tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13137250569434730062024-02-19T01:24:54.604-06:00 The GowingsThe life and times of a little family learning to live and love in God's constant outpouring of grace.Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-37290162006562883472014-04-19T07:25:00.001-05:002014-04-19T07:25:33.480-05:00Happy EasterIt has been a long time since I have posted. We have been "busy" doing life around here... Running around, digging in dirt, learning new words, learning to write letters, avoiding the cold, wishing for spring, planting stuff, hunting for eggs long before Easter, reading stories and climbing on all things. And that was just Brad. (haha)<br />
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Life around us continues to move fast, while we move slow. I am thankful for the slow and simple. (I am wishing the girls would grow slower.) Life can be so crazy. So emotional. So <i>big. </i>All around me, babies are being adopted, children are moving out, parents are getting old and sick, babies are being miscarried and born. <br />
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This Easter weekend I am thankful. Thankful for God's perfect plan. Thankful that our God is not a God of confusion or anxiety. He is justice and mercy at the same time. His love is persistent, perfect in its pursuit of us. The entire Bible speaks to this. All of history moves towards our redemption in Jesus. All through the Old Testament - the histories, the Psalms, the prophets - the stories point to Christ. To the perfect Lamb giving Himself so that we can experience true freedom and joy. God's people experienced such turmoil and change: hundreds of years in slavery, wandering in the desert, exile, etc. And most of it (with the exception of Daniel and Job and the like) due to their own sin. Life in this fallen world will be crazy and uncertain. It will be joyful and painful. At times it will not make one bit of sense. But God is still in pursuit. Even when He has our heart, the Holy Spirit seeks to have <i>all</i> of it. <br />
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We have been reading a lot about the Easter story around here. One of our children's Bible stories goes into detail about the day Jesus died - the sky grew dark, the ground shook, the earth mourned. The pictures look dark and scary. Addison asked why Easter was happy if that day was so scary and sad. What a good question. The <i>end</i> is what makes it happy. What makes it the best. Just like all the good princess stories (because we have to relate it to a princess in this house I guess). Sure, Jesus gave himself. Sure, He paid the penalty for my sins and yours. That was absolutely a huge deal. Worth savoring and honoring and considering and dwelling on. But that was Friday. <br />
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Sunday is worth celebrating. Sunday is worth cheering for. Jesus rose! Resurrection. Life. The defeat over death. Freedom from fear and freedom in suffering. Joy in life, in all circumstances.<br />
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He is Risen! He is risen indeed. <br />
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-50512762622569868612014-01-22T13:27:00.000-06:002014-01-22T14:14:31.114-06:00Love 'em right.Parenting.<br />
Y'all.<br />
This can be so hard! <br />
<br />
Don't misunderstand: I knew what we were getting into. When our big one was an angelic one year old and people would comment on her, I knew it wasn't forever; there were tougher times to come. I was right. (It must have been a Tuesday; I have often claimed to be pseudo-psychic on Tuesdays. Jk.)<br />
<br />
All of us deal with it at some point. Some children act like lunatics who have no parents out in public. We've all seen the children throwing things in the grocery store, or trying to climb into the elephant exhibit at the zoo. These are (usually) not my children. They may be your children; no judgement from me. I am out in public to escape my house. My children choose to act out at home. Whining, crying, crawling, negotiating, whining, sneaking, slamming, whining, running. Did I mention negotiations? And whining? Oh! It is just blah! We are choosing to fight the battles - a lot of battles - now when they are little, in hopes that when they're big they know how to act. (Pipe dream, I know.) So we ignore the whining and the big one gets nothing "until you can use your big girl words." This is a sentence I say about 138 times each day. Last week we were home sick most of the time, so probably more often then. Perhaps that is why I am feeling all of the annoyances today; all of it built up last week and now I need a long run or a long nap or a good shopping trip to get rid of my parenting self-pity. <br />
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All of us deal with it. We will deal with children who don't know how to act now, or later, or much later, or (more likely) during several stages of childhood. (I pray that's when we deal with it, and not when they are grown. But that's neither here nor there.) <br />
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It is so tempting to go it alone. To not share with your spouse that you totally lost your temper. To not share that your kids kick and scream at times. To pretend that your 3 year old did not do time out 4 times before lunch. To keep it to yourself that you are petrified of losing your kids. To not tell any other people that your child prefers to be naked in public. (Ahem. I may be the mother of the only naked ballerina.) No one wants to be the mother<i> </i>who fails to do ______. <br />
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<i>Parenting is too hard to do alone.</i> To not share it with others. To not realize and remember that others' kids try to negotiate their way through bedtime like a seasoned politician through peace talks, just like yours. Y'all. We are not alone. You are not alone.<br />
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My friend Denise is the best. She thinks she is silly and flippant, but she is so wise. She says we need to quit worrying about when the days are nightmare days and we are so worried about "raising them right." Sometimes we just need to <i>love</i> our kids right. To parent with grace and love, and make sure our discipline, when needed, comes out of that. <br />
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In this era of such crazy nonsense as Pinterest Envy, Mommy Wars and Parenting Righteousness, let's come alongside one another and lose the judgement. Not just of one another, but of ourselves. And our kids. Who cares what your kid is wearing, or mine? I don't care if your table cloth matches the plates and balloons at little Sally's birthday party. Did you make a cake that can barely stand up? Serve it proudly! Who cares if my little has a third bruise on her forehead and she dislocated her elbow yesterday? (True story, by the way.) Give yourself and your neighbor a little slack. Did your little decide to wear rain boots to church and you showed up 30 minutes late with peanut butter on your shirt? Good job; you got into the car in one piece and with everyone fed. Sometimes that just deserves a medal. At the end of the day, this is my dream job that I never even dreamed of having. In the hardest of moments, I am still living out the biggest of blessings. When all the battles are over (or at least on hiatus until tomorrow), we are building / rearing / raising a person. It's okay that this is hard. I think it's supposed to be. I am fighting for my children's hearts.<br />
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We are not just fighting for our family. We are fighting for our group's, for our people. So let's fight. Let me fight for you, and you for me when I need it. When I am tempted to stand in the middle of my mess of laundry and cry hot tears of frustration because I just screwed up the parenting job again, I will remind myself of who's I am. <i> Let us remind ourselves and each other that Jesus already won the good fight - the one that matters.</i> That because of His great goodness and mercy and grace, we can be called God's precious children. On the days that we are awesome at what we do, and on the days when we are not so awesome. He is faithful when we are failing and not so faithful. When I gave my heart to Him, He made it new, and that's what He sees. <br />
<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-5781828710423688292013-12-15T19:08:00.001-06:002013-12-15T19:08:35.978-06:00Merry Christmas & The End of Another YearHow is 2013 almost over? How is it December 15th already??? Not like I-have-no-presents-bought so it snuck up on me, just how it is the end of another year? I am overwhelmed by the blessings around me. It seems as though I blinked and found that my children had grown.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See what I mean??? Three going on 13.</td></tr>
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This Christmas we are growing and learning and changing, then growing some more. Addison knows all the words to what seems like every Christmas song and would rather sing them for us than listen to carols. Audrey repeats everything you say, but in one or two word increments, and primarily using vowels, so everything sounds adorable. "Miih peas." (Milk please.) "Thah ooo." (Thank you.) "euh Auduh?" (Where's Audrey?") "buuh buuh Dah-eh" (Bye bye DeLaune) There are lots of confusing conversations happening in my house!<br />
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We made a fun attempt at celebrating advent, using a combination of the advent book our preschool minister put together, and our elf on the shelf, Merry. We have been good about reading the advent scripture every day and the story from the Jesus Storybook Bible, but I ran out of new places for that sweet "Advent Elf" several days ago, and we don't do all of the daily activities. I am completely okay with that, though. (How unlike me!) And here's why: My kids are three and one. I desperately want to teach them that Christmas is about Jesus, and that all the fun stuff is just extra. We talk about that, and reiterate that, and I even told Addison about who the real St. Nick was, and turned it into a magical story about someone who loves sharing the joy of Jesus with children and now lives forever... But they are so young! I am not going to drive everyone bananas trying to do everything perfect and Pinterest-y. I have done that before and no one was okay with that. Some people can do that and not be insane. I am not some people. I want to enjoy their moments, and be in the moment with them, more than make everything a lesson. <br />
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Besides that, if you want to analyze everything in your day, just let me send Addison to your house...<br />
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<i>Why do you read your Bible? </i><br />
<i>But why do you do it every day? </i><br />
<i>Why do you want to learn more?</i><br />
<i>Why is red a Christmas color?</i><br />
<i>Why did Jesus have to be born?</i><br />
<i>Why do we give presents?</i><br />
<i>But why does Santa give presents?</i><br />
<i>Why do we show love and kindness?</i><br />
<br />
...and on and on. Y'all this is constant. She just wants to know everything! I find that if I am too concerned with keeping my agenda - even things like decorate cookies, wrap presents, go to the zoo, etc.- I miss sweet opportunities to teach. To love on her with truth. To learn with her. To show her, and one day Audrey too, that I make mistakes all the time, and Jesus seeks me anyway. <br />
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Recently I have heard and read several lessons/sermons on God's presence and whether or not He still speaks. It seems like such a simple answer, yet so many miss it. There have been times in my life that I would have answered "of course God still speaks," but then been too busy or involved or un-receptive to hear Him. Our pastor gave a beautiful Advent sermon on this today, based on the Christmas story of the shepherds, in Luke 2:8-18. Here was the gist:<br />
We experience the presence of God when<br />
1) we are receptive to His voice, however He chooses to speak, and to what He has to say<br />
2) we humbly place ourselves under His authority<br />
3) we are willing to turn around and be His messenger for others.<br />
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At first glance, it seems that #2 is the doozy. We are not exactly living in a time or culture that celebrates living under anyone's authority. But the fact of the matter is that God continues to pursue us, to seek us out in spite of ourselves. To stretch us and pull us to be more than we thought we would be, often in a way that looks completely different than how we thought it would.<br />
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I have a story about this. It is pretty personal and sounds silly, but I figure if you've read this much you may not judge, or perhaps you need to hear it...<br />
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When Brad and I had been married almost a year, I was invited to a Beth Moore conference. I was not in a place where I thought I needed to learn anything. I wasn't prepared to be challenged, and frankly I was a little annoyed to be there. (Sorry Missy, if you're reading this. Just being honest.) Brad had started looking into other jobs at other churches and was interested in moving. I had a job that I loved, was getting used to our life together, and I thought we were doing okay, and I did not want to move. I was pretty adamant about it. I was basically a jerk about the idea. I loved Birmingham and absolutely did not want go anywhere. For most of this conference I was focused on me and what I thought I needed from our marriage, and was in no way interested in hearing otherwise through scripture, wise counsel from speakers, or otherwise. <br />
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Have you ever been to a conference like this? The BJCC was packed, and in the last few minutes the place slowly began to clear as women tried to beat the crowd to the parking lot. I remember a large group of women to my right stepped past us to leave just before the last song. My mother in law and I also began to gather our things and a woman I had not seen before tapped me on the shoulder. She said, "I think you need this," and she handed me a small card with the words "Just Go!" and "Joshua 1:9" scribbled on it. Then she walked away.<br />
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Let me tell you that I think I stopped breathing for a few minutes. Nothing in the conference had been on "going." No song, no session. How completely random for her to do that. How would this stranger have known to say that to me? I hadn't told anyone that Brad was feeling led toward change, or that I was hesitant to go. I just was angry about it. Until then. <br />
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God showed me just how He would pursue me if need be. In that clear, audible voice and scribbled note, He gave me a clear answer to a question that I had refused to even ask Him. My heart broke and changed and softened all at the same time. Funny how God can do that. I bawled like a baby the whole way to the car and the entire drive home. (Want to instantly be closer to your brand new mother in law? Awkwardly cry in her presence for 40+ minutes and admit all kinds of ugly things about yourself. Awesome.)<br />
