<?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-21159678</id><updated>2011-09-10T04:02:53.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's on Stephanie's mind?</title><subtitle type='html'>Sometimes God tries to teach me something in the small moments in life. Then, this other life creeps in and nothing is retained. It is time for me to merge the two "lives" and learn. Time to start remembering who God is.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>68</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-4778230487895661142</id><published>2010-12-13T10:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T10:31:34.888-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the more we get together...the happier we'll be</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/TQZlm2shCmI/AAAAAAAABdM/0Tf3xb6hmc0/s1600/DSCN1220.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/TQZlm2shCmI/AAAAAAAABdM/0Tf3xb6hmc0/s400/DSCN1220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550235308972378722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whew! what an amazing weekend of all things california! as i sit here and recap the great time we all had this weekend, i think of how fast times like these are going. i mean two of our sons are now in their teens and the other two are nipping at their heels. this is going fast. matt and i have purposed not only to nurture our marriage relationship but to nurture our parental relationship, quick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as you may or may not know from other forms of media {boy are we connected or what?!} my sweet love took me away for a night of camping on friday. it was fantastic!! as much as i enjoy being right on the 101...sarcasm...it was the sweetest sound to hear nothing at all. well, really we were able to hear many things...crickets, birds, rustling in the darkness, owls{yes, i know they are birds, but such a sound isn't heard from just any bird}...we were also able to just sit and observe the stars. so so dark up there in the mountains! and that was just the evening. in the morning we took time to really enjoy each other's company our morning coffee, our bible study and the scenes around us...in the immediate back of our site was a creek running through...another sound we were so glad to be listening to. this creation that we are living in, all around us, is so magical! God meant for us to take it in and sometimes we go months with out even noticing it! im thankful that my husband and i were able to retreat to the mountains to reconnect with God, each other and His creation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;funny, isn't it...matt and i "see" each other everyday! but it was different to go away from normalcy and look at each other. be with each other. same goes for our sons. we are here, home together almost every day. but not nearly enough do we stop and just be with one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunday was great!  matt took christian and cameron (and the dogs) up the mountain behind our house and hacked the trail. machetes and men. something about it! connor and calvin spent time walking on and surfing at the beach with our neighbors. and i spent a few good hours riding redd. after all of that, we came together and built gingerbread structures and continued in our reading aloud together of the chronicles of narnia...we are on the dawn treader...what a GREAT story! and what a special time that is sometimes hard to accomplish...the boys(and myself, i confess) don't always want to stop turn off the media and read with one another. it's hard, but the life long benefits are more than worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, my point is...sometimes it is HARD to do the things we are supposed to do. working on relationships(with each other as well as our intimacy with God), parenting, being...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; being with one another. BUT the more we do this, the more we'll do it! how do ya like that?!  even better though is romans 7:14-25...look it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-4778230487895661142?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/4778230487895661142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=4778230487895661142&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/4778230487895661142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/4778230487895661142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2010/12/more-we-get-togetherthe-happier-well-be.html' title='the more we get together...the happier we&apos;ll be'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/TQZlm2shCmI/AAAAAAAABdM/0Tf3xb6hmc0/s72-c/DSCN1220.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-71105652695251847</id><published>2010-12-09T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T16:28:43.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's been several years!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/TQF0E_GLXeI/AAAAAAAABdE/q2mH_slwlTY/s1600/DSCN0971.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548843844902804962" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/TQF0E_GLXeI/AAAAAAAABdE/q2mH_slwlTY/s400/DSCN0971.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WOW!! i just remembered that i have a blog! darn fb ruining my creative writing...isn't that just like us though...so much easier just to put a snippet up rather than taking the time to write a full thought! i couldn't even remember the name of this blog and where to find it...interesting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was thinking, as i riffled through all the OLD {my kids are so grown up since these last pics were taken!}posts on this blog, not much has changed, but at the same time, soooo much has changed. my sons have entered a different phase{half of them are teens!}, i have entered a different phase, my marriage is in a different phase. essentially, we are the same God lovin' people but we have all put a few lessons on the board since i last wrote. it's goooooood to look back to where you once were. it's like a measuring stick to where you are now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;one thing that has changed is that now...right now...i am &lt;em&gt;only&lt;/em&gt; a WIFE and MOM! Praise the Lord! perhaps, one reason that i've lost track of this blog is that i couldn't find it under all of my hats. we homeschooled for a few years, somewhat successfully, but now...the boys are back to public school and all is well. i'm loving so much my "new job"! it is so obviously where God wants me to be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so maybe, just maybe, i'll use some of my time to hang out here and get some thoughts out of my head. i used to love doing that...time to revisit~i do believe. stay tuned...might just get interesting!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-71105652695251847?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/71105652695251847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=71105652695251847&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/71105652695251847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/71105652695251847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2010/12/its-been-several-years.html' title='it&apos;s been several years!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/TQF0E_GLXeI/AAAAAAAABdE/q2mH_slwlTY/s72-c/DSCN0971.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-6992398273972768631</id><published>2008-11-13T18:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T18:46:37.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzlaimqQeI/AAAAAAAABWs/oLTiLqoNkaU/s1600-h/DSCN0157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268337908244955618" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzlaimqQeI/AAAAAAAABWs/oLTiLqoNkaU/s400/DSCN0157.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzk_lWrV8I/AAAAAAAABWk/anBEwhWcgkM/s1600-h/DSCN0155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268337445126756290" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzk_lWrV8I/AAAAAAAABWk/anBEwhWcgkM/s400/DSCN0155.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of our neighborhood kids ready to go. (Connor came up with "hobo" which here in SoCal isn't so rare, Cameron was GI Cam.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzkZgOm2xI/AAAAAAAABWc/qeyVd3JwjeY/s1600-h/DSCN0152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268336790915701522" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzkZgOm2xI/AAAAAAAABWc/qeyVd3JwjeY/s400/DSCN0152.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Calvin, I mean, Cap. Jack Sparrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzkKHHRffI/AAAAAAAABWU/xoL7DBqIq5I/s1600-h/DSCN0150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268336526476017138" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzkKHHRffI/AAAAAAAABWU/xoL7DBqIq5I/s400/DSCN0150.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one I have named "Skele-son" :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-6992398273972768631?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/6992398273972768631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=6992398273972768631&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/6992398273972768631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/6992398273972768631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2008/11/halloween-2008.html' title='Halloween 2008'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SRzlaimqQeI/AAAAAAAABWs/oLTiLqoNkaU/s72-c/DSCN0157.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-8070947539121197528</id><published>2008-05-14T10:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:45.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey there! Lately, I haven't been keeping up on the blog scene. Here's why...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our last six months started off with a bang...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1st Cameron whacked his leg on our white board for a whopping six stitches. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2nd Calvin fell in the living room while wrestling with Christian. That led to a very scary morning that included a CT scan and a concussion diagnosis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3rd Cameron flipped over his handle bars which ended in SEVERAL stab wounds from the rocks on his face. The ER doc glued him up good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SCspJNmhllI/AAAAAAAAAs8/PxsXfYGosEA/s1600-h/Cameron+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200295432976176722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SCspJNmhllI/AAAAAAAAAs8/PxsXfYGosEA/s320/Cameron+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4th Connor swinging on two desks in the classroom fell and smacked his head on the concrete/tile floor...was disoriented for approximatly 30 min. Was sent to the office, walked into the office turned around and went to the cafeteria and sat down to eat. This lead to another ER visit, CT scan and concussion diagnosis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5th (12 DAYS LATER!!) Connor, while surfing, smacked his face/mouth on his surf board which results in four stitches inside of his top lip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SCsor9mhlkI/AAAAAAAAAs0/ZEg3-Y-C7e4/s1600-h/DSCN0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200294930465003074" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SCsor9mhlkI/AAAAAAAAAs0/ZEg3-Y-C7e4/s320/DSCN0001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6th Calvin skateboarding at the Santa Barbara Skate Park, falls. His helmet jolted back exposing his forehead. Instant goose egg and vomitting. Back to the CT scan for him. 2nd concussion diagnosis. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7th Cameron. Can't find him. Christian and Connor lost track of him about an hour before coming home. They thought he came home. He didn't. So after physically looking for him in the house, calling everyone we know, searching in all of our normal play spots, calling the police and searching some more...we found him. He was in a family's home that we have never played with before. Til 9:30!!!!!!! Ugh, the most agonizing few hours of my whole life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8th and final(for now) Christian riding a mini motorcycle falls in the field behind our house, on his wrist. After about 24 hours he is still in pain, and it is swollen. Xrays reveal no broken bones. Just a bad sprain. In a splint for a week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SCsqj9mhlmI/AAAAAAAAAtE/cZNsV1Rep4g/s1600-h/DSCN0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200296992049305186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SCsqj9mhlmI/AAAAAAAAAtE/cZNsV1Rep4g/s320/DSCN0012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I have a break now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-8070947539121197528?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/8070947539121197528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=8070947539121197528&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8070947539121197528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8070947539121197528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2008/05/busy.html' title='Busy!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/SCspJNmhllI/AAAAAAAAAs8/PxsXfYGosEA/s72-c/Cameron+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-3802914829676577584</id><published>2008-02-11T08:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:46.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales of a Real Homemaker Part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Memeber all that ranting and feeling sorry for myself? Forget that! I am back...we had a great weekend, the weather was like summer. See for yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/R7B2kTIFatI/AAAAAAAAAow/fD2Jsb8Qmgg/s1600-h/DSCN3801.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165759138575510226" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/R7B2kTIFatI/AAAAAAAAAow/fD2Jsb8Qmgg/s400/DSCN3801.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/R7B27TIFauI/AAAAAAAAAo4/oYNvQtH4r48/s1600-h/dscn3799.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165759533712501474" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/R7B27TIFauI/AAAAAAAAAo4/oYNvQtH4r48/s400/dscn3799.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Connor and Calvin spent high tide building a driftwood fort in the rocks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-3802914829676577584?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/3802914829676577584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=3802914829676577584&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/3802914829676577584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/3802914829676577584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2008/02/tales-of-real-homemaker-part-ii.html' title='Tales of a Real Homemaker Part II'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/R7B2kTIFatI/AAAAAAAAAow/fD2Jsb8Qmgg/s72-c/DSCN3801.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-8380394442492774800</id><published>2008-02-07T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T09:40:49.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales of a real American homemaker.</title><content type='html'>Hey...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need to tell you that it has been a while since my last corespondence. I've been busy...doin' nothin. It's weird really, normally I am the busiest woman on the planet with the Matt, the boys, the dogs, the house...but just recently my motivation has gone. I am so annoyed with that. I am just consumed by being lazy. Not that I have let everything go to you know where...but it's more that I don't feel productive. Yeah, I have been checking homework, keeping up with the dogs, getting dinner on the table by five or six, laundry is mostly caught up, the house is semi orderly, blah, blah, blah...but I don't know. I guess I go through these phases of unrest. Like I don't really exist. Or I feel like my "job" is not enough. Maybe it is because we are struggling with finances right now, as usual, and I can't deposit any money. It is so frustrating! Might be more of a control issue or freedom issue...we are sort of slaves to the very thing that we are trying to get away from. Stupid money! I don't know. I am just a bit annoyed. It seems you have to be really wealthy to live simply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One big factor in all of this is my "goal" has been shot down. My plan to go to school this year has been put off again. It is the right thing to do, since Calvin isn't in Kindegarten yet(not til 2009/10) We are unable to justify spending an outrageous amount of $$, which we don't have, for childcare. So, Calvin will be better off with the extra year home with me but I am still horribly sad! I just feel like everytime I set a personal goal...it doesn't work out. Then I think, it really isn't about me...quit being such a baby. It's a rollercoaster, really. Gosh, I must sound like such a whiner! Sorry 'bout that. Okay, I think I am done feeling sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check back soon, I will work on a less selfish, whinny post. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-8380394442492774800?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/8380394442492774800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=8380394442492774800&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8380394442492774800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8380394442492774800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-been-while.html' title='Tales of a real American homemaker.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-2831454595673074418</id><published>2007-12-21T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T15:33:14.261-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Calvin</title><content type='html'>This last week has been rough. Here was our iternerary...