tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16713813207611781782024-03-01T10:57:04.391-08:00Hope in a Boy's WorldLiving, Giving, Loving, LaughingDana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.comBlogger326125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-70856045991594960352014-09-15T09:42:00.001-07:002014-09-15T09:42:36.985-07:00Sweet Sixteen 2.0<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Look at that face! Oh, how I just want to transport myself back in time to the summer of 2007 when this photo was snapped. He was about to enter third grade, celebrate his ninth birthday, lose some more teeth, start soccer practice and still thought I was the coolest chick to walk the earth. And today, he's a sophomore in high school about to get his driver's license. And I'm pretty sure he simply tolerates me.<br />
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But, oh how I love this middle child of mine. Ever since Ian Joseph came into this world, he has never been one to suffer fools. He either liked you or didn't. He had a strong will and could rarely be swayed or bribed to fit into your agenda for him. When we tried to train him to "cry it out" as a baby, he cried it out for close to an hour a night for 6 straight months. When he was a toddler and anyone attempted to capture a picture of him, he'd cover his eyes and scream. He hated being the center of attention or fussed over. He attempted sleep overs but when we refused to come get him after his midnight plea, he started walking home. This kid has a mind of his own and while it certainly hasn't made life easy as a parent, I've come to appreciate the benefits of this "what you see is what you get" personality.<br />
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In addition to never having to guess where you stand with Ian, he is also the most low maintenance, pragmatic kid I know. He is a simpleton in the truest sense of the word. He rarely asks for anything. When I knew he was going to be gone this summer for 2 weeks, I asked if he'd like me to paint his bedroom during that time. His response: "Why? All I do is sleep in there." Every August when the local fair comes into town, the other two boys are usually clamoring to get out there daily. A couple summers ago, I offered to take everyone out there for the day and purchase the overpriced all-day-ride bracelet. Ian requested the cash instead and invested it in his bike.<br />
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I could go on and on about all the qualities that endear me to this young man but I think I've made my point. <br />
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Happy 16th birthday to you, Ian! You keep me on my toes and fill my heart with joy.<br />
<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-82696214451200002392014-09-12T08:45:00.000-07:002014-09-12T08:45:56.532-07:00The summer that wasn'tSummer is my absolute favorite season of all. I love everything about it:: The sunshine. The longer days. The spectacular sunsets. The warm evenings. The laid back feeling. No school. No schedules. My fondest memories have usually occurred during the months of June, July and August. Not this year.<br />
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Summer of 2014 will go down in the weather record books as one of the sunniest, warmest, driest seasons in the Pacific Northwest. Those of us who call this region home live for these ten weeks of the year. And when the weather is superb, it spurs us on to endure the 6 months of gray skies that arrive in November. Unfortunately, try as I might, I found myself looking at the calendar in late July, realizing it was almost August and wondering why I was in such a funk. I shared my confusion with my mentor who has the ability to take any situation and put it into words in the most poetic, profound and encouraging manner. Her response made so much sense. She recalled the summer days when her daughters were in high school and rarely spending their days at home. Suddenly, they had jobs, boyfriends and a typical teenage social life that ranked higher than hanging out with Mom. She told me how she remembers being in the same emotional state I was describing to her. "I was home and available to my girls making sure they had what they needed to go off on their adventures but I was no longer going with them. We weren't having any fun together and I had lost my buddies." I knew exactly what she meant! The past 16 summers have been full of countless family adventures from camping to road trips to lazy days at the lake. Every year we planned something all of us would look forward to even if there were some individual trips mixed into those three months. This year was the summer of the boys going on their own adventures but the way it played out resulted in those trips overlapping each other and our family going 5 weeks with at least one of us gone. It really took its toll on my heart as a mom. It felt like 5 separate lives were being lived under the same roof with very little interaction. The disconnection was sobering.<br />
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Adding to the mix was Trey's summer travel schedule that resulted in his absence for 3 out of 4 weeks from late July to mid August. And, of course, everytime he was flying through the skies a crises ranging from the cat being hit by a car to the dryer breaking to flat tires reared its ugly head. I grew weary of holding down the fort and making decisions alone. However, it wasn't all as depressing as my rendition of the story is making it out to be. I did have some sunny spots that broke through the clouds of single motherhood. During each one of the solo parenting weeks, a friend visited from far away that I hadn't seen in a while. And I never get visitors. In July, Ashley was here from Rochester, Kristy came from Denver. The first two weekends of August found me hiking, biking and drinking in wonderful, soul-filling conversation with my dear friend, Ashlee followed by Amber coming from Austin the following weekend and offering more of that same great connection. I know these visits wouldn't have been as sweet if they were competing with 4 boys in the house.<br />
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On August 17, Trey finally returned and all 5 of us were under one roof. As excited as I was for this, it kind of felt like showing up at your high school reunion and wondering "who are you?" But, time was of the essence as I knew we had 36 hours before high school football practice started. The following morning we packed up 2 cars, all our camping gear and Millie and headed for the hills. So to speak. I was desperate for some connection with everyone unplugged before the craziness of the school year was upon us. We went just 40 miles away to our favorite rustic, primitive campsite on the river. It was unoccupied as if to say, "I've been waiting for all of you." <br />
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We set up camp and jumped in Ian's jeep and meandered up the mountain to a glorious hike ending in a pristine glacier fed lake. The boys all took turns documenting each other jumping in and decided their dives counted as taking part in the "ALS Ice Bucket Challenge" due to the freezing temperature of the water. Of course, I didn't want to lug my camera on the hike so I have no documentation myself but I did snap a bunch of photos throughout the 24 hours. We played in the river, feasted on our traditional campside dinner of barbecue chicken thighs, corn on the cob and watermelon, roasted marshmallows and reminisced about all the camping trips over the years. It was positively glorious.<br />
Some seasons you just have to take what you can get.<br />
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While I never want to repeat many parts of summer 2014, I will let my final memory spur me into a school year of many lasts and treasure every single one of them knowing it will be June again before I know it.<br />
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-31661270653190775842014-08-07T00:13:00.001-07:002014-08-07T00:15:31.016-07:00Family Reunion: Chebuhar Style<br />
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I come from a loud, proud, lively Croatian heritage. My maternal great-grandparents immigrated to America from Lokve, Yugoslavia (now known as Croatia) in the early 1900's with two young children in tow. Once they landed in Michigan (their first stop) my grandmother and her younger sister were born. From there they made Roslyn, Washington their home. A small, Croatian coal mining community where my grandparents met and fell in love. If Josephine and Nick could see now the legacy their union has produced. I doubt they ever would have imagined that 63 people would gather back in the town where it all began honoring and celebrating what was started over 100 years ago. But that's exactly what happened on July 4th weekend, 2014.<br />
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Let's start with the "back story." Most of my extended family has remained close to home in the Seattle area. There are a chosen few of us that have ventured away from the nest for reasons ranging from love to jobs to wanderlust. When my mom's cousin Tom and his family of 7 came to visit from Chicago, someone would throw together an impromptu picnic and softball game. This happened every few years but once the next generation grew up and more of us moved away, the visits were less and less frequent. As were the reunions. Weddings and funerals seemed to be the only venue where we would see our distant relatives for a quick catch-up. Inevitably, the subject of a reunion would enter the conversation only to be forgotten as soon as we all drove (or flew) away. In 1991, we all gathered at my great uncle Charlie's property for a pig roast (yes, we really roasted a pig) but no softball game followed and within a few years he passed away. </div>
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In 2003 my grandma died and her younger sister, Sylvia, left us in early 2011. That generation of women who instilled such a strong love of family connection and tradition was now gone. In July of that same year, some of us cousins were together for a weekend getaway when talk of a reunion resurfaced. We got out pencil and paper and began compiling a list of family members from each of the four siblings. That was the furthest the idea went. Everyone seemed to desire reuniting but who would take the reins? </div>
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Last summer the discussion started again between me and my mom. I could hear in her voice that this was so important to her but she's not an initiator or administrator by nature. Someone with those skills and that drive needed to make it happen. When I drove away from her house, I began to feel a tug on my heart. I kept resisting the tug. I kept rationalizing why I was the last person to even consider taking on such a task. In a casual conversation with my mentor, I mentioned this small issue and informed her that I was tired of no one ever following through on these conversations and there was no way I was going to be the one to take it on. I gave her all the reasons and excuses I could come up with. She stared at me and started crying while she expressed her own sadness that her kids don't have relationships with their cousins or know their family heritage and where they come from. She shared her experience in researching her family geneaology and the profound loss she felt at never meeting her extended family on either side. She begged me to reconsider and pray about my involvement in planning this long anticipated and talked about reunion. Before she even finished talking, I didn't need to spend days or weeks praying. I knew what I needed to do.</div>
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I gathered as many emails as I could and sent out an announcement that a Chebuhar family reunion would take place on July 4th at my house. We'd have a big barbecue, go to the high school for our traditional family softball game and end the evening with fireworks on our property. The response was overwhelmingly positive but one in particular was quite intriguing. A family member (who shall remain nameless) responded with a request to meet with me and share some ideas and suggestions he/she had about this event. I figured this person would suggest that we all go to the city park in Roslyn and have a picnic and softball game. Being close to our family's hometown would make sense but I really, really wanted to host the party. Boy was my assumption off.<br />
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I never, in a million years, would have guessed that the purpose of our meeting was not only that this person wanted to have our gathering in Roslyn but that it be held at the 4-star resort and all lodging, airfare and transportation expenses would be covered by an "anonymous donor." Is your jaw dropping? I believe mine stayed that way for the remainder of our conversation and my drive back home. I was absolutely flabbergasted. To house 63 people, and fly in 17 of them was not a drop in the bucket. I couldn't wait to send an addendum to my email with this change of events. </div>
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After at least a month of research and never ending emails, we finally settled on our accommodations. We found one huge house that would work perfectly for our evening gatherings and two other houses to hold each family contingent. The overflow would stay at the lodge in studio rooms. Almost everyone in my generation was on board with helping in anyway possible so we scheduled a planning meeting, delegated responsibilities and reconvened on July 3rd. It truly went off without a hitch. </div>
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We had an equal amount of planned activities as we did down time. The weekend started with a welcome reception at the big house on Thursday night. It was such a joy to watch everyone get reacquainted. My cousin, Michelle put together a timeline that was hung on the wall and followed the entire perimeter of the main floor.It was such a hit! Everytime I looked around, someone was mesmerized by this. Michelle (one of our most creative family members) documented every birth, death and marriage from the date my great-grandparents were married. We all added our own pictures throughout this masterpiece. There were 90 life events recorded! 90! My uncle Chuck made a display board with all the naturalization and immigration documents from the trip to Ellis Island. </div>
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On Friday (July 4th) everyone had the option to take the Roslyn tour of the museum, cemetery and town, play in a golf tournament or none of the above. Late in the afternoon we all gathered for a game of "How well do you know your Croatian heritage?" The format was a cross between "Family Feud" and "Cash Cab". The second generation created the questions, and my generation of cousins formed teams who had to guess the answers. It was HILARIOUS! After the winners were announced, we enjoyed an amazing Chicago style dinner compliments of my cousin Tom and his boys who drove out with all the fixins to feed our huge crew. Afterwards we attempted an entire group photo in the midst of toddlers melting down and the usual complications of corraling that many people in one place to accomplish a task. We did a fair job but the picture will definitely not be mistaken as professional quality. </div>
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But then Uncle Sam showed up and relieved the stress of the photography session.</div>
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And so did these two patriotic babes......<br />
