tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84848447282027375702024-03-13T14:52:05.077-05:00LoveLoveCourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.comBlogger510125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-60645394597528976222016-05-05T10:13:00.002-05:002016-05-05T10:21:21.642-05:00Letting Go I've been spring cleaning for the last two weeks. I'm not sure that that's even an appropriate title for it though, since what I'm really doing is cleaning one area of this place while the kids destroy another. So lets just say I entertain myself with cleaners, scrubbing, and organizing in different areas of the house until it is no longer recognizable that I did so, and I either choose to repeat the process or hide in my closet with a book and check out of life for a little bit. <br />
<br />
So yes. Our school room had become a room piled with books and curriculum, notebooks and crafts. I spent much of the day sifting through and reorganizing piles of papers while walking around this little baby rocking seat. It's the same one I'd set Adeline in as a baby and rock with my toes while I stirred dinner. The same one I'd sit Gideon in while I potty trained Adeline. The same one Selah sat in while her older sister and brother would perform tricks for her to watch and wonder at. The same one all three of the older ones would push Ryder around in a train of little children I'd made. It's been forgotten and unoccupied in this room for a year now, and I'd walked around it from one pile to another all morning. I am not a stuff person. I don't tend to covet things. It is quite easy for me to give things away or throw them out. So I thought I'd take this chair, a purple Bumbo I used for all 4, and the high chair that has been collecting dust in the corner of my kitchen, and let them go. <br />
<br />
A year and nine months ago my baby was born through what was an extremely traumatic birth. Here on this blog I have a birth story for all of my other three, but I've never been able to share about Ryder's because it's hard enough to think about, impossible to speak about, and just too soon to share even almost two years later. Because all 4 of my pregnancies threatened my own life and the life of the babies I carried we spontaneously chose to have my tubes tied after prominent urging from medical professionals that I trusted. Pregnancy was the hardest thing I'd ever been through, and to think it was finally just a piece I could lay in the past was something I thought I was ready for. 10 hours after the procedure my husband left my side and went home to care for our 3 older children. He called me on his way home and said a sentence I never saw coming and will likely never forget. "I'd do anything, pay anything, to ever undo this surgery." <br />
<br />
All of the bravery I'd mustered suddenly vanished, and I immediately knew I'd made a mistake. I looked down at the baby in my arms and knew I'd never get to do this again. The pain inside of me was completely unbearable, and I cried uncontrollably for days. Pregnancy was my ultimate low but my newborns. They were the high of my life completely erasing the trenches I tried to claw my way out of to bring them to this Earth. Those trenches were so deep only Jesus himself lifted me above and graced me with these gifts that blinded me of the battle it took to hold them. First baths, the smell of newborn skin, the way my heart felt as their daddy held them so small in his arms so strong, the long nights I never complained about because baby breath on my neck was enough to trump sleep deprivation. I live for it all. Every scoop of heavenly sweetness that a new life brings to my arms and my heart. <br />
<br />
and it was over for me. <br />
<br />
I'd wake up next to this little life nuzzled in between his daddy and me, and I'd cry that one day it would be the last time he fit so perfectly right under my neck to my elbow. <br />
<br />
People would pry as they do and question whether he was our last or not, and I'd try my hardest to fight my swollen throat to answer them and tears would beat my words out. <br />
<br />
He'd grow out of onesie sizes, and I'd look at the clothes and absolutely lose it because I'd never have a tiny body to put back in one. <br />
<br />
I was depressed for months with the overwhelming feeling that I took God's design for my family and signed a consent form to make it my design instead. I'd been weak for 41 weeks of pregnancy, and postpartum was usually my shine time, redemption. This time though, it was prolonged weakness that I could not rise above. It immersed me when I least expected it. Pumping gas looking into my car and watching his little chest rise up and down in his car seat while he slept. Nursing him and studying every single shade of blue in his eyes and memorizing the dimples in his hands. I felt more guilt than I could even sift through for the surgery, and today it is still the biggest regret of my life.<br />
<br />
<br />
But I wanted my strength back. I was tired of being so weak and tired of being so consumed with my mistake. I worked really hard at controlling my emotions. I was really good at turning happy on, and really good at masking sadness. Jesus was the only one who knew the true condition of my heart, and soon enough he asked me to trust Him with it. I became so emotionally exhausted every day I knew I didn't have a choice. So I began to pray that he'd fuse my tubes together and perform a miracle that I could use to to reflect his Sovereignty. It was hard to even pray the words because I knew placing my faith in them could either result in the miracle I was asking for or an empty hope and prolonged aching for it. I prayed anyway. <br />
<br />
And soon I let it go. <br />
<br />
That doesn't mean every now and then I don't pick it back up. <br />
<br />
It means I gave it away, and a lot of times I have to keep giving it away. <br /><br /> It means that I understand when He makes all things new, my burdens are considered, my mistakes redeemed. <br />
<br />
It means the ashes I waded through are being worked into beauty that will be for my good. <br />
<br />
I've got a promise, and I'm faithful whatever that looks like it will be greater than I could have ever chosen. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So I took the chairs that seated some of my most precious memories, and I walked outside and put them to the road. I arranged them respectfully near the curb, not too close to the road, but not to far away to be overlooked. I walked inside, and I cried. <br />
Then I walked back outside to bring them back. <br />
and they were gone. <br />
<br />
I let them go. <br />
<br />
I texted Philip at work and told him what I'd done. (I feel as though it is only fair to warn him on days like those about my emotional instability so that he isn't blindsided when he walks through the door at night) <br />
<br />
"What if we get to adopt a baby, and he or she won't have chairs?"<br />
(because I should also mention that when I am having "one of these days" I am also dumb as rocks.) <br />
<br />
He said:<br />
"We'll be just fine, ma."<br />
<br />
and I believe him. <br />
So I let it go. <br />
<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-2923194681036076982015-08-27T08:30:00.000-05:002015-08-27T08:42:16.679-05:00Selah Turns 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Three years ago today during a hurricane to our coast, this ray of pink and purple hazed sunlight was born.<br />
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You might think the sweetest things about her is her love for baby dolls, princesses, make up, and pretty shoes because she is all girl all the time by complete nature of her sparkly heart, but the sweetest thing about this Selah girl is her gentle love for this life. <br />
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There's a space in her daddy's heart reserved just for her, and she has this baby-girl type intuition as to when it's needing some loving. If his arms are empty and his lap is vacant you can find a little Tater Tot and probably a baby doll crawling up and nestling right in the place she's claimed as hers.<i> Don't ever stop.</i><br />
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She is so intuitive that she can choose the moment I think I'm secretly on verge of a breakdown to offer to brush my hair, which is a God-given gift of its own, because thank you Jesus that you gave me a girl who loves to brush my hair. <i>Thank you.</i><br />
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If her big brother and sister are bickering or wrestling or playing rough of any sort she's on the side begging them to stop and be soft, pleading for resolution or peace. <i>You make all the difference. </i><br />
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If her little brother is squirming or fussing to escape a diaper change, shes right above him stroking his hair line, and quietly singing her ABC's in his ear. <i>Sing every day.</i> <br />
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I hope her years are slow, steady, and sweet, I can't wait to see the
impact she makes to nurture this world and it's people. <br />
<br />
Baby girl you are so loved. Happy Birthday! CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-74038171042888548432015-08-27T07:19:00.003-05:002015-08-27T07:25:03.926-05:00Ryder's One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The baby just had his first birthday, and although he didn't have the slightest clue it was a special day that's just how immensely he is loved daily. </div>
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Ryder. You haven't been the easiest baby, but you could have been any way in the entire world, and I would have cherished you just the same. The day you were born was the hardest of my entire life, and next to the lump in my throat every day since has been a swollen part of my heart just for you boy. <br />
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You would think the fourth time around I would have grazed through the motions, knowing where every milestone corner leads us. I didn't though. I wiped the professional baby maker/caretaker slate clean, and I followed your every cue, every growth, every moment with a deep breath committed to cherishing every fleeting moment of your first year. It goes too fast, and forget the parenting stuff I thought I knew, that is the one thing I do know. <br />
<br />
and I was right.</div>
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Your head only held on to newborn smell for a few short weeks, but don't think I don't still smell it anyway. <br />
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Your toes wiggle now inducing giggles when I brush my fingers across them, that is if you're sitting still long enough for me to catch them. <br />
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I still kiss you, side ways on the bridge of your nose to your forehead, and despite the awkward positioning, I do it because I've done it since the day you were born, and I want to savor every day until I can't. <br />
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You still ball your fists up on my chest and cross your ankles on my lap when you nurse, and I would be lying if I said I don't close my eyes and pretend you were little enough again to not crawl away when you're done. <br />
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You are still the lightest sleeper on planet Earth, yet I still venture around you while you sleep to watch you dream.<br />
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The dishes, laundry, chores don't stand a chance on the days you doze off in my arms because there's not a thing out there that is more important to me than holding you close. <br />
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Happy 1st year, Ryder. <br />
Thank you for teaching me how to cherish the details in the short time they exist. <br /><br />P.S. I'm sorry that I sometimes still try to swaddle you. CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-84266816467812282002015-02-14T07:39:00.004-06:002015-02-14T07:41:48.134-06:00A Happy Birthday Letter to Gideon<div style="text-align: center;">
Gideon, <br />