&lt;br /&gt;Monday: Boys to school, Matt to work, Calvin to Grandpa's and Mom to the dentist to extract two of the four wisdom teeth.(the other two will be taken Jan. 7th)&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: Boys to school, Matt to work, Calvin and I to stay home for my recovery time.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Boys to school, Matt to work, Cal and I more recovery and get ready for Grandma to come and hang while Matt and I go to the company Christmas dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Then there is Thursday when time/schedules didn't matter: Boys to school, Matt to work...While wrestling with Christian, Calvin fell back and hit his head on the carpet floor, Calvin cries more than usual, Calvin throws up(red flag), Calvin falls immediatley to sleep(red flag!!)...but not before he told me that he wanted to go to heaven...can you even believe he said that??!! Mom and Calvin go to the doctor, Mom cries more than usual,  Calvin is checked out...and a CT scan is ordered. We drive to another facility that would take less time to get in, MUCH more crying and praying for sweet Calvin. Calvin eats some lunch and soon after throws it up...falls asleep in the car. Next, CT scan, and back to our doc for another exam and the reading of the scan...Results: Negative for everything...no bleeding or swelling...Calvin is diagnosed with a concussion. He is VERY sleepy and must be constantly monitored for the next 24 hours. A SERIOUS talk with all four sons (with lots of crying from Mom) about the dangers of rough housing occurs. Thursday night waking Calvin up a few times to make sure he can.&lt;br /&gt;Friday: All seems well. Calvin still complains of a headache and his symptoms can last for up to a month! But with rest and time he will heal fine.&lt;br /&gt;These are the things that often give us a HUGE slap in the face and remind us that our time is limited here. It isn't always going to be crazy, loud, sleep deprived, stressful...my sons will be grown some day and I am to cherish ALL of the time that I have with each of them. It doesn't take a huge dramatic fall off of a roof for my son to have a concussion...he fell on the carpet. It could have been worse, a whole ton worse...and thank God that it wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;So for today: recovery for Calvin (and Mom, I'm exhausted)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-2831454595673074418?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/2831454595673074418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=2831454595673074418&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/2831454595673074418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/2831454595673074418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/12/calvin.html' title='Calvin'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-8886685549549565148</id><published>2007-11-20T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T08:05:31.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Course food.</title><content type='html'>Did you ever notice that the way that you react or don't react to a situation directly changes the course of things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always thought (thanks alot Dr. Phil) that you teach people how to treat you...well, in my mind that meant to argue your point, don't take things lying down...blah, blah, blah. I am coming to find out that if you react calmly, for instance, most out of control situations die down and become reasonable. Or the other "party" seems to look internally instead of defending themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proverbs 15:1(NASB) "A gentle answer turns away wrath, But a harsh word stirs up anger. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food for thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-8886685549549565148?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/8886685549549565148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=8886685549549565148&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8886685549549565148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8886685549549565148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/11/course-food.html' title='Course food.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-8045148139270598845</id><published>2007-11-08T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T18:43:16.542-08:00</updated><title type='text'>List.</title><content type='html'>I think the reason that I haven't been keeping up on the blog scene lately is that I'm not really inspired or don't have anything inspiring to say. So, while reading other blogs I came across a random list of things...and "LO"(thanks Lauren) and behold I am inspired. She made a list of things on her mind. I shall do the same. Fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Sons are RAD!&lt;br /&gt;~Rad is an actual term used here in CA.(along with stoked, dude, and the like)&lt;br /&gt;~It's cute to see a four year old rockin' out to a youtube vid(he got to it himself)&lt;br /&gt;~You can make home made spanish rice in no time.&lt;br /&gt;~Music stirs emotion.&lt;br /&gt;~Americans want benefits without work.&lt;br /&gt;~Day light savings time SUCKS!(it's 6:40 and already been dark for over an hour)&lt;br /&gt;~Nothing is new under the son.&lt;br /&gt;~I love family.&lt;br /&gt;~Halloween candy=grouchy kids with headaches.&lt;br /&gt;~I am going to see Paramore in concert Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;~Dads are expert paper airplane makers.&lt;br /&gt;~I need a hair cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah...feels good to have something on the books. Have a good one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-8045148139270598845?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/8045148139270598845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=8045148139270598845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8045148139270598845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8045148139270598845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/11/list.html' title='List.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-7622748624163801947</id><published>2007-10-24T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:46.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fillion...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Ok, so it's been like a fillion years since my last post. Life has been happening, nonetheless! The boys are awesome. Matt and I are doing well...it's his bday today! We are all just livin' life to the fullest, everyday! Too much stuff to mention...Matt keeps better track of our stuff on the California Experiences link to the right. God is good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some cool pics from LC beach yesterday at like four in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rx94COkLZRI/AAAAAAAAAjg/6nZEinDHQvA/s1600-h/firesunLC+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124946880635823378" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rx94COkLZRI/AAAAAAAAAjg/6nZEinDHQvA/s320/firesunLC+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rx94YOkLZSI/AAAAAAAAAjo/dTsc_jppshQ/s1600-h/firesunLC+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124947258592945442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rx94YOkLZSI/AAAAAAAAAjo/dTsc_jppshQ/s320/firesunLC+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rx-L0-kLZTI/AAAAAAAAAjw/d4XXM9EHda4/s1600-h/firesunLC+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124968643235112242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rx-L0-kLZTI/AAAAAAAAAjw/d4XXM9EHda4/s320/firesunLC+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is a cute bonus pic of Cam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-7622748624163801947?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/7622748624163801947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=7622748624163801947&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/7622748624163801947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/7622748624163801947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/10/fillion.html' title='A Fillion...'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rx94COkLZRI/AAAAAAAAAjg/6nZEinDHQvA/s72-c/firesunLC+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-8764362611751730990</id><published>2007-06-02T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:46.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ch-ch-ch-changes</title><content type='html'>So, I am still enrolling in cosmetology school...&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gosh &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I wish I would have done that when I was 18! But in the meantime, I am going back to work. I am applying for salon jobs. One is in Montecito. A really cute salon with tons of bustling stylists, etc... I am really hoping for that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What will the boys do while I am at work, you ask? Well, we just happen to have a friend coming to live with us for the summer. Sarah Brown of South Bend, is 17 yrs old (a junior in high school) and ready to learn to surf. She may come to college here next year so what better way to get to know the area then to hang out with my kids while I am away. I am unbelievably excited for us, AND her!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacy and Fletcher came last weekend to visit...that was NOT enough time! We did, however, REALLY enjoy the time we had together. I have said this before...moving away from my best friend is like leaving behind my arm. It hurts!! But distance hasn't tangled with the awesome bond we have. I miss her, but she is still very much a part of my life. Phew!!!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RmIJSdMGZfI/AAAAAAAAAG4/n8rwijYO2SU/s1600-h/stacy+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071626343050274290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RmIJSdMGZfI/AAAAAAAAAG4/n8rwijYO2SU/s400/stacy+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-8764362611751730990?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/8764362611751730990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=8764362611751730990&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8764362611751730990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/8764362611751730990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/06/ch-ch-ch-changes.html' title='ch-ch-ch-changes'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RmIJSdMGZfI/AAAAAAAAAG4/n8rwijYO2SU/s72-c/stacy+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-4693190479765198790</id><published>2007-05-01T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T09:09:44.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the wait.</title><content type='html'>Have you ever felt like "If I just had this, everything would be great!" I feel like that today. I have a ton of needs, well at least that is what I call 'em. I need a car, I need to get Calvin into pre-school, I need a hair cut, I need to paint my walls, I need....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just have patience? Why is it that when I need something I have to have it RIGHT NOW!! Like some little spoiled brat. Time is something that is painful. It's either not going fast enough or going too fast. Maybe it's not time, maybe it's me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-4693190479765198790?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/4693190479765198790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=4693190479765198790&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/4693190479765198790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/4693190479765198790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/05/wait.html' title='the wait.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-5665607449501658127</id><published>2007-03-18T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:46.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Girls.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf31_hhW46I/AAAAAAAAADQ/5za1FO1CKNY/s1600-h/roxy+and+ginger+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043457629403669410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf31_hhW46I/AAAAAAAAADQ/5za1FO1CKNY/s320/roxy+and+ginger+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf310BhW45I/AAAAAAAAADI/YLrRQiF-6pU/s1600-h/roxy+and+ginger+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043457431835173778" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf310BhW45I/AAAAAAAAADI/YLrRQiF-6pU/s320/roxy+and+ginger+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The dogs...and Calvin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-5665607449501658127?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/5665607449501658127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=5665607449501658127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/5665607449501658127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/5665607449501658127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-girls.html' title='My Girls.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf31_hhW46I/AAAAAAAAADQ/5za1FO1CKNY/s72-c/roxy+and+ginger+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-360115734590935060</id><published>2007-03-18T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:47.422-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Plllllaaaaayyyyy BALL!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Opening day for Carpinteria Valley Little League. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf1ROxhW40I/AAAAAAAAACg/jGQQ-L1M30g/s1600-h/baseball+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043276471978091330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf1ROxhW40I/AAAAAAAAACg/jGQQ-L1M30g/s320/baseball+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Little League Pledge:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I trust in God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I love my country,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And will respect its laws.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will play fair,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And strive to win.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But win or lose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will always do my best!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf1THBhW41I/AAAAAAAAACo/2PKwbjRh5-Y/s1600-h/baseball+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043278537857360722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf1THBhW41I/AAAAAAAAACo/2PKwbjRh5-Y/s320/baseball+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf1TeBhW42I/AAAAAAAAACw/ZcjTVbkl3WQ/s1600-h/baseball+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043278932994351970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf1TeBhW42I/AAAAAAAAACw/ZcjTVbkl3WQ/s320/baseball+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christian and Connor will be playing with the RED WINGS...Matt will be coaching Cameron on the DEVIL RAYS! (Sorry for the distant pics...more to come.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-360115734590935060?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/360115734590935060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=360115734590935060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/360115734590935060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/360115734590935060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/03/plllllaaaaayyyyy-ball.html' title='Plllllaaaaayyyyy BALL!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rf1ROxhW40I/AAAAAAAAACg/jGQQ-L1M30g/s72-c/baseball+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-2583088568448101109</id><published>2007-03-12T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:52.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CIMI trip!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RfWTuRhW4zI/AAAAAAAAACY/pLIM6iSUveY/s1600-h/DSCF0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041097781097718578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RfWTuRhW4zI/AAAAAAAAACY/pLIM6iSUveY/s320/DSCF0001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where we live there is this string of islands(Catalina Island Marine Institute) just off of the coast and on a clear day it seems like you could throw a stone and hit 'em. But they are a three hour ferry ride away. Some are a wildlife preservation with indigenous animals, and some offer tours and camps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, at 4:30 (which feels like 3:30...curse you daylight savings time!!!) We got up to send Christian on his four day class field trip to these islands. What an amazing opportunity! He already asked if I could hold him back this year so he could go on the trip again. Not sure if he will be thinking that after a two and a half hour bus ride to the LongBeach harbor and a three hour ferry ride just to get there. I did give him his motion sickness meds. We shall see. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire 5th grade (about 50-60 kids) and several chaperons(one of my Christian friends will be going and keeping an eagle eye on my boy) will be living in dorms, eating in the mess hall, and having all sorts of adventures!! They will snorkel, hike, touch various sealife, go on a special night dive with glow sticks...and way more! I am so excited to see what he takes pics of!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the next few days will be filled with much praying for his safety, relationships with his buddies, his hopefully non-relationships with the girls ("she is just my friend"), and his memory making fun!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool stuff! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-2583088568448101109?