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Saturday,our last full day together, began with each of the four family contingents having breakfast together at our respective houses. Because we weren't all staying in one place, it was a great time to connect with our own cousins and aunts and uncles. The resort had an enormous park with a playfield and we reserved a portion of it for the traditional softball game professionally organized by cousins Kristin and Alexa. Forty of us squared off into two teams and began with a homerun derby by age group followed by a five inning game. Our pitcher (who pitched for both teams) declared a perfect tie at the game's end. It was a ball! (pun intended)</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpidW3N03L54jlAXRqDfQyjcSF9ZOmCZ_le5TA7-XSHmCtIneOtuoj46ePSKo6hfJ2nRc6y_iCrpdXfAEndonHDyU7n6JTrEQVhVDqCo7CbU2TOh-xM5eel-0i9ID3ticl6PnzAbJ_06N/s1600/IMG_0771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpidW3N03L54jlAXRqDfQyjcSF9ZOmCZ_le5TA7-XSHmCtIneOtuoj46ePSKo6hfJ2nRc6y_iCrpdXfAEndonHDyU7n6JTrEQVhVDqCo7CbU2TOh-xM5eel-0i9ID3ticl6PnzAbJ_06N/s1600/IMG_0771.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Although we knew we were the real winning team.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaSImj3G2l97BhSlLDvdiAEwgaJtbK32fsNf0xUBQMM0v9jmFR2AQfY_rTfoQCzei_ZBlicdUJgHWx8rB799B4hh4QCWwuQbClieUJ3z_p1s1H6c8sxAtHjX39hyphenhyphenBpdhBIUOhcxcwFrRJ/s1600/IMG_0781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaSImj3G2l97BhSlLDvdiAEwgaJtbK32fsNf0xUBQMM0v9jmFR2AQfY_rTfoQCzei_ZBlicdUJgHWx8rB799B4hh4QCWwuQbClieUJ3z_p1s1H6c8sxAtHjX39hyphenhyphenBpdhBIUOhcxcwFrRJ/s1600/IMG_0781.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">These sore losers declared they beat us. Yeah, right.</span></td></tr>
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The whole gang gathered one last time at the big house and we started the evening off with an awards ceremony. Some of the categories and winners were pre-determined such as "traveled the furthest"; "matriarch" and "patriarch." My cousin Jennifer passed out ballots the previous night asking family members to choose who had the best smile, best laugh, who had changed the least since our last reunion and a few other categories. It was priceless watching Jen announce the winners and seeing and hearing everyone's reactions. </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8hasTGjZ2wKvhSCZ9_xC0yy3Nw4HqGjkQcOeNm2EHx3KehB00Siy0r90d8Onnd0xkQQQauxYEyWlf56atHcx1y2px5xXzUv0OvrFrnEm0uQTNJJwZ07CYfJltcBtxUiSAhpenvWeKV1s/s1600/IMG_0832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8hasTGjZ2wKvhSCZ9_xC0yy3Nw4HqGjkQcOeNm2EHx3KehB00Siy0r90d8Onnd0xkQQQauxYEyWlf56atHcx1y2px5xXzUv0OvrFrnEm0uQTNJJwZ07CYfJltcBtxUiSAhpenvWeKV1s/s1600/IMG_0832.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Judy tied with Tom & Nancy for most grandchildren</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WD1B-zZMALG82iz7QdT301lHlU1Ht9LZWJ8x25rp4HExAjf8yOA3vrOubc2CLc4MtkTvhP1dt51qJykGeF70t2gj2WiZTpI23VyecbJprbwsSzail4vhbR9tyyW-6xuwOgibW0rzXXl5/s1600/IMG_0833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WD1B-zZMALG82iz7QdT301lHlU1Ht9LZWJ8x25rp4HExAjf8yOA3vrOubc2CLc4MtkTvhP1dt51qJykGeF70t2gj2WiZTpI23VyecbJprbwsSzail4vhbR9tyyW-6xuwOgibW0rzXXl5/s1600/IMG_0833.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Owen, age 3 months (his big brother Charlie accepted his award) got a baby Beaver for being the newest ancestor. Their last name is Beavers.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Uncle Bob has the best laugh<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7EpM8_KQU7egHQk7GgpPPg7L9JRLgYkRcUUZc2ZeBLCa6gduqh02E4Jwww53n9jjJBzdhXi03HjxbdpD8WD6Xq7eCS1Kzl3DTNPGcaNQDm7YFVu2Rst6UYoo0YM1HE5L9dQObPRbYs3M/s1600/IMG_0837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7EpM8_KQU7egHQk7GgpPPg7L9JRLgYkRcUUZc2ZeBLCa6gduqh02E4Jwww53n9jjJBzdhXi03HjxbdpD8WD6Xq7eCS1Kzl3DTNPGcaNQDm7YFVu2Rst6UYoo0YM1HE5L9dQObPRbYs3M/s1600/IMG_0837.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Charles & Gloria had the "staying power" for being married the longest: 47 years!</td></tr>
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Finally, we dined on a Mexican buffet put together by our professionally trained chef, cousin Brian. </div>
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Some said their goodbyes that night and others came back the next morning for one more hug--or two. As we pulled out of the driveway and pointed our car west, I was overcome with emotion and tears and thought: I wouldn't have changed a thing. I'm so glad I responded to that initial heart tug and my friend's gentle plea so God could do his thing and remind us where we came from and with whom we belong. As crazy and dysfunctional as all families are, they are also sacred and special. I wouldn't trade this one for the world. </div>
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Nick and Josephine started something good. Very good. </div>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-32722252932864448652014-06-22T12:15:00.004-07:002014-08-07T00:20:15.800-07:00A Magical Season: Redeeming my soccer woundsI am a football fan through and through. American football. The kind where grown men go out and pound each other. I love the complexity of the plays, the craziness of the fans, the size of the men, the sheer grit it takes to perform on the gridiron. Baseball? Not enough action. Too many steroids. Basketball? Stinky gyms and a short court. And soccer? Not a particular favorite. But soccer in the Northwest is like football in Texas and 3 of the 4 men in my household absolutely LOVE it. Regardless, I still hadn't crossed over to the dark side. Until recently.<br />
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When Quinn was in 6th grade, he began what appeared to be a long soccer career with a competitive club team. We poured our time, money and energy into his passion as we got sucked into the club sports lifestyle. But it wasn't the best lifestyle for our family. I began resenting the fact that we were constantly apart because one of us had to accompany our soccer player all over the state for the better part of his middle school years. For most of the other families on the team, they had just two kids and their player was their youngest child. There weren't two other children being drug around to games. They were happy to have their family vacations be weaved into a summer soccer tournament. I wasn't. I felt like we were the only ones who struggled with stretching our budget to cover hotels, gas and meals. I'm sorry to say I did not handle this situation with much patience, grace or kindness. I was flat out bitter. So bitter that I saw nothing good come from this adventure. I only saw it as taking away from the family life I envisioned. Add that to the fact that my son's interest began to wane with each passing season. When he wasn't willing to start contributing his own finances, the decision was made, at the end of the 8th grade season, to concentrate on high school sports.<br />
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As is a natural fit, most high school football team kickers have a soccer background. This worked in Quinn's favor in freshman football. I secretly hoped his soccer days were behind us and he would fall in love with the best sport in America. But then, spring arrived and so did soccer tryouts. He made J.V. and was back in soccer mode. Three weeks into the season they gave him a shot in the second half of a varsity game and he scored the winning goal. This secured his spot as a swing player (playing both JV and Varsity) for the remainder of the season. HIs high school team made it to the first round of state that year and were knocked out in a 4-1 loss. His sophomore year was a strong season again, in spite of graduating 8 seniors, but the team never made it out of districts in the post season. This junior year was a different story.<br />
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From the first pre-season game, everyone knew this high school team had something very special. The chatter was abundant before tryouts even began. By the third week, even the skeptical were convinced. As the numbers increased in the win column and the loss column remained a big fat zero, the excitement began building. With each passing contest, we wondered if this was the game that would knock them off their perch. For the first time in school history, they won the conference AND were district champs. As they headed into the sweet 16 of the state tournament, all the chatter was about their undefeated record and 12 straight games without the opponent scoring on them. But this was state, after all. They were likely about to meet their match aswe all know the cream rises to the top. <br />
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The first two games of state would be held at our home field since they owned the best 2A record. We scored in the 7th minute of the first game and followed with 6 more goals before yet another strong statement was made. This was the team to beat. The second game was on Friday night of Memorial Day weekend and garnered a packed house. It was unbelievable to see the amount of community support in a soccer town with 3 competing high schools. It didn't matter what school you were from, everyone was there to cheer on Squalicum. A parent whose son had played at the high school in the past, said to me, "this is better than watching the Sounders. They are amazing." Yet, they were more like the Seahawks. Their defense was phenomenal and their roster was deep. The 22 young men were so good that the coach could rotate players every 15 minutes and the second string was just as strong as the first. They were making not only making history but bringing our town together. The second opponent definitely presented a challenge at the onset yet they went into halftime with a 1-0 lead then sealed the win with two more goals in the second half. It was on to the state semifinals!<br />
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The final four teams were ranked #1, 4, 5 and 8, respectively. As we settled into our seats in the packed stadium 150 miles south of home, the energy and nerves were equally as charged. The stadium was packed with friends, family and student section at least 250 deep. This was the big stage. And they came to play. The opponent was a physical, quick team from the eastern side of the state who also came to play. Unfortunately for them, they had never seen the likes of this bunch. We were up 3-0 at halftime and finished the game at 5-0. Another shutout and on to the championship game. <br />
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The final game was a different story altogether. The opposing team was 20-2 with a goalie the size of a linebacker and the speed of a sprinter. Squalicum's timing was off and their nerves were getting the best of them. We were all left wondering where our team went? Halftime: 0-0. Whatever words the coach shared at halftime did not fall on deaf ears and lit a fire under them that couldn't be stopped. Within 3 minutes, their freshman phenom broke free and scored. Six minutes later, this same gunner put it in the net and the momentum kicked into high gear. The opponent just didn't have the stamina to keep up with the fresh legs rotating in and with 9 minutes left and a 3-0 lead, the coach subbed in 6 players for their last high school game. 11 seniors: the exact amount needed to field a team. Final score: 4-0. Class 2A Washington State Champions! As the headline read the next morning, it was "A Perfect Storm."<br />
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As I watched the boys hoist the trophy to a screaming crowd, my throat ached and tears streamed down my face. In that moment, I realized that this magical ride was redemptive on so many levels. First, as much as I resented the competitive club program for all those years, the reality was that without it this championship would have never happened. This team roster essentially had two complete club squads on it and their years of training and competition enhanced their ability to clinch the state title. Second, as I was about to put my camera away, my mom started screaming "Quinn's getting an award!!!" I looked up and there he was with the director of the tournament and a player from the other team standing in the middle of the field. The man with the microphone announced that each boy had received the Sportsmanship and Character Award from the WIAA (Washington Interscholastic Athletic Association). After the struggles of sophomore year, this showed me that despite what I see at home, what the world sees is a young man of honor, hard work and integrity. And yet another stream of tears flowed. Finally, as we snapped family pictures after the celebration, I looked at the images on my camera and thought, "Wow. As flawed and fragmented as my extended family is, we were all there together supporting Quinn and cheering him on together." A redemptive ride for sure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXtcxZTVH8QJ8-TY3tRtYjsuwx8ecZUeUBm2xeTAVwy3tVhq_N6ef33ZXV9bhpwXZ-rjROo8THNSAxpHHTVLIE1KdJQaGCkUJO-gKUGHs0_LlH-BHACCYhyK_sp2OubJmyz5gz2q139XSf/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXtcxZTVH8QJ8-TY3tRtYjsuwx8ecZUeUBm2xeTAVwy3tVhq_N6ef33ZXV9bhpwXZ-rjROo8THNSAxpHHTVLIE1KdJQaGCkUJO-gKUGHs0_LlH-BHACCYhyK_sp2OubJmyz5gz2q139XSf/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for the final</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Announcing the award</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">State CHAMPS!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bringing home the hardware.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pure joy!</td></tr>
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-3256752934530848432014-05-04T17:13:00.001-07:002014-08-07T00:22:45.731-07:00Do you want the truth or the Facebook version?This was my response to a friend's text saying, "I'm dying to hear about Mexico!" <br />
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Every winter when we are weary of the gray skies and never ending rain, we begin to ponder a tropical spring break getaway that never comes to fruition. For the last 7 years that we've had school age kids, the first week of April comes and goes and we feel like we're "the only ones" who are left behind while "everyone else" galavants off to a sunny, exotic locale and returns with their golden tans and stories of their "perfect vacation." The past 3 years with me being in school meant that my spring break schedule did not jive with the boys' week off. Prior to that, there always seemed to be a more pressing monetary need that trumped a frivolous expense like rest and relaxation. Car repairs, a root canal, bills for E.R. visits, food on the table, etc. "Someday.." we would say. 2014 was our someday.<br />
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Our original desire was to visit Costa Rica. The surf was the main draw followed by the natural beauty. Everyone we know who had been there, couldn't say enough about the magic of the area. We rallied and got the kids' passports and began plotting our adventure. While plotting, the typical hijacking of spring break prices began and suddenly the airfare alone would have wiped out our entire vacation budget. Plan B. After asking around and doing some research we settled on Puerto Vallarta. Ultimately it made more sense than Latin America. We'd stay in the same time zone and not spend an entire day flying each way. The break is not long enough to warrant a trip that far or the huge expense. Costa Rica went back on the "Bucket List."<br />