Sometimes I feel bad that your birthday is on Valentine's Day. While the world is celebrating love, chocolates, and cheap stuffed animals holding hearts, we are celebrating you. Valentine's Day is a sweet day though, so your daddy always gets me those chocolate-covered strawberries I love so much along with valentine's for your sisters, because that's just what daddy's do. We bake you a cake, sing to you, squeeze on you, and get you presents too though, since your birthday will forever on trump Valentine's Day for me. You never mind sharing your birthday love, and I love that that's who you are. You really never mind sharing anything. I sometimes watch in confusion as you often sit next to a sister during a movie with a tiny corner of blanket to cover with, while the rest are bundled under wrinkles and layers of the same blanket. My heart swells when I'm handing out snacks, or dinner plates, or really anything and you deliver to everyone else before taking yours. Even playing with your sisters you are such a natural born gentleman with taking turns and sharing toys. You are the perfect Valentine's Day child. Such a lover, sharer, and giver of joy. </div>
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As equally as you are sweet, you are courageous. Curious. Lover of wild things. You take risks that make my pulse race. At our non existent annual Kebodeaux award ceremony, you would receive the "resilience award". That's just a pleasant title for the award meaning you get hurt more often than any one else because you chase adventure, and often times split your chin open, bang your head, or bruise your tiny body while doing so. Then after a short cry you shake it off and do it again. Resilience award. At our award ceremony that is not even a thing. You're welcome son, but thank your daddy because you get this from him-not me. </div>
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You are smart beyond expectation. You drew the state of Texas on a magnadoodle at freshly 3 years old, when I didn't even know you knew Texas was in existence. I often think while Adeline and I are doing 1st grade school work you are jumping off of the couch saving Selah from pirates but really I think you are multitasking and learning to read as you fly through the air, past the ottoman, only to land on the dog/the pirate. Because when you pass by the table chasing Scarlet with a plastic sword and finish the sentence your sister is reading and she wants to punch you, please understand that it is only out of awe that you even had enough brainpower directed our way while fighting the lazy eye, underbite canine pirate in the living room. You are so bright my guy. You're welcome. Because I'm going to claim that trait. </div>
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You are lover of the skies. The moon, starts, and sun. Every night you confess your dreams of being an astronaut, and I can't help but to listen to your stories of fantasies on rocket ships bouncing from star to star, planet to planet as I sit captivated by the way your eyes light up when you talk about exploring the moon. I can't blame you, dude. Space stuff is so cool. Like you. and your hair. because you have really cool hair. So cool that I get snappy at strangers who bend over to tell you it needs to be cut out of your face. You just swipe it to the side and hug them. Because that's how entirely cool you are, Gideon. </div>
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Most days my mom uniform includes sweat pants, a tee shirt, and a messy bun. Some days I brush my hair, put some make up on, and wear denim. Every single one of those days you tell me I am beautiful. Every one of them.You usually don't want anything, and you always mean it. I'll never forget a few months ago, looking in the mirror at myself feeling pretty bad. Ryder was just a few weeks old, and I sat there with my tired eyes and observed a body I didn't even recognize. I took my hair down and started to brush 3 days worth of tangles as the lump in my throat grew and I fought tears. You walked in and saw me brushing my hair and you said with a gasp in your voice, "Mommy, you are so beautiful. I love you so much." and I love you way more than that sweet guy. I wish I could believe that this was exclusive to you and me, but it's not. On days that Adeline sits by her bedroom window playing dolls and the sun runs through her dirty blonde hair, you stop throwing pillows at her fan blades to tell her how beautiful she is. On days that Selah hijacks my make up and does some really interesting art things with eyeshadow all over her face, you tell her she is so beautiful even with make up that makes her look funny. Teenage girls walk in to Chic-fil-et next to us, and you charm them with compliments as they melt at the way you exaggerate your 'u' in 'beautiful'. You're going to make a stellar husband one day. Until then, I'm glad you're mine. </div>
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You were my hardest pregnancy. You were my hardest labor. You have been the easiest baby, my Gideon. I'd do it all again and again for you. I don't feel a sadness because your older today, but I do feel an enormous amount of gratitude that I get the honor of watching your charm and love unfold into this personality I'm so in love with. You are so loved, Gideon. Happy Birthday.</div>
CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-55831109065205396112015-02-05T09:56:00.001-06:002015-02-05T09:56:30.519-06:00My 6-year Old<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rLqFHnN3_MM/VNOOEW6wFyI/AAAAAAAAF_c/tZjJoTCDbac/s1600/027.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rLqFHnN3_MM/VNOOEW6wFyI/AAAAAAAAF_c/tZjJoTCDbac/s1600/027.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6905TFooHYA/VNOO6w5_tqI/AAAAAAAAF_s/HH1GlnbONig/s1600/024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Oh, my girl. <br />6 years ago right now we were in a stuffy hospital room with handsy nurses and an idiot doctor with a golf game to get to. It had been such a hard pregnancy, such a long wait. There was a couple of points where my life was in danger, and then one point where hers was. The doctor sent me home at 20 weeks pregnant with a "50% chance of losing her". I had been at my weakest up until then, but when that percentage was tossed at my feet, and that clinic room door slammed I rose up. She rose up. We've been battling together since that day. 15 hours of hard labor with a doctor constantly threatening me with surgery if we didn't meet her timeline. We did not. But as Adeline likes to do, she made her own. 5:25, 20 minutes of pushing and I was a momma to an 8lb 1oz 21inch long baby girl. <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hLSmR2261Sg/VNOOr5_iLoI/AAAAAAAAF_k/PQz4ck2-hXs/s1600/068.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hLSmR2261Sg/VNOOr5_iLoI/AAAAAAAAF_k/PQz4ck2-hXs/s1600/068.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />She didn't take it easy on breaking me in either. <br />We had nursing issues for 6 weeks until we finally got everything right. <br />She had colic tendencies and cried ALL of the time. <br />The only way she would sleep was on my chest. <br />The only way she was content was if we walked circles around our house bouncing and swaying. <br /><br />Toddler and preschool years were not much different. <br />She reached milestones weeks and months early only preparing herself and me to get into trouble earlier than the rest. <br />Early walker, talker, and learner which was equally bitter as it was sweet. <br />We would rate her temper tantrums in "Category 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5s". <br />The 5s were bad. Those required both of us. <br />So many nights we'd lay in bed repenting our mistakes, questioning our methods, and searching our hearts as to the best way to parent this strong-willed beautiful hurricane child.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6905TFooHYA/VNOO6w5_tqI/AAAAAAAAF_s/HH1GlnbONig/s1600/024.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6905TFooHYA/VNOO6w5_tqI/AAAAAAAAF_s/HH1GlnbONig/s1600/024.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />She's always been sensitive. Always been passionate. Always tough. <br /><br />There hasn't been much that came easy when it came to Adeline. <br />Except loving her. <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C5VdGjiO6xQ/VNOHs6LWIeI/AAAAAAAAF_M/v-J-Xmwd6iQ/s1600/042.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C5VdGjiO6xQ/VNOHs6LWIeI/AAAAAAAAF_M/v-J-Xmwd6iQ/s1600/042.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a>There is no challenge that could make us love her any less. No trait. No flaw. <br />I love Adeline as passionately as she loves this life. <br />As passionately as she loves Jesus. <br />As passionately as she loves people. <br />As passionately as she loves that stuffed turtle she's had since she was 4 months old.<br />As passionately as she loves art, dance, and creating. <br />As passionately as she loves to cuddle with her daddy. <br />As passionately as she loves babies, particularly mine. <br /><br />And if you know Adeline, then you know that means I love her a lot. <br />We are celebrating 6 years of passion and life and so much unconditional love for this child today. Happy Birthday my sweet Adeline Jean. <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IaqgocbseZo/VNORZf1lGoI/AAAAAAAAF_4/zGft2zs0GCc/s1600/060.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IaqgocbseZo/VNORZf1lGoI/AAAAAAAAF_4/zGft2zs0GCc/s1600/060.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br /><br />
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and because do come here often to see posts about the kids I've written in the past, I found this question post on her 3rd birthday entry. I re-asked her all of the same questions, and I was surprised most of them haven't changed. <br /><br />1. What is your favorite color? green<br />
2. What is your favorite toy? my turtle<br />
3. What is your favorite fruit? apple <br />
4. What is your favorite tv show? Doc McStuffins<br />
5. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? Jelly and Butter sandwich <br />
6. What is your favorite outfit? Mickey and Minnie pajamas<br />
7. What is your favorite game? hide and go seek<br />
8. What is your favorite snack? crackers and peanut butter<br />
9. What is your favorite animal? Turtles!<br />
10. What is your favorite song? 'Let it Go'<br />
11. What is your favorite book? Tinkerbelle<br />
12. Who is your best friend? Lily!<br />
13. What is your favorite cereal? Apple Jacks<br />
14. What is your favorite thing to do outside? <span style="color: black;">ride my bike and scooter</span><br />
15. What is your favorite drink? tea<br />
16. What is your favorite holiday? <span style="color: black;">my birthday</span><br />
17. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? <span style="color: black;">My turtle</span><br />
18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? pancakes<br />
19. What do you want for dinner on your birthday? <span style="color: black;">tacos</span><br />
20. What do you want to be when you grow up? mommy<br /><br />Oh kid. Here's to six. CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-89327677425106792602014-12-22T14:25:00.000-06:002014-12-22T14:29:14.010-06:00Ryder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKLpqsJHj60/VJh3rszwEcI/AAAAAAAAF9o/c_aDqSQ0GE0/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
There was this really rad cookie recipe I had memorized and posted on this blog years ago. <br />
With 4 kids and a million responsibilities I forget everything that was ever even "memorized", so I sat down here to look up the link. <br />
<br />
Then I read back to all of the words I threw out on the internet over the years and got embarrassed and walked away. Now I'm back looking at pictures and stories and statistics of all of my babies that I had forgotten I so adequately recorded.<br />
<br />
So here I am, half of my kids are napping at present, one working on school work, and the other at my lap gnawing on my thumb as I type. <br />
<br />
Oh that one's my newest, Ryder.<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NAbO_5YmSoY/VJh3rHrNC8I/AAAAAAAAF9g/fQjOHlCvqfU/s1600/042.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NAbO_5YmSoY/VJh3rHrNC8I/AAAAAAAAF9g/fQjOHlCvqfU/s1600/042.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
He was born August 25th, at a time I'd have to go look up because I don't remember. <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AvdXnNEvTXM/VJh8vHVcOkI/AAAAAAAAF98/8YQCh0MApi0/s1600/060.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AvdXnNEvTXM/VJh8vHVcOkI/AAAAAAAAF98/8YQCh0MApi0/s1600/060.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
