literal notebooks) full of writing. I was one of those nerds who loved writing essays, research papers and the like. Now, I like to read what someone else has put the thought and effort into writing because I am exhausted. But, here's goes nothin.<br />
<br />
During my Dad's last days on this earth, his day to day care was mentally and physically draining. Let me just get this off my chest, hospice care wasn't nearly as much help as I thought they would be. Don't get me wrong, though, every nurse, nurse's aide and administrator that we talked to was caring and intelligent and did their job well. The people were great. The actual physical help they employed was bare bones minimum at best. They could assess his health, tell us what to do in certain situations, prescribe meds, order supplies big and small, but me and my brother were the ones changing catheter bags, cleaning him up, moving him around via a provided hydraulic lift (even with that, maneuvering a 200lb man is challenging) giving daily meds, eventually feeding him...you get the picture. I was under the impression that they had his quality of life at the forefront of their mission, but honestly, to me, it seemed there was an unbalanced focus on pain medication.<br />
<br />
At one point, he had been prescribed oxycodone, fentanyl, atavan, and roxynol which is liquid morphine. An opioid overdose waiting to happen, I am not 100% sure that wasn't the true cause of death. I know he was indeed dying of cancer. However, it seems everyone else besides my dad feared the pain so much that we , rather, I... I can only speak for myself...I went against my gut telling me the pain medication we were to give was too much, too soon. And now he's gone. And now I have guilt.<br />
<br />
I just hated recounting the events of the day when I would get home. It was hard enough to witness his rapid decline step by step. Was it really the disease weakening him day to day, or was it the pain medication? The initial doses really made it hard for him to communicate or swallow, so he could no longer take pills or eat or drink and that might have helped him live longer. Why am I not a quick thinker??? Why am I just now getting clarity on that???<br />
It is too late.<br />
<br />
And I may be completely wrong, too, so why even torture myself?<br />
<br />
So, now I feel like I am functioning daily in a fog. I am living my life as usual, but there are no vivid details.<br />
The grief is not so strong that it is debilitating, nor is the sadness overwhelming. It is just part of my new personality. Unfortunately, joy and happiness and general life enjoyment seems to have a lower ceiling...it is all meeting in the middle. Averaging out. Bringing my average down, mind you. Oh, hey...this is sounding familiar. I think they call it depression. Well, then,...depression is a *bleep*.kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-61579637447673933722016-04-21T18:27:00.000-07:002016-04-21T18:36:05.424-07:00One Spoken Sentence<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One Spoken Sentence</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The word <i>universe </i>means
one spoken sentence. “And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there
was light. (Genesis 1:3)</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
one, true, perfect God of the universe created man in His
image(Genesis 1:27), but lacking His ultimate power. In place of
that, He totally provides all that is necessary for life to His
creation. To man, He gives free-will and, originally, only one rule
- “but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and
evil, for when you eat of it, you will surely die.” (Genesis 2:17)
How did He impart this rule? He told them. He communicated with them.
They knew each other.<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Even
though physical death became part of human destiny, Adam and Eve
managed to produce a multitude of offspring. Unfortunately, only a
noted few walked with God as their ancestors did. “Now the earth
was corrupt in God's sight and was full of violence.” (Genesis
6:11) Fewer and fewer people chose God out of their own free-will. He
floods the earth, but spares Noah and his descendants.<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A
later, noteworthy deliverance involves those who continued to
acknowledge the creator God, the Israelites. The masses got to ride
the coat-tails of the ones who continued to seek Him. Moses pressed
into God's explicit directions and led an entire people group out of
slavery. In their Exodus, they are utterly dependent on his mercy and
provision. He has to get more specific with his rules. Now, there are
ten. The very first commandment (Exodus 20:1-3) is prefaced with “I
am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land
of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me.” Just a
reminder of the most important thing. The other nine commandments are
for protection and so that life may be well. The need for these
“rules” points to our inclination toward using free-will for
selfishness instead of for worship, relationship, or obedience.
<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
At
this point, the people have rules, and eventually need rules to
follow when they break the rules, in order to reconcile with God. He
responds to an established sacrifice system in order to commune with
His people. It is costly, but He is Holy. The Temple,the Tabernacle,
the Ark of the Covenant, Feasts, Festivals, altars, garments, animal
sacrifices, offerings, I could go on...and it would still pale in
comparison to perfect righteousness. He knows.<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As
time moves on, the system becomes the focus instead of God. It
becomes a ritual of tradition. Actions motivated by the mind instead
of by the heart. The very people who claim the Creator of Heaven and
Earth as their master, adopt outside cultural icons and pagan
practices into their religion. Clamoring for a king within their
ranks instead of worshiping the King of the Universe.<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still,
there exists a continuous voice. Prophets who can hear from God.
“Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said
to me, 'Now I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint
you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and
overthrow, to build and to plant.'” (Jeremiah 1:9) They remind the
people who God is, what He can do, and that He is capable of wrath
<i>and/or </i>compassion.
“For I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and
says to you; Do not fear; I will help you.”(Isaiah 41:3)
<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Isaiah foreshadowed a new plan of reconciliation. The Messiah. The
once and for all sacrificial lamb. He would be “despised and
rejected by men” (Isaiah53:3) Interesting. He would be “pierced
for our transgressions”.(Isaiah 53:5) Ouch. Jesus is recognized and
embraced by the weary and those burdened by the law. He is scorned
and renounced by the power-hungry religious elite who are unwilling
to, ironically, acknowledge the will of God.<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
John told everyone he could. “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling
among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only who
came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”(1:14) “I have
seen and I testify that this is the Son of God.”(1:34)
<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Who
else could endure the cross? He did so without sinning, and even
forgiving those who betrayed him, insulted him, spit on him and
brutally nailed him to it. Appointed kings, anointed prophets, nor
anyone in the old testament ever came close. This is the difference
between being made in the image or being the son <i>of God. </i>
They didn't have “what it takes”. God-power!