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Back to my response. I don't want to come across as not being appreciative that we got to have an amazing vacation to a beautiful warm and sunny location. I do feel very grateful for this awesome privilege but I was already dreading the question, "how was your trip?" before we even got home. It's so tempting to respond with "the Facebook version" where I say: "<i>It was incredible. The weather was perfect, our accommodations were beautiful, the kids got along amazingly, no one complained, my husband and I felt like we were back on our honeymoon it was so romantic, we all achieved a perfect tan and no one was sunburned, we agreed on every meal, went on fabulous excursions and loved just being together. We can't wait to go back." </i>But that's just not me. I think you can be honest without being a downer.<br />
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But, when someone then prefaces that question with their story of how boring their break was or "I'm so jealous", I suddenly feel the need to downplay the fact that we went away. Also, I want to be honest about how it really was. The reality is that just because you're in a beautiful place doesn't negate the fact that you're trying to navigate your way around a foreign country with 5 people who all have their own agenda while trying to create "amazing memories." It's just hard. When you wait so long and spend so much money, you really want the experience to be epic. And usually, it just isn't. And anyone that tells you otherwise is not being honest with you or themselves. I always set out with the attitude that I won't have expectations but I always do. Several times during the trip, I thought, "wow, being stuck in a condo together really guarantees that all your family issues will be staring you in the face." I can't say I was expecting that. Jellyfish stings, allergic reactions to sunscreen, sinus infections, running out of cash, staying in an area with no accessible restaurants, teenagers who struggle with getting along, having to pay for two taxis instead of one because you have a family of five and not four were some of the challenging realities of a real life vacation. Being in paradise doesn't remove these obstacles. It just makes them more palatable.<br />
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But, on the flip side, there were a lot of really positive anecdotes to share as well. A spacious, well appointed condo with a beautiful view of the pool, palm trees and ocean; a local manager of said condo who bent over backwards for us with her kindness, honesty and professionalism; warm nights walking on the beach with oodles of bright stars in the sky and the ocean waves crashing at your feet; yummy authentic margaritas, guacamole and salsa; happy, friendly local people who truly serve their guests; zip lining and riding ATV's in the rainforest; snorkeling and kayaking at "Hidden Beach"; an unexpected day trip to Sayulita, a super cool surfing town off the beaten path; cool conversations with my teenagers because they weren't distracted by friends; picturesque nightly sunsets; early morning coffee dates with my hubby; meeting fellow Americans and Canadians everywhere we went: devouring books by the poolside and sleeping in. <br />
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I do think it is possible to answer the question in an honest way that has equal doses of what you loved and what you didn't. So the next time you go on vacation and come home to inquiring minds, don't stress about what version of the story to share. Just share the real one.<br />
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-24859379519684986862014-04-08T17:38:00.001-07:002014-08-07T00:23:59.671-07:00The Sub Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm happy to report that after 13 different substitute assignments, I don't yet resemble the woman in this picture. Partly because I have spent most of those 13 days in the elementary school, the middle school I taught at, my son's middle school and my son's high school. I don't have any horrendous stories to share. My biggest challenges have been my own child addressing me by my first name in his English class and a second grader farting in his classmates face. (The primary grades are definitely not where it's at for me.) <br />
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One of my relatives, a retired teacher, sent me an email asking about my future plans. I told her that no jobs have been recently posted so in the meantime I continue to enjoy subbing. She replied: Umm...... "subbing and enjoy don't usually go in the same sentence." From the horror stories I've heard, this is typically true but for right now it really is the best of both worlds. I can say no if I don't feel like working and when I do take an assignment, it's like an auction (if you check the website and see a job posted, you know you need to snatch it up or someone else will in the next five minutes) followed by an acting job. Each time I click on "accept" I get to take on a role pretending to be someone I'm not. I've been the elementary school librarian, a seventh grade math teacher, a high school P.E. teacher and a second grade teacher. Each job has its pros and cons but all of them mean I get to spend the day with kids which is so energizing--even when they try to get away with their typical antics because I'm the clueless sub.<br />
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As my student teaching was nearing the end, I often said I hoped to get a short term leave replacement. This seemed like the best way to get your feet wet without having to make a contractual commitment. Last month, one of these positions came open at the alternative high school. It was a maternity leave that would start after spring break and end in June. I got an interview along with three other candidates but they ultimately chose the teacher who student taught in that classroom last year. It made perfect sense but I did feel a sting of rejection. Even though it's not where I ultimately want to be, I thought it wouldn't hurt my resume and would challenge me in ways beyond my limited scope of high school experience. But, alas, God has other plans so I'll continue to enjoy the ride and see what's on the horizon. Who knows, I might have ended up looking like the woman in the picture at the beginning of this post. <br />
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-17705167606850557702014-03-11T13:55:00.000-07:002014-03-11T13:55:00.463-07:00Post graduation-part two<br />
As the end of my time in the classroom was nearing the end, I was regularly being asked if I was going to walk at graduation, if I was going to have a party and how I was planning to celebrate. In answer to the first question, it's complicated but I'l try to simplify it. Because I was not earning another degree but a teaching certificate with an English endorsement, I wasn't qualified to participate in commencement. It is kind of silly being that I completed over 100 credits and spent the equivalent of a new vehicle during this process. But, I didn't feel strongly enough about it to make a stink. And because I knew the university would tack on another $100 or so if they made an exception. I wasn't about to pay them another cent. <br />
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Since I'm not one who enjoys having all eyes on me, I was hesitant about a big party. I did want to celebrate with those who supported and encouraged me along the way, though. I did agree that this was a huge accomplishment and one that should be recognized but, at this stage of life, it felt a little silly. Trey asked me to give him a list of the friends and family and offered to hold a graduation open house. It would be low key on a Sunday afternoon and guests could come and go as they pleased. He promised to do all the planning and preparing as long as I gave him some direction .Done. Because I rarely do anything like this, it felt so vulnerable and risky. And because of this, I knew I would take it hard if no one responded to the invitation or didn't show up. I should have gone with my gut. <br />
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Two weeks after he sent out the invitation, Trey got word that he'd be needed in California for a Monday morning meeting but required to arrive the day before. When? You guesssed it: the day the party was scheduled. I didn't have it in me to reschedule. Again, he promised that I wouldn't have to lift a finger but what were the chances of that, really?<br />
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I woke up that Sunday morning and went to the store to get ice. When I returned home, I left my phone in the car and went about my business inside. A couple hours later, I retrieved the phone only to find it full of messages from my Seattle friends and relatives that none of them were coming because of the snow. We had nary a snowflake and yet 90 miles south it was enough that no one would risk driving north. I decided to carry on, knowing my local friends would be there but suddenly I was overcome with emotion and tears and just didn't have it in me to put on a happy face for 20 people. I wasn't expecting to respond this way but instead of pretending, I gave in and let myself be sad. I called my close friend, who has been my biggest cheerleader and was coming early to help. When I broke down, she and another friend swung into high gear and rearranged the plans. They called everyone who was planning to attend and let them know not to come then rallied my closest girlfriends (who I should have just planned to celebrate with instead of having a party) and told me they'd pick me up at 5:00. I crawled back into my warm bed, had a good cry and slept off the afternoon.<br />
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The intimate celebration ended up being at one of my favorite restaurants followed by returning to my house and enjoying the overpriced cupcakes that were ordered for the occasion. It was such a sweet, loving gesture on behalf of my friends but looking back I realize that this was the beginning of my letting down and I had a hard time enjoying myself. I didn't recognize how emotionally and physically fragile I was now that this journey had culminated. I had been operating in survival modeand living on an adrenaline rush with deadlines hovering over me and hoops waiting to be jumped through for the better part of the last 3 years. It took its toll and my body was paying the price. My fragility made it such that a legitimate excuse felt like a huge rejection and I didn't have the reserve to see it for what it was. But it also made me realize how I needed to give in and rest. I literally slept away the next two days, caught a nasty cold and slept another day away.<br />
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As I write this, I'm a month removed and wish I could go back, have a do-over and be a little more rational. I wish I would have seen it coming and realized that a massive letdown was inevitable. Regardless, it can't take away from the reality that the verse I wrote on the front page of my journal in 2011 is as true now as it was back then.<br />
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-35271482821250077382014-03-08T12:56:00.001-08:002014-03-08T13:12:32.520-08:00Post graduation, part one Just when I thought life might slow down post graduation, it seemed to only switch into a higher gear. Less than 24 hours after completing my internship, Quinn and I were on a plane to Mile High City--the weekend before the Super Bowl. In the fall, he was able to tag along on a business trip of Trey's and check out Clemson and Duke. When I saw that his college wish list also included University of Colorado-Boulder and The Air Force Academy, I said, "I will accompany you on this trip." I also reminded him that it's rare for high school juniors to actually visit the campuses they are interested in. It just so happens that the 6 on his list all are located in cities where we have close friends or family. And we're always looking for a good excuse to visit them. <br />
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Prior to leaving for Boulder, Quinn was able to connect with two CU students who graduated from high schools here. The day before our tour, he spent the afternoon with both of them separately and got to see the campus from their perspectives. The next day's scheduled tour was hardly necessary. He was hooked. If it was August 2015, I could have left him there and never looked back. Mountains an hour away. A state of the art engineering facility and world-renowned program. His cousins just 20 minutes down the road. Built in friendships. A rejuvenated football team. His interest was definitely peaked. After our official tour, in a snowstorm, he was even more determined to call this home. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At CU with "Ralphie"</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cousin time</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Since they couldn't make my graduation party, we had our own little celebration. So sweet</span>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ty loved his big cousin taking him for a ride in the laundry basket.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Storytime before bed.</span></td></tr>
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The next morning we headed south to Colorado Springs and entered the gates of the Air Force Academy campus. We had been there before as tourists but this just felt different when looked at through the lens of "this could be where my child spends four years of his life." However, it was a complete polar opposite of where we just left. Structured. Disciplined. High Expectations. Low Acceptance Ratio. Challenging on every level. I could tell that, other than the possibility of jumping out of airplanes and one day piloting a plane, there wasn't a lot of appeal to Quinn's laid-back personality that dislikes rules, being controlled and living in an environment of intense mental and physical discipline. But the upside is that the education is free, the training is the best in the world and your post-graduation career is an open ticket. After the tour, we drove 10 miles down the road and had a great reunion with our former neighbors and Quinn's godparents, the Cunninghams. They named their son, "Quinn" also so it was a fun and interesting evening having both boys answer every time we said their names. We also enjoyed ribbing each other over the upcoming Super Bowl as Joe (a die-hard Steelers fan) loved reminding me of Seattle's one appearance in the big game 8 years ago. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">About to enter the beautiful campus.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The two Quinn's.</span></td></tr>
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We returned home and I spent the next two days collecting and organizing my letters of recommendation, reminding my supervisors to send in their reference forms, updating my resume, writing a cover letter, ordering my transcript and completing the substitute application to begin subbing in my school district. The weekend then culiminated by the greatest football game I've ever witnessed. (Yes, I am biased!!!!) We joined 27 other crazy Seahawks fans for an amazing party and celebration. It was such a high to watch history in the making. I still had an adrenaline rush the next morning and woke up at 5 a.m. to take in the highlights and watch all the sports analysts eat crow. It was delightful. Suddenly, my high was interrupted by a 6:00 a.m. phone call asking me to sub. Unfortunately, the district didn't have me in the system so I had to refuse--which killed me since it was my principal's husband and she had recommended me. Trey took me to coffee and while waiting in line at Starbucks, I got a call from the secretary at my middle school panicking that she had no teacher in the 6th grade math class. I explained that my application hadn't been pushed through yet. She called me back 10 minutes later and said, "Get in here!" For the next two days, I pretended to know something about multiplying and dividing fractions with about 80% of my former students. The teacher called me on Tuesday night asking me to come back another day as he was still under the weather. I had to turn him down because I promised Ben that we would go to THE SEAHAWKS VICTORY PARADE!!!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Love this!!!</span></td></tr>