He was 9lbs 9oz, my biggest most chunkiest overdue baby! <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M-iuTOBQe5s/VJh3q-vzTHI/AAAAAAAAF9c/YtCCECWdl3o/s1600/041.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M-iuTOBQe5s/VJh3q-vzTHI/AAAAAAAAF9c/YtCCECWdl3o/s1600/041.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
Birth is incredible. <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uNjPwemtaaI/VJh8woALCUI/AAAAAAAAF-M/btEWqygUupU/s1600/093.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uNjPwemtaaI/VJh8woALCUI/AAAAAAAAF-M/btEWqygUupU/s1600/093.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
I've done it 4 different times, 4 different experiences, and there is no one word that comes close to describing it.<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yvmYo1MfwbU/VJh8xuMSo4I/AAAAAAAAF-k/mUzboPpNrf0/s1600/136.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yvmYo1MfwbU/VJh8xuMSo4I/AAAAAAAAF-k/mUzboPpNrf0/s1600/136.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
Incredible comes closest. <br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fyvDDIlcno0/VJh8v7r9L2I/AAAAAAAAF-E/IRgucQAMrzg/s1600/068.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fyvDDIlcno0/VJh8v7r9L2I/AAAAAAAAF-E/IRgucQAMrzg/s1600/068.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
It's the one day that's simultaneously the worst and best day of your life. <br />
A day filled with excruciating pain only to be quickly soothed by an abundance of love you never knew existed. <br />
Every single emotion packed in a matter of hours. <br />
Vulnerability masked with the epitome of strength. <br />
Complete joy accompanied with continual tears. <br />Exhaustion beyond what a human is capable of experiencing, but as if one miracle was not enough, we get through that too. <br /><br />I thought about writing about Ryder's birth, but now, almost 4 months later I still don't have the composition or the controlled emotions from that day. <br />But he is<br /><br />incredible. <br /><br /><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pkpVtMxb62g/VJh8xAHI3KI/AAAAAAAAF-Q/SsLtpUcoTI8/s1600/126.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pkpVtMxb62g/VJh8xAHI3KI/AAAAAAAAF-Q/SsLtpUcoTI8/s1600/126.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a><br />
2014 hurt. <br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKLpqsJHj60/VJh3rszwEcI/AAAAAAAAF9o/c_aDqSQ0GE0/s1600/003.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKLpqsJHj60/VJh3rszwEcI/AAAAAAAAF9o/c_aDqSQ0GE0/s1600/003.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
It was hard. <br />
But we overcame, and I have a whole new, precious life to love, and for that reason, 2014 wasn't all that terrible. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKLpqsJHj60/VJh3rszwEcI/AAAAAAAAF9o/c_aDqSQ0GE0/s1600/003.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xq0GJhRn4a8/VJh8x5HzTLI/AAAAAAAAF-Y/QCE2Ej52BQs/s1600/161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xq0GJhRn4a8/VJh8x5HzTLI/AAAAAAAAF-Y/QCE2Ej52BQs/s1600/161.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RaU7md0aYBw/VJh8yyFAI9I/AAAAAAAAF-s/Wl2M8vrkYW4/s1600/226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RaU7md0aYBw/VJh8yyFAI9I/AAAAAAAAF-s/Wl2M8vrkYW4/s1600/226.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wui8BTrPh8Y/VJh8yz1TAuI/AAAAAAAAF-o/xBSMjctG1zs/s1600/190.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-19304768733346794442014-06-18T21:31:00.000-05:002014-06-18T21:40:19.904-05:00A Messenger's Journey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm pregnant. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> (taken December 25th, 2013, when I was maybe 4 weeks and joyfully able to function)</span><br />
Again. <br />
<br />
Like 30 weeks pregnant. <br />
For the fourth time. <br />
<br />
So, that's what's been up since I last wrote. <br />
Puke, heartburn, sciatica, exhaustion, swelling, carpel tunnel, pain, hyperemesis gravardium, pain, fainting, hospitals, depression for the second time in my life, healing, pain. <br />
<br />
I started blogging here when I was sick during my pregnancy for Adeline, my first, and have continued blogging over those 5 years and through my other pregnancies. I often go back and reread my frame of mind in different stages, and I was thinking how exhaustion let me abandon documenting this go round. <br />
So I'm writing for sake of those re-reading ronde-vous I take some times. <br />
<br />
After I had Selah in August of 2012 I remember looking around the hospital room as I held my newborn. Everything in me was prepared for this "last birth", and as I joyfully soaked in the end of pregnancy for me and the beginning of another tiny little life in my arms something in the back of my head said "hold tight".<br />
<br />
I changed out of my hospital gown shortly after giving birth and into my change of clothes, and as I glanced in that mirror in the bathroom, I remember thinking so clearly <i>I get me back.</i> I can wake up without throwing up, and I can move around without feeling weak and dizzy, and I can be a momma to the babies that need me instead of popping another dvd in while run cold water under my wrists praying that I don't throw up again. I would get to clean my house, and bend over to pick the toys up. I could go out in the heat and not have to worry about passing out or being embarrassed when my bladder loses control because I'm gagging on the scent of a perspiring human 10 feet away from me. <i>I get me back.</i> <br />
<br />
We brought our precious baby girl back to a house with no electricity in the middle of Hurricane Issac, my other two babies had developed bronchitis and pink eye while I was in the hospital. Some would call that stressful, but I was no longer pregnant, and not pregnant is when I'm better equip to conquer, and I was ON TOP OF THE WORLD.<br />
<br />
Newborns are exhausting. Especially to a nursing momma of two other little ones. So when Selah was just 2 weeks old and Philip rubbed her head and put his hand on my back, lowered his face to my ear and said "One more, momma. Don't you just want one more?"<br />
<br />
One more what?<br />
Hour of sleep? <br />
Sure. take her. <br />
<br />
I knew what he said though. Because he said it several more times over the course of weeks and months, until somewhere along that course of resistance God gave me a peace and a change of heart, and I knew we'd bring another baby into the world at some point. <br />
<br />
We were on our second ever family vacation. We had saved every last penny of our tax return and every dime in between to go to Disney world in December. We got there and I knew. <br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qeBQY9usoGs/U6JAcYOPgeI/AAAAAAAAF14/u9HCl_oKfa0/s1600/579.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qeBQY9usoGs/U6JAcYOPgeI/AAAAAAAAF14/u9HCl_oKfa0/s1600/579.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
The first trip on Space Mountain, I got off and told Philip, "I've got to be pregnant."<br />
His response was, "Cool." as he carried on down to the next attraction with Gideon on his shoulders. <br />
The rest of the day I kept thinking and wondering and tossing around dates in my head, but I know my body, and I knew I felt pregnant. We got to our hotel that night, and he made me take a test. <br />
The rule was: "If it's positive, then we know, and you take it easy on the rides and the trip and we thank God for the healthy baby and pregnancy we claim. If it's negative then don't stress another second over it and we have the vacation we saved for."<br />
The test was negative. <br />
and Philip was positive we were not pregnant. <br />
<br />
But I've been there a time, or three, and my body was telling me I was.<br />
He pushed me to ride and have fun, and vacation as if I weren't carrying a tiny little baby, and any time I tried to tell him of a symptom, he'd tell me to chill out and quit being crazy. <br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-errvIOG9q40/U6JAKTciY9I/AAAAAAAAF1w/GINzJbhA4Wg/s1600/069.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-errvIOG9q40/U6JAKTciY9I/AAAAAAAAF1w/GINzJbhA4Wg/s1600/069.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a><br />
We had one of the best weeks of our lives that week. It was so fun. Our last night in the parks, we stayed out until 2 am. 3 zonked out babes in strollers and in our arms, and we just soaked in those last moments of vacation wonder. Ya'll we even made out in Paris. Kinda. Paris World Showcase in Epcot. and by made out I mean that we kissed for lasting seconds for probably a half a minute.<br />
<br />
We went back to the hotel and I packed all of our things up for hitting the road the next morning as the rest of my people dreamed of Mickey bars and princesses along the tune of "It's a Small World." I slept three hours before the alarm woke me up, and when it did. <br />
<br />
I was pregnant. <br />
I knew. <br />
No denying it. So I took the other test from the pack and it was pretty positive. <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LHwui4I_sAk/U6JAcRrYHBI/AAAAAAAAF18/pZP_J0I8kRk/s1600/690.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LHwui4I_sAk/U6JAcRrYHBI/AAAAAAAAF18/pZP_J0I8kRk/s1600/690.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
So we're in this thing again. <br />
<br />
and it was hard. <br />
Again. <br />
<br />
My HG diagnosis was early this time, and my hospital admissions were more frequent. <br />
The stress was intense, and like my pregnancy with Gideon, depression flooded me. <br />
No matter how hard I cried out for Jesus, I felt abandoned, lonely, sick, and broken. <br />
<br />
For all of the early months I cried. Daily. I missed Adeline and Gideon's birthdays in February because I was too sick to even leave the bathroom floor. March came and I was worn down. <br />
I had such horrible side effects to the medications that were keeping me alive that I stopped taking them. I went to the doctor for a regular check up one Thursday, and I drove myself for the first time in weeks. I didn't faint, I didn't throw up, I just.... had a check up.... and made it through alone without my body going all dramatic in front of strangers. I drove home. I wanted a burger. <br />
I was not stupid enough to eat a burger, but I wanted one. That alone was an immediate victory. Those few normal tasks were absolutely an extraordinary happening. My friend texted to check and see how my appointment went, when I told her about my burger craving, and that I came home to eat a lolly pop, and something else small I can't remember now, but neither of which came up. She told me there were a couple dozen people fasting and praying for me that day, when two days before that I was in a hospital bed where I was so malnourished that for a short time we feared we had lost our baby. She let me know that some of them would be coming to my house that evening to pray with me, which yea, I was cool with. People prayed a lot with me and for me during these months, and I appreciated every single word, but at this point, I had lost hope because not a single prayer had changed my condition. <br />
<br />
I was laying on the couch around 4:30 when in a moment I saw shadows overcome my windows. All of my windows. Simultaneously. I got scared enough to almost puke on the couch right there. I looked out of my back door where two dozen people were gathered at my home to pray for me. I am a forgetful person. Notoriously forgetful. But I will never forget the evening that people who had no idea where my wicked gross heart was in those hard, hard weeks were gathered around and being my strength when I didn't deserve it. Praying for me. Declaring healing and life into me. and showing me that I was worth every breath that my aching savior was breathing into me as I slowly started to turn my back on Him. <br />
I have never been so simultaneously broken and rejuvenated in my life. <br />
I have never seen Jesus show up, the way He did through my friends in my back yard that day. <br />
I will always be grateful for those hearts.<br />
<br />
That weekend I ate food, and fed ducks, and sat up on the couch, and walked to the bathroom by myself. <br />
<br />
and we believed I was healed. <br />
Because I was healed. <br />
I was healed of the depression and the debilitating sickness that left me literally clinging for my life on 3 separate occasions this pregnancy. <br />
I was healed of the lies I was beginning to believe of my worth and the value and plans of the life inside of me. <br />
