tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39071729181608420352024-03-12T21:57:49.346-07:00This Cozy HomeCarriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-87480275111628837242011-04-21T15:04:00.000-07:002011-04-21T15:04:31.680-07:00Five Conversations You MUST Have With Your DaughterI just finished reading a wonderful book about moms and daughters! If ever there was a book that made me want to be a better mom who is more secure in her own skin, it's this one. If I've ever read a book that makes me want to de-bunk all the "bunk" my daughter is going to see and hear and be prepared for the trials that my daughter is going to endure living in a fallen world, it's this one. All the things I am concerned for on my daughter's behalf is in this book. I appreciated the author's candor, her ability to admit that she doesn't have all the answers, and her humility in confessing her short-comings.<br />
<br />
What this book doesn't say is that there is <i>one</i> way and it's the only <i>right</i> way to raise your daughter and it's in <i>her</i> book. It doesn't say that if you do "a+b+c" that you will always end up with "d." It doesn't come across preachy or condescending. <br />
<br />
What it does say is that in all our failings, there is a God who is greater. That with all the negative statistics, there is hope. That the world lies to our daughters (even more than it lied to us) and that there is Biblical wisdom that combats those lies. That your daughter is more than the sum of her parts. That sex outside of marriage IS detrimental to the whole of you...emotionally and physically. That, as our daughter's moms, our opinions DO matter to them. That God did give us years to grow up for a reason! Don't rush it! (And how you can protect your daughter against the "I'm five going on fifteen" mentality and appearance.) That dreaming and desiring to be a wife and a mom is a good, Godly dream! And that it's easy to be "easy" but hard to be virtuous (but there are still kids who are doing this!)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNGsrAhmXPkXH8Va3FGy2vEXvaxSAGrSkodtIlmSWAV08d0kern8ojLzvaFP8pQ3KIyvKrljtzsZh9FeFPUBgBio95CjHK4tJ9WEIp3guFb_FbOfjy07rqfKdDWkLVLi47rnWZrDS5XswU/s1600/five+conversations.jpg" /></div>(You can't really look inside this book from here...but I snagged the picture from Amazon and you CAN look inside it there!)<br />
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I know, for me, I have to constantly check myself. Am I showing my daughter what a good mom does? Am I being a good example of grace and mercy? Am I lovingly disciplining or being angry? Do I protect her from too much (because yes, it's possible!) or am I allowing her to experience age-appropriate mishaps for learning and reproof? Do I love her enough to change the stuff I don't like about myself so that she doesn't have the same "stuff" to deal with? Do I love and appreciate the person that God made me, inside and out, so that when my daughter is my age, she has a better love and appreciation for how God made her, inside and out?<br />
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Do I take every opportunity I can to make it a teachable moment? Even things that I don't necessarily want my daughter know...she's going to find out. I try to teach my kids things before the world does. I've found with many things...whether it's truth of the Lord or something like Santa Claus, if I get to them first with the information, I've won the first battle. Do I do a good job of that? I bet I could do a better job.<br />
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Yes, there are statistics. And some are staggering. Some, I knew. Some, I didn't. All point to the fact that God's truth <i>is</i> truth and that His plans and designs for our daughters and their lives are more promising than anything the world has to offer. <br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Thanks, Brooke! This was a great read for me! I owe ya! :)</span>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-18328904031700395492011-04-19T10:22:00.000-07:002011-04-19T10:22:54.450-07:00I'm redecorating....kind of....So...it's been creeping up on us for a while. We've seen the signs, but it's hard to comprehend it until it breaks out in brawls. We have six people in our house. While four are "little" people, they will not be so little forever. We have a couch and two chairs in our living room. One is pretty much not operational during tv time because you can't see the tv from it. Minor technicality. The couch seats the four kids <i>uncomfortably.</i> I had taken to sitting on the floor with Isaac. Nic would have Hannah on his lap and the two bigger boys with him on the couch. It was awkward for family nights. Did I mention we have tile floors? Not so fun to sit on for two hours during a movie.<br />
<br />
So...buying a new couch was creeping up on us. Buying one soon stopped creeping and starting jumping in front of us as important when they starting fighting over someone's elbow in a side, feet kicking legs, and stealing pillows. *Sigh* Can't they just stay little?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">New Couch...here we come....I looked. I looked a lot. I checked out Ikea. Had to be a sectional. Good sectional colors...I fainted over the red one. And had my heart set on it. For <i>months.</i> It was cheap. It was a cover so I could take it off and wash it. I could <i>change</i> the color if I wanted to.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflrdrimb8ac_CPY74uxZtFvzlKKNJLwnHFwlhxDSp1f2Ldl7y8_9SMKUs360VXYpExpMNX4WSjk2cc6jzvrl1L2VPi_hXb2Gp-ToQPI45uySHu-uuU0CmY-M96zn76_sK1hP-UoWjzyZS/s1600/ektorp-corner-sofa--red__0096943_PE237105_S4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflrdrimb8ac_CPY74uxZtFvzlKKNJLwnHFwlhxDSp1f2Ldl7y8_9SMKUs360VXYpExpMNX4WSjk2cc6jzvrl1L2VPi_hXb2Gp-ToQPI45uySHu-uuU0CmY-M96zn76_sK1hP-UoWjzyZS/s320/ektorp-corner-sofa--red__0096943_PE237105_S4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
*Sigh* It was not meant to be. Thank the Lord for the $300.00 delivery fee that stayed my hand on the check out button!!! I saw a sectional that was comparable in size and realized that in five years, we would be having the same problem we have now: <br />
<br />
Six people (four are now bigger...hopefully I am NOT one of them!) and no room to sit.<br />
<br />
Off to the furniture store I went. With Brooke. 'Cause the boys were home with the kids. <i>That's just how we roll.</i><br />
<br />
And I fell in love. With something completely different than I was expecting. It means I have to readjust the vision in my head to fit the cozy <i>feeling</i> I want to have with our family instead.<br />
<br />
It means that the mantel I created is going to house a tv above it instead of a picture. It means that we are going to have a much bigger tv than I ever thought we would (thanks to a very generous couple that we love in our young married's class). It means that my husband is through the roof excited that what HE wanted for the living room is what he's getting. And I'm excited because this means I get to redecorate. PROJECTS!<br />
<br />
