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We don’t always see eye to eye.

Something you don’t want to hear while eating lunch with your two year old:

I tan’t bweathe thwu my nose betuz I put a tarrot up there.

A cooked carrot cube up the nostril. Nice. I looked with a flashlight, and thought I could see it. I tried for a short second to get it with tweezers and then I decided I could just be making things worse.

I called the doctor’s office, but they were closed for lunch. The answering service wasn’t supposed to give out advice. While I was on the phone with her, I had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Aviana told me, “Don’t laugh, Mama! Dis is serious!”

I decided to page our doctor, who never did call back. I spoke to my aunt, who’s a nurse. She said we’d shouldWhen Kevin got in for lunch I explained what had happened, and he didn’t seem to be at all concerned. She was breathing fine and acting normally.

I was worried she would end up with a carrot rotting in her sinus cavity.

He scoffed at me, and said I was just bored and looking for some excitement.

After the doctors got back from lunch, Kevin spoke with the nurse who said they couldn’t get her in today anyway. We’d have to take her to a walk-in clinic. Kevin talked me out of going, partly because we don’t have insurance, partly because she didn’t seem to be bothered by it, partly because, since I didn’t see her do it (and um, do you really think a carrot would even be in her nose if I had seen her do it?), he didn’t believe there was really a carrot in her nose.

He said if the carrot starts rotting in her head in a week, I can say “I told you so.”

Small consolation.

I do think the carrot affected her brain, because that child could not make a wise choice all the rest of the day to save her life.

This morning at breakfast, Aviana told me, “Brielle got that carrot out of her nose. She just stuck her finger up dere, and it tame wight out.”

Kevin had put it on the counter for me to see. Thoughtful of him.

Aviana told me, “Better put that tarrot in the twash betuz it isn’t dood to eat any wonger.”

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Stay-at-Home Mom Style outfit for the week jeans leggings cheap chic fashion frugal style mom on the go

Fiction v. Reality

I think I’ve read too many end of the world/conspiracy novels. I know God did not give us a spirit of fear, but I am a little more freaked out by this swine flu “not pandemic” than I ought to be.

I’m not afraid for my family, but more in a what does this mean in the larger scheme of things type of way. I checked the CDC website and as of this morning, there have only been 64 cases in the U.S. and one death. But that’s just in the U.S. There have been 20 confirmed deaths in Mexico, and over 60 more unconfirmed deaths.

I’ve read criticisms of how the Mexican government is handling this situation; as in the families of the confirmed dead don’t even have medicine yet; the doctors still don’t know how it’s being spread.

Could this have been genetically engineered? Could there be a governmental conspiracy to control population?

The one U.S. death was that of a 23 month old toddler.I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child; the torture of watching your child die of something like the flu, that shouldn’t even be fatal. I can’t imagine living a hundred years ago during the Spanish flu outbreak, and seeing your baby get so sick and not be able to do anything about it. We were close enough to death as I ever want to get when Aviana had appendicitis.

I don’t know what I really want to say with this post, other than God has it under control, just like everything.

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Stay-at-Home Mom Style outfit for the week jeans leggings cheap chic fashion frugal style mom on the go

Ode to my clothesline

Oh really.

My clothesline is a testament of love. Really.

First, it’s a testament of Kevin’s love for me. I mentioned that I wanted a clothesline when we first moved over to the farm. He immediately went to work scouring the ads in obscure farm community papers for a good (cheap) set. We bought some from an old lady’s son, after we walked 3/4 of a mile into her field to find the cross bars in a pile of refuse. Kevin lovingly dug deep holes and put cement in them and created my wonderful line.

And also, he’s been known to go out in the dark to retrieve clothes I have forgotten on the line.

Second, it’s a testament of my love for my family. I love to hang the clothes out there, to let them dry in the breeze. I love how they still smell like God when I take them out of the basket and finally get the clothes put away five days later. I love to be out in the fresh air, having some peace and feeling warmly domestic.

And finally, it’s a testament of God’s love for me. I truly connect best with my God when I’m out in His creation. Invariably, He reminds me of Him while I’m doing my favorite little chore. I’ve been known to belt out some How Great Thou Art, or simply pray, or to talk over whatever it is I’ve been learning in my quiet time. Sometimes I even look like I’m dancing.

I am truly truly thankful for this love line.

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So I took some silly pictures of Cadrian for this post and for my Facebook, and of course to embarrass him at his wedding.

Tonight I was going through my pictures and tagging them, editing, deleting, organizing…

Just look what I never noticed until just now. Oh yeah. Look closely.

If it helps, you can click on the picture and make it bigger…

That, my friends, is the story of my life. OR so it seems some days.

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Easters Past

Easter 1976

Easter 1984

Easter 1989

My mom used to sew a lot of our clothes.

1968This really isn’t Easter, but it’s the closest I could find. How cute are my hubby’s fat little thighs?
1969 This is a slide! Remember those?


I like how Aunt Connie could care less about the picture, and just wants to see what’s in the basket! 🙂

2006 at Aunt Connie’s church in St. Louis

Easter 2007

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Due to serious technical difficulties, this is the only picture I have of my little man’s first Easter. There might be some on my MIL’s camera; I’ll have to see. How disappointed am I?!
And here are my sweet girls.

We got to church super early because I was on nursery duty, so I didn’t actually get to attend services. Then we went over to my in-laws for Easter day. They had planned a 1 o’clock dinner, so the girls couldn’t have quiet time. It was all good until we got home again, then it was basically one non-stop tear fest, until we got them in bed. At 6:30. They were both asleep by 7, thank God.

Kevin and I watched Harper’s Island last night on the ‘net…I think I might be addicted already. And then I got sick. I took two naps today and even the soles of my feet ache. Ugh.

On the bright side, Aviana told me she loves me more than she loves the zoo.

Happy Monday.

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