Ice Blocking

Ice-blocking with students! 

Marshal would beg, "Again, Mama? Daddy, again?"

 

 

Done waiting, he decided to have a go at it on his own.

Almost....

But didn't quite get as far as he'd hoped.

The remnant? A cold bootie.

Ten Things You Might Not Know

Ten Things You Might Not Know
(Inspired by this post.)
As with all "Ten Things" posts: random, possibly bizarre, and in no particular order.

1.) I have a funny bruise-looking-thing on my righty EYEBALL.  Yes I said righty on purpose, see number 3.

2.) I bite my fingernails.  It's gross.  I am always telling myself I'm done with that (first grade) stage in my life.  Then I look down and all my nails are gone again.  Darn.

3.)  I am addicted to editing.  Everywhere I go I see typos.  If you have a problem with apostrophes it's hard for me to take you seriously. Sorry.

4.) I absolutely ABHOR when someone waves me through at a four-way stop.  You're not being nice, you're being bossy.  And you were there TWENTY YEARS before me.

5.) We have a friend who compulsively and accidentally swallows his gum. AND THIS MAKES ME LAUGH SO HARD. He shall remain nameless... but it rhymes with Smell Fasters. If you only knew how hard I'm cracking myself up right now.

6.) Epidural is my favorite word.  I acutely remember the Nurse Anesthetist that gave me my first epidural. See this post for the REST of the story... but in short he was GI Joe in  blue scrubs, a REAL American hero, lol.  I actually think I asked him to be my best friend... I was high on stadol.  He said no.  (Just joking. Maybe.)   

7.) I am a bee whisperer.  I've never been stung.  Don't laugh.  Have you ever been stung by a bee? Of course you have! Because you're not a bee whisperer.

8.) I was Miss Arizona.  There were only like 3 competitors.... and there was no pageant... but hey, a title is a title.

9.) I don't like touching feet or feet touching me.

10.) I was stung (or attacked, however you'd like to look at it) by a scorpion in my own closet.  He was a mini-skeleton-crab, jumping around like a boxer in a ring.  Just waiting. WAITING for me to walk by and then WHAM!!! - sliced my ankle like a razor blade.  Jerk. I guess I'm not a scorpion whisperer.

Things I Love

Things I Love
(Post inspired by Angie's post.)

I love my swiffer sweeper.  I love pedicures.  I love Starbucks iced white chocolate mochas.  I love Jesus.  I love nap-time (my boys' and my own).  I love the park.  I love family golf.  I love being pregnant.  I love caring for people other people don't care for.  I love being Mrs. Jalon Peters.  I love hearing Marshal sing.  I love little boys with good manners.  I love the lines my vacuum makes in the carpet.  I love missions.  I love painted walls.  I love my minivan (never would have guessed). I love forgiveness. I love going grocery shopping without my children.  I love going to the movies.  I love being a stay-at-home mom.  I love working when and if I want.  I love giving presents.  I love facebook. I love almond roca candy. I love the way God works things out.  I love when a new recipe turns out amazing the FIRST time I make it. I love clothes.  I love looking at old pictures.  I love to stay in nice, affordable hotels.  I love teenagers.  I love making baby food. I love the peace of God.  I love mentoring girls.  I love gadgets.  I love good-night kisses.  I love Coach.  I love garage sales.  I love that God cares about every detail of my life.  I love a good book.  I love black-gooey ballpoint pens. I love friends that are like sisters.  I love a clean sink.  I love journals.  I love the call of God.  I love my phone.  I love Eirberto's egg, cheese, potato, bacon, and avocado breakfast burritos. I love blogging.  I love making a difference.  I love choir.  I love piano.  I love thrift stores.  I love learning something new.  I love being married.  I love home.  I love going out to eat, especially for breakfast.  I love my life.  I love accomplishing goals.  I love making a difference.  I love taking notes.  I love living within my means.  I love Glen Beck.  I love pastor's wives.  I love the way towels look when they're crisply folded and stacked.  I love vacation.  I love making curtains.  I love getting out of debt (I copied you on that one, Angie). I love my baby M's.  I love seeing relationships reconciled.  I love conversation with old friends.  I love getting presents. I love Target.  I love red.  I love Cottonwood.  I love my husband's chin.  I love how no one makes Mason happy quite like Mama.  I love surprises.  I love the zoo.  I love you if you actually read all of this. :)

What Really Matters

Before you read on...
Just for fun, fill in the blank:
"I am a ___________."


Lately I've been pondering what really matters in life.  Often it seems the things that matter to me are also the things by which I define myself. These "identities" tend to bring me security. For example, if my job really matters to me; it is easy then to define myself by that job -  say I'm a business owner - this can become my identity, and this identity can bring a sense of security.

Fill in the blank however appropriate... job, role, talent, etc.