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An old friend that was at the same Super Bowl party, called me the previous day to see if I was serious when I said I wanted to go to Seattle for the parade. A local charter bus company was sending 8 buses down at $20 R/T for a seat and she secured 4 tickets. They were expecting 300,000 fans and I knew I didn't want to drive and look for parking. Plus, this friend is super fun and I knew we'd have a great time traveling together. We loaded the bus at 8:15 a.m. and what should have been a 90 minute ride took over 3 hours. The parade was to start at 11:00 a.m. and we were still on the offramp at 11:30. At this point, Ben was pouting and I heard him mumble, "this isn't even going to be worth it." Fortunately, because the crowd was actually closer to 700,000, the players couldn't make it through traffic in a timely manner and they started the festitivities at 12:30. Even though there were hundreds of people in front of us, you couldn't have asked for a nicer crowd. Everyone was just so happy to be there and being all huddled together made us forget that it was 17 degrees outside. After a 36-year wait, this was a celebration we couldn't miss--and I'm so glad we were there to witness the magic and excitement.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Everyone loved our poster mocking the naysayers.</span></td></tr>
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Week two came to and end and it was time to gear up for my graduation open house.......stay tuned for part two.</div>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-61435934849875149402014-02-10T21:58:00.001-08:002014-02-10T21:58:08.840-08:00It is finishedThree years, seven months and two days have resulted in this girl being a certified teacher!! My lack of posting is indicative of what an all-consuming, demanding profession teaching is. I honestly had no idea. The simple act of using the bathroom or making a phone call requires planning and speed and the cooperation of another staff member. Teaching the same lesson three times in a row with four minutes inbetween is impossible without a level of precision and energy that I never knew I had in me. Attempting to meet the physical,emotional and social needs of 112 students while hoping to teach them a thing or two about writing and reading is no small feat. And while many times I wanted to throw in the towel, after spending an entire day saying goodbye to those 11 and 12-year-olds who stole my heart, I have no doubt God has chosen the most rewarding profession in which to be spending my second career.<br />
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I had all kinds of activities planned for my last day but I had no idea that Wendy had the students each make me a personal card. If I had already been emotional, these sweet sentiments took it to a whole new level. What I loved was seeing the difference in how expressive the girls were versus the boys. The girls decorated their cards with glitter pens, drew hearts and smiley faces and every other girly touch. The boys got down to business, said what they wanted to say and wrote their names. End of story. These were my favorites from the guys: "Good luck with that teacher thingy." "You spent a lot of time on our class, at least it seemed like you did." "I spelled most every word right and that's prob because of you." "I hope you get a job, as good of a job as a teacher can get." "I'm still going to see you on the soccer field so there's no point in writing this letter." Every single one of the girls' notes made me smile but I took pictures of my favorites. <br />
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-24867280597898145852014-01-08T20:51:00.000-08:002014-08-07T00:25:28.869-07:00A Subdued SeventeenthEver since this blog became "live" over 6 years ago, even though my posts have been sporadic, I have typically been faithful with writing a birthday tribute to each of my boys. Those are the posts I look forward to the most. Since Quinn's special day falls within two weeks of Christmas, I try to start thinking about what I want to say and what photos I want to include before the new year begins. On Sunday afternoon, the day before his birthday, I was about to sit down and start typing away when Quinn came looking for me. With a panicked look on his face he asked, "Mom, did you hear anything about a crash on Barkley this morning? Jess just texted me and said he heard it was fatal and that a Squalicum student was involved." My heart sank and I had a sinking feeling he was right. I combed our local paper's website and Facebook looking for any information that might be out there but found nothing. He went outside to take down the Christmas lights and an hour later came in and said, "it's true. It was Hannah."<br />
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As we learned about the details, it became even more heartbreaking. Hannah, a vivacious, very loved high school senior, was driving down the hill on her way to work, in her beloved 1970's VW bug when her car slid on the icy road, crossed the center line and collided with an oncoming truck. Her vehicle then caught fire and the witnesses were not able to remove her before it was engulfed in flames. The only saving grace was that the authorities confirmed she was unconscious and didn't suffer. The entire school community was devastated and social media was filled with grieving teenagers sharing their heartbreak and absolute adoration of this beautiful young lady. Although I'd never met her or her family, I had heard their names over the years and we had many mutual friends. It was just unfathomable. <br />
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Because Trey was leaving early in the morning on Quinn's birthday, we talked about celebrating the night before. After hearing this news, none of us were up for it. I told Trey, "it just doesn't seem fair that we get to plan our child's birthday while Hannah's family is planning a funeral." Even thinking about going back to school the next day, after the two week break, was something no one was looking forward to in the least.<br />
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Although I felt for Quinn that his birthday would be subdued by such tragedy, I loved how he was more concerned for his classmates than worried about being overlooked. And I was so grateful to watch our amazing community come together and honor their friend. We had takeout Chinese and a Dairy Queen ice cream cake with Quinn's friends then headed over to the high school for a cross town rival boys' basketball game. Apparently word had spread over Facebook and Twitter that the student body was requesting for all fans to wear purple to the game as it had been Hannah's favorite color. When we walked into the gym it was a packed house and an absolute sea of purple--every single fan from the other high school's student section had obeyed the request. The players had purple bands on their jerseys and each of them wore purple socks. It was chilling. At halftime, the ASB president made a short speech and directed the opponent's students to join ours for a picture. It was amazing to watch these kids who, on any given day, will chant across the gym at each other with such intensity come together and lock arms in a display that announced, "Love wins!" <br />
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This may have not been how any of us planned to celebrate Quinn's birthday but in so many ways it was a better celebration because of the outcome.<br />
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-27960001473052688642013-12-25T13:43:00.002-08:002013-12-26T11:31:01.618-08:00Looking back on 2013<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">1.) What did you do in 2013 that you had never done before?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Went whitewater rafting</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">2.) Did you keep any New Year's resolutions and will you make more this year?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Last year's was to be kind to myself. I think I did an okay job at that but there is definitely room for improvement in the coming year.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">3.) Did anyone close to you give birth?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">Yes, my cousin Kristin (she was my flowergirl)and her husband Jon, welcomed their first child, Carter Henry.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">4.) Did anyone close to you die?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">No</span></span><span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="background-color: white;">.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">5.) What places did you visit?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">Leavenworth, Washington; Wenatchee, Washington; Amelia Island, Florida; Gainesville, Florida; Boulder, Colorado; Littleton, Colorado; Los Angeles, California.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">6.) What would you like to have in 2014 that you lacked in 2013?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">family time</span><span style="color: #ff3399;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">7.) What date from 2012 will remain etched in your memory and why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">February 19th-the day my oldest became a licensed driver</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">8.) What was your biggest achievement this year and why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">Student teaching and submitting my teacher performance assessement--both of these required an immense amount of discipline, time and energy. I honestly didn't think I would be able to pull it off but I did. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">9.) Did you suffer illness or injury?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>No</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">10.) What was the best thing you bought?</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>a weekly housekeeper</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">11.) Where did most of your money go?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">Food and gasoline</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">12.) What song will always remind you of 2013?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">Stronger by Kelly Clarkson</span><span style="color: #ff3399;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">13.) What do you wish you would have done more of?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">hiked and camped</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">14.) What do you wish you would have done less of?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;">Looked for things that were lost or misplaced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">15.) What was your favorite TV program?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">Dancing with the Stars</span><span style="color: #ff3399;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">16.) What was the best book you read?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: blue;">Emotionally Healthy Spirituality by Peter Scazzero</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: blue;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">17.) What was your favorite film of the year?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Pitch Perfect-I know it came out in 2012 but I saw it for the first time this summer. Hilarious, heartwarming and memorable.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">18.) What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Rockwell, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Went to Boomers Burgers with my family. Came back home and opened four wonderful cards with words of affirmation from my sons and husband along with a few presents.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">19.) What national/world event stirred you the most?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Rockwell, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: blue;">The Boston Marathon bombings.</span><span style="color: #ff3399;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">20.) Who was the best new person you met?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "Rockwell","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Maddie Neumann-a fellow classmate and student teacher who is half my age but twice as mature. She is fun, positive, hilarious and just a wonderful human being.</span></div>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-89830935741128472332013-12-20T12:33:00.002-08:002013-12-20T12:33:27.153-08:00My life has not been my ownSo I just logged on to discover it has been almost two months since I last posted. TWO MONTHS! My lack of communication on here has probably hammered the nail in my blogger coffin and the 2 or 3 followers I did have, are probably long gone. But, if there's anyone still out there, I'm back for a brief update....<br />
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A two month hiatus is definitely an indication that my life has been overtaken by not only the demands of full-time teaching and a family but then add to the equation a 30+ page paper justifying my teaching practices replete with video clips and research to prove my worthiness--all due on December 19th at midnight. Oh, and for good measure, let's also throw in major shoulder surgery for my husband, whom I have heavily relied upon to hold down the fort for the last 4 months. Naturally, a blog post of any sort sinks to the bottom of the t-do list. <br />
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I honestly can't remember a time in my life where I have had so many balls to juggle. As a senior in college (the first time) I took a 20 credit load my final quarter before graduation, while working 20 hrs. a week. At the time, I thought I would never survive--and I was a mere 22 years old! A couple weeks ago I had one of my many meltdowns on the eve of Trey's impending surgery. While sitting in the driveway, dreading the thought of entering my house and transitioning to my second job, I phoned that friend who just absolutely "gets me." When she answered, I began sobbing before I could utter "hello". Her simple but profound response was exactly what I needed to hear. "It's one thing to pursue your goals and dreams when you're in your 20's and it's only you. It's quite another to reinvent yourself when you have a 21-year marriage to maintain and a 16, 15 and 12-year-old whose well-being you are responsible for, not to mention all the other demands for your time and attention. It is an amazing feat and you need to cut yourself some slack." Just having her verbalize and acknowledge my reality was a huge gift. So why is that so difficult? Why does it take reaching the breaking point before I can nurture myself? It's a question I continue to ask throughout this journey.<br />
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Lest you be misled, this season has been filled with many blessings in the midst of the challenges. I have learned to admit I can't do it all and, not only ask for but accept help from others. For the first time in 17 years, I hired a weekly cleaning lady. I never felt like I could justify it before but the boys' cleanliness standards and mine just didn't match. Go figure. I was tired of spending what little time I had with them nagging and using my Sundays trying to stay on top of it all. Some may say I let them off the hook but it's money well spent. I am beyond grateful for the friends and family who have jumped in and lightened my load by giving the boys rides, running errands for me, visiting and taking care of Trey post-surgery, bringing dinner when I've been flying solo with Trey out of town. It has made all the difference.<br />