</div>
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jesus
is the ultimate sacrifice. The old system is dead. He is the “tree
of life” (Genesis 3:22), so to speak, and your choice dictates your
eternity. Even your ability to choose is God-given. He is worthy,
mighty, holy, awesome, and He loves us all. (2 Peter 3:9) Believe it!</div>
kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-68281216019326478302016-02-19T14:05:00.000-08:002016-02-19T14:05:31.161-08:00The Gift Recently, my six year-old daughter has been really mischievous. Honestly, I feel like she is gas-lighting me. (Driving me to the brink of insanity.) Her latest incident involved using half of a brand-new bottle of bubble bath on one Barbie's hair. The highly perfumed lilac scent gave her away. The whole house was getting a buzz from the strong smell wafting out of the basement play area.<br />
<br />
She came to me complaining of feeling dizzy. She's blonde, you know. I'll leave it at that. (ha ha) Here comes the shame on me part---I was mad. Extremely upset. Probably a cumulative effect of the kitty litter fiasco from the previous day, plus all the other make-up, sharpie marker, and finger nail polish debacles. Furious, I tell you.<br />
<br />
Was I really that angry about wasted bubble bath? What is wrong with me?<br />
Fast forward---today I was bathing the youngest two girls using some of the remaining bubble bath. A 1yr. old and a 4yr. old can really enjoy a tub full of toys and suds. That made me happy.<br />
<br />
I recalled one Christmas or birthday present that I received from my friend, Crystal, while we were in elementary school. It was a "six pack" of bubble bath. They looked like soda bottles in a cardboard carton with a handle. Three of them were pink and three of them were blue. I remember how much I loved getting that gift! To me, it was a very generous gift. I was not expecting to get anything which made it even more special and memorable. What little girl wouldn't appreciate that perfect gift?!? Merely recalling the whole thing still brings me joy!<br />
<br />
As I wax introspective for a moment---I am going to say this is one of those profound things of life that help shape our personality. Because my friend's generosity brought me such joy, I was inspired to try to bring others joy through giving.<br />
<br />
Now, my analytical side comes into play. I <em>am</em> going to go on and on about bubble bath for a moment. I would <em>like</em> to say that I enjoyed many wonderful bubble-filled baths during my childhood, but I didn't. I hoarded that stuff. It was "special" and "wonderful". I only took regular baths because they were just regular days, not special days. Also, if I really peel away the layers of this tail, I would have said the gift was probably meant for a special and wonderful person, but I was neither of those. <br />
<br />
When I moved out of my childhood home, I found them covered with dust in the top of my closet. Five of them unopened. I felt a pang of regret. <strong><em>That</em></strong> was wasted bubble bath.<br />
<br />
This may be one of the reasons my girls get so many bubble baths! Yes, it is frivolous. Yes, it is a luxury, but I want them to know they are special and wonderful. In this way, the kindness of a simple elementary school gift has inadvertently made a positive impact on the next generation! <br />
<br />
I always feel like everything has to do with everything else, so I try to figure things out---especially God. Why would God do things this way or that? How is this making any sense?<br />
<br />
There is a passage of scripture that tells about a woman who broke a jar of expensive perfume open and anointed Jesus' feet. The disciples were upset because it seemed to be wasteful. Jesus silenced their objections by basically saying---this is between her and I. That perfume pouring out was extravagant. She wanted Jesus to know He was worth that to her. Of course He is.<br />
<br />
He wants us to know what we are worth to Him, as well. No more animal sacrifices or burnt offerings on the altar, no need to wait in the outskirts of the temple, or even talk to some priest. Jesus communicated to us that we are loved so much He would <em>die</em> for us .His blood extravagantly pouring out on display for all to see. "<strong>Greater</strong> <b>love</b> has <b>no</b> one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." (John 15:13 NIV)<br />
I had a hard time accepting that I was worthy of bubble bath, let alone someone willing to die for me. It's not about our perception of ourselves, though.<br />
Gifts are freely given, undeserved, ---from the heart, with love, to make us feel special and wonderful. Check out John 3:16, it's amazing!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-2942576683647771852015-11-30T20:33:00.000-08:002015-11-30T20:33:49.056-08:00Who can I blame?Who can I blame? My house is always an upside-down, inside-out hot mess. Considering I am a "homemaker", a "stay at home mom", a "housewife" (snicker...does anyone say that anymore?)...you would think there would be some degree of organization around here. <br />
<br />
Nope. Not a lot.<br />
<br />
I try to focus on the positive, like, " thank the Lord we don't have pets in the house, too." <br />
or this good point, "I guess it could be worse."<br />
<br />
It gives me some kind of strange comfort when I read books and articles about organization. First of all, they are so logical. That stuff makes sense, so I am motivated to try, try again. Some of the books I have read even go so far as to say that people are either born organized or they are not...I think I was not, but surely I could learn. Right? So I get the bins, the tubs, the labels, etc. <br />
<br />
My firstborn just recently left the nest. Although that was bittersweet, I have noticed two things that give me hope. 1. My oldest daughter has picked up the slack on the chore list. 2. The water bill is about half what it was when he lived here. (he showered and changed clothes multiple times a day)(This also translates into less laundry for me.) Yay.<br />
<br />
I have spent the last 20 years actively engaged in one OR MORE of these 4 things: pregnant, nursing a baby, diapering, or potty training...no breaks. When Millie is out of diapers, then perhaps I will be able to get somewhere. (I keep telling myself.)<br />
<br />
Until then, I think I will blame it on the kids.<br />
<br />
<br />
kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-88692580175535724382014-10-20T03:48:00.000-07:002015-11-30T18:59:33.316-08:00And then there's this... Long time, no blog...But what else am I going to do at 4:21 am when I can't sleep and dare not wake anyone up? I will make it short and force myself back to sleep after I get this off my chest.<br />
I woke up not even an hour after baby's last feeding. A sharp pain in my left brain. Things are weighing heavy on me, little things and big things. Life things.<br />
I'm a deep thinker, not a quick thinker...and this makes me too slow about getting around to doing things. So they pile up, waiting in my imaginary line for attention. Those are just the things that can be put off, not pressing matters like changing diapers, paying bills, feeding people, making sure we have clean clothes, gas in the vehicle, etc. I just run in a perpetual circle with those daily grind items.<br />
<br />
No, it is the bigger picture that is starting to close in on me, almost like my measure of gravity is increasing. Subtle, but present, and palpable only to me. Needy children, more than one at a time. Aging parents, more than one. Health crises...my mom beats breast cancer in the Spring only to have colon cancer show up in the Fall. Two vehicles down at the same time, mechanical bills to the tune of thousands of dollars. Self-imposed homeschool pressure to be further along in the textbooks. And that constant nag of "look at this messy house"...no routine, lack of organization. It was this last one that put me over the edge as I walked tentatively into the living room, partly to be careful of what I might step on, and partly to not stimulate that terrible head pain again. I felt like an overfull water balloon as I looked at the arm of my light green sofa...you know, the one with blue marker scrawlings "345 25 J L H" This is Joely's kindergarten handiwork. And it's sharpie. The tears burst forth.<br />
As I ponder my "list" of afflictions, I am reminded of the book of Job. His sufferings were far worse, and his character more noble. Even my mom is taking her impending surgery and unsure future in stride...like lets get this over with so I can get on with my life. She's 78!<br />
George recently read Romans chapter 12 to me...this is all I can remember...Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Well, I guess that is my goal for the time being.<br />
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kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-72265919280864743092013-04-11T11:19:00.001-07:002015-11-30T19:00:22.751-08:00Dry Bones "I want to see dry bones living again." This is a line from a song we sang at church recently. I think the song was called THE GREAT I AM. I may have heard this song before, but I'm not sure I have ever sung it...so it required me to really read the words. At first, I kept thinking...this is kind of a strange song...but as it was a long song...it finally spoke to me. Ugh, I realized, for one thing, I am living a dry bones existence...again.<br />
In previous times, I have led a more spirit-filled life. I seem to waffle back and forth between struggling in my self-reliance ... or really seeking God's sovereignty and relying on His direction.<br />