I was healed. <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9lH6kcEkPqo/U6JEzSbN30I/AAAAAAAAF2M/TQdMnyz-ccA/s1600/499.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9lH6kcEkPqo/U6JEzSbN30I/AAAAAAAAF2M/TQdMnyz-ccA/s1600/499.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
and I clung to that so hard. <br />
<br />
The HG wasn't gone completely, but soon enough it had relented enough to give me life back again. <br />
<br />
During my pregnancies I struggle a lot with this sickness, and have always had real struggles with my relationship with Christ during this time. This time, while the sickness and ailments have been a little worse on my body, Jesus has held me through, just as he did all the others, but this time I held on back. <br />
<br />
My health has taken a plunge lately, as the sickness has been intensifying in a relapse type fashion. The best way to ease it is to take medicine that gives me side effects that I would rather suffer without it. The goal is to not have en empty stomach, so I am constantly having to eat, when it is the last thing I often want to do. Then, we battle to keep it down, and I have to eat again. It makes no sense. It has no reason, but it is what it is, and I'm in a place where I am being held, and loved on, and I just wanted to take a minute on this night, while my three are cozy in bed, and I am up, thank you insomnia, to revisit where He met me. Where He picked me up. Because sometimes we fall again, and need to just be picked up. Again.</div>
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xs5woogb37Q/U6JFP6SL3AI/AAAAAAAAF2U/kzH67twNidI/s1600/803.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xs5woogb37Q/U6JFP6SL3AI/AAAAAAAAF2U/kzH67twNidI/s1600/803.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
We both wanted a boy this time, and honestly from the very start, just knew we were having one. He has been such a calm little baby considering the chaos my body stores him in. We struggled on naming him though, mostly because Philip thinks I chose "hippie" names and I think he chooses "are you kidding me?" names. Both of which are probably accurate.<br />
<br />
I gave up though, because his will is stronger than mine. <br />
and I am tired. <br />
So he won. It's okay, I named the girls, he's got the boys. <br />
<br />
This little one is Ryder. <br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uEdfhTdLmVU/U6JGcuW7mmI/AAAAAAAAF2g/MWI75IFHs7s/s1600/013.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uEdfhTdLmVU/U6JGcuW7mmI/AAAAAAAAF2g/MWI75IFHs7s/s1600/013.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
His name means "A knight; a messenger" <br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ewaEKp1uLIg/U6JG3fNqLNI/AAAAAAAAF2o/6YP96rIvQV0/s1600/038.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ewaEKp1uLIg/U6JG3fNqLNI/AAAAAAAAF2o/6YP96rIvQV0/s1600/038.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a><br />
and it has been our prayer that he comes into this world with The Message. <br />
<br />
I am 30 weeks now, and basically am feeling about like this:<br />
http://courtneykeb.blogspot.com/2010/12/quick-little-update.html<br />
this:<br />
http://courtneykeb.blogspot.com/2010/12/31-weeks.html<br />
this:<br />
http://courtneykeb.blogspot.com/2012_06_01_archive.html<br />
this:<br />
http://courtneykeb.blogspot.com/2012/07/5-years-married.html<br />
and this:<br />
http://courtneykeb.blogspot.com/2012/07/diapers-and-bubbles-and-target-and.html<br />
<br />
heavy on the whining. <br />
heavy on the hurting.<br />
and even heavier on the heavy. <br />
<br />
But I'm almost done. <br />
and then <i>I get me back.</i><br />
<br />
Plus a little tiny messenger to love on, which does<br />
in the end<br />
make it worth it.<br />
<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-52640916204542440302013-11-19T16:16:00.001-06:002013-11-19T16:16:37.587-06:00A Memory Adventure to Preserve <div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fsTQVXhc4OI/UovR_lMO2DI/AAAAAAAAFtk/wHZHLr3pav8/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>I'm sitting in my chilly office chair while my three napping children are giving me my well-earned break of the day. <br />There's a big white spaced template in front of me, and it's been a while. <br /><br />My fingers are typing, and words are flowing through my fingers, but really instead of trying to articulate my thoughts best, I want to just upload my memory to this post. <br />I can enlarge and highlight the best parts, hide the inappropriate parts, and delete the regrettable parts. <br /><br />Memories are precious, and preserving them is priority. From a girl who's memory fails over and over again, it's just something I like to do. Preserve. <br />I like a trigger. A smell. A picture (<i>and if you know me, you know I like a picture), </i>a story. <br /><br />Years ago, before kids, before marriage, before responsibility, we made a few memories. Many we've let go of, willing to let them perish with time elapsed. Some we love to revisit. Like that one night.<br /><br />That night we were a couple of 18 year olds, and we skipped out on a family event to look for adventure. It was a cool night, cool enough for a jacket that smelled like too much cologne. Sugar cane had been burning, and the smell lingered in the air as we drove with the windows down and the music up. Philip was a carpenter at the time and had been working on a job framing this gigantic, two story mansion type home. At least that's what my young brain labeled it. People were in bed, and it was late as we went onto the dark property with a waterfront backyard view that we didn't have permission to be on. Only led by a small flashlight's beam Philip showed me things like woodwork and rooms that I nodded and pretended to care about. We climbed these stairs that had no rails so that we could tour the second floor, and although my usual frame of mind would have been panic, nervousness, and uneasiness, we were adventuring. So I was being adventurous. Which clearly meant climbing unsturdy stairs in the dark while trespassing on someone else's property. When we got to the top we saw every single star in the sky, only clouded by our warm breath on the cool late night. It was beautiful. Until I tripped over a power cord and then the neighbor's dogs started relentlessly barking until we finally had to escape because I was absolutely convinced we were going to go to jail. <br />It was a November 3rd, and I will remember it for the rest of my days. <br />Mostly because that night I wrote about it in my journal, and read it over and over again for years while smiling and remembering the details so sharply it was as if reading was reliving. <br /><br />It's been a while since we made a memory to remember. In the daily hustle of <i>Hey I'm a servant to life</i> we recently decided to get away and make a memory or two to remember. Just me and my guy. Us style. <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fsTQVXhc4OI/UovR_lMO2DI/AAAAAAAAFtk/wHZHLr3pav8/s1600/004.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fsTQVXhc4OI/UovR_lMO2DI/AAAAAAAAFtk/wHZHLr3pav8/s400/004.JPG" width="300" /></a><br />So, we picked a random place in Texas, and drove on over with zero plans, zero agenda, and adventure for a couple of kids ready to feel 18 again. <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qb9cifr0MT8/UovSCtGFzNI/AAAAAAAAFuA/O42gveZX438/s1600/052.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qb9cifr0MT8/UovSCtGFzNI/AAAAAAAAFuA/O42gveZX438/s400/052.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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We did tourist things like packed my purse with brochures and took pictures with Texas things. </div>
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and then we did super cool[er] things like eating out as a party of 2 instead of 5, and if you have or have had young children, and have also taken them into restaurants enduring scowling booth neighbors' looks, waitors' "Wow' ya'll have your hands full" type commentary, and one or more children playing the <i>hey lets throw all of our food on the floor</i> game, then you rejoice with me. </div>
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We did stop on a job for Philip to go in and work for a while, but I do not have a picture of it, meaning it never happened. (See that's where the delete the regrettable comes in). Also we caught 3 hours of Houston 5:00 Friday traffic, which I also chose not to document because I NEVER WANT TO REMEMBER THAT AGAIN. </div>
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and then we got to our hotel. </div>
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which is awesome. Well.... which I thought was awesome. You see, this is maybe the 3rd time I've ever stayed in a hotel in my life. Yes, so I thought hotels were super cool. There was a king sized bed, and I didn't have to clean up at all. Pillows are fluffy, and you get this super cool card scanner to unlock your door, and you feel super important, because hotels are for fancy adventure stays. </div>
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and then I had coffee in bed, which I did spill. THEN I woke up Saturday morning with a terrible crick in my neck from overfluffed pillows, and just when I thought I was going to have one morning of the rest of my life to sleep in, small children....<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P_otRGlZEAo/UovWroP-s0I/AAAAAAAAFvY/URp5MyOjysc/s1600/115.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P_otRGlZEAo/UovWroP-s0I/AAAAAAAAFvY/URp5MyOjysc/s320/115.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /> [<i>YES YOU READ SMALL CHILDREN] </i>must have been playing hot lava or<i> hey this floor might turn into a trampoline if we jump long and hard enough</i> at around 7am. So hotels aren't that cool, I have thus concluded. </div>
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But cool. Is The Cheesecake Factory. Romantic. Beautiful. Best salmon ever. Best cheesecake ever. <br />We ordered a piece to share for dessert, and then a piece to take home for breakfast. <i>Because we are adventurous grownups who can eat cheesecake in bed for breakfast.</i> Only these adventurous grown ups couldn't thinking clearly staying up til midnight and left the cheesecake in the car overnight. Philip determined 72 degrees outside was good enough chill to keep the cheesecake good though, so he did retrieve it from the floor of the car, and we did eat it for breakfast. Due to the prior coffee spilling incident we did not have it in bed though, but it was on a couch. and it was crazy.</div>
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My favorite part of this whole trip was that we never knew where we were stopping next. It was a whatever kind of weekend in the best way... which really goes against everything I am. But I liked it.</div>
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My second favorite part of this whole trip was that my husband is so hot. </div>
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aaaaand my third favorite part of this whole trip was that I mad my first skinny peppermint mocha of the season. Halleluiah </div>
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There was a gorgeous park or two that was wandered around. </div>
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There was a burger that was mighty fine. </div>
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and there was the first time ever I went into a Pottery Barn, and the temptation to cuddle under couch pillows and pretend it was my home. </div>
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THEN WE WENT TO THE MALL AND BOUGHT NOTHING FOR CHILDREN AND EVERYTHING FOR OURSELVES. <br /><i>everything as in a couple of small somethings.</i></div>
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Then my friends, we decided to ice skate for the very first time. </div>
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and while it was short lived, it was fun. After 2 laps holding the rails, I was able to finally break free until a small Asian child nearly took me out and then I quit. I will be back, and I will be better.</div>
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Let it be noted, Texas has bullets. and they are totally serious about it. </div>
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We visited a ranch and some old beautiful homes. I accidentally spilled water all over some vintage kitchen I wasn't supposed to be touching, but I did get a nice picture of this gnarly longhorn. </div>
