<?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-5681800945366918160</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:24:27.295-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Going On In My Life??</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-8186913984659242395</id><published>2010-07-29T19:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T19:12:53.525-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God Bless The Last Ones</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I know I have been talking about my Liv a lot lately, but I am  constantly in amazement at the heart that is developing in that girl!   She has a knack for befriending children that no one else wants to be  friends with.  She always has.  I don't know if it's because she herself  has a disability so she feels a kinship with others who may have a  disability or what.This  week, there has been a boy at VBS that falls into this category of kids  that usually become Liv's friend.  From the first day, he stood out to  me as being a little different and I could tell that he was struggling  to make friends.  A c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;ouple  of days later I noticed that Liv had indeed befriended him and was  excited to see him during snack and opening/closing times.  Today  especially I noticed that they would go up front to dance to the songs.   They were both having a great time.  So tonight at supper I asked her  who this boy was, how old he is, if he is in her crew, etc.  And she  told me his name, that he is 12 years old, and that he's not in her  crew.  So, I asked her how she got to know him.  She said one day at  closing, he walked by her and she read his name on his nametag.  She  asked him if that was his name, and he said yes.  He told her that he  was lonely and didn't have any friends at our VBS, and she said "I'll be  your friend!!"  And indeed she is!  She is sitting at the table right  now writing him a letter because tomorrow is our last day at VBS.  I  pray that if this boy doesn't know Jesus that he can see God's love for  him through Liv.  There's a song by Matthew West called "Last Ones" that  always makes me think of Liv.  She doesn't see color, she doesn't see  age, she doesn't see disabilities, she sees the heart and the need of  other kids around her.  I wish I was more like her....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;a href="http://http//www.sing365.com/music/Lyric.nsf/The-Last-Ones-lyrics-Matthew-West/6B73398AA70A370B482572A800139750"&gt;http://www.sing365.com/music/Lyric.nsf/The-Last-Ones-lyrics-Matthew-West/6B73398AA70A370B482572A800139750&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-8186913984659242395?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/8186913984659242395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2010/07/god-bless-last-ones.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/8186913984659242395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/8186913984659242395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2010/07/god-bless-last-ones.html' title='God Bless The Last Ones'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-378219493223387087</id><published>2010-01-21T18:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T18:38:20.464-06:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Paper Chain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/S1jxM98-rWI/AAAAAAAAAHg/l9LQB3wAnuA/s1600-h/paper+chain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 108px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/S1jxM98-rWI/AAAAAAAAAHg/l9LQB3wAnuA/s400/paper+chain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429354555886185826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our house, when there is some event we are looking forward to, we make a paper chain.  You know, the strips of construction paper that you make links out of and join them together.  For every day that passes, you tear off one of the links.  This week in homeschool, we made a paper chain to count down the days we have left of school, which is also the number of school days until our baby is born.  (57 at the time, by the way)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we had made the chain and hung it up about our school desks, I was cleaning up our supplies.  A thought occurred to me as I looked at the chain in great anticipation of meeting our new little one.   "Does God have a paper chain?"   I mean, not literally, I suppose.  I guess what was going through my mind was "Is God counting down the days until we are all together again?"  "Does God look forward to being with me as much as I am looking forward to being with Him?   We've talking about Heaven in church the past couple of weeks, and it has me thinking a lot about it lately.  What will it be like?  What will we look like?  Will we get to do our favorite things?  Will we get to enjoy our favorite foods (without the calories)?  It's been interesting to think about the past couple of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that God does not have an actual paper chain, like we do at our house.  But I do know one thing: Only God knows when we will be together.  Only God knows how many days we have on Earth.  Recently, a friend of the family was killed in a car accident.  58 years old.  Fortunately, she knew God and loved God.  She knew that morning when she got up that if anything happened to her, she would go to be with Jesus.  I pray that we all come to live in that certainty.  That if the last link on God's paper chain for our lives is torn off today, we will know that we will be with Jesus in Heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-378219493223387087?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/378219493223387087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2010/01/gods-paper-chain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/378219493223387087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/378219493223387087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2010/01/gods-paper-chain.html' title='God&apos;s Paper Chain'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/S1jxM98-rWI/AAAAAAAAAHg/l9LQB3wAnuA/s72-c/paper+chain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-917066349044190988</id><published>2010-01-21T18:06:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T18:28:01.386-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Son Shines On Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/S1js02p2mdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Ug7AGGdGfl8/s1600-h/sun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/S1js02p2mdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Ug7AGGdGfl8/s400/sun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429349743563545042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love my house.  I love keeping it clean.  It is such a gift from God.  We live in a 100 year old farm house that my great great grandfather built.  I never could have imagined living here, and now that we do, I can't imagine living anywhere else.  It's just perfect for us.&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago I was cleaning in the kitchen.  I had done all of the dishes. I had scrubbed all of the counter tops.  I had vacuumed and washed the hardwood laminate floor.  It looked IMMACULATELY clean.  I was stepped back to admire my hard work.  It looked pretty darn good to me.  That was until...&lt;br /&gt;I OPENED THE CURTAINS!  It was an unusually nice day out and I decided to open the curtains and let some sunshine in.&lt;br /&gt;In that instant, my kitchen which looked so perfectly clean before, now looked....well, not so clean.  As I opened the curtains to let the sunshine in, it revealed streaks on the floor, crumbs under the cabinets that I missed, and spots on the counter top that weren't quite cleaned off all the way.  My first instinct was just to close the curtains and say "It looked good before."  But, I didn't.  I got back out my cleaning supplies and took care of the areas that the sunshine had revealed.&lt;br /&gt;As I was cleaning, I was thinking.   This is how my life becomes when the SON shines on it.  I may think that I've got everything all under control.  I'm reading my bible....almost every day.  I'm going to church every Sunday.  I'm teaching my kids about God.  I'm sponsoring needy children in other countries. I'm giving money to the church.  My life, to most people, probably looks like I'm a "good person".  However, when the SON shines on my life, I realize the areas that I need to work on.  I lose my temper too quickly with my kids and my husband.  I am too quick to judge others.  The list can go on and on some days.&lt;br /&gt;But just as my kitchen needed that sunshine to reveal to me the spots that needed deeper cleaning, so do I need the SON to shine on my life and show me where I need to make changes to walk more closely with him.  I want to be the kind of mother, wife, friend, sister, daughter and Christ follower that He wants me to be.  