<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792</id><updated>2011-10-10T22:56:23.744-07:00</updated><category term='baptism'/><category term='Book Review'/><category term='running'/><category term='triathlon'/><category term='Bible Study'/><category term='wordless wednesday'/><category term='Children'/><category term='coffe'/><category term='traditions'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='homeschool'/><category term='Random Thoughts'/><category term='mom'/><category term='potty training'/><category term='projects'/><category term='mothering'/><category term='crochet'/><category term='contentment'/><category term='Top 10 Tuesday'/><category term='Things I Love Thursday'/><category term='Books'/><category term='Mondays'/><title type='text'>Cafe au Mommy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-2586918754477234586</id><published>2011-04-14T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T11:10:21.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Love Thursday--- A Good Book! (A Review)</title><content type='html'>I have spent a lot of time reading this year. There has been a theme lately though... kidnappings... not on purpose, just how it ended up. But, most recently I completed &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Room&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; by Emma Donoghue. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Room&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, is about precisely that, a room. A room where a woman stays with her son fathered by her kidnapper. The story starts when the boy is 5 and is told completely from his perspective. This perspective is very different from any other person in the world since his world consists of only a very tiny space. Each object has a name instead of &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; door, it is just door. It is a remarkable story of the resiliance of children and what a mother will do for her child. The boy tells the story of his very busy life, "we have thousands of things to do every morning." which includes, doing laundry, gym class, and games his mother has made up to make time pass. (this gives whole new perspective to me as a mom when I now hear my children whine, "I'M BORED!") There is routine in his day and things he looks forward to. I do not want to give away what happens, but it does not get boring. There is more to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Room&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; than just the room. I highly recommend it. I was concerned it would be hard to read as a mom, but found it just the opposite. I was so proud of this mom. She handled her situation and its extremes much better than I handle my own day to day some times. But it was also realistic. As remarkable as she was she has her faults. I give this book 5 out of 5 stars. It is a creative take on a subject that thousands of stories have been written upon. This post is submitted to &lt;a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/"&gt;Things I Love Thursday at Diaper Diaries.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-2586918754477234586?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2586918754477234586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/04/things-i-love-thursday-good-book-review.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2586918754477234586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2586918754477234586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/04/things-i-love-thursday-good-book-review.html' title='Things I Love Thursday--- A Good Book! (A Review)'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-6406652544455441144</id><published>2011-04-12T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T12:36:52.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Ten Tuesday--- Ten Ways to Know, "Mom needs a vacation!"</title><content type='html'>It has been one of those years so far, where just about everything has gone not the way planned... husband loses his job (still no job promises and it is April), son takes first trip to the ER after diving into a metal thing that is in my couch for some reason, a week later... son is really sick and I am told by two different people that he &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; be O.K. BUT if he gets any worse take him immediately to the E.R. because it could be this deadly syndrome... followed by me falling down the stairs while home a lone with all four children resulting in a fractured foot. I have handled it all with a just few tears. Mostly I have held it together. BUT every once in a while life catches up with me. And I wish I came with a warning alarm, LOOK OUT! MOM IS ABOUT TO LOSE IT!!! Here are the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Top Ten Ways to Know, Mom Needs a Vacation&lt;/span&gt;, I think I will make a copy for my children to keep on hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I spend more than an hour on the computer straight looking for places to vacation-- this one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; seem pretty obvious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I put myself in more time outs than I do my children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I call my husband at 9a.m. to ask when he is coming home from work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I am willing to load up everyone to walk to the store (since my husband has my car) to buy a coke for some needed sugar/caffeine in the middle of the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I say "yes" to just about everything my children ask because I do not feel like arguing about it (this one I will keep a secret-- I think it would be taken advantage of)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I yell at the top of my lungs, "I AM ON THE PHONE!" only to realize that I really am on the phone and the person on the phone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;may&lt;/span&gt; no longer want to be talking to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I yell again a couple of hours later like my three year old, because every once in a while I want him to understand what it is like to be screamed at ALL day long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I am looking forward to just going somewhere after my husband gets home, I talk about it, plan it all day... even if it is just the grocery store or library-- but I am going. by. myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. My children point out to me at noon that I am still in my pajamas and my hair looks kind of crazy. (this probably just adds to my need for a vacation, but probably not the best thing to say to a mom when she has been having a rough morning)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. My FAVORITE... my six year old started writing hate mail today to give her dad about why mom is such a bad mom... she later explained that she would really think if she should give it to him, but do I understand how hard it is to be home with a mom who is having a rough day and there is no dad around? YES I understand, and I have a feeling if dad were around mom would not be having quite so rough of a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is meant in good humor-- it has been a rough day for this mom, but all children are loved, laughed with and cuddled at this point, the house is quiet and tomorrow will come and a new day starts fresh. And hopefully soon a vacation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is submitted to &lt;a href="http://ohamanda.com/2011/04/12/creative-wedding-guest-books-top-ten-tuesday/"&gt;Top Ten Tuesdays at Oh Amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-6406652544455441144?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6406652544455441144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/04/top-ten-tuesday-ten-ways-to-know-mom.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6406652544455441144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6406652544455441144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/04/top-ten-tuesday-ten-ways-to-know-mom.html' title='Top Ten Tuesday--- Ten Ways to Know, &quot;Mom needs a vacation!&quot;'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-7441988415720875430</id><published>2011-04-11T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T11:46:23.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magazine Review</title><content type='html'>Last Friday, my baby had her nine month check up, and I had to tote all four kids along. We were waiting in the waiting room, for what seemed close to forever, which always seems to be the case when you want your children to be quiet. My oldest asked if she could look at a magazine, quickly followed by the next two. She came back with&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;a hunting and fishing magazine, I cannot remember the name, but quickly came to me with a look of disgust, "MOM! This magazine is about &lt;em&gt;killing&lt;/em&gt; animals." Apparently that does not go along with the new club she is starting, &lt;em&gt;"SAVE THE ANIMALS AND CHILDREN" &lt;/em&gt;So, she put it back and picked out a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Family Fun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; magazine, much more up her alley. She looked through it and found &lt;a href="http://familyfun.go.com/crafts/carton-dollhouse-1001214/"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; picture. She exclaimed that she HAD to make this. And the next day...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594397039227686034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QN6JDtX9l9A/TaNKd3-pzJI/AAAAAAAAAG0/20HMVeCWi30/s200/P4110042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;this is what she created on her own during quiet time... and her sister joined in the fun....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594397441454057266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B43V35YpKqU/TaNK1SY5JzI/AAAAAAAAAG8/L1iJzmgql_g/s200/P4110046.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, our magazine adventure was not quite over that visit, my three year old son had been viewing &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boy's Life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Which he grew tired of and went to exchange for a new one on his own, he returned with, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ladies Home Journal&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; with Lauren Graham on the cover. I look at his choice, and commented, that one has a pretty girl on it. He looks at me with his sweet smile and answers, "YES MOM! I like pretty girls!" Followed by Verity's name for her appointment, phew!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-7441988415720875430?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7441988415720875430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/04/magazine-review.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7441988415720875430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7441988415720875430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/04/magazine-review.html' title='Magazine Review'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QN6JDtX9l9A/TaNKd3-pzJI/AAAAAAAAAG0/20HMVeCWi30/s72-c/P4110042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-8102706433982876460</id><published>2011-03-15T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T06:52:14.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Ten Ways "Vacation" has changed with children</title><content type='html'>I was never one to go on a lot of vacations, but the occassional weekend away with my husband pre-kids was always so refreshing. I also have so many fond memories of vacation with my family. My mom was great at making summer camping trips the excitement of the year for me. SO, when I had children I was more than eager for a weekend or week away to relax and have fun with my children. Well, it is fun, adventurous, but definitely different. After returning from a week long vacation with my children which I did as a solo-parent, I have been thinking of all the ways "vacation" has changed for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I need a vacation from my vacation-- a solo one in complete silence and with lots of sleep preferably&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I now plan my route along McDonald's play lands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I play in the pool rather than lay by the pool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I pack a couple of books for those "down" times, and get there only to realize I will not have ANY down time and I should have saved that space for extra diapers/changes of little person clothes/snacks, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I no longer pack a suitcase and small bag for necessities, I know need an entire U-Haul to go away for a weekend, sometimes I wonder if we are going to have to choose between suitcases and children when we are trying to load up and come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I spend A LOT of money, my quick coffee or soda at the gas station suddenly turns into, 3 candy bars, juice boxes, and water. And EVERY TIME we stop it is at a gas station, and I have a hard enough time saying no to the chocolate bar, so we load up again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I no longer have any control over what we are listening to in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. People actually do say, "are we there yet?" Little people in particular. And they say it every 5 minutes-- I thought that was just in movies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. We will almost ALWAYS come back with some sickness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Home will seem AMAZING! And I am already planning the next one-- it is kind of like childbirth, once you get home, you only remember the good parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is submitted to &lt;a href="http://ohamanda.com/"&gt;Top Ten Tuesdays at Oh Amanda&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-8102706433982876460?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8102706433982876460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/top-ten-ways-vacation-has-changed-with.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8102706433982876460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8102706433982876460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/top-ten-ways-vacation-has-changed-with.html' title='Top Ten Ways &quot;Vacation&quot; has changed with children'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-6785732979931806780</id><published>2011-03-02T04:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T05:11:09.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday--Choosing Joy</title><content type='html'>I had a whole blog post written full of rants and complaints, but thankfully I got most of it out to my running partner... So instead I am choosing to be joyful, because I have SO much to be thankful for! And two of my "I'm thankful for's" are....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579466669539508322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_2NwaVpPf6Y/TW4_X-oIwGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/ZOBzOiEBKGc/s200/Anya%2Band%2BVerity%2B3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This post is linked to &lt;a href="http://www.5minutesformom.com/34626/wordless-wednesday-spring-snow/"&gt;Wordless Wednesday at 5 minutes for Mom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-6785732979931806780?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6785732979931806780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/wordless-wednesday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6785732979931806780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6785732979931806780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday--Choosing Joy'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_2NwaVpPf6Y/TW4_X-oIwGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/ZOBzOiEBKGc/s72-c/Anya%2Band%2BVerity%2B3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-6196641547298992346</id><published>2011-03-01T06:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T07:15:15.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Things I have learned from Homeschooling...</title><content type='html'>So, I started homeschooling VERY tentatively, then with a little more confidence. I had a few expectations... hopefully they would get a decent education, some stability-- we have moved A LOT, and the ability to learn without a lot of distraction.  What I did not expect was that I would learn something from it. So here it is 10 things I have learned from homeschooling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. History... I always found it boring in school. I never listened very well, and I am learning, &lt;em&gt;actually learning&lt;/em&gt; SO much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. That learning takes time. I always thought I would sit down and teach my kids. I knew it would be hard at times, but I thought it would just work. They are smart kids, so why not? Well, it takes a lot longer to learn some things. I actually should have clued in years ago when my daughter, who was two at the time, was trying to learn her colors. I drilled her all day, she just could not get it. How? She had learned to count to 10 in five minutes. But colors did not work. And that is how learning is. There is no formula for how long/when someone will learn a new skill And sometimes learning takes time. Sometimes I need to pack it up and come back in a week or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Learning is fun. There is so much to learn and kids are naturally inquisitive. They want to learn and try new things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Learning is not always fun. Sometimes it is just hard work. And that is OK. Kids need to learn, just like adults, that some things are worth working at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do not push it. I started my oldest at 4 in Kindergarten. I was determined to make her read. And I did it, but it was not pretty. And I should have waited. I should have let her play more. Kids only have so long to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Socialization is natural. It is what everyone worries about with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;homeschooled&lt;/span&gt; kids-- it is what I worried about keeping my kids home. Will they be able to function in a social situation? We are in gymnastics, gym classes, Bible Studies, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;AWANA&lt;/span&gt;, there is rarely a day my children do not interact with someone, and they completely get how to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  It might secretly have become my excuse to not clean my house:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Each child is different.  