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/2583088568448101109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=2583088568448101109&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/2583088568448101109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/2583088568448101109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/03/cimi-trip.html' title='CIMI trip!!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RfWTuRhW4zI/AAAAAAAAACY/pLIM6iSUveY/s72-c/DSCF0001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-4171274104824605177</id><published>2007-02-21T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:52.842-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is what it is.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rd0QXeAIDnI/AAAAAAAAACE/MqkPd_KuIVU/s1600-h/Q4YQ9CAL1HWY9CA0GN77JCAZT7DJICAWIK6ZWCA0TEW01CAVUIN3DCARL785SCA5YJCEICAP6UCEDCAJKNQ4GCAQ3IX14CAKD56PHCA8SIX1WCAZ4D3CPCA0PSAF9CAWJFBRJCA7998VPCA1I7XU7CAR7QTVP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034197953846709874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rd0QXeAIDnI/AAAAAAAAACE/MqkPd_KuIVU/s320/Q4YQ9CAL1HWY9CA0GN77JCAZT7DJICAWIK6ZWCA0TEW01CAVUIN3DCARL785SCA5YJCEICAP6UCEDCAJKNQ4GCAQ3IX14CAKD56PHCA8SIX1WCAZ4D3CPCA0PSAF9CAWJFBRJCA7998VPCA1I7XU7CAR7QTVP.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gladly give up! I give up trying to figure things out...for today. Trying to make my world make sense to me. As if it is actually "my" world. It is so much more than just making myself comfortable, so much more than wanting to know what my future holds, what direction to go in, so much deeper than who I think I am! Mysterious. I've been here before. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, the God who created this...&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rd0PTuAIDlI/AAAAAAAAAB0/51Mz56GqunU/s1600-h/H01E3CABNRR9DCAMJX189CAWC9LBWCAXM4UQICAZJLCVPCAYFYP4OCA2KIK0ZCAARO9M6CARDVVV1CAPLDHDZCAG5L4B3CA99YWQUCA71VMXPCAO913XBCAC2K5JGCA8UNPXTCAMF8U0TCAWMBRKVCA3AK1YV.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034196789910572626" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rd0PTuAIDlI/AAAAAAAAAB0/51Mz56GqunU/s320/H01E3CABNRR9DCAMJX189CAWC9LBWCAXM4UQICAZJLCVPCAYFYP4OCA2KIK0ZCAARO9M6CARDVVV1CAPLDHDZCAG5L4B3CA99YWQUCA71VMXPCAO913XBCAC2K5JGCA8UNPXTCAMF8U0TCAWMBRKVCA3AK1YV.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As well as this...&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rd0PkuAIDmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/tYXby9dB77g/s1600-h/07VVCCAAA749QCACK2104CA4Z0SDSCAJTW7SECA6WWHXDCALHVTNBCAQIBQL6CAAJGP1PCASABE5ZCAFVMVEZCAG4SLBSCAKM7RUZCA5O60UXCAGCOZOECAKX39SOCACQ3CQVCAK4VOHICAIXJ04RCAQFYHTE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034197081968348770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rd0PkuAIDmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/tYXby9dB77g/s320/07VVCCAAA749QCACK2104CA4Z0SDSCAJTW7SECA6WWHXDCALHVTNBCAQIBQL6CAAJGP1PCASABE5ZCAFVMVEZCAG4SLBSCAKM7RUZCA5O60UXCAGCOZOECAKX39SOCACQ3CQVCAK4VOHICAIXJ04RCAQFYHTE.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Has me and "my world" under control. I have a hunch that God in all His glory is pleased. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-4171274104824605177?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/4171274104824605177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=4171274104824605177&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/4171274104824605177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/4171274104824605177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/02/it-is-what-it-is.html' title='It is what it is.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/Rd0QXeAIDnI/AAAAAAAAACE/MqkPd_KuIVU/s72-c/Q4YQ9CAL1HWY9CA0GN77JCAZT7DJICAWIK6ZWCA0TEW01CAVUIN3DCARL785SCA5YJCEICAP6UCEDCAJKNQ4GCAQ3IX14CAKD56PHCA8SIX1WCAZ4D3CPCA0PSAF9CAWJFBRJCA7998VPCA1I7XU7CAR7QTVP.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-1291009871859334769</id><published>2007-01-19T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:27:53.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RbDteQ_WdII/AAAAAAAAABY/bIsL_2Cze2E/s1600-h/imagesCAZ10ZGN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021774688730641538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RbDteQ_WdII/AAAAAAAAABY/bIsL_2Cze2E/s320/imagesCAZ10ZGN.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am trying to wrap my mind around when we, humans, actually grow up. What is maturity based on? Why is it so difficult, in my household, to figure out the right direction to go in?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean by society's standards we should have had like 12 years of our "careers" under our belt, a retirement fund, land to pass down through the generations, blah, blah, blah...But we still don't know who we are. We are slowly inching in that direction. But not there yet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry so random...just what I was thinking today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-1291009871859334769?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/1291009871859334769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=1291009871859334769&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/1291009871859334769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/1291009871859334769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2007/01/lifes-journey.html' title='Life&apos;s Journey'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2JG2txhWmQ/RbDteQ_WdII/AAAAAAAAABY/bIsL_2Cze2E/s72-c/imagesCAZ10ZGN.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-116736420757371825</id><published>2006-12-28T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T20:58:35.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Jesus!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1392/1906/1600/526678/PC170187%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1392/1906/320/443052/PC170187%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This is our community Christmas tree built with driftwood that we gathered from our beach. What a fun time here in our town!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Thank you God for being born!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-116736420757371825?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/116736420757371825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=116736420757371825&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116736420757371825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116736420757371825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/12/sweet-jesus.html' title='Sweet Jesus!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-116527086424773710</id><published>2006-12-04T14:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T14:21:04.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 dads + 7 kids=...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1392/1906/1600/183642/DSCF0036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1392/1906/320/372101/DSCF0036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1392/1906/1600/735707/DSCF0033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1392/1906/320/297887/DSCF0033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half-pipe skateboarding and mattress riding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-116527086424773710?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/116527086424773710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=116527086424773710&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116527086424773710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116527086424773710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/12/2-dads-7-kids.html' title='2 dads + 7 kids=...'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-116269894824180022</id><published>2006-11-04T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T19:55:48.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Heat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[6].1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B6%5D.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt took Christian, Connor, Cameron, and their friend Luke(pictured in the Halloween post)to Oxnard Shores today. There they found their first surf contest sponsored by Volcom. The had a blast! Christian and Luke each placed 5th in their heats. Connor placed third and advanced to the next round! Matt and I aren't impressed with the"contest"atmosphere and the pressure put on kids. Not to mention the music that they play is less than okay for children to hear. But other than that the boys all LOVED it! All of them are already talking &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[6].0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B6%5D.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;about the next event. "Let the Kids Ride Free!"~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-116269894824180022?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/116269894824180022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=116269894824180022&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116269894824180022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116269894824180022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/11/heat.html' title='The Heat.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-116239989193746000</id><published>2006-11-01T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T08:37:03.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What would He do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCF0058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCF0058.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I find myself pondering the reality of what Jesus would actually do if he lived here in the flesh. We have spent most of our married life in a "Church Bubble". We were heavily involved in teaching Sunday school, singing with the worship team, hosting and leading small groups and spending all of our time and energy in the church or with other Christians. While that in itself isn't terrible, actually it was quite wonderful! I just felt when we moved to Cali, that we were somehow in grave danger. That the "others" were going to contaminate us. Like lepers or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, last night we went trick or treating. Somehow I felt like if Jesus was here in La Conchita, He would have been right there with us. He would be with the sick, the lepers, the drunks...he would be at the party! He would be shining His Holy light in the darkness. Letting His Love spill out to the people. So that they may come to know Him. I am sure that He wouldn't keep himself locked up in the church building, forming his own exclusive club. Who will dine with the sick?Who will shine a light in a dark place? Who will share the love of Christ with the families of my sweet little town? Me and my house, that's who!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-116239989193746000?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/116239989193746000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=116239989193746000&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116239989193746000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/116239989193746000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/11/what-would-he-do.html' title='What would He do?'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-115888345902988968</id><published>2006-09-21T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T17:07:08.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama in the L. C.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Img0057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Img0057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the landslide in January 2005 there have been many homes red tagged as a geological hazard. Noone is allowed to reside in these dwellings as they are deemed dangerous. That doesn't mean that the actual people that own said homes aren't staying in them illegally.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Img0056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Img0056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In fact, one home in particular has had several "visitors". The owner, his son, and his girlfriend have all been chased out of it by the police on several occasions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Img0059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Img0059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I explaining all of this to you? This morning at 9 a.m. smoke was billowing out of the house. Several fire trucks lined our street. And firefighters raced about trying to figure out the best way to tackle this "project". They ended up getting on the roof and cutting a hole with a chainsaw, and opened all of the windows. Not sure how they put it out. But they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Img0054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Img0054.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how does an abandoned home without electricity catch fire??? Hmmmm....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-115888345902988968?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/115888345902988968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=115888345902988968&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115888345902988968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115888345902988968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/09/drama-in-l-c.html' title='Drama in the L. C.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-115859394398597059</id><published>2006-09-18T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T09:10:55.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feel the Burn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/imaged669c0bd-58e4-43ef-9c6d-1f8e8b01474d[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/imaged669c0bd-58e4-43ef-9c6d-1f8e8b01474d%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I rarely watch the news, last week I heard about the recent Southern California wildfires from Dad back in the Midwest. This past weekend, though, we saw, smelled and breathed smoke. It started to creep up the coast (the smoke, not fire) on Saturday and by Sunday morning ash settled all over our house, cars and beach. It smells like camping. While our area isn't in any danger being about 1 1/2 hours away,  it feels really strange! The sun was muted by the smoke layer yesterday and it felt a bit like a horror movie. Similar to the feeling just before a tornado or during a solar eclipse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/031024fire11.sized[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/031024fire11.sized%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other weird feelings, Matt and I took our regularly scheduled walk this morning. It started a bit chilly in town but when the &lt;a href="http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/07/100-foot-crouch-walk.html"&gt;tunnel&lt;/a&gt; spit us out on the beach it was oddly warm. Upon reentering, the air being sucked out from town was like that of an air conditioner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-115859394398597059?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/115859394398597059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=115859394398597059&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115859394398597059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115859394398597059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/09/feel-burn.html' title='Feel the Burn'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-115651769402256004</id><published>2006-08-25T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T07:54:54.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filling up nicely.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2332.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2332.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's in for the boys. And Calvin and I are figuring out what to do with our 7am-3pm alone time. I found a couple of things...#1 Roxy. She's our new dog. We have had her for almost a week. Already she is proving to be smart, loyal, gentle, protective, and fun. Calvin and I have been spending (and will spend) a ton of time leash training her. She is really strong! And when she first came to us last week she would pull me and the jogger stroller down the street. I think she could be a tracking dog...she follows tracks. Well, she is learning fairly quickly that the pulling thing is a no go! Matt and I have been doing research on line and one technique is when she pulls even a little on the leash we stop and don't go a single step further until she stops pulling and looks at me. This has proven to work wonders in a short amount of time. With patience, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 I landed two cleaning jobs here in town yesterday. Calvin can come with me. AWESOME! And #3, on Mondays I still watch "The Lilleys Three" (my friend's kids from a couple of blocks away) So, our time is filling nicely. Not too much, just enough and a little cash on the side doesn't hurt my feelings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-115651769402256004?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/115651769402256004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=115651769402256004&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115651769402256004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115651769402256004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/08/filling-up-nicely.html' title='Filling up nicely.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-115523307563205263</id><published>2006-08-10T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T12:25:24.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's take a look, shall we?</title><content type='html'>Before the boys were out of school I tried to compile a list of goals for the summer. And now we are at a point where I need to check our progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Calvin is potty trained!! Woo-hoo! That was a big one for me. No more diapers and we are well on our way to no more pull-ups at night! I think i need to start saving the money we used to spend on those in some sort of envelope...so we can actually enjoy the "extra savings". Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "program" that we got for the brain stimulation has been great! They each finished the entire computer game and are doing well on the workbooks and crafts. Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the boys learning air travel....done! They (Christian, Connor, and Cameron) ended up flying on their own flight on the way home. Yes, they flew with out me and Calvin! They did great! I am so proud of them! Double Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see what else...oh, reading. We haven't done much reading. We haven't been very still much. So, no check there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCF0117.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCF0117.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did have a wonderful visit with our family back in the Midwest. We enjoyed a week with Papa and Grammy (my parents), spent a few days with Stacy, some time with Steve, Rhonda and the girls, and the rest of the time was with Grammy Pat, Grandpa Dale and Uncle Jon(Matt's parents and brother). And we managed to squeeze in short visits with Great-Grandma and Grandpa Smothermon; Tara and new baby Bradley; Aunt Linda; Uncle Dan; my friend Tammy and her boys; Oksana, Rob, and their kids; Kristie and her 3; and Lynnea...oh, and Mina with her 3...and one of the nights we were with Stacy she had several friends come over for ice cream...that is when we saw Randy, Cassie and Sarah; Bryan, Stacey and their kids and we got to see Chloe (our old dog). And many more!! Whew...I say CHECK-A-ROO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I think we are doing pretty decent. We have about 2 weeks until school is back in session. That time really flew by!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-115523307563205263?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/115523307563205263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=115523307563205263&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115523307563205263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115523307563205263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/08/lets-take-look-shall-we.html' title='Let&apos;s take a look, shall we?'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-115215793203604894</id><published>2006-07-05T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T20:55:25.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>100 foot crouch walk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2236.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2236.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know we can't ever move from here.", I said to Matt during our Independence Day camp out on our semi private beach. I think we have found who we are! Beach bums. We live in this little paradise complete with hippies, landslides, and surf. We had the most incredible weekend. It started on Saturday when Matt's cousin Jeff, his wife Rachelle and their dog Maggie came up from San Diego for the weekend. What a great time we had. Most of our visit was spent on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2215.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2215.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know...the town we live in is separated from the beach by the 101 freeway. In order for people to utilize this beach there are two ways to get there. One, park on the side of the extremely busy main line to LA and make the 20-30 foot climb down the rocks or, the option that we choose...grab your stuff and cart it through the four foot high, drainage tunnel that goes under that busy freeway (a good 100 foot crouch walk). You can imagine that with no formal access this beach is not used as much as other beaches. Accept of course, by the residents of La Conchita. The benefit is...it isn't a "state beach" so you can pretty much do what ever you want. We stayed the weekend there. Our friend Skip has this awesome bamboo in his yard so he cut it down and built this teepee. That is where we lived the past few days. Had campfire meals, and the boys surfed dusk til dawn. Great times with new friends. I can't think of another place that can compete with the experiences that we have had this last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2238.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Goof balls from the left: Christian, Cameron, Connor, Kevin and Julie Maria. I think they got too much sun. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 4 day weekend ended with fireworks on the beach and absolutely exhausted children. No need to travel for vacation. We live on vacation. Priceless!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-115215793203604894?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/115215793203604894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=115215793203604894&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115215793203604894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115215793203604894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/07/100-foot-crouch-walk.html' title='100 foot crouch walk'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-115022868546537479</id><published>2006-06-13T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T13:00:24.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a smack in the face.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/camtalkstofletcher%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/camtalkstofletcher%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's next? What is the next big adventure, project, move, opportunity? What is the plan for the future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I just had a revelation! I am obsessed with the above questions. I am always thinking of a new plan. Always looking to improve our current situation or always trying to figure out what ministry or project does God want me on. When all the while I have a home, neighbors, and of course children and husband that already are my ministry! So maybe my questions should be where do I already live, what am I doing already, what opportunities do I miss in my search for my next opportunity? Am I being a good steward with things as they are? Time to take inventory of where I am needed ALREADY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-115022868546537479?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/115022868546537479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=115022868546537479&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115022868546537479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/115022868546537479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/06/smack-in-face.html' title='a smack in the face.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114918000064609650</id><published>2006-06-01T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-03T08:50:40.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the end of the world as we know it...or at least the school year is over.</title><content type='html'>Every year since the boys have been in school, I start to panic when summer gets closer. There is some sort of physical pressure that I feel. Like when you squeeze a water balloon or a tube of toothpaste. The thing is that if I don't have a plan complete with time schedule and list of goals for the summer, we will just watch tv and their brains will turn to mush! And like the minty tube I will explode! You can't get that stuff back in there! So, you can imagine my minor relie&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[5].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B5%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;f and excitement when the school sent home a &lt;a href="http://www.summervacationlearning.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=home1"&gt;program&lt;/a&gt; that we can do on our own over the summer. The package includes a workbook, activity kit, and computer program for next grade level readiness! I am really looking forward to it! The boys are, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as goals. I want them each to read a grade appropriate book on their own. Christian needs to work on his "love of reading", Connor will be practicing his spelling, Cameron needs help with rhyming and reading on his own, and Calvin's goal is to be potty trained before his birthday in August...we are well on our way! And for him to start more colors and shapes and even letters. Of course, we will be having tons of fun on our vacation back home...practice swimming in a pool and lots of family time. And during travel I would like for Christian and Connor to lead us by our itenerary, and learn air travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew!!!! I am semi-ready...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114918000064609650?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114918000064609650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114918000064609650&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114918000064609650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114918000064609650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/06/its-end-of-world-as-we-know-itor-at.html' title='It&apos;s the end of the world as we know it...or at least the school year is over.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114893169218225394</id><published>2006-05-29T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T12:57:58.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What am I like?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[9].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/200/images%5B9%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.personaldna.com/report.php?k=LBvTDMBvBupxmTW-JN-CDBDA-9488"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Personal Dna Report&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting survey. Apparently, I am an "attentive curator". Huh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114893169218225394?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114893169218225394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114893169218225394&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114893169218225394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114893169218225394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-am-i-like.html' title='What am I like?'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114815077933953737</id><published>2006-05-20T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T11:49:03.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>some photographs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2112.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2110.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCN2111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCN2111.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just playin' with the camera...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114815077933953737?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114815077933953737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114815077933953737&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114815077933953737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114815077933953737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/05/some-photographs.html' title='some photographs.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114805123038323026</id><published>2006-05-19T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T09:12:10.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Near a Year Off the Ball!</title><content type='html'>It has been almost a year since we made the move to Cali. It has been fabulous in some areas. We are two blocks from my mom, the ocean/beach(I can see it from my bed), beautiful landscape, mountains. It has, for me, been VERY difficult in other areas. I don't hang out with my best friend(rare&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/sleeping%20004.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/sleeping%20004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ly can we talk on the phone), or my mother-in-law, I don't live close to the boys school anymore, haven't found my place in church service yet, can't get to the library, lost my focus, my purpose, don't have a close network of "iron sharpens iron, spur each other on in Godly mothering"...I guess that is what I am grieving the most. &lt;a href="http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/bff.html"&gt;Stacy&lt;/a&gt; is my iron! It didn't matter what was going on hanging out together with or without kids or husbands, was always on the list. We went through a time where both of our husbands had things to do on Monday nights...and with a combined 8 sons and daughters and one nephew, why not get together and do life! We alternated weeks at eachother's house for dinner, baths, reading and some chaos in between...but because we were doing it together it created lasting memories for us and the kids. I have countless times like that I could mention. My point is, my roots are drying up! I am sort of uninspired. Stranded here in this town. I keep trying to convince myself that this is a sweet little town, maybe it used to be. When I was oblivious to the actual happenings. Pray for me to get back on the ball, get back in the game...find more iron.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114805123038323026?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114805123038323026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114805123038323026&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114805123038323026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114805123038323026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/05/near-year-off-ball.html' title='Near a Year Off the Ball!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114798725611263559</id><published>2006-05-18T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T14:22:54.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>landscape</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Rooftop%20003.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Rooftop%20003.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house we live in comes with gardeners. What little yard we have really needs work every month. They mow and edge the grass along the fence and keep up with our jasmine and pretty pink flowery bush(technical term). Well, they are here today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just recently I was saying to myself, "Self, that jasmine is beautiful!!! I like how it looks semi over grown!" I remembered then that God made that flower/bush. So, fragrant...so dazzling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut back to the gardeners. They have masacred my jasmine!!!!! I know, that is what you are supposed to do...pruning or whatever. But it hurts! Now its all short and stubby. Still fragrant and dazzling...and has so much hope for a better, healthier life now that it has been maintained. They could've just let it grow and then what? It would have&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[1].0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B1%5D.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; taken over the world...it would've gotten infested with weeds and then you wouldn't even know which one was supposed to be the flower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God does that! To me. To His children. Pruning, I mean. He is in it for the long haul, the big picture...and that doesn't involve letting me go. That involves a ton of careful, perfect gardening!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114798725611263559?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114798725611263559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114798725611263559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114798725611263559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114798725611263559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/05/landscape.html' title='landscape'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114771816241980607</id><published>2006-05-15T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T11:43:50.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy kidney infection day!</title><content type='html'>So, yeste&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[3].0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B3%5D.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rday was mother's day. I spent it in bed with a fever an&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/eardiagramnurse[1].gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d all the symptoms of a kidney infection. (which were sporadic all of last week) I couldn't take it and called my mom (Matt and the boys went surfing to give me some quiet nap time...sweet!) and we headed off the the Ventura ER. We brought Calvin with us because he had a fever and drainage from his ear. So, two for one at the emergency room. Weird though, that we would both go down on the same day with two unrelated illnesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie Lundy Dx: Pyelonephritis(kidney infection)&lt;br /&gt;Calvin Lundy Dx: Otitis Media(middle ear infection)/Perforated Tympanic Membrane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are both on tons of medication, and hopefully on the way to recovery!!!!! Who has time to be sick?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114771816241980607?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114771816241980607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114771816241980607&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114771816241980607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114771816241980607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-kidney-infection-day.html' title='Happy kidney infection day!