And I can't do that if I'm not letting the SON shine into my life to show me the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-917066349044190988?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/917066349044190988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2010/01/son-shines-on-me-i-love-my-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/917066349044190988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/917066349044190988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2010/01/son-shines-on-me-i-love-my-house.html' title='The Son Shines On Me'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/S1js02p2mdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Ug7AGGdGfl8/s72-c/sun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-3239996388733925082</id><published>2009-07-24T09:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T09:55:38.435-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Again with the WHY</title><content type='html'>I know I sound like a broken record, but I believe in a sovereign God.  I believe that everything that happens does so for a reason.  I just WISH I knew what those reasons were.  If I had a genie in a bottle that was ready to grant me three wishes TODAY, they would be 1.  that my oldest daughter could live her life free from hearing aids  2.  that my youngest daughter would be able to breathe without having surgery  and  3.  I want to know WHY these things have happened to them.   WHY do I have to keep watching my children go through medical procedures, constant doctors' visits, pain, uncomfortable and sometimes scary things??  WHY can't my children be like all of their cousins who only have to go see their doctor for their regular checkups?  WHY MY CHILDREN???  &lt;br /&gt;I know that in the grand scheme of things, the things that are "wrong" with them are very minor.  But the Mommy side of me has a heart that breaks every time we go to the doctor and find out something that needs surgery or correcting or whatever. &lt;br /&gt;My youngest had surgery this morning to determine why she can't breathe out of the right side of her nose and why her nose is always running on that side.  We were hoping for the doctor to come in and tell us that he removed whatever was in there and she'll be just fine.  Instead, after 20 minutes, he came in and told us that she has a condition with some fancy name that basically means that her right nasal passage is collapsed.  There is a tiny pinhole of air for her to breathe through on that side.  He is referring us to another doctor/surgeon who can do a surgery to open up her nasal passage on that side so she breathe/smell.  Not at all the answer we were looking for.  So it has left us wondering when should we do the surgery?  Should we wait until she's older and more developed?  Does it need to be done now?  WHY couldn't it have just been something that could have been taken care of today??  Why do we have to watch her suffer through more anesthesia and iv's, etc.???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it probably sounds like I'm whining and complaining.  And I probably am.  And I know that once I am up with my Lord and my girls are there in their perfectly healthy bodies, it will not matter.  My "whys" will soon be forgotten I'm sure.  But here, on this earth, today in this hour, I am left wondering yet again....why???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-3239996388733925082?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/3239996388733925082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/07/again-with-why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/3239996388733925082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/3239996388733925082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/07/again-with-why.html' title='Again with the WHY'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-2172165152517482066</id><published>2009-05-14T21:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T22:18:10.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on Death and Dying...</title><content type='html'>Some things have been happening around me lately that have me thinking and feeling in ways that I haven't before. My faith has grown and changed a lot in the past few years.  I have been tested many times and my faith has grown stronger because of those times.  I believe that there is a lot about faith in God that God allows us to know, so that we can learn and grow in Him.  However, I also believe that there are also things that we are not supposed to know the answers to.  After all, if we knew everything about God, why would we need Him?   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently my husband had a friend that died from cancer at the age of 20.  He was a good kid.  He was a Christian.  Why did he have to die?  I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;My husband's grandfather is 84 years old is probably in his last few days on Earth.  He has been in a lot of pain and struggling for several months.  Why is this happening to him?  I don't know.  I don't think we are supposed to know.  I think that's part of faith.  Not knowing why things happen, but believing in the sovereignty of God through it all.  I do not believe that people die because they choose to die, or because they didn't believe that God could heal them.  And I get very aggravated with people who think this way.  I have known many amazing Christ followers who have gotten sick with one thing or another and have died.  Is that because they didn't believe that God could heal them?  Or they didn't pray enough?  Or they chose to give into the illness and die?  NO!  They loved life.  They loved God.  They prayed constantly for healing, for a miracle that never came.  Was that their fault in any way??  NO!!  I don't belive so at all!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe that God wants everything to go perfectly in our lives.  The Bible promises over and over again that we WILL have trials.  We WILL have difficult things happen to us and around us.  Time and time again in the Bible it says that God allowed "bad" things to happen to people so that their faith would be tested and they could grow stronger in their faith.  I believe that God allows things to happen in our lives to do just that.  I don't believe that people can "will themselves" to be well.  I think that God wants us to fully rely on Him for our healing, but that our healing doesn't always come here on Earth.  I don't know why it is like that, and I don't think we are supposed to know.  I don't know why some people are healed of terrible diseases, like cancer, and some do not receive their healing on Earth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray all of the time for daughter, who has a disability.  I know that God has the power to take her disability away.  I believe with every fiber of my being that He could take away her disability this instant.  If it is His will.  Does it mean that we are not praying enough or we are choosing to give up on God?  Absolutely not.  I would LOVE to see my daughter live free from this disability!!!  And I firmly believe in the healing power of my Lord and Savior to heal her of this disability!  But I know that whatever happens here on Earth, we will rejoice together when we get to Heaven in seeing her live a life healed of this disability!!!  Praise God!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God wants us to fully rely on Him, even when faced with things that seem like they have no end or no chance of a positive outcome, even when faced with death.  Give everything to Him.  Don't try and act like you have all the answers, or know what God is thinking/doing!  BECAUSE YOU DON'T!  No one is supposed to know everything about the way God works.  All we can do it BELIEVE in Him, TRUST in Him and GIVE OUR LIVES to Him!  And he promises that he will be there every step of the way, lifting us up, growing us in our faith and leading us to what He's promised---a life with Him forever---healed of EVERYTHING that could possibly afflict us on Earth!!  AMEN!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-2172165152517482066?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/2172165152517482066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/05/thoughts-on-death-and-dying.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/2172165152517482066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/2172165152517482066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/05/thoughts-on-death-and-dying.html' title='Thoughts on Death and Dying...'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-4097730006075039264</id><published>2009-03-27T10:01:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T12:18:54.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Seasons Are Changing</title><content type='html'>I've always heard people talk about "seasons" in life, but only recently have I been feeling the effects of these seasons in my own life.  Right now, there are a lot of seasons changing in my life.  And I'm left wondering the timeless question "Why God?".  