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We Saltgrassed. </div>
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and it was bomb. Bomb as in good. Really fantastic good. Again, party of 2, ya'll. </div>
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We attended our first ever hockey game, and although we may have been the only ones there that were not friends or family of the actual hockey players, we yelled and cheered, and enjoyed every second. Ya'll. Hockey is hardcore. and we kind of love it. </div>
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We hiked and strolled around all of these beautiful nature spots where we were super annoying and held hands and kissed and Philip repeatedly fussed me for scaring animals away with my phone camera. It felt like an adventure, one I want to relive again and again. God gave me a best friend, and an adventure away to enjoy him. We were grateful.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bCBKiUG_ZiA/Uove11l5RVI/AAAAAAAAF0g/GKZQVCb4F6w/s1600/404.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bCBKiUG_ZiA/Uove11l5RVI/AAAAAAAAF0g/GKZQVCb4F6w/s400/404.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />The car ride was long, but easy, and we laughed more than we have in a long time. <br /></div>
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The weekend was short. Sunday came and we had children to travel home and poor tired babysitters to relieve. It kind of ached to come home. A piece of my heart was left in that weekend. on a November 3rd. </div>
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<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-10365707136241890272013-06-16T06:34:00.000-05:002013-06-16T18:05:49.217-05:00To the Best of Them All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's funny when I can draw back and recall moments that weren't photographed or blogged or talked about again and again. I am an obsessive and compulsive picture taker since about age 9 when my nanny gave me my first green and yellow 35mm film camera at my cooler than cool skating rink birthday party. I love taking pictures. I love looking at memories. I've always had a stupid dumb memory, and without photo evidence of a happening I'm in denial it even existed. <br />
<br />
So when moments come up in my ever forgetful brain, I feel like I've stumbled upon treasure. Sparkly, shiny treasure. <br />
<br />
and I remember that car ride on the way to see some band somewhere. The roads were dark, but we were playing Kadink, which was our normal who ever spotted more cars with one headlight out and said <i>kadink</i> while simultaneously hitting the roof of the car first (<i>because if you don't hit the roof while you say it you forfeit point) </i>game. I had on this khaki pleated skirt you bought me for Christmas and a polka dotted scarf tied tightly around my neck and in a bow, because it made me feel hip and cool, which obviously we were very of both. I'm pretty sure Underoath was on because I remember turning it down as I said, "So you want kids one day? Like how many you think you want?" <br />
and you just kept driving. turned the music back up while you shrugged your shoulders (<i>my friend it was dark, and no, I don't see well but I was watching you)</i> and then you smacked the roof of the car not missing a beat as you hollered "kadink". <br />
<br />
I suppose that was a totally appropriate response for a couple of idiot 17 year olds, and I can say that because trust me, we were idiots. <br />
<br />
And then I flash back to exhibit B memory when we were newly weds, had been married for oh, about 9 or 10 months and you were outside working on your boat. I was hanging around and invading your personal space because that's what I do when you're around. Then you said, "So uh, I want to buy a new boat motor." <br />
and just as I raised my eyebrows and gave you the look, because the month before you had bought a new gun and the month before this new reel you had to have for your fishing pole and we were broke and you were making us broker, I withdrew my immediate thought and almost response and threw this shocker at you. <br />
<br />
"Well I want a baby."<br />
<br />
You were going to tell me no. Because kids were not on your radar, we were broke, I was finishing up college, aaaaand we were broke. <br />
<br />
and that, my friend is when I bought Adeline with a boat motor. <br />
Okay, stop judging me we weren't Christians yet, that was totally an even exchange in our idiot world. <br />
<i>I know.</i>I want a kid. You want a boat motor. The very next month, I was knocked up, and you were cruising the open waters a little bit faster than you were the month before. <br />
<br />
I remember being 40 weeks pregnant with Adeline and begging you to rub my feet because I heard acupressure could help induce labor, and I was <b>desperate</b>. You refused because you were petrified. You wouldn't admit it then, and you probably wouldn't now, but you would not touch me because you didn't want "anything to happen wrong". <br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OlDLIgdGVqg/UbkyStC9n0I/AAAAAAAAFs0/1lx4CYWFJ_Y/s1600/050.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OlDLIgdGVqg/UbkyStC9n0I/AAAAAAAAFs0/1lx4CYWFJ_Y/s640/050.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
and then I remember when she came. I remember the smile you carried around for days. I remember when you were offshore and I called you over the phone to tell you I was pregnant for Gideon. I could hear the smile in your voice. I remember the day he was born, the confidence in your holding his tiny newborn body. I remember my terror turned into happiness as soon as you grabbed me and lifted me off of my feet when I told you Selah was coming along. <br />
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Because above all else out of no where we cranked out a handful of little babies, and all of a sudden the man in my life is a freaking awesome father, one I never knew you had in you. <br />I'm grateful for this daddy man you are to our three babies.<br /><br />
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I love that for each baby and each milestone there is another person as excited as me about that first step or funny baby phrase. I'm thankful that when you are home and Gideon does something messed up I have you to look at at laugh with. I'm thankful for the overflowing my heart does when we haven't seen you in day's and our babies have the biggest smiles on their tiny mini you faces when you walk in the door. I'm so glad I get to do this with you. You are my favorite.<br />
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God blessed me with the last 11 years with you, and the last 4 in which we've been parents have been my favorite. <br />
<br />
I'm thankful that when we screw this up, because sometimes we do we can just turn to the ultimate Father and let him teach us.<br />
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I'm so very grateful that beneath a sometimes hard exterior our children have a daddy who prays for them and with them.<br />
How did that happen? <br />
How did the idiot teenagers we were become parents and above that children of our Father in heaven? <br />
<br />
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Through grace. <br />
Oh my goodness we've gotten grace. <br />
<br />
Thankful. <br />
<br />
I love you Philip. <br />
and I don't take for granted a single moment you get to be home and be with us. <br />
You are an incredible father. <br />
and happy Father's day. <br />
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<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-41743671581847231492013-02-16T14:56:00.000-06:002013-02-16T15:08:29.925-06:00Oh, you know.Hey ol' loney blog of mine. <br />
Guess what I'm going? <br />
Just sitting here at my computer in my <i>office</i> <strike>in my penguin pajama pants</strike> being super fancy, having an office.<br />
Remember that extra room I had piled with excess junk and boxes and <i>maybe someone will need this one days</i>?<br />
No? Well if you've ever been to my house and asked to use my bathroom and I caught you mistakenly going for the door handle of <b>not</b> the bathroom but the room across from it [which is as described above] and I screamed in urgency as if I saw a gigantic spider near your feet so to distract you from opening the door and either a.) injuring yourself or b.) exposing my junk room? <br />
Welp. Cleaned that sucker out. <br />
It is how a full and functioning homeschool room. <i>Yea, I said it, homeschool--as in my own children -gasp-</i><br />
Or as I like to call it-- an <b>office.</b> <br />
Because important people get their own office.<br />
and I, my friend, am important. <br />
<br />
Also you missed my oldest turned 4, my boy turned 2, my youngest ate bananas and hated bananas and now loves bananas, loved peas but is maybe allergic to peas. Also she's going to be 6 months next week. I'm for real.<br />
<br />
Crammed in that was 34 appointments 57 birthday parties, bridal showers, and baby showers, a 30 turned 27 day fast on excess and food and spending and media, 2 books, 1 30 day devotional read, taxes that make me want to bang my head straight into my <i>office</i> desk, sniffles, snot, and coughing, bible studies, a new world of all natural cleaning, and a new purse because I'm no longer the frumpy diaper bag mom with three loud drooly things surrounding me/hanging from me/attached to me, but I am now the hip purse carrying mom.. still with three loud drooly things surrounding me/hanging from me/attached to me.<br />
<br />
So yea, there was all of that. <br />
and I wanted to adopt a puppy.<br />
He was cute, but Philip said I had to get rid of the ugly one we already have, which produced heartfelt tears and pleas to keep the spaz dog from my 4 year old. So I guess Scarlet will stay. <br />
<br />
Whoa.<br />
4 year old. What?<br />
<i>I have a 4 year old now. How'd that happen?</i> <br />
<br />
mmk. My <i>office</i> desk is next to a window, and it's cold making my fingers frozen and typing difficult. <br />
I have no other choice but to just click away and attach several annoying photos of my offspring before I hop on back over to Pinterest where I'll pretend I'm going to actually make the homemade wheat thins and pallet inspired chandelier all in avoidance of 63 dishes that need to be washed. <br />
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So that, in a nutshell, is what's been upeth.<br />
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I also have these <a href="http://courtneykeb.blogspot.com/2012/02/happy-birthday-adeline.html">birthday surveys</a> to save and store so you're welcome. <br />
[ AKA Boring to you but lovely to me:]<br />
Adeline @ 4<br />
<br />
1. What is your favorite color? green<br />
2. What is your favorite toy? My turtle. <br />
3. What is your favorite fruit? hmm, apples.<br />
4. What is your favorite tv show? Rapunzel<br />
5. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? Peanutbutter and jelly sandwich<br />
6. What is your favorite outfit? My turtle shirt in my bottom drawer that nanny gave me last night when we were eating dinner. <br />
7. What is your favorite game? The Wii.<br />
8. What is your favorite snack? Chips<br />
9. What is your favorite animal? Turtles!<br />
10. What is your favorite song? ABC's and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star<br />
11. What is your favorite book? My Rapunzel book I got at the library. <br />
12. Who is your best friend? Lily!<br />
13. What is your favorite cereal? I like a lot of cereal. <br />
14. What is your favorite thing to do outside? <span style="color: black;">Chalk</span><br />
15. What is your favorite drink? juice<br />
16. What is your favorite holiday? <span style="color: black;">Christmas</span> and my birthday<br />
17. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? <span style="color: black;">My turtle</span> and my dream light<br />
18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? pancakes<br />
19. What do you want for dinner on your birthday? <span style="color: black;">A cupcake.</span><br />
20. What do you want to be when you grow up? A mommy.<br />
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Gideon
@ 2 (and I am answering on his behalf because when asked, he only
demanded that I get him more water for every single question) <br />
1.