So...here it is...sort of....our MASSIVE couch that our whole family will get to sit on for at least a decade (hopefully, two decades!).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We bought this (but in a lighter tan-ish color):<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqreUIeoC8uW0Wppb5BXL0H6Cq0of_YRPbb7RBlirKqH4ee9XVxBeisPHEhaMcj2A1l4LML_EEYq7J3DzZ6UBj8eYzxuzDFfljIsNLXSLMIcJqCf_nA4OLT-zuiG7tqxBgtlh3sToGeOpt/s1600/couch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqreUIeoC8uW0Wppb5BXL0H6Cq0of_YRPbb7RBlirKqH4ee9XVxBeisPHEhaMcj2A1l4LML_EEYq7J3DzZ6UBj8eYzxuzDFfljIsNLXSLMIcJqCf_nA4OLT-zuiG7tqxBgtlh3sToGeOpt/s400/couch.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> The picture just doesn't explain how big this couch is. Seriously. Two walls of our living room and the chaise sticking out to kind of separate the breakfast nook from the family room...gone. And now...that means our tv armoire has to go. I have taken one for the family team and opted for a bigger couch that will seat us all comfortably, even when the boys are six feet tall...provided they don't try to lay their big, dirty, stinky bodies on my couch (because aren't all boys big, dirty, and stinky?). That, together with the chocolate chip oatmeal bake they had for breakfast this morning should score me enough Mommy points to last me for a while. Like...their whole lives!<br />
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And what used to be in our family room...will now be in our living room. More room for Monday night Bible Study! YAY!!!! It's a win-win, I know!Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-90125054461402810472011-02-14T16:37:00.000-08:002011-02-14T16:37:12.508-08:00Cake Balls and Sugar Cookie Smoore's!Everybody's askin'....so here you go!<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Cake Balls</b><br />
This recipe is from Paula Dean (no wonder it tastes so good!)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLNEZlZsJuZ4ZakXFmsYoZR4IrDi2Qt_PHi26VWf8YakMx9z0FrDfDqtlC-pbQ2LBW3K1evUpduFcwfu-l3wLNuJPDig9A_MqI_xN2l6o1ibNsV1cGa1k4w29kbObim1fmvql8KH1aElK/s1600/IMG_4586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLNEZlZsJuZ4ZakXFmsYoZR4IrDi2Qt_PHi26VWf8YakMx9z0FrDfDqtlC-pbQ2LBW3K1evUpduFcwfu-l3wLNuJPDig9A_MqI_xN2l6o1ibNsV1cGa1k4w29kbObim1fmvql8KH1aElK/s320/IMG_4586.JPG" width="240" /></a> <br />
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1 cake mix, baked as directed<br />
1 can of frosting<br />
2 cups of chocolate chips (I always need more)<br />
2 TB shortening<br />
<br />
While the cake is still warm, but not hot, crumble it up in a large bowl. Dump in one full container of store bought frosting in with the cake and stir. Refrigerate for at least one hour.<br />
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When cake mixture is cold, roll it into walnut sized balls. Place on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper and freeze for at least two hours. (I have taken the balls out in this form two weeks later(!), coated them in melted chocolate and they still tasted great. Just put them in a ziploc and they should keep for a couple months).<br />
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Take two cups of semi-sweet chocolate chips and two tablespoons of shortening and melt in the microwave in thirty second intervals until chocolate is completely melted.<br />
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Dip the frozen balls into the melted chocolate and place back on parchment paper. Refreeze for at least one hour before serving.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
<br />
I like to get creative with my cake mixes. I'll use cherry chip with chocolate frosting and chocolate chips. Or dark chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and white chocolate chips. I'll make a spice cake with pumpkin and then coat with chocolate, etc. Use your favorite cake/frosting/chocolate chip combo! <br />
I also only use 3/4 of the frosting because I think they taste better with less. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLNEZlZsJuZ4ZakXFmsYoZR4IrDi2Qt_PHi26VWf8YakMx9z0FrDfDqtlC-pbQ2LBW3K1evUpduFcwfu-l3wLNuJPDig9A_MqI_xN2l6o1ibNsV1cGa1k4w29kbObim1fmvql8KH1aElK/s1600/IMG_4586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><br />
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<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Sugar Cookie Smoore's</b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxi3J_yz94c2uRFKkrp42OVJciDXHCAQ3JnQL_-X8andhbJFC4Dg8h3l4qFbvtMoCXSoX7FSSVH_0Gm_3NEXqct2j3Yd9d1pfuk6ls-66aiWpnrIGtEaBiVnXf8jlM2Pnhhwi9MPeVhFv/s1600/IMG_4588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxi3J_yz94c2uRFKkrp42OVJciDXHCAQ3JnQL_-X8andhbJFC4Dg8h3l4qFbvtMoCXSoX7FSSVH_0Gm_3NEXqct2j3Yd9d1pfuk6ls-66aiWpnrIGtEaBiVnXf8jlM2Pnhhwi9MPeVhFv/s320/IMG_4588.JPG" width="320" /></a><b> </b><br />
<br />
1 package store bought sugar cookie dough<br />
marshmallow creme or large marshmallows<br />
Nutella<br />
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Bake the sugar cookies as directed. I form mine into balls and then smash them with the palm of my hand.<br />
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Once the cookies are cooled, spread Nutella on one and marshmallow creme on the other and then sandwich them together.<br />
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If you are using large marshmallows, put them on the warm cookies so they melt slightly.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-21255159957708136212010-11-23T09:28:00.000-08:002010-11-23T09:28:53.490-08:00All Aboard!!!"This is the POLAR EXPRESS!!!"<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy9rnOFMI46TiSsSCf2gSXD56sWVSjISA6aZBoUpfEssieTnPtHc8eE26CmgEe95j1oOIYgGVjLSRxOmoAOAnRwBJq4_x4fQWS-cciSBJ1ItXm7UNF3V1nFZQEVQKXdQp6u3OlvaQhLPO/s1600/IMG_4005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy9rnOFMI46TiSsSCf2gSXD56sWVSjISA6aZBoUpfEssieTnPtHc8eE26CmgEe95j1oOIYgGVjLSRxOmoAOAnRwBJq4_x4fQWS-cciSBJ1ItXm7UNF3V1nFZQEVQKXdQp6u3OlvaQhLPO/s320/IMG_4005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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We are back from our first EVER family vacation! We drove to Williams, AZ and rode the Polar Express. All...the...way...to the NORTH POLE! Santa gave all four kiddos a very special bell. If you can still hear it ringing, you must still believe in Santa.<br />
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For the record...I can still hear it ringing!<br />
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And since I don't like Blogger's new format for pictures....you can see the whole 200+ pictures on FB! Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas!!! <br />
GOD BLESS YOU! <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1eVjUQytqfMhTIrZlsCTkTK1T7Nsz7owVwIH3c-8z5QqF8cOxurBz95JOZyjwbjAlqTYWJ_OF6t85GphZuAF0F8b8kfpQLYZtw4sabMGXzk5mNcfXimpJ73xemTPAP4UbFNhID439loB4/s1600/IMG_4086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1eVjUQytqfMhTIrZlsCTkTK1T7Nsz7owVwIH3c-8z5QqF8cOxurBz95JOZyjwbjAlqTYWJ_OF6t85GphZuAF0F8b8kfpQLYZtw4sabMGXzk5mNcfXimpJ73xemTPAP4UbFNhID439loB4/s320/IMG_4086.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-759nU77cMnc9Vo5XxHHL2JVhFmjtRfe77uekec8FZFOu1p6CrSXa1OMsD5v2TgoYBOBoj5AozYSTs_N5lFTMqyrW23-mQTkPMfwxhGXTDhyphenhyphentLbZ77RRyHzv8m-yRFn-u2-iRzLr5Buj5/s1600/IMG_4112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-759nU77cMnc9Vo5XxHHL2JVhFmjtRfe77uekec8FZFOu1p6CrSXa1OMsD5v2TgoYBOBoj5AozYSTs_N5lFTMqyrW23-mQTkPMfwxhGXTDhyphenhyphentLbZ77RRyHzv8m-yRFn-u2-iRzLr5Buj5/s320/IMG_4112.JPG" width="320" /></a>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-48034672483036463132010-09-03T10:15:00.000-07:002010-09-03T10:17:52.413-07:00Dig DEEPERI've kind of joked around with Insanity and the encouraging words Shaun T. uses to keep you motivated. It must work for me, though, because I am still doing it and still loving it.<br />
<br />
My favorite phrase he says is, "Dig deeper! You can <i>freaking</i> do this!"<br />
<br />