I went home and apologized to Brad and committed to being open to change. What I thought had been a good marriage changed pretty quickly into an awesome one. Brad stopped looking to leave Birmingham, and five months later an even better opportunity came looking for Brad. I love how God works. <br />
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Want to know if He still speaks? Be ready to hear Him. <br />
Want to know if He still speaks? Be willing to submit yourself to what He says.<br />
Want to know if He still speaks? Be ready to be the messenger for someone else. <br />
<br />
(Can you imagine that other woman? The conversation she must have had silently with God before walking up to me? <i>Why do you want me to write this verse on a card? Who needs to go where? This is just silly. Who am I even supposed to give this to? She is going to think I am crazy!)</i><br />
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I am so thankful that God still speaks. I am so thankful that when we are hard-headed and hard-hearted He takes drastic measures and uses usable people. I am so grateful He has a plan that is so much cooler than my own. I am so thankful He sent His son. <br />
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"God loved us and sent His son." (1John 4:10)<br />
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"Come Thou Long Expected Jesus..."<br />
<dd style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Come Thou long expected Jesus</dd><dd style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Born to set Thy people free</dd>
<dl style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">From our fears and sins release us</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Let us find our rest in Thee</dd></dl>
<dl style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Israel's strength and consolation</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Hope of all the earth Thou art</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Dear desire of every nation</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Joy of every longing heart</dd></dl>
<dl style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Born Thy people to deliver</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Born a child and yet a King</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Born to reign in us forever</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px;">Now Thy gracious kingdom bring</dd></dl>
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"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)<br />
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This Christmas season, I pray you are brave enough to want to hear God speak. In the new year, I pray you are willing to be submissive to His authority. It is so much better than our own. <br />
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(I pray I am too, because if another woman approaches me like that again I may have a heart attack.)<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Merry Christmas!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my youngest nephew and niece with our two gals. <br />Merry Christmas from them, too!</td></tr>
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-8519280776489979692013-11-11T08:42:00.003-06:002013-11-11T08:42:30.909-06:00Happy Armistice Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy Veterans Day.<div>
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Or, as I still like to call it, Happy Armistice Day. I will celebrate my own moment of silence at the eleventh hour today on this eleventh day of the eleventh month, when the fighting in Great War stopped. (Whatever; I am a nerd and I own it.) Today I am thankful we don't speak German. Or Hungarian. Or Italian I guess. Or, since I just watched "Killing Kennedy" on National Geographic channel... I am super glad we don't speak Russian. (Can you imagine?) But that's a different matter all together.</div>
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I am abundantly thankful today for the veterans that I know and love. And so many others. That put your safety and mine, and the welfare of our country above their own. For their families. For their wives. <i>Bless them. </i> For their mamas. <i>Give them peace.</i> For their kids. <i>Give them strength. (</i>I saw a YouTube thing of a middle school kid giving a speech or something and his dad, who had been serving overseas, came in and surprised him in front of the whole school. I bawled like a baby. I am crying right now just thinking about it.) </div>
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My dad is retired Army, having served more than 20 years. My baby brother carried on the tradition and is a Lieutenant in the Army, serving in the armpit of America. (Sorry Ft. Polk.) Both of my grandfathers served. Brad's grandfather was a cook for the Army. Our nation has so much to be thankful for, largely due to men and women who committed to serve their country in ways that most of us are unwilling to. Who fought in so many ways to protect rights and privileges that we enjoy, but would have no idea about if we lived in any other country. I am thankful. In the midst of political strife and awful decisions made by our leaders and scandals and drama, I am thankful. I hope you are too.</div>
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In another matter all together, this morning my three year old asked what God's hair looks like. I can't even make this up, y'all.</div>
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Happy Armistice Day. Give a Veteran a hug or a handshake today. I'm too far away to hug any of my Vets. </div>
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Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-79762838090141332582013-09-10T15:11:00.000-05:002013-09-10T15:11:28.343-05:00My hopes for our galsAny parent hopes. Along with love and hugs and exhaustion and fear, comes hope. <br />
<i>I hope she comes quickly. </i><br />
<i>I hope she sleeps through the night soon. </i><br />
<i>I hope she hurries up and cuts this tooth. </i><br />
<i>I hope she's not sick. </i><br />
<i>I hope she grows out of this stage quickly. </i><br />
<i>I hope she always wants to snuggle.</i><br />
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My baby girl turns one today. And my sweet husby celebrates his <strike>93rd</strike> 33rd birthday this Thursday. I am not organized, relaxed or timely enough to write two entries to honor them both, so I am killing two blogs with the proverbial stone. (Or something like that.)<br />
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As my baby becomes less and less baby-like every day, I have been thinking a lot about what is in store. That always leads me to prayer. And gratitude. And hope.<br />
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I hope. I pray. For my girls. For our family. For our future. For theirs. My heart longs for the day when Jesus returns. And in the meantime I hope. <br />
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I pray for the day each of them becomes a follower of Christ.<br />
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I hope it is early in their lives. I hope they have a love for His word. I hope God reveals Himself to each of them often, reminding them of what Scripture (and their Mama) says. I pray for this all the time.<br />
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I pray for their future families. I hope they meet a man early in adulthood and fall in love. Not the romantic-comedy type of falling in love; the non-dramatic, low-key, Brad Gowing certainty kind of love. The content, calm kind of love. I hope they are patient until that time comes. Patient and understanding and not consumed with the desire to be with someone, to have that type of relationship. I hope they each remember to be concerned with the stuff that truly matters, not the stuff that matters in our culture.<br />
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I hope they find someone who is willing to tell the hard truths. Who leads boldly. Who helps them take themselves less seriously. Who loves Jesus first and her next. Who (only every once in a while) has trouble keeping priorities in line because he is so busy caring about people. Who is satisfied and content. These are the things that have and do bless my life every day.<br />
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I hope they get the joy of being someone's mama. I hope they discover how different two kids can be from each other at such an early age. I hope they find a career they love and that meets their needs, even if it may not last as long as they imagine. That they are open to change and welcome new seasons. <br />
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I hope they will be best friends. Probably not any time soon, but one day. My sister and best friend had her baby girl Sunday and the only thing that would thrill me more is if I could be there. I hope my girls will love on each other and protect each other and speak truth and grace and hope into each other's lives for as long as they are here on Earth.<br />
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I hope they know every day how much we love them. I hope their Daddy and I are around for a really long time to be part of them. <br />
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I hope they always want to snuggle.<br />
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Happiest of days and weeks, to my baby girl. And to my sweet husby.<br />
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How about you? What do you hope for your family?Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-44091382538479560182013-08-04T14:54:00.001-05:002013-08-04T14:54:44.781-05:00Thoughts on a SabbathLately I have been thinking a lot about God's timing. The "providential" plan and how it works together. It is easy for me to dwell on how <i>good</i> God is, from this mostly comfortable place in my life. It hasn't always been easy to remember God's goodness and faithfulness. We have several friends in the middle of those types of times. The out-of-a-job times. The in-between-jobs, and is-this-the-right-thing-for-us times. The why-can't-we-start-a-family times. The money-is-tight times. The if-I-am-in-God's-will-then-why-I-am-so-stressed-out times. The I-am-afraid-of-what's-going-to-happen times. <br />
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If you are right there, let me offer you some encouragement. It gets better. What is happening right now is not <i>IT</i>. There is a future. By all means, plan, and prepare, and work hard, and follow doctors and family and boss' advice. But take a rest. Give yourself and those around you a break. And remember that there is also a past. <br />
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I heard a really great sermon today from a guest preacher at our church. He had some different things to say about the Sabbath, and used some different scripture references than I had heard referenced for discussing the Sabbath, but it was such an important message. Using verses in Genesis, Exodus, Deuteronomy, and Hebrews, he boiled it down to two points:<br />
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1-The Sabbath is not only holy because God declared it to be holy. It is holy because that is <i>the </i>day to set aside from the toil and daily work of our lives. Just as God worked at creation and then rested, allowing all of creation to reflect His glory and point us back to Him, so we are to work and then rest, getting rejuvenated so that we can rejoice in and reflect Him.<br />
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2-The Sabbath (or whenever we take our rest) is for reflecting. Only as we look back properly (remembering all that God has done) and look forward properly (faithfully anticipating His future), can we live fully in today.<br />
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Living "fully in today" can be a challenge! When we are stuck in the tough times, we get anxious to get out. But remember. <br />
Remember that the God who created the universe also created today. <br />
The God who parted the sea and saved His people will redeem you. <br />
The same God who knit you together in the womb has a plan and a purpose for you and your family.<br />
God knows the desires of your heart; He put them there. Relish in Him today and thank Him.<br />
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Take a breath and set aside a Sabbath. Enjoy something <i>today.</i>Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-61013527365194993602013-07-09T17:04:00.000-05:002013-07-09T17:04:29.054-05:00You've been a mom for how long???I just realized I haven't written anything on this silly blog since February. A special day brought me back here. My big gal turned three today. I cannot believe it. I sincerely cannot wrap my brain around it. Will every year, every milestone be this way? Will every significant event illicit such an "OH MY GOODNESS! WHY IS TIME SPEEDING BY SO FAST?" type of response? Probably.<br />
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It is 2:56 right now. Three years ago at this point I was still in the recovery room after surgery, staring at my beautiful baby girl who looked like an exact replica of my baby pictures. I was in awe of the amazing, gorgeous, real-live, breathing, whimpering, little bit of a thing who slept on my chest. Let's face it: I still am. Y'all. God is simply so good.<br />
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I have my regular afternoon episode of "Friends" on right now. It's the one where Ross' son is born. I am not exaggerating when I say I cried. It's just whatever. I am one blobbery mess today. <br />
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Have you ever heard someone say that having kids taught them what it means to have their heart walking outside of their body? I had read that somewhere, before having children, and I thought it sounded so hokey. And awkward. And dumb. Like, "of course you love your kid; you'd be a monster if you didn't." But it is so true. Not only that - mixed with amazement that God has allowed this miraculous, energetic, girly, silly little person to bless your heart each day - but having children has also given me a much deeper understanding of the Father's love for me. For you. For us. How His faithfulness and love and grace and judgment and discipline all coexist. Perhaps that is why God invented parenthood.<br />
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Here are some pictures of what we have been up to the last few months. They sort of highlight her crazy, silly personality.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEnHvEqWR1QE79ZgPoV0X4LAEM8pcJerNgmO8rna1jgBvrgG_8bqm2nyOnGBSnddiKRfKpHEhqVTuVUXSMdZ9I1p1qa8q2NDg8K-IadQS-N6wiyjF3nqk-dBtpmbNvEMTNzPhP1-9GdKx/s1600/DSCN2156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEnHvEqWR1QE79ZgPoV0X4LAEM8pcJerNgmO8rna1jgBvrgG_8bqm2nyOnGBSnddiKRfKpHEhqVTuVUXSMdZ9I1p1qa8q2NDg8K-IadQS-N6wiyjF3nqk-dBtpmbNvEMTNzPhP1-9GdKx/s320/DSCN2156.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">at my brother's wedding</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, she is wearing lipgloss. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holding Audrey's hand and telling her to sit still.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Telling Audrey "practice your walking by pushing me in this wheelchair!" Awesome.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls love reading and snuggling with Daddy<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fourth of July love</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I love the beach! And Pinkalicious! And dancing! And tutus!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mom! Enough with the pictures!"</td></tr>