Why did God bring us to a place that we loved and bring great people in our lives that we will always love, and then tell us that it was time to leave?  Why have friends that I've known for years suddenly fallen out of my life?  Why has it taken this long for my husband to finish his degree?  Why did I go to school for years only to teach for 5 years?  There are many more "whys" where those came from!  Changing seasons is hard.  It's frustrating and exciting all at the same time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0Jcas894I/AAAAAAAAAG0/tgRxwfDolWI/s1600-h/spring+tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0Jcas894I/AAAAAAAAAG0/tgRxwfDolWI/s320/spring+tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317917118803277698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could see into the future and understand why all of this is happening.  If I could have one superpower, that's what it would be.  It would be rather handy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0Jmfw4AGI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Yhtlr6c1_js/s1600-h/summer+tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0Jmfw4AGI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Yhtlr6c1_js/s320/summer+tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317917291960598626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had it my way, I'd stay in one place and have the same friends for the rest of my life.  I don't like change.  I don't like new and uncomfortable situations.  I'm not a huge fan of meeting new people and making new friends.  I think this stems from years of disappointing situations with friends.  My whole life I've always wanted one friend that was a best friend.  A girlfriend that I would get together with every week and we would chat and our kids would play.  One person that I could do everything with, who I felt like I could call at a moment's notice and we'd go do something together any time, all the time.  I've never had this kind of friend.  So I think when I meet new people, it's hard for me to open up and start building friendships because I feel like I'm just setting myself up for disappointment.  SO many friends in my life have disappointed me.  I have had so many friendships end because someone more fun or more popular has come along.  It has made me very leery about going to new places and making new friends.  But in a recent conversation I realized that some of these friendships were "seasonal" friendships.  I may have been frustrated that they ended or we're not as close as we once were, but maybe it's because God only brought them into my life for a season.  Maybe something was going on at the time that I needed them in my life or they needed me in theirs.  For whatever reason, God brought us together maybe just for that season of our lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0Jw4klK7I/AAAAAAAAAHE/faO13DheGSA/s1600-h/autumn+tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0Jw4klK7I/AAAAAAAAAHE/faO13DheGSA/s320/autumn+tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317917470418611122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the same way with the other seasons that are changing in my life right now.  I may not understand why things are happening the way they are, but I trust with all of my heart that God knows what He's doing.  He loves me and He wants the best for me.  Even though it's hard, I need to not worry about why things are happening the way they are, but continue to trust that He's holding me in His hand and He's guiding my life every step of the way.  He has a plan for me and it's better than anything I could ever think or imagine.  He promises that in His word.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0J4AGaauI/AAAAAAAAAHM/RRv5E5lbWW8/s1600-h/winter+tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0J4AGaauI/AAAAAAAAAHM/RRv5E5lbWW8/s320/winter+tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317917592698645218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the next season of my life going to bring?  I have NO idea!  But I know above all that I have a God that loves me.  That loves me SO much in fact that He gave His only Son to die for ME....for ME!  He wants me to be the best woman I can be; the best friend I can be; the best mother I can be; the best daughter I can be; the best wife I can be.  He will continue to push me and challenge me and strengthen me by bringing me through many different seasons in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-4097730006075039264?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/4097730006075039264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/03/seasons-are-changing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/4097730006075039264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/4097730006075039264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/03/seasons-are-changing.html' title='The Seasons Are Changing'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/Sc0Jcas894I/AAAAAAAAAG0/tgRxwfDolWI/s72-c/spring+tree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-8555637599012634692</id><published>2009-02-17T16:31:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T22:49:49.557-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love This Guy....And Our Girls Do Too!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK3o1WrkI/AAAAAAAAAF8/T6y4ssk663Y/s1600-h/CSC_0108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK3o1WrkI/AAAAAAAAAF8/T6y4ssk663Y/s320/CSC_0108.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303915305873354306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK3dKhQQI/AAAAAAAAAF0/VgMMeQjEpg0/s1600-h/DSC_0132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK3dKhQQI/AAAAAAAAAF0/VgMMeQjEpg0/s320/DSC_0132.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303915302740902146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK3FI0JYI/AAAAAAAAAFs/yftvlX9BqZ4/s1600-h/DSC_0125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK3FI0JYI/AAAAAAAAAFs/yftvlX9BqZ4/s320/DSC_0125.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303915296291300738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK21pUIhI/AAAAAAAAAFk/-vS2IWGE9oc/s1600-h/DSC_0117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK21pUIhI/AAAAAAAAAFk/-vS2IWGE9oc/s320/DSC_0117.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303915292132647442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many reasons I love my husband, but one of them is that he is a great Daddy to my girls!  About an hour before J came home from work Friday, our oldest O asked "Can we have a Valentine's Dance with Daddy?"  I told her that I thought that would be alright and she proceeded to frantically cut hearts from pink and red construction paper and tape them all over the livingroom.  She was SO excited!  When J walked in, O told him about our dance and he thought it was my idea!  I told him how excited she was about the whole thing and after dinner, he took our ipod player into the livingroom and chose some music and they began to dance.  It was priceless.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This moment touched me for many many reasons, but what made me the happiest I think was knowing how much J HATES dancing!  I mean, he hates dancing more than he hates Bon Jovi and that's A LOT!  And yet, he never once let that show to the girls.  O and A had the time of their lives!  A would want to hold hands and dance with her sister and daddy, but then she'd drop their hands and want to dance on her own.  It was too cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to capture a few moments on camera and then Daddy and I danced for awhile. Soon it turned into complete silliness and the girls started wrestling with me.  You'll notice in one picture I had O lifted in the air and then A noticed that I was laying on my back and she climbed on top of my face!!!  She thought it was so funny!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that O will remember this night and remember how much her Daddy loves her.  I know I will.  I love J and I know that our girls do too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIxAwVxiI/AAAAAAAAAFc/-FgoBWT1V0c/s1600-h/DSC_0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIxAwVxiI/AAAAAAAAAFc/-FgoBWT1V0c/s320/DSC_0114.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303912993012434466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIw_JLe4I/AAAAAAAAAFU/lHCxr17rubw/s1600-h/DSC_0109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIw_JLe4I/AAAAAAAAAFU/lHCxr17rubw/s320/DSC_0109.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303912992579746690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIwsmGk0I/AAAAAAAAAFM/1MLKi0KxsbU/s1600-h/DSC_0106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIwsmGk0I/AAAAAAAAAFM/1MLKi0KxsbU/s320/DSC_0106.