My children all look different, particularly my two oldest girls. And I have learned that they learn different, as different as they look... so just when I think I have it figured it out, it all changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  I actually like my kids more, the more time I spend with them, usually. I am one of those odd people that likes people more the more I am with them, not the absence makes the heart grow fonder types. I tried working when my oldest was one, and I came home wanting NOTHING to do with her, even though I had been away from her for over eight hours. I would come home and put on the TV and sit, and ignore her. I definitely am tired at the end of the day, and I am sure I would love my kids a lot even if they were gone, and I would get used to it, but I am thankful I do get to spend so much time with them. I also have found that spending the day with them all day allows me to make amends when I am not liking them more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I have learned that I am never going to make everyone happy, but so far it is REALLY working for my family, and so we will keep doing it, until it stops working.  This is the one thing in my life I am really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; with leaving up to a year to year decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is personal -- not to say homeschooling is right or wrong, just my experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is linked up to to &lt;a href="http://ohamanda.com/"&gt;Top Ten Tuesdays at Oh Amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-6196641547298992346?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6196641547298992346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/ten-things-i-have-learned-from.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6196641547298992346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6196641547298992346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/ten-things-i-have-learned-from.html' title='Ten Things I have learned from Homeschooling...'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-7038279783891866691</id><published>2011-02-21T16:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T17:12:35.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wise Beyond His Years</title><content type='html'>My life seems to continue to be fuller than I thought. I am often hurrying through life. Then, suddenly some little bit of wisdom shows up from these little people I am living life with. This time it came from my 3 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made a visit to my hometown, it has been over a year since I have been there, even though it is just 2 hours away. Sometimes, it is just easier to stay put. I have tried a couple of times to make it up there, but something has come up.. sickness, snowstorm, more sickness. But, this time as a snowstorm threatened this trip one more time, I left early to make it up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made a quick stop at my grandma's house. Just to say a brief, "Hi." That is when it happened. My little boy, rambunctious and 'all boy' JUMPED on his 80 something year old great-grandma's lap. He sat there looking intently at her hands. She seemed a bit shy about it, saying, "I know they are old hands." And they are, aged with years of living a really good life. He seemed so fascinated though, tracing the lines and rubbing them. And then he said it, he looked at me with a look of joy, "MOM! Come see them, they are BEAUTIFUL!" How, at the age of 3 does he know what it takes so many of us so long to learn, with age comes beauty. And that is what my grandma is, beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-7038279783891866691?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7038279783891866691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/wise-beyond-years.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7038279783891866691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7038279783891866691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/wise-beyond-years.html' title='Wise Beyond His Years'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-6348742854635991441</id><published>2011-02-15T05:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T06:58:54.111-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Ten Things I Said I Would Never Do...</title><content type='html'>I have this list in my head, this idea of who I want to be and what I want to do with my life. Amazingly there are some things I said I would never do with my life. My husband would probably find it hard to believe since I want to do just about EVERYTHING! But... this is the list of things I would NEVER do&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Homeschool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am now on year four of homeschooling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Have 4 children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Two sounded about right-- well until I had one, then I wanted 12, so 4 seems like a good compromise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3.  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bake my own bread&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have not bought a loaf of bread in several months, and I have an excellent whole wheat bread recipe if interested&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sew Clothes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Have you seen project runway?!?! How can I not! (this one I am not that good at though- I hate following directions)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;5. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can fruits and Vegetables...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This one has stuck, and I think it will, BUT I did make my first batch of strawberry jam last summer and CANNOT wait to do it again this summer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;6. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Be a Homebody-- "I am a Stay-at-home mom that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; really stay home"...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I honestly no longer feel trapped if I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; have a car (unless I accidentally clip my daughters finger tip in effort to clip her finger nail)-- I LOVE to be home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;7.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Drive a White Car....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This one I cannot help, I do not think I was clear in my, "go ahead I trust you with the car situation" when sending him off to get a car, because in my head, people just do not buy white cars, well, unless you are my husband.. we have 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;8. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Write a Blog...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;... it just happened, actually, there is a long story behind blogging, and I still fight myself over this one about every two weeks, but I am still doing it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;9. &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Read Blogs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;...again, it just happened, BUT there are so many interesting people out there that can write, craft, story tell better than I... with different life experiences and SO many book recommendations. I had to give this one up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;10. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Grow My hair to my waist and start wearing jumpers...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;not that there is anything wrong with this, but I really have to draw a line somewhere, so if you see me start doing this, cut off my hair, and take me shopping, PLEASE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As you can see I have stuck to hardly any of my "things I will never do list," unfortunately my "things I want to do list," is about the opposite... oh well, I need something to aim for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This post is linked to Top Ten Tuesdays at &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://ohamanda.com/"&gt;Oh Amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-6348742854635991441?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6348742854635991441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/top-ten-things-i-said-i-would-never-do.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6348742854635991441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6348742854635991441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/top-ten-things-i-said-i-would-never-do.html' title='Top Ten Things I Said I Would Never Do...'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-1206458317121418868</id><published>2011-02-14T03:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T04:06:08.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss Karis Rose....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My little girl turns 6 today....An amazing Valentine's Day present.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She came into this world full of life... with a heartbeat of 199 bpm and doing somersaults on her birthday-- the nurses commented, "Some babies are just really excited to be born." She was excited in theory, not in timing.. my longest time in the hospital. Full of energy and doing things her own way is how she has lived her life from that day until this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She came into the world looking nothing like my first little girl. I was actually afraid somehow they had switched my baby without me seeing. My oldest daughter being so fair with big blue eyes. And now this tan little baby with dark hair and dark eyes. She is mine. She stands out in our family to this day, in a family of four, she is the only one of my children that looks this way. And she can hold her own. She is beautiful, smart, funny, entertaining, dramatic, sweet, opinionated, wild and kind. I am so thankful God gave her to our family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday my little Miss Karis Rose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573514615815987266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ie1ziqoIU20/TVkaA2oo4EI/AAAAAAAAAGk/UgbAMs8sd7c/s200/Karis%2B2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-1206458317121418868?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1206458317121418868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/miss-karis-rose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1206458317121418868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1206458317121418868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/miss-karis-rose.html' title='Miss Karis Rose....'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ie1ziqoIU20/TVkaA2oo4EI/AAAAAAAAAGk/UgbAMs8sd7c/s72-c/Karis%2B2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-7370959451199072489</id><published>2011-02-10T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T17:33:07.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Love Thursday--- Sorrow</title><content type='html'>Now before you think I am one of those people that loves to throw myself a pity party full of chocolate and red wine-- which does sound good sometimes. I am thinking more along the lines of a sermon I heard a couple of weeks ago. At church one of the men was giving a sermon on-- actually I have no idea... sitting in church with a seven month old rarely allows me to hear a whole sermon. But one part did stick out. He talked about how we are so quick to hurry up to the blessing. To get to the good part. The, Romans 8:28 part, the "&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;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&lt;/span&gt;." part. And we forget to wait in the sorrow part and let God minister to us there. There is something incredibly vulnerable about being completely out of control of a situation. Of sitting and crying out to God. I told my husband that I am a much better "Christian" when things are good. I LOVE to thank God for his goodness in my life. And I am really good at recognizing where all of it comes from. I am aware of my unworthiness and good at recognizing that all I have is from God. I can remember walking with my husband when we were newlyweds. We would walk for hours just thanking God for his goodness to us! But when things go wrong. I tend to "micro-manage." I do not wait on God. I do not take time to sit in His presence and be loved and held. So this week I am committed to sitting in sorrow-- not sorrow without hope. But sorrow. sitting and lamenting-- Sitting in the midst of our situation that is so much bigger than me-- and letting God take care of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post was submitted to &lt;a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Things I Love Thursday at The Diaper Diaries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-7370959451199072489?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7370959451199072489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/things-i-love-thursday-sorrow.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7370959451199072489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7370959451199072489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/things-i-love-thursday-sorrow.html' title='Things I Love Thursday--- Sorrow'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-5988447529502559382</id><published>2011-02-04T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T09:24:51.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of My Life</title><content type='html'>So, last night at midnight we were awoken to my little boy struggling to breathe and coughing like a seal. He often gets croup, but rarely does he sound like he can't breathe when he is not coughing. And he is crying hysterically. So I did what any normal mom would do, I wrapped him in a coat and headed outside since he is terrified of showers and I have heard crying can make it worse. He did not cry that I was bringing him outside, he just thought I was weird. He looked at me and said, "mom, can we go inside now?" So, we went inside, and tried the shower BUT he did panic hysterically. So, he decided to lay on the couch with his daddy for a while and calm down. We were trying to wait til morning to see if he got any better. We made it until 6a.m. with hourly checks to ensure he was still breathing. Then he came in my room still sounding like an old smoker. I decided we would make it to the walk in clinic at 7 to try to miss any busyness. I loaded up the car with my precious little boy, his blankie, monster guy and we started the 25 minute drive to the doctor. The whole time I am second guessing myself because he is starting to babble and talk with me and sounding a WHOLE lot better.  We arrive at the doctor and the lady at the front desk starts asking me these really hard questions like, "When is your sons birthday?" and "What is your phone number?" On a normal day this would not be a problem for me, but being sleep deprived I honestly had no answers for her. It took me three tries to get his birthday right and I never did figure out my phone number. I had to ask her to look up my phone number on her computer. I had tried giving her my sister's number and my husbands, but my number was gone from my head. Once I got all that out and was completely embarrassed we sat for an hour and a half waiting for the doctor. At this point my son is RUNNING around the waiting room, and I am thinking why on earth did I bring him to the doctor in the first place. We finally get called in and are told, "Yep, sounds like croup. But he sounds fine now." "If it happens again, put him in the bathroom with steam" (I mention that my son is terrified of showers-- and the doctor just looks at me like I am crazy) and we are sent home. And my entire day is now thrown off.&lt;br /&gt;So, tonight the plan is if he starts coughing to send him and his dad out for a McDonalds or Taco Bell run and some guy time at 1 in the morning, in hopes that the cold night air will clear him up and they can spend some time bonding.&lt;br /&gt;And so it is, the story of my life... one thing after another, never going quite as planned, to make up the days of my life... But I wouldn't change it for the world!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-5988447529502559382?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5988447529502559382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/story-of-my-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/5988447529502559382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/5988447529502559382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/story-of-my-life.html' title='The Story of My Life'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-3714146430572457148</id><published>2011-02-02T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T13:22:37.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowed In!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We got a lot of snow! I have shoveled for a total of 3 hours, and it is not done (the shoveling) but we are completely out of places to put our snow!!! Here are a few pictures!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569204494023695810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TUnJ-vvKncI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/sVrlMsYN_Vw/s200/Winter%2B2011%2B110.JPG" border="0" /&gt;our car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569203234530603074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TUnI1bwnMEI/AAAAAAAAAGI/79LTl2vspUI/s200/Winter%2B2011%2B112.JPG" border="0" /&gt;our driveway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569205452460949826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TUnK2iMagUI/AAAAAAAAAGY/hMYLvmQNasw/s200/Winter%2B2011%2B109.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;our backyard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-3714146430572457148?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3714146430572457148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/snowed-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3714146430572457148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3714146430572457148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/snowed-in.html' title='Snowed In!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TUnJ-vvKncI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/sVrlMsYN_Vw/s72-c/Winter%2B2011%2B110.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-282114503433630832</id><published>2011-02-01T06:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T11:28:43.