Because, you know what? I can. I can poop out really fast, too. It takes a whole lot less self-encouragement and arguing with my body to have it just sit on the couch instead. But I know, at the end of the day, I'd be annoyed with myself. <br />
<br />
And then, I hear God whisper to me,<i> "Dig deeper." </i><br />
<br />
And my first reaction is, "I will later, Lord. I want to (<u>fill in the blank</u>) first."<br />
<br />
And my day goes on with more things that come "first."<br />
<br />
But lately, I've been getting up early because Hannah has given me a 6:30am wake up call to use the rest room. "Mommy!! I need to go peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!" Thank you for that, Pretty. So, I've taken the opportunity to read my Bible and start a journal again before the kids are awake. And you know what? I can <i>freaking</i> do this, too. And I <i>want</i> to. And I feel like something is missing when I haven't done it. And He is faithful to whisper still,<i> "Carrie, dig deeper." </i><br />
<br />
The difference of starting my day with the Lord in unexplainable, except that His grace seems to be in abundance when I have tapped into Him. <br />
<br />
I have found what I call my "Sweet Spot" with the Lord. My yellow chair flanked by two corner windows and a little table with a lamp on top for light. It's where I meet with Him in the morning and offer Him my day and all that is contained in it. Because He already knows it. Because He's already seen it, walked it, and graciously given me the day that He has made. <br />
<br />
Oh God of mine, I’ll have no idols<br />
Oh God of mine, come lead the way<br />
Oh God of mine, I’m greatly humbled<br />
This sinner’s heart You came to save<br />
Oh God of mine through storm and trial<br />
Oh God of mine through death and grave<br />
Oh God of mine in resurrection<br />
Your scars display my soul’s refrain<br />
Oh God of mine Who holds all nations<br />
Oh God of mine Who saves the day<br />
Oh God of mine, Your grace sufficient<br />
And tender mercies new by morn<br />
Oh God of mine, forever faithful<br />
Oh God of mine, forever stay<br />
Oh God of mine, forever after<br />
These eyes upon Your face will gaze<br />
<br />
-Rita Springer <br />
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Have you found your "Sweet Spot" with God?Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-27386238077502630902010-08-12T12:43:00.000-07:002010-08-12T13:54:54.984-07:00I Define God to My KidsI have been washed, wrung, and hung out to dry with something that I was re-taught last night.<br /><br />I DEFINE GOD TO MY KIDS.<br /><br />Yesterday, we were at Michael's and I accidentally broke a picture frame. Noah knows that they are not allowed to touch things in the stores because they could break something and then I'd have to buy it and that's not how we want to spend our money, etc. So, when he saw me break the picture frame he said, "Oh no...you broke it Mom. Now you have to do the right things and buy it." Yes, I do and yes, I did. Thankfully, it was only $5.<br /><br />I DEFINE GOD TO MY KIDS.<br /><br />Last night at our Growing Kids God's Way class (yes, we are taking it again! Trust me, we need it!), we were reminded that Christianity is not a religion of mediocrity. This is HUGE! We are to do things and do things as unto the Lord, and if you do something for the Lord, you naturally WANT to do it well. Christianity is NOT a religion of MEDIOCRITY. I was reminded of the idea of "good, better, and best." It is <span style="font-style: italic;">good</span> that Noah wants to be a witness for the Lord. He could learn to do it <span style="font-style: italic;">better</span> by speaking with more love. Eventually, he could be the <span style="font-style: italic;">best</span> witness ever because he is unashamed of the gospel. I am a <span style="font-style: italic;">good</span> mom. I could be <span style="font-style: italic;">better</span>. For the sake of my kids, I want to be their <span style="font-style: italic;">best</span> mom ever.<br /><br />I DEFINE GOD TO MY KIDS.<br /><br />Love is not RUDE. Be COURTEOUS to all men. Another thing I was reminded of, not just during our GKGW class, but also during my Precept study I did earlier that day. This was meant to be a reminder for us to teach our children good manners. Offer your seat to the elderly. Open the door for people (my boys are awesome at this). Honor age by offering them the first plate of food. All these things are done because love is not rude and God asks us to love our neighbor by being courteous to all men. The problem here for me...is that I am rude to my kids. Ouch. I hate to admit it, but it is true. I am sarcastic at times. I also act as if they are bothering me when they ask for something which is not very courteous. I have a bad habit of ignoring them when they call my name. How can I expect them to trust me in big things, like God and Jesus and His saving grace, if they can't trust me in the little things, like knowing I will answer when they call?<br /><br />I DEFINE GOD TO MY KIDS.<br /><br />And let's just be real here. I bake bread, make cookies, make granola bars, wash clothes, clean the house, work out, lead a Sunday School class, attend Bible studies, and make signs. People ask me how I do it. I don't. I am a figment of your imagination. I guarantee you the process of my daily grind is way less glamorous than you have it in your mind. You know what I keep thinking? What does all that matter if I have not love? Some days, I am so over-whelmed, I yell at my kids. I yell at my husband. I crash and burn into bed at 8:05pm because the kids have gone to bed at eight. Some days, I go all day without praying or reading the Bible. The hours between 4 and 8pm are the most daunting for our family. I'm trying to cook dinner while the kids are screaming that they are starving and I'm burning the bread, yet again. Dinner is a yard sale because the kids don't like what I fixed...and by that time, I'm exhausted with being nice and kind and not losing my mind that I make up for the whole day of "nice" Mommy with one explosion. Did I mention that my house is not clean?<br /><br />I DEFINE GOD TO MY KIDS.<br /><br />And we are here to define God to the world. My kids will one day define God to the world and the picture I want them to have of God begins with me.<br /><br />I am in prayer for a young wife who is waiting for a double lung transplant. While talking to Nic about her, I have also been in awe of her mom who is as strong as ever in her faith, but also raised an amazing woman of God. What did she do? What was her secret? What can I learn from her? What do I know of her?<br /><br />I know she was and is a woman of God. I know she was involved with her kids and their friend's parents. I know she practiced what she preached to her kids. I know she was constantly in prayer for them. I know she earned their respect, honor and trust. I know her children will praise her at the gates.<br /><br />Will mine? That is my hearts desire, but I could certainly do better on the road to getting there because:<br /><br />I DEFINE GOD TO MY KIDS.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-2998268544420074692010-08-11T09:24:00.001-07:002010-08-12T08:47:24.131-07:00Isaac, it's not even 10am, yet!He's just too resourceful for his own good.<br /><br />Um...I think he wants to watch tv and he can't quite climb up on the couch, yet. That's his sister's chair from the breakfast nook.