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303912987600786242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIwVVZbBI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Kk2IM7Sefnw/s1600-h/DSC_0101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIwVVZbBI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Kk2IM7Sefnw/s320/DSC_0101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303912981356702738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIwP7fdHI/AAAAAAAAAE8/_X61QZeCRHg/s1600-h/DSC_0099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtIwP7fdHI/AAAAAAAAAE8/_X61QZeCRHg/s320/DSC_0099.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303912979905868914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-8555637599012634692?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/8555637599012634692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-love-this-guyand-our-girls-do-too.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/8555637599012634692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/8555637599012634692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-love-this-guyand-our-girls-do-too.html' title='I Love This Guy....And Our Girls Do Too!!!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SZtK3o1WrkI/AAAAAAAAAF8/T6y4ssk663Y/s72-c/CSC_0108.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-755219400553221892</id><published>2009-02-09T10:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T11:06:47.354-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Choose To Have A GREAT Marriage!....(Also titled: That Was Then This Is Now!)</title><content type='html'>This past week has been a rough marriage week.  We've been bickering about every little thing, there have been a lot of outside stresses that we haven't handled as well as we could have, we haven't spent much time alone, etc.  What occurred to me in a brief moment of clarity this week was that the difference between me now and me a couple of years ago is that I care about our marriage now.  I know that sounds harsh, but a couple of years ago, I majorly took my marriage for granted.  I subconciously thought that no matter how I treated my husband, he wouldn't ever leave me.  I have since realized the ignorance of my subconcious mind!  A person can only tolerate so much, and about a year ago, we both reached our limit.  We have worked so hard on our marriage this past year.  We have talked more, prayed more, shared more, laughed more, and cried more than we ever have together!  We have changed more as individuals and as a couple than we ever have!&lt;br /&gt;So, yesterday as I was driving into church, I put my ipod on the itrip and was flipping through songs.  The song The Blessing by John Waller came on.  The words to the song stopped me in my tracks.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"This day You set life, &lt;br /&gt;You set death right before us.&lt;br /&gt;This day.&lt;br /&gt;Every blessing and curse is a choice now,&lt;br /&gt;And we will choose to be a blessing for life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden this light bulb went on.  Not that I haven't heard stuff like this before, but in an instant it struck me.  I can choose to do and say things that destroy my marriage or I can choose to say and do things that build up my marriage and make it GREAT.  This past week, I have been doing and saying things that have been destructive to my marriage.  I was CHOOSING to be that way!  Maybe not consciously, but I was still doing it nevertheless.  When I got to church I told my husband J that I was going to choose to do and say things to make our marriage GREAT.  I wasn't going to be negative about things that have come up this past week.  I was going to do what I could to live in peace with him this week and make our lives happier!  I CHOOSE TO HAVE A GREAT MARRIAGE!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4tvDQpaJBuo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4tvDQpaJBuo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-755219400553221892?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/755219400553221892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/755219400553221892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/755219400553221892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html' title='I Choose To Have A GREAT Marriage!....(Also titled: That Was Then This Is Now!)'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-5465458919103981761</id><published>2009-02-03T09:55:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T10:36:23.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Believe...</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking a lot lately about what I believe, how I live and what I know to be true.  So, for the curious... I believe in absolute truth.  I believe that everything in the Bible is absolute truth.  I believe that Jesus was and is real, that He loves me, and that He died for me. I believe that because I have given my life to Him I will live with Him in Heaven someday.  I am a Christian.  I am a fully devoted follower of Christ.  I believe that Jesus is the only way to God who is the only way to Heaven.  I believe in the sanctity of human life.  I believe that God intended a man to be with a woman and a woman to be with a man.  I believe that there are very few gray areas as far as God is concerned, period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have several people in my life whom I love dearly, but who have let the world begin to dictate what they believe.  They claim to know and love God, but there are things that they believe that do not line up with what God says.  I've always been the silent type when it comes to things of that nature.  I've always kinda lived under the motto of "It's our job to catch the fish.  It's Jesus' job to clean them."  If we love Jesus, we are called to lead others to love Jesus.  We are not called to scrutinize everything they do, say or believe.  That's for God to sort out.  However, Miss Silent here is having a harder and harder time staying quiet....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that when it comes right down to it, God is going to look at us in terms of if we believed in Him and gave our life to Him, if we believed that the Bible was absolutely true and lived by its teachings, and what we did with the life that was given to us by Him.  I think there are things that we argue about as Christians that will not matter in the grand scheme of things.  And yet, I also think there are things that are a big deal to God, but are taken lightly by Christian people. There are things that God has said in His word that are true, absolutely true, that matter a lot more to God than I think people want to think they do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this is breaking through my silence....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as always, there's a song....I love music.  I think God uses music to speak to me often.  The song that has become my anthem in my life today is by Natalie Grant called I Will Not Be Moved.  In light of everything I've shared above, this song reminds me that what I believe about Jesus, truth, heaven, and my faith, will not be moved.  I have, and will continue to have, difficult things to go through in my life, but they do not weaken my faith.  I have the God of the universe on my side cheering for me, protecting me, encouraging me.  What else do I need?  I will not be moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vyEMJBhCtU8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vyEMJBhCtU8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-5465458919103981761?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/5465458919103981761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-believe.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/5465458919103981761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/5465458919103981761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-believe.html' title='I Believe...'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-5895683215659311339</id><published>2009-01-20T16:19:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T17:09:19.790-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/n-8SYA6rfbs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/n-8SYA6rfbs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was January 24, 2008.  It was a cold Sunday afternoon.  I remember where we were.  I remember what I was wearing.  I remember the look on his face.  I remember walking out of the house and seeing the looks on my girls' faces.  Would this be the last time they would see their Mommy and Daddy together??  It was the day I thought our marriage was over.  It was the most gutwrenchingly worst day of my life.  And yet, however, it was also the most lifechanging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember driving around on the snow covered country roads, crying out to God and asking "What do I do?  I don't know what to do now!"  And as clearly as if He was sitting right there in the empty passenger's seat next to me, I heard God say, "Love him like I love you."  But how can I do that??  There's been so much hurt.  So much said and so much done.  How do I do that??  What does that look like?  Love, forgive, show mercy, give grace....that's how God loves us.  