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114721563857953152</id><published>2006-05-09T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T16:19:40.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory? Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[29].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B29%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news-service.stanford.edu/news/2004/january14/memory-114.html"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt; is a link that I found in my researching memory today. Check it out...fascinating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114721563857953152?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114721563857953152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114721563857953152&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114721563857953152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114721563857953152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/05/memory-two.html' title='Memory? Two'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114720671492945085</id><published>2006-05-09T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T13:32:59.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory?</title><content type='html'>I know...It has been a super long time since my last post. Just haven't felt inspired. Mostly because our computer is in the shop. We are using one now that Mom gave us from work. (Thanks Mom!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough for me to be off-line! I have really come to enjoy my connectedness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thought for the day for me (and I suppose for the last month) How does memory work? &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[28].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B28%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not in my computer, but in the human brain. Some people remember every detail of their childhood, others remember bits and pieces, and still others have memories that for one reason or another have been pushed to a vault in the mind only to leak out at random times. As if they have been triggered. For me, it calls into question the validity of any memories. Are they true? Did "that" really happen? Or was it the perception of the memory holder? What was the context? Or the sequence of "events"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been dealing, recently, with my own experiences and memories. Some sweet and lovely...some (that have just been released from the "vault") absolutely horrid! But at the end of the day, I end up with, "They are my story." What do I do with them? How do I heal? The stage I find myself in right now is...trying to put them back. That is what I do best. Something to think about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114720671492945085?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114720671492945085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114720671492945085&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114720671492945085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114720671492945085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/05/memory.html' title='Memory?'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114469793080262301</id><published>2006-04-10T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T13:12:24.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spam.</title><content type='html'>Used to eat this all the time as kids, now it is time to pass on the salty-goodness to the next generation...&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[2].0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B2%5D.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fry it up, put it on whole wheat toast, with lettuce and mayo...whoa dude! I like spam!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was lunch...the boys are on spring break. Right now, Calvin is napping, but Christian, Connor and Cameron are having a war...weapon of choice? Chopsticks!!! Very inventive...there are rules and everything. I love it when they make up games...boys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114469793080262301?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114469793080262301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114469793080262301&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114469793080262301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114469793080262301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/04/spam.html' title='Spam.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114469358054979342</id><published>2006-04-10T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T11:27:52.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Happenings.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/mondos%20001.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/mondos%20001.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bird came back last Friday...Went surfing on Saturday (at Mondo's) Christian, Connor and Cameron surfed Calvin played on the beach and put on chap stick...And Sweet Elise turned 2 on Sunday (Party at the park!) What a good weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/mondos%20003.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/mondos%20003.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/mondos%20009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/mondos%20009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Elisebirthday%20015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Elisebirthday%20015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Elisebirthday%20017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Elisebirthday%20017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114469358054979342?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114469358054979342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114469358054979342&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114469358054979342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114469358054979342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/04/weekend-happenings.html' title='Weekend Happenings.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114436384673451035</id><published>2006-04-06T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T15:56:40.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Many Shades of Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/mom004.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/mom004.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me... I love to color my hair. This picture doesn't do my "fuscia flash" justice! Well, what if I could take that a step further and dye mySELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/mom%20006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/mom%20006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I would look like if I was green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/mom%20005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/mom%20005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obviously, I should go blue and purple. Don't worry, I am only kidding...you really thought I was going to color myself! hahahahahahaha....gotcha! (I might if it were possible, wait a minute maybe it is...)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114436384673451035?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114436384673451035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114436384673451035&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114436384673451035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114436384673451035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/04/many-shades-of-me.html' title='Many Shades of Me.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114374778111786877</id><published>2006-03-30T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T11:43:01.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fascinated by simple things.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/sciencefair%20and%20the%20snail%20004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/sciencefair%20and%20the%20snail%20004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little ones are so easily fascinated! Take this snail for example. He is just doing what he does. Calvin and Elise are completely taken by him...like a good thirty minutes of slimy entertainment! I love it! &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/sciencefair%20and%20the%20snail%20009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/sciencefair%20and%20the%20snail%20009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114374778111786877?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114374778111786877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114374778111786877&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114374778111786877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114374778111786877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/03/fascinated-by-simple-things.html' title='Fascinated by simple things.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114314747079210229</id><published>2006-03-23T12:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T12:57:50.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A conversation with m'boy.</title><content type='html'>So, Cameron and I were chatting this morning on our walk to the bus. He said to me, "Do I have to get married?" I said, "No, you don't &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; to. You could stay single, if you want." "My friend said that I &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;have to&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; marry a girl when I get big. I don't want to get married." "Well, Cameron," I replied, "God says in the bible that it would be better for you to do his work if you can stay single." Cam said to me in his priceless way, "I don't want to get married, cuz you have to kiss...that is gross! Remind me, mom, when I get big. Help me remember not to get married, 'kay?" "Okay Cameron..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCF0003.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how his mind works...not sure if he will feel the same when he "gets big".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114314747079210229?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114314747079210229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114314747079210229&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114314747079210229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114314747079210229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/03/conversation-with-mboy.html' title='A conversation with m&apos;boy.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114273587277427470</id><published>2006-03-18T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T11:21:22.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cure for the common woman...</title><content type='html'>So, a cure for my previous post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;step#1: get an amazing husband that will take all four of your sons all day so that you can do step #2 and on top of that... buys you peanut butter chocolate chip cookies and peeps (two of my absolute favorite treats!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;step #2: go get an in depth facial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kamalaspa.com/style/images/pfacial.jpg" target="_top"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kamalaspa.com/style/images/pfacial.jpg" target="_top"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Christmas this year David (Matt's bro) gave my mom and I a four time visit package to a local salon. The first visit was hair, this time it was face! And let me just say...THANKS DAVE! I went in thinking that it was going to be like the facial that you get at the mall. NOT SO...it was amazin&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[24].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B24%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;g. First, Mandy (the facial giver) takes you to this low lit room with soft music and aromatherapy. You put on the gown thingy and wait...in a heated bed with really soft blankets. She comes in and you just close your eyes and enjoy the decollete massage and deep skin stuff. The aroma is mostly lavendar and stuff like that. By the time it was over I was like butter. Too bad I had to re-enter the nasty world. I really didn't want to come out of that room. That's okay though, in two weeks we go back for visit #3: exfolliating back salt glow...and some other stuff. yesssssss...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhhhh....I am much better now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114273587277427470?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114273587277427470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114273587277427470&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114273587277427470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114273587277427470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/03/cure-for-common-woman.html' title='Cure for the common woman...'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114269822359981234</id><published>2006-03-18T07:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T14:44:16.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Women!</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I have been a little out of touch lately. I haven't really been in contact with my&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[8].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B8%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;self either. You see, I go through these times, as a wife and mother, where I lose who I am. It is this weird self pity, crap that keeps coming up on me. Whaa, whaa...I just feel like everything I do is for someone else. I plan my day around everyone, wake up when they all need to be up, make what they want to eat, sleep when they sleep, watch what they want to watch, do what they want to do...it goes on and on. Don't get me wrong, Matt and the boys don't make me do or feel these things. I think it is a classic case of spiritual warfare. There is a tempter that wants me to feel bad and blame people and bail on my life...I am NOT interested in that!!! "Get behind me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am not feeling blue, I love to do those "things" mentioned above. I want to &lt;em&gt;be &lt;/em&gt;there for the kids and for Matt. I love taking care of them and meeting there needs! That is what I was born to do...for crying out loud, we are raising men here! ...but no one warns you about the tough times when all you want is 5 minutes to pee by yourself!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there are times like this morning...Matt has just left with all of the boys and gone to into town. Connor has a thing to do there and &lt;a href="http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-man.html"&gt;MY MAN&lt;/a&gt; decided to take all four boys and go to surf shops after Connor's appointment. WHOA! You should hear the house. It is silent! I don't really like it...ugh, women!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114269822359981234?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114269822359981234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114269822359981234&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114269822359981234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114269822359981234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/03/women.html' title='Women!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114192248551852222</id><published>2006-03-09T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T16:31:37.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drum roll, please...</title><content type='html'>Hey, I am back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be bold and venture to say that I cannot have a relationship with my Lord, with out the discipline of prayer. It is just ridiculous! It makes no sense. It would be non-existant! And it is so often the case! I fall into times when I don't talk to God, or more importantly, I don't listen to God. Or even try to hear Him. And I have every excuse in the book. I am too busy. Everyone needs me. I am too tired. I don't want to. On and on. But would I treat my husband the same way. We would have (and have had) a non-relationship if we didn't talk. There was a time in our marriage that we worked opposite shifts. I would keep the kids in the morning while he worked and he would be on with the kids in the afternoon/evening while I worked. We ended up see&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[15].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B15%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ing eachother for about 1 collective hour per day. And that time was spent giving update on the kids (what they ate, if they pooped, ya know the usual). And the other time was spent trying to coordinate the next day. A pretty poor picture of a deep meaningful relationship. Thank God we are out of that. Relationships take time, energy, work and sincerity. I have heard it said that "Prayer is the conduit to the all important relationship with our Lord and Savior!" If we aren't plugging in...there is NO power. Whoa dude!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114192248551852222?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114192248551852222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114192248551852222&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114192248551852222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114192248551852222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/03/drum-roll-please.html' title='Drum roll, please...'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114142506376699012</id><published>2006-03-03T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T14:38:03.