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvS54zm8BNSzRKtT4VMCJ5MUprfgqCqEkmFkL7uwjIZSEWWVEGPFjc2EWwky175p8ZkHzNNai3gZ7cE_UHRs0ZeqCtpL2O4AQXeTZxy0JUsC5WWqNiHYZOMYrMy3A2GeBe3Lnh63zg6Up1/s1600/IMG_3667%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvS54zm8BNSzRKtT4VMCJ5MUprfgqCqEkmFkL7uwjIZSEWWVEGPFjc2EWwky175p8ZkHzNNai3gZ7cE_UHRs0ZeqCtpL2O4AQXeTZxy0JUsC5WWqNiHYZOMYrMy3A2GeBe3Lnh63zg6Up1/s400/IMG_3667%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504189455686030226" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxsJtGTVrI2nRII-GhEXrbVbkFnbosxR4JwYFH51LPZYFB7-Hct_2aiL73SA2LHcWIHY2D5VOF9YWm2T88MFFK6mcA_2OMzngCzyGnkoVdqFXmp7VcSAPpzLHTXfyZCUsvoA2MRc7JTKJ/s1600/IMG_3669%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxsJtGTVrI2nRII-GhEXrbVbkFnbosxR4JwYFH51LPZYFB7-Hct_2aiL73SA2LHcWIHY2D5VOF9YWm2T88MFFK6mcA_2OMzngCzyGnkoVdqFXmp7VcSAPpzLHTXfyZCUsvoA2MRc7JTKJ/s400/IMG_3669%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504189457985307442" border="0" /></a>He's pretty proud of himself.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-46880280899253606482010-08-11T08:26:00.000-07:002010-08-11T08:29:55.887-07:00This is for Becky.Ask and you shall receive. :) Love ya, sis! Hope you like it!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr5CaV0gCwsBoTakzIzpaR67676GWkBYlr9S-uFliCCmPVpKqhkKihhO5cSNNsHEjnYhk9gpxq5fnsnwcwSyWfsBC-JPWzGkfURz3EaRmv9NVI5lNkSUu5p7t8JJv4Cbx_zwGFsGlkGLit/s1600/IMG_3665%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr5CaV0gCwsBoTakzIzpaR67676GWkBYlr9S-uFliCCmPVpKqhkKihhO5cSNNsHEjnYhk9gpxq5fnsnwcwSyWfsBC-JPWzGkfURz3EaRmv9NVI5lNkSUu5p7t8JJv4Cbx_zwGFsGlkGLit/s400/IMG_3665%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504174241406394690" border="0" /></a>The colors will be slightly more intense once I seal it.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-16343888064332740322010-08-10T12:36:00.000-07:002010-08-10T12:43:09.549-07:00I finally made one for ME!Here is our "Est." sign:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ppb2qRdZChvMwVScEyO1M4ePSMakWshEG6-5x7zfHKxi0DL9MTkv11EIe7b9w_ugErolQw0CccZdo7hb7Cj6-nuooIN1ieS6E42_dW1mQD7zGYttzP87Q2HL-TbQva7fTXY8KEjYvKn4/s1600/IMG_3664%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ppb2qRdZChvMwVScEyO1M4ePSMakWshEG6-5x7zfHKxi0DL9MTkv11EIe7b9w_ugErolQw0CccZdo7hb7Cj6-nuooIN1ieS6E42_dW1mQD7zGYttzP87Q2HL-TbQva7fTXY8KEjYvKn4/s400/IMG_3664%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503867664049055842" border="0" /></a><br />And can I just say that I'm SUPER excited to start decorating for fall????<br /><br />If you would like to order an "Established" sign with this design, please visit my<a href="http://signs-of-life-carrie.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-finally-made-one-for-me.html"> sign blog</a> and leave a comment and I will contact you!Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-60698034175059869262010-08-02T17:19:00.001-07:002010-08-02T17:37:02.977-07:00It's Dinner Time!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyAKRwzED8vKuJw2_oXQz95m-0EXHkpnGVF2XJmknaEOndbxyygVMqcGIEIVdIvhxkuo0ZKurzuX5F3KFSovqM4E0LgLrN5YniFpJUTUbnCRp8rp2vydIuPethTWWxw54Fro6qd9KGvbd/s1600/IMG_3659%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyAKRwzED8vKuJw2_oXQz95m-0EXHkpnGVF2XJmknaEOndbxyygVMqcGIEIVdIvhxkuo0ZKurzuX5F3KFSovqM4E0LgLrN5YniFpJUTUbnCRp8rp2vydIuPethTWWxw54Fro6qd9KGvbd/s400/IMG_3659%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500975868386762098" border="0" /></a><br />I was given this amazing and versatile recipe from my friend Cindy. Tonight, I'm using crock pot chicken that was "crocked" with celery, bell peppers, carrots, onion, salt and pepper, garlic, and rosemary. I could have been making chicken soup. But I wasn't. I usually use canned chicken, but crock pot chicken is FABULOUS. Just sayin'. Any left over chicken will do.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Chicken Packets</span><br />2-3c cooked, chopped chicken<br />3-6oz cream cheese (I put 8)<br />1T green onions (omitted because of the onion in the crock)<br />2T milk<br />1 clove garlic (omitted again)<br />salt to taste (yup, you guess it...omitted)<br />2pkgs refrigerated crescent rolls<br />1/4c melted butter<br />1/2c bread crumbs or panko<br /><br />Oven at 350degrees.<br />Mix chicken, cheese, onions, milk, garlic and salt together.<br />Make your crescent rolls into 8 rectangles making sure to press the two triangles together well.<br />Fill each rectangle with some of the filling and fold over. Press to secure edges.<br /><br />Dip each packet into melted butter, place on baking sheet, and sprinkle with bread crumbs. *I just sprinkle with bread crumbs and skip the butter*<br /><br />Bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown.<br /><br />If you add veggies (I add broccoli or mixed veggies sometimes) then it's a one stop shop for dinner.<br /><br />I usually make it casserole style (and really stuff it full of filling) by laying 1pkg of crescent rolls out in a 9x13 baking dish. Dump your filling on it and then put the second layer of crescent rolls on top. Drizzle the butter and sprinkle the bread crumbs. Bake for 30 minutes.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-44826714608645858502010-07-12T08:58:00.000-07:002010-07-12T17:44:59.041-07:00Dove TattooI wanted something girly. Not colored in. Not too big. Something I could cover up with clothes if I had to. Most importantly, I wanted something that MEANT something to me. Something that represented my faith in Jesus Christ and something that might spark a conversation with someone else who might comment on it.<br /><br />I have been looking for at least six months, knowing this was my final destination...my reward for hard work and depriving myself, for the most part, of sugar, cake, bread (even the homemade kind!). Pretty much the stuff I love to eat WAY too much of. The stuff that likes to stick around on my body WAY too much. And when I started Insanity...the final ten pounds just melted off my body. <span style="font-style: italic;">Like pouring peanut butter out of a jar. </span> I don't know if you know this, but peanut butter doesn't POUR. It was HARD work and infuriating. But worth it.<br /><br />So...back to the tattoo.<br /><br />Some looked more realistic:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOFQsYcOsjWsKuQQ3R-EuF8yVNYaV8rbMB-Jldglxi-DbIN8CFfVmdUbtmCXmR7jUGb9D7sCm99kDTPxE2vJo1lI7uRdAKLOMQTjLDK2DIHYkOALSVOQ_AQwEpRJLfCqjrHHUid3wHZA5/s1600/dove+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOFQsYcOsjWsKuQQ3R-EuF8yVNYaV8rbMB-Jldglxi-DbIN8CFfVmdUbtmCXmR7jUGb9D7sCm99kDTPxE2vJo1lI7uRdAKLOMQTjLDK2DIHYkOALSVOQ_AQwEpRJLfCqjrHHUid3wHZA5/s400/dove+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493053161587539986" border="0" /></a>Some looked abstract:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqU-0z-RXDr9BvIHldBOs02c7DR6FbCk9mc4oYKxLYRuiOaPL0Y_AlY3NPqCwkoDLoCjxqaq_wYko9R3ZJSh2pdyOvT0w4W4qiqUhI9DLFSt3x9Vm_3j45bIVEqUL4kvjyynXdcOlyczA/s1600/abstract+dove.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqU-0z-RXDr9BvIHldBOs02c7DR6FbCk9mc4oYKxLYRuiOaPL0Y_AlY3NPqCwkoDLoCjxqaq_wYko9R3ZJSh2pdyOvT0w4W4qiqUhI9DLFSt3x9Vm_3j45bIVEqUL4kvjyynXdcOlyczA/s400/abstract+dove.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493053429968699698" border="0" /></a><br />Some were like Picasso:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSrZhGPEKoRDOVTtz-9Ezka_7-ujQ4UJ8PQHDyTEncCAiLPRcRqNPKGeKJ1U0YrPETOuqinL1PyzT9qNuh11MJtOvRzKGn0MZUfrOmEuTHtobzbNtmHJ39Rm99lKY8zQwlnvRDOx_Q6ry7/s1600/picasso+dove.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 121px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSrZhGPEKoRDOVTtz-9Ezka_7-ujQ4UJ8PQHDyTEncCAiLPRcRqNPKGeKJ1U0YrPETOuqinL1PyzT9qNuh11MJtOvRzKGn0MZUfrOmEuTHtobzbNtmHJ39Rm99lKY8zQwlnvRDOx_Q6ry7/s400/picasso+dove.