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Snowball Fight</title><content type='html'>I haven't written on my blog in a while, and it is because I have been in the middle of a snowball fight. Well, that is what it seems like. It has been a couple of weeks full of out of the blue stinging snowballs flying at my face and I cannot seem to dodge them no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are all these little things that keep happening, some not so little that come out of nowhere and hit me in the face, knocking me down. Sometimes it seems impossible to get up, sometimes I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; want to get up because I know another one is coming. I cannot seem to dodge them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One more minor incident involved clipping my daughter's fingernails, which ended up with me clipping her actual finger, which led to three paper towels covered in blood flowing from her little finger for 20 minutes, a baby screaming and a mom crying. I had no car, four children, and, thankfully, some other moms to help me when I could not really think straight, and one mom to take us all to the doctor. &lt;/p&gt;Just when I had dried my face, I found my five year old explaining to me that she was at a church group we attend during the week, and a little girl who was her friend told her they were no longer friends. My precious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Karis&lt;/span&gt;, who you have to love if you know her, was not angry, just confused. In a sweet little voice she explained it to me, "Mom, I thought I had three friends, but she said we are not friends, so I guess I just have two." She said it with a twinge of disappointment, but mostly just confusion and matter of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;factness&lt;/span&gt;. She so wants friends, and really struggles making them. I think it might be that she is second and a girl and has always relied on her sister for friends. She kind of marches to the beat of her own drum, but I wanted to hold her and shield her from a snowball that stings when you learn that the world is not fair. Telling her she is precious and loving her was what I could do at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, picking my family up again we were bombarded with snowballs. The kind that make you cry they sting so bad. I cant really go into the detail of two that have hit us hardest, well me the hardest, because I want to respect privacy, but they have left me wanting to cry and scream and throw snowballs back, but I have nowhere to throw them. And then I start to feel like it is my fault, maybe I deserved it, maybe I messed up somehow. I know in my heart it is not my fault, but when everything starts to crumble, when all you planned starts falling apart and on top of it you are being attacked, it makes it really hard to see reality. I am working on praying and seeing how God is going to work this out. And I am going to tuck my my family in tight and try keep them safe from this battle in which we seem stuck in the middle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-282114503433630832?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/282114503433630832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/snowball-fight.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/282114503433630832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/282114503433630832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/02/snowball-fight.html' title='The Snowball Fight'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-3279806706357876418</id><published>2011-01-15T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T14:02:02.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Superhero Running</title><content type='html'>This morning I ran 7 miles. It is nothing remarkable in the world of running. BUT it was one of those runs that was so horrible, you hold onto it for weeks, and keep referring back to when you run and think, "man, at least this run wasn't as bad as that Saturday one." It is also one of those runs that you finish and you think, "I DID IT! and I DID NOT DIE" because that is all I was thinking during this run. My friend Tammy reminded me of the phrase several weeks ago, the one that says, "What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. " Well, my mantra through the run this morning was, "I am not dead, I must be getting stronger!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't an awful day, probably 20 degrees, which is warm in WI for winter, but the wind off Lake Michigan was brutal. And the icy slush puddles on the road were freezing. I wore running tights with regular work out pants over. My pants by mile 2 were dragging in the slush, I kept looking to see who was running so loud behind me, no one, it was me. So, I dropped back, I did not stop running, I just slowed down. And at mile 3.5 when it was time to turn around I announced I was taking my pants off. Which caused some alarm I think to the men running with us. One shouted, but there is a car coming! Thankful for the warning, but I was just taking off one layer. The group kept on ahead of me, and I stayed behind. I was still running, and I was going to finish this run. My lungs and legs were burning, there were several spots I could cut short, but I didn't I pushed on and finished my seven miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember one day talking to a man named Chris about an upcoming race. I had said, I hope it doesn't rain. And he said, I kind of like it when it rains. Then I feel like  superhero. And there is something to it. That race I was talking about that I didn't want it to rain. It did, it poured. It was freezing cold and raining for at least half of the race, I couldn't see to start the race the rain was coming down so hard. And I did kind of feel like a superhero. Maybe a crazy superhero. But one who runs no matter what. And that is kind of how I felt also after today's run. Although it was not any crazy weather, unless you are not from WI and running in 20 degree snow is crazy, which many might rightly argue. But this was the superhero running that fights past everything in your body telling you to stop and finishes!  I am thankful for this mornings superhero run!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-3279806706357876418?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3279806706357876418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/01/superhero-running.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3279806706357876418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3279806706357876418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/01/superhero-running.html' title='Superhero Running'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4352832757681247120</id><published>2011-01-14T12:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T13:11:03.619-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate the Color Blue!!!</title><content type='html'>Perspective, it is something my children give me. One day, my daughter, who was five at the time, refused to listen to me when I asked her to help her sister. After finally obeying, she still had to serve her punishment, which was five minutes in timeout. She begrudgingly sat. However, she decided her timeout would take place in the comfy chair. I made her move to her plastic blue chair in the hallway for timeout, where she turned to screams of “I HATE THE COLOR BLUE!!!” I stood in the kitchen, laughing at my daughter and her irrational anger over the color blue, what I really wanted was her to be remorseful for not obeying her mother. Why is it that when we are in trouble we can find everything wrong to complain about? When the going gets tough the world starts to fall apart around us. We can find something wrong with everything. When my husband comes home late, I all of a sudden hate that we do not have money for the new shirt that I want. When I haven’t slept in days because my baby is confused about day and night, I suddenly hate mornings and nights and just about everything else. I become irrational about life. When things do not go the way I want, I get angry. Just like my 5 year old, I want to stomp my feet and scream and hate the color blue because life just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;is no&lt;/span&gt;t fair. So today I need some perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has been a little crazy around here. As you can see from above, I have lost a lot of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;perspective&lt;/span&gt;. I am exhausted, overwhelmed and trying really hard to just keep it all together. Keeping my mouth shut as much as possible and praying even more. But, in the midst of chaos, I am thankful for the constants. And my favorite things are the things out of the mouths of my children. They are little treasures that make it all worthwhile and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;--when everything else does not seem to be.  So... some perspective&lt;br /&gt;David (3) told me the other day after his nap, “Mom, Jesus loves my heart!” I said, yes he does buddy, but why are you telling me that, where did you get that from. He said, “God just told me that!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Karis&lt;/span&gt; (5) while watching a TV show, “that child is very impressive.” I love to see my children excited and impressed by others—not envious, but encouraged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Karis&lt;/span&gt; (when she was 2!) Told me that she missed Jesus, I asked what she meant, she said, “I miss Him, sometimes he carries me mom.” Really? He carries you? And she responded, “Yes, he does carry me.” All I could think of was, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”Matthew 11:28-30&lt;br /&gt;Anya (8) She is a girl of few words, but my favorite thing about her is her heart – she wears it on her sleeve and often in her eyes that fill with tears so easily. My favorite thing she has EVER said was when she was three “That is just the way God made me!” when told by a neighbor that her butt had a crack in it.– it was said as only a 3 year old can say with a certain conviction of true identity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4352832757681247120?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4352832757681247120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-hate-color-blue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4352832757681247120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4352832757681247120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-hate-color-blue.html' title='I Hate the Color Blue!!!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4190093603424032397</id><published>2011-01-10T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T08:58:01.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>It is a Monday, that is all I have to say. I could not really imagine a worse day. Woke up, ran, made breakfast, (none of that was really all that bad) BUT then my potty training woes kicked in. I do not let my three year old wear a pull up unless we are going somewhere or he is sleeping. So I took of his pull up this morning (and for the most part we have success). NOT this morning. Within minutes he peed all down the front of his pants. He was so remorseful. I SO SO SO sorry mommy I will never pee in my pants again. I love you so much! My anger quickly dissapated. And 5 minutes later. MOMMY I AM POOPING IN MY PANTS! Tears start flowing. And not just his! WHAT? What happened to the remorse from 5 minutes ago? So, he had to take a shower, which he HATES and he screamed at me the whole time. But he survived. And then the worst happened. I was taking his pants downstairs to be washed and somehow I did not realize there was poop in them? So, all of a sudden I hear a THUD as this poop hits the floor and then the dog comes out of nowhere and EATS IT! I am now hyperventilating with my head between my legs because I think I am going to throw up and my nine year old is crying because I am scaring her and my 5 year old is hiding and my little boy is still naked from his shower, shivering in a towel.&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully after it all got cleaned up and everyone was dressed, I was able to give my sister a call for a very needed grown up talk. In which she informed me, "at least my son did not poop on the babies face on purpose"which is apparently what happened to one of her friends. AND yes thank you for that perspective. But I am ready for Tuesday and it is just barey 10 a.m.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4190093603424032397?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4190093603424032397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/01/monday.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4190093603424032397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4190093603424032397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2011/01/monday.html' title='Monday'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-2016360817180770214</id><published>2010-12-31T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T10:04:21.177-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolving....</title><content type='html'>It is New Year's Eve, a time for resolving (I personally like the word resoluting, but upon looking it up found it had no definition -- so I am resolving) I kind of go up and down about resolutions BUT have learned that it is better to resolve to do something, to set a goal, then to be just completely content where I am at, otherwise, how would I ever grow? And this also comes to my theory of expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking on the phrase, “If you don’t expect anything, you will never be disappointed.” I have expectations for my marriage, of my children and my life. I expected that early on in my marriage we would buy a house. We would settle down with our children and I would live a simple life but content. It took ten years to buy a house and now that we have a house I have to work part- time just to get by. I expect that my husband and I will laugh together every day. I want to share my thoughts and have him listen with intense interest and encouragement. I have expectations for my children. I want them to be respectful, obedient and kind. I expect them to pick up after themselves. I expect them to play together nicely and respect the adults in their lives. I have expectations for just about everything and find myself frequently disappointed when these things do not turn out the way I think they should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, should I stop expecting anything? Here is the problem. If I don’t expect anything it may be that nothing will happen. If I have no expectations of myself I grow lazy. If I have low expectations for my family they may think I don’t expect anything because I think they are capable of nothing. Expectations can build a sense of pride and purpose. So, I think I will leave the no expectations for a rainy Saturday where there is no danger of disappointment only possibility. And I will keep my expectations great for my children, marriage and self because I know they are capable of more than I can expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my expectations for this year? For myself? My resolves, my goals are:&lt;br /&gt;1. to run my FIRST marathon&lt;br /&gt;2. to have more fun with my children&lt;br /&gt;3. to read a book a month&lt;br /&gt;4. to not spend as much money... especially on coffee (sorry Starbucks!)&lt;br /&gt;5. to go on more dates with my husband&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-2016360817180770214?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2016360817180770214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/resolving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2016360817180770214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2016360817180770214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/resolving.html' title='Resolving....'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-7072979929159835581</id><published>2010-12-30T12:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T13:03:02.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Love Thursday... Christmas card LETTERS</title><content type='html'>I really love the cards that I get at Christmas with &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;letters.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Sorry, as cute as the pictures are, and as much as I love the kids in my life, I hardly have time to take pictures of my own children, so I probably will not put pictures of your children on my refrigerator because my children might start to wonder where theirs are and a cycle begins. So, you're pictures are "oohed and aahed" over for a second, then put in the garbage- sorry, if I am losing friends here, I am maybe just trying to say that you can save some money by not sending me one, and maybe I am a high maintenance friend, because I want to know what happened, to be proud of what you did and excited for the year ahead. I am so proud of so many of my friends and family and all they can accomplish in a year. But, alas, I am AWFUL at sending out a card. I have planned to on and off for the past nine years, and this year, I did not even plan to so... in lieu of a card, I am blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we (in no particular order)....&lt;br /&gt;took gymnastics, took swimming lessons, made a movie, premiered a movie, had a baby girl named Verity Sophia, went to the beach, worked on sewing projects, learned a neat new pattern for crocheting hats (that I have become a bit obsessed with), visited family in MI, WI and IL, visited friends in Grand Rapids, made new friends, joined a running group, picked strawberries, lost our first teeth, tried rollerskating, ran a race, joined a new Bible Study, became members at our church, quit my very part-time job, went to a cabin for a week, celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary, picked apples, learned how to go places with four children, learned how to read, laughed a lot, cried some and realized we work together as a really good family!&lt;br /&gt;I guess that is it I am sure I am missing things, but these stand out for the year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is linked to &lt;a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/"&gt;Things I Love Thursday at Diaper Diaries&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-7072979929159835581?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7072979929159835581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/things-i-love-thursday-christmas-card.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7072979929159835581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7072979929159835581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/things-i-love-thursday-christmas-card.html' title='Things I Love Thursday... Christmas card LETTERS'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-2609218873664213131</id><published>2010-12-20T12:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T13:16:19.