The other revelation I came away with was what God meant by calling himself the "I Am". Exodus 3:14 "God said to Moses I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites; I AM has sent me to you." He had to tell them that so they would trust that it was the Creator's plan that he lead them.<br />
I think about this earth, the heavens, the stars, the universe...the blade of grass...It's like God is saying I AM that blade of grass, I AM the earth, I AM the sky, I AM the air you breathe, I AM the fragrance of Spring that you smell, I AM all that you see, hear, smell, taste and touch because I AM the one who created it. And He created me...with a free will to allow Him to shape my life through the pursuit of holiness...or I can try to do it in my own power...or I can reject it altogether. <br />
I thank my parents for raising me in the faith, and that is why I did not reject Jesus, and why I am most thoroughly convinced there is a God. For it was in my darkest moments of pain and heartache that I cried out to the one true God, the only one I knew, and the only one who then answered me not only by communicating with me on a spiritual level, but manifesting in the physical realm with heat and a sensation I can only describe as pure energy. It was at that moment that I believe God filled me with the Holy Spirit which unlocked my mind to really comprehend and understand the gospel ...and it made perfect...PERFECT...sense to me. A moment of clarity with the life-changing effects of peace in my soul.<br />
I had to come to some conclusions on my own before the environment of my heart, soul and mind could handle the absolute truth ...the key was acknowledging my choices, thoughts and actions as sinful... and truly repenting. Like I said, I was raised to know right from wrong, I was basically a good person, but I just did whatever I wanted anyway. I came away from my "God experience" filled with gratitude for his mercy, gratitude for providing the sacrifice (Jesus) that would be my payment on judgement day, and for the helper (the Holy Spirit) that would keep me on the path to righteousness. This path includes blessings, protection, provision, but most notably peace in all circumstances.<br />
It was shortly after this conversion of mine...from Christianity to Christianity...that I was living for God and His purposes. It IS an abundant life, the joy that comes from simple things is amazing, but it is the peace that just makes life and all its afflictions bearable. John 15 reminds us to "remain in me as I remain in you"...unfortunately, this is where I falter...I allow life to overwhelm me, tire me out to the point where I don't even make time to connect to my lifeline. When that goes away, so goes the peace and joy, love, patience, etc. Then it's like I forget how to get back to that, or even worse, I begin to think I don't need or deserve it. <br />
In my reading this morning, I stumbled upon this verse in 1 Thessalonians 4:7 "For God did not call us to be impure, but to live a holy life." I was definitely called...so I'd better start living this holy life! Now, I know I can't live the holy life in my own power, I will just end up pursuing my own selfish desires...and that is quite a mundane existence if not wrought with struggle. I have been given the Holy Spirit...I will never forget that...so why not utilize my gift. It is apparent that I NEED it in order to not only discern what holiness is, but to achieve it on any level.<br />
Perhaps you think I'm wacko by now, perhaps you know just what I mean, either way...the God of the universe can communicate with you on a personal level that is relevant to your life and purpose...if you have never experienced that, ask Him.<br />
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Isaiah 30:21 Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it."kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-32948614365260651222013-01-04T14:03:00.000-08:002015-11-30T19:01:57.805-08:00The Door I had a really interesting dream last night...I'm not sure I can properly articulate it through words, but I will give it a whirl. Even as I think about it right now, it doesn't make for a good story. I can only say that it really made sense when I woke up.<br />
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In my dream, I was really concerned about the journey your soul takes when you die, and why it is important to believe in God, and more specifically, Jesus. I wasn't dead, I was just along for the ride. (well, you know how dreams are, I'm not sure if I was dead or not) Anyway, I was living life minding my own business, and then I knew I was on the track that takes you where you are supposed to go when you die. Ahead of me I saw a door, and off another direction was another door. The path to my door was like a glowing line. There was no path to the other door, it was just out there, like if you weren't following the line, you would just end up there. The other door was plain, with no windows, and I knew that it went into a dark room and that was it.<br />
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The door that was in front of me looked very plain, also, except it had windows. I have seen doors like it before...lots of houses have doors like this...it looked like woodgrain with three rectangular windows near the top set at an angle and one right on top of the other. I could see light behind that door because of the windows, and although I didn't get to open the door, I knew it wasn't a finite room. I knew that if I opened that door and crossed the threshold I would be whooshed up into the atmosphere... there would be other people I knew there and that didn't cause me any fear whatsoever. I woke up at this point.<br />
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See, short dream, not much story.<br />
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The take-away, I guess, is that believers pass from life <em>through </em>death into eternal life. This can actually be found in the gospel of John... <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+5:24&version=NIV1984"><strong>John 5:24</strong></a><br />
“I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be condemned; he has crossed over from <strong>death to life</strong>."<br />
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And non-believers pass from <strong>life to death</strong>...<br />
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So my contemplation begins...I know people who just absolutely do not believe in the Supernatural aspect of God or Jesus. Yes, I talk to them, they are funny, nice, intelligent, generally have a good sense of humor, posess good character traits, and perhaps some bad character traits (nose-pickers ha!). I am not ashamed of the Gospel, but I personally don't think jamming Jesus up in someone's face is the best form of evangelism. It tends to tick people off.<br />
Still, I continue to ponder, why exactly, do I think everyone needs Jesus? Well, I only know why I need Him, and I only found that out through my own personal ups, downs, ins and outs...and I can't really explain it other than to say I had a supernatural encounter with the Almighty. I do my best to live out these tenets of my faith: Love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and Love my neighbor as myself. This is not as easy as it sounds, and sometimes I fall short, that is when I need Him the most. During my personal encounter with God...I asked why I was experiencing such pain and heartache, since by most standards I was a "good person." He answered me in a similar way as in my dream... like he just put the understanding in my head, without having to hear it spoken or see it written. The invitation to commune with God is for all..."Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, <strong><em>the door</em></strong> will be opened." Matthew 7:7-8<br />
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<strong></strong><br />kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-66092232576405439232012-08-22T02:10:00.000-07:002015-11-30T19:01:25.057-08:00Back to School...Homeschool, that is! This is what I have learned from dunking my kids into public school last year.<br />
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There are some teachers and administrators who have a general disdain for homeschoolers, and some who really like them...with almost no middle ground there. I hope my children represented a good homeschool education by using their manners, being respectful to authority figures and showing kindness to their fellow students. Oh, and doing good schoolwork and getting good grades, blah blah blah.<br />
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Since my kiddos dropped into "the system" after being primarily homeschooled for the previous six years, I had my concerns about their academic success. After all, we did not grade every paper, take very many tests, or use a published curriculum for every single subject. After the first report card, however, my fears were quelled. 9th grader with A's, B's and one C...all you need to know here is that he thoroughly enjoys school...not necessarily school subjects...he just likes to go to school, he did not miss a single day, and I did not have to get him up for the bus one single time. Very responsible kid. He wanted to continue going to public high school (NTI) so we let him. One comment we got that rubbed me the wrong way was..."thank goodness he's in school". This was said after he showed off his report card at a family gathering, as if it were the school that whipped him into shape after nine weeks and the previous years of homeschooling, co-ops, daily devotions, library time, activities and etc. had nothing to do with that success. <br />