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Right now, I am sitting here enjoying the best gift of the season: a snow day and an early start to the Christmas break. I love the slowdown effect a snowfall has on us all. <br />
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When we return to school on January 6th, I will have just 3 weeks until I am an official teacher--and hopefully get some of that life back that has been missing since September 4th. When January 24th arrives, this is what I'll be doing.<br />
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-50273185186988587702013-10-28T22:49:00.005-07:002013-10-28T22:49:57.152-07:00On the heels of the teen years<div>
As I was about to head to bed, I realized that I didn't write a post about Ben's 12th birthday. Probably because this birthDAY was preceded by a birthday WEEKEND. I think this year will rank right up there as probably the best and most memorable one so far. Even though the actual day was a bit uneventful and his dinner guests consisted of just his mom and dad, the two days prior were nothing short of spectacular. And filled with the kinds of things that are uber important to a 12-year-old boy like Ben. </div>
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The previous Saturday's football game was a heartbreaker. Their team had practiced field goals the previous week and agreed to let Ben give it a shot to kick any extra point opportunities. Both times they scored a touchdown, Ben ran out to have his shining moment only to have his teammates fumble the snap. He stood on the sidelines dejected and as soon as we saw him post-game, he burst into tears. He was still upset two hours later. Two days ago was their last game and even though they practiced once again during the week, there were no guarantees he'd have a chance to try again. Two minutes into the game, they scored and out ran all 73 pounds of Ben. Darn if he didn't nail it through the posts. On the last play of the game, he played running back, ran it in for a touchdown and promptly returned to attempt the kick once again. "It's up. And it's good!" I don't think he stopped smiling for the rest of the day and into the evening. </div>
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Even though this was a huge birthday present, the next day he got an even bigger one. Knowing we were looking for tickets to the Seattle Sounders soccer game, as it's tradition for Trey and Ben to go to a game together for his birthday, a good friend gave us 4 tickets to Sunday's game versus L.A. Galaxy. These tickets also included a parking pass, dinner and ice cream at halftime. That alone was present enough but then a soccer game with (cushioned) seats on the 50 yard line and two players' autographs on top of that? </div>
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Happy 12th birthday, Benjamin Davis! You are a kind, considerate, loving and patient young man who gives so much to others and asks for so little for yourself. You deserved the amazing birthday spoiling you had this year and are so worth celebrating!</div>
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-24631916005012380812013-10-21T22:27:00.000-07:002013-10-21T22:27:06.434-07:00Homecoming 2013Remember back in the "olden days" when a boy asked a girl to the high school Homecoming dance? If they weren't dating, the young man simply asked the young lady, "would you like to go to Homecoming with me?" The answer was a simple "yes" or "no." End of story. Not today. No one would ever do something so SIMPLE. Everything has to be not only complicated but a competition as well. I personally think it's a response to the Disney movie "Prom" that came out a few years ago. Although it was a well-intentioned script, the many different scenarios that played out within the story lines lent itself to a new fad. Not only does the girl get warned by her girlfriends that she's going to get asked, but then she also expects an original proposal. It's so over the top. But then I'm sure our parents categorized our behavior the same way back in the 80's. All this to say, that my poor little freshman was feeling some of the pressure when all he wanted to do was go to the dance and have fun with a group of friends--and a date. <br />
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I came home from work one night and Ian told me he wanted to ask a certain girl to Homecoming but it felt awkward because this certain girl happened to be the younger sister of his older brother's girlfriend. Are you following? I told him he should do it if he wants to and not let that fact deter him. Being that Ian's a simple guy, I thought he would just ask her and be on his merry way. Silly me. He got an idea from an older guy and decided to run with it. This particular creative idea also meant that we had to drive all over town to find a goldfish bowl and a small, plastic fishing rod, He was so cute and excited, and he rarely asks for anything, so I had to indulge him. The next day, with the help of his prospective date's friend, he filled the fish bowl with Goldfish crackers and put it on her desk in her first period class. Alongside the bowl was the fishing pole with a note that said, "Of all the fishes in the deep blue sea, will you go to Homecoming with me?" I have to admit it was pretty darn slick. She loved it. He texted me after class with a simple message, "she said yes."<br />
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I made the suggestion that the two couples double date. Bad idea. The older couple would have none of it. Going with Freshmen could potentially damage their social status or so it seemed. The best I could do was insist on a picture of all 4 of them at the girls' house before they went their separate ways. <br />
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-12550790101205606372013-09-26T22:07:00.001-07:002013-09-26T22:07:16.431-07:00We have kittens!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Since the beginning of September doesn't have enough chaos, we thought we'd add a little more to the mix. Not that we had any control over our cat's heat cycle. You remember those kittens who joined our family less than a year ago? The ones we thought were boys. Ummmmmmm...yeah...we were duped. Once we made the discovery--with the help of a $213 vet bill to help confirm what we already suspected--we thought we'd let them each have one litter then spay. Poor Nacho started at a mere 5 months old and just finished her 8th unsuccessful cycles. We're not sure why she can't seem to get a man but her sister took care of business lickety split back in June. In mid-August, she came in one day and as I went to pet her, that abdomen was jutting out both sides. Based on my research, pinning down an actual due date was next to impossible but we had a general idea that it would be within 3-4 weeks once the abdomen swelled. </div>
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We went to work preparing a birthing box and looked for signs of "nesting." We had some suspicions as to who the "baby daddy" was but his owner "thought" he was fixed but wasn't sure. The owner (who lives behind us and apparently had been feeding Ollie when she came to visit "Mr. Kowalski" ) isn't exactly playing with a full deck so wouldn't it just be our luck that Ollie would start labor in his house?? He knocked on our door at 9:00 a.m on the 8th to inform us that one kitten had been born under his bed. Trey hightailed it over there while I woke up the boys. By the time we all arrived, kitten #3 had made its way into the world. We took turns going inside to see if any more were coming and, after 30 minutes, decided to pack up mama and her babies and take them home. About 20 minutes later, while Ben and I were watching, Ollie had a contraction and I ran to get the other boys. Within a minute, baby #4 came out before we could all get back upstairs. However, I did pull on some latex gloves and cut the cord. I guess you could call me "the cat midwife." I have always said I wanted to be in the room during a delivery. I was hoping for the human kind but I'll settle for the feline species because they are so stinkin cute. </div>
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Now I realize I'm not qualified to determine gender but I do know that two look the same on the backside and the other two looked markedly different from them. Therefore, we do have 2 boys and 2 girls and I'm pretty sure the calico and the gray striped ones are the females. I'm not going to put any money on that though.</div>
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So before you chastise me for not spaying and tell me how the kitten population is out of control, rest assured that all 4 are spoken for and we even have a waiting list. If Nacho doesn't get her act together here soon, we may have let Ollie fraternize with the neighbor again. After watching these little fur balls grow and change everyday, it is mighty tempting.</div>
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-75950103879997547232013-09-15T12:38:00.001-07:002013-09-15T12:38:57.897-07:00A Golden Birthday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcvP7VSE6Hd1rX-F-qBQoNXDYA1nWkhtoRo4wzAEBPezMiO4TOk-mal4biHZFayzvh4Et1x7XYoWie6hyphenhyphenxiAl3Yfn-BEm6e_lgEtm4UjaI4q9_5PRYPyv3HrLoCRo5dC9GcrpvU4dC8RMP/s1600/76956_500179783365608_1563926748_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcvP7VSE6Hd1rX-F-qBQoNXDYA1nWkhtoRo4wzAEBPezMiO4TOk-mal4biHZFayzvh4Et1x7XYoWie6hyphenhyphenxiAl3Yfn-BEm6e_lgEtm4UjaI4q9_5PRYPyv3HrLoCRo5dC9GcrpvU4dC8RMP/s400/76956_500179783365608_1563926748_n.jpg" width="400" /></a>I'm not sure when I was first introduced to the term, but I do remember hearing that when you turn the age of the day your birthday falls on, it's called your "golden birthday." I still remember turning 23 on the 23rd. Trey and I had been dating less than a month when he spoiled me rotten with gifts, flowers and a romantic dinner on top of The Space Needle. I can picture the photograph--the first real official snapshot of our courtship. Ben has to wait until he is (hopefully) out of our house and close to 30 for his. Quinn was the ripe old age of 6 and a little Kindergartener. Ian couldn't be at a more perfect age: 15 on the 15th.</div>
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Every year, when this kid's birthday comes around, it seems like he always gets the short end of the stick. School has just started, everyone's schedule is crazy busy and he's not one to speak up and ask for what he wants. And he absolutely hates to be fussed over. In fact, because of this, it seems like everyone overlooks just how special he is. He marches to his own drum. He's not a super social guy. He prefers one-on-one to a big group. He doesn't buy into what the world is selling and isn't afraid to say so. In a word, he is completely different from the brother above him and the one below and I'm sure he is reminded of it everywhere he goes. Although he doesn't let on that it bothers him, I know it has to be getting old. </div>
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This year, I have been determined to make this his best birthday yet and he will go to sleep tonight feeling utterly and completed loved and treasured for the unique, witty, wonderful person that he is. We have been talking about his special day all summer long. Plus, he's official to get his learner's permit today so there's even more anticipation than normal. </div>
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Right now, he is up in "The Shire"--his own private bike jump facility as an undisclosed location. He's invited a few fellow bikers to "hit the jumps" with him, grill burgers, overindulge in Mountain Dew and just be guys. I have 15 awesome presents to wrap, so I'll end here.</div>
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Ian Joseph, you remind me of myself in so many ways with your independent streak, deep thinking soul and low maintenance ways. My wish for you this birthday is that you will ontinue to embrace who God made you to be and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I love you a ton and feel honored to be your mom. </div>
<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-81681335929801148942013-09-08T19:23:00.002-07:002013-09-08T19:23:51.411-07:002013-14 School Year: Week One is in the record booksAnd so the new chapter begins. As I've said before, this school year represents all of us turning a page to a story that has had many twists and turns; the characters have endured many changes; a little mystery has been thrown in there and now the plot thickens. The English teacher in me would describe this as "the climax of my personal narrative." The protagonist (me) has finally reached the place in the book where the action heads into high gear. I have successfully completed my first full week as a middle school student teacher. <div>
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Several friends and family members texted or emailed the night before and after the first day asking for an update. As I suspected, I barely had time to respond to anyone because my second full time job was waiting for me when I walked in the door every night. After what felt like 100 runs to Office Max, we finally have all the needed (and not so necessary) supplies for my 6th grader, Freshman and Junior students. Dinner didn't make it to the table before 7:30 and I was ready to crash by 9:30. I knew I was not in "working full time" shape after a 16.5 year hiatus from the grind. But what I didn't expect was how exhilirating my days would be. Although I am physically exhausted, the joy I have from spending my days in the classroom, buoys me into my evening responsibilities with an energy I wasn't anticipating. Because I simply didn't have time to update anyone, on Thursday night I wrote this on Facebook: <i>"For several years post-college, I wandered from job to job in many failed attempts to 'find my calling.' In the moment when I became a mom, I declared: "I was born to do this!". After my first full week as a middle school student teacher, I am uttering this powerful phrase once again. It has been quite a journey to get here, but this feeling is indescribable." </i></div>
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As for the boys.............Quinn left the house saying: "Great. Back to hell." He is pretty overwhelmed with football practice, followed by 4-5 hours of homework but he'll adjust. Ian acted like he wasn't excited but all week, he has seemed to enjoy doing his homework, bounced out of bed at 6:30 a.m. without any prodding and was talkative every night. The highlight of his day is 4th period English as the teacher resembles a contestant from America's Top Model. All the freshman boys pay attention in that class. Ben loves being back in the public school scene and the halls of middle school. Although he did say the lunch lady was mean to him when she couldn't find his account due to him being a transfer student. Little does he know this will be the least of his worries come 8th grade. </div>
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I realize we are all in the "honeymoon phase" right now but I can't wait to watch this story unfold!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Junior Year: Positively thrilled.</span></td></tr>
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Freshman!!</div>