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WARNING, (this post is sad)</title><content type='html'>So, I have thought for a while about whether or not to write on this, but this time of year has some ache in my heart. It is such a GREAT time of year, full of cheer and joy. And it is, but there is a part of my, "this time of year." that is sad. And this is my story. Four years ago, I was reveling in the joy of being pregnant for a third time. I had really started to show early, already in my maternity pants at 6 weeks! I thought, "this is what happens with the third." I had waited so anxiously for this child. I had wanted him, from the moment my second was born. I knew, I love my girls, but my family was not complete. I had room for more. And when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Karis&lt;/span&gt; was one week old, I started planning when I could get pregnant again. The year came with lots of problems including emergency room visits and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;EKG's&lt;/span&gt; followed by major surgery on my kidney. But one and a half years after she was born we were pregnant. And I was SO happy! I went in for my eight week check up in the middle of December. And they did all the normal tests and said, "there might be some spotting, but that is normal." And the next day there was, spotting, just a little. and pretty much every day after that for a week. But it was Christmas so I waited a little. Two days after Christmas I called the doctor and explained that I had been spotting, just once a day since the checkup. She said that was not really normal, but she was not concerned. She had me come in for an ultrasound just for "peace of mind."&lt;br /&gt;My husband went into that room with me and the tech put the warm jelly and wand on my belly. And there was nothing. No heartbeat. I burst into tears. And that "kind" tech said, "why are you crying, I haven't even done anything yet." And I said, "I have had two babies, I know what is supposed to be there! And it is not." She said I was over reacting and took some measurements then sent me to wait in the waiting room. I couldn't stop crying. This was not supposed to happen to me. She called the doctor and he told me it looked like a "spontaneous abortion." I don't know why they call it that, but they do and it is an awful name. I cried the whole way home. Told my sister to take the maternity shirt she had gotten me for Christmas and go. I held my girls, my 4 year old and 1 year old. And I cried. The doctor said it would happen on its own. I just had to wait.&lt;br /&gt;Well, a week went by, and life went on around me. A New Year came. The spotting stopped. And it didn't happen. I held onto this weak hope that maybe God had started this little babies heart. I had a newsletter to write. My husband had to start teaching. Someone asked me to babysit. Everyone was acting like everything was "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;." I ran as fast and as far as I could crying most of the time. They scheduled a D&amp;amp;C. But that night it happened. In my little apartment. In pain and blood. I cried some more. It felt like life would never be the same. I blamed myself. My daughter prayed that God would take care of our baby and send a new one soon. And I cried some more.&lt;br /&gt;I had a lot to deal with and blamed myself. I told myself that I already had two children, who was I to complain. I told myself that I had friends that had lost babies at 20 weeks, 30 weeks, at birth or days old. That I was 11 weeks, that was nothing compared to what they suffered. But I did suffer. I suffered and mourned for this child that I loved with all my heart.&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I went away for a weekend. And God spoke loudly. Telling me that I needed to not be afraid. God did not promise that I would never have another miscarriage. He did not promise that I would have another baby. But God spoke to my heart about not living in fear.&lt;br /&gt;We were blessed the following December to welcome David into the world. Then when we found out we were pregnant with our fourth, due the same time as the precious child we lost three years earlier. I became afraid again. I had nightmares of losing this child. I felt myself wrestling with God, pleading for this child's life. Fear gripped me. And one night, after a long time of "fighting" it felt, I saw this little boy waving at me. His name was Noah. He was laughing and playing in a field. He waved and said, "hi, MOM!" And I think it was a gift. I believe Noah is my son, in Heaven, in Jesus arms, and one day I will be there with him. And the nightmares stopped after that. And Verity joined our family this past July.&lt;br /&gt;Life is precious. And I am so thankful for each little life God has blessed me with. And I grieve with all those mom's who have babies in Heaven. And I am so thankful for hope, that we will be together again!&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know why I share this, but I hope it is helpful to someone. And maybe it explains the tears that come so easily to me this time of year. And make me want to get away from all the "doing" of this season and just "be" with those I love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-2609218873664213131?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2609218873664213131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/warning-this-post-is-sad.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2609218873664213131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2609218873664213131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/warning-this-post-is-sad.html' title='WARNING, (this post is sad)'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-3274327316837771842</id><published>2010-12-15T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T12:52:45.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Man Cold" from Man Stroke Woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rXLHWmjA5IE?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a serious case of "man cold" in our house. To his credit he did have a fever, well I am pretty sure that he did because when he gets chills he kind of wraps himself in blankets and then his body temp I think just sky rockets until he is a furnace! Anyways to his luck, he recently pointed out this book which he heard discussed on NPR (I cannot find the book) -- so now I am going off his word. But anyways, this book stated the best cure for the common cold was compassion. That Vitamin C works some - but mostly in active people and chicken noodle soup works as well, but the best cure was compassion - which I must admit I sorely lack most of the time when it comes to my husband, so I cancelled my early run today, let him sleep til he was ready to wake up and served him breakfast in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, after asking me several times what was wrong with me and why was I being so nice? He got up and made it through the day, well so far, it is only mid-afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND it got me thinking that maybe there is some truth to this... SO, I started thinking back to when my son was born. He was 8lbs. 10 oz, which is big, but not really that big, all my children had weighed over 8 lbs, so I wasn't surprised, but they thought maybe I had been diabetic and they had missed it so they checked his blood sugar and it was low, like 40 or something. And so they told me, he needs to eat, YOU NEED TO FEED HIM! And all he was doing was crying. He didn't want to eat. And, I felt so helpless. So, I just held him against me, until they came in to get him, and then they took his blood sugar again and it was in the 80s and they were no longer worried. And it amazed me that this little person just needed me to hold him, his blood sugar restored to normal. So now I am thinking maybe there is something to compassion in the healing process....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-3274327316837771842?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3274327316837771842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/man-cold-from-man-stroke-woman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3274327316837771842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3274327316837771842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/man-cold-from-man-stroke-woman.html' title='&quot;Man Cold&quot; from Man Stroke Woman'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/rXLHWmjA5IE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-9169846586016920862</id><published>2010-12-14T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T11:49:00.462-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Living Life on Purpose - Just some random thoughts</title><content type='html'>Have you ever looked around and realized I am here. How did I get here? Is this the "there" I was always waiting to get to. And now that "there" is "here," and so what is my problem, because now I am "here" and here is not really all that great. I am not talking about contentment right now, because I &lt;em&gt;am &lt;/em&gt;still working on that, but I am talking about that way of living where I am always waiting to "arrive." To get here, and once I am here I realize, I missed the whole trip. The kind of living which so perfectly resembles the car ride, that starts 5 minutes in with, "are we there yet?" and ends with, "I just really want to go home." And realizing we missed the journey, the adventure in the bathroom with no lights at the only gas station for 45 miles, the random purple elephant statue we saw in the middle of nowhere, and the really funny story that the five year old made up. I slept through it all, the whole journey, just anxiously waiting to get there. And now, I am here, and here is not all I want it to be. SO maybe it takes a little bit more living life on purpose. Intentional Living. Maybe it even takes a plan... a plan to stop at the purple elephant-- to make memories, and to be open to the adventure in the bathroom that is completely unplanned. I dont want to miss important moments along the way because I am too tired, too scared, too busy. I want to live my life on purpose. With eyes set on heaven, but head and feet in today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-9169846586016920862?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/9169846586016920862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/living-life-on-purpose-just-some-random.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/9169846586016920862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/9169846586016920862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/living-life-on-purpose-just-some-random.html' title='Living Life on Purpose - Just some random thoughts'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4278034248786765419</id><published>2010-12-09T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T11:20:06.901-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Things I Love Thursday.... CHRISTMAS through the eyes of a child!!!!</title><content type='html'>There is something magical about Christmas. About the season. About the lights. I LOVE Christmas! And not really the presents, the presents kind of just stress me out. I love the magic of it. I never want to grow tired of it or lose the amazement. Christmas is the celebration of Jesus, the Son of God, coming off his throne in Heaven into this world. And that is amazing and awesome! My son has this really crazy way of joy. It is one of the closest glimpses I have seen of the joy promised us in a world so full of sadness. It is hard sometimes to imagine what life is like for him because he sometimes seems like he will explode with joy. And Christmas through his eyes is beyond wonderful. I love to drive down the streets and he sees lights and says, "MOM! LOOK IT'S CHRISTMAS!" He loves jingle bells -- the song-- and frequently just breaks into singing it. And he thinks it is beautiful, the lights, the snow, all of it. And he tells you, "look! it's beautiful -- in the way a three year old does, with not all the letters quite making the correct sound, and "oh, it is so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pwitty&lt;/span&gt;!" He never really gets tired of it! Everything is new and wonderful. Christmas even makes snow wonderful. My children asked me if they can play in the snow this afternoon, and I said "Why would you want to do that? It is SO cold?" And they laugh, probably thinking, your just old mom. But on Christmas Eve, I am actually disappointed when there is not snow on the ground. Snow makes everything quieter, stiller. And on Christmas Eve that is what I want, quiet stillness.&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful for the little children's eyes I get to see Christmas with this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is linked to &lt;a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/things-i-love-thursday-coldstone-creamery-hot-chocolate/"&gt;Things I Love Thursday at Diaper Diaries&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4278034248786765419?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4278034248786765419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/things-i-love-thursday-christmas.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4278034248786765419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4278034248786765419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/things-i-love-thursday-christmas.html' title='Things I Love Thursday.... CHRISTMAS through the eyes of a child!!!!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4233317675569315151</id><published>2010-12-08T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T11:12:06.007-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parties, House Guests and a Movie!</title><content type='html'>I have not written in a LONG time it seems, well frankly because life has been INSANE! Sometimes I think it is a wonder that I remember to breathe. I have had two phone calls today talking about Christmas shopping. One person called asking if she should buy my son a pillow pet because my 5 year old is getting one and would my 8 year old want one? and on and on the message went. I called my husband crying because if I had 5 minutes to think about Christmas shopping, it would be a miracle. I have not even picked up a book in 5 days! Every spare second I have had has been sleeping. And today not so much because my baby will not sleep unless she is being held. And for just a few minutes I am going to write because she did fall asleep and all my children are in respective rooms, and hopefully it will be an hour before I see them again, not that I don't love their little faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what have we been doing? Parties, house guests and a movie, that is what we have been doing! My son turned three, so we had a celebration that day, but then in true family form, we had a HUGE party on Sunday. This family I married into is committed, I believe, to let everyone know they are happy they were born in a gigantic way. Which for my son included lasagna, cake, truffles, a talking garbage truck, L&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;egos&lt;/span&gt;, a remote control Lightning McQueen, and about 20 family members. I only had to get the cake, make the truffles, get my husband to a meeting, get my children to the party and then pick my husband up from the meeting to get to the party. So, not too much EXCEPT on the way to the party my husband made a phone call then turned to let me know that we had friends coming to stay with us that night and the next and they might get there at the same time we do from this party! I have not cleaned, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;vacuumed&lt;/span&gt;, washed towels, grocery shopped, thankfully they are good friends that don't really care about all that, but I still like to be a little prepared. SO 10 minutes after arriving home from the party, kids tucked in, our guests show up. We chatted for a while, went to bed, then my husband left for work in the morning, leaving me grocery shopping, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt;, gymnastics, and getting children to the sitter. BECAUSE he had his big film premiere and it meant a lot for me to be there. AND so we hit the floor running and with help from my friend staying with us I did not have to tote all 4 kids to the grocery store, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt; got done, lunch got made, dinner in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;crock pot&lt;/span&gt;.... BUT what do you wear to a film premiere -- for me, pretty much what fits, because I am STILL trying to get back in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-pregnancy clothes, so like it or not that is what I had to wear. Then, gymnastics, they had to go because it was the last day of testing to find out if they were able to move up a level, and I am so proud &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; they both did it! Drop them off at the sitter -- a wonderful friend who often offers to help with my children (somewhere in there pumped milk) -- drove to premiere, chatted it up a little with Lana Wood (former bond girl-who was in their movie -- and the only famous person I have ever met in my life). Watched my husbands movie premiere, I was SO proud, they did an amazing job. Drove home, picked up children, tucked them in, waited for my husband and friends to get home, got too tired went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I need a vacation! And a nap!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4233317675569315151?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4233317675569315151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/parties-house-guests-and-movie.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4233317675569315151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4233317675569315151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/parties-house-guests-and-movie.html' title='Parties, House Guests and a Movie!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-7739432633236817784</id><published>2010-12-02T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T06:10:01.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And Just Like That... He's 3!!!</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe it, my little boy is turning 3!