tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-141632702024-03-07T01:07:49.783-05:00The Thought TrainThoughts like a train come roaring through my brain...Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-53637995401198326622010-12-03T17:40:00.002-05:002010-12-03T17:48:27.687-05:00Where do we go from here?Well, today Jim got fired from his coaching job.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>There's so much I could say, and yet I feel like words wouldn't do it justice. Do I mention the fact that we believe that God brought us out here solely for this school, this team? Do I mention that we were on the fast track out of here until the coaching job opened up? Do I mention that it's been his DREAM, DESIRE to coach at THIS school?</div><div><br /></div><div>Or do I mention the hundreds, perhaps thousands of hours spent pouring over film, creating plays, talking to the boys, dedicating his life to kids who looked up to him like a father, just as he had HIS high school coach?</div><div><br /></div><div>In the end it doesn't matter WHAT I say. "They" made a decision. Who "they" is we have a pretty good guess at, and "Why" and even better guess. And it has nothing to do with the wins and the losses. Because not enough people have backbones, and don't stand up for what is right, people who care less about what is good and more about what they want won today. They got what they wanted, at the cost of a man who gave nothing but his all. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not sure where we go from here, what we do. I do know that regardless of whether they find another coach, and even if that coach wins games...they will never find ANYONE who cared as much as Jim, who put in the hours he believed necessary to do the best for the team, regardless of what anyone else thinks.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am proud to be a coach's wife. And I stand behind my man.</div>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-63365228838347603492010-11-07T15:19:00.007-05:002010-11-07T15:44:55.371-05:00Always Something New<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZxmYQQG2kzWSjOtlUE8vfClEiYU9oaAVoHWtmYCeHYzxbGWm3lUPXTPgAnWRIj3Jibfj1JDKi5VY87Jroj7TOQFKsUdXJabXqovm7ZDZF8gwdV71HhecEVdCRPVzlEhGWEPE/s1600/slip2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZxmYQQG2kzWSjOtlUE8vfClEiYU9oaAVoHWtmYCeHYzxbGWm3lUPXTPgAnWRIj3Jibfj1JDKi5VY87Jroj7TOQFKsUdXJabXqovm7ZDZF8gwdV71HhecEVdCRPVzlEhGWEPE/s320/slip2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536907143470262546" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I know it's been awhile, AGAIN, since I last blogged. But for the sake of excuses, I'd rather have something TO blog about, than to chat on about nothing in particular.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I promised pictures of my next idea - I've got something even better - the finished product! Here are some recent pieces I'll be adding to Etsy soon:</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv4HM7JVSoAVg5xvNmgvZdXN2N1tD0DyhGkLA70W3RiMKhBZkDG_2G2S_9-SugUMhId0Bg0ISePJEdgiFO0WgMqTfXC02_tFlFRSv9hELFvjczsHiTUr6qMH8GQAkL08JQSPI_/s320/64441_1587859412201_1107281326_31688911_5450987_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536907120009468994" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>These are two pregnant women in yoga-like poses, gazing down at their blossoming bellies.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_yGE13QwbmWe1Em8MptSDnkjf5yePShCvgoatXmtUEE1E_8dS6WFdj3OV8d4iaXz3LkGo8vJPBEomNiQbmpNY3ze13CWhRwb61iet0xZdhXXOko6OF8tAkmbe-v6WMLMoqhT/s320/59606_1587861612256_1107281326_31688928_3992944_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 294px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536906821974947282" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>Another two pregnant bellies, this time with just the torso and a hint of appendixes. Both glazed, one clear, the other a Blue Rutile, though I was disappointed that no blue showed up.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibnYRj32TUsZ9tflXQ1Q-KcgqPYxrLaw9UWo8gFWrC2AraayxkpkbWnRZ6B4DSMDM1x3OmIQhzBuOSpELGT0eKUgZsCXvxqLr5re7oSlS6_QCEjwHNtvTmRBucXkEoAWttbzAT/s320/64850_1587862732284_1107281326_31688936_7544657_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536907123075662178" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>Two more bellies with carved designs and smoke fired. The profile of the tree of life one is below:</div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfoOQE9MwVIp-XgpAvpAbcC2ayE4_fY4TmBwuVd7H3BP4iQX_IvokwJXov62eDESrX7lS018cSZS5nP_Ngg2toVr60A7wUV8yzuWbPRtQUOwBy4GRBeJkvX8KP-gTW2RlisGOt/s320/64874_1587863492303_1107281326_31688942_7028441_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536907132038204498" /><div><div style="text-align: center;">This is an idea I'd like to expand on - women in labor. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNA3H70k8YvHg_nlGPn1CdgZs-KzOqJ8enmEkmH5qwLgxdHb6m8TEOchiDUnIEAOKEYH9jGWEDrXXN-EK3CxI9WsDnT-NWTLc_140JpngcsHAB6jXilqmYrE5e3LigYETrOaTY/s320/64018_1587861252247_1107281326_31688925_8384371_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536906824815763218" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiALeWurmWsJ1pTYMG7aROyCIgfv2-8gigR7XdHtzlJMGf0A4yQvsZvGyxdgSjDnH_uhBsxCF5JuB3tQBnTPu-VEvRuckXgkUC2M5XU1EIxAHIc3d9SZUPqbOu8U0jxjAK3sq_a/s320/58111_1587861012241_1107281326_31688923_7515537_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536906816278133218" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And here are some necklaces that I played around with:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW2vHx9MmWHB7n54HXbDw-6i0LNbQNc0O_3Nh7zrlE2A00ks-fQ3_7mCUYzLScLiDJQHc4dmKptJT2bwgMqe2G6O2D9TpzXgM4zK3pLbNatrWWLfbfKBEYnXpYKq9tNYbyzNHK/s320/39575_1587862572280_1107281326_31688935_4434995_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536906811334717106" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The mothers above are my original designs of attachment parenting concepts.<br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZAJOK-pEAJqTFI9EM1J5MrU0cfGExkAFfaHaAh0EHNm49-Pax72OheNQjRu_rwaJwcF_fDRUKm_0r9SM7SQfqtUp2fv5VAR-Ye_FhAXQgYYt4ZutfsF6F3uXfkfJ6vdRyvim/s320/34688_1587860532229_1107281326_31688919_2304016_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536906806918882322" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNfZEjEovUdkF1CYa5LGKlvitQB6etZzY5KsDySQW_fi2uWb03uhX4A5sdI1KudJwClj3e4GFQv6bnCJtp9CDW3N67-jj7OSg2V9GD-Vn2UtQrLitn_HPXlagujtSmCf2qbej/s320/65319_1587861452252_1107281326_31688927_6134153_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536907136510130210" />And lastly, I promise to try to get past my fear of screwing up and start getting my hands messy more often. I have a ton of ideas brewing in my head, none of which are even remotely close to the ideas in this post. Some are great for the ren faire, and some I'm hoping are great for anytime. But the point is, I won't know until I try. So try, I will.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This last picture is of my colored porcelain (mixed with mason stains) soaking in water to become slip. I really want to try sgraffito and other slip methods with these. So here's to not giving up. See you very soon!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-42206539042711833132010-04-20T14:14:00.002-04:002010-04-20T14:34:07.480-04:00So much in one year!Wow - I can't believe I haven't posted anything in a whole year! I CAN say it'a been a great one :)<div><br /></div><div>The twins are getting so big right now, almost 3. Becca still is a princess at heart and loves to change outfits and shoes all the time. Logan is ALL boy - running, climbing, jumping, and full of energy. Caleb is still my caring, yet questioning, young man, and Amber is my ever-sweet young lady, who is learning to read already!</div><div><br /></div><div>And me? I'm doing mostly fine :)</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm gotten back into my clay, even selling ocarinas at the local medieval faire last fall, and hopefully again this summer. I've also done a LOT of searching my heart on the other matters I've written about here.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can to a point once again where I was trusting men to be faithful (men here meaning "mankind" or humans in general - not the male species of humans.) And once again, they failed me. And I thought that God was not worth it if these are the kind of people who serve Him.</div><div><br /></div><div>But ironically, while watching the movie "Into the Wild" I couldn't ignore God plainly telling me that it IS in the communication with people that we grow, and that we need to be. Even imperfect people, which we all are.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so I am. I am imperfect, and will be. And I still don't know where God has called me to be, but I'm hoping that each step I take is where He is, anyway, and He'll still use me there. In my clay, in my circle of crunchy women, in my neighborhood, and even with the lonely Amish woman whose husband is an alcoholic and now they've been shunned.</div><div><br /></div><div>I still don't have all the answers, and even more questions. But I think that's okay. If God is who He says He is, then I don't need to know it all in order to bring His love to everyone I meet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have learned not to be so critical or judgmental (Oh, I still have plenty of opinions!) But I try to see it from other people's perspective. My way isn't always the best, but I am confident it's the best for me. And I can't make people believe in God or trust in Him. I have to trust that He will call them in His own time, and in the meantime I can only live the best I can and LOVE ON EVERYONE. </div><div><br /></div><div>Stopping abortions doesn't change lives. Taking away condoms doesn't change lives. But loving people ALWAYS changes lives. </div><div><br /></div><div>In some small way, me caring about women, and babies, and nursing, and co-sleeping, and friendship...these all tie in with what God wants for us to be as people. Loving, caring, and representing His love to each other.</div><div><br /></div><div>I firmly believe, and I know many will disagree, that attachment parenting best represents the love God has for his people. If not, then frankly I DON'T want to be part of His family. Why would I want to worship someone who doesn't love me with everything He has? But he does, and he did, and he will...</div><div><br /></div><div>I also don't think that the Sandra Dodd websites were helping me much. They were lost in their own self-righteous world of do's and don'ts, though they may not see it that way.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm floating by for now, and Amber is not that old, and maybe at some point I will add curiculum. But for now we're doing what works for us. And that's fine.</div><div><br /></div><div>And maybe next year I gain new insights, and change my ideas about some things, and that's okay, too.</div><div><br /></div><div>I would also like to point out that I made many new friends in 2009. I met a bunch of wonderful women through my midwife up in Erie, and the biggest downside is that they live an hour away. But it's so refreshing to have other women who parent like me who I can talk to without being defensive or sounding odd. The only downside is that I'm afraid they would think less of me if I explained that the reason I don't go to the labyrinths and such with them is that I feel odd being a Christian and doing those things. I'm not even sure they are wrong for me, but for now they feel so, and so I stay away. But I love these women dearly, and I am grateful for them daily.</div><div><br /></div><div>I also made a group of friends at a small Bible study with Joyce, and these girls are the first group of CHRISTIAN women I've felt at home with. I think because they all admit they aren't perfect, either.</div><div><br /></div><div>And lastly, we lost a dear friend last year, our dear tom cat Cebu. He was almost 11 years old, when he got a small scratch from another cat that I didn't notice until too late. They had to perform surgery on him, and besides having blood poisoning already, he never woke up when they were done. That morning he was playful and happy, and it was the last thing we ever expected to happen, and my heart still mourns for him. He is dearly missed, even though we ended up getting a new kitten from my in-laws.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that pretty much sums up 2009. It was overall a year of growth and happiness, with a little bit of life thrown in for good measure.</div>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-51007755836755533212009-01-28T10:37:00.003-05:002009-01-28T18:24:23.163-05:00Full CircleIt's amazing when you hear God's voice. It's amazing when <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">*I*</span> hear God's voice. Not audibly, like the big booming voice of Darth Vader declaring, "I AM YOUR FATHER!"