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-91242642946249659782013-02-26T20:42:00.000-06:002013-02-26T20:53:18.255-06:00This 7 thing is messing me upThis <i>7 Experiment </i>is seriously messing me up. And it's going to make people want to stop being my friends. <br />
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Here is a brief review: each week of 7 is a different "fast" experience. Not a literal fast, but some type of self-chosen challenge out of one of seven categories: Food, Clothes, Possessions, Media, Waste, Spending, Stress. I am at the end of the "Spending" week. I am not exactly sure how next week's emphasis on stress will go, as I cannot very well eliminate my main cause of stress - two year old tantrums - from my life without eliminating one of my favorite people... although I did come close to threatening to eliminate her the other day. But that's a story for a different post. <br />
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I could list all the things I dislike about what I've learned. That would take too long.<br />
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What I love most about what I have learned is that there have been scriptural applications to answer questions that have plagued the bleeding-heart section of my soul for some time. On more than one topic, Jesus is asking me to take Him at His word and address some heart issues. Issues that I didn't even realize I had. <i style="font-weight: bold;">Issues that I did not even realize I had, people.</i> I have a love/hate relationship about when that happens. <br />
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<i>Do not store up for yourselves treasure on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy... for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.</i> (Matt. 6:19-21)<br />
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Newsflash to me: perhaps "treasures on earth" also include good things like the savings account, and modest house, and home improvements, and stuff for my kiddos, and... and... you get the picture. Maybe it's not just what we have, but the value we place on spending <i>our way.</i> The way we spend our money may actually change our hearts towards the heart of God. Isn't that the whole point anyways-to become more like Christ?<br />
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<i>The earth is the Lord's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it; for he founded it on the seas and established it on the waters.</i> (Ps 24:1-2)<br />
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Newsflash to me: perhaps caring for God's creation really is an act of worship. What would happen if I <i>acted</i> on the awe I feel about the world around me... i.e. stop using so many paper products (especially since so many of these, like napkins and paper towels, are non-recyclables)? Recycle with purpose (and make Brad do it too)? Use less in general? It may be that my personal boycott does very little to make any difference, but if God spent five days on this magnificent creation, the least I can do is spend five minutes to work on taking care of it. Could I become a <i>steward</i> of creation instead of a <i>consumer</i> of it? Creation care as worship... Hmmm...<br />
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<i>The earth is defiled by its people...</i> (Isaiah 24:1-13)<br />
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Newsflash to me: this is not just a political issue. It's not about the left or right version of climate change. Creation is / can be a spiritual mirror for how at odds we as the Church are with God's commandments. (That's a heavy sentence. Go back and read it again.) When I think about it like that, I get nervous that we are desperately at odds with how God desires us to treat the earth. How He desires we treat other people. How He desires we treat His bride, the church. (I just typed that, then went and changed another disposable diaper, which I am pretty sure will end up in the ocean one day. I still have a long way to go.)<br />
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<i>...Now then, you Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside you are full of greed and wickedness. You foolish people! Did not the one who made the outside make the inside also? But now as for what is inside you - be generous to the poor, and everything will be clean for you. Woe to you Pharisees, because you give God a tenth... but you neglect justice and the love of God. You should have practiced the latter without leaving the former undone. </i>(Luke 11:37-42)<br />
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Newsflash to me (and basically everyone): just because we tithe faithfully, or even more than tithe, doesn't mean the rest is ours to dole out as we please. What burdens your heart? Is it the Holy Spirit nudging you towards a change? Right now I am seriously disturbed by the whole my-children's-jammies-are-made-by-child-laborers thing. This has caused more than a hiccup in my buying. I went to buy new shoes for AG the other day, and stopped short because I had no way of knowing if that company used suppliers who allowed child and/or slave labor. No joke. No new sandals for my gals. (We do live in the south; they can go barefoot to church without being called redneck till they're at least 10.) Then I went back to that app I mentioned (from Free2Work.org), and looked up toys. The present I just bought our niece was made by one of the <i style="font-weight: bold;">many</i> companies who scored a D-. Happy birthday Kate! Your new picnic basket was made by children in sweatshops. Hope you enjoy! Ugh. <br />
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What if<i> </i>how I buy is an act of worship? Not just as in "I'm spending our money wisely, pat me on the back," but as in "I refuse to buy into the system that encourages companies to make stuff cheaper at any cost." Is everything I do a potential act of worship? Oh my. <i style="font-weight: bold;">Everything I do is a potential act of worship.</i><br />
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<b><i>Every thing I do is a potential act of worship. </i></b>That seems so obvious now. Even grocery shopping. Even how I sort my garbage. Even gardening (laugh, all you who know that I have kept exactly one plant alive for any length of time - I plan to start a vegetable garden if we ever see the sun again.) Even how/why I save my money. This one may have hit home the most with me, even more than the purchasing thing. If I am taking Jesus at His word, and we are called to love our neighbors as ourselves, what about the almighty dollar? What if we started living on less and giving away more? (Jen Hatmaker, you are ruining my life. Okay, well, it could have been the Holy Spirit. Either way.) If I believe Luke 11, then generosity in spirit and in giving is what will heal my broken heart. What will draw me close to the heart of God. Or, "Perhaps we don't need another sermon or a deeper Bible study or a different mentor or a better church to heal what is broken inside us. It seems an endless focus on ourselves hasn't transformed us in the slightest anyway..." Thanks Jen. (inward groan.)<br />
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This "experiment" has gone completely different than I thought it would. If you are reading the book, or are doing the study, or about to do either, I would encourage you to not quit. I almost did because... well, just because. Who thinks they <i>need</i> to re-think how they feed their families? Who puts their foot down and stops buying items just because? Or, as Jen Hatmaker put it, "Who says 'No' when they can say 'Yes'?" Good question. I think the answer needs to be me.<br />
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Not to distract from the seriousness of this post, but I cannot help myself:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">that is some awesome carrot baby food in her nose.<br />Mom of the year.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuMjg1l8oz6RdunFNw40a4tg_G_YynzBp7Hu0z8b5IKRaF8gjyfd8yVp09tdgHcE5z3t8bfg43i-Ilndilx5Ovmu6cmRSQMNWz_93vNfTlwFddjXwqi7EEZI9ayPmSjHVr3_ew3oK4CPu/s1600/2013+095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuMjg1l8oz6RdunFNw40a4tg_G_YynzBp7Hu0z8b5IKRaF8gjyfd8yVp09tdgHcE5z3t8bfg43i-Ilndilx5Ovmu6cmRSQMNWz_93vNfTlwFddjXwqi7EEZI9ayPmSjHVr3_ew3oK4CPu/s320/2013+095.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Addison loves Rosco a lot more than he loves her.<br />Oh well.</td></tr>
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-57653050687920296022013-02-03T09:44:00.001-06:002013-02-03T09:53:48.764-06:00Baby BarfNothing says "Good Morning!" like baby barf. Actually, it screams "GETUPGETUPGETUP! NOWNOWNOW!" Every day. For ten days. Sometimes twice. <br />
<br />
I have done more laundry in the last ten days than I did when Addison was a newborn and spit up every hour. It's really ridiculous. More on laundry later.<br />
<br />
Poor Audrey has been battling the cold Addison gave her, the worst prolonged cough ever, a double ear infection, and she cut her first tooth this week. It has been a perfect storm to lose sleep. And to barf every time she has a coughing fit. Now the big gal has re-caught the cold, and Brad and I both have the scratchy throats that come with too-little sleep. It's tempting to go back to <i>Why Are We Always Sick</i> land, but with two kids in flu season I am pretty sure this is okay. Or I think of my sister's sweet baby boy in the hospital for three days with RSV, pneumonia, a stomach bug, and dehydration, and I think we are pretty lucky indeed. We are just cooped up. And Addison is tired of having only her mama to talk to and asks "Can we go somewhere today?" every morning. This virus has overtaken our house, our schedule, my washing machine, and my 7 experiment.<br />
<br />
Last Saturday at a baby shower for my sweet friend Leslie, some friends asked if I felt like this "fast" I am doing was drawing me closer to God. They were specifically talking about the literal fast from food, so I somewhat-honestly (and jokingly) answered no. But that's not really true. Check out the last three posts. And, for me at least, each week of "fasting" becomes more and more personal.<br />
<br />
My 7 Experiment last week was to participate in some sort of fast from clothes. Because it was only a week, I felt like choosing seven items of clothes to wear would be a snap. And it sort of was. The only struggle came when all seven items had baby barf on them because I simply could not do laundry fast enough, haha. The major issue for me came in thinking about how much <i>crap</i> I have accumulated in the clothes department. Maybe not right now. We have moved twice in the last year, and I did a decent purge/give-away each time. But I had <i>so much crap</i> before that. All stuff that I had a plan for. <i>Just in case I go back to work full time. Just in case I lose all the baby weight. Just in case I don't. Just in case I have a party to go to where I need to wear a sparkly shirt.</i> My "just in case" plans are a little ridiculous. Especially in light of the fact that there are women in our city who desperately need clothes. And why do I have all this stuff anyway? The Gap, Loft, Banana Republic and other stores totally have my number: "Let's send her an email every day telling her our stuff is on sale and she will come buy stuff she doesn't really need just because it looks cute and is $10." I have a serious problem folks. An I-buy-things-I-don't-need-and-wind-up-wasting-stuff-and-supporting-the-consumer-machine problem. So I'm taking Jen Hatmaker's dare to extend my "fast" and not buy any clothing items for two months. Hold me to it. Let's see what happens.<br />
<br />
Now, here is where it gets dicey: I downloaded this app from Free2Work that grades a lot of different brands/companies based on their efforts to eliminate child and forced labor in their supply chains. This website and app have completely rocked my world. Of the over 300 apparel brands graded, I was only familiar with some. But I was complete disheartened by most of those. Probably 80% of my children's clothes came from companies who scored a D-. WHAT?!?!? Seriously sickened. The image of children without parents forced to work their little fingers to the bone so that my girls can have cute jammies with a dancing monkey on them makes me want to throw up. Or worse, children sold to some big guy with a club by their parents for the same reason. Ugh. I am thrown into the prayer I should be praying all the time: <i>Jesus! Come back! End this! </i>I actually find myself tearing up a little when Addison puts on said jammies.<br />
<br />
I took a political science class in college that focused on slavery in the 21st century. It completely tore me up. My 20 year old self could not figure out what little old me could do about it. Now my 31 year old self has one tiny option: don't buy their stuff. There are plenty of brands I can buy that are not on Free2Work's website for various reasons, so in the meantime I will not purchase the ones that are graded below a B. Decision made.<br />
<br />
Where the rubber meets the road: Costco. Fifteen different Carters spring dresses in matching designs for the girls at great prices. I put two in my buggy and walked away. <i>Wait just one little second.</i> Sad, frowny faced Maile put them back. Ten minutes later, I find a box of Hershey brand peanut butter cookie mix with the kisses included. We had these at Brad's parents' house recently. Delicious. Into the buggy. <i>Wait just one little second.</i> You've got it: Hershey was also graded poorly. And M&Ms. How will I live??? (www.Free2Work.org Check it out. Prepared to be disappointed. It seems like such a little tiny thing for me to fight it alone. But maybe we can do something with this little-by-little.)<br />
<br />
This week the fast is dealing with possessions. In the spirit of 7, I have picked seven categories of junk in our house to give away. (And not just to dump at the steps of Goodwill.) Because of the aforementioned purge of our stuff last year, I don't know how much we will be donating. Perhaps my collection of well-worn mysteries needs to be given to a local library? What about my huge box of "What if I go back to teaching and need these books as a resource" can go to a school or something. And I know I have some kitchen stuff that could still go. So go it will. And clothes. Maybe to a women's shelter? I have started this week a little late due to the barf, but I am playing catch up this weekend.<br />
<br />
The point of all this is that I am discovering more and more of who I am. And I just don't love it. I want to keep thinking that filling my house with stuff I want but don't need has nothing to do with the poor. But I am like the folks Isaiah railed against, who he said were "crushing the poor." In fact, I see myself too clearly in this quote from Jen Hatmaker:<br />
<i>You care about all the wrong things: religion, not justice for the poor (see Isa. 1:11-17); self- </i><br />
<i> advancement, not orphans and widows (see 1:21-23); wealth, not worship (see 2:7-10); pride,</i><br />