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him "Now that you are 3 what happens?" He said, "I can play FOOTBALL!!!!" Does he not know that it is not possible for me to love him any more than I already do? Well he may have found a way because saying that he is going to be a football player is the way to this mom's heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is the only boy in our group of 4, and he is all boy! He makes us laugh every day. I have never met anyone like him. And I believe it was just two weeks ago, my little "ninja" was blaming me for his puddle of pee underneath him! And guess what, we have made it 3 days without an accident because, he is big now. So happy birthday my little David! He is my favorite little man in the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545828882133233490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPa9_DinL1I/AAAAAAAAAFU/SqRVlrICPA8/s200/PB170040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545829355062663746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPa-alVxmkI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ouAfQSi8AEg/s200/PB170043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545829658080866514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPa-sOK8cNI/AAAAAAAAAFs/64w50OOPl-k/s200/PB170045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545829142162385010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPa-OMOZKHI/AAAAAAAAAFc/_BpY-lvy1q4/s200/PB170041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-7739432633236817784?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7739432633236817784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/and-just-like-that-hes-3.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7739432633236817784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7739432633236817784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/12/and-just-like-that-hes-3.html' title='And Just Like That... He&apos;s 3!!!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPa9_DinL1I/AAAAAAAAAFU/SqRVlrICPA8/s72-c/PB170040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-1573164726506028888</id><published>2010-11-30T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T19:55:38.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Identity</title><content type='html'>Isaiah 43:1b, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have summoned you by name, you are mine.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always wanted to be one of those girls who is defined by something. I want to be the girl who only eats organic food, the girl who runs, the girl who backpacks, the girl who only feeds her kids healthy food, the girl who is well-liked, the girl who is funny. Any or all of the above would do for me. Unfortunately, I am probably not good enough at any of the above to actually say any one defines me. I am not the girl who always eats organic food, because my favorite dessert is M&amp;amp;M’s—that’s right give me M&amp;amp;M’s any day over anything; I will take it. I do run, but not well and not every day. I love to backpack and be outside, but too often I am afraid of wild animals. I am the girl who frequently spots the random cougar running through town—I am a bit paranoid. I try to do all of the above, but none I do well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a sign the one day that was by McGruff the crime dog. He said, “You spend a lifetime building your identity, but it only takes a second for someone to steal it.” For some reason this hit me. I have spent my entire life building my identity. I want all of these “things” to define who I am. I have spent years trying to figure out who I am. And maybe somewhere along the way I decided I needed to make who I am. So, I started finding my interests and becoming this “ideal” person in my book. Yet, I have never been very successful at any of it. I have tried so hard to be that girl, the one everyone admires. But that can be stolen too. McGruff was right! One word can just rip it down, and suddenly I am no longer that girl. I realized this one night when after a weekend of praising me and the decisions I had made to better myself, my husband came down with a criticism of something I did. You see, lately the girl I want to be is the educated, reader, tea-drinker, who does not watch TV and only eats healthy things, the girl who does yoga and runs, the self-disciplined girl. What’s the problem? I watched TV and suddenly I was no longer that girl. My husband apparently admired that girl. But I changed, or gave in to be not so self-disciplined and suddenly that was no longer my identity. I had my identity stolen by just this simple question of whether I was really going to watch TV tonight—and was it going to be that much TV. I had determined I was. I was sick and tired and wanted to watch 3 hours of TV. But when my husband brought this up, I realized I was no longer this girl, the girl who he had grown to like, even if it had been a girl around for only about 2 weeks. My identity was stolen, my pride was hurt and once again, I was left wondering who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully several years ago, God really showed me who I am. I am His. That is what defines me, that identity, cannot be stolen. No matter if I am organic-eating or M&amp;amp;M-eating, running or sitting and reading, making wise decisions of my time or not so wise, I am still His. My identity is that of a child of God. I am chosen, dearly loved and precious. I am His precious daughter. Thankfully this does not change. I cannot make some mistake that will take this away from me or make me less His. I just need to keep reminding myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-1573164726506028888?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1573164726506028888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/identity.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1573164726506028888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1573164726506028888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/identity.html' title='Identity'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-8819315216236321394</id><published>2010-11-29T11:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T12:27:50.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Recap</title><content type='html'>Well.... I took a few days off, to enjoy being home with my family. We kind of took the whole week off, off of school, off of schedule, just pretty much off. It seems that Thanksgiving in my house always ends up kind of up in the air. We have hosted the past two years, and two years in a row our main guests, (my wonderful sister and her family) have had some major thing strike. Last year her husband tore his Achilles tendon the Saturday before and was in surgery the Tuesday before. This year, Sunday morning her 6 year old came down with strep-throat and then Tuesday her three year old as well. So both years we waited until Thanksgiving day to actually find out if anyone was joining us for dinner. And both years they forged through, making the five hour trek to share Thanksgiving with us. And I am very thankful they did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we also started a new tradition. We started the morning trottin' with the turkeys! That is what they call the run here in town, the "Turkey Trot" It was so much fun! My eight year old did amazing! My five year old did a pretty good job. Here are some pictures....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545065264965915090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQHer6mkdI/AAAAAAAAAEE/D1FwZlCK2Ds/s200/PB250068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a good turn out, over 1500 racers! (we were at the very back)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545068229512102834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQKLPtfg7I/AAAAAAAAAFE/Rp6g6UqKIQo/s200/PB250114.JPG" border="0" /&gt;our cheering team! (grandpa and 2 year old)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545068020445108994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQJ_E4CWwI/AAAAAAAAAE8/7sblVRIBJVs/s200/PB250064.JPG" border="0" /&gt;he had the best seat in the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545066310125059938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQIbhb9f2I/AAAAAAAAAEU/Jeoh3wHw1_4/s200/PB250132.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Running to the finish line!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545066827716703858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQI5pnbNnI/AAAAAAAAAEc/GkLnOEFYSzY/s200/PB250134.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545067242803089922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 116px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQJRz7u0gI/AAAAAAAAAEk/3FjOkXZVdAc/s200/PB250129.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Karis and I finishing closer to the end, we were ending our 2 miles at the same time the 10k winners were coming in!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545067677584529714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQJrHntGTI/AAAAAAAAAE0/cLJyXB3vilc/s200/PB250121.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Determination, eye on the prize (the finish line had cookies and donuts-all the motivation this girl needs!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545067421674797970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQJcOSEe5I/AAAAAAAAAEs/_al24U1Pw8E/s200/PB250122.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;A final push to the finish line!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;We had a great time and a really, really good Thanksgiving!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-8819315216236321394?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8819315216236321394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanksgiving-recap.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8819315216236321394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8819315216236321394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanksgiving-recap.html' title='Thanksgiving Recap'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TPQHer6mkdI/AAAAAAAAAEE/D1FwZlCK2Ds/s72-c/PB250068.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4076297807440090571</id><published>2010-11-22T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T20:28:57.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hat Skit - Hearts at Home National Conference</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/SZsqN2Fm_c0?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this skit, it is exactly how I feel most days. I saw Karen Ehman two years ago at the Hearts at Home Conference. Funny thing is, I never imagined life would be quite like this. In fact, I kind of thought it would be much different. If someone had asked me 20 years ago what my life would look like when I was in my 30s, I would have said, ...I thought I would live in a big city. I would drink coffee on the train commuting to work while glancing at the financial section of the New York Times. I was never going to be married. I thought I would adopt a child from another country.I thought I might change the world in some extraordinary way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I live a crazy, unpredictable life. Doing far more than I ever imagined I could. And the far more is a whole lot of ordinary things. And some days, I get really tired and discouraged that it is not some extraordinary world changing thing -- like cure cancer, find a way to feed all the starving children in Africa,  or bring world peace (you know all the reasonable goals that every young person strives for). BUT, then most days, I realize that the extraordinary thing I get to do is take care of these little people and make them ready to take on this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4076297807440090571?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4076297807440090571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/hat-skit-hearts-at-home-national.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4076297807440090571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4076297807440090571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/hat-skit-hearts-at-home-national.html' title='Hat Skit - Hearts at Home National Conference'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/SZsqN2Fm_c0/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-2781111315333902235</id><published>2010-11-18T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T17:57:10.375-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things I Love Thursday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>Things I Love Thursday (Running)</title><content type='html'>Well, since I have only been really writing this blog regularly for the past three weeks and this is my third post on running, I think it suffices to say that I LOVE RUNNING! And, I have a goal to run the Chicago Marathon next Fall. So, I thought I would justify my love for running by listing things that make running good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When I am about to scream because my house needs cleaning, my kids need feeding and things are not going my way BUT it is 7am (my usual time to run -- although somehow this has changed to 5:00am -- see #5) I get to go without having to justify, and somehow life is a lot clearer afterwards. (or maybe I just can't yell because I am out of breath)--either way it works!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Some nights I really need a piece of chocolate, glass or two of wine, chocolate chip cookie, etc. On days I run, I really do not feel guilty about one of these things, and even on days I don't run, I just run a little more/faster the next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I can say that I have actually accomplished something -- "I ran 6 miles, in 54 minutes. " One of the only things I actually COMPLETE in my life, other things like dishes always need doing, there is always laundry to do and toys to clean up -- they are never COMPLETE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It is one of the only things I can do that I am completely alone doing, and it is OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I do not have to be completely alone, I have made some of my best friends running, and am always making new friends running. There is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;camaraderie&lt;/span&gt; in running, I may not ever have taken the time to get to know someone because our lives are different, busy, full, etc. BUT then we run together. And there is just something about running 8 miles in a snowstorm just for training sake that makes you feel like this person is your favorite person and you will be friends forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I get to run with my girls. This Fall my 8 year old and 5 year old have been training with me for the turkey trot Thanksgiving morning. So we will be starting our day running together, for that I am thankful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot imagine not being a runner, I hope that I will be one of those people at 89 still running and maybe even one of those old people you hear people talk about that passed them at mile 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is being linked to &lt;a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Things I Love Thursday&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;at Diaper Diaries&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-2781111315333902235?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2781111315333902235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-i-love-thursday-running.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2781111315333902235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2781111315333902235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-i-love-thursday-running.html' title='Things I Love Thursday (Running)'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-8911999479382361824</id><published>2010-11-17T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T10:40:09.211-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book Review'/><title type='text'>A Book Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Immanuel's Veins&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;by&lt;em&gt; Ted Dekker&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love to read, I am not a huge fan of book reviews, because so often it is just a personal thing. But I am going to give it a try. For example, I strongly disliked the books &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Time Traveler's Wife&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;em&gt;Audrey Niffenegger &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's Come Undone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; by&lt;em&gt; Wally Lamb. &lt;/em&gt;Both of these books have gotten rave reviews from many, but they just were not my cup of tea. So, this review is just my humble opinion. And, I went into this with high expectations. Some set by the 3 or 4 pages of reviews at the beginning of the book stating how this book changed lives. The other expectation was one set by myself. Somehow I thought this book might be just the perfect blend of &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Twilight&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;by&lt;em&gt; Stephenie Meyer &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Mark of the Lion &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;series by &lt;em&gt;Francine Rivers. &lt;/em&gt;Now this would be my dream book probably, historical fiction with a little bit of mystery (or whatever drew me to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Twilight&lt;/strong&gt;). &lt;/em&gt;Well, I was sadly disappointed. This book was a quick easy read, but it was not all I had hoped for. The two main characters were Toma and Lucine. And Toma was what seemed to be a "savior" character. Definitely in the ending he was that, but he was SO lacking. I am always taken by books that show the lure and danger of overindulgence. So often we look at evil as just that evil. The characters that murder, abuse, hurt. This book shows the danger of just living with pleasure and love in excess, at all costs. And that I appreciated. But I wanted more development. I did not see what real love looks like, the kind that is complete, the kind I think this book was trying to show. I wanted more. So, all in all, I would give this book 3 stars if I had a rating system like that. The idea was good, it fell short. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-8911999479382361824?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8911999479382361824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/book-review.