...though I have often wished that God <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">did</span> talk to me in such a way.<div><br /></div><div>No, the way God talks to me is in more subtle ways, using other people and their words to reach into my heart and confirm or answer my searching questions.</div><div><br /></div><div>*************</div><div><br /></div><div>When I was in high school, I had my first experience of encountering God. Oh, I had grown up with Him in my life before that. From the time I came into this world my parents were praying over me, for me, and as soon as I could talk, with me. But I had never experienced what some would call a conversion. I accepted Jesus into my heart when I was just a few years old, in the innocent way only a child can. Without understanding theology or reason or even right and wrong, I knew that I wanted to go to this wonderful place called Heaven when I died, and so I raised my hand along with several other young children that day.</div><div><br /></div><div>But it wasn't until years later that I began wrestling with the idea of an all-powerful, all-knowing God that created this universe and has invited me to share it with Him. But my first questions didn't come in the form of intelligent mind-bending paradigms...it came from the heart.</div><div><br /></div><div>**************</div><div><br /></div><div>Placed in a private, Christian school with an average of 30 per class grade, I was quickly designated to the lonely <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">position</span> of "outcast." With my unruly curly hair, an apparently something else I couldn't define, I was an easy target. For the next 8 years I endured bullying, teasing, and just plain <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">exclusiveness</span> from other children. But that all changed drastically when I entered high school.</div><div><br /></div><div>Switching to a public school of over 200 in my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">graduating</span> class, I was terrified on my first day. Thoughts of standing in the cafeteria as table after table of students refused to share a seat with me filled my mind, and I was almost paralyzed when I walked onto the school bus. But it only took one day for me to realize what 8 years had not: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">It was NOT about me.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Not one student ever made fun of me in the four years I attended that high school, save one who made fun of everybody, and thus was also the brunt of many jokes himself. In fact, I made many friends and had the best time of my life as I enjoyed different classes and extra-curricular activities. I would gladly relive those years of my life over again.</div><div><br /></div><div>But this presented a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">dilemma</span>. Eight years I had been surrounded by claimed Christians, most of whom attended the same church I did. Eight years I had been made fun of, shunned, and hurt. And as soon as I entered into the wider, relatively "un" Christian realm, I was treated with kindness, fairness, and joy. Not that these people were perfect, but if you had to guess which ones were going to heaven based on their behviour and treatment of people, you'd definitely have to take the second group. (Does the part of scripture where Jesus says, "I never knew you" ring a bell here?)</div><div><br /></div><div>So what was I to think of this God - whose "children" persecuted me and whose "enemies" welcomed me with open arms? I had seen and heard too much of Him to believe that He did NOT exist. That was too much of a leap for me. But there was one thing I could easily believe - that He either didn't know *<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">I</span>* existed, or He didn't care. Either one, for me, was a deal-breaker. If that's the kind of God that wanted me in Heaven, I'd rather, frankly, be in Hell. And I wasn't kidding.</div><div><br /></div><div>So...I made a deal with Him. If He wanted me to be a Christian, then He'd have to touch me in some way, to really let me know that He cared about <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">ME</span>, that He loved me. Otherwise, I would no longer call myself a Christian...</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, I won't go into details with the rest of the story, because I have more to tell, but let's just say that a visiting pastor mentionted that some people at the service that day "needed a touch from God" and to come up to be prayed for. It was the first time I had ever done so since I was a kid, and the words he prayed over me let me know that God did, indeed, know I was here...</div><div><br /></div><div>***********</div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward several years. I had been through the gamut of church services where people erupted in laughter, singing, and falling down, all in the name of God. I wanted desperately to feel what I saw around me, but never really submitted to whatever it was that was going on. </div><div><br /></div><div>The breaking point came when one woman at our church told about her vision of a laughing Jesus...that he looked like a clown, and she was able to laugh. For her it opened up a new way of relating to Jesus instead of the stern, unmoving figure she was used to picturing. But to many in the church, her story bordered not only on the rediculus, but on the blasphemus.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thankfully, at the time, I was away at college. But back home, my church family, which I had known for almost 15 years, split apart. Most stayed, but many went in several directions. My own parents visited many churches for years afterwards, looking for a place they could call "home" as much as they had once called this church home. It broke my heart when I would visit at home and had to attend different churches where no one or very few knew me, but worse, it shook my foundation of faith.</div><div><br /></div><div>********</div><div><br /></div><div>When my first daughter was born, we were attending a church we loved very much. We had friends, and the doctrine was sound, and I truly believe that we found a family of believers that walked and not just talked. But soon the questions would start forming in my own journey to becoming closer to God.</div><div><br /></div><div>Raising Amber, I learned several things. But the most important was that the things she required was, in many circles of Christianity, considered odd, bad parenting, or at worst just plain wrong. I nursed her on demand and often. I slept with her in our bed, and carried her all the time so she didn't cry. I was, in short, attachment parenting. I would not wean her anytime soon, or move her to her own bed and room, or put her down to "cry it out" ever.</div><div><br /></div><div>But articles from Focus on the Family or shows on the local Christian radio station would point out these very things as being less than the parent God had designed me to be. I thought hard about it, I prayed, and I searched my deepest being. If what I was doing was so wrong, why did I feel that it was the way God planned things to be?? I understand that you can not depend on feelings alone to make wise decisions, but how else was I to know what God wanted me to do? The Bible didn't have any verses about co-sleeping or child-led weaning...</div><div><br /></div><div>A few years ago, while pregnant with the twins, I read Rob Bell's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Velvet Elvis</span>. It changed my life. Now some may say "The Bible should do that for you, not some book." But let me explain. He finally put into words all the things my heart was thinking, and wondering. He talked about a God that wants more than anything to love the world that He created. That our focus as Christians shouldn't be less about showing people their sin, and more about showing them God's love through us. The New Testament Christians were in service to those around them. And the ones that act like modern day evangelicals, arguing about theology and bragging about who is more holy? They're the ones admonished in the epistles. And yet here we stand, pushing people away from God with our self-righteous standards and holier-than-thou attitudes, and we neglect the very people God passionately desires to be with. We act like we are the fortunate ones who were smart enough to accept Christ, and the rest of the world, well, fooey on them. But that's NOT how God sees it...The Bible says He rejoices more over the one lost sheep than all the sheep He already has. Maybe Christianity isn't what I've thought it was all these years...keeping track of the "rights" and the "wrongs", worrying about the proper interpretation of scripture, of the dogma we all knew but never understood. We treat the Bible as if <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">IT</span> were the god...as if it wasn't written by human hands. I read one man claim that the Bible speaks for itself as being infalible. Oh, then I guess THAT cinches it. I DO believe the Bible to be the Word of God, and I believe it is INSPIRED by God. But I believe humans wrote it, and that we can't claim to know what every word's intent was, or how much was written as story vs. hard fact. (There ARE things we can know, but whether Jonah was a true story or just a story....that kind of thing)</div><div><br /></div><div>Then I read <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Blue Like Jazz</span> by Donald Miller. Again, the idea that God is actively seeking for a relationship with us...that He's not just sitting on His throne judging me, but that He's actually courting me, wooing me...and that my job is to love everyone around me, unconditionally...something not truly practiced in most churchs...(you've heard it..."but they're gay"..."she's getting an abortion - the murderer!"..."he swears and smokes and drinks...") Did Jesus run away from these people, or did He befriend them? (the verse about coming for the sick, not the healthy, comes to mind.)</div><div><br /></div><div>But the most imporant thing is that as I turned to unschooling as a way of raising my children, continuing on the journey they began at birth, I learned even more principles about how to model the relationship God wants with us. We don't have to train our children to obey us, as most Christians believe. We think that obeying means trusting, but it doesn't. You can obey someone out of fear, which is what most of us are taught to do. If a child doenn't obey, they are spanked. This teaches a child that if they don't respond a certain way, they will be hurt. It does NOT teach them to trust the person hitting them.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the other hand, if we show our children that we intend good things for them, that our goal is to make them happy, then when we DO say no, they are far more likely to listen because they TRUST that we have THEIR interest at heart, not OUR HIDDEN AGENDA. True trust comes from love. </div><div><br /></div><div>And the point hit home with me just this week. I have been questioning the "why's" of life and death and several people in our community have lost loved ones tragically this last year. And I have been fearful about losing my own loved ones. And someone suggested the book <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Shack</span> by William P. Young.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">I. Love. It.</span> The first sentence that I cried at was this, "You don't believe that I love you, so you <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">cannot</span> trust me."</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's it. That's the core. I have never truly believed that God. Loves. Me. Sure, it's the gospel message. Sure, that's what you always HEAR. But I never saw it modeled out - not by Christians, anyway. I always lived in fear that if I did the wrong thing, God would strike me down. I had to learn all the rules of living "the right way." Don't do this. Do this. Don't do that. And if I messed up, I knew that God would be disappointed. And yes, there is difinitely truth in that. But we somehow missed the part that emphasises how much God loves us...me. That no matter WHAT I do, He'll still love me. No matter how I am right now, He still loves me.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the same way I love my children, even when they screw up, God loves me. Even when my kids are dirty, smelly, or less than happy. I still would die for them in a heartbeat. Like Jesus did for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can have a relationship with my children that is give-give. I don't need to demand their obedience. I can serve them out of love, and naturally, they will want to serve back (I know it sounds contrary to what we were told...but that's just it. How do WE feel when someone serves us? We want to repay them with kindness...it's the way God desgined it!)