<i> not humility (see 2:11-18); shameless sin, not repentance (see 3:8-9).</i><br />
<br />
If I sincerely desire to see God's Kingdom come sooner rather than later, what am I doing about it? If I am buying what I want, when I want, without concern for who or what it might affect (other than my sometimes miserly husband, haha), am I not in fact crushing the poor?<br />
<br />
If you know me, you know I am obsessive enough to turn this into a full time job and all I talk about. My prayer now is not just for a heart-change regarding my excesses, but also a realistic desire about what I can do. And the consistency to do it.<br />
<br />
If you haven't read David Platt's <i>Radical</i>, or Francic Chan's <i>Crazy Love</i>, or Jen Hatmaker's <i>7</i>, pick them up in your church's library. Or my church's library. To me, they all go together. And point to where God is leading His church. I want to be a part of His movement. <br />
<i><br /></i>Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-77748962018708627272013-01-23T21:14:00.001-06:002013-02-03T09:54:04.518-06:00What I learned about "fasting"...What I learned about fasting... Hmm...<br />
<br />
I stink at it. <br />
<br />
Seriously. It should not have been that hard. But it was. Excuses like "Malia is in town and I don't get to have good BBQ that often" actually floated threw my head. (What? I live in Birmingham! I could have good barbeque every day of the year if I wanted! How ridiculous.) I came up with all sorts of excuses why I needed to cheat. And I did. It was very obnoxious to be in my own head all week. (If I'm being honest, it's a little obnoxious a lot of the time, actually.)<br />
<br />
In all seriousness, here's what the start of this little "experiment," and the prayer and study I have been a part of, has done for me:<br />
<br />
Renewed my awareness of the millions of people who are literally starving (you know, instead of just <i>starving</i> because it's been two hours since I've eaten), enslaved, abused, etc.<br />
<br />
Reminded me that Jesus is enough - affection, love, conversation, and (especially for me) validation.<br />
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Caused me to recognize that I am, in fact, more like one those entitled snobs that none of us can stand than I thought I was. I want to be able to eat what I want and when. I do not want to wait. I want things to be convenient. I do not want to stop doing what I'm doing because there is something bigger/more/different outside of me and my Gowing bubble.<br />
<br />
I have realized that for all the wheat, whole grain, fresh foods, etc. I feed my family, we are not nearly as healthy as I thought we were.<br />
<br />
Let's face it: my body is a temple to the Holy and Risen Lord. Scripture is clear on this fact. We do not have to go somewhere and ask someone else to talk to God on our behalf; because that covenant was changed with Jesus, my body is the temple. Do I always treat it as such? <br />
<br />
To that point, does God cringe when I pick up ________ from Publix? I feel better about the whole wheat blah-blah-blah my kid is eating, but there are still 26 ingredients in it, 14 of which I cannot pronounce. Is it really what's best?<br />
<br />
A woman sitting next to me at Bible study tonight pointed out that when God was chastising the Jewish people in the Old Testament, at least once He called them "arrogant, overfed, and uncaring." How true today. So, as we continue in the <i>spirit</i> of a fast (after all, the next week is clothes; I promise I'm not fasting from clothes. No one wants that), I am asking that God open my eyes to the areas where I need to <i>care more</i>. If my possessions steer my heart (as Jen Hatmaker so aptly put it), I pray I'm using what He has given me for His glory. Not mine. In 2 Chronicles 20, God's people fasted with expectation. I have a lot of expectation.Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-47106850915341112802013-01-17T12:29:00.001-06:002013-01-17T12:29:12.146-06:00Why I should quit before I get any further behind...If you haven't been here a while, here's a summary of what has been going on in my crazy life: at the insistence of the Holy Spirit, I am doing Jen Hatmaker's <i>7: an experimental mutiny against excess</i> study. Today began the week calling for some sort of food-related fast.<br />
<br />
Any normal person doing 7 would have looked at the list of suggestions this morning for the "food fast" this week and changed her mind. One of the choices listed was skipping a trip to the grocery store and using what you have in your kitchen to feed your family all week. That would probably have been <i>much </i> more applicable to me. Especially as I added up all of the food items in my pantry, refrigerator, and freezer, and came to over 279! (I say "over" because I forgot to count the chips, bread, and cereal.) I am pretty sure that is ridiculous. I, however, had already prayed over my list of items I was choosing to eat and decided they were appropriate if a little too lenient to be considered a true fast, so I decided to stick to my guns. Ugh. <br />
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The morning started early - I rolled over around 4 I think, and dozed until 6:30. I read my Bible and did a portion of today's study. Then before I even got out of my jammies I messed up on the fast thing: I started to get my coffee ready, but remembered at the past second not to pour. When I fixed oatmeal for all of us, out of habit I put in the butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, and craisins in my oatmeal along with everyone else's. Oops. I ate it anyway. <br />
<br />
It is freezing out. Literally. Snowing. See.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zzV80VRJwS5dj4qTOBd8qgWKNLAHTe3QJcdfYpbEFObYw-dJpnof42uonrqQOcO6mudsYXxyBYAm5j5ZND2zAAA610OpxrRN_19fDSuvJKcZEdmdE-l6EUJfUsxsWb7u4ODea2VCCrxZ/s1600/photo+(65).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zzV80VRJwS5dj4qTOBd8qgWKNLAHTe3QJcdfYpbEFObYw-dJpnof42uonrqQOcO6mudsYXxyBYAm5j5ZND2zAAA610OpxrRN_19fDSuvJKcZEdmdE-l6EUJfUsxsWb7u4ODea2VCCrxZ/s1600/photo+(65).JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our back porch</td></tr>
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Of course in central Alabama, when it snows things complete shut down. Apparently I do too, as all morning long my brain has been pounding "need coffee. need coffee. need coffee." The funny thing about this is that I drink one small cup a day. I love coffee and could drink four cups, but limit myself to one. Why is this so difficult then???<br />
<br />
After dropping Addison off at school and Audrey in the nursery, I worked out for like a second. Afterwards I ran into several friends from Sunday school dropping their kiddos off. They're all doing a Bible study that I decided not to do because of this 7 fiasco. As I got in the car I thought, "should I quit 7 and start the other?" Here's the thing: I've been praying fervently for opportunities to get to know women around me better. I have said a hundred times that the thing I miss most about Pensacola is the deep friendships there. I have friends here, don't get me wrong. Wonderful, sweet friends. But what I have been praying for is the "oh you're sick? Here let me bring you some soup..." The "I forgot to thaw out chicken for dinner and now I'm too lazy. Want to meet us for Mexican instead?" The "Myhusbandandorkidsaredrivingmenutsbutyouknowmewellenoughtolovemeanyways" kind of friends. So I drove away stumped. Wouldn't that opportunity have been <i>it?</i> What I have been praying for? Why, then, all the push from the Holy Spirit to do 7? I came home a little bummed out. (And un-caffeinated!) I realize part of the point of a fast is for prayer, so I start seriously praying. Not because I'm burdened or sad or lost or angry. I just want there to be a <i>point </i> to all this! I heard Jen say on the video that accompanies our study yesterday that sometimes our attachment to what we feel entitled to (i.e. "I want my food how I want it and I want it now) is a mask for our need for approval, love, validation. That's it.<br />
<br />
That's<i> it </i>for me. Don't I already have all that I need? Haven't there been enough folks pouring into my life? Isn't it time for me to do that for someone else? <br />
<br />
Or better yet, haven't I already been validated? Loved? Is it not enough that Jesus died on the cross <i>for</i> <i>me</i>? What more validation, what better friend do I need? <br />
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Part of this study is becoming more aware of the poorest of the poor around the world. The trafficked, the enslaved, the abused, the hungry and starving. I am thrilled and anxious about this part of it. That leads to my prayer for myself during this "experiment": <br />
<br />
<i>Lord, may you break this spirit of entitlement in me, and in its place may there be less of me and more of Your Kingdom. Give me a right perspective, and wisdom, discernment, and mercy. Help me care about the neediest, and learn how you want me to act. </i><br />
<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-90558433254628868882013-01-16T09:33:00.003-06:002013-01-16T09:33:26.659-06:00This 7 thing is going to kill the last bit of sanityHave you looked up 7 yet? You should! Or check out Jen Hatmaker's blog. The book intro is pretty funny. (It is a little like having a conversation with my good friend Barbara Burks: upfront, completely honest, not alone, and leaves you wishing you had the boldness to say more things out loud.) The blog and book together are leaving me more and more uncomfortable with how I spend, wish, live, etc.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow starts a week of this "experiment" where I am supposed to come up with some sort of food-related fast. This will be difficult for me for lots of reasons:<br />
I love food. <br />
I have never turned food down. <br />
I am currently cooking for a husband, a picky 2 year old, and nursing a baby and I simply do not think I can function while cooking 3 sets of every meal for a week. <br />
<br />
Yesterday I tried to sit down and make a list of the foods I thought my entire family could survive on. Things like " if I list tomatoes, can I include tomato <i>sauce</i>?" ran through my mind. (Perhaps this misses the point of a fast.) My smoke detector started going off during nap time (it's overly sensitive and goes off every other time I use the iron; I wish this could explain why my family looks wrinkled on a regular basis but it doesn't). The alarm startled both of my semi-sleeping girls, causing about twenty minutes of frantic screaming from both at the same time, and leading to an hour of the baby only not crying if I was holding her (very unlike her). I had a nap-time list of things to do about a mile long, so by the time I got everyone settled down I was stressed out and hungry and still trying to think of foods I could live on for a week. What did I do to calm down? Quickly devoured 4 oatmeal raisin cookies. Seriously. (Did I mention that I don't turn food down? They were asking to be eaten!) I then proceeded to make three successive mistakes on an evite that I sent out, spilled the crayons I was trying to clean up, made a mess on my up-to-that-point clean white kitchen floor, and remembered that I had laundry in the washer quickly molding. I was completely at a loss and thought to myself "there is NO WAY I am going to get through this week without candy!" Then I tossed back some M&Ms to make it till dinner. (Its a wonder I am not diabetic.)<br />
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In all seriousness, I am interested in this fast thing. It's something I've never done, and I'm excited about what the Lord has to show me. I have been praying that I don't turn this study/experiment into a list of "to dos" to check off - as the obsessive compulsive side of me has a tendency to do - and instead allow it to be an opportunity for less of me and my stuff, and more of God. The sections of this "experiment" are:<br />
Food<br />
Clothes<br />
Possessions<br />
Media<br />
Waste<br />
Spending<br />
Stress<br />
<br />
Aren't we all in need of down-sizing in at least a few of these areas? Besides the sugar addiction, food is not really something I struggle with, but I regularly have to repent of coveting others' clothes and stuff. I am on Facebook WAY too much, and I'm sure Brad can't wait for me to go through the spending part of this. I am pretty sure I'll have to give Brad up during the stress week though, as he is typically what stresses me out. (Just kidding... a little.) So if this turns into something more than a few weeks of time set aside for prayer, and becomes a life of a little less <i>Maile</i> out there, I am absolutely positive it's for the best.<br />
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So here it is, the 13 foods I think I'm going to live on for a week:<br />
Oatmeal<br />
Eggs<br />
Apples<br />
Bananas<br />
Oranges<br />
Tomatoes/tomato sauce<br />
Broccoli<br />
Carrots<br />
Cheese/milk products<br />
Whole wheat bread<br />
Whole wheat pasta<br />
Chicken<br />
Beef<br />
<br />
To keep my sanity, I may be forced to make adjustments along the way. Please note: zero caffeine and zero sweets. Ugh. Wish me luck!<br />
<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-46493996902755311122013-01-10T22:19:00.002-06:002013-01-11T08:10:41.496-06:004 Months, 31 woman, and 7 things I'm a little anxious aboutI kind of can't stand shots for my kids. Scratch that. I <i>really</i> can't stand them. Scratch that. I kind of can't stand visits to the pediatrician. Scratch that. It's really just well visits that I don't like. Scratch that too. It's really just that I cannot stand, get unbelievably annoyed, see red about the fact that I made an appointment over a month ago for my kid to be here so I know you knew I was coming yet we were still here for almost two hours, the nurse looked at me like I have a colicy baby but really I just have an infant who doesn't need to sit in this sterile, bright room in only her diaper for forever waiting to be stuck by multiple needles and missing her naptime, and I'm super nervous anyways about shots because I read that Jodi Picoult book about the kid who wasn't autistic until he had shots as a kid. Phew! It felt good to get it off my chest. (English teacher friends - forgive me. But if you have ever had a conversation with me you know that this is exactly what it sounds like coming out of my mouth.)<br />
<br />
Just so you don't think I'm crazy and dumb: I like my pediatrician. And I love that every time we have gone in for a sick visit, it's a super short wait. That's why we still go there, in spite of the ridiculous wait sometimes. And I will, of course, continue to vaccinate my kids; I would of course choose life for them over the debilitating diseases we're vaccinating against. And, yes, I know you don't "catch" autism; I'm just a little nuts and look for reasons to be nervous about my kiddos. Today was Audrey's four month check up. And it was a doozy. Can you tell it stressed me out a little?<br />
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On another note, I have been meaning to write about some things on here, but have been waiting to work out how it all fits together in my brain. I do not have that figured out yet, but here goes. Bear with me.<br />