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8911999479382361824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8911999479382361824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/book-review.html' title='A Book Review'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4252493764517167997</id><published>2010-11-16T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T11:56:29.090-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 10 Tuesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='traditions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Top 10 Christmas Traditions... It's Beginning To Look a lot like Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TOLh1rFbs0I/AAAAAAAAADs/1Dy-XmwuK0Y/s1600/toptentuesday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540238803833959234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TOLh1rFbs0I/AAAAAAAAADs/1Dy-XmwuK0Y/s200/toptentuesday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, not here, but just north of here I heard they got a foot of snow! And, I cannot believe how many people are setting up Christmas trees early, before Thanksgiving. I say go for it! I love this time of year... the lights, the smells, the sights. I love it! There are a few traditions I will keep and a couple I would like to start (or restart)&lt;br /&gt;1. Pajamas -- since I was a little girl we got pajamas on Christmas Eve -- to look cute in our pictures Christmas morning (although I dont think I ever looked really cute in any of those pics)&lt;br /&gt;2. Put up Christmas Tree the weekend after Thanksgiving -- I actually have these really fond memories or going to cut down our own tree the first week of November as a kid, some friends of ours had a Christmas Tree farm and before they sent them out to the stores we got to come cut one, we then followed it with chili at a neighbors with friends from church also cutting down THEIR trees and singing Christmas carols. I thought we would have a real tree by now, for sure last year, but so far our little tree has hung in there. We missed putting it up last year until the week before because we kept thinking we would get a real tree, we never did, we put up the old standby and my two year old broke into tears when he saw the lights, I dont think he had seen anything so beautiful in his life!&lt;br /&gt;3. Advent - so often I skip this part, I get so caught up in all the doing, I forget the need to prepare myself for this holiday so... we will be reading a part of the Christmas story each day and lighting our Advent candles&lt;br /&gt;4. And for a craft/Advent Calendar -- Iwould like to make a &lt;a href="http://www.catholicculture.org/culture/liturgicalyear/activities/view.cfm?id=545"&gt;Jesse Tree&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Read this &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jothams-Journey-Storybook-Arnold-Ytreeide/dp/0825441749/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpi_2"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt; as a family --I love reading with my family ay night, with hot chocolate or tea and everyone cuddled up together (well except for the two year old doing sprints down the hallway)&lt;br /&gt;6. This one is going to be very hard for me -- but I want to make it a tradition that each child gets just one present from us, besides the pajamas listed in #1... My love language is gift giving, and I love to buy presents for my family, but I really feel like this is when I lose perspective!&lt;br /&gt;7. Listen to this &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Vineyard-Cafe-Christmas-Various/dp/B0009WOV4A/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=music&amp;amp;qid=1289934895&amp;amp;sr=1-4"&gt;CD&lt;/a&gt;, (I did not know if they actually sold it anymore, but I found it on Amazon) it is a favorite of my husband's and mine, and it is really hard to get him to like my music&lt;br /&gt;9. Drive around and look at Christmas lights&lt;br /&gt;9. Make these amazing &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Easy-OREO-Truffles/Detail.aspx"&gt;Chocolate Oreo Truffles&lt;/a&gt;, (I only let myself make them during the holidays )&lt;br /&gt;10.Celebrate with family, we always spend Christmas Eve with my in-laws and this year we are heading to my sister's on Christmas Day&lt;br /&gt;Well seven of the ten are tried and true traditions, three are new, we will see how they go, and hopefully soon it really will begin to look a lot like Christmas around here!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This post is linked to &lt;em&gt;Top Ten Tuesdays &lt;/em&gt;at&lt;em&gt; &lt;a href="http://ohamanda.com/"&gt;Oh Amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4252493764517167997?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4252493764517167997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/top-10-christmas-traditions-its.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4252493764517167997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4252493764517167997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/top-10-christmas-traditions-its.html' title='Top 10 Christmas Traditions... It&apos;s Beginning To Look a lot like Christmas!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TOLh1rFbs0I/AAAAAAAAADs/1Dy-XmwuK0Y/s72-c/toptentuesday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-1342474389717538346</id><published>2010-11-15T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T13:12:00.763-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potty training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mothering'/><title type='text'>Poop on Potty Training!!!!</title><content type='html'>Poop! I hate potty training. Don't get me wrong I am incredibly happy when it is over and I don't have to change the diapers of an almost three year old, BUT in the middle of it, I hate it! I hate the messes, the fear of 'where is my child at this moment, is he hiding or is he going to the bathroom some random place in my house!' This is my third attempt. My first two were very successful, they were quick, easy. My first, my husband did most of the work -- so that was perfect!!! Then my second just wanted to be like her sister, so she just did it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My third, he hates it, this morning he screamed at me, "I DON'T LIKE YOU!! YOU ARE MEAN MOMMY!" Just for making him sit on the potty? And I am not above bribery, I bribe with candy, stickers, cute underwear, you name it we have it. He just does not want to do it. He actually believes he will get a real truck when he is potty trained. He pointed it out to me the other day at the bank drive thru -- and I thought maybe this was a sign that he is NOT potty training until he is 16. Our day then proceeded with more screaming (I would not put pants or anything on him til he went on the potty) Some kids like to be naked -- not him -- after about 15 minutes he sat on the potty, tried really hard, did not go, and got to put on underwear -- CARS underwear (cool underwear)! He made it about 2 hours, which to my fault, I should have made him try again, but I really did not want to hear my sweet boy call me mean again and say he didnt like me! AND I was in the middle of some cooking projects. So, when he disappeared, I started searching -- David, where are you? Why are you hiding? To which he responded "I am a Ninja!" (sitting in a pool of pee?) Which he proceeded to blame on me -- he adamantly insisted that HE DID NOT WET HIS PANTS -- I did it! Well, once again, "I DONT LIKE YOU  MOMMY! YOU ARE MEAN!" came out of my sweet boys little mouth. He was not allowed to put on new underwear/ pull-up/pants until he went on the potty. And 15 minutes later he was on the potty POOPING!!!! Then very grown up like he put on his alien underwear and pants. He then sat at the table to eat lunch and when his sisters did not understand what underwear he was wearing he stood up, pulled his pants to his ankles, breathed out a sigh of annoyance, "See?" And it is only noon and we are no where near done potty training.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-1342474389717538346?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1342474389717538346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/poop-on-potty-training.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1342474389717538346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1342474389717538346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/poop-on-potty-training.html' title='Poop on Potty Training!!!!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-1577358306604644518</id><published>2010-11-11T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T17:08:48.616-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things I Love Thursday'/><title type='text'>Things I Love Thursday (being a girl!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNyTMN5VA4I/AAAAAAAAADk/tOVDfZ0MfhA/s1600/TILT_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538463479856694146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 129px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNyTMN5VA4I/AAAAAAAAADk/tOVDfZ0MfhA/s200/TILT_thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I am going to make fun of myself a minute here because I was tempted to once again write about reading/books that I love, but apparently I have already wrote that blog twice in the past two weeks ... which I believe means I am both incredibly in love with books AND tired. I honestly left my purse at the store and my phone in a field today. I am apparently one tired mama!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO, I am going to diversify! and talk about something else I love -- Being a Girl!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I grew up in a house full of love, a good home for the most part, we had our faults, but my mom was always really big on making sure I knew she loved me for me. She did not emphasize anything girly. Education was important, not appearance. And I totally get that, BUT I honestly believe every little girl needs to hear she is beautiful. Every little girl wants to be a princess. I did not know that though until I became the mom of now three darling girls who are little mommies, princesses and absolutely beautiful if I do say so myself. And after the birth of my first little girl, I realized I love being a girl! I love watching movies that make me cry. I love putting on makeup and having my husband think I am beautiful. I love getting dressed up and I am working on even liking wearing heels (I think this is optional though) I like when my husband is the brave one and I dont have to be. I want my girls to know they are loved for who God made them, creative, smart, and funny. BUT I also want them to know that God made them girls, and part of being a girl is being a beautiful princess, and that is OK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This post is linked up to &lt;a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/"&gt;Diaper Diaries, Things I Love Thursday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-1577358306604644518?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1577358306604644518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-i-love-thursday-being-girl.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1577358306604644518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1577358306604644518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-i-love-thursday-being-girl.html' title='Things I Love Thursday (being a girl!)'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNyTMN5VA4I/AAAAAAAAADk/tOVDfZ0MfhA/s72-c/TILT_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-8303919439539765577</id><published>2010-11-10T13:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T13:58:24.915-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wordless wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday -- Maybe winter wont be so bad!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNsSTCqSqDI/AAAAAAAAADc/tAQwOA30bx8/s1600/Winter2009-2010%2B112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538040285123225650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNsSTCqSqDI/AAAAAAAAADc/tAQwOA30bx8/s200/Winter2009-2010%2B112.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNsR2j08III/AAAAAAAAADU/z3aRhbaZpPw/s1600/Winter2009-2010%2B106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538039795810050178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNsR2j08III/AAAAAAAAADU/z3aRhbaZpPw/s200/Winter2009-2010%2B106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Last year we built a snow hill in our backyard, my children had a blast! And, joy on my children's faces, is the most beautiful sight in the world!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This post is submitted to Wordless Wednesdays at &lt;a href="http://weloveiowa.blogspot.com/2010/11/wordless-wednesday-linky-party-fleeting.html"&gt;A Beautiful Mess&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-8303919439539765577?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8303919439539765577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/wordless-wednesday-maybe-winter-wont-be.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8303919439539765577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8303919439539765577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/wordless-wednesday-maybe-winter-wont-be.html' title='Wordless Wednesday -- Maybe winter wont be so bad!!!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNsSTCqSqDI/AAAAAAAAADc/tAQwOA30bx8/s72-c/Winter2009-2010%2B112.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-9194168104197188445</id><published>2010-11-10T11:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T12:57:00.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 things I am Thankful for... In honor of... THANKSGIVING!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TOwqL17vYHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/euqL1kk-4OI/s1600/toptentuesday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542851624330813554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TOwqL17vYHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/euqL1kk-4OI/s200/toptentuesday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It seems to be the theme in my life these days -- do you ever feel like it could only be more obvious that this is something you should learn if someone actually wrote with permanent marker across your eyeballs! My five year old said to me the other night while I was missing my husband, "MOM, do you want to be on the street with me!?!? or have a house over our head and food on the table!" me, "ummm, a house and food?" Five year old, "GOOD ANSWER!" She is right, who am I to complain, my husband has a job, we have a house and we have food. Be thankful! Then my two year old struck me twice in one week. He greeted his eight year old sister with, "Sister, I am so thankful to see you this morning!" Then upon arriving home with groceries, he noticed, skinless, boneless chicken breasts and grabbed them saying, "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! YOU GOT CHICKEN! I LOVE CHICKEN!" As Thanksgiving approaches, I am thankful for little people in my life who are reminding me to be thankful for what I have! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So... I am thankful for....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. my Savior, Jesus Christ&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. a husband! He loves me despite all my downfalls and thinks I am so funny he actually thought I should do stand up comedy at one point which is just funny in itself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. four amazing, unique children that have taught me more than I ever thought I needed to learn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. friends! New and old, we have moved a lot over the past 10 years, and sometimes it has taken a long time to make friends and feel settled, this move has thankfully been a lot quicker adjustment. And I have managed to stay friends with some of the girls I grew up with!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. a house!!! I have to remind myself of this because it is easy to take it for granted, but just a year and a half ago my family was crammed into a small two bedroom apartment. After 9 years of marriage we purchased our first house and it is so nice to have a home!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. health! I have been blessed with 4 healthy children. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. food! I have been toying with the idea of having one day a week where my family just eats rice and beans all day. I think this is something that is hard to understand -- that food is something I should be thankful for that not everybody has it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. a job! My husband has a job. That is probably enough said in today's economy, but so far, I have been able to stay home with our children and that is just an extra bonus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. forgiveness and grace! I need it every day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. that I am 33! I have lived a really good life so far, full of adventure and love and have a lot more to go Lord willing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this post is linked to &lt;a href="http://ohamanda.com/"&gt;Top Ten Tuesdys at Oh Amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-9194168104197188445?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/9194168104197188445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/top-10-things-i-am-thankful-for-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/9194168104197188445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/9194168104197188445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/top-10-things-i-am-thankful-for-in.html' title='Top 10 things I am Thankful for... In honor of... THANKSGIVING!!!'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TOwqL17vYHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/euqL1kk-4OI/s72-c/toptentuesday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-8258684349755872807</id><published>2010-11-09T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T11:58:27.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Ten Books I Have Ever Read (well in the past 5 years)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNmnrf6_C6I/AAAAAAAAAC0/UsFvreMzWKg/s1600/toptentuesday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537641582573849506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNmnrf6_C6I/AAAAAAAAAC0/UsFvreMzWKg/s200/toptentuesday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I mention that I am a bit obsessed with reading? If not, I am, it becomes a problem at times because I "live" in books. For example, when I was reading the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Twilight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; series and was out running, I would frequently be on the look out for vampires. I think books, particularly fiction has this amazing gift of actually changing me. Sometimes for the good, sometimes for the bad. Stories are a gift. I am currently reading four fiction books at the same time, one by myself, one with my children, one with my husband, and one just here and there. I actually got my husband to read with me, which is SO exciting, although he doesnt love my book choice, he lets me read while he sketches (he is an artist...&lt;a href="http://professorpaint.blogspot.com/"&gt;professorpaint.