What is your favorite color?Oh sometimes blue. Other times orange.
Yellow every now and again except when it's red or purple. Green gets
some fame time too.<br />
2. What is your favorite toy? Cars <br />
3. What is your favorite fruit? bananas<br />
4. What is your favorite tv show? Preschool Prep Colors<br />
5. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? Macaroni and Cheese/ macaboni and weees<br />
6. What is your favorite outfit? pup pajamas<br />
7. What is your favorite game? Ring around the Rosie<br />
8. What is your favorite snack?Oatmeal. I know, weird.<br />
9. What is your favorite animal? Pups<br />
10. What is your favorite song? ABC' and Happy Birthday toss up <br />
11. What is your favorite book? Cat in the Hat<br />
12. Who is your best friend? Adeline. or Justin or Silas. <br />
13. What is your favorite cereal? YUPPIOOOOS (Cheerios) <br />
14. What is your favorite thing to do outside? <span style="color: black;">Run away.</span><br />
15. What is your favorite drink? water or chocolate milk<br />
16. What is your favorite holiday? <span style="color: black;">Take your diaper off and run around naked day.</span><br />
17. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? <span style="color: black;">13 miscellaneous toys.</span><br />
18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? pancakes<br />
19. What do you want for dinner on your birthday? pancakes.<br />
20. What do you want to be when you grow up? AWESOME<br />
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I approximate 20 more minutes until someone wakes up. Therefore, I have to go waste some more time looking at my fabric stash and pretending I'm going to make something... or something.<br />
<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-68736306807754622232013-02-04T17:58:00.000-06:002013-02-04T17:58:01.182-06:00Your Welcome<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Between 5:45 and 6:15 in the morning yesterday, I walked past my back door and into the kitchen to fix my first cup of coffee. <br />
A pallete of orange beamed through my windows, memorizing me and stopping me in my tracks. As I opened the door and stood outside in the cool morning air, God's majesty wrapped around me and took my breath away. It was the most beautiful sunrise I'd ever witnessed, and the only thing flawing the scene was me as I stood there in His perfectness with my morning hair birds' nest and no pants on. 60 seconds would unfold new waves or yellow and pink tangled into each other while sovereign shades of red transformed into peaceful purples. <br />
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These raw, unedited pictures don't even capture the beauty adequately. <br />
<br />
A silent moment in his stillness and in His perfection just adoring his beauty.<br />
A moment wrapped in extravagance and simplicity that I won't forget. <br />
<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-43424797300489569292013-01-22T09:08:00.003-06:002013-01-22T09:19:53.167-06:00Prayer for the Rashaida <div style="text-align: center;">
Heeey. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sorry I haven't been writing nnn stuff. </div>
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I've been a little occupied with God wrecking me and things of the like. </div>
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Don't worry though, I'm digging it. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I do want to drop in and ask for my prayers from my praying people. <br />
Philip and I have been doing <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Live-Dead-Journal-Unreached-Challenge/dp/1937830845/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358867559&sr=8-1&keywords=the+live+dead+journal">The Live Dead Journal</a>, [which has been an amazing experience in itself at only half way through.] and God is opening our eyes to groups of people and their cultures and the lives that don't even get the chance to hear about Christ. <br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
16,000 + groups of people in this world</div>
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6,800 of them with no active Christian witness. </div>
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We live where Jesus is known of, heard of, and spoken of.</div>
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There are places all over this Earth where people have not even</div>
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heard. His. name.</div>
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<a href="http://www.madote.com/2010/02/eritrea-rashaida-people.html">photo source </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.joshuaproject.net/people-profile.php?peo3=14523&rog3=SU">photo source and more information here</a></div>
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Our friends have started a <i>Give 12</i> Challenge asking for 12 minutes a day of prayer for 12 months for 12 different people groups. We've been praying for the Rashaida people.</div>
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They live in Sudan, and they are known for being fierce warrior people.</div>
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The cool thing about them is their gentle, welcoming hearts towards strangers. </div>
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If you go to their tents uninvited, they will most probably welcome you in for tea or coffee. </div>
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They make up about 100,000 Islamic people in their country, with almost no Christians.</div>
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Please can you pray for them with us? </div>
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Pray that God send them witnesses. </div>
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Pray that their welcoming hearts welcome Jesus Christ as the Savior that He is.</div>
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We are called to be Lights of this world, not just lights to lights. </div>
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Please give these precious, unreached people your prayers. </div>
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I know they are heard. </div>
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<span class="text 1John-5-14" id="en-NIV-30639">This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.</span><span class="text 1John-5-15" id="en-NIV-30640"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.</span> 1 John 5:14</div>
CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-25115073474192347872012-12-17T21:29:00.002-06:002012-12-17T21:37:17.377-06:00Love a Lamb Lovey/Selah's Sweet SheepMove over Turtle, there's a new lovey in the house.<br />
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Little tiny Selah baby is approaching 4 months old, and that's right about when Adeline found a stuffed sea turtle, and fell in love.(Gideon was too manly of a baby for a lovey ;) Actually Philip really wanted him to take on to this orangutang thing, but Gideon don't need no stinkin' stuffed animal to sleep.)<br />
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Coincidentally <a href="http://courtneykeb.blogspot.com/2012/03/and-we-have.html">this lamb</a> Adeline and I bought Selah the day we found out she was indeed a she is becoming this little baby's lovey. <br />
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Now I have mixed feelings about this.<br />
-This sheep has "spot clean" on the tag so I don't know how well it will stand to washes, and if it becomes anything like "T" (Adeline's turtle) it'll need some frequent washing.<br />
-I have no idea where or what company manufactured this, so I cannot get a back up, which I also learned is preferred to a child with a lovey addiction.<br />
-Also it's light colored. In one-two years it will be black. Keeping it real, maybe dark gray.<br />
<br />
But really when this baby cries or can't get comfortable falling asleep that sheep cuddles up next to her and it's done. She's out. and how sweet is it?<br />
Super sweet.<br />
Like you can't even stand it, sweet.<br />
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I should probably pick it up so Adeline stops sticking it everywhere Selah is, because she is starting to really love that lamb. Her eyes light up big, her breath speeds up, and her smile is uncontrollable when you whip the sheep out. <br />
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These girls and lovey probs.<br />
;) CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-15299376128964554002012-12-08T21:53:00.002-06:002012-12-08T21:53:24.600-06:00Apple PieI have an obnoxious amount of pictures from today when I made apple pie with Adeline while the babies were sleeping. <br />
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There was mess. There was bonding. and there was pie. <br />
All up in the kitchen.<br />
Sprinkled with cute.<br />
<br />
The end. CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-46156406314390417952012-11-30T10:19:00.000-06:002012-11-30T10:19:11.839-06:00Merry Merry Merry Merry Merry Merry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Peppermint lattes, the smell of pine, glitter-lots of glitter, cozy cuddles, gift wrapping, cookie baking, houses dressed with strands of lights, Christmas movies, music of the merry kind, and lots of story telling about a little baby who was destined to be our King.</div>
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Those things rock, and they <i>totally</i> override: spilling coffee on freshly mopped floors, trying to locate to fast children hiding behind green Christmas trees while camouflaged in green winter wear, broken glass from those cool old school lights hitting the cement, fixing burnt fuses on a latter with kids watching while your husband is in another state and explaining electrical things to you over the phone while you cry like a baby about doing "man work", those 4 glass ornaments among the 100 plastic ones that the toddler found and threw, the "he hit me. he pulled my hair. he looked at me. he touched me. he woke up.", the burnt cookies, the payday black Friday where bills ate our money instead of pretty things in Charming Charlie, and did I say broken glass already because there has been a lot of broken glass.</div>
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It is all so very worth it. I love this time of celebration in all of its prettiness, and for me new-found chaos. </div>
CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-61909428878583786672012-11-30T09:31:00.001-06:002012-11-30T09:31:25.621-06:00Selah 3 Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On the 27th this little pretty made 3 months. No lie 3 months already. Oh that Selah girl. She knows how I feel about precious so she's really good at being just that pretty much all of the time.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have no idea how much she weighs or how tall she is because I triple booked us on the day of her wellness visit, and I never rescheduled. I should do that. <br />
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I do know she's got some squishy thighs that I love to squeeze and bite though, so I'm thinking she's good on size. <br />
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She loves looking at people, and is such a sweet smiley baby. She's super ticklish on her ribs and belly and right below the left ear in the exact spot where her neck creases. She'll give you a good ole LOL for that spot. <br />
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Her most favorite past time is nursing, which she does so well. Her least favorite past time is sleeping through the night... which she did once from 10-4:15 and never again. </div>
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One day my girl. </div>
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Please make that soon. </div>
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We are busy people in a busy world, but when I'm in that rocking chair holding this precious, precious child the peace and joy that fills up my heart makes me so grateful to be her mother. </div>
CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-26278757329343367552012-11-16T16:46:00.001-06:002012-11-16T16:46:05.798-06:00Thanksgiving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love this.<br />All of it.</div>
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I mean I'm not so particularly in love with the snot, poop, screaming, mess, disobeying, puke... etc. but it comes with the package. </div>
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and I love the package. </div>
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A lot.</div>