</div><div><br /></div><div>And then I saw <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRfoVc3zCa4&feature=related">this video</a> with Rob Bell, and I cried some more. It's not that God will keep storms out of my life, but He will still be there, like a father, holding me closer than ever...and that's how I'll get through it. It's not just that He's God, and He knows best. It's that He love ME, and wants ME to be happy. If I truly, really, believe that, then I can trust Him when the unthinkable happens.</div><div><br /></div><div>When Amber broke her arm, she squeeled out the words, "Oh, WHY?" in pain...and though I couldn't have prevented the break (technically speaking, I could wrap her in bubble wrap, but that is not living - same with out lives in this world), I WILL be there for her to help her as the arm heals. Her arm will never be the same as it was unbroken, but where the bone fused, it is now stronger. And so our faith with God can be stronger after a tragedy, if we trust Him, if we believe He loves us...</div><div><br /></div><div>And though there are a TON of people out there criticizing Rob Bell, Donald Miller, and now William Young, I am one who has been touched by the idea that have allowed me to think outside the religious box I put God in. That I now see Him as someone interested in ME, and MY LIFE...and that Loving is more important than Getting It Right...</div><div><br /></div><div>I've finally come back to the place where I started. If You love me God, then touch me...and He has.</div>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-41136741799926392412009-01-05T10:29:00.002-05:002009-01-05T10:50:42.481-05:00Looking ForwardIt's a New Year. And I'm looking forward to all the things this year will bring. <div><br /></div><div>Our Christmas was pretty good. In fact, Pumpkin claimed it was the "best Christmas EVER!!" which is pretty telling, in her 6 years of red and green...</div><div><br /></div><div>We stayed home vs. traveling to my parents, as we had traveled for Thanksgiving. When the babies are older, we'll try to make it out for both holidays, again, but for now it was nice staying here and just relaxing. </div><div><br /></div><div>We got Rugger a 10$ "rock" guitar with strings to strum, since his bango guitar had broke. He loves it, and I'm glad we didn't get the $30 real guitar which he wouldn't have been able to play, yet, anyway.</div><div><br /></div><div>The best thing we got Pumpkin was two little play sets - one a pony with an oven and baked goods, and the other three little zoo animals with a house. She said it was just what she wanted. :)</div><div><br /></div><div>We even had a New Year's Eve party at my in-laws and Pumpkin stayed up to watch the ball drop, which didn't impress her, of course. But we all enjoyed playing pool and eating junk food.</div><div><br /></div><div>We had a surprise of sorts, which also was a little sad. Friends of ours lost their beautiful newborn daughter less than two weeks after she was born, due to a cord accident in the womb. The father's family purchases season tickets to the Buffalo Bills home games, and since they were all still grieving, they offered the tickets to us and we brought another coaching couple with us to the game.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was fitting of Buffalo - cold and very windy. Boom had only ever been to two other Bills games at the stadium, both in crappy weather against New England, and both losses. This was no exception :)</div><div><br /></div><div>BUT, the tickets were BOX SEATS!!! Soooo, we were indoors, warm and cozy, and one of the highlights for me was watching a fan run onto the field only to be taken off by 5 security guards who escorted him to the waiting judge below the stadium. I never knew there was a judge during NFL games...you learn something everyday.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's amazing to watch the kids grow. Birdie has liked baby dolls and stuffed animals for awhile, now, but she's also getting into playsets with little people and animals, driving them in their cars or sitting in their chairs. She reminds me so much of her older sister, who used to set up little scenes in the most unusual places all over the house. I'd be walking by the TV or sink only to find a dinosaur staring up at me, his latest kill still stuck in his jaws....</div><div><br /></div><div>Booger on the other hand is fixated on buttons to push and things to open and close, not a good combination for all things electronic and expensive around here...</div><div><br /></div><div>Birdie also loves reading. The only downside is that Birdie is the more agressive of the twins (something she proved during her birth) and will push Booger away every time she wants something or doesn't want him to touch what she has. Booger, unfortunately, just runs off and cries for help.</div><div><br /></div><div>Overall, this is a fun stage, though the house is always a mess. I pick things up only to see them scattered again tenfold...and that's the way it will be for awhile.</div><div><br /></div><div>But hopefully by this year's end, I will have gotten back into my clay, possibly won some money from <a href="http://www.puttyworld.com/">Crazy Aaron's Thinking Putty</a>, tried a used treadmill, and had lots and lots of fun playing and learning with my kids :)</div>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-52462477748815980332008-12-31T00:27:00.002-05:002008-12-31T00:47:52.279-05:00Over the RainbowAs I sit here listening to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Over the Rainbow"</span> from the soundtrack to the movie <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">50 First Dates</span> I can't help but picture the ending scene where Drew Barrymore is looking out over the sea with the mountains in the backdrop and the sails aloft on the sunny, breezy morning....and I love this song and the way it makes me feel.<div><br /></div><div>I've been down again today. We had a great Christmas, and I'm looking forward to the New Year, with a "real" party for New Year's Eve, no less. But there's three things I have been thinking about:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Death - </span></div><div>In days past, and not so very far away, death was accepted as part of life. It was expected, even. Most families had more children who died than lived, and to grow old with a spouse was almost unheard of. To grow old in general is something that very few did. But in our time, in this country, we view life as a right everyone deserves, and to a ripe old age. When people die, we talk about them being "stolen" from us. And in a way, they are. But only because we have the view that it is normal to expect them to be with us forever, or until the "normal" time for dying comes...around 90, maybe?</div><div><br /></div><div>But death IS a part of life. Even God must see death somewhat differently from us, as He killed many people without much of a thought in the Old Testament. I can be comforted, though, that Jesus mourned both for Lazerus and for John the Baptist. This means that when it is my time to face death or loss, my sadness won't be unexpected. And yet, I hope that I can also see that it is a part of our human fate. That I have no right to expect happiness all of my days. I will welcome the joyous times, no doubt. But to think that harm will pass me by is careless and a form of denial.</div><div><br /></div><div>Someday, I, too, will mourn. I hope it is not soon, and I can only pray that when it does happen that God holds me up. For there are some things that I will never understand this side of Heaven...</div><div><br /></div><div>The second thing I've been pondering is:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Confidence - </span></div><div><br /></div><div>Why is it that I can't be confident in who I am? Who God made me to be? Part of it is that I'm always second guessing who that person is. Or who that person is SUPPOSED to be...Am I doing what God wants me to do? Being who He wants me to be? Or am I missing the mark?</div><div><br /></div><div>I look for other people who I feel comfortable with, and as I am around them I begin to think that they have all the answers. So I try to be as much like them as possible. And yet I fall short. And so when another group of my friends get together, and I know they are smart and well-rounded individuals whom I respect and like, I feel out of place because of the ideas I present from my other group of friens. This group feels differently, and I feel on the "outs." I want to be accepted by both groups, but find I fall just short in both arenas.</div><div><br /></div><div>It appears that despite my desire to fit in and be accepted, I still stand apart. And yet that's okay, too. But it would be nice if I had people come up to me and say, "You know...not only do I think that what you are doing is great, I think it's so great I want to do it too!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I want that pat on the back that says I'm doing a good job. That people like me. That I am okay. Funny how grade-school ostracism never strays too far from the ego...</div><div><br /></div><div>Part of me is okay with who I am. Confident that my children are doing well. But the other part says I'm a failure at everything I do. Good enough but not outstanding...</div><div><br /></div><div>Which leads me to the last thing on my mind:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Art for the Sake of Fun - </span></div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't touched my clay in forever. But I haven't even touched my needle felting. Not for lack of time. Or ideas. But for fear. Fear of failing. Fear of wasting money. Fear of falling short.</div><div><br /></div><div>I spent a lot of money on the materials for needle felting, and I haven't done that good of a job on it. Of course, the best way to learn is to practice, and yet if I practice just for the sake of practicing, then I feel like I'm wasting all that money. I want to make things that "count." Toys for the kids, gifts for friends, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">something worth something.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>It's a reflection of my life. I want to make something that the world sees as worth. I want kids that people think are well-raised. A home that looks well-kept. A craft that looks well-made. Conversation that sounds well-thought.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can't seem to accept God's seal of approval for the fact that I'm just <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">me</span>. That my hubby loves me and thinks I work hard and come up with great ideas for crafting. That my kids love me.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so as I listen to this music, I think about the things that are good in my life. And it truly is a wonderful world I live in. There's enough negativity out there, and I don't need to search for it.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the positive...there's SO much of that, too. And though on some days it's hard to find, when I look it's hard to miss. And I think, I truly think, that if you could weigh the good against the bad, I'd still come out on the good side.</div><div><br /></div><div>There's still a lot of bad to work out. But God isn't finished with me yet. He's still smoothing out the sides and gently burnishing the sharper points on me. I look forward to seeing what changes He'll bring in 2008...</div>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-55723551438881519962008-12-17T23:07:00.002-05:002008-12-17T23:14:21.931-05:00It Just Keeps ComingLast week's headlines in our local paper told the story of a trio consisting of an angry ex-wife, her brother, and their friend who conspired to kill her ex-husband in cold blood, leaving his sons to find his dead body on the back porch when they got home from school. Apparently the killer also practiced on their pet dog before shooting the father.<div><br /></div><div>Today in front of Boom's high school a fed-ex truck slid sideways causing another car to run full-on into it, and a tracker trailer tipped over trying to avoid the accident. The young man, only 22, driving the car was killed. The son of a family we're friends with, who happen to also be homeschoolers, I can't even imagine what his mother and siblings are feeling tonight. </div><div><br /></div><div>And for the whole season. This year, for so many, 2008 will be a Christmas they will never forget. But for all the wrong reasons. And I'm having a hard time not getting down about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So the best I can do is be thankful for my family. Live in the moment and know that I didn't waste even a day. Because if my daughter dies when she turns two, I'll know that those two years weren't spent "training" her to be an adult, but appreciating her for who she is now. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll know that I didn't let my children fear if they didn't have to, or cry if I could help it. Yes, there have been times of fear and several tears shed. But not because I forced them to cry it out in a dark room while longing for me. Not because I force them to obey arbitrary rules just "because I said so."