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He's the only one who would indulge me and display the sign.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ready for my 6th graders.</span></td></tr>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-82829793979128367702013-08-23T23:48:00.002-07:002013-08-23T23:48:42.109-07:00The Summer Bucket List that was in my headAs last summer began, I jotted down a bucket list for June, July & August. I managed to cross off 4 out of 11. In teacher speak that's not even close to a passing grade. I think I got a little overzealous last year so I never actually committed to completing a list this summer and yet I still remembered the "biggies" that didn't happen in 2012. In the back of my mind, I still wanted to accomplish at least one or two. Well, as it turns out, I did do #4, 9 and 10--and all 3 were a disappointment but I did bring my grade up to a C-. See below for the details.<br />
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<b><u>Dana’s Summer Bucket List 2012</u></b><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">1.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;"><strike>Pick all three berries: Strawberries, Raspberries, and Blueberries.</strike></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">2.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;"><strike>Hike a medium elevation mountain.</strike></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">3.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">Make a rope swing with my kids.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">4.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">Early morning run on the Northshore Trail.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">5.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">Go to a Drive-In movie theater.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">6.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;"><strike>Go crabbing in the Puget Sound or Bellingham Bay</strike>.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">7.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">Sleep under the stars.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">8.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">Fish in the lake and eat my catch for dinner.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">9.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">Make a batch of homemade ice cream.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">10.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">Visit a local farm for fresh produce.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;">11.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;"><strike>Take a family road trip down the California coastal highway.</strike></span><br />
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S #4: Since day breaks around here starting at 4:45 a.m. in June, getting out of bed early isn't usually a problem. The Northshore Trail is at the end the lake and is 3 miles out and 3 miles back. I propositioned one of my die hard/hard core running buddies to join me at 6:30 a.m. Unfortunately, it happened to also be a morning that was overcast and humid. Unbeknownst to both of us, just because the trail runs along the lake, doesn't necessarily mean a breeze is guaranteed. There was none to speak of for the entire 6 miles. It was brutal, we were dehydrated and exhausted by mile 3 and definitely did not feel refreshed as we returned to my car. </div>
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$ #9: This one was a comedy of errors. While on the previously mentioned trail, Sue asked what else was on my bucket list that hadn't been completed last year. The drive-in theater and making a batch of homemade ice cream were the only 2 I could remember. She told me about the "roll and freeze." that she owned by had never used. This contraption looks like a hamster wheel with a metal insert. I had completely forgotten about it when she stopped by a couple nights ago and dropped it off. Ben and I had the best time rolling and tossing the ball full of ice and rock salt while it worked its magic. After the first 10 minutes, you open it up, scrape the sides of the metal portion with the half and half, sugar and vanilla in it and drain the melted ice and add some more. Ian and his friend walked in while we were prepping for round 2 and decided they wanted to make the finishing touch. 10 minutes later, we opened the ball, scooped out a taste and spit it out. It tasted like a salt lick for a horse with a touch of vanilla. YUCK! </div>
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# #10: For all the years we've lived in Bellingham, I've heard so many people brag on Joe's Gardens. I've driven by the place a few times but its not anywhere near my normal route. One day I was over on that side of town after a hike and decided to stop. 5 minutes later I was back in my car empty handed. Yes, it was pretty and everything was fresh and/or organic but the prices were easily double that of a produce stand just down the road that was surely supplied by a farm also. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. It's "local" enough for me.</div>
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As summer comes to a close, I might be able to pull off one more but most likely they will make their way to 2014's list. Even if the outcomes weren't perfect, it was still fun trying.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -0.25in;"><strike><br /></strike></span>Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-71004707902490479162013-08-05T16:05:00.005-07:002013-08-05T16:05:58.922-07:0021 Years!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After returning from our trip to Florida, our summer went into overdrive and before we knew it, August was just around the corner. Being that our anniversary falls on the first day of the month, it sneaks up on us at the time of summer when we both just want to stay home. So when Trey said he wanted to go on an overnight like we have managed to pull off for 19 of the last 20 years, I sighed. Really? Can we just go to dinner in town? I could tell by his response that this was important to him and needed to be equally as important to me. </div>
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Leavenworth is a place that we both love and as Ben and I passed through there on our way to Wenatchee the previous week, I was reminded of how much I have missed visiting there. I also noticed a sign for one of the local river rafting companies and knew that would speak to my adventurous husband's heart. I'm not really a rapids kind of gal but I figured why not? I'm certainly not getting any younger--and how many people die on a rafting trip in eastern Washington? After counting out the anniversary coin jar and a monetary gift from our parents and finding someone to stay overnight with the kids, I made the reservations for the white water rafting trip and a room at The Alpen Rose Inn. Trey had a conference call at 10 a.m. that day so we got in the car at 5:30 a.m, yes A.M, to get on the other side of the pass where he would have cell reception. I shopped around while he did his business from the back seat of the minivan. Afterwards, we found River Riders and enjoyed an amazing chicken barbecue lunch and met some great peeps that would soon join us for our big adventure. The website neglected to mention that by August, the river is so low that what should be a Class 3-4 rafting experience was really more of a nice, long float trip down the Wenatchee River. We had a great guide, fun boat mates and the weather was perfect. A good way to "get my feet wet." No pun intended. After checking into the B & B and showering, I really wanted to go to our favorite drive-in burger place but Trey just couldn't accept that as our anniversary dinner. So we compromised and went to a nice place for mojitos which was perfect followed by a greasy burger and fries at The Heidelburger. It was a perfect celebration. Maybe we'll get fancy for the 25th but somehow I doubt it. And what was my anniversary gift this year? A new set of tires for the minivan. Practical always seems to trump romantic. But I wouldn't have it any other way. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was AFTER the trip. We didn't even get wet.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a tropical mojito.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">21 years and still smiling.</td></tr>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-67701255182090067782013-07-11T18:09:00.000-07:002013-07-11T18:09:04.630-07:00Family, Fun & Sun: Fully Present<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There are many perks to being on Facebook but with all social media, there are some features that do get under my skin. One of those is the constant posting of vacation pictures which one can easily interpret as "look how much fun I'm having while you're living your mundane life perusing my pictures and seething with jealousy." I realize this is not the motive of every member of the social media world but there are a select few where you do want to say: "Enough already. No one's life is that glamorous. No one's." That being said, I know there are some family members and friends that actually do want to see photos of our recent time in Florida. (And the irony is that I'll probably put a link on FB to this post.) But before I do that, I have to say that so many feelings hit me during this visit that the pictures don't show. <br />
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Amelia Island holds a very special place in my heart. It's by far my favorite place on the eastern seaboard. Trey's parents began building their retirement home there the year Quinn was born (1997). From the minute the house was completed until we moved out west (2001) we spent many a long weekend there making memories while trying to wear out our tireless babies and toddlers on the beach, in the pool and on the golf course. It was our "go to" place and the only way we got a vacation during those early years. I can still envision trudging out to the beach with an enormous supply of paraphenelia to dig in the sand, play in the water, protect the kids from the scorching sun and feed their hungry stomachs and thirsty mouths. Even though it was a gargantuan effort, when I look at the pictures, the fondness I feel reminds me it was always worth the effort. <br />
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When we landed at Jacksonville airport 17 days ago at 11:30 p.m., it was 82 degrees and glorious. After retrieving our luggage and the rental car, we hit I-95 then A1A, crossed the causeway and turned on the Parkway. The entire time filled with boys commenting incessantly with the "Remember When...." stories. It was music to my ears--especially when the teenagers moaned and groaned beforehand about not being able to see their friends for two whole weeks. The walk down memory lane was punctuated by all they had planned for the long summer days ahead of us. "We need to call Uncle Mike and see if we can borrow his surfboard." "I'm going to eat at Chick-fil-A every day." "When do we get to see Baby Wynn and the rest of our cousins?" We arrived at the house close to 1:00 a.m. and Mimi & Papa Jim were on the porch to greet us. That porch was also covered in bikes, boogie boards, a surf board, beach toys and beach chairs. We were well on our way to making some new memories. <br />
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The next 14 days were filled with constant activity and family visits--and lots of Chick-fil-A of course. While we were playing in the pool with the younger kids, I had flashbacks of Quinn, Ian & Ben at those tender ages of 3 & 6 when life was in continuous movement and sitting poolside for more than 5 minutes wasn't an option. It was nostalgic but also very sobering. On July 1st, Trey, Quinn & I took off for the day and headed to Gainesville. Trey had a customer to see so we took advantage of the timing and scheduled a tour of the University of Florida.(one of Quinn's top 5 on the college wish list.) The possibility that the campus could one day be home to my firstborn was surreal but exciting. After returning from UF, I was privvy to a conversation between Trey & Quinn that hit me like a ton of bricks.<br />
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It poured the day of our tour, the day before and the day after. Not just your typical southern summertime afternoon thunderstorms but all day long rainfall. While listening to our 16-year-old grumble about how bored he was, how the weather wasn't supposed to be like this, how he missed driving his car, etc. Trey had a stern talking to with him and reminded him that since we only visit every other summer, this could be the very last time our whole family is together in his grandparents home for the rest of their lives. No one knows what the future holds and where he'll be at this time post high school graduation. Although his grandparents are in good health now, none of us can predict how quickly that could change. I'm not entirely sure how much of an impact these words had on my son (teens can rarely see beyond today) but they were not lost on me. It made me think about the brevity of life and the importance of being fully present in the here and now. I am guilty of "waiting for someday". I have put off so many tasks, dreams and adventures waiting for the right circumstances. "When I'm done with school." "When I have a teaching job". "When the kids are gone." "When the house is paid off."<br />
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Even today, I found myself starting to do that as I looked at the suitcases on the floor; the mound of laundry in the basket; the pile of papers on my desk; and the projects pinned to my boards on Pinterest. I found excuses to put them off telling myself they would still be there tomorrow. And then I remembered the promise I made to myself while being unplugged from technology and the normal demands of family life. I want to be present and try to do one new thing every day. It can be as small as unpacking the suitcase within 24 hours (which I actually did and this is a first) or trying a new recipe. It's time for the summer bucket list to resurface from last year (I did 5 out of 10) and start crossing items off and adding new ones.<br />
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My father-in-law said the sweetest thing to me during their visit for Ian's 8th grade graduation and I want to continue to live it out. He told me, "When the boys are gone, you and Trey aren't going to look back with any regrets. You have made the most of every single moment with your kids." Thanks to him, we have had the privilege of enjoying many of those moments at the place he & Mimi call home. <br />