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5th grader with A's and B's..Carson being a bit shy, had the benefit of having "the nicest teacher at the school". The principal made sure to tell me all about her school being a STEM school (science, technology, engineering, math focused). I feigned being super-impressed whilst I really don't care. What good is it for a man to gain the WHOLE WORLD, yet forfeit his soul. I was just glad he was academically successful, and never had homework.<br />
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My 1st grader had no major issues (N's or check minuses or whatever) but her teacher was quite zealous about her "trouble spots". She had a list of sight words that she should "already know" from Kindergarten. It is no secret around here that Carson and Harmonie both struggled to learn to read. In fact, after countless phonics workbooks and flash cards and videos being shoved down Carson's throat, I just totally backed off all together...and lo and behold he learned to read fluently as he approached age 8. With this experience under my belt, I realized Harmonie had the same learning style (some might say difficulty) when she really struggled with letter identification and sounds early on. Sight words...out of the question. So, I had a meeting with her teacher, shared my thoughts and was sent home with a copy of the list of words, and some activities we could do at home. I did not tell her I got my teaching degree about the time she was graduating from middle school. Harmonie had quite a bit of homework, and my thoughts are...if you can't get it done in six hours...call it a day. We have things to do at home, like playing outside until it's dark, eating supper, taking a bath, and reading a story. The second half of her first grade year, she really gained momentum and her reading and writing improved dramatically AS SHE APPROACHED AGE 8.<br />
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So, my insights on this matter have formed a strong opinion that public schools push academics TOO hard on Kindergarteners and first graders...maybe even some second graders. When I went to college and learned about how kids learn...the professors always stressed that kids had their own developmental time-line and the spectrum could be pretty wide. I am keenly aware of this since my eldest could read just about any book you handed him at age 4 and the next 2 kids thought the letters F and S made the "eh" sound...eh eh ehf, eh, eh, ehs. Its all good, don't panic, it will kick in if there are other things being taught at home. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control.<br />
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<br />kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-78477480806055274272012-05-18T07:24:00.001-07:002015-11-30T19:06:29.244-08:00Cleaning Fairy, Where are you??? So, I found that book again. The one that I keep misplacing and then finding again. It is called "Organizing Your Home & Family" by Sandra Felton. I agree that this is mildly ironic and a bit amusing...if you are somebody else. If you are me...the one who is sitting at the dining room table and sees a sea of clutter between me and the front door...this is not amusing. It is actually depressing, frustrating, and enough to make a person completely overwhelmed to the point where they just decide there is no point to even dream of a clean house. <br />
Here is the SHAME ON ME section of this entry: I have blamed the mess on the kids, the ones whom I have not properly trained to clean up after themselves. I have blamed it on not having enough time, that is even funny to me as I sit here and type this. I have blamed my lack of organization and the inability to form a cleaning routine on my own upbringing...I am college educated for crying out loud, I bet I could write a book on methods of cleaning. ( I do have that published article on <a href="http://www.mops.org/">WWW.MOPS.ORG</a> search Kimberly McCool if it is still there)Surely I'm smart enough to figure out how to do it. I have also blamed my messy house on my lack of energy...there actually is much truth to that. <br />
I have analyzed this situation of mine much too much. (thus wasting more time, and inadvertently dwelling on the negative) If it is possible to develop Attention Deficit Disorder as an adult...I have...and I owe my husband a great deal of apologies for poking fun of his disorder, always asking him if he has taken his medicine when his constant motion and inability to stay in the room while talking gets on my nerves. At least his ADD comes in handy for him at work. He works on commission, so the more work he completes, the more he gets paid. What an eye opener when he does 100+ hours worth of paint jobs in a 40 hour work week. He does not waste time. He has several cars in the process of "prep, paint, polish" all day long, all week long. At the end of the day, when he says he is tired, I believe him!<br />
On the other hand, at the end of my day...the house is a wreck, dinner may or may not be started, the kids are usually in the midst of playing, napping, or making a mess...and I'm standing around saying "I'm tired". WTH So I think, what have I accomplished today, hmmm...at least one load of laundry, its clean and folded, but not put away, I'll do that after I reorganize the winter/summer bins which are lining the upstairs hall... preventing me from vacuuming, the toys about prevent me from vacuuming the downstairs, the stuff all over everywhere prevents me from dusting, sweeping, mopping, etc. Ah, there's the culprit...STUFF, ha! As much as I would like to blame it on that, it is still me...I bought the stuff! We just recently had a yard sale to get rid of some stuff, and after that my house still looked like, as I told my MIL..."a yard sale vomited inside my house". <br />
This was really just an opportunity to vent, and I know that things will change when I don't have children to nurse or potty train or educate, and in the meantime I have a wonderful friend who comes to help me non-judgmentally...thanks Deanna...and a host of wonderful friends who understand...you know who you are...and anyone who is disappointed, or doesn't like a messy house...Thank you in advance for NOT coming over.<br />
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PS. Even if you don't care about a messy house, if I don't know you're coming over, don't be surprised if nobody answers the door. ;-)kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-33689670784007042932012-02-03T12:06:00.000-08:002012-02-03T12:06:16.699-08:00teenagers...help! Trying to find the balance between mother and stalker has proved to be interesting...my plight began at the beginning of this school year. <br />
With the birth of baby #5 looming, I was not the least bit prepared for the home school year and my efforts to find fitting classes or co-ops seemed to come up short, too. We practically blind-sided the school-agers with public school "just until I could get it all together." They entered school reluctantly but with the assurance that it was short-lived.<br />
All have done well academically, and <strong><em>socially </em></strong>;-) While the younger ones are poised on the ready for homeschooling again, my oldest wants to continue @New Tech Institute. That is about as close as you can get to a private-like, small school experience in the EVSC, but, alas, it is still a regimen of classes mixed with wasted time... and supervised by people who are paid to educate children according to government standards and influence them according to their own personal baggage and beliefs. (Wonderful teachers exist , no doubt, but they don't know and love my children like I do.) More and more I have discovered that most people think we all have the same moral compass...but we don't. I'm sure teachers have some stories that would make your hair curl, only to be topped by police officers who have stories that would make you cringe at the notion you even live in the same town with people like that. <br />
Yikes! I know, I know...that's life. Here's the dilemma...there have to be good people in a school(or world) to counter balance the idiots (excuse my crudeness) and preserve some kind of normal . Can good kids influence others for good, or do they just get diluted by the status quot? This is what is playing out in real life right now. My son is experiencing success in school and with peers because he has had positive educational experiences and positive peer interaction up until this point. He enjoys school, he is motivated to achieve. He is also being confronted with many issues that have not crossed his path up until this point...drug use, promiscuity, kids who "hate God." And I am not exactly sure how that is impacting him emotionally, it's as if talking about those issues is embarrassing for him.<br />
His life is still in the pliable stage, clay that can be molded...but he also makes many decisions for himself that are proper training for adulthood. I can just hear my critics saying..."you can't shelter them from everything" no, but I can shelter them from some things, and isn't that part of my job? Is this his opportunity to be salt and light to the world, or is this opening him up to potential harm? Hmmmm...I'm not sure.<br />
kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-9011615771480722942012-01-13T14:05:00.000-08:002015-11-30T19:12:26.459-08:00I did the math... I just read an interesting blog from my friend, Kate.(<a href="http://www.mammacake.com/">www.mammacake.com</a>) She was reacting to a blurb in her son's elementary school newsletter encouraging parents to read to their children. Yay, we should read to our children. I think so, and Kate thinks so. The reaction-worthy part of that blurb was where it then began to tell which kinds of books boys would like and which type of books girls might like...stereotypically speaking. I would generally dismiss an ignorant statement and move on, but not Kate.<br />
Upon reading her somewhat visceral reaction, I realized two things.<br />
1. I am generally apathetic toward <em><strong>anything</strong></em> the school system generates.<br />
2.<strong><em> I</em></strong> was generated by the school system.<br />
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While it is frustrating that some cronies are still unwittingly forcing career paths according to gender, some efforts to encourage (or push) girls to "excel" in Math and/or Science and many heretofore male-dominated careers implies that not striving toward post-secondary education and a lofty career is a cop-out. It most certainly is not, because everyone is not THE SAME.<br />
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Case-in-point: I, too, was pushed along under the college prep umbrella... Unfortunately, the message I received was ...you can be anything you want<strong><em> if</em></strong> you just go to college, get an education, get a job with benefits, make money, save money...etc, etc, etc. Who would admit to the belief that a person's value is solely dependent on his (or her) income ??? Mother Theresa would not approve, yet I perceive this to be the prevalent message to the up and coming generations of young women(and men).<br />
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I would never discourage any of my daughters if their heart's desire was to be a rocket scientist or a dentist, but I certainly wouldn't discourage it if their heart's desire was to be a wife and mother, either. I feel like I knew deep-down I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, but it was counter-culture in my family of origin...and being a "smart kid" at school...I was guided by "counselors" to take a bunch of classes I really had no interest in or desire to take. Did I stand up for what I wanted?...no...I wasn't really sure how life worked at that point.<br />
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I crunched these numbers just for fun...<br />
In 4 years of high school, I took eight semesters, with 7 classes each...lets see that's 56 classes. Among those 56 classes I took the required English and History, PE and Government/Econ., for the upper tier classes: Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Algebra, Geometry, Analytic Geometry and Trigonometry , and a smattering of electives, mostly business-oriented. I never once took a "Study Hall" which I obviously needed but didn't have room for in my schedule. Also, there was a class called "Childhood Development" that I would have probably "enjoyed", but didn't have room in my schedule. And...out of all those classes, I can only think of ONE that I actually benefit from almost everyday...KEYBOARDING 101. Ironic.<br />
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By the way, I have a Bachelor's Degree, too...blah blah blah.<br />
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But, now that I am "just a mom", I have undue self-esteem issues. I think they stem from not being employed in the field that I was trained for and not being fully trained for what I am doing. Domestic skills are taken for granted...I didn't really learn many, and my constantly cluttered house and running in circles methods are tiresome. Here is what I do know...in case you might ask...there isn't anything I would rather do than just be here so that I can try to meet my family's needs. I'm thankful everyday that God (and my husband) values that.<br />
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<br />kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-61707269022763656842012-01-12T12:01:00.000-08:002015-11-30T19:13:46.784-08:00Does this make my butt look big?I'm starting a list of banned items. <br />
1. Archer Farms Butter Crunch Peanuts from Target<br />
2. Coca Cola placed in the freezer for exactly 76 minutes<br />
3. Bailey's French Vanilla Coffee Creamer mixed with coffee in a 1:1 ratio...basically turning it into coffee-flavored creamer<br />
4. Any flavor of Edy's ice cream<br />
5.Pringles<br />
6. Chick-Fil-A<br />
7. Chocolate Donut Balls from Donut Bank<br />
8. Any dessert baked in a 9 x 13 pan<br />
9. Thomas's brown sugar and cinnamon bagels with cream cheese<br />
...<br />
I'll have to finish this list after my pillsbury chocolate chip cookies come out of the oven...kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-90527717628216920612012-01-03T13:54:00.000-08:002015-11-30T19:15:28.642-08:00Diaper Quest Part 2So, I thought I should update my status on the whole cloth diaper bandwagon that I was on...to review, I made several cloth diapers in a few different styles hoping to succeed at one method or another. If I had to grade myself on being green, I would have to give myself a C. While I did save at least 2-6 disposable diapers a day from the landfill at first...I'm probably down to an average of using cloth only one day out of the week.<br />
Before Libby was born, I chose to make several "All In One" type diapers, 6 to be exact, and I bought 3(minus the one I lost due to it being placed on a teddy bear and thrown in a toy box), so I was working with 8 of those. I made 12 prefold diapers, returned the Gerber plastic covers, bought 2 cute waterproof covers on "Etsy" <a href="http://www.etsy.com/">www.etsy.com</a> , and made 2 waterproof covers...they don't count because I made them too small. And I bought some "Snappis"on Ebay. Lastly...I had a stash of disposables for night time, and the occasional outing.<br />
THIS IS HOW THE COOKIE CRUMBLED, SO TO SPEAK:<br />
First of all, I used disposables given to me at the hospital and brought the rest home, so I thought I should use them(this was the first concession I made). After that, I immediately went through half my supply of cloth diapers in rapid succession before I decided to start alternating between cloth and disposable (this was the second concession). When baby was all of 2 months old...she had completely outgrown the waist size of all of my diapers and covers...so for a week, I considered myself a failure and relied completely on disposables. After I bought diapers for both of the little ones on the same day, and stewing about the idea of spending nearly twenty dollars on stuff you throw away, I had an epiphany! Make extender tabs for the cloth diapers and you can still use them, dummy! (on a side note, I do not like buying trash bags because you just throw THEM away...but I haven't had any epiphanies on that one, yet.)<br />
THE VERDICT<br />
I keep forgetting to take the extenders off the All in ones before I throw them down the laundry chute, I keep misplacing the snappis to clasp the prefolds, and every now and then a cover goes MIA...when these things happen I default to the Pampers. Libby is almost 5 months old now and I have not mastered any single diapering method. As a matter of fact, I prefer disposables, but my conscience and my budget keep me in the game. :-)<br />
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<br />kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-45103455679224576092011-11-27T18:57:00.001-08:002015-11-30T19:17:17.806-08:00Blonde Moments...no offenseTo anyone else, it would be funny. To a person with a sleep deficit, hormone fluctuations, loud music and a crying baby in the background...doing something stupid that you can't blame on anyone but yourself is the tipping point into borderline insanity.<br />
At least there wasn't pain involved like the time I opened the cabinet, dropped something out, then raised up hitting my head on the corner of the cabinet that I just seconds before..opened. OUCH.<br />
This time it wasn't as disgusting as accidentally eating diaper rash cream...twice. Once, I thought it was marshmallow creme, the other time I thought it was the filling out of a donut....both times a cruel, mouth-watering, drooling disaster.<br />
No, this time I was unable to get up and walk without falling over...something was holding me back, something sinister, perhaps I was having a stroke, maybe I was too fatigued to walk....turns out I was stepping on the opposite pant leg. Ooof!kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-48184292134214393542011-11-16T14:11:00.001-08:002015-11-30T19:18:58.268-08:00Always the last to know... Many things in my little world just go right over my head. As George and I pulled up to a red light a while back, I broke the (rare) silence in the vehicle by saying..."God, I never thought I would have FIVE kids." Now, I was not meaning to be blasphemous at all. I was kind of talking to God, and George, and myself all at the same time. It was like I didn't realize how it happened, or when it all happened, or mainly why I should have this life scenario.<br />
<br />
I contemplated my situation for a long time. It's not like my plan all along was to get married and have 5 kids, Lord knows it wasn't simple like that, but that is where I am now ... having been on the convoluted path. Why did I go to college if I am a stay at home mom? I bear the title "homemaker" yet I am not a good cook, nor is the house ever spotless or even anywhere near that. Why do I like to shop and buy people stuff if I do not have an income? These things do not seem to jive.<br />
<br />
I think God gave me a little revelation because He pitied my confusion...<br />