</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, more than ever, I am thankful that I am on the unschooling journey in our lives. Not just accademically, but whole living. I have so much joy in my life right now with my children and husband. I cherish them completely, and am glad for each new day with them...</div>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-42167230664142904992008-12-12T00:10:00.004-05:002008-12-12T00:23:46.482-05:00Tis' the SeasonThis year I have so much to be thankful for. Unfortunately, I wish I could say the same for many of my friends and family.<br /><br />A couple very close to us not only split up, leaving the kids wondering why, but one of them now has another person in their love life, which means they probably won't be working this problem out. I feel awful for our friends, and even more awful for their kids, who are already showing physical problems of stress (wetting pants at school...)<br /><br />Another couple celebrated the birth of their beautiful daughter last Sunday after Thanksgiving, only to find out less than 24 hours later that something went wrong and she started suffering seizures which ultimately cost her her life just last evening. She was declared brain dead less than 48 hours after she was born, and struggled to live just over a week after that so her parents could hold her and say goodbye. She was their firstborn, and instead of celebrating her first Christmas, they are planning her funeral...<br /><br />Another family lost a wife, daughter, sister and friend as a woman gave birth and then suffered blood loss and eventually died leaving behind her husband and firstborn daughter. She was younger than I am and Boom was friends with her in school, and she taught at the local elementary school in the area...<br /><br />I've been trying to get a hold of my old best friend from high school and college. Her name is very common and I haven't been able to track her down in years. But I ran into luck by finding her sister on Facebook. However, the cell phone number I called and left a message at hasn't returned my call, and the sister claims she's looking for an e-mail address but had just been busy. The thing is is that she's gone to movies, hung out with friends, and regularly posts to facebook, so I'm not sure is she just can't find the e-mail or doesn't ever talk to her sister to get it from her, of if my friend is avoiding me.<br /><br />I really hope she's not because for some reason that hurts more than it should....<br /><br />But we are doing really good here ourselves, and I am grateful. The twins are just as wonderful as the older two are, and I'm having so much fun with them, though I am constantly chasing them around and having to remove them from danger and clean up all.the.time!<br /><br />I made some laptops for the older two out of coldpress board:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidfxOSzxoK9oCIioWnRWJTEyPuHqtJ-mt8tK7xOYjRQpm1sSZh_-Z_MJGtRKpt6rhM5h7QOBCU3O1E3DXtc5RGgi9lxhx215jbE4hqoGk_ynuwmjxMSZiKT42M2Bbj96naNrAi/s1600-h/100_4197.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidfxOSzxoK9oCIioWnRWJTEyPuHqtJ-mt8tK7xOYjRQpm1sSZh_-Z_MJGtRKpt6rhM5h7QOBCU3O1E3DXtc5RGgi9lxhx215jbE4hqoGk_ynuwmjxMSZiKT42M2Bbj96naNrAi/s320/100_4197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278766941133312546" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyHI_BYl_O7gqpzvp0O3ZSinWMIImbNyg4rL_aybTfx-M9JSgQdNZnTJVWyEEsFEakp6KvNhWN9oenCToKpzFlUkgccdKEAov6B4_cmvW6kCqgGUj_L-WK9qHee-HOVoh-T3x/s1600-h/100_4198.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyHI_BYl_O7gqpzvp0O3ZSinWMIImbNyg4rL_aybTfx-M9JSgQdNZnTJVWyEEsFEakp6KvNhWN9oenCToKpzFlUkgccdKEAov6B4_cmvW6kCqgGUj_L-WK9qHee-HOVoh-T3x/s320/100_4198.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278766949134365010" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The screen is just printed on paper and I have acetate in front of it. I like them, anyway :)<br /><br />It amazes me how much these kids pick up things. Rugger notices every last detail in everything, even my parents' bedroom - the little lamp on their bedstand - when he hardly even goes into a room. And today Pumpkin was serving "Burger King" food and only had fries but Rugger wanted chicken nuggets. I told her that that WAS his order, he's not asking for the french fries she has. So she blurts out, "Well, we're fresh out of them, so NOW what do you want?" I'm guessing Sponge Bob was where she picked that up, but I have no idea! LOL!!!<br /><br />I look forward to this Christmas, and I pray for comfort for those that can't.Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-35688252872804163842008-11-01T00:11:00.003-04:002008-11-01T00:26:09.703-04:00Trick-Or-Treat!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;">HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-mGmrbKkt_Ss8cobLX5uNqoVfGmTIY0nBFZPzMs7O9zJyaRlkM9NVtfNXscJU9c1iYsrZopw1k-YA5YX-FMPMNAGp57iWSNIzJZwwBYuhdvECzD50NOqCvcosEZgTLPXgVlp/s1600-h/100_4118.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-mGmrbKkt_Ss8cobLX5uNqoVfGmTIY0nBFZPzMs7O9zJyaRlkM9NVtfNXscJU9c1iYsrZopw1k-YA5YX-FMPMNAGp57iWSNIzJZwwBYuhdvECzD50NOqCvcosEZgTLPXgVlp/s320/100_4118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263539184546021618" border="0" /></a><br />Here are my two most favorite pumpkins that I carved this year. I told you, I'm enjoying trying new things! The top one I got from a book Pumpkin checked out of the library. The bottom one is my own idea.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPZhbtR44ATklMUMs5sLh_k1XfRKK4lR27PIKt6T7zIJfHfEWRDwhLUjyA20Fu5m3unnVx0wAIMjf9fynoJQ_-d9fjPJtg_F48X1rPqQwtMNMmPvmHgxzNXv6-E2OPGH1-yQP/s1600-h/100_4121.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPZhbtR44ATklMUMs5sLh_k1XfRKK4lR27PIKt6T7zIJfHfEWRDwhLUjyA20Fu5m3unnVx0wAIMjf9fynoJQ_-d9fjPJtg_F48X1rPqQwtMNMmPvmHgxzNXv6-E2OPGH1-yQP/s320/100_4121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263538157994871282" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Tonight (I know it says it's November 1st, but that's only because I'm up past midnight...) we went trick-or-treating. And at the last minute, I decided to dress up too!<br /><br />This was the first year, ever, in my whole life, that I dressed up. I was going to go as a fairy, since I have a good skirt and I could borrow Pumpkin's wings. But they didn't fit well and when I mentioned to a friend that I'd love to have Pumpkin's pirate costume (which I got at the Outpost - our church's hand-me-down place) she said she had some stuff that I could use and so I became a pirate! Which spurred Rugger to become one two and she brought some of her son's old stuff over for him.<br /><br />Birdie is a fairy and Booger is a train engineer.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3r82C_3vxDOkURznHIowRS5i77vS_slaz7GDXzQ-1-BVdCQVL8TsY6zTVTonzdKDtiZ93yziCVQ-UhzqZlvn6i17gihCHvOOrdvATtE4Zpl0nVzeYfzvK8I581cdXlOmYKAsf/s1600-h/100_4101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3r82C_3vxDOkURznHIowRS5i77vS_slaz7GDXzQ-1-BVdCQVL8TsY6zTVTonzdKDtiZ93yziCVQ-UhzqZlvn6i17gihCHvOOrdvATtE4Zpl0nVzeYfzvK8I581cdXlOmYKAsf/s320/100_4101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263539202333801666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPDtz4_-1zgcB2h4wIHaBR_DiOJNN9Q0RBMwK-QMx5l87B93X4N3VLU4gxjFngULJbLJkfZqpmMRwITI5EuBS6Jr1gGq6CvB6DAjdsayCDUN52IY4aLdMmsk9uUWCPNMY-rLtx/s1600-h/100_4104.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPDtz4_-1zgcB2h4wIHaBR_DiOJNN9Q0RBMwK-QMx5l87B93X4N3VLU4gxjFngULJbLJkfZqpmMRwITI5EuBS6Jr1gGq6CvB6DAjdsayCDUN52IY4aLdMmsk9uUWCPNMY-rLtx/s320/100_4104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263539195435044082" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-bLLt7K7_SEpZKujm9dtqv_o25yqIssvwgqDhAh-xPJEKxvhfYNr7AQavTZWYDQFySim203pdKT_ZzbxxhOtYXVlqs-vXemLYV78SmTg6_iObzbJui3Hcg54QjICuxCXXwjB/s1600-h/100_4112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-bLLt7K7_SEpZKujm9dtqv_o25yqIssvwgqDhAh-xPJEKxvhfYNr7AQavTZWYDQFySim203pdKT_ZzbxxhOtYXVlqs-vXemLYV78SmTg6_iObzbJui3Hcg54QjICuxCXXwjB/s320/100_4112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263539189622010002" border="0" /></a><br />Rugger tried on the pants, boots, and belt I was planning on wearing,<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPaLBb30QG4vVYI8Nze2vFqEZYn4aUQk-HTcquHAwltixWxVgn9RPyWtk2A7oQDDnmwU85c-UkW670sdiLPG7k44UHfw6F6hyjpmCdp3mIZ8ds-PPZerrw0aQ1ftrST2i0efD/s1600-h/100_4125.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPaLBb30QG4vVYI8Nze2vFqEZYn4aUQk-HTcquHAwltixWxVgn9RPyWtk2A7oQDDnmwU85c-UkW670sdiLPG7k44UHfw6F6hyjpmCdp3mIZ8ds-PPZerrw0aQ1ftrST2i0efD/s320/100_4125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263538150923201282" border="0" /></a><br />So I got him another shirt and pants he could wear,<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWwoSw32S0bOh7wcaHX7GiKfSOvoLTiX7TIs0gp5QPJZrmejeV0c-HR5ogkbduY5H3bBgVrYnNvxV8w2QM_1dPEqoIO1LGAK1BkvMou1bnyCBhBgUdSZ-2EITUH9d9huCURxi/s1600-h/100_4128.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWwoSw32S0bOh7wcaHX7GiKfSOvoLTiX7TIs0gp5QPJZrmejeV0c-HR5ogkbduY5H3bBgVrYnNvxV8w2QM_1dPEqoIO1LGAK1BkvMou1bnyCBhBgUdSZ-2EITUH9d9huCURxi/s320/100_4128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263538142656793506" border="0" /></a><br />Until our friend brought over the "real" pirate costume he just HAD to wear!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMTZawV3mUvOuR0bcnikO5tjE4TcmrIuQxDh3wrmt7Uymyq-11GQM-rG_Cl54o5-mrrx_HaiecV_xoUouTVHsXVMsEfarg3DheyEjfGFWwy8_2dx6Nf72FBjeynPFek7A2ek81/s1600-h/100_4138.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMTZawV3mUvOuR0bcnikO5tjE4TcmrIuQxDh3wrmt7Uymyq-11GQM-rG_Cl54o5-mrrx_HaiecV_xoUouTVHsXVMsEfarg3DheyEjfGFWwy8_2dx6Nf72FBjeynPFek7A2ek81/s320/100_4138.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263538138878663122" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJoRCNtNXuN4jw-iElGCDQtjD6pHnJ5REVG62wa1sJisIkA192ji6LRki2hLiUGbwX-IeU_C-lc6VdFdPgrT3IjoPv8iHlM6ENZOqgvPzxkwNJSHTyAGdW9DuoMVvG9HbiodS/s1600-h/100_4140.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJoRCNtNXuN4jw-iElGCDQtjD6pHnJ5REVG62wa1sJisIkA192ji6LRki2hLiUGbwX-IeU_C-lc6VdFdPgrT3IjoPv8iHlM6ENZOqgvPzxkwNJSHTyAGdW9DuoMVvG9HbiodS/s320/100_4140.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263538128915488402" border="0" /></a>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-56712944064203614582008-11-01T00:00:00.002-04:002008-11-01T00:11:46.841-04:00My Hobbies ExpandedI ended up buying some <a href="http://www.puttyworld.com">Crazy Aaron's Thinking Putty</a> after all, and I entered the contest for 2008. Here's my entry:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I4-_uQ-912E&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I4-_uQ-912E&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I also ordered some needle felting kits online and made this lion for Rugger, who chose the colors:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrw1h9sDarpnYnHff8Q1vlcP7HNeo1FtIoXM_YqnogQCY6AEttLdVfb7p6XMyJHv-XdGOZd4CSVKWxacoKCttbgaODVyoi0MhnsPU29ERdHjIMMMeGWsdDECccX36R4GaC9t1B/s1600-h/100_4096.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrw1h9sDarpnYnHff8Q1vlcP7HNeo1FtIoXM_YqnogQCY6AEttLdVfb7p6XMyJHv-XdGOZd4CSVKWxacoKCttbgaODVyoi0MhnsPU29ERdHjIMMMeGWsdDECccX36R4GaC9t1B/s320/100_4096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263534597623101794" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm really enjoying trying out new things, and it helps me not dwell on my lack of clay contact!Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-6523283554403698812008-10-31T23:53:00.003-04:002008-11-01T00:01:18.893-04:00Fall, fall, fallA most perfect fall this year, and we are enjoying it by riding and walking and jogging!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgo1nXS7173bQlJCvsRtgi5vGfvpFAZniWfsF0Tni0gd91FYmU58VHRgHzOCYeKFsFQUMpAAe8lcTXBG_fsBNLaw7uzTFnoBR9x92zOe3leLOlejmFNCcCdkx1kIy0Mu-ltd1/s1600-h/100_3760.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgo1nXS7173bQlJCvsRtgi5vGfvpFAZniWfsF0Tni0gd91FYmU58VHRgHzOCYeKFsFQUMpAAe8lcTXBG_fsBNLaw7uzTFnoBR9x92zOe3leLOlejmFNCcCdkx1kIy0Mu-ltd1/s320/100_3760.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263533192895471474" border="0" /></a><br />We made ghosts using plastic grocery bags and marker stuffed with newspaper. They were "ooooo"ing when I took the picture, and we hung them on the porch where they swayed in the wind.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTETrtSPQvJbFXGj0aOP1UfGnaUt_-_BCRw6GMjz_SBkeoGISUnjcONftqiiD1KU554GDf8Z466th-BDXAJg6-kxPszS9cktHt_OwUdImzDs3SHEABaRLr8O9DKEuWtcTNwAE/s1600-h/100_4068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTETrtSPQvJbFXGj0aOP1UfGnaUt_-_BCRw6GMjz_SBkeoGISUnjcONftqiiD1KU554GDf8Z466th-BDXAJg6-kxPszS9cktHt_OwUdImzDs3SHEABaRLr8O9DKEuWtcTNwAE/s320/100_4068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263533212421528466" border="0" /></a><br />We made critters out of old pine cones and nut shells, except Rugger make a snowman out of Styrofoam balls...