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Have you ever read Proverbs 31? "A woman of noble character, who can find?..." (Gee thanks.) It has popped up on my radar several times in the last month, which usually means I am supposed to do something/learn something. I sort of ignored it at first. I mean, I've read this chapter about a hundred times. I know it's supposed to be challenging women to do a bunch of great things for her husband and family. I kept reading people's blogs, and hearing about this girl on the Today Show, all who tried to do each of the things in the chapter and failed miserably. (Who wouldn't? I mean, "In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers." vs. 19 What in the world is a distaff? And I can sew but I certainly don't own a spindle.) It seemed to me that these women were being overly analytical - a habit most women I know struggle through - and were simply missing the point of the chapter. So on Tuesday when I walked into Moms and More, a monthly Bible study my pastor's sweet wife leads, and saw that the topic was Proverbs 31, I rolled my eyes. (Is a minister's wife allowed to roll her eyes about the Bible? Not sure. Shhh.) But, as all things involving the Holy Spirit do, it was exactly what I needed. <br />
<br />
In the spirit of starting the new year, well, <i>new</i>, I've been mentally reviewing and rethinking the way I do my job. Since my job is my kids, my husband, and our house, I've really been thinking and praying about the way our days are laid out. Talking to other stay at home moms and reading blogs (this pesky internet will be the death of me), I began to think <i style="font-weight: bold;">all my time could be better spent. </i>What? <i>All</i>? Yes, all. I re-thought trips to the store with two kids, showering while the girls are awake (read: showering ever), how I choose what I buy for our family, etc. This brief review of Proverbs 31 was, for me, an encouragement. In a nutshell, here's what it takes to be that "woman of noble character":<br />
Fear the Lord. (vs. 30)<br />
Be trustworthy with my marriage relationship, the lives & minds of my children, and strive to manage our home well. (vs. 11-12)<br />
Make wise choices when shopping; teach my children, no matter what I'm doing; work vigorously and eagerly (read: don't take two day to finish laundry, quit griping about the clutter, etc.) (vs. 13-14)<br />
Give freely to the less fortunate and provide for those who serve (vs. 20 and 15)<br />
Prioritize (vs. 27)<br />
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In other words, keep up the fight girls. Use your time wisely. Put your family first. And when you need a nap or a shower, take one. (Especially the latter.) And quit beating yourself up about stuff.<br />
<br />
On a similar front for me (and I use the war-like term on purpose here, folks), I have started the Bible study <u>7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess</u>. I am excited and nervous and annoyed about it, all at once. A few weeks ago I looked at a list of Bible studies being offered this semester at my church, and this was one that peaked my interest, but I was on the fence. I mean, I don't feel like we live in <i>excess</i>. But that's beside the point. Within a week of hearing about this study, I had heard from three other people (without my soliciting their advice) that I should absolutely read the book and do the study. (Holy Spirit. <i>Ugh.</i>) I balked, though. "If you compare our little family to ________ who lives down the street or across town, or who sits down the pew from me, or who I follow on Pinterest, I am practically living in poverty." That's something I might say to myself. <br />
<br />
But the thing is that the Holy Spirit is not interested in how I match up to folks around me. What matters is how much of me is doing what I've been called to do. So I'm swallowing my anxiety and reading up on others around the world. And pouring through scripture with the author, Jen Hatmaker. And becoming obsessed with her blog. (Read it. Now, please.) And sort of wishing that I had never heard of this craziness. (I mean, I am going to have to fast from food. Actually not eat some stuff folks. It sounds sort of insane to me.) And also getting excited that God is drawing me into what He is doing in His church. Think about it: Francis Chan. David Platt. Jen Hatmaker. A ton of other folks at Passion Conference, for two years in a row. Something <i>radical</i> is happening here y'all. Not just here, but <i>all around the world.</i> The Bride of Christ has been called to be the hands and feet of our Lord, and we can't continue to pretend that we don't really know what that looks like. Or that our lives are actually challenging or persecuted. (If you have no idea what I am talking about, please go immediately to Amazon.com or your local library and buy/borrow Chan's <u>Crazy Love</u>, Platt's <u>Radical</u>, or look up Passion Conference, 2013. Be prepared to feel uncomfortable.)<br />
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It may take a few years before all of this new way/old way/the-way-Believers-should-have-been-in-the-first-place becomes commonplace, or frankly it may never be, but I want to be a part of it. And I am thankful God nudged me to at least be on the edge. (To be honest I have been praying that Jesus comes back ASAP, like before my children hit puberty, but that's a blog for a different day.)Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-25959946618142895712013-01-08T15:54:00.002-06:002013-01-08T15:54:23.040-06:00Happy New Year... a little lateDid the holidays completely wear you out? The weeks in between Thanksgiving and Christmas are always a little hectic - even for me who makes it a point to do as little "Christmas shopping" during the actual Christmas season as possible - with parties and visits to Santa and Christmas services, etc. Add to that the seemingly unending Crud that we Gowings were passing around and it just seemed draining!<br />
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Our Christmas trip to North Carolina was a blast! Mom put together a beautiful setting for us to celebrate Christ's birth, with a couple of new family members. We got to spend time with my dad, back from Iraq for a few weeks, my brother and his fiance, and my sister's sweet little family. Audrey loved the extra attention, and Santa Claus (and "RaRa") nailed it with the gifts for Addison, who cannot stop playing with her new princess toys. We normally watch a little too much TV, and December I was worse than usual: instead of a few episodes on Disney and a movie now and then, we enjoyed those Christmas movies that were playing almost nonstop! Apparently Addison misses them: on Sunday she informed me, "If the Grinch's mommy would just give him a bath, maybe he could be pink instead of green. If he were pink then he would be happy, like Christmas, and love Jesus." What?!? <br />
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Right after we returned, I threw the gals and some laundry in the car to head south the Pensacola for "cousin camp" with the McPherson side of the family. What a crew! I loved getting to visit with the kiddos, watch Addison attempt to wrestle with the big boys, "ice" skate at the Blue Wahoo's winter wonderland, visit with some sweet friends, and generally enjoy a house full of loved ones.<br />
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Thinking about the year that has passed is a little overwhelming! So many changes...<br />
Our little family of three was in a new town<br />
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Then there was a baby on the way<br />
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New House. New Adventures<br />
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Addison turned two<br />
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And started preschool<br />
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And learned where my make up is<br />
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We welcomed sweet Audrey Lynn<br />
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Addison loves her baby sister<br />
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And we started functioning as a family of four...<br />
We are learning how to manage. <br />
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Happy New Year! I pray you have a blessed 2013. And that you're finding places to put all your Christmas stuff.<br />
<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-68101476132292231672012-12-14T15:38:00.000-06:002012-12-14T15:38:03.927-06:00A Christmas prayer for Connecticut... and for all of usCome, thou long expected Jesus! Born to set thy people free...<br />
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Free from sin. Free from fear. Free from anguish and devastation. Free from pain and suffering. Free from mourning. Free from the insanity and cruelty that so often defines the human condition. <br />
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Free to pray. Free to love. Free to wish. Free to be overwhelmed with anger at senseless violence. Free to feel joy in spite of devastation. Free to believe in a God who is in control despite whatever chaos we find ourselves in. Free to disagree about a solution to this awful problem. Free to focus our efforts on prayer.<br />
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Prayer for salvation. Prayer for wisdom for us, and wisdom for our leaders. Prayer for the mourners. Prayer for people who find themselves so empty that they dwell on the idea of destroying the lives of others. Prayer for the lost.<br />
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"Come, thou long expected Jesus,<br />
born to set thy people free;<br />
from our fears and sins release us,<br />
let us find our peace in thee.<br />
Israel's strength and consolation,<br />
hope of all the earth thou art;<br />
dear desire of every nation,<br />
joy of every longing heart.<br />
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Born thy people to deliver,<br />
born a child and yet a King,<br />
born to reign in us forever,<br />
<b>now thy gracious kingdom bring.</b><br />
By thine own eternal spirit<br />
rule in all our hearts alone;<br />
by thine all sufficient merit,<br />
raise us to they glorious throne."Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-61036717806659758022012-12-06T16:39:00.001-06:002012-12-06T16:39:05.116-06:00Life with a strong-willed kiddo.Merry Christmas! Have you caught the Christmas spirit yet??? Or - as my brother in law describes it - Have you fallen off the Christmas cliff? It doesn't take much to put me in a Christmas-y mood. I would have reached the "cliff" a lot sooner if it weren't for the weather: it's so warm here our miniature Azaleas out front are blooming! (No, I'm not joking. There are two tiny red flowers out of my window right now.)<br />
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Before I continue with my holiday post and fun pictures, I need to address something. In the past couple of months I've heard from a couple of people (two of the three people who actually read this, haha) about the content of my little blog. I have heard that my sweet Addison must be a "hellion" because of some things I've written about her. And then I've heard that my children must be angels because I am "always" posting stuff about how wonderful they are. THEY ARE! And also, SHE IS a hellion sometimes! That is just life! I started this blog as a way to connect with folks I don't get the chance to see very often, and it has sort of evolved into a place to connect with folks in the same stage of life as we are. You know: that place where one day is peachy and the laundry is done and you get a nap and wake up thinking how awesome it is to have two kids. Then the next day rolls around and by 8am you wonder how you will make it to 8:15 without committing murder or pulling all your hair out. The play room looks like a hurricane, there's poop on the bathroom floor, you haven't showered in three days, the baby is still in her jammies at dinner time, and dinner is something the husby has picked up because there was absolutely NO way you could use your two hands for anything other than holding or rocking or scolding or spanking a kid. That is simply the life of a woman at home with her two babies. (And I am certain it is even crazier when both parents work - my hats off to y'all who pull that off so beautifully!) I just wanted to be sure to make it clear: I haven't figured it all out. I don't have all the answers, or many at all for that matter. I have one answer: Jesus. I try to start my days out with Him. I cling to Him when the day is messy. (Okay, when the day is crazy messy, I usually just end up in a heap on the couch asking Him to make the next day better and praying I didn't scar anyone for life.) And on both the rotten and wonderful days, I try to remember that the Lord blessed us with the opportunity for me to stay home with our gals. I think this is the best thing for our family right now and I wouldn't trade it for anything different in the world. Well... a tantrum-free world might be nice.<br />
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Now, onto the fun stuff. I LOVE CHRISTMAS! I love the decorations, the music, the cheesy movies, the crazy clothes, the goodies, everything! If it wasn't such a slanderous thing to do to the turkeys, I would decorate my tree weeks before Thanksgiving. I restrain myself and wait until the night we get home from traveling though. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this. My sister and I used to lay under our tree and check out the lights. Perhaps my gals will do the same.<br /></td></tr>
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This year looks a little different for us for a lot of reasons. This is our first as a family of four. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first Thanksgiving as a family of four, too!</td></tr>
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It is our first Christmas in this house. Last year I didn't even really decorate, since we had just moved and were in that tiny rental. I am loving all of the stuff with Addison this year! She is at an age where she "gets" some of it. She loves to read different parts of the Christmas story. And she likes to talk about Santa. We have basically had someone sick since Audrey was born, so we are ready to be well. Hopefully this unseasonably warm weather will help us out with that. I am still bundling the girls up as needed though.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Audrey bundled up for "playtime."<br /></td></tr>
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We loved getting to visit with friends and family at Thanksgiving! What a fun - albeit crazy - time in Pensacola! Letting the cousins and Aunt B and Uncle Brian meet Audrey, and playing with all the "big boys" was a blast. I am sure Addison thinks our house is so boring compared to Missy and Pop's. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet Jakey giving my baby gal a kiss</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Addie had SO much fun with Ben</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of mischief in their futures</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Kate</td></tr>
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Seeing some sweet friends and meeting some new babies made me extremely nostalgic for Pensacola. I know the Lord has us in Birmingham for a reason. I love our friends here, Brad is so satisfied at his job, and we are getting used to being Alabamians again. But oh, how I miss my friends on the coast... lunches together, trips to the beach, walks to the park, and "playdates" that last so long we put the kiddos down for naps together.<br />