I remembered a time as a little girl when I pretended my dolls came to life and went outside after I went to bed, so naturally, I had to make sure they were warmly dressed before I turned in for the night. Also, <br />
I remember waiting for the bus on a snowy morning and another bus-riders mom let us wait inside her house so we would not freeze. I so desperately wanted to stay with her in her house which smelled like vanilla and coffee and watch Good Morning America. In other childhood memories, when we played "school" I always had to be the teacher, AND make the snacks. I wanted to be creative and make things and sell them or give them as gifts. (Painted rocks were not profitable, BTW) I also wanted to write stories and poems and letters to people...even people in prison which my mom didn't allow. In later years when I started to earn money for, of all things, babysitting...I saved my money (the earned kind and that which I got as a gift) diligently and used my own version of "the envelope system" to budget my spending. My buying habits were very conservative, but I always had nice things, and everything I needed for sure.<br />
All this life experience couldn't have prepped me to be anything other than a care-giving, home-staying, homeschooling, cookie-baking, blog-writing, coupon-clipping MOM.<br />
Duh!<br />
<br />
<br />kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-73625750006713678852011-10-24T10:54:00.000-07:002015-11-30T19:23:28.861-08:00The Tithe Story<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Top Ten Percent<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I was
asked to write about my favorite tithing story…no problem, it is fresh in my
memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I sat down to write this
recollection, however, I felt like some explanation of a tithe needed to come
first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A simple definition: ten percent
of your income earmarked for the church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>More than that, though, it is a test of our obedience and faith, as well
as an opportunity to join in the work God is doing and being blessed by what
can happen when we allow our little droplet of money to jump into the pool of
resources destined for bigger impact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
general memory of tithing dates back to childhood, hearing and seeing my
parents (both of them worked) getting their tithe together, writing a check and
sticking it in the envelope for the offering plate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No grumbling, no worries, it was a given. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before my husband was “saved” (another story
for another time) our church attendance was sporadic and I’m pretty sure George
would not have known or cared about the “ten percent” thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were definitely living paycheck to paycheck,
and easily blowing ten percent on non-essential junk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
2002, however, lots of things changed around here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man who previously wouldn’t care to read
any book dove head first into the Holy Bible and …Dave Ramsey’s Total Money
Makeover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This combination of reference
materials meant tithing was now a part of our family’s existence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t an optional, casual thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was very important to him to tithe because his newly found faith in Christ was
changing things for the better, and God seemed to be pouring out the grace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Here’s
the story part:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We planned a trip to
Pennyrile Forest State Resort Park one weekend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We rented a cabin for 2 nights which meant we wouldn’t be at church to
drop off our tithe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>George realized this
when we were in Henderson gassing up the vehicle, so he insisted that we put
the tithe check in the mail before we go any further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, I reasoned that we could just
write a check for 2 weeks next time and call it a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said that wouldn’t represent first fruits
if we spent money on lots of other things, and even received money again before
giving to the church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said that God
would know his heart on the matter and to just mail it regardless of all the
logistics like when the church would get it, when they would cash it, etc. So, I mailed it...there was a big mailbox nearby.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Our
cabin at the park was one of several others that were occupied by an apparent
family reunion…we were the only ones on this particular stretch that “didn’t
belong.” Slightly awkward, but we just went about our fun on the paddleboats,
at the pool, walking around the lake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
second day we were there, a water pipe to all of our cabins broke, and we were
without water. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was unfortunate, but
they said they were working on it and it didn’t bother us as we were going to
Eddyville to play at Venture River Water Park that day anyway. We ate a
wonderful supper at the lodge and returned to find that we still didn’t have
water, so we took a chlorine bath at the Lodge Pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That evening…if I have my timeline correct,
they managed to get the water going again, but only to our cabin, debris was
clogging the line to all the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
reunion group was very unhappy and said they were leaving, but before they
left, they gave us quite a bit of their food, since many wouldn’t be there to
cook it or eat it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People from that
group kept bringing us food they didn’t want to have to take with them, one
person after another brought sweet corn, bread, juice, eggs, cheese, ice cream
all kinds of stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was actually much more than our family
could eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This reminded George of the
verse in Malachi where he says something like…see if I will not throw open the
floodgates and pour out so much blessing that there will not be enough room for
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a blessing indeed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we went to check out, the desk clerk apologized
for our inconvenience and gave us a percentage off discount, which was another
blessing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We call
this our tithe story because everything was just so obvious that it couldn’t be
mistaken for anything other than a lesson from God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-33527355061919137872011-10-09T20:23:00.000-07:002011-10-09T20:23:45.282-07:00Letter to my family...<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Letter to my family…<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Dear Family,<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>First of all, I love each and every one of you very, very much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am writing this letter to give you some insight on what it is like to be a mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, writing is probably my best form of communication second only to lecturing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">As a mom, I feel like it is my job to make sure you are all safe from harm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I try to make sure you are not physically injured by teaching you about safety (example: don’t touch that red hot glowing <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>burner, stay away from moving vehicles, don’t run with scissors or other sharp objects ) and personal health (you are not allowed to have 6 energy drinks because I don’t want your heart to explode, you can’t eat candy for breakfast or drink soda because it is not good for your teeth, you have to eat fruits and vegetables so that you can grow strong and be able to play hard and think clearly, etc.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I try to be vigilant about what you watch, read, listen to, or are otherwise exposed to in this world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Example: internet supervision, playstation time limits, filtered movie and TV options, and interactions with peers and friends.) These things are very important because these are the years that you are developing who you are as a person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would be irresponsible of me to let you make all of your own decisions based on your limited knowledge and life experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was raised to be a responsible person, so you can thank your grandparents for that…Anyway, I would like to take a moment to report that I am very proud of the smart, caring, responsible kids you are and that each of you have unique, wonderful personalities that often make me smile with pride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am honestly blown away by the genuine love you have for one another.