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Pregnancy is a hard place for me. </div>
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My mind and body are really in difficult places during that time. </div>
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So when the yuck is done and over with I'm left with a bunch of precious baby, <strike>a disproportionate body</strike>, and so much <strike>sleepy hazed</strike> joy. It's a blessing to be well. </div>
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I told Philip yesterday:</div>
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<i>This is kind of the craziest my life has ever been, but it is truly the most joyful I ever remember it.</i></div>
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I mean that. </div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Lord has done great things for us! We are glad! Psalm 126:3 </span></div>
CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-1421836048136350182012-11-09T16:34:00.002-06:002012-11-09T16:36:36.303-06:00Thankfulness Goin On In Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hello today.</div>
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November day to be particular. </div>
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The month of Thanksgiving. </div>
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and I'm about to get thankful</div>
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all over this blog.</div>
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and in true <i>me</i> fashion</div>
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I'm going to make it obnoxious and fill it with pictures of the children I stalk with my iphone camera.</div>
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Because I'm their momma, and they'll thank me when they're older for capturing awesome things such as this:</div>
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and this:</div>
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Because enlarged nostrils, morning breath, and lazy lookin' eyes is what I like to call 'keepin it real.'</div>
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and while we're being real can I just say</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nfm1QQOJdV8/UJ12Bgh_hiI/AAAAAAAAFJU/nPIQzVKNCz4/s1600/234.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nfm1QQOJdV8/UJ12Bgh_hiI/AAAAAAAAFJU/nPIQzVKNCz4/s400/234.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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that I think I've given birth to the sweetest most precious baby girl on the planet?</div>
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Does that make me sound arrogant? Does that make you not like me? </div>
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I'm sorry. Real. It's how I was trying to keep it.</div>
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Your kids are cute too.</div>
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Alright. thankfulness. Here's what I got. Coffee. Seriously how did people-<i>mothers to children who wake up early and go to bed late-</i> ever wake up before this stuff. No sooner than when Adeline hits me in the forehead with her foot while trampling across my face to lay next to me in bed only to repeat "Mommy lets go wait for the sun to come up outside" 47 times before I throw myself out of bed with Selah attached to me and Gideon yelling for a banana.... do I run to my coffee maker. </div>
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Sweet Lord, I thank you for this. It smells good. It tastes good. and It is good. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6BRZACKppeo/UJ109l7gvNI/AAAAAAAAFIs/gxuV1o8xrQ8/s1600/079.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6BRZACKppeo/UJ109l7gvNI/AAAAAAAAFIs/gxuV1o8xrQ8/s400/079.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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and then there's Target. Because can I even exclude it from a list of what I'm grateful for?</div>
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I can't. I don't even need to explain it to you, because I already know you understand. </div>
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I'm thankful for this strong-willed, fun-spirited, first born that humbles me.</div>
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Seriously God teaches me through her every day.</div>
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She's hard, but she's worth it. Such a blessing. </div>
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as is her brother and sister. I'm so thankful to be a mother. To be a mother to those three. and when they are lovin' on each other........ really. Fufillment, thanksgiving, gratitude, joy, love.</div>
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All that good stuff.</div>
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All up in my heart. </div>
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oh and if they're sleeping it's like bonus warm fuzzies. Really I love them. </div>
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Oh and this man. Who works so hard, so much, and who I've seriously never heard complain about it. Once. Ever. I'm so fortunate to have found love so young and been able to let it simmer slowly growing into something above and beyond me and only God-given. I'm so blessed my children have a father who has made it a priority to not only take care of us all, but one who sees the importance of me staying home with them to raise them and has made it priority for our family. I'm thankful for a man who sees past the laundry piles (sup background laundry that needs to be hung in the closet) and for a man who loves me for everything I am. Raw. Just me. I love my husband. I'm glad he's mine.</div>
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I also love lipstick. Because when I spend 30 minutes getting everyone else ready and only have 5 minutes left to go time to get myself ready..... lipstick makes me feel pretty. Even if I look like the Joker............................................</div>
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I'm thankful for when my kids listen. Like when I say<i> kiss me for this picture that I'm going to give your wife one day and 100 others similar to it when I tell her that I was the first woman in your heart. </i></div>
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Why am I crazy?</div>
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I'm thankful for these two matching skirts. </div>
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Because even though Philip says I don't need to dress them alike.</div>
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I will anyway. and it will be cute.</div>
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and then he will be thankful for their cuteness. </div>
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Thankful.</div>
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Gracious me I'm thankful these things take naps. Wherever those naps may be. Amen.</div>
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I'm thankful we didn't leave Adeline at the election polls on Election Day. Her sleep deprived Daddy sure thought he left her when he went to unbuckle her from her vacant seat once we got home.</div>
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She was just hiding in the back. Sorry for the momentary terror, Daddy. Get more rest. </div>
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I love Satsumas. How cool is it that God provides for us food four our bodies, from the earth, right in our very back yard. Physical food for our bodies, and His word for our souls. Thank you Lord. </div>
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and thank you for answering prayer. You are faithful, and you teach me every day. </div>
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and here we go, as if I didn't pretty much make it the most annoying thing about this post let me reiterate:</div>
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I am thankful that I make incredibly, undeniably cute babies. </div>
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and Philip too. I mean he helps to make them. <i>a little.</i> </div>
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I mean really. Did cute even exist before this child?</div>
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I'm not going to stop. </div>
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It's just too much. </div>
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and there we go. </div>
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a random slightly unrelated irregular list in no particular order of some shallow things and some real things I'm thankful for today. </div>
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Now I have to go cook potato soup. </div>
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<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-67611701956993433972012-11-07T21:39:00.003-06:002012-11-07T21:39:58.039-06:00BabyTime<div style="text-align: center;">
It's baby wonderland in my world right now. </div>
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little fingers. little toes. little soft belly.</div>
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I.</div>
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cannot.</div>
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stop.</div>
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kissing.</div>
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and she laughs now ya'll. </div>
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It's adorable.</div>
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dangerously adorable. </div>
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Like the kind of adorable I'm so deeply immersed in that I neglect maintaining sanitary conditions of my house. </div>
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<i>for real my floors are filthy right now.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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and then if I weren't baby drunk enough I get to be a nanny to this little handsome bundle of fresh adorable newborness:</div>
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<i> </i>His name is Conner.</div>
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Be still my baby-lovin heart. </div>
<i> </i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i> </i>CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-16449533508194843752012-11-02T07:47:00.001-05:002012-11-02T07:56:37.999-05:00Our Breakfast Conversation on AppreciationThis morning at breakfast we talked about things we're thankful for. Adeline's list is:<br />
<i>-I'm thankful for apples, and also for seeds in apples. </i><br />
<i>-I'm grateful you took that picture of me and Daddy on the beach when I was a baby. </i><br />
<i>-I'm thankful for my three cousins Yakabo, baby Harrison, and Emily.</i><br />
<i>-I'm thankful for rainbows, bicycles, and the refrigerator, and pumpkins too. </i><br />
<i>-I'm thankful for the black watch Daddy gave me.</i><br />
<i>-I'm grateful for my turtle, and I'm thankful Daddy is a man.</i><br />
<i>-I'm just thankful for my Stompeez. (</i>She does not have Stompeez, she only pretends she does)<br />
-<i>I'm glad God made Lily, Myla, and Silas and Rapunzel and that horse Maximus, but Rapunzel is always my favorite.</i><br />
<br />
Gideon appreciates the simple things:<br />
<i>-Banana</i><br />
<i>-Baby. over there.</i><br />
<i>-Go to Mimi</i><br />
<br />
and while Selah was silent during this conversation,<br />
I'm pretty sure she's thankful for me.<br />
and breastmilk.<br />
and a good swaddle.<br />
Because I am the swaddle master.<br />
<br />
and I'm grateful for conversations like these. <br />
<br />
Tis all.CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-86249343133968581202012-10-28T21:35:00.001-05:002012-10-28T21:35:07.534-05:002 Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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2 months happened Saturday.<br />
Selah girl I thought I just delivered you like, last week.<br />
No, that was two months ago.<br />
I don't know that life outside of me is all that different, since you're always on me or in my arms.<br />
You sure do love your momma, baby girl, and I don't mind it at all.<br />
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You're not short on big sister love either. In fact, she's borderline obsessed with you.</div>
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and your toes. and your bows. and your clothes. and your nose. and your name.</div>