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From the first pumpkins of the year through Valentines Day, I feel like the entire winter season is a time for reflection and renewal. I am so thankful for the time and energy friends and family have poured into my life. I am getting back into the habit of having time with God every morning. This is my little spot. (It doesn't always have stockings.) My little light above the table broke the other day; there is something wrong with the wiring. Now that it is dark when I get up to study my Bible at 6 or 6:30, I will have to find a new place, which kind of bums me out.<br />
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My prayer life, as always, has been evolving. I think that's healthy. What you talk to the Lord about should probably always reflect what is going on in your day. In my case: my kids and my husband. The other day as I was putting Audrey to bed I was praying for her out loud. (I will actually have to stop doing this soon; whenever I sing or talk to her right now she coos and sings back to me. I guess I have another talker on my hands.) I was praying, as usual, for her salvation. And for God to reveal Himself to her often. And for her spouse's salvation. And on and on. Eventually I landed on Addison and her behavior lately. (She is very, VERY good at being two!) I started reading <i>The Strong-Willed Child.</i> I was thinking about things some folks have said about the book and about Addison being strong-willed. Folks (myself included, if I'm being honest) usually nod and wink and say "Oh wow." Really? Is it that awful? Shouldn't we want our children to be strong willed? I've spent the last couple weeks steeling myself against it, but I should be thankful for it, right? My sister's strong will and rebelliousness as a toddler is almost legendary. The stuff parents fear and pray their kids don't turn into. But as an adolescent, that will turned into something morally solid. Not only for herself but for others. Something that, as a mom, I want desperately for my children. Yes, potty training has turned into a battle of wills, along with dinner time, and so many other things. But her nature also includes singing "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" at the top of her lungs all through Target. And being so protective of Audrey that when someone takes a peek at her Addison yells, "Don't touch her! She's our baby!" So, in the matter of moments, my prayer changed into thankfulness for Addison's nature. And for me to be able to nurture it in her. Now, if only I can find a formula for managing it... <br />
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-84930124034291707232012-11-19T17:54:00.003-06:002012-11-19T17:54:51.406-06:00Gratefulness<br />
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I keep seeing all these posts on Facebook for what people are thankful for. I love them! I considered jumping on the bandwagon for about a second, until I realized that at that moment it was already several days into the month, and there would inevitably be days where I totally forgot to post anything and I would feel ridiculous. So, as I have a few moments here and there, I'm doing it on the blog instead.</div>
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I am thankful for...</div>
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Salvation. The freedom in Christ I receive but rarely take full advantage of, which comes from the gracious mercy that my loving Savior pours out new every morning. Instead of living in the abundance of said mercies, I continue to nurture my sin nature (which should be long dead to me) and waste my time asking myself why I can't or don't or won't have or be __________. Which leads me to...</div>
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Forgiveness. I am so grateful for forgiveness.</div>
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Bradamuffin. I'm so thankful for his wisdom and leadership and love. I love the way he loves our girls. I love the way he's always got a plan. (And I love that he stays with me in spite of the awful nickname, haha.)</div>
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Addison. Wow. I knew that motherhood would be wonderful, but how wonderful was absolutely beyond my imagination. And every day (well, most days), I enjoy it more and more as I get the privilege of seeing her grow and learn and love. I am amazed at the gifts and traits I already see the Holy Spirit growing in our gal. Is it my overactive imagination, or will her slightly stubborn streak one day turn into leadership like her daddy? And when she loves on her friends in school who are sad, and asks girls in ballet to play, is she being an encourager like her mama? The mind reels at the possibilities. It may be my imagination, but I love it nonetheless. I love hearing her sing and explain Jesus to her stuffed animals. Mostly I'm thankful that I already see a loving spirit in her. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yes, she is holding my well-worn copy of <i>We Were Soldiers. </i>Kid after my own heart!</td></tr>
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Audrey. How does one mama get so lucky as to have two sweet-natured children? When Audrey woke up this morning (NOT crying, after 8 1/2 hours, by the way), she smiled and cooed and giggled at me as I changed her diaper. I could not help but wonder if it's by nature that both our girls are good-natured in the morning, or if it's sheer blessedness? Seriously, while I may enjoy sleeping till 7:30 every once in a while, it's so wonderful to have everyone up and happy in the morning! I always hear people say that the second child is crazier than the first... The jury is still out on that one (Audrey is only 9 weeks old after all), but so far we've gotten another easy, sweet baby. And, just like her sister, she is a nosy people-person. (I wonder where she gets it???)</div>
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As I've mentioned on this blog before, I am overwhelmingly thankful for the legacy of faith our families and friends brought to Brad and I, and that we have the privilege of passing on to our gals. The time some folks have spent on their knees for the two of us - and probably for our families because of us, haha - is evident and we remain abundantly blessed by others who pour out love on us like nothing else.</div>
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I am so thankful to be able to stay home with our girls. This is something that Brad and I used to actually argue about when we were first married: I was certain that I would never want to quit my teaching job, and was convinced that it would never dawn on me to even want to stay home with kids. Boy has that changed. To that point, I'm thankful for my last full time teaching job... It was so much more stressful, time-consuming, exhausting, and seemingly pointless than my previous two jobs. I am now certain that the Lord used my two years there to bring me to the point of changing the desires of my heart. His plan is always so much bigger and better than we can imagine for ourselves.</div>
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I'm grateful for what being a mom has taught me about our relationship with the Father.</div>
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I'm thankful for the holiday season. From the first day of fall when I get out my pumpkins to the week after New Years when I grudgingly take down the tree, it's a constant reminder of the attitude of gratefulness I should be living out all year long. I need reminders. </div>
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By the way, I think it should be spelled "GREATfulness." Mr. Webster (quite appropriately) never asked me though.Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-90586581439687299022012-11-01T17:17:00.003-05:002012-11-01T17:17:50.476-05:00Motherhood FavoritesSo, it's been a long day. Today started out with two poop accidents in big girl undies, while I was on the phone with the cable company. (Collective "eeewwwwee!") As I wrapped up an unhelpful phone call and tried to clean up post-Halloween-we-had-too-much-candy-poop in Addison's big girl britches without losing my cool, I took a deep breath. (Because yes-you read that correctly-we're the only nut jobs dumb enough to potty train a two year old with a new born in the house.) Tuesdays and Thursdays are supposed to be the easy days! The days where I get a few hours with just Audrey and I while Addison's at mom's morning out. Where I might actually get a workout and/or shower completed. Where the house might not sound like a herd of elephants running all morning, or a tornado coming through. While trying to listen to the Charter Communications lady and Addison at the same time, I decided that today would not be one of those Thursdays, and I gritted my teeth to get ready. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGO90Ld_Wo5afVlwNikmsHMcOAvOyykMoTFMKD93srWD_S-T4Hjmv1ogPop7yzY9kzb-tCgGxp2Y5eI5OWzQryGtFyu3AAUYmYT8y5mANPop8QtT5U5o2CP-CZSOq2GqMTwhsG9wK2-X6K/s1600/photo+(18).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGO90Ld_Wo5afVlwNikmsHMcOAvOyykMoTFMKD93srWD_S-T4Hjmv1ogPop7yzY9kzb-tCgGxp2Y5eI5OWzQryGtFyu3AAUYmYT8y5mANPop8QtT5U5o2CP-CZSOq2GqMTwhsG9wK2-X6K/s1600/photo+(18).JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we fit in some snuggle time this morning... check out these cheeks!</td></tr>
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One trip to Wal-Mart, one cuddle session with Audrey, an un-finished workout, two more gross changes, and two extremely loud Charter Cable guys (precious nap-time-wreckers) later, the house is still standing. The Lord provided a seemingly endless morning for me to get most of what I wanted to accomplish done, and me with enough energy and patience to take it all in stride. Funny how that happens, huh? When you think that surely you're gonna lose it, God blesses you with an extra dose of sanity. Some surplus perspective to be able to laugh at the fact that your two year old is in bed calling "ALL ABOARD!" to all of her stuffed animals individually (apparently there is an separate train coming for each of them), instead of sleeping. A super-strong anti gag-reflex so that the endless laundry from a new born and a potty-training toddler doesn't overwhelm you. God is so good. And He is enough. And He is faithful. <br />
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Here are some recent pictures of us enjoying this beautiful fall.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX8_Q8YJxwx3Tv7hzoTydeitynM_CpYkJnZQIA4rq1IbktKarLqsQZ2cdgcOoHzt5O_x8M-n_ghIpCfxoUt72ukv_3_MKLj7x_mvxnb74OP4YSiheJ_7WouDQyCGKf_sY16JfA9iutBCdl/s1600/RSCN0374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX8_Q8YJxwx3Tv7hzoTydeitynM_CpYkJnZQIA4rq1IbktKarLqsQZ2cdgcOoHzt5O_x8M-n_ghIpCfxoUt72ukv_3_MKLj7x_mvxnb74OP4YSiheJ_7WouDQyCGKf_sY16JfA9iutBCdl/s320/RSCN0374.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eRnk7cakRQkldV2wPUxX73gLBiTeCvoVLbVq8bnvYsl2evlH4VS5FdA-tNQrNH_T6K2mr0mokn4m4eVI8qDbVF_uCBXfy_wh2JOrQAh5nvddk-1hRgAXIkcwN5kYrGT7UkzY_uof1Apw/s1600/DSCN0244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eRnk7cakRQkldV2wPUxX73gLBiTeCvoVLbVq8bnvYsl2evlH4VS5FdA-tNQrNH_T6K2mr0mokn4m4eVI8qDbVF_uCBXfy_wh2JOrQAh5nvddk-1hRgAXIkcwN5kYrGT7UkzY_uof1Apw/s320/DSCN0244.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">running around Samford with my sweet nephew Holmes</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPr-XVRwPa_zSficB0JGR4SxoS25qBTVNtfnDMbxMhBbP5Qg4NxAosygBUmwbgMvj7DBxEq_Et-Wm_8T4uxKnsfH37CYlkHaQPcmOQH7CKHE8NW6vdeH-gqt0P02s5J3voyH08ORF-eFe/s1600/DSCN0387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPr-XVRwPa_zSficB0JGR4SxoS25qBTVNtfnDMbxMhBbP5Qg4NxAosygBUmwbgMvj7DBxEq_Et-Wm_8T4uxKnsfH37CYlkHaQPcmOQH7CKHE8NW6vdeH-gqt0P02s5J3voyH08ORF-eFe/s320/DSCN0387.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall Festival time!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1ujV0jsU0oJ-QLyhdDoFTzQ78OPnvR7EMVC-nnjep8F3dF3ggR1rIcY2Wa5VPXTr4KOvE8I06XjIhqAhb3c99s0gECXaWtbwIaNZc7WV_6cjAWjVaQ27tALkfib8sysl3W5Ws7kq1nMd/s1600/photo+(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1ujV0jsU0oJ-QLyhdDoFTzQ78OPnvR7EMVC-nnjep8F3dF3ggR1rIcY2Wa5VPXTr4KOvE8I06XjIhqAhb3c99s0gECXaWtbwIaNZc7WV_6cjAWjVaQ27tALkfib8sysl3W5Ws7kq1nMd/s1600/photo+(19).JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love strawberries... and when kiddos match... and these two gals!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjUZjFWg6_tAx8DCxy_DQKZFSI4xxkQqftJB1TBY17rwmUNHsgVTWRJlFZiZcDXNFCaIlk4swKcsxub55WgTUxd-nPIs8Kc5sUTdj55Gcgt-lzX51hV9neCS7Fqn5Kzf-Hla3pTX8XY3g/s1600/DSCN0418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjUZjFWg6_tAx8DCxy_DQKZFSI4xxkQqftJB1TBY17rwmUNHsgVTWRJlFZiZcDXNFCaIlk4swKcsxub55WgTUxd-nPIs8Kc5sUTdj55Gcgt-lzX51hV9neCS7Fqn5Kzf-Hla3pTX8XY3g/s320/DSCN0418.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First time trick-or-treating as a family of four</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmWCNXQiyKE3HmUwcCLTCRzAamvvrfv1NrgENGfiQ4s3AWJn_EeJ3QWXZsJFBRcXNL6-BXQm-PyMH2NrWcV1DA_zLKblcNcn8rTnc94zgMMENsTaNxnx1OIdtpq4oDuA6udyplrMnJl8O/s1600/DSCN0427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmWCNXQiyKE3HmUwcCLTCRzAamvvrfv1NrgENGfiQ4s3AWJn_EeJ3QWXZsJFBRcXNL6-BXQm-PyMH2NrWcV1DA_zLKblcNcn8rTnc94zgMMENsTaNxnx1OIdtpq4oDuA6udyplrMnJl8O/s320/DSCN0427.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mommy! Look at all my candy!"<br /></td></tr>
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So while I'm thinking about the good and the bad of mothering two babies, I wanted to share a few of my favorite things about motherhood. (These are not in order. And it's not a complete list.)<div>
~ Nap time. It doesn't happen often for me, but it's an elusive dream that I get to enjoy every once in a while.</div>
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~ Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches. I can finally eat them every day without feeling silly.</div>
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~ Hugs and kisses. The kind I don't have to ask for. </div>
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~ Coloring. I love coloring. And new crayons. Maybe more than my two year old.</div>
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~ Leg warmers. That's right. Between Audrey's leg warmers and Addison's outfit for mommy and me ballet, its like a 1980s workout video around here.</div>
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~ The library. I can now love the library (as I always have) without sounding like such a nerd. Instead I call it "instilling a love for reading."</div>
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~ When Addie says "I wanna howld you Mama!" Too sweet.</div>
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~ Bed head.</div>
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~ The way a baby falls asleep the second you hold her tight. It makes me so sad that Audrey is growing so fast! I fear she will out grow this stage soon.</div>
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~ Motherhood itself. I finally understand why my dad cries every time we leave. Or they leave. Or we hug. It's overwhelming. This feeling puts the love God must have for us into perspective. I understand it a teeny bit better, and am so thankful and overwhelmed at the same time. Like, I get how He must long for the day when this time on Earth is over and we can be with Him eternally in Heaven. And it makes me equal parts want it to come so I can be with Him, and want time to slow down so I can cherish time with my gals.</div>