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493053443588956658" border="0" /></a><br />Some did the symbolic olive branch from the Noahs' Ark story in the Bible:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuFmxXU7MCnw1jF0YoMhMd-D1D9W6BLAwLrFsDc9b1INcOcpDAKZUcsWTE83Pv3XLxD_ZXhjKOQR-bKd53wTz3DH3OIJ_HS6xubcmLCpy4iGeNzZ79jpErwaJLONamOXVTirfIGcD9w01/s1600/dove+with+branch.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuFmxXU7MCnw1jF0YoMhMd-D1D9W6BLAwLrFsDc9b1INcOcpDAKZUcsWTE83Pv3XLxD_ZXhjKOQR-bKd53wTz3DH3OIJ_HS6xubcmLCpy4iGeNzZ79jpErwaJLONamOXVTirfIGcD9w01/s400/dove+with+branch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493053436177982274" border="0" /></a><br />Some....well...weren't doves:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgROSEheV6yBgbLd7k4Af0UpojhMgXHVR72wMn_Wuztrc4212vjL11j68tXT6fO5Tq89sm6BzuHrZF53_441U9WrA4MTJmZ8lv9k5iSsh3v34pKDl-SKEJ5PK6tNFFfKbjtoz2WbqiL8cJ1/s1600/colored+dove.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgROSEheV6yBgbLd7k4Af0UpojhMgXHVR72wMn_Wuztrc4212vjL11j68tXT6fO5Tq89sm6BzuHrZF53_441U9WrA4MTJmZ8lv9k5iSsh3v34pKDl-SKEJ5PK6tNFFfKbjtoz2WbqiL8cJ1/s400/colored+dove.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493053171070198050" border="0" /></a><br />But mine...I knew it when I saw it and it was confirmed with Brooke going "Oh, get that one!!!!" It was a spur of the moment decision to get it THAT day. I was content to wait for another two weeks (cause really..I was scared), but then my cheerleader and confidence booster (read: Brooke) wasn't going to be available. I wanted her to hold my hand, tell me how tough I was and basically, not let me chicken out. She called the parlor. Yeah, that's how chicken I was. It was 6:30 at night. Were they REALLY still going to be open? Yeah. They were. Who knew, but apparently, tattoo parlors keep late hours. <span style="font-style: italic;">Huh</span>. They were open until midnight. Nic said I could go.<br /><br />We had plenty of time. <span style="font-style: italic;"> For me to pee my pants.</span> And no excuses. <span style="font-style: italic;">No real ones, anyway</span>.<br /><br />We stopped at my moms to pick up the kiddos from their overnight stay where she ended up cleaning up urine for two days. Fun for her....relaxing for me to let someone else do it for a while! <span style="font-style: italic;"> Thanks, Mom!</span> (and Dad!)<br /><br />I told my mom what we were doing. She was very supportive. Very. Did I mention she wants a tattoo? I'm pretty sure she was waiting for me to get one so I could relay exactly how much pain you endure before she bit the bullet. <span style="font-style: italic;">It's alright Mom, I'll take one for the team.</span><br /><br />Took the kiddos home and dropped them off with Nic. Headed out to our adventure. At this point, my stomach is getting that nervous gurgle going on.<br /><br />Thankfully, they take your money before you get the tattoo. Once I had paid, it was a done deal. I'd rather keep something that kind of doesn't work the way I thought it would than go through the pain of returning it to the store. I paid. I was getting what I paid for.<br /><br />After I watched Brooke let the piercing lady drive a stake through her nose, dangle a cork on the end of it and stick a light blue rhinestone stud through the hole, it was my turn. By the way...Brooke has a nose piercing now. She's adorable. I wish I had a picture to show you. It's funny how it fits her face.<br /><br />My tattoo artist was VERY nice and Brooke and I decided he had a sad quality about him that has kept him in my prayers since I've been there. Is that odd? I can't help it. Some people I meet make profound impacts on me in very short periods of time and I can't get them out of my head. I know the best thing I can do for them is pray for them...so I do.<br /><br />Sad Guy asked me if it was my first time. Yeah. *Blush*<br /><br />Then he said, "It feels like a cat scratch, but it's not constant because I have to get more ink periodically, so you get a break."<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Cat scratch.</span> Ok. I can do that. I've had those before. But this time I couldn't curse the "cat" giving it to me. I was the cat. <span style="font-style: italic;">And Sad Guy was my claw.</span><br /><br />Cue disinfectant. Antiseptic. Carbon copy of my tattoo. Cue LOUD NOISE!!!! What the heck is THAT?!!!<br /><br />"Oh, yeah. Don't let the sound scare you. They are kind of loud."<br /><br />By 'they' he means the machine that works the needle. It's loud. Thankfully, it's bark is REALLY worse than it's bite.<br /><br />Ten minutes later (yes TEN MINUTES) and I was checking out my new tat in their mirror. My cheerleader was chanting "You're awesome! You're tough! You're awesome!" <span style="font-style: italic;">Gorsh...thanks.</span><br /><br />Yes, we probably are going through some kind of "Mommy mid-life crisis." At least what we're doing isn't permanent. Ok, so mine is. Eh. Like my brother in law would say, "Our body's are perishing anyway." Sometimes, I really love his logic.<br /><br />And now I feel like the biggest weenie because it really wasn't a huge deal. Small price of minimal pain for something I've wanted to do my whole life. Done. Where's that bucket list???<br /><br />And here it is:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtW0Cl0ZjMq_b7FjzVIU0fZRVyizURBaeWiA5gm_awA96zSiS2O-PndMtbyV1TsZJ_d_QbJ20UyV2psW1sb0R-WWEue9AS7Q9K6rAdG1m4A7buUApI9NGsPn_WKo2skn_wCbVYMBplDhcv/s1600/IMG_3620%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtW0Cl0ZjMq_b7FjzVIU0fZRVyizURBaeWiA5gm_awA96zSiS2O-PndMtbyV1TsZJ_d_QbJ20UyV2psW1sb0R-WWEue9AS7Q9K6rAdG1m4A7buUApI9NGsPn_WKo2skn_wCbVYMBplDhcv/s400/IMG_3620%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493062183602928418" border="0" /></a>A dove. The Holy Spirit that lives within me, now also is pictured ON me. <span style="font-style: italic;">Tattoo-style.</span><br /><br />Noah thinks it's a bald eagle. <span style="font-style: italic;">Humph.</span> I'm pretty sure I could have gotten a picture of a flower and he would have said it was a bald eagle. Stinker. But I love him.<br /><br />And then, he promptly asked when he gets to have a tattoo that will never go away. <span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>I told him when hell freezes over like any good mom would. <span style="font-style: italic;">Naw...just kiddin'. </span><br /><br />Nic has been amazing helping me clean it, put creme on it, stalk it...'cause he really LOVES it and has to stop himself from touching it. I love that man.<br /><br />It's really not sore. Luke touched it and Nic just about made us all jump out of our skin when he yelled at him to not do it, but the actual touch didn't hurt at all. My little Luke. He has to <span style="font-style: italic;">touch</span> things. I love that about him.<br /><br />I thought I might have buyers remorse. Body remorse. Pain remorse. Or tattoo remorse that I didn't get what I <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> wanted. No remorse, whatsoever.<br /><br />Did I mention I want another one?Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-69989734646331111252010-06-30T10:46:00.000-07:002010-06-30T11:27:16.190-07:00TattoosDo you love 'em?<br /><br />Hate 'em?<br /><br />I personally don't like them when they are all over the body, on the front of the neck, the chest, all the way down the arms, etc. But on backs, no biggie. My sister-in-law has one on her foot and I love it on her!!<br /><br />Some tattoos are just down-right FREAKY. Yes, these are TATTOOs!!