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghzMy9MUf83tmZvnHU42gRdd31tBgnUrzRDvbwdZVBe14mz-GC-5N_T7RZZ3ucsVIui3pImR6WjXNCrHg-2aYskL92g0735vS0MnPuE5nv4NuodIfYJCc6ksQJHA7jzGt0_ZyM/s1600-h/100_4071.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghzMy9MUf83tmZvnHU42gRdd31tBgnUrzRDvbwdZVBe14mz-GC-5N_T7RZZ3ucsVIui3pImR6WjXNCrHg-2aYskL92g0735vS0MnPuE5nv4NuodIfYJCc6ksQJHA7jzGt0_ZyM/s320/100_4071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263533216549245026" border="0" /></a><br />For Pumpkin's birthday, she wanted a castle cake from Family Fun Magazine:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsXEbxGmzNoTero-ohnSLlUk31n48WoepK4SXQyVeIb_VcdxsCutSTaUKU8uFH1kAvt7CyOn2APG3Di_ts-1pVZh2tCSXMCQCEMs4OLkW8iwlY1DJ-tjR-oO6IisXjgWWB-80/s1600-h/100_4090.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsXEbxGmzNoTero-ohnSLlUk31n48WoepK4SXQyVeIb_VcdxsCutSTaUKU8uFH1kAvt7CyOn2APG3Di_ts-1pVZh2tCSXMCQCEMs4OLkW8iwlY1DJ-tjR-oO6IisXjgWWB-80/s320/100_4090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263533219635694498" border="0" /></a>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-86601760104736883912008-10-31T23:44:00.003-04:002008-10-31T23:52:58.994-04:00CraftsCorn husk dolls:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w8fdkEU7Hm7uMIkUYBZrqqnG6X8AcmzpXz_iRZHMPDqnJFS8Ci33BJ2ved75uz-_kw2MbVHKLayEjCx2eXIBb5YxeY6QUl11AMYUqse33WXKlqiLDkKah6o8tG4pmy26D-Dv/s1600-h/100_4067.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w8fdkEU7Hm7uMIkUYBZrqqnG6X8AcmzpXz_iRZHMPDqnJFS8Ci33BJ2ved75uz-_kw2MbVHKLayEjCx2eXIBb5YxeY6QUl11AMYUqse33WXKlqiLDkKah6o8tG4pmy26D-Dv/s320/100_4067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263531397851038002" border="0" /></a><br />Paper mache pumpkins: (Pumpkin's is a "baby pumpkin", which is why it's green.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJWnZZ1hSlS8XFC5dJZLFW5EQgEg0GrMPu0J1BA_SZ7O115QwzkeJOhWacwo7xKuHBCxzVsbUV716v_fTx0IHPgzxWAd_j3nNt81xakgQiezoUSHQcSTQkjf6_1Vw_2UqFBNI/s1600-h/100_3749.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJWnZZ1hSlS8XFC5dJZLFW5EQgEg0GrMPu0J1BA_SZ7O115QwzkeJOhWacwo7xKuHBCxzVsbUV716v_fTx0IHPgzxWAd_j3nNt81xakgQiezoUSHQcSTQkjf6_1Vw_2UqFBNI/s320/100_3749.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263530782479253330" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Other side of pumpkins: (Rugger didn't like his and asked me to draw another face on the other side...)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpcjIt6oLMC45owwzehemS8L9iQRkzVZlEKxCE2i4n7LW22TY2mODHJr0GrAxPqHCXQ2JfsI0uHZFv1LFCYXm0Rj31mH4ZjL2_yz_zcPNE_3WA7FJBkvVe0B-rPVppHIYMEUe/s1600-h/100_3750.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpcjIt6oLMC45owwzehemS8L9iQRkzVZlEKxCE2i4n7LW22TY2mODHJr0GrAxPqHCXQ2JfsI0uHZFv1LFCYXm0Rj31mH4ZjL2_yz_zcPNE_3WA7FJBkvVe0B-rPVppHIYMEUe/s320/100_3750.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263530786929840786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Cut apples before we dried them. These were our first ones, which rotted, but I had a picture. The next group I dried in the oven,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXHxnwfwMs32cyU7qsu9QkOa8jhntLZdMp_HFfKbZu92mCROY_LV1miZJXydNwqdNepu-6ccHg8tEUxPiG6E5r2PK3veEFvEEV0VFTbgUtRfsRUvQcZB1p6WORWB89HHsNeYa/s1600-h/100_3752.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXHxnwfwMs32cyU7qsu9QkOa8jhntLZdMp_HFfKbZu92mCROY_LV1miZJXydNwqdNepu-6ccHg8tEUxPiG6E5r2PK3veEFvEEV0VFTbgUtRfsRUvQcZB1p6WORWB89HHsNeYa/s320/100_3752.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263530795657565298" border="0" /></a><br />And they turned out like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yYtDF4fKJ1pvnHkLfy7kAPTdYXqjeqaTIk9zMwO4IvvNcJEHtC0MsZiTUSAmPZQ5lYDneGDZEkvOA4vnoVSD1Zi6OX0o3BafmlAI-n2LnOKa7MD7VkeCD7BJFEPYogXnvAUC/s1600-h/100_4072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yYtDF4fKJ1pvnHkLfy7kAPTdYXqjeqaTIk9zMwO4IvvNcJEHtC0MsZiTUSAmPZQ5lYDneGDZEkvOA4vnoVSD1Zi6OX0o3BafmlAI-n2LnOKa7MD7VkeCD7BJFEPYogXnvAUC/s320/100_4072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263531390556544146" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I've always wanted to play with toothpicks and marshmallows:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgX1x89YLz2L8h6jXvT-W0PittAE22g7gzfBYM0E67GTrO-I3ybTzCrO-n3EK0GDmpGekqWkgNDa23J6BD7qYYqI3QErTaBK8bUL7_TQI6jwzhY8nlfHEz60Png3gU8soD3NAd/s1600-h/100_3763.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgX1x89YLz2L8h6jXvT-W0PittAE22g7gzfBYM0E67GTrO-I3ybTzCrO-n3EK0GDmpGekqWkgNDa23J6BD7qYYqI3QErTaBK8bUL7_TQI6jwzhY8nlfHEz60Png3gU8soD3NAd/s320/100_3763.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263530811999116386" border="0" /></a>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-19676991977447388662008-10-31T23:34:00.002-04:002008-10-31T23:39:52.569-04:00Newsprint & MoreThe babies having fun on a new desk from our church's hand-me-down store (which is run by volunteers and gives the proceeds back to the community - lots of cool stuff!) Birdie is barefoot by choice :) Usually she's topless, as well!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGzJcvPbk24MqbYax2wPLGPUk0UJtbgdeAwO2XdEXoC12vLEMKC2mw3ad0jSguiHcCeAEjrDBruNHUSkXWYPKSxjbdvtuAund9V0dkrW3Yx4zjNC8jfcN0n1xR2E3snhHn2Jy/s1600-h/100_3733.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGzJcvPbk24MqbYax2wPLGPUk0UJtbgdeAwO2XdEXoC12vLEMKC2mw3ad0jSguiHcCeAEjrDBruNHUSkXWYPKSxjbdvtuAund9V0dkrW3Yx4zjNC8jfcN0n1xR2E3snhHn2Jy/s320/100_3733.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263528112855390962" border="0" /></a><br />A fort from rolled up newspapers:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8DRjSW3c6jnHWXm4pt5J2hJLxsw3_rULgb2FzDFXjOcXSHLtvgL3BtIvmHKGtfv2GfFRXAYBX5FRCHIH8UcsPzICMHqz5Nwh0tr2IhS-K4B9R-uNvX71upyaRfQq9i2I-6Ui/s1600-h/100_3744.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8DRjSW3c6jnHWXm4pt5J2hJLxsw3_rULgb2FzDFXjOcXSHLtvgL3BtIvmHKGtfv2GfFRXAYBX5FRCHIH8UcsPzICMHqz5Nwh0tr2IhS-K4B9R-uNvX71upyaRfQq9i2I-6Ui/s320/100_3744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263528107179397298" border="0" /></a><br />And a sword and cardboard shield with a t-shirt cape:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD24tpzP6BHwt9flp_S3J0M8PST5gGI44czIhQcaxXHLtgnCEPp0BZ5z_tU9Wm8HZjIh9jLSoqEUVytufrJVYpWmUDIsroZPaBP35NTvpRKuICsLht4jrNCJS6EGjqS1zD1yzg/s1600-h/100_3745.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD24tpzP6BHwt9flp_S3J0M8PST5gGI44czIhQcaxXHLtgnCEPp0BZ5z_tU9Wm8HZjIh9jLSoqEUVytufrJVYpWmUDIsroZPaBP35NTvpRKuICsLht4jrNCJS6EGjqS1zD1yzg/s320/100_3745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263528102987977282" border="0" /></a>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-52207934759266847512008-10-31T23:20:00.004-04:002008-10-31T23:34:00.309-04:00Lots of PhotosOkay, I'm actually going to break this up into several posts for ease in case you don't have a fast connection. But some of these go all the way back to August...<br /><br />Back around the time of Rugger's birthday, Boom made him a chainsaw out of wood:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAO1WEpoVUb3t8oV5it8pKn-scu0MGu2Tip3GL3buKmrdYJOU_uj9BrTV1kSSXza3WUfR8TKitpvHedthjQXDtUmtZfSZmpzXvypko7DFVcKyXXI1AF49fuCqcWvteNYj7GbVh/s1600-h/100_3636.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAO1WEpoVUb3t8oV5it8pKn-scu0MGu2Tip3GL3buKmrdYJOU_uj9BrTV1kSSXza3WUfR8TKitpvHedthjQXDtUmtZfSZmpzXvypko7DFVcKyXXI1AF49fuCqcWvteNYj7GbVh/s320/100_3636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263524739706741282" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For Rugger's birthday, I made this cake from Family Fun Magazine:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOoYmuWRUA4czWL5KQyQ4tPfcrdwOai-OBkPkETTxgjyR-9dAk_2-fzmPX_XR_07ABJVsyPBbRqe_9piDF4SmpA0LUdb04_F2Hq2eRCc2oJ-1HiWGdzTNJGubVGTEGEyarzKC5/s1600-h/100_3640.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOoYmuWRUA4czWL5KQyQ4tPfcrdwOai-OBkPkETTxgjyR-9dAk_2-fzmPX_XR_07ABJVsyPBbRqe_9piDF4SmpA0LUdb04_F2Hq2eRCc2oJ-1HiWGdzTNJGubVGTEGEyarzKC5/s320/100_3640.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263524746824484946" border="0" /></a><br />And the kids wanted to frost some cookies, so we made these:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLPpGfyNmu0K5ZojGvKR5kh3l1cIZhD9K25n0kU9bQqB7-zLT5_q7ZCbyBDBibwyrVRJsVYYMc92I9YBtg6eHUXh6zlI3Y1O2dolHJmAyqFCnyR2HJ0nqrhjP3n9aUSnfac_y/s1600-h/100_3712.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLPpGfyNmu0K5ZojGvKR5kh3l1cIZhD9K25n0kU9bQqB7-zLT5_q7ZCbyBDBibwyrVRJsVYYMc92I9YBtg6eHUXh6zlI3Y1O2dolHJmAyqFCnyR2HJ0nqrhjP3n9aUSnfac_y/s320/100_3712.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263524753496643682" border="0" /></a>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-3430539261864497382008-10-08T22:05:00.002-04:002008-10-08T22:20:53.038-04:00Her First Cartoon!Pumpkin loves cartoons. Well, most people do. But she has been asking about how they move and who makes them talk and such for over a year now.<br /><br />So I felt it my duty to show her how stop motion animation works, and let her draw her own cartoon:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BGfNnJBEmJg"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BGfNnJBEmJg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed> </object><br /><br />Yes, she has a somewhat sadistic sort of humor (*wink*). Seriously, though, like most young kids she finds most things funny that in real life would not be, including potty humor. It's just a kid thing, trust me.<br /><br />Speaking of trust...I have been rolling ideas about in my head for weeks now regarding Radical Unschooling (as opposed to just academic unschooling.) I went on a well-known RU forum on Yahoo Groups, but unfortunately I didn't know the rules, or rather, the "culture" of the forum. I'm not part of many forums that DON'T either post rules or just let you come in and chat, so I was unfamiliar with their particular style of discussion, and long story short I got my feelings hurt.<br /><br />But they'll be quick to tell you it's not their job to see about my feelings, but to discuss unschooling. And so I got over the jab to my emotions (mostly) and have been lurking and learning now. We have been mostly RUing for our whole time as a family since Pumpkin was born, but now I'm trying to be even more trusting with our children, and it's an interesting mind shift.<br /><br />We did finish some of the crafts I had planned on trying, and when I get my pics transferred, I'll post them. I also came up with the idea today to make colored ice cubes to make a mini ice sculpture. Alas, I filled one of the trays up too full and all the colors merged into brown when I picked up the tray to put it in the freezer. But I'll do it at least two more times so they have plenty of blocks, and next time I'll be sure not to fill it too full.<br /><br />I think I'm starting a new hobby!!! I ordered some needle felting supplies and I'm going to attmept to make sculptures from wool. I also have been brainstorming some ideas that I might actually be able to sell, which would be great! I specialize in dreams, though, so who knows?<br /><br />Today my midwife called me up and I might be going with her to see one of her Amish new mothers tomorrow to encourage and advise her with breastfeeding her infant. I have wanted to become a post-partum doula someday, when the kids are older, and so I look forward to this visit. I get nervous, though, because I never want people to feel "less than" when I talk about what they can do to help themselves. I like to cheer people up, make them happy. But I also like to see them succeed.<br /><br />This is where I differ from the owner of the RU forum I was on. She also wants to see people succeed, but she doesn't have the goal of cheering them up. There have been many messages in my life this week that have made me realize that this is okay. She is who she is, and I am who I am. She wasn't wrong, and I wasn't wrong. We both look at things differently. In the end, her advice is still the same, and in the end, I still get to choose if I want to take it, or not. And that's the beauty of it all...<br /><br />On a sad note, I think some people very close to us are making some very unwise decisions. They've been making some unwise decisions for awhile now, but it's getting to the point where they will be hurting their kids for the rest of their lives. And I feel angry, and hurt, and just plain saddened that they can't see through their own pain to the pain they are causing their children. Their children didn't CHOOSE to be born. They didn't CHOOSE to live with this family. And so it is the parents' responsibility to make sure that their lives are secure, and so far they are doing lousy at it. I love these people VERY much. And BECAUSE of that, I hate to see what's happening. The irony this time is that the mother wants to "simplify" her life by being by herself and with "her" kids. I wonder if she hasn't noticed that most single mom's lives are far from being "simple."Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-40498244977347585622008-09-22T00:15:00.003-04:002008-09-22T00:31:46.836-04:00All I Want For ChristmasIs <a href="http://www.puttyworld.com/products.