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Rest time is over. I was about to post this when I heard a thump and Addison start yelling "Mommy! Help me!" over and over. I ran in to find her crying, and hanging upside-down from the side of the bed. She can flip off, but not back on. I'm the terrible mom who laughs at her kids. <br /><br />
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Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-26219383392957036432012-10-10T09:08:00.003-05:002012-10-10T09:08:53.635-05:00The Little things<div>
We all have those days where someone we see has it way more together than we do. It seems to me that <i>those </i>people are everywhere: The woman who has an endless amount of patience with her kids. The woman with an infant who doesn't have spit up on her shirt or poop somewhere on her pants. (The kid's poop; not mine.) The woman whose put an elaborate meal put together for her family without demolishing her kitchen. The woman who cooked at all. (My poor family has been on a steady rotation of casseroles, pasta, and grilled chicken for over a year.) The woman who looks great after working out. The woman who worked out at all. The woman whose kids look cute, without dirt marks on their knees and scuffs on their shoes, without bows askew. That woman drives me a little nuts. </div>
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I am pretty sure I have never been that woman. If I have been, the moments are few and far between, and I was stressed out getting there. And my kiddo has probably been a bit neglected and watched too much television that morning to allow me to get that way. Or she's emptied my makeup bag out while I was brushing my teeth. Or something.<br />
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I have a tendency to concern myself with random stuff. I clean and straighten our home obsessively, for example. Who cares? Brad doesn't. Addison doesn't. Just me. And I want to be early or on time to everything. That is next to impossible with an infant, let alone with an infant and an extremely independent two year old. <br />
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As a stay at home mom, I have tried to continue to have some sort of schedule to the week. I'm a planner, and this helps me function. I was reminded this week what else helps me function: a pal. A mom of kids similar in age who also shows up slightly frazzled; with one of her kids still in pajamas; who, like me, carries an endless supply of Goldfish crackers and fruit snacks in her purse. To sit while our kids raced back and forth, discussing the pros and cons of waiting to potty train when our kids are obviously ready, and what they're learning in preschool, seems to make the week a little easier. Knowing someone else sometimes feels like they're drowning in a sea of toys and diapers and laundry makes me feel a little less lonely. When Addison was little I had a couple of close friends with kiddos close in age. We did lunch and coffee dates where we let the babies sleep and we put our feet and just talked. It's been a while since I recognized the need for commiseration. It's so important! It reminds you that what's important is not always what's easy or what you wish your kid was doing. It reminds you what God has called us to as moms. It reminds you that sometimes just letting go and being with your kid is what matters. Isn't that why we stay home in the first place? I needed that reminder.<br />
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Another reminder came from one of those <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/allison-tate/mom-pictures-with-kids_b_1926073.html?utm_hp_ref=parents&ir=Parents" target="_blank">articles</a> on Huffington Post about motherhood. It was one of those pieces that made me tear up (doesn't take much these days... or ever). I was especially struck by the following:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="color: blue;">Our sons need to see how young and beautiful and human their mamas were. Our daughters need to see us vulnerable and open and just being ourselves -- women, mamas, people living lives. Avoiding the camera because we don't like to see our own pictures? How can that be okay?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">How true! Addison doesn't care if I'm racing back and forth around the house picking up laundry before I go get her from preschool. She doesn't care if the library books are returned a day late, or if dinner is take out or leftovers. She doesn't notice if her stuffed animals make it into the bed before she does, as long as they're there eventually. And she doesn't care if she eats lunch a few minutes earlier or later, based on when Audrey is fussing.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">So, I'm going to schedule more play dates for Mommy, because I know they benefit Addison and Audrey. (And even Brad.) And I'm going attempt the library story hour today. We will probably be late. My hair will be dirty and I'm pretty sure either my baby or I will smell like spit up, but I'll be there. And I'll try to be <i>all there.</i> So Addison doesn't remember me cleaning or cooking or how I looked, but instead remembers how much I enjoyed her.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">By the way, Audrey is one month old today. Where does the time go??? One more reason to slow down and enjoy the little things with my gals.</span></span><br />
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PS: it took me two days to write this post. </div>
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Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-71322260710153100672012-10-02T17:13:00.003-05:002012-10-02T17:13:33.888-05:00Life with Two<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well friends, we've got two... two sweet gals. This weekend it was rainy, and I had the pleasure of having both curled up in the bed with me. I couldn't help but wonder how we got so lucky. I am constantly in awe of these sweet blessings. Audrey Lynn came into the world on September 10, 18 inches long, and 7 pounds 4 ounces. Screaming as loud as she could. As Brad says, we were pretty nervous for about 30 minutes, but she calmed down and has been just as easy a baby as Addison was.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So, how is life with two different? I am pretty sure it will constantly evolve. Right now I'm still technically recovering from my C-section, so I'm not supposed to pick up anything over ten pounds. That's pretty difficult when the baby weighed almost 9 pounds at two weeks old and you still have a two year old who likes to be held. (You read that correctly: our little bit gained an ounce a day in her first 10 days at home! Phew!) The hardest part has been not picking up Addie and doing all those things we are used to. I actually overheard her explaining things to her Mickey Mouse doll last week:</div>
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"Mommy can't pick me up because of her owie. But <i>I love you</i>, so <i>I </i>can pick you up and hold you." Ouch.</div>
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I know she'll forget all about how often I've had to say "Mommy can't ______," when I can do all those mommy things she thinks I should. In the meantime Brad is her favorite, I can do nothing whatsoever - including read stories before bed or say prayers, and she climbs like a monkey up into her car seat, high chair, bed, and anything else up high. Our big girl is getting so independent.</div>
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The little gal is working on a schedule for Mommy... last night she slept almost 5 straight hours! (It's amazing how little it takes to make a new mom happy.) She grunts in her sleep like a goat, and coos whenever I carry her in the sling. Her chubby cheeks melt my heart. </div>
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Getting both out of bed and ready to go anywhere feels a little like I've worked out. Bed time when Brad is not home is touch-and-go. Any time Audrey cries, Addison gets distressed and says "Oh no! Mommy she's fussing!" It is super sweet how she doesn't ever want baby sister to cry, but it sometimes makes for an interesting race for me, back and forth between the playroom and the nursery, haha. </div>
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So while Brad and I stay busy taking care of an infant and chasing a two year old - and scratching our heads over the things she says - we'll continue to count our blessings. Two healthy, beautiful girls. Wow.</div>
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Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-36247660823943195672012-09-05T20:25:00.001-05:002012-09-05T20:25:46.426-05:00Here's your sign: the miracle of life.As I lay in bed a couple nights ago, I was amazed for the 100th time that I could not only feel my new daughter trying to get comfy in my stomach, but also feel her have the hiccups. The hiccups! And I asked my husband for the millionth time, "How could anyone who has ever been pregnant or nursed a baby ever question that there is an Almighty Creator?" Seriously. Feeling a life growing inside you is miraculous, and such a precious gift and reminder that there is a God. How can an obstetrician, who knows what babies do as they grow and how a mother's body changes - bones and hips and muscles actually change shape! - ever doubt that we were knit together in very specific ways by a Heavenly Father who tenderly cares for each life formed? I may gripe about how uncomfortable being nine-months pregnant is, but I am constantly in awe of this sweet baby inside my belly and our Father who decided to bless us with her.<br />
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Kind of on that subject... While watching NBC Nightly News today, I saw a flash-back to the Democratic Convention four years ago. The woman speaking said something to the point of "a woman considering an abortion should not be forced to have an ultrasound against her wishes." Then the camera showed a cheering crowd. First of all, I didn't realize that was a rule anyone anywhere who actually performs abortions enforces. Secondly, SHOULDN'T THAT TELL YOU SOMETHING??? If when an expectant mother sees the shape of her child - whether that be a teeny peanut in the first weeks of pregnancy, or the profile of a miniature face a few weeks later - she recognizes that it's a person, shouldn't that be a SIGN to anyone pro-abortion or pro-choice (let's face it, isn't that the same?) that a fetus is, in fact, a person? If hearing that sweet heart beat as early as 19 days is enough to make a woman change her mind about the value of the life she carries, shouldn't it tell our doctors, politicians, bloggers, voters, etc. that we cannot, should not, continue make an abortion so accessible? As comedian Bill Engvall has said, "Here's your sign."<br />
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Disclaimer: I'm not a political activist. I realize that in another woman's shoes, choices may be much harder to make. But I pray that cooler - more reasonable - senses prevail in our culture to teach women in all circumstances the early stages of life. And for leaders more aware of the sanctity of life.<br />
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Ps: If you've never heard Engvall and you like family comedy, check him out.<br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-11479424310528634192012-08-13T16:07:00.001-05:002012-08-13T16:12:02.673-05:00God is necessary, in all thingsDoes it ever seem like lessons, sermons, and even songs seem to follow a running theme? For the past few weeks any time I stop long enough to pay attention to anything - besides Veggie Tales music in the car - the messages have been connected and drawn me back to remember<i> God's necessity in and authority over all things</i>. I sat down yesterday to piece it all together. The reminder is always important, so I thought I'd share with anyone who cares to read...<br />
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So many people I know have been dealing with infertility. I mentioned our brief struggle trying to get pregnant on here once. I can only imagine the grief and pray for the struggling. I know women in the middle of it wonder at their bodies' inability to do what they think it's supposed to do. Husbands (if they're like mine was) want to fix it and probably want their wives to be able to focus on anything but the baby they so desire. A few weeks ago the sermon reminded me of these things. A guest preacher spoke on God's ultimate plan of salvation throughout Scripture, and he used examples of infertile women God used to bring His people back to Him. I've never once made the connection. Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Hannah, Elizabeth... all women who had begged for a the gift of a child. All women who eventually received a child who changed history. Reading their stories, we see God's amazing plan of salvation unfolding, and in it God proves to those women (and anyone else who reads scripture) that (1) God gave them their children, just as He gives all good things. (2) God is necessary, in all things. In other words, we cannot work out life for ourselves, no matter how basic it seems. (I need to make this my mantra!)<br />
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Whatever our season is - especially one of darkness - the place to be is in prayer and worship, even when we don't feel like God has been hearing what we're saying. I've especially struggled with this in the past. Sometimes I have to be intentional about making sure church doesn't become just the place where my husband works - instead of my place of worship. Even when the last place we want to be is with other believers, that's the best place for us, for a whole host of reasons.<br />
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When we say "Your will be done," how honest are we being? When we pray for specific things (healing, safety, a "normal" child, a season of happiness, etc.), are we giving God a list of what "I need"? Or maintaining a posture of obedience, sincerely realizing that <i>whatever</i> the Lord's will is, it is better than anything we could know or imagine? Sometimes a season of pain or struggle is what we need to learn or remember, and to live out the fact that<br />
<i>"My grace is sufficient for you"</i> and<br />
<i>"My power is made perfect in weakness" </i><br />
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Job 13:15 says "Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him." God's authority is based on His identity. We are called to trust and obey because of who God is, not what He has or is doing. We have to learn who Jesus is, so that knowledge of Him can continue to transform us into who He created us to be. John 15:1 -12 teaches me I should make this my prayer for every day:<br />
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<i>Oh Lord teach me how to abide in and reflect You in all things! </i><br />
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My child is apparently learning things, too. This morning she saw a wedding on TV and told me she was going to get married to Jesus. :) Shouldn't we all be in the mindset of becoming Jesus' bride? <br />