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Again, I say REJOICE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[2].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In honor of my 25th post I am eating another amazing snack by "Chex Mix". (thanks Mom!) The peanut butter version! A-MAZ-ING!!! Stop what you are doing, get in the car, go to the grocery store and buy some right now!!! You will not regret it! No, really...go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Happy 25th my dear blog! (you're right, I am a little nutso. Stay tuned!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114142506376699012?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114142506376699012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114142506376699012&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114142506376699012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114142506376699012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/03/again-i-say-rejoice.html' title='Again, I say REJOICE!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114133462577960999</id><published>2006-03-02T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T13:30:51.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/sleeping%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/sleeping%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calvin. The youngest of four sons. Sweet little Calvin. Isn't he precious?! A toddler sleeping, what is sweeter than that? I'll tell you what...the carton of frosting that he ate in my closet this morning!! Yeah, that's right. Chocolate frosting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am learning a whole new side to this little boy. Let me fill you in. First, yesterday, while he was quietly watching "Blue's Clues" on the laptop, I went to make dinner. Awesome, a full 24 minute video to keep him busy. Well, he was busy alright! I went in to check on him between stirs, letters from the keyboard all over my bed!!! He was plucking them off one by one! How fun is that?! Later in the evening, he ate some chocolate frosting that was leftover in the fridge from last weekend's cupcakes. He sort of went nutso! He was running around, jumping and making strange noises. Unable to control himself and then put himself to bed after a crying fit at like 7pm...SUGAR CRASH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this morning, he gets the same tub of chocolatey sweet goodness and asks to have some. I said, "No, put it away." We were not going to have a replay of last night. He did. But he went back when I wasn't looking, took it, went to hide in my closet and proceeded to eat almost all of it with his hands!! It was everywhere!!! Hands, face, pants, carpet, wall...UGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt brought up a good point, as usual. What caused our 2 1/2 year old son to know that he had to hide? Environment? Maybe partially, but more than that! There must be (even at his age) something in his human nature that caused him to take his disobedience into the closet! Adam and Eve hid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114133462577960999?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114133462577960999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114133462577960999&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114133462577960999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114133462577960999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/03/sweet.html' title='Sweet.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114116917268894140</id><published>2006-02-28T14:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T15:29:27.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Tuesday Morning Girls.</title><content type='html'>I am amazed at the extent of which God takes care of me. I have been involved with this group of girls that meets every Tuesday to learn about the Lord and discuss what that means in our lives. This group is amazing! We are about 12-15 girls and from all seasons of life. Some are just starting out having kids, some have grown children my age. It is beautiful. It didn't take long to feel the sisterhood in that room! Today, we met as usual to talk about our previously studied chapter in the book we are studying (Lord, only You can change me-Kay Arthur). But it is so much more than that. We are "doing life together". It is such a safe place to be real and open and not be judged. But deal with issues, pray for healing and strength, and just be equipped to be the wives and moth&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/imgage[2].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/imgage%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ers and women that God wants us to be. When one of us is in break down mode, we stop and pray for the Holy Spirit to give guidance or clarity. It is so utterly holy. God is with us in that room. (Where two or more are gathered in My Name, there I will be also. -loose paraphrase, you get the idea)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the most amazing part to me. We moved here only 6 months ago. I had my roots in South Bend, IN. So deep, in fact, that I still grieve over not being there! I have my friends and family there, but they are so much more than friends and family they are my "people". But, get this, God came with me...and has provide for me another network of my "people"! No, my Indiana "people" haven't been replaced, God has just provide for me an extension of His family. He doesn't only provide for our physical needs, He handles our hearts very gently and lovingly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114116917268894140?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114116917268894140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114116917268894140&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114116917268894140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114116917268894140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-tuesday-morning-girls.html' title='My Tuesday Morning Girls.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114080095257815170</id><published>2006-02-24T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T12:07:05.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She is Me.</title><content type='html'>I have come to a realization...want to read it? Okay. As Matt's wife and the boys' mom I have a lot of responsibilities. Yeah, there are the dailies like keeping them all fed, clean, hugged, kissed and on schedule. But there is so much more to who they are. They ar&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/prayerwarrior[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/prayerwarrior%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;en't just these physical beings requiring only physical things. More importanly, they each have heart, mind, and soul. I am here, on their behalf, to engage in the "spiritual battle". Is there anyone who knows a husband better than his wife? Or children better than their mother? Who has the down low on their situations, and attitudes...with context? She is me! EUREKA!!That is it! I need to be on my face before the Heavenly Father, interceding for them. Covering them always. What power there is in that!! Thank you, God, for this honorable responsibility...privelage!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114080095257815170?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114080095257815170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114080095257815170&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114080095257815170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114080095257815170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/she-is-me.html' title='She is Me.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114046453100532164</id><published>2006-02-20T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T08:40:24.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom of Simplicity</title><content type='html'>In the past eight years, Matt and I have been involved in several small group bible studies. Some of the books w&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[99].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B99%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e read were "The Freedom of Simplicity"-by Richard Foster and "Making Room for Life"&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;-Randy Frazee. It has taken this long for me to start understanding these concepts. We have been stripped and willingly letting go of the "NOISE" in our life. God showed me a minor glimpse of the freedom this past week while I was rearranging and decluttering our living room. Very minor but decent analogy. Hang in there with me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who have been to my home, we have a big space that is(was) used for dining, living, playing, television watching, surfing, wrestling, football, everything. Well, this past week I had a day that I couldn't take all of the noise anymore. There were WAY too many things going on in there! Like our lives, way too many things going on in there! There was no focus. No relating, just chaos and noise. Kinda like our lives sometimes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first read those books, the authors were mentioning some pretty radical ideas. Things like leaving the "rat race" and a major slimming down of your activities(ours and the kids). One of them also, mentioned this group of people called the Bedouins. They are a people that lives and moves in the dessert. Nomads. Everything they own and everything they do can be packed onto a camel and transported&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/CAQ220ZH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/CAQ220ZH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; in no time, flat! Matt developed a love for that type of life. Me on the other hand, I did not develop the same liking. I like my stuff, my house, my security...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, since we moved last summer, I have really started to think in the Nomadic direction. So much stuff that we think we need. No we don't!!!!&lt;br /&gt;We think that we need these "things" to help us be more free...oh contrare! Ditch it! Give it away, sell it, give it up for the more important "things". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in removing somethings from our living room, and stripping down the amount of activities going on in that one space, I learned that God wants me to be in a place in my life that it is simple, room for focus on Him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the tv out, the toys out and cinched together the furniture to make a smaller, more intimate place to gather and talk and relate. We still have the dining room in this space but that makes sense to me. And we can still bring in the laptop to watch movies together, but it is SIMPLIFIED! No, we can't fit it all onto a camel...baby steps! :)&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCF0005.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Anyone up for a garage sale?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114046453100532164?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114046453100532164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114046453100532164&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114046453100532164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114046453100532164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/freedom-of-simplicity.html' title='Freedom of Simplicity'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114030129677090222</id><published>2006-02-18T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T10:27:54.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boundaries</title><content type='html'>When I hear the word "boundaries" I usually think of limits or lines to cross (or not cross). Or I think of setting boundaries with others, how you are willing to let others treat you. Or I think of the boundaries that Matt and I set for the boys as far as their behavior. There are a trillion ways that we keep boundaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to think...here we go!!! Ready or not...I was thinking about boundaries in relation to love. There is a song with a line that says this, "Jesus, your love has no bounds". Why would we need to tell God about His love? He knows all about it. I think that song is for us, meaning those who enter into the love of Christ. To remind us that His love is perfect, unconditional &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/CA2N4XIN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/CA2N4XIN.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;love. His love isn't bound by anything, other than our rejecting Him. I think that song is necessary for us to sing because our human love DOES have boundaries. It is common for someone to say, "I love you unconditionally." That is a bold faced lie! The reality is that humans are incapable of doing that, on their own. We set boundaries like how much we will let someone hurt us. And when they cross over knowingly or not, that is it!...we are done! And sometimes, in dangerous situations, that is correct. But really, we are full of conditions when it comes to loving others. Not letting others in after a certain amount of "violations". How sad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confession time: I...am...human! A human being with major faults! I hurt and dissapoint people all the time. Most importantly, I break God's heart daily(and so do you). I have crossed many borders and people have said to me, "That's it, I am done!" I am just wondering if we (as Christians) should open the borders a little. Learn what forgiveness means, learn what &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; love, through Jesus Christ, is. Hurts or not.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It is a journey that is worth taking! And like any journey there are pitfalls and slip ups...not always clear paths to walk down. Let God carry you through. For the sake of His kingdom come and His will be done on earth as it is in heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114030129677090222?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114030129677090222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114030129677090222&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114030129677090222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114030129677090222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/boundaries.html' title='Boundaries'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114012826786178285</id><published>2006-02-16T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T08:52:34.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No, not like a pan.</title><content type='html'>I had to clean the house today! I have really been lagging this last week, just haven't felt like doing much in the chore area. I hate when I get in those slumps because (as read in the "I think the mom's gone crazy" post) I think I have some sort of illness. Seriously! I have been beating myself up all week for the way the house WAS! Yahoo, it's clean today! Floors done, kitchen done, bathrooms done, bed made and so on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That isn't what I wanted to post on. I wanted to urge all of my "readers" to &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/skillet3[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/skillet3%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;be &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/skillet[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;listeners...listeners of Skillet! No, not like a pan. Skillet, the ultimate in rock bands! All of their albums are AMAZING! I put them on when I started cleaning and whoa...they rock hard core for Jesus!! That's the best part. They are singing unto the Lord in holy moly rock and roll! Check 'em out! My family and I are long time "Panheads". We have all of there cd's downloaded. And have been to many of there concerts! I think Calvin was just a newborn when he went to his first live show. YUP, they rock! Oh, and they have an awesome chick drummer!(the blonde in the pic)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114012826786178285?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114012826786178285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114012826786178285&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114012826786178285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114012826786178285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/no-not-like-pan.html' title='No, not like a pan.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-114003384316633454</id><published>2006-02-15T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T12:04:03.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This post sponsored in part by...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[3].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B3%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate Turtle Chex Mix!!!&lt;br /&gt;Never have I tasted such salty-sweet perfection!&lt;br /&gt;And less fat that regular potato chips.&lt;br /&gt;Mmm..Mmmm...Mmmmmm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(too bad they aren't really sponsoring me)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-114003384316633454?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/114003384316633454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=114003384316633454&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114003384316633454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/114003384316633454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/this-post-sponsored-in-part-by.html' title='This post sponsored in part by...'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113996480897752217</id><published>2006-02-14T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T16:56:50.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it really a change?