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am completely impressed by the way you look out for one another’s interests and safety and general well-being. Like when I see Kyler do his chores without being told or without complaining, and when I think I’m right about something and start to yell, Kyler just calmly discusses the issue and leaves it at that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is a sign of maturity, an example of grace. Way to go, son. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I am also very humbled by <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Carson’s genuine caregiving to his younger siblings…it is a blessing to see that he has made oatmeal and fed Joely, cleaned up after her, and all the while maintains a loving attitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like to see him purposefully engage in activities with Harmonie, teach her how to do things, and when he bought her the Barbie house at a yard sale…it was his idea, his money, his gift to her because he thought she would like it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beautiful generosity.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I consider myself very lucky to have such an energetic daughter with a helpful spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being in the middle of big brothers and younger sisters has to be difficult, and I need to remember that Harmonie needs Mom-time to learn some of the more subtle ways to get along with others instead of having to be the loudest, or the best at something, or anything else that is not true to her loving, sweet, funny self.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a whiz at organizing and cleaning her room in a hurry…she can do most things in a hurry, but that doesn’t mean we have to. I just like spending time with her, wish I had more opportunities for that.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Anyone else that is a mom knows it is an exhausting job taking care of a newborn…but you all are not moms, and so let me be a little more specific.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The exhaustion comes from lack of good restorative sleep that you can only get by being able to achieve all stages of sleep without interruption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sleep is interrupted by crying to be fed, or crying to be changed, or weird baby noises that sound like irregular breathing, gagging, etc. With each one of these things, I wake up and take care of whatever it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is all normal, and I had to do this with all of you. Dad even tries to help, but the reality is I am the only one who can nurse and I might as well change her and freak out about the other stuff all by myself, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nursing a baby is very draining (no pun intended).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have never been energetic, and when I’m nursing, there is even less energy to be had. Not to mention, I have to make sure my other children and husband are fed, bathed, have clean clothes, make sure food and supplies are maintained, keep the bills paid up to date, make sure our living environment is clean (enough) and the most important thing …which is to raise you right…back to my original point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am responsible for raising you to be responsible, so you can raise your kids to be responsible, so they can raise their kids to be responsible, and so on, and so on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure you have noticed I am sluggish sometimes; some things I am supposed to do don’t get done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may not be able to help much with the newborn, or say, pay the bills, or go to the grocery, but you can help with the other stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If everyone would just consistently do ALL of their chores without complaining and without skipping the ones nobody likes. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would like for you to know that you absolutely have permission to do anything that needs to be done even if it is not your chore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there is a towel on the floor, hang it up, if there is a dirty glass on the table put it in the dishwasher or sink, if there is something sticky on the table, wipe it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here are some other “unwritten chores” that you should be doing anyway: put your shoes in the pantry or your room…not the bathroom, nor living room or the middle of any walking path, put your clean clothes away, put your dirty clothes down the chute, and take care of your dishes after you eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If everyone did their part, our home would be pretty neat, and I would be a lot less stressed and grumpy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, see, you have it within your power to make me a better mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love you guys!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">MOM<o:p></o:p></span></div>kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-22827528430807216482011-09-01T18:32:00.001-07:002011-09-01T18:32:53.093-07:00Photo Book<object width="425" height="425" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"><param name="movie" value="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshowphotobook/slideshow_pb.swf"/><param name="flashvars" value="xmlURL=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fpsdata%3FprojectGUID%3D0AZNW7ZyzZs2nvPA%26uid%3D004033396752%26size%3D0%26ts%3D1314927120000%26height%3D425%26width%3D425&size=0&ob=0&fc=0&ss=0&sb=0&ft=0"/><param name="menu" value="false"/><param name="quality" value="best"/><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"/><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"/><embed width="425" height="425" align="middle" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" name="wrapper" quality="best" menu="false" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" flashvars="xmlURL=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fpsdata%3FprojectGUID%3D0AZNW7ZyzZs2nvPA%26uid%3D004033396752%26size%3D0%26ts%3D1314927120000%26height%3D425%26width%3D425&size=0&ob=0&fc=0&ss=0&sb=0&ft=0" src="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshowphotobook/slideshow_pb.swf"></embed></object><p style="width:425px;margin-top:0;text-align:center;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0AZNW7ZyzZs2jyI&cid=SFLYOCWIDGET&eid=115">Click here to view this photo book larger</a><img width="1" height="1" border="0" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;" src="https://os.shutterfly.com/b/ss/sflyshareprod/1/H.15/111?pageName=sharekey&c1=photobook&c2=blogger" /></p>kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-39749837403980502582011-08-07T06:23:00.000-07:002015-11-30T19:38:41.687-08:00Even I can't Believe it...Diaper Quest part 1 Well, I've either gone off the deep end, or I'm finally getting the hang of domestic life. As I finished yet another "cloth diaper" that I sewed all by myself last night, I just couldn't help but think...what is this I am doing here??? <br />
I am no Martha Stewart. My family would never say I am a great cook, or housecleaner, or any good at pretty much anything to do with being a homemaker. But, the two things that I can do that, at the very least don't bother me, are 1. changing diapers (my own kids...sometimes the gag reflex happens for others) and 2. doing laundry. Seems like a logical combo for trying out cloth diapering on this baby. I have never used them with any of the other kids, so I may not be successful, but I'll give it a whirl.<br />
Of course I have extensively researched the types and costs of various cloth diapering methods and I have picked the brains of moms I know who have used them. The upfront cost is somewhat prohibitive, but if you bought a few things at a time while you were pregnant, you could be ready to go when baby comes. I, however, was not willing to pay the price ($20 plus) per diaper for something mass produced in China and sold @ Babies R Us. There are websites with handmade diapers from Work At Home Moms available, too, but the price can be high there as well. The idea of using "used" cloth diapers just didn't appeal to my current senses...when...if I made my own it wouldn't cost much at all. Next question: Can I sew? Not very well...even with a machine. Next question: Does it really matter? No...this is a diaper we are talking about here...even the beautiful, fancy, cute, modern, designer fabric ones get pooped on anyway.<br />
The easiest diaper to make is a "prefold". This is what people use for burp cloths these days. It is just a square, or rectangle rather, with a thickness down the middle. I used old receiving blankets to make a bunch of these. Cut the blanket into four pieces, then fold two of the pieces in half lengthwise, overlap them in the middle so there are equal "thirds" of material ( a 2 layer third, a 4 layer third in the middle, and a 2 layer third) then sew the edges of the thick part down, then sew all the way around the outside edge. One blanket makes 2 prefold diapers if you cut it into 4 pieces. Minimal cost here, mostly time. This diaper has to be used with a waterproof cover and it has to be pinned on, or use a snappi. A snappi is a neat little plastic thingy that grips the diaper strategically to hold it in place. (Quicker than pins for sure)<br />