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjmFAv6V48YNwu9DVIGfF_WeV_soPnHfjQYj1NgR3dRWvZ1GnrUKSX_AyK5hr4mbYj4kmot1k3OT0nBmOVo3ayCDUz6MZLrpJL1vdwDSF-Xz-FxkTd0DdW137hsihxAWDRCIgrB7otRvDx/s1600/spider.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 129px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjmFAv6V48YNwu9DVIGfF_WeV_soPnHfjQYj1NgR3dRWvZ1GnrUKSX_AyK5hr4mbYj4kmot1k3OT0nBmOVo3ayCDUz6MZLrpJL1vdwDSF-Xz-FxkTd0DdW137hsihxAWDRCIgrB7otRvDx/s400/spider.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488633417005843106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpkjqP5dMpuBopAGbj3lISoT6ogZjd6ir0J3Li3PZBV1xnzJuKVl_eYPi4bWt-Wh6iBtzNO-O9gs6fexPMd0-getOyC4oQ6XJRv9FVasX4GvihUsUqXy_-kmtDw697cVp4Dm67zuGKBRi/s1600/lizard.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 231px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpkjqP5dMpuBopAGbj3lISoT6ogZjd6ir0J3Li3PZBV1xnzJuKVl_eYPi4bWt-Wh6iBtzNO-O9gs6fexPMd0-getOyC4oQ6XJRv9FVasX4GvihUsUqXy_-kmtDw697cVp4Dm67zuGKBRi/s400/lizard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488633426658642130" border="0" /></a>My boys would <span style="font-style: italic;">LOVE</span> this one:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kd36aTM4NpVbdlMa-ajiWYagg_1rzS2ac5Kbe33BWyURwtRyrYHqMURrlfDiXSJy3rUPVMXV_uQRT0vFj4Nj2ZrhlRKovHJArX-EeCADQHCz7go-CQnb3eImqA5MpqHJTZ5dPdG6DObL/s1600/spiderman.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kd36aTM4NpVbdlMa-ajiWYagg_1rzS2ac5Kbe33BWyURwtRyrYHqMURrlfDiXSJy3rUPVMXV_uQRT0vFj4Nj2ZrhlRKovHJArX-EeCADQHCz7go-CQnb3eImqA5MpqHJTZ5dPdG6DObL/s400/spiderman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488633431715680514" border="0" /></a>Sorry, boys. It's not happening. Ever.<br /><br />Some more questions for ya!<br /><br />Where would you get one and why that spot?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRhDG-wKKC1ze-dTBEG-P4IqZWeIXodZDUh9MiMUUxLIlZocgcbXIniD7xNHZ24qEnSOqAEem7K_nUVGKeX6qGei8IHRqhwFLREZFeVOPLau33bzQKcdkKmcK8RQifnX4F3ZUvfbSKti2/s1600/stars.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRhDG-wKKC1ze-dTBEG-P4IqZWeIXodZDUh9MiMUUxLIlZocgcbXIniD7xNHZ24qEnSOqAEem7K_nUVGKeX6qGei8IHRqhwFLREZFeVOPLau33bzQKcdkKmcK8RQifnX4F3ZUvfbSKti2/s400/stars.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488634259452274754" border="0" /></a><br />What would it be and why?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAHXtXL9SXehpH7PGRC8Yu_sX9TZZ5RrWs2LTCCY42O3s7CKhvLx82Ap_-GfUb_901OSd6p_DC2vwMqJiQtVNBu7KppGIniaOMmmzGkvaFYrrJL-IR8phjWA_ZwvOE9x2kWL8uJ2QObxL/s1600/butterfly+neck.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 165px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAHXtXL9SXehpH7PGRC8Yu_sX9TZZ5RrWs2LTCCY42O3s7CKhvLx82Ap_-GfUb_901OSd6p_DC2vwMqJiQtVNBu7KppGIniaOMmmzGkvaFYrrJL-IR8phjWA_ZwvOE9x2kWL8uJ2QObxL/s400/butterfly+neck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488634250410312690" border="0" /></a><br />If you have one, do you regret it and why?<br /><br />Here's the most important question. <span style="font-weight: bold;">WHERE DID YOU GET IT??? </span> I obviously want to go somewhere reputable!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAHXtXL9SXehpH7PGRC8Yu_sX9TZZ5RrWs2LTCCY42O3s7CKhvLx82Ap_-GfUb_901OSd6p_DC2vwMqJiQtVNBu7KppGIniaOMmmzGkvaFYrrJL-IR8phjWA_ZwvOE9x2kWL8uJ2QObxL/s1600/butterfly+neck.jpg"><br /></a>Most people have told me to make sure it has meaning for you personally, not just to get one rashly and without reason. I've been stalking different tattoos for MONTHS and think I have what I want, the question is just where.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim73dtw_cC3b_GQDoDiKvj36TcCT15bnnuQ_sp4UeLHXjG2D_ucQ3HNGwEZ4YpYsdEVB6hqaZt6sM5oI_LhqbanwZnepvCN3rZcN9U5qvmF_bx9Nb0i_DiKb7Hmwfcz6OKPoKDf0gDbmu-/s1600/trinity+knot.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim73dtw_cC3b_GQDoDiKvj36TcCT15bnnuQ_sp4UeLHXjG2D_ucQ3HNGwEZ4YpYsdEVB6hqaZt6sM5oI_LhqbanwZnepvCN3rZcN9U5qvmF_bx9Nb0i_DiKb7Hmwfcz6OKPoKDf0gDbmu-/s400/trinity+knot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488634265514315218" border="0" /></a>And for those of you who are wondering: my husband has a silent love for them. <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't try to deny it, honey.</span> By that, I mean...he smiles when I talk about getting one, asks me where...and then offers suggestions. Yup, he's on board. And I think he's looking forward to me having one. <span style="font-style: italic;">Just sayin'.<br /><br />*None of these tattoos are what I'm getting....just in case you were wondering.*<br /></span>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-5896460980032581622010-06-23T19:12:00.000-07:002010-06-23T19:28:47.115-07:0010 Things<span style="font-weight: bold;">Here it is. My list of ten things I've learned about myself while I've worked out to Insanity and Shaun T. for the last ten weeks.</span><br /><br />1. I DO have time to work out.<br />2. I CAN push myself to get those last ten push-ups in.<br />3. I LOVE dripping with sweat. <span style="font-style: italic;">Who knew?</span><br />4. I FEEL better when I'm working out.<br />5. I LOVE my husband more when I'm working out. (Take that however you want.)<br />6. I CAN lift my butt up with exercise alone. Squats, ladies...squats.<br />7. I DO have a six-pack <span style="font-style: italic;">somewhere underneath all this skin. </span><br />8. Shaun T. is from the devil during my workout. He's a saint when I fit into my size 4 jeans.<br />9. Have muscles is a good thing. It means I burn more calories just sitting. Which, of course means I can eat more!<br />10. My husband was right. <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't tell him I said that.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ten things I hope to have accomplished when the next ten weeks are done:</span><br /><br />1. Drop another five pounds.<br />2. Get a tattoo (when I drop that last five pounds).<br />3. Get through a MAX work out without dropping to the floor.<br />4. Lift weights. <span style="font-style: italic;">Sometimes, honey...not every day.</span><br />5. Make it through the ten weeks!<br />6. See a small bit of that six-pack.<br />7. Where my size four jeans regularly, not just on a skinny day. <span style="font-style: italic;">You ladies know what I'm talkin' about!</span><br />8. Continue to eat well. Hard to do when you're cookin' for kids!<br />9. Get up earlier to spend time with God before my day starts, not halfway through!<br />10. Love my husband better. (Take that however you want.)Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-46362814075782818112010-06-23T09:53:00.000-07:002010-06-23T09:54:40.174-07:00I'm a great wife.Or not.<br /><br />My husband wrote<a href="http://psalm119-175.blogspot.com/"> this blog post</a> back in February. I<span style="font-style: italic;"> JUST</span> read it.<br /><br />I'm a horrible wife.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-61016961132736990202010-06-22T12:41:00.000-07:002010-06-22T12:48:27.498-07:00Love, Obey, AbideCheck out what's new! (This one, I can SHIP!!!)<br /><br /><a href="http://signs-of-life-carrie.blogspot.com/2010/06/love-obey-abide.html">Signs of Life</a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7SrCBntWBctYU44t3fWbFbhTSQ6kEAwQmE0uYJYOFtqfeA19tBkEbkKQt8MJghoUGNXPrJD8URyQw56n2LkR3rsT-5UvtsnwTQSD-xETvjHn453qHPMjZ3R9gcX_cjXhNjn4nAm6_vfN/s1600/IMG_3524.