He sees us at our worst and loves us still.  That's what I had to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;It wasn't easy in the beginning.  In fact, it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.  It's hard to break old negative habits.  It's hard to forgive deep emotional hurts.  It's hard to work on your marriage when even some of your closest family and friends are telling you that it's over.  And yet, day by day, we loved each other more and more like how God loves us.  And day by day, it got easier and easier.  We've done more talking in the past year than we've done in the 14 years we've been together.  We are open and honest about everything now...how we're feeling, what we're thinking, what our plans are, what are hopes are, what we love about each other and what we don't like so much.  I'm not going to lie and say that everything is perfect now.  It's not.  We've learned that to have a great marriage, which is what we want, it takes a lot of work.  It takes love, mercy, forgiveness, grace, respect, humility, compassion, humor and passion for each other.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have gone through a lot this past year.  God has transformed our marriage from the worst to the best it has ever been.  I love my husband more today than I ever have.  I see him now for who is he really is.  He is a follower of Christ. He is a loving father.  He is a giving son.  He is a caring grandson.  He is a talented musician.  He is a genius mechanic.  He is a terrific friend.  He is smart. He is funny.  He is giving.  He is compassionate to those in need.  He is goofy.  He is humble.  He is the man that I have been with now for nearly 14 years, and the man I want to be with until I am old and gray.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This January 24, 2009 we can say without a shadow of a doubt that God has saved us from divorce.  He has transformed us and transformed our marriage and our family.  We love being together now.  We love spend time together as a family now. We miss each other when we are apart.  We knew that as we were walking through this dark time in our lives that God would use us to save other marriages and to change people's lives.  Our hope is that we can share our story so that other people's marriages can be saved.  Nothing is impossible to God!!  He is mighty to save!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sR8rlTIU8_Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sR8rlTIU8_Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Saturday is January 24.  We are taking the kids and going away for the day.  We don't want to sit at home and dwell on what happened on that day last year.  We instead want to make new memories.  We are taking the kids to the Indianapolis Children's Museum for the day.  We will have so many new happy memories to remember!  It is a new January 24!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXZZgNQ7OII/AAAAAAAAACk/CbeyMjeHByQ/s1600-h/DSC_0401.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXZZgNQ7OII/AAAAAAAAACk/CbeyMjeHByQ/s320/DSC_0401.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293516821871933570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-5895683215659311339?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/5895683215659311339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-memories.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/5895683215659311339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/5895683215659311339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-memories.html' title='New Memories'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXZZgNQ7OII/AAAAAAAAACk/CbeyMjeHByQ/s72-c/DSC_0401.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-848671568114300345</id><published>2009-01-17T15:58:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T18:30:24.334-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Perfect!</title><content type='html'>I'm not perfect, and I've never even come close!  I have more than my fair share of flaws.  I don't always make the best choices. I sin.  I do and say things that break the heart of Jesus Christ.  But you wanna know what I find SO incredibly, indescribably wonderful about all of this???  Jesus Christ loves me, even though I am not perfect; even though I have flaws; even though I sin; even though I do and say things that break His heart.  HE LOVES ME!  He knows who I am and what I've done, and He loves me!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXJXXN4FHfI/AAAAAAAAACU/LmDeYdd8y4E/s1600-h/cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 89px; height: 145px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXJXXN4FHfI/AAAAAAAAACU/LmDeYdd8y4E/s320/cross.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292388568487239154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I've never understood is when people are told about the love of Jesus and how much He wants us to love Him and give our lives to Him, a lot of people will say "I'm not a good enough person." or "I've done too many bad things."  But that's the whole point of the gospel!!!  Jesus looks beyond all of that!  He doesn't see us as we see ourselves.  He looks on us with an incredible love that we cannot even imagine the depth of!  He knows that we make mistakes.  He knows that we have flaws and weaknesses.  He knows that we will do things to break his heart.  He knows everything about us.  He knows us better than we know ourselves!  AND HE STILL LOVES US and wants us to be His children and follow Him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXJZR_Q_sDI/AAAAAAAAACc/pdcrgwKlDnw/s1600-h/cross2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 116px; height: 135px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXJZR_Q_sDI/AAAAAAAAACc/pdcrgwKlDnw/s320/cross2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292390677689118770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've really been struck by the significance of Jesus Christ's love for me.  So I know that Jesus loves me (the Bible tells me so) and I know that I am supposed to live my the way Jesus would want me to live it.  So, shouldn't I show Jesus' love to others?  Not just people in my home, or people I love in my life, but everyone?  Why don't I???  Why do I judge people negatively in the instant that I see them, instead of trying to look at them as Jesus looks at them?  This is one area that I am REALLY working through right now.  I want to see people and love them the way Jesus loves them.  I want to see someone in need and help them in any way that I can.  I am a very blessed woman.  God has given me so much, and lately I have really felt this desire to give to people in radical ways.  I'm not going to list what I've been doing, because I want that to remain between me and God.  As I've started giving more, I just felt like there was something missing.  And lately, as I've thought about it, I think what's been missing is the love of Jesus.  I can give and give and give, physical things; but if I am still looking on strangers with judging eyes and scoffing thoughts, and not in love, then what good is my giving??  I want to see people through the eyes of Jesus; to see people the way Jesus sees them.  I want everyone to know that there is NOTHING that you have done or said or thought about that Jesus doesn't already know about....AND HE STILL LOVES YOU!!!  He still wants you to love Him and give your life to Him, so that He can greet you in Heaven some day!  No matter what you've done, no matter how many bad choices you've made.  No one is perfect.  Not even me.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romans 3:23 For ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romans 5:8  But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still   sinners, Christ died for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romans 8:39 Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 John 4:7  Let us love one another, for love comes from God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 John 5:2 This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out his commands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a video link to a song that I think embodies my feelings about seeing people through the eyes of Jesus.  It is called Give Me Your Eyes by Brandon Heath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hGr8as7pPBE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hGr8as7pPBE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is also one of my favorites.  It's called The Love of God by Mercy Me.  It is a beautiful picture of God's love for us. Brings me to tears every time....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Fla6EO07I3E&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Fla6EO07I3E&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width=425 height=344&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-848671568114300345?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/848671568114300345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-not-perfect.