Another diaper that I have made is called an "All-In-One". This is a fitted diaper that has a layer of waterproof material (PUL) inside, as well as absorbant material. I used microfiber cloths for that. I traced a stretched out disposable diaper to make the pattern for this one. I'll spare the lengthy details on exactly how to make one of these (there are online tutorials), it is kind of tricky figuring out the whole right side/ wrong side of the material, and which side your stitches will be on when you turn it right side out. Uggghhh...the first one I made with a really cute kitty cat printed flannel ended up with the print to the inside, so I had to put some random material on it to make it not look "wrong". That one has royal blue leopard print on the outside and it has been dubbed "the stupidest diaper ever" because Kyler caught my frustration with it on the video camera. Thank goodness I try to limit cursing when children are around. I have been successful with subsequent All in Ones, so I feel good about that.<br />
I have attempted to make a couple of waterproof covers out of a material called PUL. They turned out stupid, too. So, I bought some Gerber waterproof pants ... hardly a splurge @ $3.99 per pack of 2. <br />
I did make a drawstring "wet bag" out of the PUL material to put the soiled diapers in...then you just wash everything, bag and all when it is full.<br />
All in all, I think I have spent maybe $35 on material that I have actually used, the waterproof pants, elastic, thread, snaps, velcro. I don't have a large amount of finished products, but considering how many diapers babies go through in a day...if I just replace a few disposables per day with cloth, I will eventually recover my cost and then surely save money over time. Oh, and space in the landfill, too.kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-67502313672906858252011-05-19T10:04:00.000-07:002015-11-30T19:24:27.407-08:00Homeschool IS different... It is exhausting defending the right and preference for homeschooling sometimes. In one of my many opportunities to "explain" it, I think I finally hit on the right combination of words. To sum it up in one word, I would choose the word "different". Home school is different than public school. Home school is different than private school. Home school is different than parochial school. <br />
Now, to only speak for myself from this point on, I would say...we are not trying to recreate any school method at home. We don't have to, we don't want to, we don't need to. Those methods are in place because one teacher has a room full of same-age kids, doing the same thing at the same time. I took "methods" classes in college, that is where you learn classroom management, discipline and behavior modification techniques, mostly. Teaching certain material to certain kids with different learning styles is talked about, but reality dictates that you would have to figure that out as you go, based on real kids and real curriculum. Any logical person can surmise that one teacher is not going to be able to teach the same material in the same way to all kids and have a 100% success rate. They have to vary their methods, or develop a method that will efficiently encompass MOST students. Herein lies the frustration for classroom teachers...they are expected to reach all students sufficiently in each subject area during the allotted class time...with no child left behind. In order not to leave anyone behind, they may teach geared toward the slowest learner, thus slowing down the whole class. There are procedures followed in a public school because of school rules, government statutes, and requirements that fluctuate depending on who is the principal, superintendent, governor, etc. God Bless those teachers...it is challenging, I'm sure.<br />
That addresses merely <em>Academic</em> issues. Then there is everything else. How do you want your kids to dress: modestly. How do you want them to act: with character and integrity. How do you want them to speak: respectfully. How do you want them to treat other people: with kindness. A public school is definitely a showcase for the gamut of ill-behavior...fighting, cursing, promiscuity, immodest dress. I can honestly report great statistics for attendance and good behavior in our home school. Before I go on a tangent here, I don't want to get into comparing. <br />
Naturally there is going to be overlap among school methods and home school methods. We do have curriculum, we do have goals, there are assignments and field trips. Our pace, however, is not dictated by an outside entity, it is dictated by individual need. I sometimes get caught up in the comparison game..."so and so" is in Kindergarten and she can read...your daughter is in first grade and she can't. AAAAARRRRGGGHHH! That pierces my pride, because I know if I had sent my daughter to school, under the same circumstances day in and day out as "so and so", she would be able to read <em>by now</em>, too.<br />
So what. <br />
I have enjoyed her company at home, and her creativity has been stretched and utilized and provided many learning opportunities in the realm of problem solving. Her many scenario's often include constructing a store, making paper money, labeling her toys for sale, writing invitations to the grand opening (spelled phonetically, not correctly, but that's OK), or she is the librarian and gathers a collection of books. She likes to play outdoors with her siblings, imagination in full steam there, as well. Freedom is priceless.<br />
To reword my point here...no one else need worry that my kids are "behind" their public/private/parochial school peers...we are not on that track. We are not in that race. We are doing something different here, it is organic in nature, it is unfolding on its own...you cannot predict it, judge it, evaluate it. We have goals here, they are both spiritual and practical, and I don't expect everyone to agree with me, but I deserve the right to home school, just as much as others deserve the right to choose public or other schools for their kids. This is America, people have fought and died for freedoms such as these...Indiana is a very "home school-friendly" state, and that is not lost on me. I am grateful for this opportunity to educate my own children as I see fit, and I intend to revel in this particular freedom.kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-70452275666579551852011-03-17T20:24:00.000-07:002015-11-30T19:26:33.773-08:00The Unbirthday Party...or...The Anti-Party Birthday Ok...first...necessity is the mother of invention. Second, I will have to admit that No. 2 son's birthday just came out of nowhere and suprised me this year. Over the years, I have become less and less of a planner and more and more a fan of the "fly by the seat of your pants" methodology. Luckily, I function generally well under pressure.<br />
So, Monday, I realize that Carson's actual birthday is Tuesday. No weekend party planned, no sleepover, no cake ordered nor the materials to bake one...as a matter of fact, he has an orthodontist appointment scheduled that day. If that doesn't spell F U N then I don't know what does. That's right up there with the year I put new toothbrushes and socks in the Christmas stockings. <br />
Anyway...On Tuesday, between errands, I inform Carson that since this is his special day, he gets to pick anything or anyplace he wants for supper, and either bowling or a movie. I took a courtesy spin thru the parking lot of the cheap theater, not to influence, just to see if there was anything he wanted to see there. Cha-Ching...Yogi Bear is there!!! It gets better, for supper, he wants to order Papa John's Pizza and have it delivered at home...$12.42...theater tickets...$15.00 for a family of six (one free baby of course)...Back at home, I happened to have all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies...so I made some and one big one for the birthday boy...he loved it. I may be done with birthday parties forever! This was too easy.kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-44444205599529974402011-02-09T14:48:00.000-08:002011-02-09T14:48:11.300-08:00Self-Pay...Ha! This does not mean pay yourself a little something. This is what you tell the Doctor's office when they ask for your insurance card, and you don't carry insurance. Then they ask for money. Today was my first prenatal visit. And this is not my first rodeo...I know that the "Doctor's fee" is seperate from the "Hospital charges" and every little lab test has its own bill. You have to ASK for the "self-pay" discount, they don't just assume you would want it.(making a dumb face while shrugging my shoulders) So, trying to be pro-active, I want to know how much this is going to cost me. I have been on the phone all afternoon, calling various numbers that I have, only to be told I need to call a different #, where they then tell me I have to call yet another number because they don't have that information, etc., etc., I just want to plan ahead, people. I don't like to plop down $9,000 all at once!!! It seems like the world is against trying to be responsible.kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9143549563600483919.post-65714717676162476512011-02-01T11:27:00.000-08:002015-11-30T19:34:06.027-08:00Moments...Moments are fleeting...if they are good, we must burn them into our brains! I think we do this automatically as human beings because I remember really fun things from waaaaayyy back there in my childhood. I only hope my kids are doing the same. That being said, I hope I remember that being 36 isn't so bad, when I'm say 56, and being 56 is a walk in the park compared to being 76 and any age you are after that is day after day of potential to have good memories until you are gone from this earth. <br />
Note to self: Don't screw it up for everyone, Kim!!!kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796315437430153462noreply@blogger.com1