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Back to my original reason for this post....................(a lot of) pictures from our vacation below.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnyElrckBWQHe1xqm7IbDk3y8huEeMN8G2SWE-sOKK8wjog2UiRDyXzFMteA505sWlWuliLdaabPxCwo5cDSATWAWH9f356tHxH3H_fIObLZT4VkZe2-cLIwS3kM6M9AUDaBGp5XPV2G5/s1600/IMG_7827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnyElrckBWQHe1xqm7IbDk3y8huEeMN8G2SWE-sOKK8wjog2UiRDyXzFMteA505sWlWuliLdaabPxCwo5cDSATWAWH9f356tHxH3H_fIObLZT4VkZe2-cLIwS3kM6M9AUDaBGp5XPV2G5/s400/IMG_7827.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Everyone loved playing with "Baby Wynn"</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amelia Jane making Quinn laugh.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousin Chris taking it easy while we played with his kids--ask him what he was doing when we had kids and he didn't. Probably the same thing as in this picture. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wynn trying to shoot his big cousin</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tour ended with a visit to the infamous football stadium "The Swamp."</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wouldn't it be cool of he could stand here wearing one of their uniforms one day? It's a long shot but we were dreaming anyway.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben doing his magic trick for Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim. He's a wizard, that Benny.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elizabeth is such a good big cousin to Amelia Jane and Wynn</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After Trey let him go under the wave, Wynn announced: "He drownded me."</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A game of Corn Hole before the fireworks.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the Sturgeon cousins.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Nancy & Uncle Jim take a break from the stress of checking on their house being built on the island.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amelia Jane told me she loves her "big cousins."</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone rushed to take a picture of our 4th of July visitor.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We affectionately named him "Uncle Sam" because of his Independence Day visit.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCvCjjtlrt2EUjkvnfNhmp2r4GnFnMX3r3sXYHdWL7aTMjFZQ_Iby1C4HKDr_ouulo2LLBZQDNAQPWEbkur9aZcSQlCplk87bANSTtxvYauFsx85jQW9qCo-GI6c7Ir1RbFHTQeEf4yFu/s1600/IMG_8016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCvCjjtlrt2EUjkvnfNhmp2r4GnFnMX3r3sXYHdWL7aTMjFZQ_Iby1C4HKDr_ouulo2LLBZQDNAQPWEbkur9aZcSQlCplk87bANSTtxvYauFsx85jQW9qCo-GI6c7Ir1RbFHTQeEf4yFu/s400/IMG_8016.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quinn patiently taking his little cousin on the water slide for the 50th time. "Do it again" was all Wynn said to him that day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhar_IghgKltM4uKcpjcbXBSgvMpGtSP2dvIuGiNj9_VF-d0k4XsK1dAsteSUR9xVnlEz9rhF-iJnRhrBz92j5bUIPeAKtWb8cdxCpwFsk7uYtgWbTWgNCKe3nTU40AZBOUyCC1-Dh8MvYn/s1600/IMG_8021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhar_IghgKltM4uKcpjcbXBSgvMpGtSP2dvIuGiNj9_VF-d0k4XsK1dAsteSUR9xVnlEz9rhF-iJnRhrBz92j5bUIPeAKtWb8cdxCpwFsk7uYtgWbTWgNCKe3nTU40AZBOUyCC1-Dh8MvYn/s400/IMG_8021.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Re-enacting a photo taken of these two when Ben was a toddler. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBw1s-2qgXGIpP-A554i4XxpIPT0ml4qxrR2gIU_YsFZu2_hC19GrY3yj-lJCd4IgGJN-luSpQwNAJhyphenhyphenJCgKRAs8gcvgNpaxVeJRiCrqZDX7NjMETkKzLUCSY_DG40f0biabJU9iIxRUZ-/s1600/IMG_8059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBw1s-2qgXGIpP-A554i4XxpIPT0ml4qxrR2gIU_YsFZu2_hC19GrY3yj-lJCd4IgGJN-luSpQwNAJhyphenhyphenJCgKRAs8gcvgNpaxVeJRiCrqZDX7NjMETkKzLUCSY_DG40f0biabJU9iIxRUZ-/s400/IMG_8059.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another thing we miss about the South.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wILGIPuIZxEeBRnFdWihoS1FcBeZ6-h-Hw7qALze7XvyuUlwJ_25WMbhD7Zpvzv3HEVBARSiFcRRncddn06zPu5z7AbqNFkpqcFZnN00Rlx66KI9pwyTdiDFcS-ZqTI4SWmNusutx5Wn/s1600/IMG_8069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wILGIPuIZxEeBRnFdWihoS1FcBeZ6-h-Hw7qALze7XvyuUlwJ_25WMbhD7Zpvzv3HEVBARSiFcRRncddn06zPu5z7AbqNFkpqcFZnN00Rlx66KI9pwyTdiDFcS-ZqTI4SWmNusutx5Wn/s400/IMG_8069.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chasing the waves.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmhSd91DBdPYNt46ODrvQQdW8MVrW6F90eXgZUsil2W0aXuMwYBn2STxnlLNFaShfFIWVVQ1GXMmAahVHU6-XmQKjsRpQVEK4cABQCJX-OpNhqyCstWmLHTj40zJy2ZKNcPCMVhoDj0VR/s1600/IMG_8083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmhSd91DBdPYNt46ODrvQQdW8MVrW6F90eXgZUsil2W0aXuMwYBn2STxnlLNFaShfFIWVVQ1GXMmAahVHU6-XmQKjsRpQVEK4cABQCJX-OpNhqyCstWmLHTj40zJy2ZKNcPCMVhoDj0VR/s400/IMG_8083.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beach boys.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-K2zremLl3KiM5ZcrrhWXQI_qUorztntTpTZxnAJluwtXeHxp2D3LjtUy9E7UjXuYQxhwpS7fY60PAku0DjreMhOOl6uRFI6UOrjCus65-LMvREUUle6G9FHRqiY1nhnvwIJNlwe4dgT/s1600/IMG_8087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-K2zremLl3KiM5ZcrrhWXQI_qUorztntTpTZxnAJluwtXeHxp2D3LjtUy9E7UjXuYQxhwpS7fY60PAku0DjreMhOOl6uRFI6UOrjCus65-LMvREUUle6G9FHRqiY1nhnvwIJNlwe4dgT/s400/IMG_8087.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baywatch?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCGe60TomV91sHGrGviMUtCOVbhTWPIV-FK_8s3yj721JSQgScd0CdgdpqdCOkiPTixL1OI79YkWSCsOp6nTPG3l2aVLh7ySZq4OIoKYUTxrq1rZQQsNDxlSa3bINkhOUI2hYm1UBJFglX/s1600/edited+ian+drive.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCGe60TomV91sHGrGviMUtCOVbhTWPIV-FK_8s3yj721JSQgScd0CdgdpqdCOkiPTixL1OI79YkWSCsOp6nTPG3l2aVLh7ySZq4OIoKYUTxrq1rZQQsNDxlSa3bINkhOUI2hYm1UBJFglX/s400/edited+ian+drive.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Each visit his head gets closer to the stop sign.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PIjlc0scSgeEveIMppy1e7-DgyAAprEgLB-nUFdcxBYZ8KrK90C_3OcN18T5WcGYro533vDlJld52BYQSTCNrRB8nYpr2LJv6XwNCiSiFaLDYrWq1WL49QIaIhLoRfMpid-ssIk6_5SH/s1600/2004+amelia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PIjlc0scSgeEveIMppy1e7-DgyAAprEgLB-nUFdcxBYZ8KrK90C_3OcN18T5WcGYro533vDlJld52BYQSTCNrRB8nYpr2LJv6XwNCiSiFaLDYrWq1WL49QIaIhLoRfMpid-ssIk6_5SH/s400/2004+amelia.jpg" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Circa 2004</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidYCFmdiHSndEpXS5MYp8zi13SP94fTtD0otGFPHLPqVrtF0umIXBkUnJq5KyOP4BC5BbCRVg7zhX4UayAFvlKbK_AlKtCjMTddxOH7HIYbe0Dl2XYRUhaif7bRx2aVpJyonpaI37txw19/s1600/2013+amelia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidYCFmdiHSndEpXS5MYp8zi13SP94fTtD0otGFPHLPqVrtF0umIXBkUnJq5KyOP4BC5BbCRVg7zhX4UayAFvlKbK_AlKtCjMTddxOH7HIYbe0Dl2XYRUhaif7bRx2aVpJyonpaI37txw19/s400/2013+amelia.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Striking the same pose 9 years later.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NPrNPZEr5WEZBhCIMQqIqjXjZ-H06MByul5cDA8IBDRlW-SIRvGVDtC9r1zp33_PwGPjKQQTByvEn5h5XecMMC42ayMjmyigJx6d_dFeIBo6zeNDX7gk34O4J5BwUHkBWPI_tJKSYzWu/s1600/IMG_8119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NPrNPZEr5WEZBhCIMQqIqjXjZ-H06MByul5cDA8IBDRlW-SIRvGVDtC9r1zp33_PwGPjKQQTByvEn5h5XecMMC42ayMjmyigJx6d_dFeIBo6zeNDX7gk34O4J5BwUHkBWPI_tJKSYzWu/s400/IMG_8119.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We did feel welcome.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFjNoDz_K5UWT7tbH8VomIREjsvJ_05h62MdzKbEgaTrhzJQ1ordxTUiPBxHVfy4vaQux9eJsaGKJg66ZOlvtY0MYJV7QsEFYgzE1lZ9zxmGiN5wySwvmlKR6YWazDc0iatLPZEonp0fd/s1600/IMG_8124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFjNoDz_K5UWT7tbH8VomIREjsvJ_05h62MdzKbEgaTrhzJQ1ordxTUiPBxHVfy4vaQux9eJsaGKJg66ZOlvtY0MYJV7QsEFYgzE1lZ9zxmGiN5wySwvmlKR6YWazDc0iatLPZEonp0fd/s400/IMG_8124.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is where you could find Ben most days.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0D7iYGnbwmWtEdYxHFRQOu6o7hLX62jEXk56CjkT-vKDMi3V_zxfJmJ9IeycCLk_3YgeOM_iLDPm5mpmazDxvcgxmU2ULdDgM-J6SeHyfgRf1dgJKEg7X3iKLWCmd0nNJ6JRNRUIRJMSS/s1600/IMG_8135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0D7iYGnbwmWtEdYxHFRQOu6o7hLX62jEXk56CjkT-vKDMi3V_zxfJmJ9IeycCLk_3YgeOM_iLDPm5mpmazDxvcgxmU2ULdDgM-J6SeHyfgRf1dgJKEg7X3iKLWCmd0nNJ6JRNRUIRJMSS/s400/IMG_8135.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, that is a Chick-fil-A cup.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjedB8nSMs2m83heJIIxnEEzyI9WWtliJVQxaPvWXF40O68iJXlGSX8WZJHyceBrhOOQKvVWIbLgXcJM74MXEjSt2ZU9BHTcT0BcekXVSHqMWNS5yoU4NIxl2hKZsU109rhpTMf_aaMEyeE/s1600/IMG_8137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjedB8nSMs2m83heJIIxnEEzyI9WWtliJVQxaPvWXF40O68iJXlGSX8WZJHyceBrhOOQKvVWIbLgXcJM74MXEjSt2ZU9BHTcT0BcekXVSHqMWNS5yoU4NIxl2hKZsU109rhpTMf_aaMEyeE/s400/IMG_8137.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A double "selfie."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gUSPXztP_O0oK2gVhInmrlVzK-orICItLG2-0UAVLtIVFH8xbMqTa6PMhLXjaNTrSZLmwNjp-ItM6GlAnT8f2ODw9sRKtW4SBCu1FrsyvdITfHS_Y8yjgNoR6jyo9ah6YkSya1R2BPio/s1600/IMG_8141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gUSPXztP_O0oK2gVhInmrlVzK-orICItLG2-0UAVLtIVFH8xbMqTa6PMhLXjaNTrSZLmwNjp-ItM6GlAnT8f2ODw9sRKtW4SBCu1FrsyvdITfHS_Y8yjgNoR6jyo9ah6YkSya1R2BPio/s400/IMG_8141.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have soccer ball, will play.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9SVbHuBWBxXr6WnUq2K-rn7Li2iCA4EjsSIB4t2dG8VaZJ0E83OIcpXnsgogR51getR9h5I7C19heHZdXX-_lLLMnRsHwg1iPSKP8Nx5u33DpoRMT15FFm_IGJzq1q78Hi78Iw9i5Nm-C/s1600/IMG_8163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9SVbHuBWBxXr6WnUq2K-rn7Li2iCA4EjsSIB4t2dG8VaZJ0E83OIcpXnsgogR51getR9h5I7C19heHZdXX-_lLLMnRsHwg1iPSKP8Nx5u33DpoRMT15FFm_IGJzq1q78Hi78Iw9i5Nm-C/s400/IMG_8163.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More pool antics.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnamwVX7YHR3fm76fmvJjrtgk579bu95pbFsWKCwdfclWViXz-Is2h5C3gH-NbkzxlV64gZJC9BWImegaQl-wvJ8WxB2JkAUiGRgTEmJ8bKF7w02JU6EvxfVYWeo4N-giJt3TEd48jBUY/s1600/IMG_8232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnamwVX7YHR3fm76fmvJjrtgk579bu95pbFsWKCwdfclWViXz-Is2h5C3gH-NbkzxlV64gZJC9BWImegaQl-wvJ8WxB2JkAUiGRgTEmJ8bKF7w02JU6EvxfVYWeo4N-giJt3TEd48jBUY/s400/IMG_8232.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One last game of Mexican Train.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPIZ0FKtRmo8-TViPN6W39HKvawOKL2tZhVtLsSDVWgCi4n_wwMypOjtASOrwO-t6T8AWoV6T17kqhYZy-r19xadc1EcEZbqJdjU-WLVRJ91rlsFY36J_bGUG7kFrQK9SaClkze65EuPA/s1600/IMG_8234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPIZ0FKtRmo8-TViPN6W39HKvawOKL2tZhVtLsSDVWgCi4n_wwMypOjtASOrwO-t6T8AWoV6T17kqhYZy-r19xadc1EcEZbqJdjU-WLVRJ91rlsFY36J_bGUG7kFrQK9SaClkze65EuPA/s400/IMG_8234.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting crazy with Uncle Mike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBl0fxsQG60ITXaD-ZjeVJhy7-Pz8gRU8244-rZbfXuGNeJoeuJLgeeNQJDQF6nZRnfUbcBGSEKfnURZaIeSJUsqb9YdEAnBn2cjQXrYvqXLhyOo2AoZc5J-GGpCEi1JJmcj9wdlzwRYFQ/s1600/IMG_8237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBl0fxsQG60ITXaD-ZjeVJhy7-Pz8gRU8244-rZbfXuGNeJoeuJLgeeNQJDQF6nZRnfUbcBGSEKfnURZaIeSJUsqb9YdEAnBn2cjQXrYvqXLhyOo2AoZc5J-GGpCEi1JJmcj9wdlzwRYFQ/s400/IMG_8237.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what this was but they were laughing a lot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JJkPD0qaXllAPsnLCLeXcXzi13AZ2FUP59bTciOPQQtJpKjdaY29LAxKwsGJl9UwsYCmO0A1Fx9jVhxJYMzp_yoBYSK683lRYYDlq9fuT7ia8UEJattbLnYHcRJM-Dm8iQUEDeCO4dZ9/s1600/IMG_8111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JJkPD0qaXllAPsnLCLeXcXzi13AZ2FUP59bTciOPQQtJpKjdaY29LAxKwsGJl9UwsYCmO0A1Fx9jVhxJYMzp_yoBYSK683lRYYDlq9fuT7ia8UEJattbLnYHcRJM-Dm8iQUEDeCO4dZ9/s400/IMG_8111.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quinn got to drive the Miata.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgAMJsU_0Go8H4i8z3uhyphenhyphenX1ojTDdCt7yOckIylhM68YuhKqOHFaS8qvGiwCdlSxqdba-IvTI0mc70p8ms8SijhQb_DvZv2LeQk7uTRnCOPSU_gZntiZGwILGCK4dTpCEmmfalcuA9GwXR/s1600/Benjamin+St..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgAMJsU_0Go8H4i8z3uhyphenhyphenX1ojTDdCt7yOckIylhM68YuhKqOHFaS8qvGiwCdlSxqdba-IvTI0mc70p8ms8SijhQb_DvZv2LeQk7uTRnCOPSU_gZntiZGwILGCK4dTpCEmmfalcuA9GwXR/s320/Benjamin+St..jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Yes, Ben, the street was named after you.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td></tr>
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<br />Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-33345637103171180382013-07-05T21:49:00.003-07:002013-07-05T21:49:51.530-07:00A week of promotionsAs the 2012-13 school year came to a close, I was thinking about how the ending of the academic calendar marked a promotion of sorts for each of the students in our family. As of June 19, we now have one middle school student; one high school freshman; one high school junior; and one middle school teacher intern. <div>
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I'll start with the new 6th grader. We moved Ben to a private Christian school at the beginning of his third grade year. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to but we felt strongly that's where we were being led to send him. Each year got better and better and although he missed his public school friends, he thrived spiritually and academically. Our plan all along was that he would return to public school when he finished his elementary years and once the transfer request was granted (we had moved out of the boundary for the middle school the older boys attended) we knew this was the path we'd stay on. At his current school, they hold an awards assembly each trimester where the students are given honors and high honors academic awards and 4-5 students in each class receive a character award as determined by their teacher. They don't know who is getting one but I did get a call from the school that Ben was receiving one this time around and they would really like us to be there. As he was called up to the stage, his teacher announced: "Ben is receiving an award for his humility. He is good at so many things but never lets you know it." It's so true. Oh how I hope and pray he will always be known for having a humble heart.</div>
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Ian survived a very trying 8th grade year--in fact I could say the same about 7th grade. Although he's not a big fan of school, he made the most of his days and worked hard at the subjects that don't come easy to him. The biggest challenge was having the majority of his teachers be those who had a good 50 years on their students. Three generations is way too much of a gap when teaching today's teenagers. It can be done but only with a young-at-heart spirit and a great sense of humor. Unfortunately, "everyone else" seemed to get those teachers. But, he soldiered through and his wit and charm carried him through although we have yet to see his report card. The whole family came to town to celebrate this much loved kiddo at the 8th grade celebration and I even got him to don a tie for the occasion. High school, here he comes!</div>
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Quinn is now on the other side of the dreaded sophomore year. I wish I was warned. Of course, during the year, those with juniors or seniors would tell me: "Oh yeah, sophomore year is the worst." Taking a rigorous courseload, playing sports and not having parents that handed everything to him, made for a regularly disgruntled young man. We went from him oversharing everything as a freshman to being very tight lipped from the first week of school through the last. Becoming a licensed driver was a highlight and getting a car at the end of May did produce a few more smiles than we were used to seeing which was a nice change. A few soccer goals helped too. Here's to hoping the junior year is as positive like we've heard it will be.</div>
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I felt bad that Trey was once again being excluded from the mix when a nice surprise came out of left field. Just before Ben's end of the year awards assembly, he had a conference call where he was given a promotion that we never thought would happen this side of heaven--or at least with this current employer. </div>
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If you know much of Trey's story, then you also know that the professional side of his life has been full of frustration, disappointment, elusive job satisfaction and many gaps of unemployment. In his current position, he has been passed over for an obvious promotion not once but twice. It made no sense whatsoever and to anyone on the outside--or inside. But he firmly believed he was not released from his current assignment so plugged away and continued to give it his all. I'm beyond thrilled for him that his talents and loyalty have been recognized and will finally be put to use.</div>
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A great way to kick off the summer!</div>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-36337987179965223232013-05-31T18:04:00.003-07:002013-05-31T18:04:34.520-07:00Ending on a high note<div class="MsoNormal">
A week from today this campus life will be in the record
books. Last quarter, I seriously
contemplated throwing in the towel.