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/848671568114300345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/848671568114300345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-not-perfect.html' title='I&apos;m Not Perfect!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SXJXXN4FHfI/AAAAAAAAACU/LmDeYdd8y4E/s72-c/cross.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-4703166442501662982</id><published>2009-01-08T13:59:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T14:34:09.472-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Girls!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWZdbiwaBkI/AAAAAAAAACM/aSzxogzadXc/s1600-h/DSC_0362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWZdbiwaBkI/AAAAAAAAACM/aSzxogzadXc/s320/DSC_0362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289017540160915010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWZdanCLoaI/AAAAAAAAACE/zHnUNdbNFYA/s1600-h/DSC_0356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWZdanCLoaI/AAAAAAAAACE/zHnUNdbNFYA/s320/DSC_0356.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289017524129341858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love my husband J.  He has a great sense of humor...most of the time.  He has always been silly, goofy, whatever you want to call it, in order to get laughs.  Sometimes his sense of humor is a little too much for me.  However, in the past few months especially, I have really been enjoying his sense of humor.  He has this incredible ability to make people laugh, no matter what the circumstances.   We have been laughing a lot together in the past few months especially. It has been very healing to our souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWZdaODdXeI/AAAAAAAAAB8/XbLjsGx-ksI/s1600-h/josheyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWZdaODdXeI/AAAAAAAAAB8/XbLjsGx-ksI/s320/josheyes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289017517423812066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our girls seem to have inherited their&lt;br /&gt;Daddy's sense of humor.  O especially! &lt;br /&gt;Whenever she's in a&lt;br /&gt;new or uncomfortable situation,&lt;br /&gt;she acts like a boob to get people to&lt;br /&gt;laugh at her instead of possibly&lt;br /&gt;making fun of her.  She just finished&lt;br /&gt;a 14 week gymnastics class.  It&lt;br /&gt; pained me to go and watch her&lt;br /&gt; because she acted SO much like&lt;br /&gt;her Daddy!!  If they were&lt;br /&gt;learning a new skill, which was pretty&lt;br /&gt;much every week, she would roll&lt;br /&gt;around on the mat, fall down, do the&lt;br /&gt;opposite of what they were supposed&lt;br /&gt;to do, etc.   She would laugh like a fool,&lt;br /&gt;which would in turn make everyone&lt;br /&gt;else laugh.  JUST LIKE HER DADDY!&lt;br /&gt;Josh ended up taking her most of the&lt;br /&gt;time!!&lt;br /&gt;So today we were playing a speech game as&lt;br /&gt;part of our homeschool ritual called Chipper&lt;br /&gt;Chat.  In the game, I read a clue to O and she has tell me what the answer is and say it correctly and then she can put one of these transparent magnetic ringed chips on her gameboard.  When she is filled up the board, she can use the magnetic wand to pick up all of the chips.  SO, we are about finished with the game and she starts putting the chips on her eyes and acting silly.  It reminded me so much of J I had to take a picture!  Then A started doing it too, but she kept batting her eyelashes and they would fall off.  She could only manage to keep one on at at time, but she thought it was hilarious!!  As I was reviewing the pictures on my camera it reminded me of a picture I had in my scrapbook of J when we were dating.  All three pictures are posted above.  See any similarities??  If there was ever any question why my girls are so silly-----I have proof now!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3 style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Proverbs 17:22 (Amplified Bible)&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-AMP-16896" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A happy heart is good medicine and a cheerful mind works healing, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-4703166442501662982?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/4703166442501662982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/daddys-girls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/4703166442501662982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/4703166442501662982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/daddys-girls.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Girls!!!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWZdbiwaBkI/AAAAAAAAACM/aSzxogzadXc/s72-c/DSC_0362.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-7902779300176787715</id><published>2009-01-08T10:18:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T10:23:00.542-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Has Anyone Seen This Bed????</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWYnYL9_-2I/AAAAAAAAABc/DM8GF8HjaGQ/s1600-h/bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWYnYL9_-2I/AAAAAAAAABc/DM8GF8HjaGQ/s400/bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288958108876405602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a picture of my oldest daughter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;O's&lt;/span&gt; bed.  In the next few months, we are going to be moving my youngest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;daughter&lt;/span&gt; A into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;O's&lt;/span&gt; room.  I am neurotic when it comes to things matching, so I REALLY want to find a bed that matches &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;O's&lt;/span&gt;.  It doesn't have to be exact, but something close would be FABULOUS!  This bed was given to us out of Josh's great aunt's estate.  It is a beautiful bed.  I've looked on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ebay&lt;/span&gt; and different places online, but can't find anything.  So, I thought I'd post it up here and see if any of you could help me locate a bed like this.  I know I have lots of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;antiquers&lt;/span&gt;" out there!  I'd like to find bedding that matches too, but I can always buy two matching quilts when the time comes if I can't find it.  Thank you for helping maintain my neurosis!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-7902779300176787715?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/7902779300176787715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/has-anyone-seen-this-bed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/7902779300176787715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/7902779300176787715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/has-anyone-seen-this-bed.html' title='Has Anyone Seen This Bed????'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWYnYL9_-2I/AAAAAAAAABc/DM8GF8HjaGQ/s72-c/bed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-3171985937555112216</id><published>2009-01-06T22:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T22:22:28.811-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud Mama Moment</title><content type='html'>Homeschooling has been extremely challenging.  Our time often ends in both of us mad at each other.  It's been quite the struggle.  Most days actually are fine, but BOY are some days tough.  I really want my kids growing up with a Christian education and we can't afford a private school, so this seemed like the best option.  For those of you that don't know, I was a teacher for five years before I had our oldest daughter O.  So, it's not like I'm clueless when it comes to teaching.  I know what I'm doing....or at least I thought I did.  What amazes me is that I taught a room full of kids for years and nothing intimidated me.  Now teaching ONE child flusters me more than I think it should.  It's a very interesting dynamic I guess.  &lt;br /&gt;O is 5 and would be in kindergarten in a traditional school, but in preparing to start homeschool and looking at curriculum it became clear that kindergarten work was going to be way to easy for O.  And O bored is a REALLY dangerous thing!  So, I decided to do 1st grade work with her.  She's very smart, like her Daddy, and picks things up really quickly.  She is reading like a fiend now and loves science.  She will tell you that math is her favorite subject, but honestly she kinda struggles with it.  Anyway, there are days that I feel like "Is she learning ANYTHING?"  And then we have moments like we did today where she did AWESOME at school and then when it came time to say the books of the Bible that she's been practicing, she busted them all out!  It really makes me stop and look back at all we have gone through with her hearing disability and that she didn't even talk until she was 2!!  That amazes me as I watch her start developing into a little lady, learning and growing every day.  My baby has become a girl....