</title><content type='html'>Something came up today with my "Tuesday Morning Girls". That when we pray it can change God's mind. Just thought I would think about that more...&lt;br /&gt;I tried to picture God hearing a case for something and saying, "Ya know Steph, that isn't a bad idea. I'll do it." Some how that doesn't seem accurate.&lt;br /&gt;++&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[7].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B7%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;So, it is dinner time and Connor asks me, like he does everynight, "What's for dinner?" I started rattling off the menu, "Tonight it's cheeseburgers on a wheat bun, salad and...." "Mac and Cheese!", Connor interupted. Little did he know, that was next on the list. So, I said, "Ya know Connor, that isn't a bad idea. I'll do it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that is what it is like for God and us, too. Maybe when we pray and ask for what's in His perfect will, He says, "Sure!" I don't know....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if my plan for dinner wasn't cheesy macaroni? What if the plan was green beans (for his own good, of course)? Something to really think about, but not essential to understanding. Mystery is sometimes good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113996480897752217?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113996480897752217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113996480897752217&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113996480897752217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113996480897752217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/is-it-really-change.html' title='Is it really a change?'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113986922181719060</id><published>2006-02-13T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T14:35:13.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laundry Day</title><content type='html'>Ready for a deep, inspiring, life altering post? This isn't it. Just a weird though on my mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Lundy household, Monday is laundry day. Every Monday, all of the laundry gets done. Okay, so I am only human...sometimes it leaks over into Tuesday. Anyway, for our family that means at least 6 loads! UGH! &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/DSCF0001.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/DSCF0001.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I am switching the most recent loads from one machine to the other, I realize that there is a ton of lint in our trash box. Literally a ton! What is that all about?! I mean, are all of our clothes just turning into this weird, kinda gross substance, lint. Am I going to open the dryer door to nothing? I was wondering how fast do your clothes transform into lint. Is there some sort of statistic? "From T-shirt to Useless Fuzz". Can we recycle lint...that is a funny word, lint. Can we use it for insulation? Something?! I hate to waste stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lint makes me sneeze.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113986922181719060?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113986922181719060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113986922181719060&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113986922181719060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113986922181719060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/laundry-day.html' title='Laundry Day'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113978168508886173</id><published>2006-02-12T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-12T14:01:25.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Bono!</title><content type='html'>Matt showed me this little snippet in the Discipleship Journal. (a mag he gets) Thought I would share it with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Karma Interrupted&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"At the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye...Along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that...Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news in&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[51].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B51%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;deed...I'd be in big trouble if Karma was going to be my judge. I'm holding out for Grace. I'm holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the cross."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Bono, lead singer of U2, quoted in &lt;em&gt;World&lt;/em&gt;, August 6, 2005&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have to say about that is...three cheers for Bono!! Hip, Hip...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113978168508886173?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113978168508886173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113978168508886173&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113978168508886173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113978168508886173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/go-bono.html' title='Go Bono!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113951641285507719</id><published>2006-02-09T11:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T12:28:47.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What are we doin' Mama?</title><content type='html'>Calvin and I took a walk on the beach today. What a wonderful time we had. The lazy waves were crashing very gently and the sun beaming on us without a cloud in sight. For a while Calvin ran ahead stopping to throw big rocks into the sea, looking back to see if I was coming. Then we walked slow together looking for shells, my son asking "What are you doin' mama?" Me answering, "We are looking fo&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/satbeach%20007.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/satbeach%20007.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;r shells, honey." We came to a pile of wood, mostly skinny sticks, but there was one big stump. We sat watching waves and talking about what we were doin'. On the way back down the beach we held hands making foot prints in the wet sand, all the while my youngest son looking up at me with sweet eyes saying, "What are we doin' mama?" And me answering with our plan. Isn't that how God is? Always here watching us as we stop to throw big rocks, or sitting with us on the stump and always answering our question, "What are we doin'?" I think that is what he wants from us. To continually &lt;strong&gt;be&lt;/strong&gt; with Him. Contiually look back for Him. Look to Him for the answers to our questions. Rest in Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113951641285507719?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113951641285507719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113951641285507719&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113951641285507719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113951641285507719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/what-are-we-doin-mama.html' title='What are we doin&apos; Mama?'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113935448031053190</id><published>2006-02-07T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T07:52:54.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Heaven" is knock, knock, knocking on your door.</title><content type='html'>There is this idea in our society that heaven is some goal to achieve or some prize to win. I personally have been mulling this idea over and find it rather annoying. The whole idea that "if I fight the good fight and run the good race" I will go there when I die. That is, to me, consumer Christianity. Meaning,'' what's in it for me?'' ''We don't want to waste our time or energy if we aren't even going to get anything out of it''. Right? ...WRONG! No way!!! We need to have a shift. Our lives are to be lived in Christ. IN Him. Not towards Him. Not around Him. In Him. Constant connection, in the very core of our being, our soul. The very air we breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Adam and Eve fell, the human spirit was broken. But for all who accept him, our &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[84].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B84%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;spirits were restored when Jesus Christ was crucified and then ascended into heaven to sit a the right hand of the Father. My broken, ugly, detestable sin nature was provided a way to be back in right relationship with my Father! Made clean. Nothing that I did or ever will do can accomplish that! There is no amount of trying to be righteous or holy that is going to put my spirit in tune with God's. I can't do that! Human beings can't&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; be &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;holy&lt;em&gt;! &lt;/em&gt;God makes me holy. Jesus Christ makes me righteous in God's eyes. The Holy Spirit guides my path. I do need to open the door. Choose to be led. Choose to be still and know the He is God. Choose to listen to His voice and obey His commands. All of this, though, is built on knowing Him. Walking, talking, and living in Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just scratching the surface myself. God is giving me an abundance of understanding and cleaning out my mind and heart. He is helping me to see how simple it really is. Not&lt;em&gt; easy&lt;/em&gt;, but without clutter and noise. He is stripping away all of the layers of junk that I thought were necessary. The only thing that I see now is Him. That is heaven to me, being in the presence of the Lord. In all of His glory and perfection. That is my prayer for all of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113935448031053190?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113935448031053190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113935448031053190&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113935448031053190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113935448031053190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/heaven-is-knock-knock-knocking-on-your.html' title='&quot;Heaven&quot; is knock, knock, knocking on your door.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113932748326031619</id><published>2006-02-07T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T14:27:00.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now that it's not, it is.</title><content type='html'>I just came to this epiphany last night! After all this time with God, I am only just know understanding who He is. His essence, character. I used to say to myself, "I don't feel any different." after giving my life to God. I would certainly never admit &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/peace[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/peace%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that out loud, what would people think!? I thought that everything would change for me as soon as my surrender prayer was sent up. Sure, a lot of big things changed like smoking or drinking. But what about my spirit? I am still very broken. God showed me a while ago that there aren't different parts of you that you should treat differently. Such as "my work life", "my marriage", or "my parenting life". He was trying to get it through to me that all of these lives stem from one spirit. I needed to be the same me in all of my "lives". But more than that!!! I need to allow my spirit to be healed and then be led by His Spirit. All that I do, say, feel, all that I am! It has been years since I started to search for the feelings, and now that I understand God a little more, he is filling me with so much joy, happiness, and peace that surpasses all understanding. Now that it isn't about searching for the "feelings" He is giving me all that I ever wanted to feel. Amazing to me!! Just amazing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113932748326031619?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113932748326031619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113932748326031619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113932748326031619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113932748326031619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/now-that-its-not-it-is.html' title='Now that it&apos;s not, it is.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113893146594717611</id><published>2006-02-02T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T07:29:56.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BFF</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[13].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B13%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There is this thing that we go through (mostly girls) in elementary school and up. We attach to our best friends. I remember getting those "best friends forever" charms and thinking that was it! Now, we will never part! Now, we will be friends forever. What is a best friend? What is a friend, even? Sometimes it is the person who has known us the longest. And if you are lucky enough to keep in contact with that person for your whole life, maybe it is. But for me, the girls that I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; thought were going to be with me forever aren't. Time and life has gone by, we have taken different roads. Yeah, we contact and say "hey, how are you ?"randomly. But those friends don't know me as I am now. Whole, sober, and loving my God. I think that the Lord has put different types of women in my life at different times &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/garton-family2[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;to spur&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/5[1].0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/5%5B1%5D.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; me on and teach me things. But as for a "B.F.F." I have Stacy. I was thinking about this because I was really missing her! We live a country apart and although we don't see eachother, we are with eachother everyday! I think of her and what she means to me, everyday. We talk on the phone as often as we can. For years I prayed for someone (a friend, mentor, "sister") to come into my life and God gave me Stacy. She knows my crap, and still loves me. I know her crap, and still love her. We have shared in a ton of joyous celebrations as well as horrible pains. Stacy Garton is my 'best ever friend'! &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/5[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113893146594717611?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113893146594717611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113893146594717611&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113893146594717611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113893146594717611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/02/bff.html' title='BFF'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113872717135386158</id><published>2006-01-31T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T21:06:50.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Future Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/fourfuturemen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/fourfuturemen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have in our home four future men. Our sons. Each of them well on their way to becoming men. So, that means that Matt and I are responsible for making sure that they are guided and taught how. Whoa! That is a huge revelation. Sometimes, I think in my eyes, they are still babies. When they were first born they needed us for EVERYTHING! Food, clean diapers, cuddles, hugs and so much more. Now that they are getting big physically and are growing in independence, our tendency is to think that they don't need as much. NOT TRUE! We are finding that they need us now more than ever. They still need me to make sure they are eating enough fruits and veggies, they still need Matt to read them stories or listen to &lt;em&gt;them&lt;/em&gt; read stories, they still need to be hugged on every chance we get, and they need to see that their parents still love eachother! Most of all, I think they just need us around. For the daily life that they are learning to live.  I want to make sure that we don't lose sight of the fact that they will always need mom and dad just as they need to breathe. If the next ten years go by even half as fast as the last ten, I don't want to waste a minute of it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113872717135386158?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113872717135386158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113872717135386158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113872717135386158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113872717135386158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/four-future-men.html' title='Four Future Men'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113851554736139324</id><published>2006-01-28T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T10:59:31.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>David.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/christmashouse%20085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/christmashouse%20085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So, for the last three months David has been living with us. (seen to the left at the end of a very long Disney day). We have really enjoyed having him here! Most of his time here was spent "working" at the smoothie joint in Carp. (getting all the sweet hook ups) or hanging out with the boys enjoying California adventures. Just have to say, David is one of the most kind- hearted, well mannered, responsible, thoughtful people we know. When you are a single guy, and don't have too much on your plate, moving in with your brother and his wife and 4 sons sounds mad!!!!! But good ol' Dave took it all in stride. He dove in and became a &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;real&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; part of our family. Not sure what we are going to do without him. I don't know what he will do without Cameron stuck to his leg! You see, David is going to Africa for two years! Check out his blog on the "David" link. You'll see what's up. We love you David!! And we will &lt;strong&gt;see you later!