But I wonder, are these the things that really matter in life? Should these things, however noble, be what define me? Are these places safe to invest my hope of security? I'm beginning to think otherwise.

Who I am is actually unrelated to what I do. This is logical. What if I could no longer do the things that bring me security? I would by no means cease to be.  With the example above, in reality I would own a business - but  that would not be who I am, that would be what I do for a profession. My business could be stripped from me for many reasons and that would in no way effect my identity, unless I had placed my identity in that profession.

So this being said, I want to be intentional about who I am.
I do not want to place my identity in what I do.
Likewise I won't lose security when I fail.   
I want there to be fruit produced in my life that is reflective of this identity.

I do not want to place my security in position, possession, performance, perfection, or prestige.

I want my actions NOT to be driven by a need for validation, acceptance, or appreciation.
I want my actions to be a simple by-product of the work that God is doing in me.

I am a child of God.
He loves me beyond my understanding.
Jesus brings me security.
I have been shown much mercy, so I want be quick to forgive.
I want to extend grace.
I want to be humble.
I want to prefer and value others.
This is what really matters.


Some further reading:
Rachel Barkey's Story
Luke 12:34

There is a Fountain Filled with Marshal

 

 

 

 

 

 

October 30, 2009

Photos Courtesy of Janet Hail

Chubby Face Courtesy of Pregnancy

 

Mason's First Tooth Cut Yesterday!!!!

Brother! Gimme some of your food! I cut a tooth!!!

Who needs a pool... or even a couch!

Marshal is loving the pool! He has absolutely no concept that he could drown... which makes for a stressful past-time.  His new favorite thing is jumping into the pool from the edge, and you'd better be ready because, ready or not - here he comes!

Well lately he's been jumping off the coffee table onto our couch, much like he does into the pool.  One afternoon (with daddy, btw) he decided he should try jumping BACKWARDS off the coffee table onto the couch.  He would line his little toes up on the edge, ankles hanging over the eighteen inch abyss and launch himself onto the microfiber plush.  Apparently he had done this successfully multiple times.  Well, when I got home Marsh was over-excited to show me his new trick.  And in his hurried haste he didn't realize he had lined himself up on the wrong edge of the coffee table - one WITHOUT the couch.  And by the time I could half utter - "Jay, what is he..." Marshal launched himself backwards onto the floor.  Ha! At least it was carpet?

Most Expensive Date Night EVER!

A date night sounds like a good idea, right? Fun, relaxing.
A double date with great friends? Even better!
A cute, clean, romantic comedy - perfect! 
Wonderful babysitter.  Happy children.

Fun driving-home conversation and laughs. But wait, what is this? Where is our babysitter's car?  Uh-oh.  Not good.  Not good at all.  Apparently they weren't kidding when they posted those signs about not parking on the street.  Even in front of your own house.  Even your sweet babysitter while you're at the movies.

$190 later her car was back.  Street scoundrels! You should be ashamed of yourself!  Lurking around looking for innocent new neighbors who don't fully understand the rules... and... who, uh... can't read the posted signs...

Snacks!

Little Buddy loves snacks just like Mama.

So Valuable to Me

I'm sure I've mentioned this before, probably multiple times.  But today warrants another comment.  I have a disclaimer this time.  I know that staying home is impossible for some parents, and I know that most kids grow up unaffected by daycare. However, being able to be at home, or have my boys' daddy at home, is SO valuable to me. I don't want to just raise my kids on evenings and weekends.  I'm thankful that I know when my boys need naps and how they like to go to sleep.  I'm thankful that I don't miss first words, or first steps.  I'm thankful that I get to teach Marshal his ABCs and hear him pray over his lunch.  I'm thankful that Mason likes to be held, and I'm the one who holds him.  The time I have with them is beyond valuable, and trumps so many of life's "demands" that many others prioritize.  It's difficult, yes.  I want to pull my hair out some days, yes.  I'm overwhelmed and very tired, yes, yes. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Lips

LIPS:
Big.
Kissable.
Sweet, wanting-mama-because-I-got-shots-today lips.
And so I hold him.
And I kiss him.
And kiss him some more.
My sweetheart baby.
With the HUGE lips.

Close your eyes!

Since his birthday, Marshal has been transitioned to his bigboybed. So his bedtime ritual has changed a bit.  Now we read and pray and snuggle in his bed. He'll say "snuggggle?" and press his cheek against ours, no matter how hot and sweaty the day is.  Lately he loves snuggling so much that he's awake even after mama and daddy have fallen asleep.  Yesterday, trying to be stern (well as stern as we could muster), Daddy said, "Marshal, close your eyes."  

And without wasting a second he reached up with his pointer finger and pushed his eyelid closed. 

Growing UP!

a
Look at our big boy! Sitting up, crawling, and now pulling himself up on furniture! My big Blue! Love you!