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7SrCBntWBctYU44t3fWbFbhTSQ6kEAwQmE0uYJYOFtqfeA19tBkEbkKQt8MJghoUGNXPrJD8URyQw56n2LkR3rsT-5UvtsnwTQSD-xETvjHn453qHPMjZ3R9gcX_cjXhNjn4nAm6_vfN/s400/IMG_3524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485685908799874482" border="0" /></a>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-68307658435590471142010-06-17T13:19:00.000-07:002010-06-17T13:21:52.418-07:00Signs of LifeYup, created a new blog for <a href="http://signs-of-life-carrie.blogspot.com/">Signs of Life</a>!<br /><br />Go check it out!Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-75962490850978702010-06-11T13:23:00.001-07:002010-06-11T13:31:02.590-07:00Graduation, Sweet 16, and Guitars!I've been a busy girl this week makin' cookies! Eighty graduation cookies for Buchanan (Go Bears!)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAZOr2xPRcvFAi6eoOjKvfsx5PYsIM3sDE8JMw0MnbjkRpuwhtlynrkdgSQno-AS_PCdOssrXHAXj324fhoOxr9K7iOx40a8FDRF2Y9WFfAyR9GdfipgIMUYLYnfyOF3r8NtRVUHJ-eMR/s1600/IMG_3462%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAZOr2xPRcvFAi6eoOjKvfsx5PYsIM3sDE8JMw0MnbjkRpuwhtlynrkdgSQno-AS_PCdOssrXHAXj324fhoOxr9K7iOx40a8FDRF2Y9WFfAyR9GdfipgIMUYLYnfyOF3r8NtRVUHJ-eMR/s400/IMG_3462%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481615561224499458" border="0" /></a>and eighty "Sweet 16" cookies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8h99m-XPYznfRpphvrbaOYQ7IbZElNfONdaD0FjvjD-km1kW_yx4-9ZQwDBpshs_OpZa417NsISOKcQK8CaL4NhRXNn3-2LKQ3-7EulCZ2BxMVMGrlnz_iRewTWLgSOvD7bw5sUzVsLbi/s1600/IMG_3467%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8h99m-XPYznfRpphvrbaOYQ7IbZElNfONdaD0FjvjD-km1kW_yx4-9ZQwDBpshs_OpZa417NsISOKcQK8CaL4NhRXNn3-2LKQ3-7EulCZ2BxMVMGrlnz_iRewTWLgSOvD7bw5sUzVsLbi/s400/IMG_3467%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481615551189087714" border="0" /></a> Both were for the grandchildren of my old dance coach.<br /><br />I also made a dozen guitar cookies for a friend's son who is having a "Rock" party. They're ROCKIN'!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibquDaQfQ5MYWJUFW3efsRV5a_srSnCZK00KWhsKcrlyRK1KhyVyovDFctaXCMJFptf4lXTmnyxWJafJhI3Tl6KCr8Dzl8jrX6RJeox3cFU4UelrYD-ju_lfuohOhsAE-V36T3zGh3AhXs/s1600/IMG_3466%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibquDaQfQ5MYWJUFW3efsRV5a_srSnCZK00KWhsKcrlyRK1KhyVyovDFctaXCMJFptf4lXTmnyxWJafJhI3Tl6KCr8Dzl8jrX6RJeox3cFU4UelrYD-ju_lfuohOhsAE-V36T3zGh3AhXs/s400/IMG_3466%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481615544053664386" border="0" /></a>(Yup...caught that one guitar with black knobs...fixed!)<br /><br />Poor Noah missed the last day of school because he got sick. Up until then, he had perfect attendance, too. He was a sad boy today.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-16259878171515224462010-06-04T10:16:00.000-07:002010-06-04T10:22:19.933-07:00Saw this, Loved this, Stole this<p style="text-align: left;">You ever read things that grab you by the heart because they were exactly what you needed to hear at the exact moment you needing to hear it? Yeah, me too. Found this on <a href="http://renderingrisch.wordpress.com/">her</a> blog and just had to re-post it.<br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;">THE PLACE WHERE I AM</p> <p style="text-align: center;">1. By His Appointment</p> <p style="text-align: center;">God brought me here. It is by His will that I am in this place.</p> <p style="text-align: center;">In that I will rest.</p> <p style="text-align: center;">2. In His Keeping</p> <p style="text-align: center;">He will keep me here in His love and give me grace in this trial to live as His child.</p> <p style="text-align: center;">3. Under His Training</p> <p style="text-align: center;">He will make the trail a blessing, teaching me the lessons he intends me to learn and working in me the grace He means to bestow. <span style="font-weight: bold;">It is more important for me to learn the lesson that I’m here to learn than to solve the problem.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;">4. For His Time</p> <p style="text-align: center;">In His good time he can bring me out again. How and when He knows.</p> <p style="text-align: center;">~Andrew Murray</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">Now sigh and give thanks to the Lord. That's what I did.<br /></p>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-37999049110601530352010-06-02T09:00:00.000-07:002010-06-02T13:20:54.376-07:00Happy Grad!!!<span style="font-size:130%;">Happy Graduation, Class of 2010!</span><br /><br />These cookies are for my cousin's son who is graduating this week.<br /><br />Hats:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWaRHorJmd_JgPA1GCToE1bLvlDmMYvK3MudTlqG1I3nQiYpkIOFIjEgDtBDcp2zoDF2vLhwb6i5nSW4jPY49syu3STLwtj0XH3ZrV-LLPIIR9M91MCCjNcz7vEfjPpwwF0xaQey8ier2/s1600/IMG_3459%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWaRHorJmd_JgPA1GCToE1bLvlDmMYvK3MudTlqG1I3nQiYpkIOFIjEgDtBDcp2zoDF2vLhwb6i5nSW4jPY49syu3STLwtj0XH3ZrV-LLPIIR9M91MCCjNcz7vEfjPpwwF0xaQey8ier2/s400/IMG_3459%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478207400570805954" border="0" /></a>And diplomas:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5MAdNIP6gfwbYfODs0uMNkzpsEKWc2-a48QwlXXKgaYqegYLaJDtcayhUSwSzY_uOBocVAbdkbAfFjhFNNZymjtdgW4Lm1mLs7Eq5oHOuSKMFWDaAneF-lUa84kjeRzusClQ-kuJ7ysh/s1600/IMG_3461%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5MAdNIP6gfwbYfODs0uMNkzpsEKWc2-a48QwlXXKgaYqegYLaJDtcayhUSwSzY_uOBocVAbdkbAfFjhFNNZymjtdgW4Lm1mLs7Eq5oHOuSKMFWDaAneF-lUa84kjeRzusClQ-kuJ7ysh/s400/IMG_3461%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478207409513705586" border="0" /></a>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-14955602788523525292010-05-10T08:33:00.000-07:002010-05-10T09:50:26.865-07:00"Established" SignThis was from my sister to my Mom for Mother's Day. My parents celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary this April.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QnB0wUW9MgcuHam3Vi2NJrUNibS61_cD03VtOQB4kbbHqGWxMsmwQx7c-U9DAnN7KI6bu_BHT0C1VuXvIyylVIi77teJ9vIv59K1AImqbwDN2xUOtnCu5SjHvj4VLJ7ru7z-EScIB_9e/s1600/IMG_3249%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QnB0wUW9MgcuHam3Vi2NJrUNibS61_cD03VtOQB4kbbHqGWxMsmwQx7c-U9DAnN7KI6bu_BHT0C1VuXvIyylVIi77teJ9vIv59K1AImqbwDN2xUOtnCu5SjHvj4VLJ7ru7z-EScIB_9e/s400/IMG_3249%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469665460951842514" border="0" /></a>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-18375881428101784492010-05-06T14:00:00.000-07:002010-05-06T14:47:48.877-07:00Very Special SignAnyone else LOVE adoption stories??? I do. A lot. A lot, a lot. I am so thankful to know that God loves and practices adoption. I think I cried at least five times making this sign.<br /><br />A friend of mine is adopting a little girl and her shower is today. I tore through at least an hour trying to find the perfect scripture for her. Proverbs 16:9 is fantastic for her story...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTv_RfK68Br5-SUtlLsvSd5pNqhBpVRZyN55yBjtmS4_gCccQ7trVHloDYCKGLtdxcgoO1OMT8GuhEp29qFimN1QIGYB17UBytcXjsOqgNL2x-LNiNGS_TEe3th_kCL1gbl4-ezFeCFfQi/s1600/IMG_3244%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTv_RfK68Br5-SUtlLsvSd5pNqhBpVRZyN55yBjtmS4_gCccQ7trVHloDYCKGLtdxcgoO1OMT8GuhEp29qFimN1QIGYB17UBytcXjsOqgNL2x-LNiNGS_TEe3th_kCL1gbl4-ezFeCFfQi/s400/IMG_3244%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468227506677449234" border="0" /></a><br />but finally settled on 1 Peter 3:3-4:<br /><br /><span class="reftext"></span>Let your beauty be not just the outward adorning of braiding the hair, and of wearing jewels of gold, or of putting on fine clothing; <span class="reftext"></span> but in the hidden person of the heart, in the incorruptible adornment of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God very precious.