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">THIS!!!</span></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.puttyworld.com/products.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVylDdxUyMM0Bo76BKy__pRNax1VBMgyar2mT_yXgPnTRuAkkfAq6i_gSjKb7LN4G7if26JRsH70f0esLgBi8jv8uWzBmzKgc0pH_hBjQib47EeI1ZRBalJqIU5R6PBL7Ia2D5/s320/puttyworld-logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248695292693059346" border="0" /></a><br />This stuff comes in Glow-In-The-Dark, Temperature-Sensitive Colors, Marbleized Colors, and even a Magnetic putty!<br /><br />Plus, it's cheaper per ounce than <a href="http://www.sillyputty.com/">Silly Putty</a>, and it comes in a larger amount for adult-sized hands and in a very nice tin to store it in!<br /><br />Now, if I could only afford the $500 to buy just about all I really want of it! Of course, they also sell 1 lb. bags of the stuff, and even customize colors with PMS charts or for promotional items the tins can carry your logo!<br /><br />But there's more...if I can get a tin (or three?) before Christmas, I could enter <a href="http://www.puttyworld.com/sculcom.html">this contest</a>. Talk about incentive! The only thing is, it's hard to tell what would win since I think a lot of the previous submissions were better than the chosen winners....<br /><br />But it says that EVERYONE who enters gets SOMETHING...so I'm now starting to really think about this!<br /><br />************************<br /><br />Anyway, non-putty related news...<br /><br />Rugger pedaled off two days after Pumpkin, and they've been fighting over the pedal bike ever since. I'm waiting until Spring to see how tall Pumpkin is then, though I may ask our friend and neighbor (who is more like a Grandma) what size her son's are that he's selling when we see her tomorrow.<br /><br />Another reason I want the putty is because I like clay of all types, really. And one thing I want to do with the kids sometime is make our own clay-mation video. It wouldn't be that hard, just time consuming.<br /><br />Today I helped them (okay, did most of it!) paper mache a few balloons to make into pumpkins to decorate for fall (Pumpkin always wants to be official and is excited that TOMORROW is fall...or today as I'm writing this after midnight...)<br /><br />So we have to wait, like, 5 days for the stuff to dry because I put all three layers on at once because when am I going to find the time or desire to get that messy all over again? Then we'll paint our pumpkins on. Pumpkin says her's is a baby pumpkin so she'll paint it green :)<br /><br />Here's the list of other stuff I want to do with/for them:<br /><br />Make corn husk dolls. This one I think they will actually be able to do apart from tying the string.<br /><br />Make wrinkly apple dolls. Again, if I help, they can probably carve them somewhat. Then just wait to dry.<br /><br />Make magazine paper bead necklace and bracelet. They already made a shell bracelet and necklace, but this one will look more "cool" in my mind, and they'll have fun rolling, I think. And they'll be able to string them easier than the shells, which will be nice.<br /><br />Make a button-man key chain. I need to buy some elastic string for this one, and I'm not sure I have colorful buttons, so I'll have to check.<br /><br />Either way, these will be fun and something for them to look forward to. Now if I can only convince them I need to pay my bills and clear off my desk first!Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-78861753729784454172008-09-13T16:00:00.002-04:002008-09-13T16:52:02.980-04:00Fudge-cyclesNo, that's not a typo, it's just a summation of the last two days and new things we are doing in our household!<br /><br />First off, Pumpkin and Rugger have been accompanying me on our walks with their balance bike, and are really doing quite well. So well, in fact, that I thought they should try their pedal bike.<br /><br />Well, first they did it on our mini-hill in the backyard (gliding about 20 feet or so), and then I said to glide and then lift their feet up, and eventually to add the pedaling motion in.<br /><br />Pumpkin was the first to get it, and took off really well, though stopping quickly because the grass is just plain hard to ride in, especially for an almost-6 year old. Rugger does okay, but mostly when he touches the pedals he loses faith and just doesn't think he can do it. He's actually better than Pumpkin at the balancing and will turn his bike around and off-road and everything, but just doesn't want to try the pedals.<br /><br />Anyway, last night we took Pumpkin and Rugger over to the school parking lot (can't do it without someone to help with the babies) and Pumpkin took right off pretty much on the first try, and by the third try I was jogging to keep up with her! She was great! Had to work on her breaking a little, they're the back-pedaling kind, but other than that, she now has it down.<br /><br />Rugger on the other hand, still wouldn't do it, but went EVERYWHERE with his balance bike. Up the curb, jumping off the curb, squeeling away and going round and round....so when he DOES learn to pedal, I'm in trouble!!!<br /><br />Can you say Emergency Room??? I just closed my eyes a few times because I was sure he would fall. Of course, last night he DID fall, and because I hadn't thought to have them wear their helmets, he now has a big shiner on his forehead. Bad mommy....<br /><br />Anyway, this morning I tried my hand for the first time at fudge making. It wasn't very hard, and I did the complete bare-bones kind - no chocolate chips, cream, or corn syrup. Just butter, milk, sugar and cocoa. I also did a peanut butter kind with brown sugar, milk, butter, then corn starch and water with the peanut butter. And both had vanilla.<br /><br />Anyway, they turned out DELICIOUS!!! Boom likes fudge, and so I made it officially for his birthday, which isn't technically for another week, but since my parents were here we celebrated anyway.<br /><br />Here's the recipes if you want to give it a try:<br /><br /><a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Old-Fashioned-Chocolate-Fudge/Detail.aspx">Old Fashioned Chocolate Fudge</a><br /><br /><a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Cathys-Peanut-Butter-Fudge/Detail.aspx">Cathy's Peanut Butter Fudge</a><br /><br />Ignore the pictures - this stuff is great!<br /><br />Also, read up on <a href="http://allrecipes.com/HowTo/Perfect-Fudge/Detail.aspx">HOW to make fudge correctly</a>, because the directions don't include the "no stirring while cooling to 110 degrees" thing...<br /><br />I also got a few new shelves from my parents (they didn't need them anymore since my dad make built-in shelves in their new room that he made from their porch), and I had fun putting my pottery out where I can actually see it for once. I was then able to get rid of another plant stand that I've never liked but needed for the space. Overall I'm happy with the rooms, if I could just get rid of all the junk! Toys, toys, and more toys....<br /><br />Anyway, here's the video of Pumpkin and Rugger. Ignore me and my awful pink pants and frizzy bed-head hair. I promise, some days I actually DO get ready in the morning!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nCjp_TDijS4&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nCjp_TDijS4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-79103064731925551582008-09-08T13:16:00.002-04:002008-09-08T14:01:52.950-04:00Moving OnWell, last weekend I rearranged the living room, and then this past week I cleaned up the kitchen, so it only seemed appropriate that I finally address the bedrooms.<br /><br />It started when Pumpkin and Rugger decided to play in their "club house", which happened to be our bedroom. And so I decided to ask them if they'd like their own room to play in, and sleep in, with all of their toys (which the babies can't get to with a gate on the door) and they enthusiastically said, "YES!!!"<br /><br />So I began moving. Beds. Dressers. Shelves. Without Boom home, I used some muscles that I haven't felt in awhile. And with the humidity, I was dripping more than once. And I realized again just how much JUNK (oops, I mean TOYS) we really have. Finding homes for all of them is a day-long job....actually I was up way past bedtime still putting things away.<br /><br />But I finally got it all done. And with two mattresses I got from my midwife we now have Pumpkin and Rugger upstairs in the big bedroom, with the little bedroom serving guests and a toyroom for the babies. And downstairs is Boom and I with the babies next to us in a twin bed. Which is still being worked out as the babies are used to sleeping in certain positions...namely against me and Boom!<br /><br />I did miss the two older ones, though they didn't miss us. (Rugger DID burn his finger on the new lamp I put on their beds, but didn't even cry out, and the blister is HUGE, which he then TORE OPEN....!!!) I guess he isn't one for talking during Children's Church on Sundays, but yesterday he told the kids all about his new lamp, and the burn (which I didn't know about) and how he picked it (Pumpkin's idea as she told him she chews her fingers - which she gets from Boom), and then the bandaid I put on it....the whole shebang. He had the older kids rolling on the floor laughing because they've never heard Rugger say so much before. And the teacher (our pastor's wife, a wonderful, funny Irish woman) kept trying to continue with the lesson, but then Rugger would jump right back in with, "...and then my DOG..."<br /><br />I also found a lot of stuff to get rid of or send to the Outpost (our church's local hand-me-down store which is non-profit, doesn't pay the volunteers, and the proceeds go to local needs.)<br /><br />The only thing that made me really sad was all the baby blankets. I'm keeping the ones that are so familiar that looking at them is like looking at me oldest daughter's smile. They are the ones I can still see her in, all the way through her brother, and even down to the little ones. They'll stay for playing with, and then eventually as keepsakes.<br /><br />Well, I don't really want to end this post, but the babies are both climbing on me, and are trying to destroy the computer, so sianara!Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-78499456907025137642008-08-31T21:58:00.003-04:002008-08-31T23:21:28.860-04:00While I CanSince I seem to blog a lot when I'm feeling down, I figured I might as well post again while I'm feeling happy. That's, what?, three whole blogs in a row! Yeah!!!<br /><br />Anyway, today was another day that went pretty good. Booger was tired during church and so he fussed the entire time through worship and down in the nursery, but then went down for a 2 1/2 hour nap, which is unheard of around here...<br /><br />I did some "fall cleaning" yesterday, which felt good. I shampooed our carpet for the second time since buying our Kurby over a year ago (the first time was less than a month ago!) and rearranged our lazy boy chair to where Boom had wanted it originally. I had it my way for 2 years, so I'm trying it his way, just because I do love him so!<br /><br />And the twins are just being great for me, as well as they can be between all the trouble they cause! But it's just plain looking up right now.<br /><br />I am excited about Boom's birthday as we got some things I know he'll like. He's hard to buy for as he doesn't really like gifts. He says he feels blessed enough just to have us (awww) but I'm a gift-giver, so I like seeing him enjoy things. And I also think I know what Pumpkin will be getting.<br /><br />Now if only our team would just get to the playoffs and do well, this should be a good fall. Though I'm not sure about winter - I heard geese over two weeks ago for the first time, and that can't really be good, can it?<br /><br />I am also thinking about starting another blog when I get into my clay again. So I can bore anyone with my step-by-step stuff. I can't wait for that, either. I actually found a thread over at mothering.com where the women were discussing the fact that they literally physically ache to create, which is hard to do when attachment parenting little ones. You can't just create in 10 minute spurts - you need to dig down deep and let yourself go....<br /><br />So I'm not alone in my all-consuming yearning for my clay. They might have different yearnings, but still....painting, sculpting, whatever...it's the same need.<br /><br />I almost forgot to mention that tonight the twins didn't go to sleep while nursing. So I just took them upstairs and laid with them. And I've done this a few times before with similar results. They both lay there quietly, Booger squirming a bit, then settling, with Birdie somehow laying on me, face down or turned away from me but with the majority of her body touching mine. And this is how they fall asleep. And I absolutely love it.<br /><br />And lastly, here's a quote from the swingset:<br /><br />"Hey, Rugger...you remember when you farted in Birdie's face?" :laughs:<br /><br />"Yeah..." :chuckles: "That was funny...."<br /><br />Kids....Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-67449199306368452232008-08-29T14:02:00.004-04:002008-08-29T14:19:57.654-04:00So THIS is what you do...Okay, I tend to love crafts, and science experiments, and all such fun things. Maybe that's why I love unschooling. But this idea came straight from my son, Rugger.<br /><br />Ever since I brought home a book (Make It Work! Machines - from Scholastic) from the library on Sales Day (biggest yard sale of the year here) he has been begging me to help him build this rocket:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1mu7rJdMwo_6cSiM4EvZRIXVaeO1bSpGjkI2kkgScepYy6Vvy5Tz-P29qgJdztgc_zFwHjLBMTZvcz8UPjC51DX0y9znJYuveMhI0dsMujrG5NmENs9zFO5e_HsQC_87w1jRj/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1mu7rJdMwo_6cSiM4EvZRIXVaeO1bSpGjkI2kkgScepYy6Vvy5Tz-P29qgJdztgc_zFwHjLBMTZvcz8UPjC51DX0y9znJYuveMhI0dsMujrG5NmENs9zFO5e_HsQC_87w1jRj/s320/scan0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240003746638738834" border="0" /></a><br />So I finally decided to do it today. We got the cardboard out, the babies loved helping with the tape and glue, and this is what OURS looked like:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYUYso80wa3_PWpYp6CFw4KHICWXx4k37ZgyA6V5Qmklz16BGUDIEV274mKBEobHo4NWvwayTjq9KkxF8MMo5Z1InHuVwJOLluRfXcrrV3wfkd_kFb1ALRCGX6FbojUEvDDq4/s1600-h/rocket.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYUYso80wa3_PWpYp6CFw4KHICWXx4k37ZgyA6V5Qmklz16BGUDIEV274mKBEobHo4NWvwayTjq9KkxF8MMo5Z1InHuVwJOLluRfXcrrV3wfkd_kFb1ALRCGX6FbojUEvDDq4/s320/rocket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240003753155426322" border="0" /></a><br />Not quite as colorful! But as you'll see, just as functional! Here's the video:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JGPQQLY_1MY"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JGPQQLY_1MY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed> </object><br /><br />And lest you think I only cater to my boy, my daughter asked me to make her a marionette for her after seeing one at the zoo. Now THIS took some time to make!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSFk26QJrVdENzyiohgH6VjEoPPbxCzt-2V-q5JULM2gPCjGOsUTRbV6xnls72fnY0z6yDSf_fBHJY9k8RTGxjYRlDnbhTmOM9j9iojXIwI7qcM6lb_a8WRmj7LbnUE5dRumO/s1600-h/marianette.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSFk26QJrVdENzyiohgH6VjEoPPbxCzt-2V-q5JULM2gPCjGOsUTRbV6xnls72fnY0z6yDSf_fBHJY9k8RTGxjYRlDnbhTmOM9j9iojXIwI7qcM6lb_a8WRmj7LbnUE5dRumO/s320/marianette.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240003755423657266" border="0" /></a><br />Yes, it's a zebra. And there are strings connected to the head, and all four legs. I used straws, toilet paper roll, pom poms, and felt. For the handle I used bamboo skewers which I cut to length. There was no directions for this guy - he's all from my head!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46kA2lQf_f7MrrHkHJnbPDjieTzqxIWKLgA9o7_8A1fFOGu8FkqrPyzRCdLj4Bt78HHKftc8zN1iEFeKbQWGDbWCBGwu4qasCmBz2jJq6NCBeZE9DPwGQikb4DRfcsXbIBehT/s1600-h/marianette2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46kA2lQf_f7MrrHkHJnbPDjieTzqxIWKLgA9o7_8A1fFOGu8FkqrPyzRCdLj4Bt78HHKftc8zN1iEFeKbQWGDbWCBGwu4qasCmBz2jJq6NCBeZE9DPwGQikb4DRfcsXbIBehT/s320/marianette2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240003917076556210" border="0" /></a><br />Booger has decided that he hates bathing now. Pumpkin went through the same phase, and he'll just scream while I wash him and quickly get him out, much like Pumpkin at that age. They were also the only babies who screamed while infants bathing...<br /><br />One of the booster moms has been sending blueberries home with Boom and I am LOVING it! I made batchs of pancakes, a pie, muffins, have been eating them on my homemade granola with yogurt, and of course just plain! They are delicious and I'm addicted! Thank you!<br /><br />Our friend from church, who is more like a grandma or mother to me, also brought over 3 gallons of applesauce from her dutchess apple tree. I'm so thankful for such generous people in my life.<br /><br />It reminds me of last year when so many people helped out with the twins. There was supper for a couple of months, and things still came pouring in long afterwards. We truly felt like we had one huge extended family in our community. Thank you, everyone.Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-81871065682882592152008-08-28T22:10:00.004-04:002008-08-28T22:17:58.225-04:00My Little PrincessI can't say for sure that Birdie will love dressing up as she gets older, but I DO know that for now she absolutely cracks me up!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbzPEgv4bB-iWvEtoDgSAQ08oKzNsEjHkCj4MOknUhMFTcJmfQvTE5k7xxhj4u-lZ84uPmTk9BByGbJsIVH0rkd04byGDJuomEzIqjzrNJQ7xnMs9Ib2pk-qkZAgbGdtoHcdG/s1600-h/princess.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbzPEgv4bB-iWvEtoDgSAQ08oKzNsEjHkCj4MOknUhMFTcJmfQvTE5k7xxhj4u-lZ84uPmTk9BByGbJsIVH0rkd04byGDJuomEzIqjzrNJQ7xnMs9Ib2pk-qkZAgbGdtoHcdG/s320/princess.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239756529430221282" border="0" /></a><br /><br />She was running around buck naked with these necklaces on, and I just couldn't resist! She loves putting ANYTHING on or taking it off. Necklaces, shirts, blankets, her daddy's underwear, my bras!<br /><br />Anyway, I forgot to mention that I also made homemade caramels for the first time this last weekend. My friend and neighbor (one and the same) came over to help me and did most of the work while the two little ones kept crying for me to hold them (I can't wait for the stranger anxiety phase to be done with...one is bad enough but with two!)<br /><br />We used a candy thermometer I just bought at this cool kitchen store in the mall (I don't ever go to the mall, but wanted to see what Old Navy had for sale, so stopped in the kitchen place for the thermometer) and it is THE COOLEST place ever. So many gadgets! So many colors! Too many kids with me wanting to grab it all and chew on it or play with it!!! Which is good, because I would have spent enough time in there to convince myself to buy SOMETHING I don't really need....<br /><br />Anyway, we had to wait for the caramel to cook enough to cut and individually wrap, and even dipped some in melted Dove chocolate (yum!) The chocolate ones kind of became puddles as it was so warm in the house that the caramel was starting to melt by that time. But it still tasted great.<br /><br />Tomorrow's our first game of the season. Boom's already dealt with a couple of injuries, more politics, and some other stuff. I so wish I could watch the game from the stands - cold as it gets eventually. I miss watching the band and hearing all the people, and being able to SEE what's going on. But as it is the kids are going to drive me nuts, and realistically they probably shouldn't have to be drug to the games, but what can I do? I want to be there, and I'm not leaving them at home. It's just too bad that my parents don't live here...Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-47751584729240647482008-08-27T22:10:00.002-04:002008-08-27T22:24:24.598-04:00AffirmationWell, today I spent awhile online at Mothering.com discussion boards. I go there when I need to hear other people who think like me so I feel better about the choices I make. I know, how lame....<br /><br />Anyway, I was glad to see other people discussing homebirth and the fact that even though we take responsibility for anything that MIGHT go wrong during a home birth, it doesn't mean we are putting our children or ourselves at risk just so we can have a cozy birth. Truly. I don't get why people think that we haven't informed ourselves, studied, debated, and even prayed before we've made these decisions.<br /><br />Or that midwives are some hillbilly yocals who have no idea what to do if a baby is in distress. Geez. You'd think that we were performing surgery with our own hands the way some people talk about it.<br /><br />And then there's the unschooling crowd. It was neat how a lot of them were discussing that the term "unschooling" is rather negative, so the alternatives were brought up, though most people said they simply don't label what they do. I tend to do both - mention the word "unschooling" or else just describe loosely that I don't use textbooks and schedules and such. Most people haven't a clue what I'm trying to say, anyway, and it's probably best they don't else they think my kids are learning nothing because I'm not teaching them.<br /><br />But the coolest part was this link:<br /><br />http://fivefreebirds.blogspot.com/2008/07/unschool-v-school.html<br /><br />It was so neat to see that he did okay even though he never once was taught anything in the traditional sense. And then I caught this:<br /><br />http://fivefreebirds.blogspot.com/2008/08/unschooled-v-schooled-comments.html<br /><br />So we'll have to see what it's like when he's done.<br /><br />Anyway, it made me feel better to see the end result of what I'm starting now. It's those little tidbits that I need to keep me going.<br /><br />I should have mentioned that I got Rugger (well, it's for all the kids) a balance bike from Kinderbike. He loves it and is getting very good at gliding down our small grade behind the house (I mean VERY small grade...) I wish they sold these in Wal-mart but oh, well. He loves it, and insisted on the horn that his grandmother got him, as well as the mirror. I do love that kid!<br /><br />Pumpkin and I finished a puzzle book we started yesterday. I do miss going through things like that with her. We've also been playing puzzle games on the computer. She picks them up very well, and it surprises me sometimes.<br /><br />I'll say again I'm enjoying more the groove we are in for now. If only the babies would stop trying to destroy everything! Birdie was heading down the driveway in the general direction of the road, and both of them keep playing in the dog's water and eating his food. They've been tearing off the toilet paper again (this time it's mostly Birdie) and she'll tear up the diaper wipes as well. She even threw a toothbrush and cup in the toilet, though Booger's the one who figured out that it flushes....so they make a terrific, terrible team. *sigh*<br /><br />This, too, unfortunately, shall pass. And I'll miss it...sometimes :)Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-8533904734037784022008-08-26T22:13:00.002-04:002008-08-26T22:38:43.598-04:00My Alternate LifeToday was the first day that Pumpkin did NOT go to school. I mean, she didn't go to school for the past two years as well, when all her friends were in preschool. And our church DOES have an outstanding preschool which is only a couple hours for two days of the week, so it wouldn't have HURT her or anything...I just chose not to send her...<br /><br />But today is the day that officially everyone who is schooling their children by kindergarten sent them off, and Pumpkin remained home. So officially, I am homeschooling. Or mostly just NOT schooling...<br /><br />We had a good day, mostly. We got up when the babies did, ate breakfast, went on a walk, played outside, read books, ate lunch, played outside some more, and just relaxed. Mostly the same stuff we've been doing all summer long. When the kids (or rather babies) weren't getting into trouble I was reading a book.<br /><br />It's amazing how much they are growing, and I love it. I so look forward to this year and the coming ones as they start understanding physical dangers more and I only have to deal with the emotional and mental and spiritual aspects of parenting. Or rather FOCUS on them, as I'm sure there will be other physical hurdles in my future (can anyone say ER and sports???)<br /><br />But overall, I had a good day. Though I did fantasize a lot about my pottery.<br /><br />I don't know if it's just me or if anyone else does this, but I talk to "myself" a lot, only it's not me, it's the person I WANT to be talking to, or maybe I'll be thinking about what I'll type into my blog later (95% of what I THINK about typing, I never do. I only post about 5% of the blogs I've typed in my head, due to time and energy....)<br /><br />I will do this with my lips visibly moving, however, and I'm sure people must have seen me while on walks doing this, and I wonder what they think of me. If they wonder if I'm crazy. And maybe I am.<br /><br />But I can't help it. I picture the best scenario possible for my future. I always do. This is not to say I never worry or wonder about my future. I do. A lot. But not while fantasizing. When fantasizing, everything goes my way, and works out, and I am good at what I do. Call it positive thinking, or what-have-you. It's how I pictured my births, for that matter. How I pictured my marriage, my kids, etc.<br /><br />And strangely enough, many times things DO turn out pretty close to what I picture, though not always. Luckily I have enough pessimism in me to recognize that the very worst MAY happen instead, and if or when it does, I take the blow in a "I knew it" sort of way, and deal with it.