Every single Monday, Wednesday and Friday I dreaded going to class. And when I wasn’t in class, I thought about
how much I dreaded going back to campus.
The professors were downers, the subjects were somber and I had to leave
my house at zero dark thirty. Being that I’m someone who loves to laugh—a lot--
spending my time sitting in a classroom discussing serious, pointless, depressing
issues with unengaged people sucked the life right out of me. It felt like a huge waste of time and
money. That was then. This is now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nine weeks ago, as I went through the familiar routine of
first class meetings, reading through the syllabus and the obligatory “getting
to know each other” icebreakers, it felt like quarter one all over again. Both of my professors were vibrant and
positive. The courses were vital to
launching me into my fall internship and my classmates were enthusiastic and
fun loving. The icing on the cake was
being paired up with a cooperating teacher for my high school practicum (40
hours in a classroom setting where teaching two lessons is required) who has a
similar story. Like me, she went back to
school for her teaching certificate in her early 40’s after staying home with
her 4 kids for 15 years. She’s been
teaching English for the last four years and I’m in awe of what I’ve learned
under her wings. We have so much fun
together.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And while I’m on a roll, one other perk: Just two weeks into
the quarter, I noticed how I was coming home and sharing story after story
about how much fun I was having with two of my classmates, Maddie and
Jeremy. Not only are they two of the
nicest people you’ve ever met but they crack me up for 4 straight hours every
Tuesday and Thursday. We banter together and mock each other (my love language)
as if we all came from the same family. Their weekly presence has made me
realize how much I was lacking joy and laughter in my life for the previous 3
months. Jeremy is like a roving P.E. teacher with his minivan full of sports equipment. In between classes, he's usually outside gathering a crowd to toss the frisbee around. At the end of class, he'll talk a few of us into a game of pickleball. Maddie is 24 with a maturity beyond her years. She does improv on the side so it's no wonder she keeps me in stitches. Not knowing much about either of us except that we both want to teach middle school English, our professor teamed us up to teach 5 lessons together at the high school. She was a natural and I mostly let her make me look good. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Finally, the last item to check off my list before being
launched into the public school classroom is a student teaching placement for
the fall. That official email came 10
days ago. I’ll be at a middle school
just 3 miles away from my house in a 6<sup>th</sup> grade Language Arts
classroom. My cooperating teacher is a
lovely lady just a couple years shy of retirement. I was in her class twice a week from January
through May last year and we got along famously. After spending the last two months with high
school juniors, and confirming that age group is not for me, I am so excited to
get back to a younger crowd. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Here’s to ending on a high note!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI3Xzas6wtLmkxNf_Yvxul_-bTVFnudFaLBOgzyA_K4QdAPlmH2WBJKayW5DRGdON5pNzRlJqlnBlwcKm2LbMWlZpBsAxJppgr0PAPtk3VccRyhOVrN_erOr-aKFJYep5kL0NpE3VoA2a/s1600/maddie+&+jeremy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI3Xzas6wtLmkxNf_Yvxul_-bTVFnudFaLBOgzyA_K4QdAPlmH2WBJKayW5DRGdON5pNzRlJqlnBlwcKm2LbMWlZpBsAxJppgr0PAPtk3VccRyhOVrN_erOr-aKFJYep5kL0NpE3VoA2a/s400/maddie+&+jeremy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I adore this two young'ns!</span></td></tr>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-76353913804946030732013-05-26T09:00:00.000-07:002013-05-26T09:00:02.186-07:00Quelci: one year later<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When someone learns my sophomore son has a girlfriend, I'm always asked the same two questions: "Do you like her?" and "How long have they been dating?" My answers: "Yes" and "One year today." That's a long time in high school.<br />
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I really want to write a detailed post all about when they met, how it's been as a mom watching her son become smitten, and all the qualities I like about Kelci but I'm still treading on thin ice with regard to my interest in Quinn's personal life. I never thought I would be more irritating to him in high school than I was in middle school but that's the status of our relationship these days. I don't want to risk adding more fuel to the fire therefore, I will refrain from saying anything more than I thought it was really cute when, after they hit the 6-month mark, my girlfriend asked "Is it time to start calling them 'Quelci'?" Just like Brangelina or Bennifer. Get it? Of course I don't say it in front of them but now that we're at the one-year anniversary, I think they've crossed over into the one-name category whether they know it or not.<br />
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Happy Anniversary, you two!Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-32691992445894527312013-05-20T08:03:00.001-07:002013-05-20T08:03:22.995-07:00Jr. Ski to Sea <br />
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Yesterday marked the end of an era in the Carpenter
household: our last Junior Ski to Sea race in the elementary school division—and
what a way to finish! Ben and his
teammates pulled off a first place win in the boys’ division but none of it
came without a few glitches. The race
consists of 5 legs: a bike, run, three-legged race, soccer dribble and obstacle
course. This event is a big deal in our
community and an even bigger deal if you’re the youngest brother in a family of
competitors. Most kids start in February
deciding on their team name, the t-shirt design and who will take each leg. To
be honest, the one thing I do dread every year is the question: “which parent
wants to take care of the shirts??” Fortunately,
Will (our biker) secured a sponsor for the team. A local biking apparel retailer—a huge shout
out to Disidual!) agreed to furnish the boys with t-shirts, sweatpants, beanies
and sunglasses in exchange for a team photo.
I’d say they got quite a bit of publicity while the boys waited on the
podium.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At last year’s race, “The Hot Rods” took 3<sup>rd</sup>
place and were determined to finish out 5<sup>th</sup> grade as the reigning
champs. But it did not look too promising
at the beginning. Our runner was in 5<sup>th</sup>
place as he handed off to the three-legged team. These boys lost their Velcro ankle strap at
least 4 times before they could gain any momentum. They made up for it by the time they handed
off to the biker. While waiting to see
the our biker dismount and hand off to Ben, a girl came out of nowhere and was
easily 2 minutes ahead of the next competitor.
We figured they had no chance of placing at this point—until we learned
she was part of a co-ed team. Along came
3 other boys to take off dribbling their soccer ball down the field. Lo and behold, Ben appeared and passed all 3
of them just in time to hand off to Bryan who would finish it off with the
obstacle course. Bryan’s bad case of
nerves caused two puking pit stops both up and down the stairs. Not to be deterred by a little vomit, he
pushed through and was the second participant to ring the bell. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After the medal ceremony, we were making the hike back to
our car when Ben’s proud grandma said, “All 3 of my grandsons were on a first
place team in Junior Ski to Sea.” When
we got home and announced the results to Ian, he reminded us, “my team got
first in 4<sup>th</sup> AND 5<sup>th</sup> grades so I have more swag!” Such a
supportive brother. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I tried to dig up old photos from past year’s races and all
I could find was a page in Ian’s scrapbook from 4<sup>th</sup> grade—so his
claim really is true. I took a snapshot
of the article and photo with my phone.
I also found a <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1671381320761178178#editor/target=post;postID=4793598505186231467;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=251;src=postname">past post</a> with the event brochure that had Ben obscurely
placed in the lower right corner when he was 6 years old. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Regardless of what place they came in, I love the community
support as we all cheer our kids on in the spirit of low stakes
competition. It’s a win-win for
everyone. Well done, Team Disidual!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YlNz3hZZisr-EZpXFe-8FgqoDWEGNBu4J0LzqGyfG7j59HqTe7JhAW1ueGNLdgvAUFKgXuxn9irqRNPRPR_W7qBwYrfd5DjhKkuchObEUNWuXL2oympumNB4lgqQpD-Nlu4fWTTSGaZ6/s1600/ski+to+sea+Ian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YlNz3hZZisr-EZpXFe-8FgqoDWEGNBu4J0LzqGyfG7j59HqTe7JhAW1ueGNLdgvAUFKgXuxn9irqRNPRPR_W7qBwYrfd5DjhKkuchObEUNWuXL2oympumNB4lgqQpD-Nlu4fWTTSGaZ6/s320/ski+to+sea+Ian.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian's Team Lemon Lime 2009</td></tr>
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Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671381320761178178.post-12970300649085463062013-05-01T11:11:00.001-07:002013-05-01T11:11:32.839-07:00Thankful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This morning I received a text from my friend Katie giving me an update on a situation we were praying about yesterday. She is such a prayer warrior and one of the first people I think of contacting when I am in crisis. (I'm sure she appreciates that title.) I love that part of our friendship that has spanned the last 20+ years. When I wrote her back, I suggested we list those things we are thankful for and share them with each other. When we are in the midst of crisis, it's so easy to lose sight of those things. Within minutes of my suggestion, I got 3 texts filled with all the blessings Katie is counting and holding onto while she waits for answers. I was so encouraged. I sat in Target parking lot this morning and sent my list back to her. As I was driving home, I thought "I should post this on Facebook or my blog." So here's what I have so far.........<br />
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<ul>
<li>No matter what our financial state is, we have always been blessed with a great vacation every single year for the last 20 years. </li>
<li>A relentless hope that buoys me in the midst of the storms.</li>
<li>The resources for my boys to be able to enjoy soccer, mountain biking, snowboarding and skiing.</li>
<li>Our parents are still healthy as they age.</li>
<li>A faithful mentor that loves me unconditionally, constantly affirms me and challenges me in my walk with God.</li>
<li>Deep, lasting friendships.</li>
<li>Health and energy to be active and enjoy life.</li>
<li>A husband that fathers intentionally and dies to himself to provide his family's needs (and wants.)</li>
<li>A home and property that blesses my family and my community.</li>
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What's on your list???? There is ALWAYS something to be thankful for!</div>
Dana Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09510057850140964968noreply@blogger.com1