&lt;br /&gt;We started with the Old Testament and she's only up to Song of Songs, but for a five year old, I think she's doing pretty darn good!  I took a video tonight of her saying the books.  If she seems a little flustered, it's because A would not leave her alone!!  So, she's trying to say them while Addison climbs on her, etc.  She gets flustered in the beginning and starts with Judges, but then corrects herself and takes off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nr1HHW2U0io&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nr1HHW2U0io&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-3171985937555112216?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/3171985937555112216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/proud-mama-momment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/3171985937555112216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/3171985937555112216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/proud-mama-momment.html' title='Proud Mama Moment'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-6045552813114311775</id><published>2009-01-06T20:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T22:07:55.918-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking On Sunshine</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1L1bo5ynXhw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1L1bo5ynXhw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little girl A was rockin' out to Walking On Sunshine (one of my faves) on my laptop tonight.  She LOVES to dance!  She listened to this song and danced like this probably 5 times through!  When you see her pointing at the screen it's because someone in the video is wearing socks and she keeps pointing them out saying "socks". A makes me smile so much!  She's just so stinkin' cute!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, like most Tuesday nights, I was alone with the girls because J has worship practice at church.  It's usually a pretty stressful night because I've been with the girls all day and there's no relief in sight.  But tonight after we finished supper I told O that I needed to do dishes.  She said "No you don't.  You need to dance!"  I know that I am not a good dancer.  I accept that.  But my girls don't care and they LOVE to dance with me! We often find ourselves dancing like crazy fools in the kitchen with the music blaring.  It doesn't even matter what the music is.  Both of my girls love music and LOVE to dance!  I had a huge load of dishes to wash, but I decided to leave it for awhile and dance with my girls.  I'm really trying to do this more.  Not dancing necessarily, but leaving housework aside for awhile and having fun with my kids.  It's hard for me.  I like to have the house clean, laundry done, dishes done.  But how many more years will it be that my girls will want to dance crazy with me in the kitchen?  I had some really cute video on the camera and then the camera somehow deleted them! &lt;br /&gt;So, we went into the livingroom and cranked up the stereo and danced some more!  We had so much fun just dancing like fools and laughing.  We ended up dancing all the way up to bedtime!!  Baby Girl A was so tired by the time we were done!  Here's a video of both of them dancing and you can see at the end A is about falling over she's so tired!  We had so much fun and after they went to bed, I got the dishes done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/odf-nsVmt9Y&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/odf-nsVmt9Y&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-6045552813114311775?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/6045552813114311775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/walking-on-sunshine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/6045552813114311775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/6045552813114311775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/walking-on-sunshine.html' title='Walking On Sunshine'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-264051817796692218</id><published>2009-01-06T13:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T14:46:18.629-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Daddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWO1Y2YZulI/AAAAAAAAABQ/39lQx-G3OJw/s1600-h/daddy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWO1Y2YZulI/AAAAAAAAABQ/39lQx-G3OJw/s320/daddy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288269825982446162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today my Daddy has been on my heart, so I thought I'd write about him.  He is one of the strongest men I know, and not just his physical strength.  I have always looked up to my Dad.  He has always been the rock of our family.  He is the kind of dad that I always hoped I would have for my kids.  He is a man of God.  He loves his family more than anything.  He'll do anything for his family, even if it means not getting to do the things that he wants to do....like rest!  He was firm with me as I was growing up, but I always knew that he loved me.  He was always involved in my life in every way he could, coaching sports, teaching me how to fix things, and teaching me to love God.  He has always been my protector as well.  He wasn't about to let anything happen to his little girl....whether it was keeping my brothers from hurting me or tracking me down on a dark night to drag me out of a place I had no business being with people I had no business being with.  My Daddy loves me!  It wasn't really until I got older, and especially after I had kids, that I realized just how GREAT of a man my Dad is.  He is a wonderful Grandpa to my children!!!  They both LOVE their Papa!!!  Now that I'm a wife myself, I see what a terrific husband he is to my Mom!   I never appreciated any of that growing up.  However, there is one thing that I have been thinking about a lot lately that has really made me think about who my Dad is.  He is an extremely hard worker.  He has worked as a Maintenance Mechanic at the same place for over 35 years.  When he does something, he does it with everything he has.  That's why it has been breaking my heart lately to see him go through the changes that are occurring at his work.  He found out about a month ago that his company has been bought out and will be shutting down in the next few months.  He has given his life to this place, and now they are kicking him out.  He was over yesterday and I helped him get a resume typed up and filled out an online application service.  This is all so foreign to him.  He has never had another job except for working at a gas station in high school!!  Just helping him yesterday made me feel for him.  He has a very physically taxing job and has worked many late nights, through the nights, and early mornings.  He is getting older, and I think he shouldn't have to work like that any more.  It just breaks my heart to hear him talk about how there are no job openings available and that he thinks that if he finds a job he's going to have to back to working nights.  I just hate that.  I want him to have a job where is appreciated and where he doesn't have to work crazy hours like that.  I want him to be able to spend time with my Mom when he wants and do the things that they like to do together.  I'm frustrated for him.&lt;br /&gt;However, through all of this uncertainty he remains very firm on one thing "God will provide."  He has a sense of peace because he knows that there is a God who loves him and promises to take care of him.   Of course, there's always a sense of unrest in his situation as he looks forward to the future not knowing where God will have him work next, but he trusts in God to see him through.  I love that about him.  Who I am today has a lot to do with who has loved me along the way.  My Daddy has always loved me, with a strong, protective, yet gentle kind of love.  He has strengthened me and encouraged me in more ways than I could ever write about.  The song we danced to at my wedding was "Because You Loved Me."  So, I'll close my post with a video for that song.  I love you Daddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9CkKuA86Mis&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9CkKuA86Mis&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-264051817796692218?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/264051817796692218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-daddy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/264051817796692218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/264051817796692218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-daddy.html' title='My Daddy'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWO1Y2YZulI/AAAAAAAAABQ/39lQx-G3OJw/s72-c/daddy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-523126095551593079</id><published>2009-01-06T09:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T13:35:22.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why "mrs-doof"?