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Sorry I know name broke the rhyming streak, but really she's named every baby doll <i>Selah</i> her pumpkin <i>Selah</i> and that owl we heard walking the dog tonight, yea that's <i>Selah the owl.</i></div>
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So yea, she's a little obsessed with your name too. I can't blame her, you do have an awesome name.</div>
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I actually pump [which I despise, but do] an extra couple of ounces every day just so Adeline can feed you, which is something that makes her feel very big and very proud. </div>
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When I'm not holding you I know you're every hiccup, spit up, babble, and cry because our three your ole little momma got her eyes on you, girl.<br />
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Your brother loves you too, but it's a little more at a distance. He's either busy surfing on your baby seat, hooking and latching buckles on your car seat, or being an unwilling participant in your big sister's daily dress up routines. He loves to kiss your head, and leave his mark with drool or banana kisses, and he really loves to go to your bassinet or swing and scream <i>SELAH</i> just after you've fallen asleep and I put you down. Fun game brother.<br />
<br />
You think it's hysterical when your daddy blows in your face and literally takes your breath away. I'm glad you think that's funny because your daddy has enjoyed torturing/picking on you babies with that since day one of our baby business over here. The other two found it much more annoying than you do.<br />
<br />
You have blessed the life of each one of us in this house girl, and I love you so much Selah girl. You're my little pretty.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o--cTGxQ5UU/UI3gIEsz9JI/AAAAAAAAFFc/sywtKV89J1g/s1600/011.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o--cTGxQ5UU/UI3gIEsz9JI/AAAAAAAAFFc/sywtKV89J1g/s1600/011.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-40103614764397470862012-10-22T15:23:00.000-05:002012-10-22T15:23:18.210-05:00Weekend Wrap Up<div style="text-align: center;">
This morning I did a little mourning over the loss of the weekend. </div>
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Mondays and routines are just a little bitter after a sweet, carefree weekend like we just had. </div>
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Saturday morning we had the most beautiful time on the water. </div>
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I really, really wanted to bring my camera, but I chickened out and left it at home. </div>
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We didn't sink or get rained on, so in retrospect I wish I'd have brought it because God painted some beautiful scenery for us as we laughed and hugged and smiled with our little girl that was completely overwhelmed with the joy of her first fishing experience--even though we didn't catch a single fish. </div>
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The weather wasn't quite even jacket worthy, but I whipped up some warm crawfish bisque for dinner and headed out with it regardless. </div>
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I was too incredibly happy to care that the kids apparently don't eat crawfish bisque, so I dug out some mac n cheese and we all dined in the back yard and watched the sunset. </div>
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Seriously I think there is very little that makes my heart race more than watching Philip be a father. </div>
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He's been working nights and weekends and long hours, and we have all been missing him so much. </div>
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On weekends he gets off he's still on the sleep schedule of having slept all day and worked all night so normally we don't get as much good time with him because he naps throughout the day. </div>
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This weekend he was so present, and it was such a relief to not only have another set of hands, but to have my best friend at my side. It's been weeks and months for me since I've been able to sit and watch my little lovelings just laugh and enjoy their Daddy. I don't know if I've ever seen Gideon so thrilled just to be held and hugged by this man. He absolutely adores his father, and really just love that.</div>
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My God you are amazing. Thank you for this blessing of beautiful family you gave me. </div>
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and while I'm showing gratefulness, Amen for empty boxes. </div>
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<i>oh and unneeded QVC purchases-GAH those people could sell me rocks.</i></div>
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This time of year really just makes all of the sweetness sweeter. </div>
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I loved this weekend.</div>
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So much.</div>
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Looking forward to the next. </div>
<br />CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-6073338007465915462012-10-19T23:04:00.001-05:002012-10-19T23:04:59.578-05:00October Sunsets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Friday evening was spent with bare feet on cool grass in a succulent sunset.<br />
Crawfish bisque was on the stove, and while Gideon and Philip napped, the girls and I practiced catching big fish in the yard.<br />
<br />
Practice makes perfect, and we're going to be glad we oiled up our casting arms tomorrow morning when Daddy brings us fishing.<br />
This will be Adeline's first time in the boat, and I'm so excited.<br />
<br />
I'm also really excited about those photos of Selah I got in the sunset today.<br />
I mean really, she's so freaking cute. CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-73535172299335169152012-10-18T15:08:00.000-05:002012-10-18T15:08:25.539-05:00SettlingSo I took a picture of this super cool Pinterest insipired jar full of glitter [that I couldn't stop swirling around.] I wanted to share with my blog how cool of an idea it was and how much it's worked and made a difference in our house. <br />
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I mostly told Adeline it was to help her settle down when she was angry, but really I like purple and sparkly things and its pretty and distracts me from pulling my hair out or washing dishes or something like that. True story. <br />
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We kind of loved this jar.<br />
Until Gideon grabbed it off of the table last night and while he was running away from us laughing at his defiance and sneaky glass swiping tactics-- he tripped.<br />
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and my entire living room was instantly spread with shards of glass, water and glue, and purple glitter.<br />
<br />
Oh and I flipped a lid.<br />
<br />
Like <u>screamed </u>for everyone to freeze and not move until I can get to you.<br />
No one listened.<br />
and they all scrambled around in the chaos.<br />
Adeline: "MY SETTLING JAR GIDEON BROKE MY SETTLING JAR I LOVETHATJARHOWCOULDYOUGIDEONI'MSOMADINEEDTHATJARRIGHTNOWBUTITSBROKEN...................."<br />
Gideon: "Uh oh. Bwoke. MAAAAAAMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAA"<br />
Selah: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OMG MY MOTHER PUT ME DOWN AND EVERYONE IS SCREAMING WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA<br />
Scarlet: <i>hmm let me prance through broken glass and glitter, I've never done that before. Durr der derrrr</i><br />
<br />
and then I sent everyone to bed with no book and no prayers and no clean teeth<br />
<i>just so I could scrub glitter out of my grout for 40 minutes while Selah screamed and I knelt in broken glass pieces that seemed to multiply and cut my knees and palms as I picked them up.</i><br />
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Yea not my finest mom moment.<br />
<i>and I have a lot of those moments here lately.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
While much of my day is sweetness and tenderness and love <br />
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and adorable little people who call me Mommy...<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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equal parts of my days are in need of mercy.<br />
<br />
I do not have it all together, and it's hard for me to be okay with that.<br />
I have plans in my head and I try my best to physically execute them, but the truth is they very rarely ever go according to schedule.<br />
This season in my life is teaching me to give up the control and hand it over to God.<br />
Continual struggle.<br />
<br />
You know <br />
Sometimes when I hear people say, "The Lord spoke to me... " <br />My mind sometimes wanders right after that statement because I always kind of turn to an acting scenario in my head where Jesus comes down and personally has an audible conversation with someone.<br />
I always want to interrupt with something like, "yea since He talks to you could you tell Him to hit me up on my cell? I've got a few things I want to address with Him."<br />
<br />
I heard a song the other day and something in the lyrics was like "if you touched my face would I know you?"<br />
<br />
wow. Convict me now.<br />
<br />
I am a Christian.<br />
I am a child of Jesus Christ himself.<br />
I am redeemed by his sacrifice for me through His blood on the cross, and he is my Savior.<br />
<br />
But if he was talking to me, would I recognize his voice?<br />
<br />
Through all of the business and the babies and the choas that all both give me so much love and so much chaos, can I hear Him?<br />
<br />
On my knees cleaning glitter last night I cried.<br />
Mostly because I was running on 6 hours of sleep, and I miss my husband who works insane hours. <br />
Somewhat because Selah was screaming because I put her down and Adeline was chanting over and over from her bed "<i>I miss my daddy, he's my favorite parent."</i><br />
and really I just felt really guilty for not being able to do it all, do enough, and have the relationship with Jesus I'm thirsty for myself.<br />
<i> </i><br />
I straight up just prayed for rest.<br />
God give me rest tonight.<br />
Please.<br />
<br />
and as I know He does.<br />
He heard me.<br />
and this momma slept until 7am.<br />
Praise you Jesus. Praise you!<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if any of this makes sense, but what I'm trying to say is that I was raw right there on my knees.<br />
Plenty to distract me plenty to upset me. <br />
But I turned to Him and He gave me rest.<br />
and today I was able to smile past Gideon headbutting me in the nose and me leaking through my nursing pad at a meeting full of other people. Rested, I was able make it to a doctors appointment for myself, Gideon, a meeting at church, back home to fix lunch, and then Adeline to dancing.<br />
I was able to let ten thousand things go that did not go my way today.<br />
Because I had rest in Him.<br />
<br />
and I am reminded again what a loving God I serve.<br />
and while I go through the motions sometimes, I can always stop.<br />
and be still in Him where he is faithful to me.<br />
Little ole me in this big ole world.<br />
<br />
It's old news, but it continues to amaze me over and over again.CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8484844728202737570.post-32436494057525536172012-10-16T07:18:00.001-05:002012-10-16T10:33:49.983-05:00Sun Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have this rule in my house that everytime I'm sleeping-or<strike> want </strike>need to be sleeping, everyone else should be to.<br />
This is simply a preventative measure to any chaos or trouble to be caused.<br />
The baby isn't catching onto this rule too well.<br />
Actually they all have trouble with this one.<br />
I have rebel children.<br />
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In some ways it's been a blessing though.</div>
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Every morning I'm up early enough for a cup of coffee, some Proverbs, and breathtaking sunrises that I now collect photos of.</div>
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Thank you Selah girl. </div>
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Thank you. </div>
CourtneyKebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854168181754702524noreply@blogger.com0