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;). It is a bit of quality time for us. So... Here are my Top 10 Books I have read (in the past 5 years) -- I am sure I read others in High School/College, but I think I should read them again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mark of the Lion Series by Francine Rivers -- I think this series is THE MOST life changing series I have EVER read in my life! You should read these books!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory -- Only because it made me realize that history can be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy -- I just really loved this book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The Winter Garden by Kristin Hannah -- I think one of the only books that has ever made me cry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult -- One of the first fiction books I read that made me realize the power of fiction to make me think and give a viewpoint without being in your face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak -- Wonderful, interesting, creative! I loved this book! I want to read it again, now that I am writing it on this list&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini -- I think anyone who reads this book would put it on their top 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. The Gurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Schaffer -- again a book that I just really, really enjoyed reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Still Alice by Lisa Genova -- a book that gave me perspective on something I did not know I wanted perspective on -- alzheimers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Twilight by Stephenie Meyer -- this is kind of silly to me, but these books made reading fun, not life changing, not really intellectually stimulating, but fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it is, my top 10 books! That was harder than I thought!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is submitted to &lt;a href="http://ohamanda.com/2010/11/08/true-southerners-top-ten-tuesday/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Top Ten Tuesday's at Oh Amanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-8258684349755872807?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8258684349755872807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/top-ten-books-i-have-ever-read-well-in.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8258684349755872807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8258684349755872807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/top-ten-books-i-have-ever-read-well-in.html' title='Top Ten Books I Have Ever Read (well in the past 5 years)'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNmnrf6_C6I/AAAAAAAAAC0/UsFvreMzWKg/s72-c/toptentuesday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-8709828565492651580</id><published>2010-11-08T11:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T20:02:15.663-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baptism'/><title type='text'>Baptism</title><content type='html'>This is not a theological post on baptism; this is just a story about my daughter's baptism. First,though, I did not actually complete any of my tasks I set out to complete last week — namely,the making of her dress, sweater, and bonnet. I did complete a hat and started a sweater, had allthe pieces ironed and cut out for the dress, but then realized my sewing machine somehow wasmissing one of the major parts AND I just did not have time to complete any of the projects.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, there was a dress in the family, my sister-in-law over-nighted it to us, and it wasbeautiful! Despite my plans and attempt at doing everything, nothing went as planned, and I wasnot able to do much of anything! I find it a bit amusing (and humbling) when things happen thatway, and I feel like a total failure. But I am somehow ok with it anyway because life has to goon, and that is just what happened. Life went on.&lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful fall day. My baby is my fourth to be baptized, but, to be honest, with the firstthree, it was more of a faith/following-my-husband thing. This one was an exciting type thing. And she did great.&lt;br /&gt;Our priest read during the baptism: Baby four is baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and then he said, Baby four is sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ's own forever. Amen. I wanted to scream, SHE IS MARKED AS HISOWN! FOREVER! It is sealed; it is done; take that, enemy! You are not allowed near this child!&lt;br /&gt;It gave me goose bumps and joy, knowing that my child, this precious little girl, all my childrenare marked as His; they are claimed! What a joyful day!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537302664976698882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNhzb5fCjgI/AAAAAAAAACs/WBbymCkf4xk/s320/PB070354.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-8709828565492651580?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8709828565492651580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/baptism.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8709828565492651580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/8709828565492651580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/baptism.html' title='Baptism'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TNhzb5fCjgI/AAAAAAAAACs/WBbymCkf4xk/s72-c/PB070354.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-7224436889008110365</id><published>2010-11-05T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T13:57:00.812-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><title type='text'>If You Give a Mom a Coffee... (an updated version of an old post)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;If you give a mom a coffee, she will probably ask for cream.                                                            And as she pours the cream, it might remind her of a funny story about a two year old, cream and a coffee of his own.&lt;br /&gt;She will probably sit to share the story. And stories might be shared back and forth for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;She might realize she is really hungry because she forgot to eat dinner, and ask for a piece of cake.                                                                                                                                                               If she asks for a piece of cake, she will probably want a fork.                                                               If she asks for a fork, she might think about all the dishes waiting for her at home.                        If she thinks about home, she might think about her children running around instead of sleeping in bed.                                                                                                                                                            If she thinks about bed she might realize that she is absolutely exhausted.                                  And as exhaustion  threatens her need to be productive, she might ask for a refill on her coffee.                                                                                                                                                         And if she asks for a refill on coffee, you know what probably comes next!                                       But, please always give a mom her coffee!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-7224436889008110365?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7224436889008110365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/if-you-give-mom-coffee-updated-version.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7224436889008110365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7224436889008110365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/if-you-give-mom-coffee-updated-version.html' title='If You Give a Mom a Coffee... (an updated version of an old post)'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-5623066597930851980</id><published>2010-11-04T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T19:58:00.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that Break my Heart (in a good way)</title><content type='html'>I had no idea that these wonderful people in my life could break my heart... in a good way because I love them more than I ever thought possible. I want to protect them from every hurt, every broken dream, every sadness. I hate having them sad, BUT I love that I get to be the one that is there when their hurts need kissing, their dreams need redreaming and they need to laugh. Recently my eight year old confided in me that she gets nervous in her gymnastics class because all the girls talk, but she doesn't know what to talk to them about and she feels weird. It broke my heart because who couldn't like this girl. She is AMAZING, I know, I know, I am her mom, BUT she is beautiful, she laughs easily, there is no one she doesn't like, she leads, but not too loudly, and her heart is huge. And I just want to protect her from all the hurt in the world. I want to go into that class and tell them, what a great girl she is. But instead we talked a little about what you can talk to people about and about maybe asking them questions. And I was so thankful that at eight she still felt like she could come to me and tell me that this is hard for her. Then a few days later her little brother, my darling two year old had her read him some good old fashioned Calvin and Hobbes cartoons. You could tell he resonated with Calvin, the mischief and adventure suit him well. He requested a cape and mask, and his daddy eagerly agreed to make one for him. He put the cape and mask on, and ran down the hallway, he then turned to run back as his WHOLE family cheered him on, and you could see this look in his eye, excitement and joy, and he leaped into the air, followed by a serious flop on his face, and then the tears. At first, I thought he injured himself, but then I realized physically he was fine, but his heart was broken. Through tears he explained that he honestly thought he would be in the air. He did not understand why he could not fly. His dream was crushed. He even proceeded to ask me to go to the store to buy some batteries to help him. My eyes burned as I saw my little man's dreams crushed. But so thankful that as a stay at home mom, I get to see these dreams, pick him up in his superhero costume, dust off the cape hug him, and tell him that he should keep dreaming. What a blessing it is to have little people in my life that break my heart because I love them that much, I feel everything they do, I am so thankful&lt;br /&gt;This post is for the 30 minute blog challenge on &lt;a href="http://www.steadymom.com/"&gt;Steady mom's blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-5623066597930851980?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5623066597930851980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-that-break-my-heart-in-good-way.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/5623066597930851980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/5623066597930851980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-that-break-my-heart-in-good-way.html' title='Things that Break my Heart (in a good way)'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4562241068552108990</id><published>2010-11-03T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T11:39:42.570-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homeschool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>Crazy, Even for Me</title><content type='html'>So, my week started with this random thing. I had noticed in several places a women's name, she is part of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt; group I am in, her daughter was a student in one of my husband's classes, her name sometimes showed up in the emails from a running club I always intended to join but never did ( but still got emails from, just in case)...finally I got an email from a classical &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt; thing I was interested in, and her name was on the sending e-mail. So, I randomly sent her an email saying, we have all these connections. We became &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; friends and realized we have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;another&lt;/span&gt; random connection- she used to mentor teen moms with the same program I just started mentoring with. She is good friends with the leader of this branch, when I told the leader I had just met this woman, she said, "didn't I tell you when I first met you that you reminded me of someone? Well that is who you reminded me of." So we met  this morning, this the crazy part--we met at 5 a.m. to run 6 miles in the pitch dark. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; run more than 4.5 since my baby was born 4 months &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ago&lt;/span&gt;. And I finished it, running the whole way (no walk breaks) I think it is really neat when something like this happens and you realize how small the world is, and I can't help but think there is a reason for it all, that in God's purpose, this woman and I were meant to meet, even if it is just to help me realize that I am not that crazy because there is someone out there a whole lot like me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4562241068552108990?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4562241068552108990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/crazy-even-for-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4562241068552108990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4562241068552108990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/crazy-even-for-me.html' title='Crazy, Even for Me'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-6975598470116371682</id><published>2010-11-02T12:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T20:26:55.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A post from a previous blog (one of the try, try again ones,) on a really busy day</title><content type='html'>Supermom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my first child was born she did not come out carrying a cape and tights for me to put on. She came out screaming and needy. I wish she had come out with the outfit, it may have seemed strange, but it would have clued this first time mom into the fact that the expectations of a mother are far from wimpy. They are the expectations of a superhero. Sometimes, I can hear in my head the announcer from one of those movies, “It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it is a mom running full speed across the kitchen to catch the egg her daughter has gotten from the refrigerator to “help” make cookies.” Amazingly, with the grace of God, we as mothers are given superhero powers to care for these little people He has placed in our hands. Motherhood is amazing, beautiful, fun, and difficult. It is all the adjectives used to describe something great and worth a lot of effort. It is all I imagined it to be and more. What I could not imagine was the strength necessary to be a good mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mother is given by God the superpower of making milk. A mother can provide her child with all she needs, all the food, vitamins and nourishment for her new little one. She is given the gift of supersonic hearing. A Mom can hear her child’s cry before he actually cries. Maybe it is the way he rolls in bed, the roll that clues her into the fact that her sweet child is not completely asleep or starting to stir. Sometimes it is the strength to get up to put the pacifier back in his mouth for the eighteenth time. And so often it takes just a touch, a hand on the cheek, a pat on the back and he drifts back into dream land. And have you seen a mother’s smile? It is magic. The smile in a mother’s eyes and on her lips that instantly sends her baby into fits of belly laughing. I have heard it in the grocery store, the mall or a church pew. It is the laugh that sends &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; into fits of laughter upon just hearing it. It is a strong woman, wise enough to know that laughter almost always wins out over tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The memory goes a little more with each child, a “holey memory.” A mother filters out the bad and holds onto the good. She has the strength to open her hands and let go of the things she does not want to hold on to, and to grasp ever so tightly those memories she will always desire. The gift of elocution is a mom having the ability to talk about poop and spit-up with utter fascination for hours. A mother is able to work while sleeping. Mothers can change diapers, make dinner, and direct children on just hours of sleep. A never- ending supply of sweet kisses abide in a mother’s grasp. She can heal a booboo with those kisses in an instant. She has the voice of an angel. This one I am particularly fond of since I do not have one, but my children love it when I whisper songs in their ears. When all these superhuman powers do not work, she relies on the regular human ones. Arms that carry thousands of loads of laundry, scrub floors, wash dishes and carry pounds of groceries, the same arms gently lift this child and walk, on legs that chase children and climb stairs for one last kiss. The mother carries her precious colicky child for hours with patience far greater than any she ever imagined. The mother carries her child and loves with the strength of a mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what would this superhero wear? Besides cute shoes? There probably would not be an outfit my daughter could have come out with to prepare me for it all. Maybe it could have a charming red purse to put my kisses in. Whatever the outfit, it would probably not be pretty at all times, but definitely made with grace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-6975598470116371682?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6975598470116371682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/post-from-previous-blog-one-of-try-try.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6975598470116371682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6975598470116371682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/post-from-previous-blog-one-of-try-try.html' title='A post from a previous blog (one of the try, try again ones,) on a really busy day'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-2768604548301605629</id><published>2010-11-01T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T12:40:26.039-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='projects'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crochet'/><title type='text'>A little progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So, I started Saturday, and actually got a hat crocheted and all the fabric bought, cut out, ironed and set, but sewing machine is missing parts-well one part, but it is an important one I think... so a trip to the store is in order. In the mean time, here is the hat...