<br /><br />Either way, I was lost in thought much of today. I'm glad I never had to take a philosophy class, because I think it would have killed me. Literally. I was thinking about how what is best or right for me is not best or right for the world, and I do this often. I go in circles as I try to reason and make the logic work, and it just doesn't.<br /><br />I can't rationalize how much control a person or people should have over lives. Who decides what is right and wrong? Who has the authority to enforce it? We can create lives and prolong lives, but we can't end them? Why is one end of the life spectrum allowed but not the other? Because it's positive? Not always. Some babies that aren't aborted are beaten to death. Some babies not left to die live on machines that eat and breathe for them, and brain waves hardly register at all. I wouldn't call that positive. Or some people are in so much pain they pray daily to leave this earth. And yet think that the higher road is to prolong their agony....<br /><br />But I cannot say who it is who can judge these things apart from God. I cannot say whether creating life in a tube, or cloning, or pausing life is okay.<br /><br />When does the individual's choice become overridden by another individual's right? If my son had died in childbirth, would you blame me for his death because of my choice to homebirth? What if he had died in the hospital...there is no blame because I was in the "right" place? Or is it because you can blame the professionals? Is that like blaming the school when your children do not learn?<br /><br />Or is a child falls ill to a simple disease that we have vaccines for - is their parent to blame for not vaxing, yet when a child falls ill to the vaccine and dies - the parent is not to blame because it's the "normal" and accepted thing to do?<br /><br />When is discipline considered abuse, and who decides how much right another has to oversee this? If I decide to use home remedies instead of use antibiotics, but it is found out later that I should have used the medicine, am I wrong? What about the mother who smokes in front of her kids, knowing the harm. Should she be taken away?<br /><br />In a world where morals are relative, who decides? We discussed a book last month called "The Infidel" where the author points out that we are protecting the Islam religion in the name of tolerance, but denying the muslim women their rights as humans as they are being beaten and killed in the name of Allah. Yet if we step in and prohibit them from practicing their religion, then who will next stop Christians or Buddists or Hindus from practicing?<br /><br />We have protected children in public schools by giving them the easy road and a way out. In the name of kindness we have stripped them of ever learning how to cope in the real world. We promote sameness and yet strive to remain unique.<br /><br />Have humans always struggled thus?<br /><br />I try to live as naturally as possible. As if mankind had never moved past the garden. And yet I recognize the benefits we have acheived as well. So I, too, am an oxymoron. And yet I have peace with what I have chosen.<br /><br />I just wish others agreed. And yet they can't. Because by doing so, they automatically condemn their own choices. We can agree to disagree...and I guess that's what I'll have to live with. But darn it if I'm not so difficult that I actually wish we COULD all agree. Me and my black & white world....Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-10619009670389629922008-08-02T23:45:00.007-04:002008-12-11T11:57:20.235-05:00Pictures!Okay, so I changed my look just a tad (I still love the old one, what can I say?) and I got to add some pics of my favorite people! But while I'm at it, let me bombard you with some more from our recent happenings:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">You'll notice that Pumpkin is not smiling in most pictures. She thinks she can't smile and so as soon as you grab the camera, will stop smiling, but if you ask her to smile, she tries too hard and makes a very fake smile that is almost worse than not smiling (thus her reason for thinking she can't smile.) So she's not unhappy, per se, just not able to naturally smile at the moment...<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQVKFqwhwP4FO0k4ikkpV1bmtO827qFMD9mvA2crGm3TlFrRC17wqfIv_To1EzO2PRiDU2XTpvbo9HYoDg_ald_Hgpd3xLSeQNf7eoKoV-CBGeWY6VADB07Tr0GexY-zzaE87/s1600-h/four.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQVKFqwhwP4FO0k4ikkpV1bmtO827qFMD9mvA2crGm3TlFrRC17wqfIv_To1EzO2PRiDU2XTpvbo9HYoDg_ald_Hgpd3xLSeQNf7eoKoV-CBGeWY6VADB07Tr0GexY-zzaE87/s320/four.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230134569143452642" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is the two pouch slings I made from one of my Moby wraps.<br />I've actually used the slings like this a couple of times now.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9IxmUIjYbm8A5tA15L1bIFIxH0YLTqkB6YdccMbS7OhDvKWikp41YEot_uTcwXjwvN5AAaqKUQ9WBUcC8y463BLQ1k69VpXsC_Sd75qn1bY_cjpDdavjhgZGLJ9XiA06NeVx/s1600-h/tandem.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9IxmUIjYbm8A5tA15L1bIFIxH0YLTqkB6YdccMbS7OhDvKWikp41YEot_uTcwXjwvN5AAaqKUQ9WBUcC8y463BLQ1k69VpXsC_Sd75qn1bY_cjpDdavjhgZGLJ9XiA06NeVx/s320/tandem.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230132906349775218" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is the stroller I push the kids in each day almost 2 miles. The work out is worth it!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTdFrsQ2-by1JxTE-16owBN62GC48YFZCPDo9904cA6EwA8Q9adWKg8wdUN9O6948UVRT4KsXiEdiuyR9VCv9rnZSbiksrhWUUiJNVZhCcUbqTv7TiNB1gMfyjZPGENsj7fyd/s1600-h/stroller.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTdFrsQ2-by1JxTE-16owBN62GC48YFZCPDo9904cA6EwA8Q9adWKg8wdUN9O6948UVRT4KsXiEdiuyR9VCv9rnZSbiksrhWUUiJNVZhCcUbqTv7TiNB1gMfyjZPGENsj7fyd/s320/stroller.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230133248666820754" border="0" /></a>Here are the two little ones chillin' on the counter while I cook. I have pictures of the older two doing the same thing, actually. My kids hang out here often.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaGooLWcUJ-rNZCW6o7esKcv5EYuI_m8q5i70urlBuiYxUWqzn5_H5R_dT8ZW8OmQp9s4hnkis11twZcfjwpaPRtzhp4fl1OeWBglEoXlt3ag2mOYkFMzcpcX5IXgTfS291n3/s1600-h/counter.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaGooLWcUJ-rNZCW6o7esKcv5EYuI_m8q5i70urlBuiYxUWqzn5_H5R_dT8ZW8OmQp9s4hnkis11twZcfjwpaPRtzhp4fl1OeWBglEoXlt3ag2mOYkFMzcpcX5IXgTfS291n3/s320/counter.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230133585171437794" border="0" /></a><br />Here are the four of them on a rock at the zoo.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aix7ulZDZLWHBv-fdzyZmsXwHnVU1mgInKGaAewZH7lbNua1TELflLDvvIpaE9W4l5odcepPXspvTwoOJkvviq8xgsVc13QP-248wFsuDxLWXnGfXHBa5WkzXlwD32iB0Zq8/s1600-h/rock.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aix7ulZDZLWHBv-fdzyZmsXwHnVU1mgInKGaAewZH7lbNua1TELflLDvvIpaE9W4l5odcepPXspvTwoOJkvviq8xgsVc13QP-248wFsuDxLWXnGfXHBa5WkzXlwD32iB0Zq8/s320/rock.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230134573966433106" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Here is one of Rugger climbing the ropes at the Pittsburgh Zoo.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukc-e1uP47olISydrjMfchZFKDG6tu0gzYBLRsbfsNE5sW60CaLa60OxnG1WZRjademhKQiHYMHVogXb8YGMBgi8Pw2DnfrV0nS_sKqucJrtzkhJmfvdXYBUIe8pFBVdEhaER/s1600-h/climbing.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukc-e1uP47olISydrjMfchZFKDG6tu0gzYBLRsbfsNE5sW60CaLa60OxnG1WZRjademhKQiHYMHVogXb8YGMBgi8Pw2DnfrV0nS_sKqucJrtzkhJmfvdXYBUIe8pFBVdEhaER/s320/climbing.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230133913358180290" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Here is Pumpkin sliding at the same place as the ropes.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXHP7_QE5AhTW_rP9wpixH7QtPrkI4suhM-ecCIQdM69CjVY34x0swkOdwBBUYOmmFGdf7m-zAgeQRlvhn9K28f5Nb9eL5MCMLk9_KG4ivDPIP3b5EHQic2NvmlLbcEqeyD6F1/s1600-h/sliding.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXHP7_QE5AhTW_rP9wpixH7QtPrkI4suhM-ecCIQdM69CjVY34x0swkOdwBBUYOmmFGdf7m-zAgeQRlvhn9K28f5Nb9eL5MCMLk9_KG4ivDPIP3b5EHQic2NvmlLbcEqeyD6F1/s320/sliding.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230134567996993778" border="0" /></a><br />At the hotel the kids had way too much fun<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-k6uuw-LNNNUOJO9KsoJrEqLMNNRhhT_gaHflz8KmVgkX_i1qvd01aTyaJTVR6p0dwIBF1lnPTPcL20UgLaFVefrQOBnZUsiPaIWY27uv70Uzj0UrhMcq6etzR5T83-e5RiY/s1600-h/jumping.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-k6uuw-LNNNUOJO9KsoJrEqLMNNRhhT_gaHflz8KmVgkX_i1qvd01aTyaJTVR6p0dwIBF1lnPTPcL20UgLaFVefrQOBnZUsiPaIWY27uv70Uzj0UrhMcq6etzR5T83-e5RiY/s320/jumping.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230134570517024322" border="0" /></a>And lastly, here is a link to a place where I posted some pictures of me tandem nursing or the kids co-sleeping:<br /><br />http://www.naturallyparentingtwins.com/drupal/<br /><br />It's a great site where I don't feel weird for parenting the way I do!Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163270.post-1131836290622030422008-08-02T22:21:00.002-04:002008-08-02T22:44:26.303-04:00Growing So QuicklyWe went to the Erie Zoo yesterday, just the six of us, and we had a pretty good time. The babies slept on the way there while the older two watched Sponge Bob (and Rugger only asked once about 5 minutes out if we were there yet.) So Boom and I got to chat some without any interruptions, which was nice.<br /><br />It's amazing how just a couple of months can make such a big difference. In April my parents went with me and the kids to the same zoo, and the babies hated it. Wanted held (by only me) all day. This time they loved it - the train, the carousel (though Birdie was scared once the ride actually started up and needed held), even the animals. Birdie would do her sweet little amused giggle when she saw the animals move, and Booger would point if we pointed to something (though he didn't aways see what we were looking at as was evidenced by his pointing to a rope while Daddy was pointing to the animal BEYOND the rope!)<br /><br />We ate lunch at the playground and the older two couldn't wait to play, so we pushed the babies for awhile in the swings. I do wish this zoo was bigger, but it makes it easy to go up and head home. The downside is the ride there is an hour, as is back, of course, so that kind of stinks for the gas and time.<br /><br />But these past couple of days have been good to me. The babies are at a good stage right now, for the most part. They can climb this little stairs and slide set I got from our church's thrift store for 5 dollars. Birdie slides on it the "correct" way sitting up, and Booger will laugh and just throw his body on it belly down and slide down feet first. Birdie has taken a liking to stuffed animals (and dolls until I made one "talk"to her) and will hug them to her chest which is too cute! Booger still is such a stinker and will sniff out the remotes and phone (he actually dialed 9-1-1 the other day so I have to really hide it now) and will eat paper, dirt, and dog food like I don't feed him or something!<br /><br />I just look at them and I love this age. Their little curls at the napes of their necks, their fine hair and bright eyes. Their waddling little gait and huge grins just because. They seem on the verge of using actual words, which I can't wait for.<br /><br />It's strange. I don't want any more kids, and I really don't want to be pregnant ever again (not that I could - we took care of it on Boom's half), but there was a part of me that recalled being at all the zoos last year when I was pregnant, and I must admit that a part of me is sad that that stage in my life is over. I will never again be with child or birth one into this world. And I don't want to - but it's just strange that being a woman means that you wear different hats in your life, more so I think than men. And two of those hats have forever passed in my lifetime for me. I was more than blessed to have known them, and I will enjoy the next phase probably more so. But still, it was strange knowing that that part of me is gone, if you will.<br /><br />It was sweet. Thursday night I was walking in the yard holding Booger's hand, and he would take a few steps, then look up at me and smile, walk some more, look up and smile. And my heart just melts. These two are definitely at the point where I really start enjoying the journey. I look at Rugger and Pumpkin and I can't believe how they've gotten here so quickly.<br /><br />Rugger says to Boom yesterday "Don't eat all that, Daddy - we just bought it!" regarding the Nutella. What he doesn't know is that it' s been ME eating it all up! He moved all the toys out of the yard so Boom could mow, even though Boom wasn't home, yet. I can't recall what it was that Pumpkin said the other day that impressed me, but she is getting too smart for me sometimes. I love it :)<br /><br />Well, I'm going to see if I can change the template for my blog now that I have DSL...Debbie Penleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16844527041597446726noreply@blogger.com0