<br /><br />I think it's timely for the world she'll grow up in, but also such a sweet reminder for our daughters (and us!) to seek after what is precious to God, not man.<br /><br />Congrats to my friend! I can't wait to meet her!Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-19448865615045453392010-04-30T16:09:00.001-07:002010-04-30T17:20:21.042-07:00More for Mother's Day!Here are two more. The "Grandparents" one is an example of what it would look like with two grandchildren (size 8x16" and is $25). The other is an 8x8" ($15) square with a fleur de lis:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubHpFup6TNhZL-NxFEurRXetIahx22_e0IaY53ehIOvpVAa0SMd09WCdBepAJBJ4V3SoQqY7gIRcoWHGDetyC24TZh36bGEuvqIJkGUCk_Uip0f4zoRSs_d8-VPWd7IXtSrAkiaD53UD1/s1600/IMG_3228%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubHpFup6TNhZL-NxFEurRXetIahx22_e0IaY53ehIOvpVAa0SMd09WCdBepAJBJ4V3SoQqY7gIRcoWHGDetyC24TZh36bGEuvqIJkGUCk_Uip0f4zoRSs_d8-VPWd7IXtSrAkiaD53UD1/s400/IMG_3228%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466071939818355234" border="0" /></a>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-19740661956195068272010-04-30T08:57:00.001-07:002010-04-30T17:13:04.499-07:00Happy Mother's Day! *Updated*Happy Mother's Day, Mom!!! We love you!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjR62cuF7g0QCPoTtk1ztcT1UQYzCkr-MzBnBVPvDQoDdT1JZUtIKmx0inhSQ1ppIa5Uw3pcoUL-wLlgmglV0QPLNrotDPQtuYfIaskJWfLamve5RR_i_iIpgoGmUu3nKXSmtnchaKese/s1600/IMG_3219%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjR62cuF7g0QCPoTtk1ztcT1UQYzCkr-MzBnBVPvDQoDdT1JZUtIKmx0inhSQ1ppIa5Uw3pcoUL-wLlgmglV0QPLNrotDPQtuYfIaskJWfLamve5RR_i_iIpgoGmUu3nKXSmtnchaKese/s400/IMG_3219%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465960617985138802" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRKo2KZPCbNgTd0qrYpj2uPdTQSZK87ybO6MzfdgapsNqQoTjkclZBdfGYs4iDFwBKtQU8rljz1_9mdbEj-l79nHDGYnBR-RMWG3k05AeYZfesSiBhEHHPsJlxxTVJQdWBJ0-HN0lEOQy/s1600/IMG_3220%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRKo2KZPCbNgTd0qrYpj2uPdTQSZK87ybO6MzfdgapsNqQoTjkclZBdfGYs4iDFwBKtQU8rljz1_9mdbEj-l79nHDGYnBR-RMWG3k05AeYZfesSiBhEHHPsJlxxTVJQdWBJ0-HN0lEOQy/s400/IMG_3220%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465960631377438082" border="0" /></a><br />This sign measures 12x24" and is $45. The can be hung or rested on a mantle/shelf. This is a great Mother's day gift! Unfortunately, at this time, I'm only doing local orders. Sorry! Reach my via Facebook or my email (it is enabled on my profile on blogger). Thanks!Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-82794624975618294892010-04-29T14:25:00.000-07:002010-04-30T17:13:59.336-07:00Bridal Shower SignMy cousin is getting married soon. Their house is black and white (according to their registry) so I made this sign for her bridal shower:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9O1482eUGhCB1tJ4p6MdUlWUdWQzVkV8BXJyRuBV7rk60xh6P1upZHyNK6IwQoDh8ikD2ii9Yfv75kCrlot_1WMQNud2PWgXr51diKVDhUp8jsyWp3YmlT_-SkLlhdEgn-cctbn0Q0jZK/s1600/IMG_3214%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9O1482eUGhCB1tJ4p6MdUlWUdWQzVkV8BXJyRuBV7rk60xh6P1upZHyNK6IwQoDh8ikD2ii9Yfv75kCrlot_1WMQNud2PWgXr51diKVDhUp8jsyWp3YmlT_-SkLlhdEgn-cctbn0Q0jZK/s400/IMG_3214%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465674894069318482" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNE1yyX6j_yI_BGWSelRgIH3uJfLzMtXC1G4g4q9S3x1Oa3axFflbK0I6LIYKec8Jh43lKRZnl-tnwJZUz_J9Q-YwpdY8fPCXzP-_p7CHVbkKOlo9ey7_P90bafCqi4u8MVzWJizB7IeD/s1600/IMG_3213%5B1%5D.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNE1yyX6j_yI_BGWSelRgIH3uJfLzMtXC1G4g4q9S3x1Oa3axFflbK0I6LIYKec8Jh43lKRZnl-tnwJZUz_J9Q-YwpdY8fPCXzP-_p7CHVbkKOlo9ey7_P90bafCqi4u8MVzWJizB7IeD/s400/IMG_3213%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465674884695448482" border="0" /></a><br />If you would like a sign of your own, please comment or find me on Facebook. This sign measures 8x24" and is $25. <br /><br />More to come!!!Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3907172918160842035.post-26035355304822325152010-04-26T09:24:00.000-07:002010-04-26T09:46:25.675-07:00Hannah's Brithday!!I can't believe my baby girl is three! *sob*<br /><br />But she had a great birthday and was surrounded by family that loves her and cares for her so much. I couldn't ask for more for her. I told everyone that she loves dress up clothes and anything that screams "girl" so she received four...yes four tutus!! And I love it and she loves it...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTRNJL3PivptC3RucJo0qGAPdwj2SDljf7ZGXt2cuX7Ql55txU3yDoHtE0LU7-d_0oJFyn-o-qYhQvd4FuzthV_5uijIYGAijmfhQJ79GfYeXwWCRNlgNW4X7o-ZsP02zrxXTnFhLOvnk/s1600/IMG_3117.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTRNJL3PivptC3RucJo0qGAPdwj2SDljf7ZGXt2cuX7Ql55txU3yDoHtE0LU7-d_0oJFyn-o-qYhQvd4FuzthV_5uijIYGAijmfhQJ79GfYeXwWCRNlgNW4X7o-ZsP02zrxXTnFhLOvnk/s400/IMG_3117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464487171071235362" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsri9yv8tYAkX2kwU-9_EK6-BjyTmKB6tUD9-bGF6JZxbnpfKP8Nscc1uJDiMkRG1IWjl6LrEv_zOZTxt45FKk8h-lYHIXkxBAxTUPFL8fNdH3uFEYLZYC6MId2b2xNnjVLVx2MANjToM/s1600/IMG_3169.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsri9yv8tYAkX2kwU-9_EK6-BjyTmKB6tUD9-bGF6JZxbnpfKP8Nscc1uJDiMkRG1IWjl6LrEv_zOZTxt45FKk8h-lYHIXkxBAxTUPFL8fNdH3uFEYLZYC6MId2b2xNnjVLVx2MANjToM/s400/IMG_3169.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464488232474618242" border="0" /></a><br />"Miss Shea" from Stinkin' Cute Designs made her an adorable birthday outfit. OH yes, oh yes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nFQe8M7y6lf62lBFfHNqp0zUx6hAxl6KnKpXdOMsqjSP-zgn1jONPzB2mmwP5B0tdNJkeDu-tjXQQekLurd71oGZT3dEGVM5tcVoLzzCUyd3uxICJZ0n1VieeZ_fC30Rq5ROVdMfCAOQ/s1600/IMG_3122.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nFQe8M7y6lf62lBFfHNqp0zUx6hAxl6KnKpXdOMsqjSP-zgn1jONPzB2mmwP5B0tdNJkeDu-tjXQQekLurd71oGZT3dEGVM5tcVoLzzCUyd3uxICJZ0n1VieeZ_fC30Rq5ROVdMfCAOQ/s400/IMG_3122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464487180295829554" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9K61Wx0WsjL9haK8IqBkgEf-YKg06Li2GX7ad4FAkZL3385Z66qx7peCcl90ZAaYOKzScUaypKliggC9gthChFTVGCYrFiJKT3Mb7bvVstH43ZhHeOWoBFuYpYTwqRo4-EDOr5mgjZ0n/s1600/IMG_3132.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9K61Wx0WsjL9haK8IqBkgEf-YKg06Li2GX7ad4FAkZL3385Z66qx7peCcl90ZAaYOKzScUaypKliggC9gthChFTVGCYrFiJKT3Mb7bvVstH43ZhHeOWoBFuYpYTwqRo4-EDOr5mgjZ0n/s400/IMG_3132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464487188913425202" border="0" /></a>After cake and presents it was time for the big reveal. Both sets of grandparents went in together and bought her an outdoor playhouse.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zkWgXWoaf7sFzRbDTYTVoLjlEnhU-ykj65t6GxsR27DeZg0T7MclcbenvBumz_kwy3cMuZxXluIIQJpxfLjfg0w-eofE07BqmZhIHQSDpAMsnDVDSjWOwV_m_T9nFbH6xrSxmZezMVck/s1600/IMG_3187.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zkWgXWoaf7sFzRbDTYTVoLjlEnhU-ykj65t6GxsR27DeZg0T7MclcbenvBumz_kwy3cMuZxXluIIQJpxfLjfg0w-eofE07BqmZhIHQSDpAMsnDVDSjWOwV_m_T9nFbH6xrSxmZezMVck/s400/IMG_3187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464487201960841282" border="0" /></a>Here it is the next morning, breakfast has been made and eaten, and now...I have seen nothing of my children. They are outside. Playing. Not fighting. Not teasing. They're playing nice. <span style="font-style: italic;">Aaaahhhh.</span><br /><br />Happy birthday, Hannah! We have been blessed by three years with you and we pray to God for many, many more.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16411434218648143353noreply@blogger.com1