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534668003592502530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TM8XOa_Z_QI/AAAAAAAAACk/5vISJdHK2yI/s320/PB010339.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Hopefully more will get done tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-2768604548301605629?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2768604548301605629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/little-progress.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2768604548301605629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2768604548301605629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/11/little-progress.html' title='A little progress'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZCI51E4rO2U/TM8XOa_Z_QI/AAAAAAAAACk/5vISJdHK2yI/s72-c/PB010339.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-6416496194158980896</id><published>2010-10-30T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T07:44:40.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here we go....</title><content type='html'>I am completely aware, that I always "over do it." I always try to make everything home-made and perfect. It usually ends up home-made never perfect and sometimes on desperate occassions from a plastic grocery store container. I have not gotten over the shame of not doing everything myself. And I am not exactly sure where I get this from, because it is COMPLETELY NOT my upbringing. I have a great mom, she knows how to do a lot, she just never made herself do everything, and we NEVER had people over. Somehow, I got wired to want to have people over, but then to have to also make everything perfect. To the point that I drive myself crazy! So this week starts a week of projects: sewing my baby girl's baptism dress, knitting a sweater and hat and some cute hand mitteny type things for myself, that is all, and a week? With homeschooling, extra meetings, teaching a couple of classes at our co-op, I am sure I have time! I will try to add at least pictures as the journey starts. Warning: My hair may be crazy all the time and my house will probably be a mess in the background, but hopefully by next weekend I will have it all done and a little time to clean!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-6416496194158980896?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6416496194158980896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/here-we-go.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6416496194158980896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/6416496194158980896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/here-we-go.html' title='Here we go....'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-2389974872627583429</id><published>2010-10-28T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T18:15:04.611-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>Books, Books and more books</title><content type='html'>If you noticed in my little "about me" section, I read OBSESSIVELY. It is a bit of a problem, a compulsion. Once I get into a book it is difficult for me to do anything else including sleep or eat. (I do make sure my kids eat and sleep though- I am not completely useless)&lt;br /&gt;I am currently reading: Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins&lt;br /&gt;                                          Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann&lt;br /&gt;Just Finished Reading: Her Mother's Hope by Francine Rivers&lt;br /&gt;Want to Read: Her Daughter's Dream by Francine Rivers&lt;br /&gt;                          The Help&lt;br /&gt;... and all Time Favorite Books: The Book Thief&lt;br /&gt;                                                        Mark of the Lion Series by Francine Rivers&lt;br /&gt;                                                       Twilight Series&lt;br /&gt;                                                       The Other Boleyn Girl&lt;br /&gt;                                                       My Sister's Keeper&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-2389974872627583429?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2389974872627583429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/books-books-and-more-books.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2389974872627583429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/2389974872627583429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/books-books-and-more-books.html' title='Books, Books and more books'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4229985678182547572</id><published>2010-10-27T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T13:55:21.876-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='triathlon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>Running Journey, Part 2</title><content type='html'>So, I had become a "need to" runner. BUT I still ran a 10 minute mile. Until the day I met Chris, well at least I think that was his name. (obviously an influential individual in my life.) Rumor was that he had been a body guard for the spice girls and I think an interior designer. My friend and I had been training ourselves for a triathlon and needed some open water experience. We had heard of this group that got together at the lake to swim during the week, and since we thought that was illegal, we decided maybe going with a group would make it less illegal? Anyways, we talked to him to see if we could just show up and swim with them, since the race was just two weeks away and they had been training all summer. He said, "why don't you join our group?" (with a strong british accent.) They let us pay for just the next 4 training sessions- $20, we went for it. And it was worth it. He believed for some odd reason that even though I ran 10 minute miles, that I could run an 8 minute mile. He taught me the importance of speed training in both my swim and my run. And after two weeks of training I faced the race with mostly fear and a little confidence. After a 1/2 mile swim and an 18 mile bike, I ran the 5 miles to the finish line in 42 minutes, just over 8 minute miles, nowhere near 10 minute miles. And suddenly I wasn't just addicted to running I was addicted to becoming a better runner. So, now another 25k later and another triathlon later and one more precious little girl later, I am facing my goal. I want to run Chicago next year. And maybe even with 8 minute miles?!?!? We will see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4229985678182547572?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4229985678182547572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/running-journey-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4229985678182547572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4229985678182547572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/running-journey-part-2.html' title='Running Journey, Part 2'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-1392751661276388902</id><published>2010-10-26T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T13:38:09.558-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>Running Journey, Part 1</title><content type='html'>I guess after 15 years of running, I finally consider myself a runner. And since running is one of the few things I have actually followed through on in my life, why not write about it. Many, well lets say most people think I am insane. I LOVE to run. It is not just an "I ate two pieces of cake last night" or a "my jeans are getting a little snug" type thing. It is not even my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hypochondriacal&lt;/span&gt; mind telling me that if I don't run my arteries will clog and I will die. It is a NEED. Kind of a silly need because growing up I could not run a mile. I can remember dreading that test in gym class and for many years getting out if it because I had asthma. I was "excused" from running. Then one year my mom must have forgotten to write the note or it came on the wrong day, because I had to run. And I still remember I ran it in like 14 minutes and my face was beat red the entire rest of the day. But somewhere deep down inside there was this sense of pride, that I actually ran a mile, I had been given the excuse my entire life that I could not run. And then my dad, who has never really given me any great advice came up with this one little golden nugget. He said, "your lungs are like any other muscle, if you exercise them, they will get stronger." Apparently he had heard that loose quote from some former president of the United States, and well it stuck with me. It stuck with me until college, when I started to run. It started with a sneaking off to a street behind campus where no one could actually see me run, a block, and then sneaking back to my dorm room. I soon was able to run 2 miles, then 3 pretty comfortably. I got set in my pace of 10 minute miles. I ran for 30 minutes almost every day in college. And after college, I found my running routes wherever we moved, marked out 3 miles and ran. Then one day I found myself some running partners and we decided to train for a race, my third child was one month old when I started training, and he was 5 months, when I ran my first 25K and my running life changed to a NEED...my running journey to be continued&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-1392751661276388902?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1392751661276388902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/running-journeypart-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1392751661276388902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/1392751661276388902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/10/running-journeypart-1.html' title='Running Journey, Part 1'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-594333284165328478</id><published>2010-09-15T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T07:53:29.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankfulness</title><content type='html'>Well, I am starting to try to be thankful. Changing from an "I deserve" to a "thankful" And I am thankful. I am thankful that I have a reason to be really, really tired... I have a family that loves me. I am blessed with four beautiful children. I get to spend all day with my children. I have a husband who works really hard. I have a house that I need to clean. I have legs that let me run. I can smell and taste coffee. And in the middle of a really, really sometimes overwhelming always crazy day that I may want to quit. Instead of feeling like I need to reward myself, I am going to work on being thankful for what I do have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-594333284165328478?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/594333284165328478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/thankfulness.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/594333284165328478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/594333284165328478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/thankfulness.html' title='Thankfulness'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-7110284730385041052</id><published>2010-09-14T11:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T11:35:51.724-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mothering'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contentment'/><title type='text'>Contentment</title><content type='html'>I am determined to teach my kids contentment. But why is it so hard? Probably because they see the restlessness in my spirit. So, I guess I am starting with teaching myself contentment. I have always felt my husband and I live pretty simply. Given "pretty simple" does not even always allow for our bills to be paid, but I honestly do not sometimes know where to give up things. We have basic cable, and this is the first time in 10 years we have paid for cable. We have internet, but eveyone has internet. We have cell phones, but dont text on them or go online, it is a simple plan. We need air conditioning and heat. And lets face it when the baby has not slept through the night in forever and I was up til 2 in the morning and I have to face grocery shopping with all four kids, successfully homeschooling, make lunch, do laundry, figure out babysitting for tonight, etc. I do deserve a grande nonfat no whip mocha from Starbucks. That is not extravagant living, that is living with just needs. Right? I am kidding myself I know. I just read this book, &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Winter-Garden/Kristin-Hannah/e/9781429938464/?itm=1&amp;amp;USRI=WInter+Garden"&gt;Winter Garden&lt;/a&gt;, by Kristin Hannah. The book in part describes the life in Russia during Stalin's rule, and all I can say to myself is, "you have no idea how good you have it."&lt;br /&gt;And then I hear the complaints from my children, always wanting there to be something fun about the day. "Can we have a special lunch?" "Are we getting donuts at the grocery store?" "Can we order pizza and watch a movie tonight?" "Can we have a picnic in front of the TV tonight?" "Can I just buy this little sticker book? PLEASE!!!" And not surprising most of these things come with the expectation that I will say Yes. Because I constantly am rewarding myself or giving myself treats. It is how I make it through my day. But what happened to hard work? Now I do work hard, but does that mean I should be rewarded for it, shouldn't I just work hard for the sake of working hard? Isn't that how I was created? To work? I am disturbed by my need to entertain, treat, reward myself for every one of my accomplishments. And I am more disturbed how I am passing this on to my children. So I am starting with myself. In giving up my "treats" and "rewards" for hard work. And trying to be thankful that I have work to do, that I have four children to care for and a house that needs cleaning.I am attempting to turn my "deserving" heart into a "thankful" heart in hopes that my children might see and maybe a change of heart as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-7110284730385041052?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7110284730385041052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/contentment.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7110284730385041052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/7110284730385041052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/contentment.html' title='Contentment'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-3825862682286657902</id><published>2010-09-13T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T13:03:05.704-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible Study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homeschool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mondays'/><title type='text'>Manic Monday</title><content type='html'>Mondays are crazy for every reason under the sun. But there has to be one, right? There has to be a day that starts the week, that changes how we were living in complete relaxing bliss to utter chaos. That is kind of how I look at Mondays. Sundays, we go to church and then watch football. I used to work on Sundays, but now I am home with my family. And it is complete bliss (that may be an overstatement) But it is nice.&lt;br /&gt;And then all of a sudden out of nowhere comes Monday, I have to run, because if I don't run on Monday, I may not run all week. I will just keep telling myself, "I haven't run yet, why start now." So I go for my 4 mile run. Then I eat breakfast while nursing my two month old, try to get her down for an early morning nap to start homeschooling my 3rd grader and kindergartener while my two year old just throws things. That is not ALL he does, but it is what sticks out because I think it is so weird, why do you have to throw everything? Maybe it is because he is my only boy. Anyways, I try to keep him happy while working with my kindergartener on reading and my third grader on math, reading, spelling, etc. My third grader hates reading, and this is the first year I am starting to wonder if maybe she has some sort of reading disability, like dyslexia, so I am trying new reading exercises with her. And all I want is for them to be brave, wise, humble, intelligent members of society with a little bit of a sense of humor when they grow up, and that is what I am shooting for. But usually I settle for "made it through" members of society. The kind that just get by, because that is all I see. I dont want them to be just "made it through" but sometimes in the middle, maybe I can't really see the whole picture. And then today, BREAKTHROUGH and it even happened on a Monday. My third grader insisted on reading the entire first chapter of Genesis. And she did it beautifully. So I guess I am ready for Tuesday... well after visit with friends, gymnastics, meeting and planning for the rest of the week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-3825862682286657902?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3825862682286657902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/manic-monday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3825862682286657902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/3825862682286657902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/manic-monday.html' title='Manic Monday'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7200881265533183792.post-4468155891521653230</id><published>2010-09-11T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T19:47:47.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If at First You Dont Succeed Try, Try Again...</title><content type='html'>...and then keep trying? Well that is what I am doing. I started this blog two years ago, and was completely unsuccessful, but despite my unsuccess, I feel the need to write. So I am back to try once again at the world of blogging. I have tried to write several blogs -- one blog on reading, a blog on writing, and a random blog. None of them have lasted more than a week. I lack commitment, of that I am certain.&lt;br /&gt;So, I am trying again, with some consistency to write. I am trying because at some level, I NEED to write.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7200881265533183792-4468155891521653230?l=cafeaumommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4468155891521653230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/if-at-first-you-dont-succeed-try-try.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4468155891521653230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7200881265533183792/posts/default/4468155891521653230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeaumommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/if-at-first-you-dont-succeed-try-try.html' title='If at First You Dont Succeed Try, Try Again...'/><author><name>Cafe au Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15644900990922372765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