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxwuUBocI/AAAAAAAAABI/nBUu28ILZsY/s1600-h/kiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxwuUBocI/AAAAAAAAABI/nBUu28ILZsY/s320/kiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288265838086955458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxwFxa9gI/AAAAAAAAABA/V6gPKNOvSJE/s1600-h/dating2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxwFxa9gI/AAAAAAAAABA/V6gPKNOvSJE/s320/dating2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288265827204396546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxrwbqAiI/AAAAAAAAAA4/rVPXeNirO0I/s1600-h/bday1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxrwbqAiI/AAAAAAAAAA4/rVPXeNirO0I/s320/bday1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288265752756486690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxrKBG8wI/AAAAAAAAAAw/oXOXvLkutmc/s1600-h/dating.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxrKBG8wI/AAAAAAAAAAw/oXOXvLkutmc/s320/dating.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288265742444589826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you might be wondering "Why the "mrs-doof" in the website?  Well, it's exactly what it looks like Mrs. Doof.  When hubby J and I met, we were freshmen in college.  We had a political science class together and one day while waiting outside the classroom for the other class to get over, he struck up a conversation with me.  Later that week, I went to the mall with my parents very begrudgingly to get something for my younger brother at a sporting goods store.  I was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt with my hair pulled back and my glasses on.  I was a thing of beauty!  So, I was mortified to hear a familiar voice say my name in the store.  As I turned around, I realized it was J!!  We talked for awhile, then he gave my parents a discount on their purchase and we left.  As we were leaving, my mom said "he had love-dust."  I told her she was crazy and she said "He loves you.  I can see it in his eyes."  And wouldn't you know it, a couple days later he asked me out on our first date and almost 14 years later we are still together!!  Anyway, at this sporting goods store J was kinda the resident clown.  I know you that know J know that is hard to believe, but it's true!!  HA!  Anyway, a manager there used to refer to him as a "doof".  So whenever I would call or come in the store, the manager would jokingly call me "Mrs. Doof".  It has always stuck in my mind for some reason.  So, when thinking of a clever title for the blog site, that popped into my head.  What is really funny to me is, my girls have their Daddy's great sense of humor, especially my oldest O.  I often find myself calling her a "doof".  I don't mean it in a bad way at all!  In fact, I look on that word fondly.  It's the thing that drew me to J when we first met and one of the things I love the most about him still today.  I'm proud to be known as "Mrs. Doof", even after all of these years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-523126095551593079?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/523126095551593079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-mrs-doof.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/523126095551593079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/523126095551593079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-mrs-doof.html' title='Why &quot;mrs-doof&quot;?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWOxwuUBocI/AAAAAAAAABI/nBUu28ILZsY/s72-c/kiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-7582126795100551849</id><published>2009-01-05T22:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T22:19:46.528-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Consequences and the New Me!</title><content type='html'>I tend to be kinda a softy when it comes to my girls.  I mean, I don't mean to be, but I sometimes finding myself saying "This is the last time Mommy's going to warn you!" a few too many times.  So, for the new year I am going to try and not do this any more.  And let me tell you, after ONE day of my new me, we had a GREAT day!  My biggest daily struggle with my oldest daughter O is homeschooling.  She is a lot like her mama and is very stubborn....and whiny.  Today I decided that we are going to start a chart and it consists of her jobs around the house and her schoolwork.  There is a box for each thing.  She gets a sticker if the job is done without excessive whining and in a timely manner.  If all boxes are not filled with stickers, she gets no Wii or movies the rest of the day.  She seemed on board with the whole concept as I was explaining it to her, and suddenly as school was wrapping up, she realized that there were still two boxes left on the chart that she had not filled, making her bed and picking up her room.  She begged and begged to watch a movie this afternoon, but I DID NOT LET HER!  I was so proud of myself.  My wonderful Daddy came down for a visit and O wanted to show him our new Wii and play with him.  I DID NOT LET HER!  She finally realized that I was not going to give in and she went upstairs and made her bed.  I followed her upstairs shortly after she went up there to check her progress.  She was playing dolls on the floor.....but that is not important right now.   I informed her that we needed to leave soon and if she didn't get her room picked up and her bed made than she would not be able to play Wii with Papa.  She made her bed and then I showed her what I was expecting in terms of picking up her room, and she helped.  She ran downstairs all excited to play Wii with Papa.  Later tonight the consequences issue raised its ugly head again.  O LOVES it when I read books from the Junie B. Jones series before she goes to bed.  Frankly, I do too.  It's written for 5-7 year old girls and the writing cracks me up every time.  My hubby hates it, but that's another blog post.... Anyway, tonight O messed around getting ready for bed for well over 30 minutes while I sat on her bed telling her that if she didn't get ready soon, we'd not be reading Junie B.  Now usually, I cave on this threat because I love reading to her.  HOWEVER, tonight I did not give in.  She finally got her pjs on and ready for bed and I told her that because of that we would not be reading Junie B.  She was very sad.  I think she was expecting me to cave like I always do.  But I didn't!!  I think maybe tomorrow she might ask to make a trade back to the "old softy Mommy"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-7582126795100551849?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/7582126795100551849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/consequencesnecessary-evil.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/7582126795100551849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/7582126795100551849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/consequencesnecessary-evil.html' title='Consequences and the New Me!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5681800945366918160.post-9104425433759542093</id><published>2009-01-05T21:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T21:17:35.499-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's going to read this?</title><content type='html'>So, my first blog post.  Several friends had suggested that I start blogging, so here ya go!  I probably won't keep up with it well, as I'm a busy mom of two, who homeschools on top of everything else.  And it leads me to wonder who will read this, but oh well!&lt;br /&gt;I don't find my life fascinating, or worth sharing the daily details of, but if people want to know what's going on in my life, they'll now be able to find it here!&lt;br /&gt;My life is focused on a few main things, with lots of other smaller things filling in the gaps.  My focuses are: my relationship with Jesus, my marriage, my children, and my family.   The smaller things consist of things like: washing dishes, doing laundry, vacuuming rugs, sweeping the floors, cleaning the bathroom mirror, checking emails, paying bills, playing around on Facebook, getting groceries, and currently--playing Wii with my husband.  I'm sure there is more, but I think you get the idea! &lt;br /&gt;So, if you are looking to find out what goes on in my life on a daily....or maybe weekly basis, this is it!  Not too thrilling, huh?  Hope you enjoy....if you're reading....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5681800945366918160-9104425433759542093?l=mrs-doof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/feeds/9104425433759542093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/whos-going-to-read-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/9104425433759542093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5681800945366918160/posts/default/9104425433759542093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrs-doof.blogspot.com/2009/01/whos-going-to-read-this.html' title='Who&apos;s going to read this?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12774424071427440480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zn25Ipry3vo/SWLYgdopLfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K0sNYPQw5IA/S220/DSC_0241.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