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-64240432413965015642012-08-07T20:30:00.000-05:002012-08-07T20:30:21.049-05:00A two-year old's stalling tactics...You may think that the stalling tactics of a two year old are immature or innocent. Surely we shouldn't use the word "tactic"?!? That implies manipulation. Well, naive friend of mine: my gal excels at manipulation! She has worked it into an art form! Already! <br />
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Sleeping has been a struggle for us for a while now. Even before we converted her crib into a toddler bed (when she climbed out about 3 months ago), A was avoiding napping at all cost. She doesn't scream to get up or cry when we put her down. Instead she sings every song she knows, names every person in our family, calls out the names of her friends, calls out the toys she sees around her room... you get the picture. If I'm in the right frame of mind, it's pretty fun to sit in the hall and listen to her. Especially now in her big-girl bed. She can stand up (which earns a spanking if we catch her), hang onto her bed rail, and see herself in the mirror. I first discovered her doing this, dancing back and forth, and telling herself she was pretty. (Ugh! I mean, she is, but have I created a monster???) So you see, naps are a rarity these days. If she happens to fall asleep in the car she's good, but otherwise she's up for almost two hours playing, and once every few days she actually falls asleep. It's exhausting to this pregnant mama, and a little nerve-wracking to imagine no naps when I have a newborn, too. <br />
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Back to the stalling tactics. These include but are not limited to,<br />
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"I cannot take a nap." "I don't yike to go to seep." "Can we wead da Jesus Bible 'gain?" "I yove you." "Want to give baby sister a kiss." (This involves kissing my belly button, which is apparently a portal through which the girls can talk and hug and kiss already. Ha!) "Will you say prayers 'gain?" "Mommy! I'm going to stand up!" <br />
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You get the picture. How can you say 'no' to saying more prayers? Apparently even a spanking is preferred to sleeping. Our girl is definitely a mess. And - not to brag - but how smart to use Jesus to stall?<br />
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I used to think my frustration about naptime was selfishness on my part. That I just wanted that time alone, to catch up on email or shower or start dinner in peace or whatever. That's certainly true at times. I just cannot be convinced that a two year old doesn't need a nap! Especially when she's whiny and grumpy all afternoon afterwards. Or when she wakes up the next day like this:<br />
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Anyone with morning hair like this has had some desperately-needed sleep! I'm at a loss on all future naps. Sigh. Perhaps she's just my girl in all respects: too nosy or interested in what's going on around her to calm down. Heaven knows she's every once of mine in other ways...<br />
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-6059597913932484042012-07-09T07:00:00.002-05:002012-07-09T07:00:15.955-05:00The gal is two!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Soon I will have to stop referring to Addison as our "gal." We will have two, after all. In the meantime I will continue to use this Gowing term of endearment for my sweet girl. My sweet big girl, I should say. She is two. The light of my life, her Daddy's love, the focus of our future and my days, and the gift that has taught me so much about myself and who God created me to be, as well as about our Father's love, is two years old! <br />
I distinctly remember discovering I was pregnant with her. Brad had such a funny reaction.<br />
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I remember being so scared when we found out she had to be delivered by C-section.<br />
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I remember waking up at midnight before going into the hospital to fix myself eggs and toast to tide me over; I couldn't eat for 12 hours before surgery, and I didn't want to be in a foul mood when they brought my baby to me. (If you've ever been around me when I'm hungry, you understand.) My dad got up to eat with me before we went back to bed.<br />
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I remember when they held her up and Brad walked around my head to get a better look at her. First he told me she was beautiful, then I think he said something about how the inside of my stomach was disgusting, then he realized our camera was out of batteries so he ran across the hall to borrow one. :)<br />
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I remember the first time I nursed her, the hospital had some sort of fire alarm or something go off, so all the grandpas and friends and youth who were visiting (and there were several of each) were ushered back into the room with us, awkwardly listening to Addison's first attempt at eating on the other side of a curtain. Haha.<br />
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I remember our first walk: Brad held me up, while I held onto the hospital bassinet for dear life and walked around the hall so slowly it seemed like time stood still. I'm pretty sure I was bent over at a 90 degree angle.<br />
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I remember being nervous about introducing Addison to Rosco, and quickly realizing we had nothing to be concerned about.<br />
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Our first days and weeks at home were a struggle. Thank goodness for my parents and sister, who all stayed so long to help! I cried like a baby when my mom left town, so sure I was going to screw up royally without help. But as I figured out what I was doing, and she learned how to not over-eat (she is, after all, her mother's child!), life got easier and my heart has seemed to grow outside of my body. It continues to do so. How do people without children understand even an ounce of the Father's love for us? I barely grasp it at all, and I tear up almost every time I pray with or for Addison. Her mere existence has brought joy to Brad and I from the moment we found out she was coming. <br />
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Even now, as the "NO!"s and "MINE"s have increased and sometimes led to more frequent spankings. As the twos come on strong and bring methods of manipulation that I never imagined my sweet baby capable of, I am struck by frustration, yes, but love. And laughter. (Let's face it: unless you're in the middle of Publix or something, a tantrum is often quite funny.)<br />
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So happy birthday sweet Addison Grace. I love you so much and I pray every day for your salvation, loving spirit, and kindness. Mostly I pray your daddy and I don't screw this up too badly.I know our sweet Savior has much, much in store for you!<br />
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The month leading up to her special birthday has been a busy one: settling in, visiting Texarkana for a week, family reunion south of Dallas, and a week in Pensacola has exhausted all of us but been so fun. A month in pictures should suffice...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-KeyJqmlPW3aLkMZbphpOh39QQX9XL5_MxkIp1fMl5mB7vyiNiKzuTwKVkf6eoByRhDu2aQUBGKkjM1fnBuqE1RwfJrOMXE4WmG1rAB3OhyXsoBen5LS9MoDkG9jR4e0I1WBlxXwGfW9/s1600/photo+(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-KeyJqmlPW3aLkMZbphpOh39QQX9XL5_MxkIp1fMl5mB7vyiNiKzuTwKVkf6eoByRhDu2aQUBGKkjM1fnBuqE1RwfJrOMXE4WmG1rAB3OhyXsoBen5LS9MoDkG9jR4e0I1WBlxXwGfW9/s320/photo+(11).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">practicing for "baby sister"<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOnDxRK-DzuYc4wAOTxh5Nx9Zpm2iuazLO-JS5v3mbD1G_e-XD7wlvtsF6VkReZf2GqT4dHT_ANHip-fyj20IOVp9i7s0-_nRqR8B3f5CscPV5yvPNGojwBoFIqhpJoQviY_BR0z6jlzp/s1600/photo+%252810%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOnDxRK-DzuYc4wAOTxh5Nx9Zpm2iuazLO-JS5v3mbD1G_e-XD7wlvtsF6VkReZf2GqT4dHT_ANHip-fyj20IOVp9i7s0-_nRqR8B3f5CscPV5yvPNGojwBoFIqhpJoQviY_BR0z6jlzp/s1600/photo+%252810%2529.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cousin Holmes</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDHXxSbr2Z7FId5baNJS3zmulaE3SohyBjsNbhNLVXZs3nKVVrche5-pAseNrzq59R4aRvqD1mOutbSM6ad1k17fJZ3t3igbHjiRGXapvTutnsQwYkG4jnbFznRbWlONoC4FWUX9sLTd3/s1600/photo+(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDHXxSbr2Z7FId5baNJS3zmulaE3SohyBjsNbhNLVXZs3nKVVrche5-pAseNrzq59R4aRvqD1mOutbSM6ad1k17fJZ3t3igbHjiRGXapvTutnsQwYkG4jnbFznRbWlONoC4FWUX9sLTd3/s320/photo+(9).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandaddy & RaRa</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbm3odiB8FiyjXQthsNvR2-1v0EdXIQi_qq2JyY1wppxCK4m0D1ty8B_jl-6b5y4ejoRMKoihU8xwEA4Cw_YOBP4Fh0QYFyrRdhI2BHCVw5t0o5nSnKNWrYqGJ22y86ELaxcgThe82pOtF/s1600/DSC_0259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbm3odiB8FiyjXQthsNvR2-1v0EdXIQi_qq2JyY1wppxCK4m0D1ty8B_jl-6b5y4ejoRMKoihU8xwEA4Cw_YOBP4Fh0QYFyrRdhI2BHCVw5t0o5nSnKNWrYqGJ22y86ELaxcgThe82pOtF/s320/DSC_0259.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">all the Gowing cousins + our sweet friend Will</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingVQj7y7-lHdsqkEXGcyWunQdXp0Z68mj_s6JiDs2kv0qWxHFpq5ZKQUdbUY1X5n2iySowYFkcQ_4hUsOnfJFLW1uZUW-odsBax2ShjUxWlIlaxINX38_3edk0hNXsBfJ7vavW7_2bmJU/s1600/photo+(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingVQj7y7-lHdsqkEXGcyWunQdXp0Z68mj_s6JiDs2kv0qWxHFpq5ZKQUdbUY1X5n2iySowYFkcQ_4hUsOnfJFLW1uZUW-odsBax2ShjUxWlIlaxINX38_3edk0hNXsBfJ7vavW7_2bmJU/s1600/photo+(13).JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">loving on our new cousin, baby Kate</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elmo birthday cake for the family "party"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yup: my kid for sure</td></tr>
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1313725056943473006.post-13819557970794815102012-06-07T16:31:00.000-05:002012-06-07T16:31:02.425-05:00And the hits just keep on coming...I was going to title this post "Some Rules to Moving." Then this morning happened and I just can't get past the comical aspect of what should have been a fairly simple move for our little family.<br />
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The rest of this post is going to sound really negative, so I need to say upfront that it all could have gone horribly, but it didn't. Brad's parents came into town to help, and help they did, taking turns keeping Addison or helping me at the house before we even moved our stuff. We are so thankful to them and some sweet friends who helped us. <br />
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We bought a house on May 18th. This comedy of errors started about a week before that, however, when I made the mistake of buying a Pottery Barn rug for A's "big girl room" from someone I found on Craigslist. It was hot outside, she was 20 minutes late to meet me, and I had to pee... not a good combination for a pregnant girl. By the time the woman got there to meet me, I was so antsy I didn't even have her roll the rug out! I talked her down to $100 and felt okay about it. Needless to say, I got it home and discovered a horrible mess! After multiple hours on my hands and knees spot cleaning, and a few rounds with a steam cleaner, the jelly stain is out, the dark who-knows-what-that-was is lighter, and what I can only hope was juice has actually drained the pink color in a few spots. Oh well. One day Addison will discover markers and I'll be glad I didn't pay the $799 that rug is currently listed for at the store.<br />
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With any move, you can expect to bleed some money. We knew coming into it we would spend quite a bit getting our electrical system up to code, putting in a couple new appliances, and other "move-in" type things. The Wednesday before we moved in, however, I had to laugh at the rotating group of sub-contractors in our house. Brad's dad and I were cleaning (the entire house was filthy), and throughout the day we had the deliverymen bring in my washer and dryer, a couple of sweet, round, red-neck electricians working nonstop, a plumber who looked like he belonged on the movie <i>Deliverance, </i>and two painters who spoke absolutely no English. All in one afternoon. Pretty funny.<br />
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We had asked around about a painter to do some touch up work on the inside of the home. I really wanted to paint all the rooms, but after taking a look at the trim work that's chipped and the ceiling that needed repainting in a few spots, we decided to take care of that and a couple of rooms. We had several suggestions of who <i>not</i> to use, and only one suggestion of someone who did good work. I met with him and was a little concerned about his limited English, but we stepped out and agreed on a price and an end date. To make a long story short, he did none of the work and hired out to guys who spoke no English, they finished a day late, my trim work hasn't been touched, the coats of paint are visibly are uneven, and I've been scraping drips of paint up off the floor with my fingernails. Ugh.<br />
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With lots of help from Brad's parents and a couple of movers, we got our stuff over here and some boxes unpacked. Brad's mom started loading the dishwasher looked up distressed: the baskets in the dishwasher were literally falling apart! We priced replacement baskets and quickly realized that it made more sense to buy a new dishwasher. A week later the deliveryman actually showed up, damaged my counter top, told me he'd have to cut the kitchen tile in order to get the old dishwasher out, and left me with two dishwashers, neither working! He came back two days later with reinforcements and put it in, charged me more money, and left with my new dishwasher not installed properly. Ugh!<br />
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Today I woke up with a long list of "to dos." I tore my back out during all of the moving stuff, so I've been taking it easy. I intended to finish unpacking the boxes, rearrange some stuff in A's room and run a couple of errands. About the time I was finishing breakfast I heard a strange gurgling noise from the guest bath. I will spare you the details and skip to the end: the plumbers came back and had to replace a portion of the sewage pipe under the house; there was a hole in it that someone had tried to fix with a large rubber band. The hits just keep on coming, and our monetary hemorrhage continues. :)<br />
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We are enjoying lots of things about the "new" place though: A's playroom, space in our kitchen, an actual backyard, etc. I'm thankful that we're discovering all these issues now, and not when I'm days away from delivering this sweet baby girl. Have I posted that yet? That this bundle of moves is a girl? It's a girl. And she's either going to be a runner like her daddy or a dancer like me, because she moves constantly! Can't wait to meet her. Well, I can wait... I need to wait... I don't know where any of our "newborn" stuff is yet!<br />
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<br />Maile Gowinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12171362356482743859noreply@blogger.com0