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113851554736139324?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113851554736139324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113851554736139324&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113851554736139324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113851554736139324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/david.html' title='David.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113839730727519476</id><published>2006-01-27T12:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T16:00:26.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All you need is love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[80].2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B80%5D.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have been stewing on this commonly used phrase. "All you need is love." (-Lennon/McCartney) What does that even mean? Maybe it means if I love people everything will be fine. Or that if people love me everything will be fine. What happens when there is reciprocal love and something still goes awry? Do we blame the "love" or maybe we weren't doing it right or others are to blame. That sure is a lot of pressure for a broken human being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what came out of my thinking cap...&lt;strong&gt;God is love.&lt;/strong&gt; There is no amount of trying to love people, or the other way around, that is going to fill the hole in my soul. People are &lt;strong&gt;alw&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[73].2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/images%5B73%5D.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ays&lt;/strong&gt; going to let me down, and for cryin' out loud I am surely going to let others down. There is only one way to deal with this world. The hope that Jesus Christ is Lord, came to this earth to blaze a gnarly trail and provide a way for me to come to God the Father...that is Love. Notice that he didn't and never will let us down. So, really, &lt;em&gt;all you need is God&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113839730727519476?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113839730727519476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113839730727519476&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113839730727519476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113839730727519476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/all-you-need-is-love.html' title='All you need is love?'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113823287753357272</id><published>2006-01-25T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T14:02:21.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>holy doormat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/dr-doormat[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/dr-doormat%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I seem to find myself in the middle of odd situations with people. No, not just recently, &lt;strong&gt;all&lt;/strong&gt; of the time! The kind of situations that you have to take 10 minutes to give back ground on before you can even begin to ask someone to pray for you. It is like I am a magnet for utterly broken people. I mean, people that just aren't playing with a full deck. People that are down on there luck. People that can't catch a break...people just...like me. What does God want me to do with all of this? I mean it is&lt;em&gt; hard&lt;/em&gt;! Hard always having the stress of finances, or relationship, or non-relationship. There are all of these games that we seemingly have to play because, "what would it look like if..." There are all of these questions that we face. And then there is the, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;play it all out in your mind as if you can tell what the other person (or people) are going to say, or do, or feel.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; It just can't go on this way. Surely, this wasn't the plan of creation. Can't we acheive some sort of unity? Can't we just get beyond ourselves and live...for the greater good? Why do we always have to win or be right or teach someone a lesson? Can't we all serve? &lt;em&gt;Be the 'doormat'? &lt;/em&gt;What damage does it cause? What good does it acheive?! Stop trying &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; to be taken advantage of...and let God take care of that. He is the One and only who will bring justice. We aren't going to FIX anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113823287753357272?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113823287753357272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113823287753357272&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113823287753357272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113823287753357272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/holy-doormat.html' title='holy doormat!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113813913293060781</id><published>2006-01-24T13:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T14:05:00.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think the Mom's gone crazy!</title><content type='html'>Here's the deal. Last night after watching "Spongebob: The Movie" with the boys, I thought, since I was so tired that I should just go to bed. Matt had already made the coffee and put most of the dishes in the dishwasher so why not?! I was exhausted and it was already 9pm. So, going against my better judgment I turned off all of the lights, made sure the front door was locked, and headed to bed. Not a normal(??) evening for me. I didn't "close up shop" like I usually do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just give you a little back ground so you understand the craziness. It used to be that I could just do that, go to bed with out making sure everything was in it's place. But since this summer, I have become some &lt;em&gt;other&lt;/em&gt; woman! I am completely obsessed with the order of my home! I can't just leave stuff out. Not just that though, &lt;strong&gt;everything&lt;/strong&gt; must be in it's place. Including the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/images[6].jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/landfill%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last night when I went to bed. I fell asleep fine and began having horrible dreams! I won't go into it but...they were bad! And I woke up feeling as if my house was in shambles!(hence, the landfill illustration) It felt so out of control. Some thoughts racing through my mind were "How are the kids going to be able to eat breakfast?" "How am I going to be able to get my 'morning' done?" Blah, blah, blah...you get the idea. I went straight to the kitchen and got "things" started. Well, the morning went fine, no one starved or even noticed that things weren't in normal order. Just me. Am I going out of my mind? Don't answer that. I feel like I am in danger of becoming a modern day "Martha" (no not Stewart.) Luke10:38-41. Look it up you will see what I mean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113813913293060781?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113813913293060781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113813913293060781&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113813913293060781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113813913293060781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-think-moms-gone-crazy.html' title='I think the Mom&apos;s gone crazy!'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113806004915269946</id><published>2006-01-23T15:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T17:30:49.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Picture%20025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Picture%20025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Matt. I have been married to this man for a little over 10 years. Lived everyday with him. One would think that after that long I would know everything about him. The truth is, we are just now getting beyond our inhibitions and getting to know eachother, &lt;strong&gt;for real&lt;/strong&gt;. Why do we do that? Why do we, as human beings, hold on to this idea that we can't let anyone know the "&lt;em&gt;real me"? &lt;/em&gt;Is it because we think that others will reject us? Is it because we don't even like the &lt;em&gt;secret us? &lt;/em&gt;This is something worth thinking about...if we don't like a certain part of ourselves, maybe we should cut it out. If you don't want people to know something about you, maybe you should eliminate that "something". On the other hand, maybe we should just tell it like it is and expose ourselves for what and who we really are. Deal, and move on. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/scan.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/scan.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Picture%20026.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't easy! It is an everyday choice. Let me tell you though, anytime that Matt and I have let down a "wall" or shown our vulnerable side, we fall deeper in love with eachother. Becoming more...one. Spurring eachother on to be more of our true selves, more real, more like Christ. More like...God intended. &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/scan.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/scan.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113806004915269946?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113806004915269946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113806004915269946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113806004915269946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113806004915269946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-man.html' title='My Man'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113797389153828182</id><published>2006-01-22T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T18:45:20.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New do,more me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/christmashouse%20053.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/christmashouse%20053.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Before...&lt;br /&gt;After!&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/stephnewdo%20006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/stephnewdo%20006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I get this new haircut (thanks Dave). I am not one to be shy with my hair. I like to go extreme. Anyone who knows me probably never saw my hair in it's natural state. (with the exclusion of my husband and parents) There is usually strange color, highlights, tons of product and some unusual style. I don't like main stream, "Jennifer Aniston", everyone has it style! When we moved to SoCal this summer, budget was a little tight. No money, haircut somehow doesn't seem priority. So, when I got this salon package for Christmas I could hardly contain myself! A little obsessed, I started dreaming of what was next in the hair portfolio for me. I was thinking about it everyday all day, as I put my "old hair" into a ponytail! Yes a ponytail! I had somewhere along the line lost my hair identity. Something happens to me when I get a new style. I feel more like myself. Maybe it is that I look more how I feel. I love to go against the "Conservative Christian" grain! That is why I pierced my nose. I felt free! The real me can come out. I am not the lacey collar, flowery dress wearing kinda Christian. I like to cause people to think,"Well, maybe God wants &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; too." "Maybe, I just come &lt;em&gt;as I am&lt;/em&gt; to the Lord." "Maybe, Jesus isn't &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; for the suit wearing, got it all together people." No one really &lt;em&gt;has it all together&lt;/em&gt;! Not even the suit wearers. We all sin and fall short of the Glory of God. No matter what we look like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113797389153828182?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113797389153828182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113797389153828182&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113797389153828182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113797389153828182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/new-domore-me.html' title='New do,more me.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113779654709343475</id><published>2006-01-20T14:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T16:21:42.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a funny thing...time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/j0401165.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/j0401165.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans". I have heard this saying from my dad pretty much my whole life. It came from John Lennon in a song called "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)". I never stopped to think about what it meant. But now that I am older and have my own children. I get it! In this world, time happens. There is no way around it. If you unplug your clock, time still goes on. The sun rises and sets, with or without you. What are you doing with your time? Are you taking advantage of your timeline? What is your legacy? God is outside of time. He just&lt;em&gt; is&lt;/em&gt;. And someday, some of us will be with Him enjoying the absense of deadlines and alarm clocks. But for now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113779654709343475?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113779654709343475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113779654709343475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113779654709343475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113779654709343475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/it-is-funny-thingtime.html' title='It is a funny thing...time.'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113773224513608429</id><published>2006-01-19T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T20:44:05.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Desserts 'R Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/chocolatehazelnuttorte06%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/chocolatehazelnuttorte06%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ahhh... the Chocoalte Hazelnut Torte.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just taking "stuff" in the kitchen, putting it together with measurements and techniques. This is what you can achieve. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For a minute think about creation. God created the world and everything in it. Incuding you and me. So, complex and perfect. What??? How awesome is HE! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113773224513608429?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113773224513608429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113773224513608429&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113773224513608429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113773224513608429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/desserts-r-me.html' title='Desserts &apos;R Me'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21159678.post-113760315919810131</id><published>2006-01-18T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T13:51:52.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Glimpses in the sand"</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;"There is but one moment in time that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;this footprint will remain the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ever changing, ever teaching me&lt;/em&gt;." &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-&lt;em&gt;SL&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beach%20002.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Beach%20002.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"Every grain counted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Where does it come from,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Where is it going to?" -&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;SL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beach%20004.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Beach%20004.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"On the edge of our land the waves are commanded."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;SL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beach%20007.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/320/Beach%20007.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Time to get a grip.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21159678-113760315919810131?l=stephimages.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/feeds/113760315919810131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21159678&amp;postID=113760315919810131&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113760315919810131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21159678/posts/default/113760315919810131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephimages.blogspot.com/2006/01/glimpses-in-sand.html' title='&quot;Glimpses in the sand&quot;'/><author><name>Me &amp;amp; Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05591581695009891354</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1392/1906/1600/Beachday%20gator.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
